Her Knight's Quest: A Warriors of the Mist Novel (18 page)

All of that poured out in one breath with Alina and Murdoch studiously avoiding even glancing at each other. Merewen gave her aunt a speculative look. Gideon wasn’t the only one wondering what else the two had been doing besides raiding Ellie’s larder.

Now wasn’t the time, though. He held up the paper to the light. As Murdoch began to feed bits of meat to Kiva, Gideon read the message aloud. He didn’t keep secrets from Merewen, and Lady Alina had a right to know what was going on as well. He read it through and then a second time to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. When he was done, he folded the paper up and returned it to the pouch.

He counted off the important points. “Duncan is at the abbey and has been given a temporary position there. He saved the abbess’s life from an attack caused by another bout of blood magic. She’s hired him as a guard rather than a scribe, but she’s allowing him to search the library for an explanation of the blood magic and how to counter it.”

He paused to review it all in his mind. “He’ll return when he has the answers. Did I miss anything?”

Merewen frowned. “He doesn’t say if the attack was aimed at the abbess specifically or if she happened to be in the way. Do you think it was something like what killed my horses?”

“It doesn’t sound like it. From what we saw when Scim was hurt, there was nothing anyone could’ve done to prevent it. If she hired Duncan as a guard, she must have thought a swordsman could keep her safe.”

Murdoch had finished feeding the owl. “I hate him being so far from us, especially alone. He has few equals with a blade, but there’s only so much one man can do.”

Gideon nodded. “Let us hope the goddess guides his quest for knowledge so he can return to us without delay.”

He glanced at the sky. “It grows light. Kane and Averel will be stirring soon. Murdoch, I know you’ll want to see them off. After they’re gone, seek out your bed for a few hours since you were on guard duty most of the night.”

This time there was no missing the way Murdoch’s eyes immediately sought out Alina or that she blushed before quickly looking away. Again Gideon said nothing. After all, the goddess had given Gideon permission to deepen his relationship with Merewen, telling him that his feelings for her strengthened his commitment to their mission.

He could only assume that Murdoch’s obviously strong feelings for Alina would have the same effect. Furthermore, he had the lingering fear that they were going to need all their strength to turn back the tide of darkness Duke Keirthan had unleashed upon this land.

Only yesterday afternoon they’d received reports of another deserted crofter’s cottage, but with the family’s personal belongings still scattered about the place. Several farmers had complained of finding a cow or a goat dead without a mark on them. How long would it be before the magic killed humans as easily as it did their livestock?

He turned back to Kiva, hoping to hide his worry and fear for the people of Agathia. He knew the taste of failure; after all, that was how he and the others had become Damned by their gods in the first place. He’d lived with that burden of guilt for centuries, and the people who had died on their watch had been little better than strangers to him.

How would he ever forgive himself if he couldn’t save Merewen and her people from Keirthan’s evil? That answer was actually simple: He never would.

Chapter 19

K
eirthan clutched the talisman that tied him magically to the captain of his guard, infusing it with more of his own magic. Another few drops of blood would seal the link between them. While out in the field, all of his men wore a similar device, each one keyed specifically to its bearer. Through the charms, he had total control over their will.

The talismans ensured the men would remain loyal when away from the capital and would obey any order given to them by Ifre or the captain of his guard. They were incapable of thinking for themselves beyond their basic bodily needs and the ability to fight.

Creating the talisman for his captain was more complicated. The man needed his ability to think for himself in order to command the others. That meant finding a delicate balance that satisfied Ifre’s need for control but left the man enough free will to provide effective leadership.

It really was a damned shame that Ifre’s prior captain, Terrick, had perished in the failed attempt to regain control of Lord Fagan’s keep. He’d had a powerful gift for magic, one that Ifre had kept in a weakened condition by siphoning it off through the connection of the talismans. Having to replace Terrick had been an irritation. Well-trained fighters with a hefty dose of magic in their blood were not easy to find.

This time he’d had to settle for one with no gift for magic but a good head for tactics and a decided lack of morals. As a result, Ifre had to constantly monitor the connection between them to avoid weakening the captain to the point he would be useless in battle.

Still, a man had to work with the tools he’d been given.

Now, if he could bring dear Lavinia back to the capital, he’d have a powerful source of magic to augment his own. It would be tricky, but the potential gains far outweighed the possible risks.

To that end, he finished reinforcing the last talisman with another quick burst of magic. He’d already ordered the captain to prepare to ride to the abbey. As far as the men knew, they were being sent to arrest a woman who was a threat to their leader. That much was true, even if she had yet to make any overt moves against his rule.

But she would. His every instinct told him that much. Lavinia had good reason to hate the rest of her family. They’d stripped her whore of a mother of all the wealth and influence their father had given the woman. Not that Ifre felt sorry for his own mother. Too weak to protect her station in life, she’d deserved to be usurped.

The men would depart by midday. No sooner than the thought crossed his mind, Lady Theda rapped on the door and opened it just far enough to make herself heard.

“The men are ready for your inspection.”

“I will be right there.”

Ifre straightened his robes and checked his appearance in the mirror. He looked regal. Handsome, even. His older brother had always been considered to be both better looking and smarter. And yet those two qualities hadn’t kept Armel alive.

In contrast, Ifre would soon control enough land that he could give himself a promotion. King Keirthan the First had quite a nice sound to it.

He picked up the basket of talismans already on their chains and carried them outside himself. The one time he’d had a servant carry the necklaces for him, the man’s mind had been little more than an empty shell by the time Ifre had finished inspecting the troops. Ifre could always find another servant, but explaining what had happened had been problematic.

Outside, lined up in neat rows, the troops waited for him. At Ifre’s appearance, their captain barked an order, bringing them all to attention.

Ifre called out, “I honor you and your service to the people of Agathia.”

Then, with appropriate solemnity, Ifre made his way down the line, bestowing a talisman on each man, which wouldn’t be at full power until after they left the city. It wouldn’t do for the nobles or other influential people to see the guards lose every bit of their free will. While they might not care about common soldiers, they were smart enough to realize that what Ifre could do to the guards, he could also do to them.

He saved the captain’s talisman for the last. Ifre had already given him the one he’d prepared specially for dear Lavinia. As he shook the man’s hand, applause rang out from the crowd that had gathered to watch the troop’s departure.

Ifre retreated to the highest step as the men mounted up. They moved out in formation, the horses’ hooves clattering on the stone road, and the pennant bearing the Duke of Agathia’s family sigil waving in the air.

All very dramatic. All very satisfying.

And when they succeeded in dragging Lavinia back to the capital, Ifre’s real play for power would begin.

*  *  *

Leaving his lover’s bed to return to his own was one of the hardest things Duncan had ever done. Lavinia’s quarters were warded against intrusion, but one of the sisters might come knocking at any time. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass her.

Right now, all they could wonder was why he hadn’t moved in with the rest of the guards. If anyone were to see him leaving her room in the early hours of the morning, it would remove all doubt about the new turn in their relationship.

He paused to stretch his muscles in the pale light of early dawn. The sun had barely crested the horizon, leaving the garden still heavily shadowed, the night not quite ready to relinquish its hold on the world. He breathed deeply and smiled. The air was sweetened by the fragrance of the pale moonflowers, their blossoms already closing with the first kiss of the morning light.

The flowers slowly folding in on themselves reminded him that time was quickly passing. The guards would be changing shifts soon, and he wanted to check in with the men before they sought out their own pallets. If there’d been any problems, they would’ve sent word, but he still liked to know if their patrol had passed quietly.

Before he reached the door of his room, he paused. Someone was spying on him. He sensed the irritating weight of their gaze targeted right between his shoulder blades but couldn’t figure out where they were hiding. The only vantage point that made sense was the window that looked out into the garden from Lavinia’s office. Moving slowly, as if still studying the flowers in the garden, Duncan made his way around to where he could casually look in that direction.

No enemy could’ve made it that far without the alarm being raised, so it had to be one of the sisters. The only question was how long had she been watching before he’d noticed?

Had she seen him slipping out of Lavinia’s room?

When he finally saw the spy, his tension drained away. What was Sarra doing in Lavinia’s office at this hour? He forced a smile on his face and headed toward the door.

“Hey, little one, you’re awake early. Did you need Lady Lavinia for something?”

When Sarra didn’t immediately respond, he knelt down to her eye level. Still, she stared through him, as if completely unaware of his presence. She had that same odd look in her eyes he’d seen before when the spirits had spoken through her.

He touched her face, hoping that bit of contact might bring her back out of the trance she was trapped in. Her skin was cold to the touch, and her lips were tinged with blue. Fear for the little girl had him up and running back outside to Lavinia’s door and already calling her name.

He found her sitting up, the blankets pooled around her waist. Ordinarily he would have paused to drink in the sight of all that creamy skin gleaming in the soft yellow glow of the mage light. Not this time, however, with little Sarra in trouble.

“It’s Sarra. She’s standing in your office. She wouldn’t speak, and her skin is ice-cold.”

“I’ll be right there,” Lavinia said as she left her bed. “Take my blanket to wrap her in. This isn’t the first time we’ve found her wandering about the abbey awake and yet sleeping.”

Sarra didn’t appear to be asleep to him, but perhaps Lavinia had the right of it. He hoped so. Grabbing the blanket, still warm from Lavinia’s body, he hurried back to Sarra. She stood in the exact same spot, staring at the garden with glassy eyes. He wrapped her in the blanket.

“Lady Lavinia is on her way, Sarra. When she gets here, tell us what is wrong.”

There. Finally, a small flicker of awareness flashed across her face, but then it was gone again. Still, it gave him hope. He pulled her into his arms and carried her outside to the bench to sit in the first bright beams of sunlight, hoping their warmth would get through to her.

Lavinia, her hair tousled from the night’s activity, hurried out of her room, still fastening the belt of her robes. The sight stole his breath, but he forced his attention back to Sarra.

Lavinia joined them on the bench, slipping her arm around her young friend’s thin shoulders. “Sarra, what’s wrong? Can you talk to me?”

No response. Seeing the little girl caught up in a sticky web of magic made Duncan want to strike out, but his sword was useless against an invisible enemy. Sarra was so cold. Mayhap he could do something about that.

“You stay with her while I run to the kitchen and fetch some hot tea for her. For all of us.”

Duncan had gone but two steps when Sarra abruptly spoke. Or someone spoke through her.

“Duncan, Warrior of the Mist, Damned by the gods and yet their avatar.”

He spun back to face the girl, unsure how to react. Finally, he whispered, “I am here.”

Sarra tipped her face up as if to look at him even though her eyes remained unblinking. “You will find the answers you seek, but you must hurry. Men ride this way, seeking, hunting. If they find you . . .”

She paused to glance in Lavinia’s direction. “Or if they find your lady or me, all will be lost. Everything you and the Damned have done will be for naught.”

He forced himself to speak calmly. “What men are coming, Sarra?”

“The men with no will, their souls and hearts devoured by the evil one whose mark they bear. He has set them upon the trail of the coins. That path will lead them straight here.”

Lavinia joined the conversation. “Sarra, when will these men get here? And whose mark do they bear?”

The little girl tilted her head to the side and frowned, her posture far too adult for one of her few years. “Soon. Days, not weeks. They come in number.”

Tears streaked down Sarra’s face. “He has used all her magic, and now she lies dying. It’s what will happen to all of us.”

“Who, Sarra? Who is dying?”

For the first time, she answered with a child’s voice and a child’s grief. “My mother. The bad man has used her all up.”

When she started sobbing, Duncan’s heart broke.

*  *  *

“Is she resting quietly?”

It was the third time since Sarra had cried herself to sleep that Duncan had poked his head into Lavinia’s office to check on the little girl. They’d coaxed her into eating a few bites of honeyed porridge and then drinking some tea. Berta had laced it with a mild herb to help Sarra sleep.

Lavinia looked over toward the pallet they’d made for Sarra on the floor. The child hadn’t moved since she’d lain down.

“She seems to be at peace. Berta said the herb would wear off in four or five hours, so Sarra should awaken soon.”

Duncan came farther into the room. “I hope when she does, that she is back to herself. But even if the voices have relinquished control over her, she’ll still carry the memory of her mother’s suffering and the threat against all of us.”

“We all hurt for her.”

In truth, Lavinia hurt for them all. “Have you made any progress this morning?”

He shook his head. “No, I’ve been working with the guards to prepare for an attack. I discussed strategy with Josup. Given how narrow the switchback trail is, there’s no way for an armed force to approach the abbey except in a column of two horses walking side by side.”

He walked over to the window to stare out into the garden. “Even with the limited number of guards we have, they will be able to defend the abbey.”

She cringed over the thought of those men offering up their lives for her and the other sisters. That anyone would actually consider laying siege to an abbey was horrifying. Images of the sisters huddled inside while men died outside filled her head. Worse yet, what would happen to them all if Ifre’s men actually breached the walls?

Her eyes were drawn back to Sarra. The little girl had suffered so many losses already.

“When you go, you must take Sarra with you. She trusts you, and she’ll be safer that way. I’m going to send some of the younger sisters across the pass to another abbey, and Ifre will logically assume that she went with them. The head of the order will see to it that they are safe there, and my brother won’t dare attack because he’d start a war.”

Duncan’s pale eyes were the color of a sword blade when he looked at her. “And what about you? Your half brother hunts for you. If Sarra is right, the real reason he’s sending his men here is to find you.”

The sleeping girl whimpered, stirring restlessly. It was impossible to know if she was having a nightmare or if she was reacting to the escalating tension between Lavinia and Duncan.

“We’ll discuss this later. Joetta promised to come sit with Sarra soon. When she does, I’ll join you in the library.”