Her Knight's Quest: A Warriors of the Mist Novel (19 page)

He started to protest, but Sarra cried out in her sleep again. Lavinia ignored Duncan to go sit down on the floor to rub Sarra’s back, crooning to her in a soft voice to lull her back to a sound sleep.

A few seconds later, she heard the door close. He’d gone. Good. She didn’t want him to see her tears. Did he really think she wanted to watch him ride away with Sarra? She knew full well that once he was gone, she’d never see him again.

Gods above, that thought hurt. She had no regrets about inviting Duncan to share her bed, nor would she turn him away now. The memories they’d created together would last her a lifetime. They’d have to. Would he remember her?

Her father’s death had taught her there was nothing to be gained by dwelling on that which could not be changed. It was true then; it was true now. That didn’t make it any easier to accept.

Her door opened again. Had Duncan returned? She used the edge of her sleeve to wipe a stray tear off her cheek before turning to face him. To her relief, it was Sister Joetta.

“I’m sorry it took me so long, Lavinia. Lessons ran late.” Joetta kept her words to a whisper as the two of them stared down at Sarra. “How is our little one?”

“She had a rough time earlier, but she’s been resting peacefully for a while now. I’d expect her to awaken within the hour.”

Lavinia stepped back, not wanting to disturb the girl’s sleep while they talked. “Are you able to sit with her? I need to continue my studies in the library.”

Joetta held up a basket. “I brought my sewing to work on. I’ve already told Sister Margaret that I cannot help serve the midday meal.”

“That’s good. I appreciate everyone’s help.”

Joetta touched Lavinia’s hand. “You never have to bear a burden by yourself, Lady Lavinia. After all, the goddess teaches us that a burden shared is a burden no more. We know that the attack the other night was no accident. It was aimed at you.”

She smiled, the deep wrinkles on her face showing her age. “I know of your connection to the ruling family.”

The prior abbess, now the head of the order, had suggested Lavinia keep that secret. She’d never spoken of it to anyone in the order, not even to her closest friends. “How long have you known?”

“From the time you first walked through the door.” This time her smile was sad. “I knew your mother. She was a lovely woman, and you look very much like her.”

“But you’ve never said anything.”

Joetta set her basket down. “It was obvious that you felt it necessary to protect your identity. I’m guessing that your family connection has come back to haunt you.”

Before Lavinia could respond, the older woman continued. “Margaret and I both think young Duncan is here because of the increasing darkness spreading out from the capital city. The traders and others who pass through here whisper of it when they think no one is listening.”

Lavinia hid a smile at her friend’s referring to Duncan as a young man. Joetta would be shocked to find out exactly how old he was. “Sir Duncan says there have been attacks that strike from out of the sky with no warning. There are also reports of families disappearing from their homes yet leaving all their possessions behind and food still on the table.”

She nodded in Sarra’s direction. “Then there was the attack on her family.”

As Lavinia gathered up the few things she needed to take with her to the library, Joetta slipped in one more question.

“And what role does Sir Duncan play in all of this?”

The older woman gave Lavinia a considering look before continuing. “According to old superstitions, the odd color of his eyes marks his service to the gods. If so, it is my guess that his arrival here in time to save you was no accident.”

It was a relief to have someone to talk to. Lavinia stared out into the garden. “He has four friends, all of whom are sworn to protect a landholder to the west of us named Lady Merewen. The duke hunts her as well. Duncan is here to search the forbidden books for a way to counter my half brother’s blood magic. He’s waiting for me in the library now.”

Joetta looked shocked. “You’ve allowed Duncan access to those books, alone and unsupervised? That’s forbidden.”

The sister’s tone was not accusatory, but she was clearly worried. What could Lavinia say?

“I trust him, and not simply because he saved my life. Sir Duncan has provided me with good advice on how to make the abbey safe from attack. Also, Sarra likes and trusts him. You know how few people she allows to get close, especially men. I think that speaks well of his character.”

She shivered as she glanced at the spot where the scrying water had burned the plants. The incident had left her reluctant to contact the gods again. “I fear there may be an armed force heading in our direction. If so, time is running short to find the answers we need.”

“But those forbidden books are supposed to be hidden from outsiders and with good reason.”

She didn’t need to be second-guessed. “True, Joetta, and I have been working with him as time allows. Duncan speaks the old tongues as if he grew up speaking them.”

Which he had, although she kept that part to herself. “With the two of us searching through the old texts together, we will accomplish more than if I struggle through on my own.”

Joetta nodded slowly. “I trust your judgment and accept the necessity of breaking the rules in this instance. What would you have us to do to prepare in case we come under attack?”

Lavinia didn’t want to have to think about such a possibility, but avoidance would be foolish and shortsighted. “Tell Sister Margaret we’ll need food and water should we have to take refuge in the warded workroom. Ask Sister Berta to ensure we have enough of her ointments and herbal remedies to treat a number of wounded. Bandages, too. Perhaps some old sheets can be bleached clean and cut up for that.”

The urgency she felt to join Duncan in the library was growing stronger, so she started for the door. At the last second, she stopped and looked back.

“There’s one more thing you can do, Joetta: pray. Pray for all of us.”

Chapter 20

D
uncan skimmed passage after passage, rapidly turning the pages with minimal regard for their delicate condition. His mind was divided between the words in front of him and the awareness of each minute that passed. Time stopped for no one, least of all for the Damned. Minute by minute, hour by hour, the days passed with no way to slow their pace. The longer it took to find the spell to counter Duke Keirthan’s blood magic, the less time they’d have to invoke it.

Well-planned strategies couldn’t be simply thrown together. The moment two armies clashed was preceded by hours, days, or even weeks of planning. Soldiers didn’t reach the battlefield by accident or in solitude.

He ran his finger down the next paragraph. When he reached the bottom, he started to turn the page but hesitated. Had he missed something? Backing up to the top, he began again, reading it aloud and translating from his native tongue as he went.

By the time he’d finished half the page, he knew he’d finally stumbled across something useful. Before he could continue reading, Lavinia walked into the library. He marked his place and walked around the table to meet her.

“How is Sarra?”

Lavinia set her mage light down on a nearby shelf. “Still sleeping. Sister Joetta is with her.”

Some of the weight of worry eased in his chest. He brushed a lock of Lavinia’s hair back from her face. “That’s good to hear. How about you?”

She shrugged and rubbed her arms. “I’ll be fine. Seeing Sarra like that is always distressing, but this episode was the worst I’ve seen.”

Most likely because the dire predictions in Sarra’s pronouncement were aimed squarely at the three of them. It probably didn’t help that Lavinia had gotten very little sleep during the night thanks to him. He hoped she didn’t have regrets—far better to focus on what he’d been reading when she’d come in.

He let a little of his excitement show. “I’ve found something. I was reading it over a second time when you came in.”

A few of the shadows in her eyes were replaced with hope. “Really?”

He returned to the table and spun the book around so that they could both see the page. He read it to her in translation. When he was finished, he turned to the next page, only to discover the next pages were on a different subject altogether. On closer inspection, he realized that several pages had been torn out, taking the rest of the passage with them.

Frustrated, he stepped back, his hands clenched at his sides in anger. “Why is nothing ever easy? If I didn’t know for a fact that the Lady of the River wants the Damned to succeed, I would swear the gods were conspiring against us.”

“What’s wrong?”

When he pointed at the barely noticeable ragged edges of the torn pages, she sighed. “I’m sorry. Many of these books were rescued at the last moment, and some were already partially burned. We’ve mended what we could.”

Lavinia picked up the book and turned back to the page he’d been studying. She read it silently even though her lips moved, forming each word as she sounded it out. Fine. Maybe she could make more sense of it than he had.

When she finished, she set the book down and studied the shelves. “I’m sure I’ve encountered that same reference before. The question is where.”

She walked up and down the shelves, stopping occasionally to trail her finger over the titles on the spines of the books. Under other circumstances, he would’ve been content to watch her make her way down the row of books. She so clearly shared his love of knowledge for its own sake.

The way she touched the worn leather bindings was sensuous in nature, her pleasure obvious. It reminded him of how she’d used those same hands on him during the night. She breathed deeply, savoring the musty scent of old leather and parchment. Had the gods ever created another such woman? Not that he’d seen in his long life.

Frowning now, Lavinia picked up one volume but returned it after a brief glance at the pages inside. She tried a second and then a third. Finally, on the fourth try, she did a skipping step as if celebrating before returning to the table.

Opening the two books side by side, she pushed the new one toward Duncan. “Read that passage aloud while I follow along. If I’m right, yours contains the missing pages.”

For a second time, Duncan read the words as written and then repeated them in translation. While the book Lavinia had was missing the rest of the article, his continued on for several pages. What a relief that the new book had the passage intact. He stopped to reread a few paragraphs.

“I find this section confusing. It talks about balance in the world, one thing being the opposite but equal of the other.”

He stopped to point at the words on the page. “Then it goes on to say the blood of the body holds power over the one who spills it with ill purpose. Something about the master becoming the slave.”

Then Duncan moved forward a few paragraphs. “Here it mentions another kind of power, one that surrounds the body and fills the world. To wield the power in blood, it must be spilled. It weakens the donor and empowers the mage, yet the spirits of both are devoured.”

He looked toward Lavinia. “That sounds like what Duke Keirthan is doing. However, this other magic is definitely different. The source of its power is taken in and then shared without damaging the spirit or soul as long as the one who wields the magic remains strong and pure of purpose. If not, it will burn out of control and destroy everyone.”

So how was it different if it could still consume the mage? He went back to the text again. “It loosely translates as ‘both the same and different.’ I’m also not familiar with the word that describes the second magic, though. It’s similar to the word for dirt, but that’s not quite right. When confronted with the blood magic, this dirt magic will prevail if the mages are of equal strength. At least, I think that’s what it means.”

He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Maybe it will come to me later when I’ve had more time to think about it. The rest of the book talks about what the dirt mage needs to do to fight against the blood magic.”

He expected Lavinia to comment, even if she disagreed with his translation. When he finally looked up, she was staring down at the page, her dark eyes stark with pain just as Sarra’s had been earlier.

A chill washed through him. “Lavinia? What’s wrong?”

She pointed at the word he didn’t know. “It doesn’t mean dirt. It means earth.”

He read the sentence again, inserting the new word in the place of dirt. It read the same to him. “There’s a difference?”

“Yes. Earth has two meanings, only one of which is the dirt beneath our feet. It also refers to the world itself and everything in it. Ifre has become a blood mage, an abomination in the eyes of the gods. An earth mage draws power from the natural life energy of the world that surrounds us all.”

That made more sense than his original translation. “So what kind of spells would an earth mage perform?”

“Mostly little things. Mage lights, for example.” She finally looked him in the eye. “Or scrying. Sometimes, if she’s very lucky and good at what she does, she can destroy a blood mage’s coins.”

Everything shifted. For the longest time, all he could do was stare at the woman in front of him, the same woman he’d spent the night worshipping with his hands, his mouth, his entire body. The very one who had managed to wedge herself inside his heart was an earth mage. And he would guess she possessed considerable abilities, the kind of mage he needed to send into battle against her own brother. Her half brother, really, but that didn’t change anything.

Lavinia looked poised to run. He didn’t blame her, but then where could she go that she wouldn’t be hunted down? Now that the pieces had all come together, he understood why Ifre Keirthan was so determined to find her. She was very likely the one person alive who could counter all of the blood power the man had accrued. He either needed to take her captive or kill her.

Nothing else would do.

He looked around the library, allowing himself to soak in the sight because it would be the last time he saw it. Once again it was time to put away the scholar and let the warrior take over.

“Pack your things, including this book, Lavinia. Kiva will return soon with word from Gideon. Once we know what he has to say, we’ll leave. Riding hard, we’ll reach Lady Merewen’s keep within a few days.”

But Lavinia was already shaking her head. “No, I cannot simply abandon the abbey. My duty lies here. I don’t want you to leave, but I understand that you have to go. I’ll order the younger sisters to pack quickly so two of the guards can escort them to our order’s headquarters. The rest of us can take refuge in the warded workroom if necessary.”

Duncan’s temper flared hot. “That’s your answer? To hide here behind these thick walls while the people of Agathia die at the hands of your brother?”

Lavinia flinched as if he’d hit her with his fists rather than words. He hated hurting her, but how could he return to Gideon leaving their most potent weapon behind? He stepped back to let his temper cool. If anger wouldn’t work, maybe logic would.

“You want Sarra to be safe. You want to protect the other sisters as well. The best way to do that is to put an end to your brother’s predations on all of his people. These walls can’t protect you. Ifre already got through them once using the coins. This time he’s sending men with swords. Who will protect Sarra if he succeeds?”

“I’ve already said that she should go with you.”

Her words were spoken in a monotone, as if she had no emotional connection to either him or the girl. He recognized that for the lie it was. She cared deeply, especially about Sarra, probably because the two of them had so much in common. Both had lost their parents at an early age and possessed a powerful, magical gift, one not comfortable to live with.

She cared just as deeply about him. What she hadn’t said with words, she’d conveyed with the gift of her body. A woman in her position wouldn’t have lightly invited a man into her bed. Their bodies had joined together in a song of joy that had burned bright and hot. Duncan would remind her of that fact. Right now. No more arguments, no more words.

He set the book down with far more care than he’d picked it up. Silently, he gathered up his papers and set them and the ink bottle aside.

“Duncan?”

She sounded nervous. Good.

He waited until everything was all neat and tidy before turning to face her. One look at his face had her backing away, which only served to inflame his already precarious mood.

“You’re not going anywhere, Lavinia. Not until we’ve finished this discussion.”

He emphasized that last word, letting his eyes travel from her head to her toes, lingering along the way.

She froze, but then straightened her shoulders and put her hands on her hips. “Do not think that one night gives you the right to make demands on me, Duncan.”

He prowled closer. She stood her ground, but she wasn’t as calm as she wanted him to believe. Her pupils were dilated, and the pulse point at her throat belied her calm. He crowded her even more, stopping only when there was not even an arm’s distance between them.

Last night had been the first time in centuries that he’d bedded a woman, and the experience only left him craving more of the same. Not more of just any woman; more of Lavinia. And he meant to have her. But as determined as he was, he wouldn’t take that final step forward until she gave him permission. But unless she refused him, he was going take her right there in the library. On the table, against the wall, on the floor. He didn’t care where as long as he claimed her as his own.

“I want you, Lavinia. Right now. Right here,” he added, just to make himself clear.

She swallowed hard, her eyes dropping down just far enough to verify the truth of that statement. The length of his tunic hid the most visible evidence, but she sensed the truth of his statement. A woman always knew when a man craved her touch the way that Duncan wanted hers.

“You’re being scandalous. I do not like it.”

He smiled, infusing it with a little heat and a lot of hunger. “Scandalous? Not yet, but I plan to be.”

“What if someone were to walk in?”

She hadn’t said no. Satisfaction only heightened his craving for her. “Shove a table against the door or throw up one of your wards. Use that earth magic for something even if you won’t use it to save your homeland.”

That probably wasn’t the wisest thing he could’ve said, but he wouldn’t apologize.

“How dare you!”

She turned her back to him. Had he succeeded in driving her away? No, thank the Lady, she was chanting. He recognized the words as a variation on the spell she’d taught him. When she finished, the air crackled and snapped, leaving the two of them encased within a wall of pulsing light.

“Can anyone else see that?”

“No, and you shouldn’t be able to, either. If someone starts in this direction, he’ll change his mind and walk away.”

He held his hand close to the barrier, enjoying the tickle of its power on his skin. “So why does this ward look different than the other one you showed me?”

“Because this one also ensures no one can hear us. If we’re going to argue about your dragging me back to your captain, I don’t want to alarm the other sisters.”