Fire of the Soul (8 page)

“Has my grandmother gone mad?” he
demanded.

“She’s not mad, merely determined. She has
made up her mind and there’s an end to all discussion.” Calia
sipped at the wine, wishing it would soothe her own seething
emotions and knowing it would not. “Don’t try to stop her, Garit.
Were you to lock her in her room, or even into the storage cellar,
she’d find a way to escape and proceed with her plan. There are
folk here at Saumar who love her enough to follow any order she
gives.”

“I know it. I’m one of those folk, and I
believe you are, too. Still, I worry about her.” Garit had been
pacing toward the far end of the hall as he spoke. Now he halted,
spun around, and started back toward Calia. “Why this sudden
decision to return to a place she despises?”

“Because you are here to escort her,” Calia
said, “and because you brought the news of your stepmother’s
remarriage. That disturbed her, I think. Lady Elgida is truly
worried about those two boys.”

“She’s never met them, or their mother,
either. Why should she suddenly care so much?” he asked, glaring at
her.

Calia took some time to think of a reason he
would accept, sipping her wine and trying to look as if she was
considering all aspects of his question before responding to it.
She hated having to lie to Garit, but Lady Elgida had twice
forbidden her to tell him the true answer to his question. So she
talked around the issue of Mallory and his ambitions, while still
providing as much warning as she dared.

“Perhaps,” she said, “your grandmother’s
reasoning has to do with her firm belief that everyone who lives in
Kantia is treacherous. I have listened to her stories about the
intrigues of Kantian noblemen, and some of those tales chilled my
blood. She may genuinely fear that your little brothers will be
killed by an overly ambitious guardian, or by some other noble,
possibly a distant relative who imagines he would have a claim to
Kinath if only Belai and Kinen were out of the way.”

“So she intends to ride to the rescue like a
knight errant?” he said, looking faintly amused and no longer very
angry. “At her age?”

“She is a gallant lady.”

“So she is. She is also the most stubborn
person I have ever known. I foolishly thought she’d have mellowed
with time, but she hasn’t changed since I was a boy of seven and
she suddenly decided to leave Kinath and return to Saumar.” Garit
drew a long breath. “Well, I suppose there’s naught left for me to
do but ride to Port Moren and find a ship. If I don’t do her
bidding, she’ll find someone else who will, and who knows what
accommodations you ladies will have to endure then?”

“A lame horse on a muddy road?” Calia
suggested, giving in to her longing to see him smile.

“More likely, a leaky tub of a ship in a high
sea,” he said, his hard face relaxing just a little. “We
will
travel all the way to Kinath by ship, because that is
what she has decided.”

“Even if we are all seasick?” Calia asked,
still hoping for his smile.

“My grandmother’s strong-mindedness led her
into trouble several times when she was young,” Garit said. “The
men around her called it foolish willfulness. I do believe that’s
why she dislikes Kantia so much, and why the Kantians were so glad
to see her leave.”

“But not your father, surely?” Calia said,
startled by this information.

“Especially my father. As you might expect,
she found giving up her power as lady of Kinath a difficult task
after my grandfather died and my father became lord. So she
retreated here to Saumar, where she will always be in charge, until
the day she dies. I don’t want that day to arrive too soon.” He
took Calia’s hand, holding it close to his chest. “Therefore, I
propose to make a pact with you.”

“With me?” she whispered. Though she knew she
ought not to allow herself to feel any tender emotion toward him,
still she was unable to prevent her fingers from curling around his
large hand. She noticed the strength in his hard palm and blunt
fingers, felt the calluses borne by all fighting men who used
broadsword and Sapaudian lance and, sometimes, bows and arrows,
too, used them every single day, in practice if not in actual
warfare.

“Our pact,” Garit said, looking into her
eyes, “will be an agreement to protect Lady Elgida from any dangers
engendered by her own strong will and from the ill intentions of
others, until she comes home safe to Saumar once again.”

“I can agree to those terms with no
reservations at all,” Calia said. “But, tell me, do you really
believe she’ll be in danger in Kantia?” She hadn’t thought much of
that possibility. She’d been too worried about Garit’s inevitable
confrontation with Mallory, and about Mallory devising some clever
scheme to harm Garit.

“If she begins to scold King Dyfrig about the
arrangements he’s made for Belai and Kinen, or if she insists that
I am the rightful lord of Kinath, or tries to have Sir Mallory
removed as guardian of my little brothers, she is sure to anger
someone,” he said.

“I have a dreadful feeling that you are right
to be concerned,” Calia agreed. “Oh, dear; I should have thought of
this the moment she began to talk about traveling to Kantia.”

“There’s nothing either of us could have done
to stop her,” Garit’s mouth quirked up into a half smile that held
no real humor. “Now, all we can do is try to protect her. I think
we should formally seal our pact, here and now.”

“I will consider our agreement in effect as
of this moment,” Calia said, meeting his level gaze. She felt his
fingers tighten over hers. She did not expect him to bend his head
and kiss her, though she knew full well that agreements were often
sealed that way, even when a scribe, parchment, and sealing wax
were readily available. It was, after all, the way treaties and
marriage contracts were sealed.

Garit’s mouth was warm as it brushed over her
slightly parted lips. He drew back quickly, looking startled. Then,
very deliberately, he kissed her a second time, more firmly, with
just a tinge of some other, incredibly sweet emotion in the
caress.

That second kiss left Calia trembling. And
wanting more. Oh, most definitely, yearning for Garit’s tender
embrace and for more kisses from his beautifully chiseled mouth.
And knowing, to her heart’s destruction, that she could not ever be
his, or allow him to care for her.

“We are in agreement, then,” he whispered.
“Say yes, Calia.” His breath was warm on her cheek.

“Yes.”
Yes
to every sacrifice this man
might ask of her. But
no
to true affection.
No
to the
ache that weakened her limbs and made her want his arms around her.
She drew a shaky breath. He’d hate her soon enough, when he knew
who she really was.

The instant he released her hand she turned
and fled from him. Somehow, she managed not to let the tears fall
until after she had reached her room and shut the door.

The Moren River rose high in the Moren
Mountains and gushed northward over rocks and through waterfalls
and rapids until it emptied into the Sea of Lestrac. Together, the
turbulent river and the north-south sweep of mountains formed the
boundary between Morenia and Sapaudia. Citizens of both countries
claimed the long, nearly impenetrable boundary was the chief reason
why the two lands had lived in peace for several centuries. Seldom
was the other reason mentioned: a mutual fear of the Dominion and
the ever-growing strength of its rulers, fear that had forged a
firm union between successive rulers of the two countries.

At the mouth of the river, where flatter land
allowed a slower current and ships could be safely moored, lay Port
Moren. A long-ago treaty between Morenia and Sapaudia had
established Port Moren as a location for unimpeded trade,
administered by both countries and guarded by specially trained
men-at-arms. Since most other settlements near the Sea of Lestrac
were subject to raiding and plundering from the wild, seafaring
tribes of Mataram, Port Moren quickly became known as a safe place
to do business. The small town grew into a city that spread out on
both banks of the river, its wharves and warehouses busy day and
night.

Merchants, traders, a few smugglers, and more
than a few spies all operated within its precincts. So long as the
ever-changing populace kept the peace all were welcome, even folk
from the Dominion or from Chandelar. As a result, Port Moren was a
vital spot where the most secret information could be procured and
where almost anything could be purchased.

Garit reached the city in late afternoon. He
had come with only Anders and two men-at-arms. After sending Anders
to arrange rooms for them at an inn that he’d frequented during the
days when he passed through the port on trips from Kantia to the
royal Sapaudian court at Calean City, Garit took himself to the
docks in search of the reliable ship his grandmother demanded.

Captain Pyrsig was easy enough to locate.
The Kantian Queen
was berthed at a wharf not far from the
high stone breakwater that protected the harbor from the sea.
Pyrsig was a short, barrel-chested man with a bristling red beard
and a head of curly red hair. A missing front tooth and a gold ring
in one ear lent him a piratical air, though Garit knew him for an
honest man, an excellent sailor, and dependable in a fight.
Futhermore, Pyrsig kept his large ship clean and in good repair.
For all of those reasons, Garit had made a point of sailing with
him when travelling between the Kantian capital of Kerun and his
diplomatic duties in Sapaudia.

“So, now,” Pyrsig hailed him as Garit walked
up the gangplank, “returnin’ to yer homeland, are ye? I’ve heard
yer no longer the emissary to King Henryk. I brought the new man
across durin’ my last sailin’ but one.”

“That’s true,” Garit responded, shaking the
captain’s rough hand. “This time I need space aboard for my
grandmother, who is determined to visit Kinath Castle, and equally
determined to sail directly there from Port Moren.”

“Ah, that’s good news.” Pyrsig nodded sagely.
“I feared ye’d be wantin’ to reclaim the castle for yer own. But
not if ye’ll be escortin’ an elderly lady. That’ll be a peaceful
visit.”

“She’s never met her younger grandsons,”
Garit explained. As soon as he’d agreed to make the trip he had
decided on the story he’d tell. He had other, secret, reasons for
traveling to Kantia, but he’d no intention of revealing those
reasons to his grandmother, or to Captain Pyrsig.

“As it happens,” Pyrsig said, “I’ve already
taken on a passenger for the next voyage. ‘Tis a fellow who’s
sailed on
The Kantian Queen
several times. His sister is wed
to one of King Dyfrig’s nobles and he stops at the royal court to
see her. Perhaps ye know him? Lord Durand of Granvey, his name
is.”

“We’ve met, though I can’t claim to know him
well,” Garit said. “Do you think he’ll mind the delay of putting in
at Kinath Castle before you reach Kerun?”

“He’s used to makin’ stops when he sails with
me,” Pyrsig said. “I heave to wherever passengers or a cargo need
to be unloaded. A day ashore at Kinath should make no difference to
him.”

“Good,” Garit said. “I’ll want a cabin large
enough for my grandmother, her companion, and a maid. Then, another
cabin for myself and my squire, and space for six men-at-arms. And
the horses, too, of course.”

“Ye’ll have to share yer cabin with Lord
Durand,” Pyrsig said, and named a price that Garit knew was high.
But he wasn’t inclined to argue. He’d expected to share the cabin.
He and Durand had counted on that.

“Done,” Garit said. “When do you plan to
sail?”

“In two days,” Pyrsig told him. “‘Tis a waste
of money to sit tied up here when I could be sailin’ and makin’ a
bit of gold. Where’s yer grandmam?”

“Still at Saumar Manor. I’ll send someone to
tell her to start out at once. She won’t object, and she’ll not
delay you. She’s eager to be on her way.”

His arrangements completed, Garit strolled
for a short distance along the waterfront, looking at the
established shops and the temporary booths, watching the men and
women who gathered eagerly around the goods being unloaded from
newly arrived ships. Commerce was brisk and the area was crowded,
so he needed a while to locate his fellow agent. Their gazes met.
That was signal enough.

Garit moved away from the waterfront, turning
onto a street that led to the center of the city. A lithe young
man, well dressed, with auburn hair that was neatly clubbed off his
face into a tight knot fell into step beside him.

“You are two days late,” the young man said
without looking directly at Garit or pausing to greet him. He moved
a pace or two ahead of Garit, still not looking at him, as if they
were strangers who just happened to be heading in the same
direction.

“My grandmother detained me.” Garit spoke
without seeming to take note of the young man. “But the delay was
worthwhile. She has provided a credible reason for me to return to
Kantia. I am conducting her to Kinath, and I’m sure I can find an
excuse later for us to continue on to Kerun.”

“Excellent. I assume you’ll be aboard
The
Kantian Queen
as we planned?”

“We will be. In fact, you and I are sharing a
cabin with Anders. Have you received any new information?”

“No, and that worries me. Rumors abound about
where the Emerald is and where it may be taken, but no one knows
for certain. All we can do is follow Serlion’s orders to visit
Kerun City and make contact there with Queen Laisren. I have no
idea what The Great Mage expects us to do after that. I confess, I
prefer to know more about any mission I undertake.”

“So do I,” Garit agreed. “Perhaps the queen
will have orders for us. Or perhaps your sister will have more
information. On a different subject, my stepmother has married one
of King Dyfrig’s nobles.”