Her Knight's Quest: A Warriors of the Mist Novel (14 page)

Finally, a pleasant fog nibbled at the jagged edges of his pain, diminishing its strength enough so that sleep could overtake him. As he eased into a deep slumber, he hoped he would dream of dragging his traitorous half sibling back to the capital city in chains.

Picturing Lavinia broken and bloody left him smiling. As he continued to float betwixt sleep and wakefulness, he thought about her image. Any details he could recall might help track her down. He’d only caught the briefest glimpse of her before he’d been slammed back against the wall by the power she’d unleashed.

Her hair was the same. That sharp gaze of hers still reflected her powerful intelligence. He’d sensed there was someone else with her. He hadn’t seen enough to know if her companion had been male or female, so that bit of information was no help.

There’d been something about Lavinia’s clothing. Something different. Thanks to the powerful potion and the lingering pain, he couldn’t bring the image into focus. Tomorrow, though, he’d figure it out. Once he did, he’d set about making his dreams about Lavinia in chains come true. She would pay for defying his command.

Chapter 15

“N
o, the ‘g’ makes a softer sound.”

Lavinia tried again, most of her attempts to copy Duncan’s pronunciation meeting with only limited success. At least he was patient with her, praising her successes without laughing at her failures.

“Nageth.”

When he nodded, she repeated the word twice more to lock it in her memory.

Duncan pointed toward the next page. “Now read the next passage all the way through, and then translate it for me.”

She faltered over fewer words this time. When she reached the end, she picked up her pen and began the laborious process of changing the old tongue into the modern one. She envied the ease with which Duncan read the ancient languages. So far she’d listened to him read from texts written in four different languages, and suspected he was fluent in several others.

Had she been a jealous person, she might have hated him for it. Instead, she found the combination of his scholarly and warrior natures compelling. Her elder brother had also had a scholarly bent, but Armel had never been the kind to pick up a sword and lead his men into battle himself. Ifre was a coward who killed from a distance.

She suspected Duncan would’ve been content to spend his life lost in his studies, but his duty came first. His inborn sense of honor demanded that he stand strong for those who could not defend themselves.

He glanced up and caught her staring. “Did you need help with a word?”

Her cheeks flushed hot as she pushed the parchment toward him. “No, I’m finished.”

He held the paper up to the light, his pale eyes skimming the page in quick order. She walked over to the closest shelves and studied the titles while she waited.

The scrape of his chair warned her that Duncan had finished reading. He joined her at the bookshelf, his expression still somber as he handed the paper back to her. She braced herself to receive his verdict.

Then he grinned at her. “I couldn’t have done better myself. You got all the tenses right and even caught the subtle nuances of the idiom the author used in the second paragraph.”

“Truly?”

“Truly. You obviously have a gift for languages.”

His approval warmed her straight through. She’d met few men in her life who appreciated women who were their equal or superior in education. Even most of the other sisters protected the library out of duty, not out of love for the knowledge contained within its walls.

This connection with Duncan was special, a gift to cherish. She smiled back at him, two scholars enjoying the moment.

“You remind me so much of my mother.”

All right, that wasn’t quite the connection she was feeling. The woman had obviously meant a lot to Duncan, but rather than feeling complimented by the comparison, Lavinia felt mildly insulted. “Your mother?”

His smile softened and his striking eyes twinkled. “You’re the first person I’ve met since her death who understands the simple pleasure to be had in acquiring knowledge for its own sake.”

Then the focus of his eyes dropped down to her mouth and back up again. “But to make myself clear, what I feel for you is something entirely different.”

“And what do you feel for me?”

“Something I shouldn’t.” He leaned closer. “This.”

His mouth settled over hers, a soft brush of lips and then another. In no mood to be teased, she dropped the paper and captured his face with both hands. He immediately deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping across hers, hot and demanding.

This time neither of them held back. Now that she had Duncan’s full attention, she pressed against the hard planes of his chest and dug her fingertips into his shoulders. He responded by wrapping one arm around her waist while he spread his other hand on the curve of her hips, lifting her up to her tiptoes.

Her conscience told her they should stop, that this behavior was out of bounds for an abbess, even one who hadn’t sworn to give her life over to the service of the gods. But right at that moment, she wanted nothing else as much as she wanted to savor this small bit of pleasure.

They both knew their mutual attraction was a momentary thing, two like-minded souls reaching out to each other. It was about proximity, not permanency. And wasn’t that a sad, sad thought?

“Ahem.”

Lavinia wanted to curse. As tempting as it was to try to ignore Sister Joetta, duty came before pleasure. Duncan knew it, too. He immediately backed away, but there was no mistaking the regret in his expression. That gave her the courage to face her friend.

“Yes, Sister Joetta?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt your, um”—she paused to look from Lavinia toward Duncan and back—“studies. However, there are armed riders approaching from the direction of Trader Musar’s winter quarters.”

“Thank you, Joetta. Sir Duncan and I will join you shortly.”

She returned to the table where they’d been working and gathered up the books they’d used. “We should return these to the shelves first.”

Joetta nodded and withdrew. Duncan hung back, giving Lavinia some much-needed time to gather her scattered thoughts.

The abbey had always welcomed visitors of all kinds with open doors, offering hearty food and clean beds to anyone who journeyed through the valley below. Lavinia hated changing that policy, but right now she had no other choice.

If Lavinia were an ordinary sister, she wouldn’t have considered changing the open-door rules. But in her case, her brother Ifre hunted her for far more sinister reasons. He either wanted her magical gifts to feed his need for power, or he wanted her dead. There would be no compromise, no love lost between the two siblings.

The blood magic coins had been only the beginning. Ifre wouldn’t stop. The memory of him staring up at her through her own scrying bowl still gave her a deep sense of terror when she thought about it.

Duncan’s hands slipped around her waist again, this time holding her gently within the safe harbor of his arms. “I’ll make sure the guards are well trained, Lavinia. If they are as good as Musar promised, they’ll be able to defend the abbey against attack, even from a much larger force.”

“I don’t want anyone to die defending us.”

“It may not come to that, not if our search provides the answers we’re looking for. We’ve already made good progress today. Once I get the men settled in their quarters, I’ll continue the search later this evening.”

She rested her head against his shoulder. “What will you do when you find the answers?”

What a foolish question, when she already knew his response. He’d leave.

“My friends and I will use the information to put a stop to Duke Keirthan’s evil.”

“And if you can’t stop him?”

He didn’t answer at first. Finally, he said, “The Damned have never failed to protect those we’ve been sent to champion, Lavinia.”

She tried to take comfort in that, but had they ever faced someone like her brother?

“Shall we go meet the guards?”

Duncan pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. “Yes, before it gets any later. They’ll be tired from riding all day, but I want to evaluate their skills as soon as possible.”

“We need to restore the wards before we go. Do you want to try?”

A new layer of tension rippled through Duncan before he released her. He stepped away and faced the back corner of the room. Bringing up his hands, palms out, he repeated the words she’d drilled him on earlier. As he spoke them, the words seemed to hang in the air, shimmering with power.

Then the wards snapped back into place with a loud crackle. They wavered a bit and then settled down. Duncan stared at the display of power with something akin to horror in his expression.

“Well done.”

He glanced down at her, his mouth set in a grim frown. “I was truly hoping that it wouldn’t work. I’m not sure how the Lady of the River will feel about one of her warriors learning to invoke magic.”

“What will happen if she disapproves?”

He shrugged. “It is impossible to know. Each time we return to the water’s edge, we face her judgment not as individuals but as a group. What one does affects us all.”

“That hardly seems fair.”

His laugh was bitter. “The gods don’t concern themselves with being fair. We made a bargain with the Lady, my friends and I, and we will honor that agreement.”

“And if she doesn’t approve of your efforts?”

“Let’s worry about today’s problems,” Duncan said as he started toward the door.

Even though Duncan avoided responding to her question directly, she could guess at the answer. He and his friends weren’t called the Damned for no reason. If they failed to meet the goddess’s expectations, they would pay dearly for that failure.

It wasn’t fair. Yet as Duncan said, the gods didn’t worry about such things. As she followed Duncan out the door, she prayed this time would be different for him.

*  *  *

Duncan studied the twelve men lined up in front of him. They varied in size, coloring, and manner of dress but were identical in the ways that really mattered. When he’d asked them to lay out all of their weapons for inspection, the results had been impressive in both quantity and quality.

How many of them had known Rubar or the other guard? He didn’t bother to ask, figuring Musar would’ve explained the situation to them. If they’d had a problem with Duncan, they could’ve turned down the job. Or else, one or more could be waiting for an opportune moment to seek revenge. Not being a mind reader, all he could do was proceed as if he trusted them and keep a wary eye out for an ambush.

He stepped back from the table. “Pick up your weapons, and then partner up for some sword practice.”

As he waited, he overheard one of the men grumble about having been in the saddle all day. Duncan had been expecting to hear something of the kind. In fact, he’d been hoping for it.

He scanned the group, acting as if he didn’t know who was responsible for the complaint.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize in this part of the world that bandits only attack caravans when they know the guards are rested and at their sharpest.”

Josup, who appeared to be the unofficial leader of the group, shot one of his companions a disgusted look. “The only well-rested guards I know are either out of work or dead.”

He turned his attention back to Duncan. “You be wanting to see if we can earn our keep protecting the sisters. I might be wondering the same thing about you.”

Duncan grinned at him and drew his own sword. “Fair enough. Shall we?”

The two faced off while the others stood back to watch from a safe distance. It didn’t take long for everyone to know that Duncan was the better swordsman, but only just. Josup had nothing to be embarrassed about. Against most anyone else, he would’ve had little trouble either disarming or dismembering his opponent.

Duncan sheathed his sword and held out his hand to his opponent. Josup grinned as he clasped Duncan’s hand in a firm grip. “It’s been a while since I’ve faced someone of your talent, Sir Duncan. I wouldn’t want to face you in a battle for real.”

“I’ll take that for the compliment it is and say the same about you.” He turned back to the others. “Well, the two of us know what we can do. Let’s see how the rest of you measure up.”

This time there was no hesitation or grumbling. Josup joined in to keep the numbers even while Duncan circled around, making suggestions as he did. Overall, he was impressed. Musar had chosen well. Granted, these men were used to fighting from horseback while guarding the caravans, but their footwork was far from shoddy.

He didn’t know about them, but he’d had enough for one evening. After all, he still had hours of work ahead of him in the library.

“Halt!”

The men formed up in front of him, breathing hard but still at attention. “We need to stand guard over the abbey. Four six-hour shifts of three men each. You can partner up as you see fit. If no one volunteers to take the first shift, we can draw straws or throw dice.”

It didn’t surprise him that Josup already had his two partners picked out. “We’ll take the first shift.”

“Good. I’ll ask Sister Margaret to send out food and drink for you. The rest of you eat and then get some rest. You’re going to need it. I’ll be working with each group of you for an hour before you go on duty. Any questions?”

Several of the men looked to Josup and then down to the ground. He gave them all a disgusted look as he stepped forward. “Trader Musar told us about what happened with Rubar and Teo. He said that you killed both men in defense of Lady Lavinia.”

“That’s true. I did.”

Josup looked a bit surprised. Did he think that Duncan would’ve lied about it? Or that he’d offer excuses? His honor would’ve demanded he speak the truth even if there hadn’t been an entire room full of witnesses to the fight.

Duncan stood tall and met Josup’s hard expression directly. “I didn’t know Teo, but Rubar was a good man, one who was kind to me. I regret his death more than you can imagine, but know that I had no choice.”

Another of the men spoke up. “Musar said that as well. If he hadn’t vouched for you, we wouldn’t be here.”