Her Knight's Quest: A Warriors of the Mist Novel (12 page)

Chapter 13

L
avinia stood back and watched the flow of expressions across Duncan’s handsome face: wonder, excitement, and something akin to awe. He wandered from one shelf in the library to the next, his fingers trailing over the old leather and parchment with total reverence.

She knew exactly what he was feeling. She’d experienced the same overwhelming excitement the first time she’d walked into the abbey’s library. She’d been but a child, but the love of learning knew no age limits. A dozen lifetimes wouldn’t be long enough to absorb all the knowledge contained within its walls, but she’d love the freedom to try.

They both had work to do, but nothing would be accomplished until Duncan finished his explorations. She knew better than to get between a scholar and his books. Far better to let him wander at will until that first burst of excitement had time to run its course.

But then he turned abruptly and headed in the wrong direction. She moved to intercept him, but he stopped on his own. After a quick glance back at her, he frowned and held his hand out at arm’s length. He moved his palm in a horizontal line as if tracing a solid wall rather than a powerful, but invisible ward against intruders.

He backed away but still stared at what he shouldn’t have been able to see. “Is this the same thing you created with the circles in the workroom? What would happen if I charged right into it?”

How much to tell him? Some secrets were meant to be kept even from people close to her. But then she thought about how he’d quietly removed the blackened plants so that she wouldn’t have to see them again. His thoughtfulness had touched her deeply. Perhaps it was time she trusted someone, because she couldn’t do this all on her own anymore.

Not after Keirthan had managed to attack her within the abbey walls. Once he traced the destruction of his blood magic coins, he’d try it again. If he couldn’t control her, he’d kill her. It was that simple.

Lavinia joined Duncan. “No, they’re not the same, although the spells are similar in construct and intent. The ones I invoked this morning are meant to keep the magic confined inside them.”

She infused a little more power into the spell so that it flared brightly. “This one is an avoidance ward. The way it’s supposed to work is by making anyone who approaches simply turn back. Most people never realize it’s even there. They just lose interest in whatever they wanted to look at in that part of the library.”

“But I can see it.”

It was difficult to tell from his inflection whether he was stating a fact or asking a question. She did the same thing in reply.

“Only someone with a strong affinity for magic would be able to do that.”

Duncan turned his back on the ward, the pale silver of his eyes glittering with anger. “I have no affinity for magic.”

Could he really not know? “I meant no offense. Perhaps you are an exception, but I know of no other reason that you would’ve sensed the spell.”

He let out his breath in a frustrated puff. “No offense taken. Over my lifetime I have learned to mistrust magic in any form. I obey the Lord and Lady of the River, and they have no tolerance for their followers practicing the dark arts.”

She wanted to argue more, to point out the steady hum of magic she felt whenever she was close to him and that not all magic was dark in nature. For now, however, she needed his cooperation more than she needed his temper.

“Again, I apologize, Duncan. I’m not sure why you are sensitive to the wards.”

It was time to take charge. “Let’s be seated over there.”

She pointed toward a large table a safe distance from where they now stood. Until she better understood Duncan’s true purpose in coming to the abbey, she didn’t want him anywhere near the books and grimoires protected by the barrier.

He paused to study the ward and the books on the far side before following her over to the table. His expression said he knew exactly what he was looking at and that she was deliberately keeping him from exploring them. She sat down in the chair with her back to the wall and motioned him toward the chair on the opposite side.

She’d ordered a pot of tea and some of Sister Margaret’s pastries to be delivered to the library for the two of them to share. Hopefully, a civilized discussion over tea and sweets would garner her more information than an inquisition.

Duncan accepted the offer of tea and stirred in a large dollop of honey. He wrapped his hands around the mug and breathed deeply of the steam. She was about to ask her first question when he started talking.

Rather than meet her gaze, he continued to stare down into his tea. “I was sent here by Captain Gideon, my liege, because we need answers, and the abbey is reputed to have a collection of . . .”

His voice trailed off as his attention once again strayed in the direction of the warded section of the library. “Shall we say, rare resources?”

She sipped her tea. “Not that I am admitting that any such books exist, but I find I am most curious. Why would two warriors need to study such books, especially when you say the gods you serve forbid the use of magic?”

Now she had his full attention. Whether that was a good thing or not, she’d yet to decide.

“Let us not play games, Lady Lavinia. We share a common enemy, one who grows more powerful every day. I may not like magic, but I cannot fight against something I don’t understand. The Lady of the River has decreed that Captain Gideon and the men who fight at his side must protect Lady Merewen and her people in Agathia from attack at all costs. We have already accomplished part of that goal by wresting control of her family lands from her uncle, Lord Fagan.”

Lavinia fought down a wave of revulsion. “I met Lord Fagan once and pity anyone who was at his mercy. The man attempts to hide his cruelty beneath a thin coat of charm, but his true nature shows in his eyes and his smile.”

At the moment, Duncan’s own smile was anything but charming. “Be assured the man will no longer be a threat to anyone, especially his niece.”

So Fagan was dead. Keirthan would not be pleased. “I’m surprised that the duke did not come to Fagan’s assistance.”

Another one of those smiles, his eyes focused inward. Whatever images Duncan’s mind held were not pleasant ones. “He did, in fact. Their efforts to regain control of the keep and its lands were not successful.”

All right, then. She’d been right all along about Duncan’s prowess with a sword. His friends must be equally fearsome in battle. “So if Lady Merewen is safe from her uncle now, I repeat my question. Why would you and your liege have need of the forbidden resources you refer to?”

Duncan began pacing in the confined space surrounding the table. “Because from the first day that we were charged to protect Lady Merewen, we’ve known that Lord Fagan was but a symptom of the disease infecting this land. We suspect that Duke Keirthan himself is the source of the contagion. We also believe that his twisted magic is behind the unexplained disappearances of people, not to mention recent attacks on animals.”

He did an abrupt turn to stare down at her. “We are right about that, aren’t we? You know for certain that Keirthan is responsible.”

There was no use in lying now, especially to a possible ally. She jerked her head in a quick nod. “He is.”

“Do you understand the nature of the evil he is unleashing?”

“Not completely.”

How much should she tell him? Nothing? Everything? She had no desire to oppose Keirthan alone, especially if he was now strong enough to corrupt even her ability to scry. At this rate, his magic would soon grow beyond her ability to counter it at all.

Duncan splayed his hands on the table and leaned across its expanse to glare down at her. “I have no time for guessing games, Lavinia. With every minute we delay, more people suffer and die at the hands of that bastard.”

Her own temper rose up to meet Duncan’s, her hands slapping down on the smooth surface of the table in counterpoint to his. “Then sit down and listen. I am no servant wench to be bullied by the likes of you.”

The brief flare of anger burned itself out. “Please, Duncan.”

He straightened up, his own expression softening. “My apologies, my lady. You are not the proper target for my frustrations.”

Then his mouth softened into a small smile. “Indeed, I cannot ever remember kissing an enemy or even wanting to.”

The air around them crackled with a new energy, a vibration that had nothing to do with the protective wards. After living so long with worry and fear, it was tempting to circle around to the other side of the table and lose herself in Duncan’s strong arms.

But then the moment passed. He winked at her and dropped back down in his chair. She should be relieved. Her life was complicated enough without indulging herself in a bit of lust, which was all it could be. Instead, she was disappointed, almost bereft.

“Back to the matter at hand, then. You and your captain are right. The newest Duke of Agathia is behind the darkness you sense and the attacks on the people of that area.”

Duncan looked confused. “The newest? Has he not held that throne for long?”

“No, Ifre Keirthan assumed the title after Armel, his elder brother, died.”

Duncan sat slouched in his chair, but not for an instant did she think he was taking anything she said lightly. “Was the previous duke anything like this one?”

“Not at all. Like his father before him, Armel Keirthan was a strong ruler, one capable of protecting his land and people from attack. He was known to be both wise and fair. His only weakness was trusting those close to him, and so he did not recognize the viper within his own court.”

She truly did not want to continue. It hurt too much, but she would see it through to the finish.

“Armel was magically gifted far beyond his brother, Ifre. In truth, he had more inborn talent than anyone in his family for several generations running. But Armel was cautious with its use, saying that the stronger the magic, the harder it was to control. Far too often it would turn on the mage and control him.”

“What happened?”

“His younger brother had no such caution when it came to magic, especially because his was the weaker gift. Ifre grew jealous of Armel. Power was his goddess, and he could not understand why his brother did not worship her as he did.

“In the end, Armel died in what was reported to be an accident. His son caused the death, and it is said that it destroyed his mind. Ifre assumed the throne that same day. He went through the motions of a state funeral for Armel, but there was no real grief in him. Outsiders might have been fooled, but those who knew him well were convinced otherwise.”

“You knew him well, then, this Ifre. I would guess that means you lived at court.”

She’d revealed more than she’d meant to, but she couldn’t find it in herself to regret telling him the truth. Besides, if they were to work together efficiently, it would be best if she didn’t have to guard every word she spoke.

“At one time, I knew both Armel and Ifre well, although I left life in the court when I was still quite young. When I was summoned to return for the state funeral, I knew something was amiss. Ifre was entirely too smug when he thought no one was looking, and he was careful to ensure that no one was allowed to speak with Armel’s son or even see him.”

“Did you know the son well?”

“We played together as children, but I have not seen him since I was first sent away to be educated and trained.”

Duncan refilled her tea and then his. “Did you miss your brothers while you were gone?”

She should’ve known Duncan was smart enough to fill in the gaps in her story. “They were my half brothers. But, yes, I did. I still do.”

The past whirled through her mind, reminding her of the good times that were now but dim memories. Lavinia nodded at Duncan’s questioning look, and continued on, although this part of the story was hard for her. “Their mother was the duchess and married to my father, Cambrell. My mother held his heart but not his name. My half brothers were more than a decade my seniors.”

Duncan didn’t press for more answers, but she offered them anyway. “As long as my father was the duke, no one could force him to send my mother away. Theirs was a love match, and his wife tolerated his mistress’s presence only because he would have it no other way.”

For a moment, she was caught up in the past, remembering the precious moments that her father set aside from his duties as duke to spend with her and her mother. Those had been far better days than what came afterward.

“Shortly after my father died, Armel gave in to his mother’s demands that both my mother and I be sent away. I think he would’ve allowed me to stay, but my mother was nothing but an embarrassment to the royal family.”

“Where is your mother now?”

“She died within months of my father. His death broke her heart, and she wasn’t strong enough to stand up to those who shunned us. That was when I was sent here to study. The sisters have been good to me.”

“You’ve spent much of your life here, then?”

“No, I’ve only recently returned to this abbey. I have spent time in several others to continue my education.”

She braced herself. Duncan had made his low opinion of magic and its practitioners all too clear. He already knew that she had some ability with it. How could he not? He’d witnessed firsthand her ability to scry and to work with wards. Both those were considered lesser gifts. She’d often wished that was as far as her abilities had developed.