Her Knight's Quest: A Warriors of the Mist Novel (8 page)

Duncan went on talking, his expression grave. “Sarra, those were not bad men. Someone else tricked them. I stopped them the only way I could, but their deaths make me sad, not happy. I wish there had been some other way to keep them from hurting Lady Lavinia. I know that’s hard to understand, but I hope you believe me.”

Sarra’s small body thrummed with tension. “But bad men killed my father and stole my mother. I hate them.”

There was such sadness in Duncan’s pale eyes. He reached out to touch Sarra’s cheek. “That’s understandable, little one.”

To Lavinia’s amazement, Sarra responded by giving Duncan a hug. Since coming to the abbey, she had avoided any contact with the few men who passed through. Clearly Duncan had passed some test for Sarra to respond to him in such a way. It was something to think about. For now, Lavinia had pressing business with the man.

“Sarra, I promise to spend time with you when I can, but right now Sir Duncan and I have work to do. Why don’t you go see if Sister Joetta has time to work on your music?”

The little girl immediately dropped into a low curtsy. “May I be excused?”

“Yes, you may.”

Sarra skipped toward the door, her good mood obviously restored. At the last second, she stopped abruptly to return to Duncan. She frowned, her small mouth a straight line.

Her voice shimmered with power when she spoke, sounding far more adult than it should have. In fact, it was deep and male. “We are sorry you were hurt, Sir Duncan, but trust that you’ll find your way back soon and find yourself at peace at long last.”

Once the words were spoken, both Sarra’s smile and little-girl voice returned. “They wanted you to know that.”

Then she skipped away, leaving the two adults staring after her.

*  *  *

Duncan didn’t know what to say. For the moment, he delayed responding at all while he rose back up to his feet. His leg wasn’t happy with him for putting it through the effort, but the pain helped disguise his shock.

That was three times he’d encountered magic since arriving at the abbey. The little girl’s magic didn’t feel corrupted as the coins did, but it left him a bit shaken and seriously concerned for Sarra.

“Tell me about her.” He glared at Lavinia, making sure she knew it was an order, not a suggestion.

“She came to us a few weeks ago. A passing tinker had found her half starved and alone with her father’s corpse. She refused to say a single word for days after being left here at the abbey.”

Before continuing, Lavinia walked out into her garden. Duncan followed her and took a seat on the closest bench. The warmth of the sun did little about the chill in Lavinia’s words. “From what we’ve been able to piece together, Duke Keirthan’s men came for her mother and killed Sarra’s father for defending his wife. It was a good thing he’d hidden Sarra, because I fear they would have taken her as well since strong gifts for magic often run in a family. From what Sarra says, there are voices that tell her things sometimes. It would be easy to doubt the truth of that, but you’ve heard the proof for yourself.”

“Her gift is for telling riddles?”

He massaged his thigh, telling himself that the bite in his words stemmed from the pain from his wound. In truth, Sarra’s words left him confused and hurting. He didn’t need a reminder that his time was limited. Soon he’d sleep in the river again, which was anything but peaceful.

She shot him a chiding look. “To be truthful, I’ve never encountered a talent like Sarra’s before. Sometimes she simply finds lost objects, saying a voice told her where to look. Other times, she makes a pronouncement like she did for you. I’ve cautioned her about using great care around others, but most especially in front of strangers. If the voices want her to say something, I’ve asked that she say it to me first so that I can be the one to relay the message without involving her. This is the first time that she has spoken directly to someone else.”

Lavinia had been circling the garden, stopping to touch a flower here and there. “We gave her a new name in hopes of protecting her identity. Nothing will keep her safe for long if it gets out that she speaks for the gods.”

Lavinia was right about that. They already knew that Keirthan had been after Lady Merewen because of her rare gift. Even as his power increased, the duke’s hunger for more magic and the swath of violence he left across the kingdom grew by the day.

“Sarra’s secret is safe with me, but you have good reason to be concerned. I haven’t been in Agathia for long, but I do know that her mother is only one of many who have disappeared.”

Lavinia spun back to face him. “And what brought you to Agathia, and more specifically, what brought you here to the abbey?”

He’d wondered how long it would take her to get back to that question. Before he laid his truth on the table, though, they had other matters to deal with. He conceded a little ground.

He stood up, crossing to stand right before her. He liked that she failed to be intimidated by his superior height and size. “I have need of your library.”

“To what purpose?”

“Research.”

“Before I grant you even that much, I want your help in deciding what to do with the coins.”

Before he could accept, she added, “It is obvious that even a house of worship isn’t safe from attack, and Sarra is not the only one who has sought sanctuary here. Earlier this morning, I gave Musar money to hire some guards for the abbey. Many spend the winter in the town near his winter quarters with nothing to occupy their time until the caravans start up again in the spring. He’ll send men he can vouch for, but I want someone I trust to take charge of them.”

He certainly hadn’t expected that. It was also interesting that she looked away briefly when she said that Sarra wasn’t the only one who’d taken refuge from the duke inside the abbey walls. Did that mean Lavinia was one of the others?

For now, he asked, “You trust me?”

This time her eyes locked on to his. “As much as I trust anyone right now.”

He wasn’t going to lie to her. “I can’t promise how long I can remain here. At best, only until my research is complete. But before I leave, I will make sure the men he sends are well trained and trustworthy.”

“Then we have a deal, Sir Duncan. Now we should study those coins.”

As he followed her out of the garden, she added, “Just know that any time you spend in the library, I will be right there beside you. We don’t allow anyone in there unsupervised.”

The idea of spending hours upon hours in her company pleased him far more than it should have.

Again, he gave her his truth. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Chapter 9

T
he hallway of the abbey had never been this long before. Lavinia was sure of it. Somehow overnight the building had grown in length or else it was the burden of the steel box containing the two coins that made it seem that way. She’d ordered the passageway cleared, reducing the possibility that someone else might be ensorcelled by the curse they carried.

As she and Duncan made their way to the far end of the building, she sensed the other members of the community hovering behind closed doors. More than once she heard someone chanting a prayer of the light as they passed by. She would’ve preferred to keep the details of the attack secret, but it had happened right in front of everyone. Even so, she would protect the others as best she could.

“How much farther?”

She glanced at her grim-faced companion. He’d insisted on carrying the box, but the effort was taking its toll on him. She thought about offering to take a turn carrying the heavy burden but decided against it. Knowing male pride, she suspected he would refuse. She paused to light a lantern and picked it up. “Not far now.”

The passage led deep into the hillside, so there were no windows to let in the sunlight. Normally, it didn’t bother her, but today it was as if the weight of the hill pressed down on her shoulders. Did Duncan feel it, too?

At the far end, she pulled out her ring of keys and sorted through them for the correct one. After several tries to turn the key, there was a loud click that echoed up and down the hallway.

The door swung open on well-oiled hinges. She stepped through first, chanting a small spell to ignite the mage lights inside the heavily warded workshop. They flickered to life, the soft blue-white glow chasing the shadows back into the farthest edges of the large room. Next she set the lantern back out in the hallway outside the door. It was never smart to bring flames into the room when there were spells to be invoked.

The dome-shaped ceiling soared a good distance overhead, making the room seem even bigger. In the center stood a round table fashioned out of a single piece of granite. Despite all of the magic that had been wrought upon the stone, its surface still gleamed mirror smooth.

She pointed toward the table. “Set the box there.”

Duncan did as she asked, obviously glad to relinquish his burden. He stood beside her, looking around with a worried look. “What is this place?”

“It is circles within circles.”

Her answer failed to satisfy him. Clearly he didn’t understand the significance of a series of concentric circles. That reassured her. No serious practitioner of magic would’ve failed to recognize the design and function of the room.

“The hill that surrounds us is the first circle. Next come these curved walls that surround us.”

She pointed to a pair of rings made of light green stones set into the darker green floor. “Those form the circles that surround the table, which in turn is a circle itself. According to the oldest chronicles of our order, this room was the reason the abbey was built in this spot. They wanted a safe place to practice magic.”

If anything, her answer made him even more unhappy. He stepped closer to the center of the room, his odd eyes taking in everything. He stared at the mage lights for a long time, his mouth set in a grim line. She noted that his hand rested on the grip of his sword as if ready to ward off an attack.

He finally turned to look at her. “And what kind of magic do you practice here? What is its source?”

No answer was far better than a lie. They had business to attend to, business that could not be delayed for the length of time it would take for her to explain who and what she was.

“Duncan, this room will protect us from an attack by whoever created the spell on those coins. It will also contain any backlash we set off by trying to destroy them.”

His eyebrows snapped down. “Lady Lavinia, one of these days I hope you will answer my questions directly.”

It would be such a relief to be able to truly unburden herself, to share the heavy load that sat squarely on her shoulders, but she couldn’t. Far more than just her own life depended on her ability to hold her secrets safe.

“I think we both have reasons to keep our true purposes to ourselves, Sir Duncan. Perhaps it would be best if we did what we came here for.”

“Fine. We will get started.”

Duncan immediately approached the steel box and held his hand out for the key. She hesitated briefly before letting him take charge but then handed it to him. He’d already proven his ability to resist the pull of the dark magic that had been infused into the coins. She’d yet to touch them directly, but even passing her hand over them had left her skin feeling unclean.

“Before you open that, I need to invoke the wards.”

“If you must.” His hands were clenched in fists, his knuckles white with the effort. “What do you need me to do?”

Yesterday he’d seemed far more relaxed around the coins. Why was he so tense now? She kept her own voice calm, her words slow and easy. Magic was unpredictable enough without the clumsiness that stress could bring with it.

“First, remove your weapons and leave them outside in the hall. Keep your smallest knife with you, though. You will want to use it to avoid touching the coins for as long as possible. When you’re done, stand next to the table, because the wards are not keyed to you. I will bring up each successive one and then join you in the innermost circle.”

Duncan quickly stripped off an alarming number of weapons and piled them out in the hallway. When he was ready, he stood in grim silence as she set to work. She pressed her hands against the wall at the far side of the room. Reaching for the natural power of the dirt and stone and life upon the hillside, she drew its strength into her and then set it free to flow through the structure of the walls that surrounded them. She didn’t know if Duncan could feel the pure beauty of all the living force that made up the world, but it washed her spirit clean.

She moved one quarter around the room and knelt to touch the first circle in the floor. The stones flashed brightly before once again fading to their normal color with only a faint sparkle to hint at the power of the ward.

Another quarter turn brought her to the innermost circle. This one flashed even more brightly at her touch. By now, her skin tingled almost to the point of pain from the various layers of magic that held them barricaded inside the circles of power.

Finally she approached the table and placed her hand on its center. She repeated the last invocation twice before the stone’s surface shimmered brightly with a flash of fire. When the last bit of energy sank deeply into the stone, she nodded to Duncan.

“Now you may begin.”

He studied her for several long seconds. A myriad of questions flashed in his eyes but remained unspoken. Eventually he would give voice to them, and she dreaded that moment. At least he realized that now wasn’t the time. He looked away from her with some effort and turned his attention to the table.

His hands steady, Duncan opened the lock and lifted the lid of the box. He inserted the tip of his knife into the loop of the leather thong that held the coin purse closed and lifted it out onto the table. He then closed the box and set it back down on the floor and under the table. Smart man. There was no telling what the magic in those coins could use as a weapon.

Already she could feel the throbbing beat of the dark magic. She closed her eyes and drew more of her own power to counter it. Duncan tugged at the leather thong to untie the bag. She hated the thought of those coins touching this place that had always been used to invoke the natural power of the earth, but she could think of no place better for dealing with them.

The two coins spilled out onto the granite with a dull thunk, sounding far too heavy for their small size. Duncan drew a small pair of tongs from the leather pouch he wore on his belt. She admired his forethought as he carefully lifted the first coin with the tongs rather than using his fingers.

He held it up to the light and carefully studied first one side and then the other. “This looks no different than any of the other gold coins I have seen. What do you think?”

As she stepped closer, she concentrated on keeping her breathing slow and even, knowing any agitation on her part would affect her control over the power she’d poured into the wards.

“You are right. On the surface, there is nothing that distinguishes them from other coins from Agathia. The likeness is of the current Duke Keirthan.”

Duncan cocked his head to the side and looked from her to the coin and back.

“Do you know of any reason the duke might want to kill you in particular?”

Lavinia lifted her gaze to meet Duncan’s head-on and did the only thing she could possibly do. She lied.

“No, I don’t.”

*  *  *

When Gideon returned from dealing with the loss of Merewen’s horses, he looked like hell. At least his countenance brightened upon seeing Murdoch marching along the hall with Averel’s assistance.

Gideon crossed his arms over his chest. “About time you left that bed.”

Murdoch kept trudging toward him. “Yes, well, somebody had to give young Averel here something to occupy his time besides playing with those flea-bitten dogs of his.”

“Hey, now. It’s one thing to insult me, but leave my dogs out of it.” Despite his protest, the young knight shot Gideon a quick grin.

“Averel, I’ll stay with Murdoch while you go check in with Kane. We brought back a foal that might need your touch with young animals.”

Averel’s smile faded. “How bad was it? How does Lady Merewen fare?”

Gideon clenched his fists at the memory. “Bad enough. Seven horses were killed by the same foul means as the attack on Scim. She’s taking it all pretty hard, but having the foal to fuss over is helping. Right now she’s out in her workshop brewing a special mix to feed him until they can find a mare to nurse him.”

As they passed by a window, Gideon paused to look out, probably trying to give Murdoch time to catch his breath before continuing on without being obvious about it.

“Tomorrow, she’s going to send Kestrel out to move the herds closer to the mountains. There’s no way to know how far that magic can reach, but we’re hoping the hills and valleys will provide some protection against the attacks. I don’t know what else we can do. We must find the source of this evil, and soon.”

“Duncan should reach the abbey any day now. He’ll find answers for us.”

Averel sounded far more convinced of that than Murdoch was, but then the young knight always was the most positive of their group.

“I hope so for all our sakes.” Gideon’s own doubts showed in the deep lines bracketing his mouth as he moved on down the hall. Murdoch started walking again.

The three of them reached the far end of the hall and wheeled around to start back. Gideon continued. “Kane is in the stable with Jarod, trying to keep the foal calm and warm.”

Unexpectedly, he smiled. “Even Rogue has taken an interest in the foal, refusing to leave his side. Not sure what to make of that.”

“I’ll go check on them.” Averel clapped Murdoch on the back. “Don’t wear yourself out completely. You promised me a game of chess later.”

Murdoch nodded. “I’ll be waiting.”

Gideon waited until Averel was gone to ask, “So how are you really feeling?”

Murdoch gave up trying to put on a brave front and let his shoulders sag with weariness. “As if I don’t make it back to my bed soon, I won’t make it at all.”

“Want some help?”

“No, but stay with me that far.” He stopped about halfway down the hallway and leaned against the wall for support. “I had an interesting conversation with Sigil, my fellow patient.”

Gideon’s eyebrows shot up. “Sigil? So we finally have his name. That’s something.”

Murdoch gave Gideon a weary smile. “Not exactly. His memories only go back to the moment he awoke in that bed. He cannot recall how he came to be there, much less his own name. He picked Sigil because I told him we’d recognized him as the duke’s man by the symbol he’d been wearing when he took the blow intended for me.”

“And you believe him?”

Murdoch stared past Gideon toward the trooper’s room. “He certainly has every reason to lie about it. He knows he will stand judgment for the crimes he has committed in the duke’s name.”

The trembling in his knees worsened. It was time to get back to his room while he could still make it that far on his own. “However, I think Sigil is telling the truth as he knows it.”

Gideon looked disgusted. They both knew he didn’t need any more complications, and the duke’s man was definitely that. “Whether or not he’s telling the truth, keep a close watch on him. The man didn’t become an officer without a willingness to kill in the duke’s name.”

Murdoch slowed again, finally stopping to lean against the wall once more. “Yes, but it’s also true that he saved Alina from Fagan, and me as well. I hate that I owe him a debt of honor, but that doesn’t change the fact that I do.”

Gideon shared his frustration. “What would you have me do? We cannot allow him to wander freely in the keep. One act of mercy cannot absolve him of everything that went before.”