My Lady Mage: A Warriors of the Mist Novel

by Alexis Morgan

  Interesting. “So it is not just your uncle whose actions have changed?”

  She ran her hands up and down her arms as if warding off a chill despite the warmth of the fire burning in the brazier. “No, the few remaining men who served my father are as they always were. It is only the ones who owe their first loyalty to Fagan who grow more violent and unpredictable.”

  Averel looked to Murdoch. “This sounds like something we should report back to the captain.”

  He agreed. “About the men who were loyal to your father. How many are there, and do you think they would take up arms against your uncle if you were to give such orders?”

  He liked that she didn’t immediately respond, clearly giving the matter some thought. The price for a wrong answer would most likely be paid in blood. Finally, she nodded.

  “Most would, I believe. For certain, none of them have any fondness for Fagan and his men. I think the only reason they have stayed this long is many have family here. Otherwise, I fear they would all be gone.”

  The hour was growing late, and the lady looked as if a stiff wind would scatter her across the ground like a pile of dried leaves.

  Even so, she offered Murdoch a weary smile. “Now, let’s see your arm.”

  He stood up. “My arm is fine. It was only an excuse to walk in without drawing Olaf’s suspicion. Give me a fresh bandage and Averel will tend to it. You should retire for the night. We’ll also see to your mare for you.”

  That she didn’t protest only gave evidence to how tired she really was. She banked the fire in the brazier. “I was going to come find you both to let you know that Scim is nearly recovered from his injuries.”

  So that was where she’d been. “That is indeed good news.”

  As they walked out into the night air, Averel stepped in front of Merewen. “Let me go first to see if Olaf intends to cause you trouble with your uncle. If it is safe for you to enter the hall, I’ll send my dogs to fetch you. If it isn’t, we will all come.”

  While they waited to hear, a movement in one of the narrow windows on the second floor caught Murdoch’s attention. A woman was watching them from above. Although she was too far away for him to see any real detail, he knew it was Lady Alina. When she raised her hand, no doubt she was acknowledging her niece, not him.

  But perhaps not. Truly, however, he had no right to be wishing that she were as aware of him as he was of her. The woman was married, even if the man she was wed to was a monster. Murdoch’s own honor would not allow him to admit how powerfully their few minutes together had affected him. Certainly, he would do nothing that would call the lady’s honor into question.

  “The dogs are coming. Sir Averel must think it is safe for me to return.”

  Murdoch had been so caught up in staring at Alina that he’d forgotten Lady Merewen. To make up for his brief neglect, he looked down at her. “Would you like me to walk in with you?”

  “I’ll be fine. Averel is inside, and I suspect the dogs will act as escorts as well.”

  Then she softly brushed her fingers across his bandaged arm. “Are you sure that you don’t want me to check your wound?”

  “It’s fine. Your lady aunt did an excellent job stitching it closed, and she cleaned it well beforehand using the soap you recommend. Either Averel or I will remove the thread. We’ve done it before.”

  “I’m sure you have.” Merewen’s deep brown eyes saw far too much. “I suspect the five of you have borne far more pain and injuries than any of you would admit or deserved.”

  Their story was not his to tell. If Gideon chose to share his truth with the lady, that was up to him. “We serve the gods, my lady. Now go before Averel thinks something is amiss and comes looking for you. I’ll see to the mare.”

  “Thank you for that. I hated to turn her into the stall that way. When I realized Olaf was hunting for me, I had hoped to avoid him by escaping to the workshop. Obviously he found me there.”

  “He will learn to keep his distance.”

  If Murdoch had to kill the fool to make sure of it. Certainly if the bastard ever laid a hand on her again in violence, Olaf had better hope it was Murdoch who came after him. He would make the man’s passing swift. Gideon would kill him, too, but without such mercy.

  “Good night, Lady Merewen.”

  He waited until she reached the door of the great hall before heading toward the stable. Once he took care of the horse, he’d seek out his own bed. Just before he walked through the door, he allowed himself one last look toward the window.

  It was empty. He tried not to think about how much that disappointed him.

  A boot in the ribs was never Gideon’s favorite way to wake up. He glared up at Kane and tried to decide whether the man had outlived his usefulness, because right now Gideon wanted to kill him.

  He rolled onto his back, shading his eyes from the sun. “What do you want?”

  When Kane smiled, Gideon grimaced. Smiles were also something he didn’t like to see so early in the day. “I was just curious why you’re sleeping out here in the grass when you could have a roof over your head.”

  “It was a nice night.”

  Not to mention once he’d pictured Merewen sharing his pallet, Gideon hadn’t been able to face sleeping there alone. He gave up on getting any more rest and threw his blanket aside. At least standing up, he didn’t feel at such a disadvantage. Kane followed him over to the well where Gideon drew a bucket of water to splash on his face to vanquish the last vestiges of sleep from his mind.

  Kane waited until he was finished to ask, “So, how long was the lady here last evening?”

  Gideon ignored the question, preferring to ask a few of his own. “Was your hunt successful?”

  His friend looked toward the mountains, his face settling into grim lines. “Hob enjoyed it.”

  “But you didn’t?”

  Kane dropped down on the bench by the door and stretched his legs out to look down at his dusty boots. “Not as much as I’d hoped to. We ran the trails together. Hunted some, enough to keep us fed.”

  “That’s good, but I take it there is something you’re not saying.”

  Kane seemed to be staring at something only he could see. Whatever it was, it haunted him. Finally he looked up again, his pale eyes tinged with a bloodred sheen. “That foulness in this land watches and waits.”

  He finally glanced up. “Its song calls to my blood.”

  Kane looked back at the mountains again. “I fear we’ve disturbed it somehow, drawing its attention in our direction. I’ve grown certain that Lady Merewen’s uncle is only a small part of why the gods have called upon us again.”

  Kane’s dark words came as no surprise. Gideon sat down beside his friend. “Have you remembered when you’ve encountered this before?”

  Kane’s hand touched the black stone imbedded in the hilt of his sword, the one he’d inherited from his grandfather. “No, not specifically, but eventually I will. Let us hope Duncan has better luck with his search. This evil grows in strength.”

  His somber words hung heavily in the air, a shadow that dimmed the day and sent a chill through Gideon. How were they to fight an invisible enemy?

  Perhaps there was one way. “If it becomes necessary, I will return to the river and ask for guidance.”

  Not that he would do so except as a last resort. Sometimes the price for asking the gods for gifts could be too high to pay. If Gideon alone would incur the debt, he wouldn’t hesitate. But his life was linked too closely to his friends; he would not risk causing them any further pain if he could avoid it.

  Kane sighed. “We are not yet that desperate.”

  Then he cast a sly look in Gideon’s direction. “You never answered my question earlier. How long was the lady here? At least tell me why.”

  Gideon didn’t bother asking Kane how he knew that Merewen had paid another visit to the cottage. To him. No one was a better tracker than Kane. He would have spotted her footprints in the dust and tasted her scent on the wind.<
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  “She came to tend to Scim’s injuries.”

  Kane might not believe that was the whole truth, but for the moment he accepted the change in subjects. “How is that feathered scavenger, anyway?”

  The gyrfalcon and Kane had an interesting relationship, one that wasn’t always peaceful. Over the years, Scim had been known to swoop in and rob Kane of his kills. The bird also took great delight in harassing Hob. Although Kane had his own ways of getting even with the falcon, Gideon knew his friend had been genuinely worried about the bird.

  “By the time the lady arrived, his colors were already almost back to full strength on the shield, but she insisted on checking him over herself. It turns out she has the same talent for working with birds as she does with horses. She soothed away the last of his pain.”

  He smiled. “Certainly Scim’s appetite hadn’t suffered. She brought him a mess of chicken entrails that he devoured with his usual lack of table manners. The last I saw of him, he was inside, sleeping off his meal up in the rafters.”

  “And how long did Lady Merewen linger after she’d seen to Scim’s injuries?”

  Always a dogged hunter, Kane obviously wasn’t going to stop until Gideon answered him. “Long enough to watch me eat the apple pastries she brought for us.”

  “That doesn’t explain why her scent clings to you.”

  The attempted distraction didn’t work. “No, it doesn’t.”

  He decided to share some of his frustrations. “She confounds me, Kane. First, she rides out here, knowing full well her uncle does not like her to wander at will. When I told her to let Murdoch and Duncan handle any abuses of her people by her uncle, she told me it was her duty to interfere because they are her responsibility. I lost my temper. That’s as much as you need to know.”

  It came as no surprise that Kane still had more to say on the subject. “The lady has a strong gift for tying you up in knots. I wish I’d been here to see it.”

  Gideon has mixed feelings about that. If Kane had been there, things would not have gotten so far out of hand. Still, he preferred not to lie to himself. He could not bring himself to regret kissing her again.

  Well aware that Kane was still waiting, Gideon finally turned to face him. “I have no control around her. I’m not sure what I’m going to do about that. Now, unless you want me to have the rest of the apple pastries for my morning meal, I suggest you go eat them now and then get some rest. I think we should both ride the plains this afternoon to see what we can learn.”

  Kane rarely touched anyone, but he put his hand on Gideon’s shoulder. “The river has made us all cold. Perhaps putting the lady in your path is the gods’ way of reminding us all of what it feels like to be human.”

  His smile wasn’t a happy one. “Or at least mostly human. My darker half is never far from my mind.”

  There wasn’t much Gideon could say to that, so he said nothing. Kane left him sitting in the sunshine and disappeared into the cottage.

  * * *

  When the sun was directly overhead, the two of them rode out onto the grasslands. Gideon had no particular destination in mind other than to avoid Merewen’s keep. He needed to give Fagan time to adjust to the three new additions to the keep before making his own approach. Too many visitors to the remote estate in such a short time could make the man suspicious. Besides, Gideon couldn’t risk any of Fagan’s men seeing Kane. The warrior, marked as he was by dark magic, was too distinctive to be easily forgotten.

  Kane’s grandfather had been a dark mage of the worst kind, greedy and violent. He’d been dead for untold centuries, yet his name was still whispered in fear. That Kane had foresworn anything but the magic wielded by the Damned never seemed to matter. He carried the taint in his blood and the mage mark on his face, and so was shunned.

  He pretended not to care, simply ignoring the insults and the whispers that often followed his footsteps. Gideon hurt for his friend, knowing Kane to be an honorable warrior, one who had fought at his side for far too long. And even if Kane’s blood did carry his grandfather’s gift for magic in his veins, he still hurt and bled like any other man.

  They rode on in silence. The two stallions weren’t happy to be so close together but soon settled down. It probably helped that none of Kestrel’s mares were there, but for everyone’s sake, Gideon hoped they’d make peace with one another.

  Which brought another thought to his mind. “Kane, did you introduce Hob to Rogue last night?”

  The rough sound of Kane’s laughter rang out as he leaned forward to pat the big gray on the neck. “Yes, I did. Rogue trembled, but he stood his ground as Hob circled around him. I was worried that if Hob got too close, Rogue might kick him.”

  As he described the event, there was a lightness in Kane’s mood that had been absent earlier in the day. “They finally ended up standing nose to nose for the longest time before turning to look at me. Rogue shook his head and snorted while Hob growled a bit. I think they were saying they’d better stand together since they both share the burden of putting up with me.”

  Gideon could picture that in his head. Hob’s fierce loyalty to Kane also extended to those Kane cared about. Rogue was just contrary enough to like the beast.

  They’d reached a low rise that afforded them a view of the grasslands in several directions. If something was out there, Gideon couldn’t sense it, but then the attack on Scim had come out of nowhere.

  He turned to ask Kane if he was having better luck, but the words died unspoken. His friend sat stone-still, staring off into the distance toward the east. The muscles in his neck stood out in stark relief as if he were in pain. Worse yet, the symbol on Kane’s face had darkened to nearly black, a warning that evil magic was in the air.

  “Kane?”

  Rogue stirred restlessly, pawing the ground with his forefoot. Still no response from the warrior on his back. Gideon guided Kestrel closer to the other horse, and for once neither stallion objected. They seemed to realize that right now there was something more important than their usual bickering.

  Gideon hesitated to touch his friend. But if Kane had been ensorcelled, he had to do something. Grabbing Kane’s arm, he squeezed it hard enough to bruise. “Kane, what is it? What’s wrong?”

  The day was not hot, but a heavy sheen of sweat gleamed on Kane’s face, and his eyes were unfocused and unblinking. Gideon tried again, this time punching Kane’s arm—anything to break him free from whatever it was that held him in its grip.

  Abruptly, the tension was gone, and Kane slumped forward in the saddle. He swallowed hard and breathed deeply several times as though struggling to fill his lungs.

  “Kane, what is it?” Gideon asked, keeping his voice to a whisper, fearful of drawing the danger back to them.

  Over the centuries, Gideon had seen plenty of expressions on Kane’s face—from anger to bloodlust to amusement. Together they had faced enemy armies, overwhelming numbers, and even the judgment of the gods. Fear was the one thing that Gideon had never expected to see in Kane’s eyes.

  Sometimes there were questions that a man never wanted to learn the answer to; yet they had to be asked. “What was it?”

  At first he thought his friend would refuse to answer. Finally, he spoke, his words colder than the river in midwinter.

  “There are magics that even my grandfather knew better than to invoke, the kind that destroy a man’s soul.” His hand gripped his sword, the black stone flashing bright with the power of his blood. “Someone has been foolish enough to unleash one such evil upon this land.”

  Now at least they knew why Merewen’s call for the warriors’ help had been granted. Gideon offered his hand to Kane, once again to swear a solemn vow to do the work of the gods.

  “So we are charged with rooting out the source of this evil and destroying it.”

  Kane took Gideon’s hand; his grip had a desperate feel that had never been there before. “Captain, know this. I know not who the true enemy is, but I can tell you this much. A bargain has
been struck, and the price was paid in innocent blood.”

  Then once again he looked into the distance. “Even now I sense it hungers for more.”

  Chapter 12

  “Niece! Attend to me.”

  Merewen’s footsteps faltered to a stop. She’d hoped to reach her room without attracting her uncle’s notice. Knowing she was trapped, she started across the hall to where Fagan waited with his wife. Alina stood at his side, her hands clasped at her waist, her eyes focused somewhere in the distance. Clearly she was hoping that, by remaining motionless, she wouldn’t draw her husband’s attention.

  “Yes, Uncle.”

  He looked at her in disapproval. “Must you always reek of the stables?”

  His hand shot out toward her head. She ducked back, sure that he was about to hit her. Instead, he snatched a piece of straw from her hair. Despite his supposed disgust with her appearance, he obviously enjoyed seeing her flinch.

  Fagan nodded in his wife’s direction. “Alina might not be good for much, in my bed or out of it, but at least she looks the part of a lady. You would do well to learn from her example.”

  Alina paled at her husband’s cruel remarks but remained statue-still. Merewen understood why the woman didn’t defend herself. She had good reason to fear Fagan far more than Merewen did. If he had so little regard for his wife as to insult her in front of others, how badly must he treat her in the privacy of their bedroom?

  It wasn’t in Merewen’s nature to always back down or to cower in fear. She knew in her heart that were she forced to marry such a man, she would likely provoke him to the point of murder—either his or hers. Gideon’s image filled her mind, his strength incredible but his touch so gentle. With the blessings of the gods, he would end Fagan’s tyranny. Would Alina rejoice or mourn her husband’s death? For it was coming, even if the man himself was unaware that his actions would lead to his own destruction.