Gavin chuckled, the malevolent mirthless smile returning to his mouth. “You don’t have a choice, really. You see…the necromantic healing was only the first third of that composite effect. The second was the equivalent of a geas and contingency, and the final third was what happens if the terms of the geas are ever unfulfilled.”
“What have you done to me?”
“You must never stay in one settlement—whether trading post, village, town, or city—for more than five consecutive days, and every time you enter a settlement as I previously defined, you must recount the story of what happened here today…but more important, you must tell them why.”
“I know why…you’re bloodthirsty monster!”
“Do you remember the woman you happened across at night six days ago? She was walking alone and put up a half-decent fight? The woman this lady at my side wouldn’t let you pursue more intimate entertainments with?”
“Yeah…”
“That woman is my friend and, beyond that, very dear to me, and all of this is a warning or, as I said earlier, an object lesson. This and worse is what awaits anyone who attacks my friends or those I have placed under my protection. My birth name is Gavin Cross, but you may call me…Kirloth.”
Gavin was pleased to see the expected reaction in this man as well, or perhaps, especially in this man.
“Oh, yes…you should know what will befall you should you fail to tell your tale. I would imagine what you feel now and felt in your left arm is rather unpleasant. Right now, you will age normally, never suffer disease or any form of physical injury, and you will live a normal lifespan. However, if you ever enter a settlement and tell no one of what happened today, who did it, or why, the rest of your body will wither and die to match your arm, and you will live with that pain until the end of time. Now, go. You have a lot of traveling to do.”
The man scrabbled to his feet and headed northwest. Gavin watched him as he went. He knew he should probably feel some remorse over the doom he had just levied upon that man, but Gavin couldn’t find any remorse within himself, not a shred. As he watched the distant man hobble over the small hill out of sight, Gavin wondered if that lack of remorse made him a bad person.
“Gavin,” Sarres shouted as he leaped down from the sole tree to survive the destruction, “we have troops incoming! The outriders are twenty minutes away, at best!”
“There’s no time,” Gavin said, as he scanned the desolate landscape around them. His eyes finally came to rest on Kaila. “Who’s she?”
“She’s…she’s my sister, Gavin. She orchestrated all of this and has allied with Ivarson,” Kiri said. “It will break my father’s heart when he learns of this.” Kiri’s eyes widened just a bit, then hardened, and she looked into Gavin’s eyes. “Gavin, I would spare my father the pain of ordering her execution for treason, and it would kill my aunt, too.” Kiri squared her shoulders. “Kaila Claymark is a traitor to Vushaar, and the penalty for treason is death. As Crown Princess of Vushaar, I ask you, Kirloth, to carry out that sentence forthwith.”
Gavin didn’t even blink as he spoke the Word, “Thraxys.” Kaila collapsed to the ground, like a puppet whose strings were cut.
“What are you doing still standing around?” Sarres said, skidding to a stop at the side of the group. “Those outriders are going to be here any minute.”
“There’s nothing for it,” Gavin said. “The only way we’ll survive is not to be here when those troops arrive. Kiri, give me your hand, and I want you to focus every facet of your mind on home…someplace large enough to receive all of these slaves besides us. Can you do that?”
“Gavin…you look like you have one foot in the grave already. I’m not-”
“If you have another option—a better option—then put words to it! We’re losing time!”
Kiri sighed and took Gavin’s right hand in both of hers. As she lifted his hand, Gavin’s sleeve slipped back, revealing a forearm almost completely black from the Void-scar. Kiri closed her eyes.
This is going to be nine kinds of bad, Gavin thought before he cleared his mind of all thought, focusing on his intent. Once his intent became a solid image in his mind, excluding all else, he spoke the Words, “Ikrhys-Paedryx.”
The palace courtyard served as both an ingress to the palace complex and a parade ground for the Cavaliers on those rare occasions they paraded. At just before noon on a bright sunny day, the courtyard was devoid of life…except for four Cavaliers acting as ‘ceremonial’ guards and the various shrubs, flowers, and small trees the groundskeepers labored to keep alive.
Despite all their training to be the elite troops of the Vushaari army, the Cavaliers stood stock still and gaped at the sight of almost five hundred people and several horses appearing in the courtyard out of thin air. There was no poof of smoke, no fanfare…nothing. They were just suddenly there.
“Did we make it?” Gavin asked, his voice a raspy whisper.
“Yes, Gavin, we did,” Kiri said as alarms began ringing all throughout the palace compound.
“Good.” Gavin’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed. He would’ve struck the flagstones with a bit of force, had Declan not acted with haste to catch him.
Chapter 20
Q’Orval deBentak had seen a great many things in his life. Some good and several not so good, but the sight before him as he pushed through the ring of Cavaliers in the courtyard stopped him more thoroughly than an arrow or crossbow quarrel. The Cavaliers ringing the group that arrived out of nowhere had their swords out. Five of the newly arrived group had their swords out as well, and an additional four held orbs of incandescent, kaleidoscopic power roiling and seething above the palms of their hands. Those four stood at cardinal points around the mass of people—who were very clearly slaves for the most part—with their backs to the group at large. One look at the silver medallions resting atop the sternums of those four told Q’Orval who the far more dangerous people were…without one shred of doubt.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Q’Orval demanded, shouldering his way through the ring of Cavaliers.
“It’s an assault on the palace, Lord Chamberlain!” one of the Cavaliers said, her voice urgent.
“Do none of you recognize Roth Thatcherson, second in command of the King’s personal guard?” Q’Orval asked. “I would think you owe him a bit more respect than this, not to mention the arrival of such august guests as the Heirs of the Great Houses of Tel. Unless I miss my guess, you lot skate on precariously thin ice just now.”
“You’re not wrong,” a woman wearing the Glyph of Mivar said, her eyes never leaving her section of the ring. “One wrong move, and they all die.”
“If you’re not assaulting the palace, what could possibly be so important you’d react with this level of threatened violence?”
“As our mentor likes to say, we don’t make threats,” Lady Mivar said. “We make promises.”
The movement of a figure out from behind Roth and his team drew Q’Orval’s attention, and he froze, feeling very much like his heart had seized.
“They’re protecting me, Q’Orval,” Kiri said.
“Kiri? Is that really you?” Q’Orval gasped. “We all thought you dead!” The reality of the situation dawned on Q’Orval, and his expression turned fierce. “Sheathe your swords, all of you…now! You’ve committed treason by drawing steel on the Crown Princess.”
None of the Cavaliers moved.
Kiri looked around the group and sighed, saying, “Lillian, if you please? I’d rather none of them died, though.”
“Pharhyk,” Lillian said, and the orb of power above her right palm flashed as every weapon carried by the Cavaliers forming the ring around them dissolved to iron filings and leather wrapping.
“That wasn’t the Word Gavin normally uses,” Mariana said from her position.
“I don’t think I’m strong enough for that Word yet,” Lillian replied. “As strong as Gavin is, he can bull his way through most problems. Besides, I think I’
ve heard somewhere that the effect is shaped by the invoker’s intent.”
Wynn and Braden snorted their laughter.
Q’Orval felt he was missing a good part of that exchange, but it was a matter for another time. He smiled as he returned his attention to Kiri, saying, “Come with me, Princess; I think there’s someone who will want to meet you. Roth, can you and your associates see to these disarmed individuals? I’m sure the King will want a moment of their time in the very near future.”
“What of these refugees, Q’Orval?” Kiri asked as Roth directed his team to begin rounding up the disarmed Cavaliers. “We couldn’t leave them where they were. A contingent of troops from Ivarson’s army was on the way to collect them as conscripts.”
“We’ll take care of them, Your Highness; I promise. In all truth, I’m not quite sure how, right this moment, but we will. Oh, if you don’t mind, I’d like to arrange quarters for your friends where they can freshen up before meeting the King.”
“Offended by our clothing already, Q’Orval?” Kiri said, a teasing sparkle in her eyes as a grin threatened to curl her lips.
“Not at all, Your Highness,” Q’Orval replied with aplomb. “I just know what it will mean to your father to see you again, and I’m sure he’d rather that be as private an affair as possible.”
“Declan, could you bring him here, please?” Kiri said over her shoulder before returning her attention to Q’Orval. The crowd shifted and parted behind Kiri, and Q’Orval felt his eyes widen when he saw none other than Declan the Dandy approach Kiri’s side.
“But…you went on an expedition to the eastern archipelagos! I’m told the crowd at Birsha almost collapsed the pier.”
Declan shrugged with one shoulder, despite the unconscious form he carried. “A convenient fiction, old friend. Older allegiances required my service for a time, and I needed to disappear.”
“Q’Orval,” Kiri said, drawing his attention back to her, “I want you to take very good care of this man Declan is carrying. He’s the only reason I’m safe, and what’s more, he’s the only reason any of us were able to avoid that conscription party I mentioned.”
“He shall have the best care, then,” Q’Orval said. “If I may ask, who is he?”
“Gavin Cross,” Kiri said, “Head of House Kirloth.”
Despite all his years at court, Q’Orval blanched. His eyes flicked to the Heirs and took in the brown robes students wore and remembered the Lady Mivar’s casual mention of a ‘Gavin’ and how much stronger he was than her.
“It seems I was right, after all,” Q’Orval said.
“What do you mean?” Kiri asked.
“When I decided those four are the most dangerous people in the courtyard.”
Roth approached Kiri’s right shoulder at that point and nodded, saying, “If they’re even a tenth as dangerous as Gavin, don’t ever give them reason to prove it.”
“Yes, well,” Q’Orval said, swallowing hard, “let’s get you settled and take Her Highness to the Royal Apartments.”
The private study of Terris Muran, King of Vushaar, came close to being the size of a suite. Unlike a suite, it was all one room, and with the exception of large windows looking out over the city, every wall sported a tall bookcase. Every shelf of every bookcase was full, and some were full almost to overflowing.
Terris Muran sat in his favorite armchair, reading a treatise on siege warfare that was penned by one of the finest generals Vushaar had ever produced. As interested as he was in the work, though, the sound of Q’Orval clearing his throat immediately drew his attention.
“What was the alarm about, Q’Orval?” Terris asked as he marked his place in the book and set it aside. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen the Cavaliers in such an uproar. They hustled me out of the throne room like there was a fire next door.”
“We had an unannounced arrival in the courtyard, Your Majesty,” Q’Orval said. “I’m afraid it required my intervention to establish our new guests’ welcome. Well, sire, they weren’t all guests, in all truth.”
“‘Your Majesty,’ Q’Orval…really? You haven’t addressed me as Your Majesty when we’re alone since I first ascended the throne,” Terris said, pushing himself to his feet.
“Yes, well…we’re not alone, Your Majesty,” Q’Orval said, and Terris thought he detected a slight strain of amusement in his old friend’s tone.
“Not alone? Why didn’t you say-” Terris’s voice stopped when he spun to offer proper courtesy to whomever was with Q’Orval. He was in the midst of giving himself a thorough dressing down for the breach of hospitality when his eyes locked on the person standing beside Q’Orval.
“Kiri?” Terris asked, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “But, you’re…I mean…we all thought…”
Kiri almost sprinted the short distance to her father and threw her arms around him, pulling him into the tightest embrace she could ever remember giving anyone as she spoke in a soft voice, “I’m home, Father. I missed you so much!”
Terris couldn’t stop the tears rolling down his face, tears he’d never allowed himself to shed when he thought he’d lost his daughter at sea. “But…how? Everyone said the Sprite sank.”
“It did, Father,” Kiri said, her voice muffled just a bit by Terris’s tunic. “I washed ashore on a piece of driftwood. I don’t know how I survived.”
“Well, I’ll spend some extra time offering thanks to Marin, for seeing you safely ashore.” Terris clutched his daughter in his arms, and his tears began to wet her hair as he rested his cheek on her head. “It took you two years to make it home? Couldn’t you have gotten us word somehow?”
“I’m sorry, Father. I wasn’t…I…when I washed ashore, there were people on the beach, Father. They were slavers, and they didn’t rescue me.”
“What?” Terris gasped, shifting his hands to Kiri’s shoulders and pushing her out to arms’ length to get a better look at her. Tears streamed down her face, same as his. The traveling clothes she wore were well made, but the fabric stopped just a slight distance from the left side of her neck and curled down below her collarbone to circle her torso without covering her left arm or shoulder. She was completely decent; not even the most rigid prude could say otherwise, but her left shoulder and arm were bare, displaying the slave mark for all to see.
Kiri bowed her head, and Terris saw her jaw trembling. “I’m sorry, Father. I…I couldn’t stop them!”
Terris pulled his daughter back into his arms and held her tight. “What? You think I don’t want you, now that you’re a slave? Do you honestly think anyone will ever call you ‘slave’ where I can hear of it? You’re my daughter, Kiri. As long as you’re alive and healthy, everything else is dross.”
Kiri giggled as Terris felt the tension leave her. “You might have some competition when it comes to chastising anyone who calls me a slave, Father.”
“Oh, how’s that?”
“Well, the man who technically owns me—according to the Slavers’ Association—is rather determined that I be free, and…well…people step around him for very good reasons.”
“Has he-”
“Oh, no, Father! He’s never laid a hand on me. Why, when we first met, he even refused to sleep in the same bed as me…even though it was the only bed we had. He made a mattress out of blankets on the floor.”
“I think I’ll have to meet this man. Just who is he? And is he part of those unannounced guests Q’Orval mentioned?”
“He’s why you have those unannounced guests, Father. We were at a slaver base several leagues southeast of here, with an army on the way from Ivarson to conscript the slaves they’d gathered so far. He used my memories of the courtyard to teleport us there before the outriders could arrive and overwhelm us.”
“I’ve never heard of a mage with that kind of power,” Terris said. “Why, I’ve never even heard of the Teleport spell being used that way.”
“He’s not a mage, Father. His name is Gavin Cross, and he’s Head of House Kirloth. T
eleporting us here on top of everything he did at the slaver camp took everything he had. He collapsed as soon as I told him I was home and safe.”
Terris pushed Kiri back just enough to see her eyes, saying, “And if you hadn’t been safe?”
“He probably would’ve killed himself ensuring that I was, and I’d be afraid to find out what all he’d take with him.”
“As soon as he’s ready, I certainly want to meet him, but that’s for later. Come over here, and sit with me.”
Terris pulled Kiri—who didn’t require much pulling—over to the sofa in front of the east-facing window. He sat and, once Kiri sat at his side, put his arm around her as she rested her head on his shoulder.
“Now, I want to hear everything that’s happened with you these last three years.”
Chapter 21
Birds were chirping somewhere close. That was the first thing Gavin’s mind processed as he returned to consciousness. The headache resonating throughout his skull like the peal of a blacksmith’s hammer upon an anvil followed a close second.
“I really have to quit waking up in beds with headaches,” Gavin said, more of a groaning whisper than any kind of well-formed speech.
“At least you’re waking up at all,” a deep baritone said from somewhere off to his right. “How do you feel otherwise?”
It took all Gavin’s strength and will to lift his arms enough to put his hands on his head a few moments. “Far too weak, but nothing else seems apparent right now.”
Gavin blinked open his eyes and found himself in a room with banks of windows in two adjoining walls. Those windows were open, and a blue bird chirped on a tree branch right outside the window directly in front of Gavin. The room itself was elegant with tasteful furnishings in an emerald color scheme. A cedar armoire stood against the wall off Gavin’s right shoulder, and a dresser with a mirror, wash basin, and water pitcher stood beside the armoire. The room’s door was to his left. A chair sat at the right side of the bed, and the seat’s cushion showed it had seen extensive recent use.
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