If Gideon hadn’t been able to feel the bird’s every breath, the collapse would have scared him far beyond the terror he was already feeling. Kane was coming. A second set of footsteps meant that Duncan had returned from the hunt and was headed right for them.
The sun had barely reached its zenith, weakening Gideon’s ability to call Scim back to the shield. If he failed…
No, he would not allow thoughts of failure to lessen Scim’s chances for survival. Kane set the shield down next to Gideon and started to back away to where Duncan had come to a stop.
“Stay close, both of you. I will need your strength.”
They knelt down on the grass beside him and placed their hands on his shoulders. He closed his eyes and drew in the comfort of their touch. Even Scim seemed to breathe more easily. Gideon forced his mind beyond the immediate moment, seeking instead the calm of the river, the soothing flow of the water.
Slowly, then with more speed, he chanted the words that would call Scimitar back to rest within the shelter of the shield. Over and over again, he repeated the spell, pouring every hope, every prayer he had within his heart into the words. Nothing. Scim still lay in his arms, his life force slowly ebbing away.
Gideon opened his mind to the bird, ignoring his friends’ protests. As he and the falcon linked, he told Scim of his love for him. He promised to ensure the bird would not suffer and thanked him for his service and friendship.
Within seconds, Scim’s heartbeat sped up again, matching Gideon’s heart in rhythm; his breathing grew stronger as well. After a flash of hot light, Gideon’s arms were empty. Once again, the bird’s image was emblazoned on the shield although faded and dull. Obviously the war was not over even if the first battle had been won. Gideon could only maintain a vigil until he learned whether the gods’ magic would allow Scim to heal.
His own strength was at low tide at the moment. Kane forcibly dragged him up off the ground and aimed them both back in the direction of the cottage.
Duncan held out his hands. “Let me carry the shield for you.”
Gideon waved him off. He needed that small connection with Scim right now. When they reached the cottage, Kane led Gideon inside and shoved him down on the bench. “Stay there.”
The shadowy interior felt cool and soothing. He didn’t know if getting the shield inside and out of the sun would help, but it wouldn’t hurt. Already, his own tolerance for the bright light of day had increased substantially since leaving the river behind, but the night remained more comfortable.
“Drink this.”
Duncan shoved a dripping cup of water into Gideon’s hands. The cool liquid tasted sweet, helping to cleanse away the taste of worry and fear for his feathered friend. When he finished, he held the cup out. Instead of taking it away, Duncan filled it a second time.
Gideon managed a small laugh. “Has anyone ever told you two that you’d make a fine pair of nursemaids?”
Kane looked particularly disgusted by the suggestion, which went a long way toward improving Gideon’s mood. He closed his eyes and continued to sip the water as he contemplated what had happened outside. Logically, he knew the entire episode had taken but a handful of minutes. Even so, it was as if everything had seemed to happen slowly, each image vivid in his head. Scim soaring in lazy loops up high in the sky, then starting down when he realized Gideon had seen him. Then something happened. But what? A flash of light followed by a second one. He remembered the pain in Scim’s scream as he tumbled from the sky.
“Kane, what did you see?”
His friend sank down on the floor, stretching out his long legs in front of him. Gideon noted that he kept his sword within arm’s reach. Did he sense a threat to more than just Scim?
“We were talking, but then you spotted Scimitar returning from the keep. The bird began his dive when you held out your arm, but then there was a bolt of lightning.”
He frowned. “But with no answering thunder. How could that be? And if Scim was close enough to the flash to be hurt, why was he not burned? None of this makes sense.”
No, no, it didn’t. And now that he’d had time to catch his breath, Gideon’s temper was stirring again. He nodded in the direction of Kane’s sword. “What are you sensing that you feel the need to keep your weapon drawn?”
Rather than answer, Kane closed his eyes, and the mark on his cheek darkened briefly. His upper lip curled, revealing the longer-than-normal pointed tips of his canine teeth, another gift from his grandfather’s magic.
“A faint echo of that same feeling I had two days ago. I might not have noticed it at all if I hadn’t been looking for it.” He wiped his hands on the hem of his tunic as if he’d touched something foul. “I have yet to recall the nature of this threat, but I will.”
Gideon studied his two friends. “And you, Duncan. Did you see anything while you were out riding this morning?”
“Grass. Horses. More grass. No sign of anyone in the area.” He smiled. “I did see Kestrel out there running with his band, leading them farther away from Lady Merewen’s keep, toward the mountains, although the grazing there would not be nearly as good. It now occurs to me to wonder if he, too, senses that something evil moves upon the plains.”
It was just as Gideon had feared. The evil they were sent to challenge existed beyond the keep itself. He considered their choices. Until they had more information, they were flying in the dark. He glanced toward his shield and thought perhaps the colors were growing brighter. He hoped that was true; he would need Scim in the days ahead.
The plan had been for Duncan to wait a few more days before approaching the keep to avoid any suspicion that he was acquainted with Murdoch and Averel. Unexpected visitors had to be rare at such an isolated manor. Too many arrivals so close together might draw unwanted suspicion.
They were going to have to take that risk. “Duncan, we need you to explore Merewen’s library. Can you be ready to ride later this afternoon?”
Duncan cut up the rabbit he’d brought back and put it on the fire to simmer. “Are you sure changing our plans is wise?”
Gideon looked to Kane for support. “I do not see that we have a choice. Today’s attack is the second time we have encountered this same presence on the plains. We cannot fight what we do not know.”
Kane stared at the shield propped in the corner. “If Duncan leaves today, what about you? Will you be able to stay away from the keep if you no longer have Scim’s eyes to watch for trouble for you?”
Crowding Fagan too soon might make the situation worse. It would be best to wait until the appointed time to approach the man. If only Gideon knew more about the situation, especially about what had been happening the night before when he’d sensed that Merewen was in jeopardy. He had no proof, but he’d learned to trust his instincts. He could trust Murdoch to send word if there was trouble. Scim’s image popped into Gideon’s head, especially the bird’s insistence that Gideon pay attention to his leg.
The message! In his rush to save his friend, he’d forgotten all about the note the falcon had been carrying.
When he lurched to his feet and headed for the door, Duncan blocked his way. “Where are you going?”
“Scim had a note tied to his leg. I must have dropped it.”
All three charged back to where Scim had plummeted to the ground, fanning out to search the area for the paper. Gideon found the bit of string that had held the note in place, but the paper was nowhere in sight. They widened the search, allowing for the slight breeze.
Kane pounced. “Found it!”
Duncan and Gideon crowded close as he unfolded the small paper and read it aloud.
“‘Success, but know that Warwick dwells within. Murdoch.’”
Kane pointed to the paper. “Who is Warwick? Why does he think we’d know that name?”
Duncan also looked confused by Murdoch’s comment, but Gideon needed no explanations. The terse message confirmed his belief that Lady Merewen had been in danger last evening. His friend’s wording had
been clever. If anyone other than Gideon had found the message, its meaning would have been lost on him.
The name Warwick was a link to their shared past, one that only Gideon and Murdoch knew the truth about. The memory also made Gideon’s blood run cold. As a small boy, Murdoch had been fostered by a brutal knight, one who used his fists on anyone he perceived as weaker. When Murdoch grew big enough, he’d fought back, almost killing the man. To prevent Warwick’s sons from seeking retribution, Gideon had helped Murdoch escape by bribing the guards. The two of them had been inseparable ever since.
But now Murdoch’s message was clear. He’d already known that Fagan mistreated Merewen and her people, but Murdoch had been there less than a day and had already seen evidence of the man’s vile nature firsthand.
Under most circumstances, Murdoch could be depended on to maintain control, to follow directions, to play his part. However, like all of the Damned, he had his own demons that drove him, even after all these centuries. This was the warrior’s declaration that if Fagan lifted a hand to harm someone weaker, especially a woman or a child, Murdoch would kill him or die in the attempt.
All five of them had their own secrets, and Gideon had left it up to each individual how much to share with the others. If Murdoch had chosen to keep the nightmares of his youth to himself, Gideon wouldn’t betray him now.
He pointed to the name on the note. “This is Murdoch’s way of telling us that Fagan is even worse than Merewen had indicated.”
Kane growled something harsh in his native tongue. Gideon didn’t ask him to translate but agreed with the sentiment. He briefly considered making his approach to the keep rather than sending Duncan, but he needed to wait until Scim was back to full strength before risking entering into battle.
“Duncan, I do think you should ride for the keep this afternoon. You can always have Averel send messages with his dogs. They’ll be able to track their way back to me.”
“That makes sense, although my friend hates when I don’t use him.”
Duncan had his own avatar, but it wasn’t suitable for delivering messages during the daylight hours.
“Blame it on me.” Gideon had the same difficulty with Scim, whereas Kane’s avatar wouldn’t stoop to being a messenger.
“I’ll wait until after the midday meal before leaving, but I’ll pack now.” Duncan started to walk away but then paused briefly to point toward the horizon. “It appears your stallion is returning.”
Gideon and Kane remained where they were. For his part, Gideon should take pleasure in watching the simple beauty of the stallion in motion, his black coat gleaming in the bright sunshine. Instead, he wanted to jump on Kestrel’s back and ride for the keep with no more plan than to force his way inside to cross swords with Fagan and his men.
As the horse closed the remaining distance, Kane spoke, his words intruding on the gloom of Gideon’s thoughts. “Hold steady, Gideon. The man will pay for his abuses. The gods will have it no other way.”
Kane was right. One way or the other, a battle was quickly approaching. But rather than respond, Gideon launched himself up on Kestrel’s back and urged the stallion into a gallop. Maybe with the wind ripping through his hair and the pounding of Kestrel’s powerful hooves, he could find some brief moments of peace.
Chapter 9
Merewen needed to be careful if she was to approach Sir Murdoch without drawing unwanted attention to the men her uncle had hired last night. She had a reputation for ignoring Fagan’s men. Most of them looked to Olaf for leadership, making it wise to keep as much distance from them as possible. However, Murdoch and Averel were different, even if her uncle was too blind to see it.
She waited until they were in the stables. There, no one would question if she acted more interested in the horses than she was in the men.
When she walked into the stable, Murdoch was checking his mare’s feet. “Is there something wrong with your mare, Sir Murdoch?”
This time she managed to hide her shivers when he turned those cold pale eyes in her direction. Earlier she’d heard some of the servants muttering about the two men, but she’d shushed them.
Murdoch lowered the hoof to the ground. “Just making sure she hadn’t picked up a rock. We’ve done some hard riding the past few days, and she was limping a bit.”
Merewen nodded and ran her hand down the big mare’s leg, opening herself up to the mare’s thoughts. “It feels a bit hot, but she’s not in any pain. Still, if you’ll come with me, I’ll fix you a poultice to put on it.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
“I’m glad to help. We pride ourselves on the care we give our horses.”
No, here it was the people who suffered from neglect. She led him toward the small workshop she’d had built nearby. Several of her treatments required the use of boiling water, and the risk of fire prevented her from preparing them in the stable itself.
Murdoch stood close by while she steeped the herbs in hot water and then wrapped the mixture in a piece of cloth that would enable him to tie the poultice in place. As she worked, he stared out the door, his silence becoming heavy like a storm about to break.
Finally, he spoke, his voice filled with the chill of the river. “The lady, who is she?”
Merewen looked around to see which woman Murdoch was talking about, but there was no one in sight.
“Which lady?” she asked, although she had her suspicions. Both Murdoch and Averel had had a clear view of Alina while they were speaking with her uncle the previous evening.
“The one with your uncle’s handprint on her face.”
The cold fury in Murdoch’s voice had Merewen shivering despite the heat of the fire. “Alina is my uncle’s wife.”
To her relief, Murdoch merely nodded as if she’d confirmed his suspicions, and then he changed the subject. “I told Captain Gideon that we’ve been hired on.”
“He was here and I missed him?” As soon as the words slipped out, Merewen regretted them.
If her companion found anything odd about her distress, he gave no sign of it. “No, he wouldn’t risk coming close to the keep yet. He sent the gyrfalcon in his stead. Scim carried the message back to him.”
What had Murdoch told Gideon? It couldn’t have been a very long letter if it had to fit around a gyrfalcon’s leg. Of course, she knew from personal experience that Scim was capable of carrying far more weight than the average bird, not that there was anything average about him. Averel’s avatars, too, were outside the normal size for dogs.
What symbol was painted on Murdoch’s shield? She couldn’t remember. Was it out of bounds for her to ask? He could always refuse to answer.
As she squeezed the excess water from the bandage, she asked, “Who is your special companion?”
At first she thought he was going to ignore her, but the big man’s stern mouth softened almost into a smile. “A mountain cat. It is unlikely that you’ll meet her anytime soon. She wouldn’t attack except at my command, but people and horses are skittish around big cats. Besides, it is difficult to explain to people why she’s with me in the first place. Mountain cats are known to be reclusive.”
The only such cat she’d ever seen firsthand was the one that had attacked Rogue. She had no desire to meet another one. Those sharp fangs had haunted her dreams long after Rogue had healed from his wounds.
“Here’s the poultice. The herbs should draw out the heat and relieve any swelling. Leave it in place for several hours. If her leg is not better by tomorrow, send for me so we can try something else.”
Murdoch accepted the bandage with a small nod. “Thank you, my lady. I’ll apply it and then join the other men for sword practice.”
Averel was waiting for them as they walked outside. She cautioned them both. “Sir Averel, Sir Murdoch, please be careful if you cross blades with Fagan or his captain. The others are only average, but my uncle prides himself on his skill with a sword. Olaf is almost as good. They take pleasure in besting anyone new to the keep. Most men r
equire stitches after they are introduced to my uncle’s style of practice.”
Averel bowed his head as they withdrew. “We appreciate your concern, Lady Merewen, but have no worry. We can defend ourselves.”
She hoped so. She really did.
Alina didn’t know what had brought the two strangers to the manor, but blessings to the gods who guided their footsteps. She hadn’t spoken a word to either of them and couldn’t imagine an occasion where she would have need to, but nonetheless she was glad for their presence. Their arrival last evening had been enough to distract her husband from his displeasure with both her and Merewen.
For that, she would be grateful. One night without new pain was a gift to be cherished. She’d slept undisturbed in her own bed and felt much better when she rose to face the day. When she’d peeked in her husband’s room to see if he had need of her, she was relieved to find him gone.
His servant said he was outside observing the young warrior’s dogs. She shuddered at the thought. Both of the animals stood nearly waist-high to a grown man with teeth strong enough to crack bones. Still, they had been well behaved during dinner, and the other dogs had stayed clear of them—a good thing. Fagan would not have easily forgiven an injury to one of his precious pack. After all, he cared more about the dogs than he did about her.
Oddly enough, it was the older of the two new men who had drawn her attention during the meal. More than once she’d noticed him staring at the high table. When he’d been looking in Fagan’s direction, the warrior’s expression had been rock hard and cold, typical of the men her husband liked to surround himself with. However, when the man’s gaze had turned toward her, she’d thought those oddly pale eyes were sympathetic.
That was probably only wishful thinking. Other than Merewen, no one was willing to risk Fagan’s fury by befriending his lonely wife. Alina didn’t blame them, but she missed the days spent in her mother’s bower surrounded by other women.
My Lady Mage: A Warriors of the Mist Novel Page 10