“Gavin, I feel bad about how you found out about who I used to be,” Kiri said, wringing her hands and looking at the ground, “and I feel like I have no reason to ask this of you. But…”
“You want to divert to your grandparents’ farm and help them defend it against these Roensils.” Kiri’s eyes shot up to look at Gavin, as he continued. “Kiri, everyone has a right to their own secrets, and I don’t fault you for protecting that one. If I’m completely honest, it would’ve been nice to find out about it some other way, but it is what it is. I left Tel Mivar to help your family. There’s no reason we can’t help both sides of your family while we’re at it.”
Kiri’s smile would’ve lit an overcast night bright as a day at high noon.
Chapter 9
“Oh, my,” Kiri said, her utterance almost a gasp. “I don’t remember the manor looking like that.”
They were stopped at the crest of a small hill overlooking the manor of Kiri’s grandparents. The manor below looked eerily reminiscent of the fortified Sivas manor. Several work parties labored at reinforcing the manor wall and increasing its height, while two elevated guard-posts flanked the main gate. Sentry towers also now stood at each corner of the manor wall and at the mid-point of each side. Structures that looked to be barracks and an armory sat back near the stables, and many armed individuals patrolled the land inside the manor wall.
“It looks like a fortified camp,” Lillian said.
“Master Claymark accepts as a fact that the Roensils are coming for him,” Seb said from his somewhat-precarious perch atop one of the pack-mules. “He’s doing everything he can to defend against them when they come.”
Gavin scanned the various work being done, and a half-smile curled one side of his mouth as he said, “Well, I daresay we’ll be able to add to his defenses…if he’ll have us. I think we’d best make ourselves known from the outset. Let’s take a moment to don our robes, and we’ll wear our medallions outside our clothes.”
A short time later, they approached the manor’s gate. Now close enough to make out details, Gavin saw that of the two people in each guard-post one held a longbow and the other a crossbow.
As they came within fifteen feet of the gate, one guard said, “That’s close enough. State your names and business.”
“My name is Gavin Cross, and I am Head of House Kirloth. I am here to offer the help of my associates and myself to the master of this manor.”
“Wait there,” the guard said. He signaled a guard patrolling nearby and sent him to the manor house to request the master’s presence at the gate.
A few minutes later, two men in tailored work clothes approached the gate. One looked to be on the upper end of middle age, his skin weathered and wrinkled with his dark hair mixed with gray. The other was young, and the family resemblance was enough that Gavin thought he was the older man’s son.
“I am Natan Claymark, master of this manor, and this is my son, Paul. What’s this about you offering your help? How did you even know of our situation?”
“Your man Seb got a bit turned around and headed north instead of south,” Gavin said as he stepped down from Jasmine. Kiri dismounted too, careful to keep her hood pulled low over her head. “He collapsed at the edge of our camp a couple nights ago, and once he recovered, he explained your situation. I diverted from our destination to offer you our help at the request of my friend…who also happens to be your granddaughter.”
“You’ll have to do better than that, young fool,” Natan said. “My granddaughter died at sea over two years ago.”
“No, Grandfather, I didn’t,” Kiri said, approaching the gate and pulling back her hood. “Hi, Uncle Paul.”
Before anyone else could react, Natan had the gate unlatched and stood at arms’ length in front of Kiri. He grasped her shoulders in his large, calloused hands, and he looked her all over in disbelief, his green eyes glinting with unshed tears. He pulled Kiri into an embrace, holding her tight.
“Oh, little Kiri…I thought we’d lost you, girl.” Natan released Kiri and, turning to his son, said, “Look who’s come home.”
Paul smiled and knelt to one knee, saying, “Your Highness, welcome home. It has been too long.”
“Uncle Paul…you know Father and I don’t require family to kneel when it’s just us.”
“Ah, but it’s not just us…is it, Your Highness?” Paul said. “I count fifteen people within earshot and another fifty with eyesight.”
“Quite right,” Natan said, kneeling as well.
Within moments, a wave of kneeling went out from the area surrounding the gate as those present followed their master’s lead.
“Oh, stand up,” Kiri said, her voice carrying just a hint of exasperation. “I’m trying to keep a low profile as we travel through Vushaar.”
Natan and Paul pushed themselves to their feet, and soon, all those present did so as well.
“Kiri makes a good point,” Gavin said, approaching Natan and Paul. “Forgive me, but we need to make sure none of your people will carry any tales of Kiri’s return.”
Natan grimaced. “There was a time I’d vouch for anyone wearing my colors, but with the Roensil threat, I’ve had to expand my retinue faster than I’d like. How would you make sure?”
“Muster your people in the courtyard, here, and have them divide themselves into five lines. My apprentices and I will see to the rest.”
Experienced mages had access to a spell called ‘Divination of Truth.’ It was a Fourth Circle spell that surrounded the target in a gray aura when cast. For the duration of the spell, that aura would turn blazing white for truth or bright, malevolent red for a lie. Gavin had no scrolls of the spell, but because he had learned of the spell during his studies and the spell’s progenitor during his perusal of Mivar’s Histories, Gavin knew he could duplicate the effect by invoking a Word of Divination.
While Natan mustered everyone (including the workers who were reinforcing the walls) in the courtyard, Gavin showed his apprentices the Word they would invoke to duplicate Divination of Truth. He then showed them the Word of Tutation they would use to dispel the effect upon successful verification of the individual’s loyalty to the Muran line first and Natan Claymark and his family second.
It took most of the afternoon to work through all those present, but it was worth it. They discovered five guards with questionable loyalty to the Muran line who were spies for the Roensils and ten people who were far more loyal to Natan Claymark and his family than the Muran line. In other circumstances, that could have proved problematic, but because Natan’s oldest child and daughter had married Terris Muran, those ten individuals were far more loyal to Kiri than her father.
“Thank you for showing me who I could trust,” Natan said, facing Gavin and his friends. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised the Roensils infiltrated my guard force; I’m just glad none of them worked on any of the wall improvements.”
“Now that we have them,” Gavin said, “would you like to see if they know anything of the Roensils’ plans?”
“I’ve never been fond of torture, good sir. I feel it provides unreliable results.”
Gavin smiled. “Oh, we don’t need to torture them. We’ll start with a simple Divination of Truth to see if they have any knowledge of Roensils’ plans. Hopefully, we’ll find at least one who does not, and we can use that one as a lesson. The others should be much more helpful at that point. Pity mind-readers don’t exist; we could pluck the information we wanted right out of their heads.”
“When you say use one as a lesson, what do you mean by that?” Natan asked.
Gavin turned his attention from the five guards sitting on the ground, tied at the hands and feet, to face Natan. “Are you sure you want to know?”
“I see. I’m not comfortable harming any of them. We don’t need the information that badly.”
“I was trained in the Art and in what it means to be Kirloth by the man who dueled Milthas and founded the Kingdom of Tel. The family employing t
hese men seeks to kill you, your family, and your people. If Kiri is here when they come for you and they find her, they’ll kill her, too.
“There was a time I would’ve agreed with you…that there are some things that no one should ever do, no matter the provocation or the end goal. I am not that man anymore, Natan, and the only way you’ll stop me from using these men to ensure Kiri’s safety is demanding I leave your lands.”
“I’m not a religious man,” Natan said. “I believe in hard work and making your own fate through perseverance and doing to others as you would have others do unto you. I cannot expect others to show kindness to me if I don’t show kindness to others. Yes, these men are working for the family that seeks my death and the death of my family, but that doesn’t change my values. I won’t let you torture these men.”
Gavin gazed into Natan’s eyes in silence for several moments. If any of those men escaped, they would take the knowledge that Kiri lived with them. Gavin wasn’t ready for the world at large to learn Kiri lived, especially through a family determined to eliminate her grandfather’s line just to make a grab for land. Still, if he killed them, what would that make him? He’d killed Sivas more out of strategic need than any pique, revenge, or anything like that, and the truth of it was he didn’t regret killing Sivas in the least. As he stood there looking Natan in his eyes, Gavin knew he wouldn’t regret killing those five guards, either…not even a little bit. There was nothing for it; Gavin needed advice.
“A few moments please, Natan,” Gavin said and turned to his fellows. Gesturing for them to follow him, Gavin walked far enough away for their conversation to be out of earshot.
“What is it, Gavin?” Lillian asked when they’d gathered.
Gavin focused on Kiri, who faced him with a knowing expression. “Kiri knows.”
Lillian turned to Kiri, saying, “Well?”
“He’s debating killing those men,” Kiri said. “A clean death wouldn’t be torture, and the knowledge I’m alive would be safe. But I doubt it would secure my grandfather as a friend; he might tell us to leave, even knowing he needs our help.”
“Trust me, Kiri,” Gavin said. “Your grandfather will always love you. Nothing will ever take that away. But I—on the other hand—don’t care in the slightest what he thinks of me. Those guards present a possible source of information regarding Roensils’ plans and a threat to you through their knowledge. I am certain the proper course of action is to wrack those men’s body and souls until they’re begging to tell us everything they know. Barring that, they should not leave this estate alive…not with what they know.”
“Gavin,” Kiri said, “people will learn I’m alive regardless of what we do. If nothing else, word will spread once I’m home and at Father’s side again.”
“Yes, that’s true,” Declan said, “but we have to cross over half your country to deliver you safely back home. Knowledge that you’re alive and trying to make it home would create many complications and might very well lead to failure. It makes little sense to save the kingdom from Ivarson’s rebellion if you’re killed on the way to the capital.”
“Gavin and Declan are right,” Elayna said. “Until you’re within the palace walls in Vushaar, our greatest protection is the world at large thinking the Crown Princess is dead. All it would take is one crossbow quarrel, one arrow, or a caster capable of death magic, and the Muran line is ended.” She turned to look Gavin right in his eyes. “It’s no secret anyone bearing the mantle of Kirloth is capable of a level of ruthlessness the common person would never consider, and the sad, unfortunate fact is that this world needs that ruthlessness from time to time. It’s the sacrifice you make so we don’t have to. Be the Kirloth your mentor trained you to be, Gavin, and follow your conscience.”
Gavin looked to each of his associates who hadn’t spoken, offering them each a chance to weigh in. None of them did.
“Very well,” Gavin said, turning and walking back to Natan, Paul, and the five guards.
“Natan,” Gavin said, stopping to stand about eight feet from Natan and his son, “I respect your convictions and your morals, but I do not share them. These men represent a threat to Kiri so grave they could jeopardize our chances of seeing Kiri safely home if they lived, and I cannot think of any kind of assurance they could give that would stay my hand.” Gavin shifted his attention to the five men and invoked a Word, “Thraxys.”
A slight tightening around his eyes indicated Gavin’s discomfort as the five men died. Natan looked at the five corpses, his expression horrified.
“How could…you killed those men!”
“Yes, I did,” Gavin said, “and I won’t apologize for it. Kiri is safer with them dead.”
Natan turned to look at Gavin, and Gavin saw judgment and condemnation in his eyes as he said, “You’re a merciless man, Gavin Cross; may the gods save you from ever needing mercy yourself.”
Natan turned and walked to the manor house, his head low.
Gavin watched him go and, in the corner of his eye, saw Paul turn from looking toward his father to look at him. He shifted his attention to Kiri’s uncle.
“For what it’s worth, I understand your choice,” Paul said. “I don’t think I could have done it, but I understand it.”
Paul then turned and walked after his father.
Chapter 10
A short time later, Gavin and his friends sat around a large table with Natan, Paul, and the leaders of Natan’s guard force.
“Do we have any information on when the Roensils plan to move against you?” Gavin asked.
Natan still looked unsettled, but he rose to the occasion and shook his head. “We know they’ve been hiring mercenaries, and their selection criteria isn’t too specific.”
“See lightning and hear thunder?” Declan asked, drawing a chuckle from Sarres.
“Pretty much,” Natan said. “For all I know, they’re building a raiding force. We’re one of the largest grain producers for the country, and it wouldn’t take much to ruin us.”
“I don’t see that,” Sarres said. “From everything we’ve discussed, this Roensil is only attacking you for the land itself. It gains him nothing if his attack spoils the land. Describe the Roensil who’s in charge, please.”
“He’s a great, hulking brute of a man,” Paul said. “In his younger days, he killed several in brawls with one punch. Unfortunately, he’s not stupid, either. He has an almost feral cunning about him, and he doesn’t suffer fools. His oldest son was little more than a simpleton, and when the boy ruined a business deal for the family a third time, the old man wrung his neck.”
Sarres nodded in silence. After a few moments, he lifted his head to face Natan, saying, “He’ll come for you here, then. It’ll be a straight-up fight. He may have a few surprises in the way of tactics, but what your son just said leads me to think this will be as much as a lesson about what’s in store for any who oppose him as a grab for your family’s land.”
“There have been rumors he’s selling grain to Ivarson’s troops,” Natan said. “I don’t want to believe it, myself. The Roensils were one of the most loyal families for many decades, centuries even. The original homestead came from a land grant by one of His Majesty’s ancestors many, many years ago for honorable service above and beyond the call of duty.”
Just then, a knock heralded the entrance of Natan’s majordomo. “Milord, there’s an itinerant trader at the gate, asking to speak with you. He says he has information you need.”
“I find this very suspicious, Father,” Paul said.
“It is odd; I’ll grant you that.”
Gavin shrugged. “I’ll speak with him at the gate, then. If there’s nothing to it or if he’s a panhandler looking to sell tall tales for coin, I’ll toss him a few silvers and send him on his way.”
Natan regarded Gavin with undisguised puzzlement. “Charity from Kirloth?”
“I take no joy from killing, Natan,” Gavin said as he pushed himself to his feet. “but neither do I avoid its
utility.”
Gavin followed the majordomo to the manor wall’s gate. A man stood there, dressed in shabby, road-worn clothes, and he looked to be on the upper end of middle age. Salt-and-pepper hair lay matted and greasy against his scalp, and Gavin smelled him some fifteen feet from the gate. In his left hand, he held the reins of a pack-mule loaded with bulging sacks and all manner of random items.
“Master Claymark is indisposed,” Gavin said as he approached the man, “but I promise whatever information you give me will reach him.”
“Weel now,” the man said in a raspy, weathered voice, “ain’t ye just th’ soul o’ kindness.” The man scratched at his right hip for a moment before shifting his attention to his left arm. As the man pushed back the sleeve of his filthy tunic to scratch his left forearm, Gavin saw a Wraith tattoo on the man’s left wrist.
“Been a long time since I seen a wizard o’ yer House, boy. Are ye the real thang or just some jumped-up puppy all full of piss ‘n vinegar?”
“Oh, I’m real enough,” Gavin said. “Now, do you have that information or not?”
“I been trading my circle, seein’ all the settlements north of Thartan. I kin make enough to pay for the whole trip tradin’ spices at the Roensil estate, and I never seen that place as empty as it was, just th’ other day. The missus, Lady Roensil she likes to be called, told me her man and his people were out on a ride and left just enough to keep the manor safe. The man at the gate said Old Man Roensil left a few days ago with something like seven hundred men.”
Gavin nodded, saying, “Thank you. I’m not sure we have anything to trade with you, but I appreciate the information.” He retrieved his coin purse and started to withdraw a handful of silvers but then changed his mind and extended a gold piece to the trader with his right hand. “Here, take this for your trouble. You might want to be some distance down the road, sooner rather than later.”
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