Honor's Price (20 page)

Finally, he lowered his sword and stepped back. Keirthan smiled at the sergeant.

“A wise decision, Markus. I would hate to lose both you and the captain from my service at the same time.”

Keirthan walked all the way around Kane, studying
him from every angle. “I will need your help lifting him up on the altar. Once we have attached the chains and stripped off his uniform, you can go about your business. Given Kane's strength of will, I doubt I will have need of your services down here for a good long while. I'm sure that pleases you.”

Markus met Kane's gaze one last time and then did as the duke asked.

*   *   *

Kane awoke to the sensation of smooth marble at his back and cold steel on his ankles and wrists. Without even opening his eyes, he recognized the dread chill of Keirthan's blood magic. By now he'd grown accustomed to its oily stench, which permeated the entire keep, but he'd never been this close to the source of Keirthan's power. It washed over him in waves, lapping at his skin with greedy little licks and whispered promises of pain and death.

His instincts took over, leaving him straining against the heavy shackles. He threw his considerable strength into the effort, yanking and pulling against his fetters until his skin was bruised and dripping blood. His efforts got him nowhere, but he refused to surrender without a fight. To do anything else was a failure, an affront to his own personal honor.

A voice stabbed into his mind.
“Don't speak to us of honor, Lord Kane. You are nothing but a common mercenary, one who sells his sword to the highest bidder. You were a disappointment to your grandfather, and now you will disappoint your friends and your gods.”

“Lies! All lies!” he shouted back. “It is Keirthan who has no honor!”

The cloud above him stopped spinning as the eyes within it stared down at Kane.
“True, but he has power. All will bow before us once I drink in the rich gift of your magic and your blood. You've wasted the power you were born with, but I will put it to good use.”

Damijan laughed again, sounding like a greedy child.
“Keirthan has also promised me virgins. Their innocence
shall be mine to take. Their undoing will release me from the chains that deny me entrance to this world even as your shackles hold you down on my altar. Killing Keirthan's enemies will be a small price to pay for my freedom. See for yourself the future that awaits your friends.”

Images filled Kane's head of Theda's ladies-in-waiting being led to the slaughter. Next he saw Gideon and his friends fighting a leather-skinned monstrosity that howled with joy as it cut them to pieces. Its eyes were the same as the ones that now watched his every move.

No, there had to be another way. His faith in the power of the Lady of the River and in the courage of his fellow Damned ran deep, giving Kane hope. Remembering the darkness fed off fear and anger, Kane smiled back at his tormentor.

“Even with your help, the duke cannot, will not defeat the forces that now gather to stand against him. He is a coward, not a warrior. You've chosen your weapon badly because he will snap like poorly tempered steel, sending you right back to the netherworld that spawned you.”

Kane believed that was true in the depths of his soul, but his friends would need him at their sides when the Damned finally brought the fight to Keirthan's gate. Even more important, Theda needed him to protect her and her friends from Keirthan's plans for them.

“You are right, of course. Keirthan is a poor vessel, one made of inferior metal, but he suits my purposes. If I had chosen one such as you to build my path to freedom, it would have been a battle to take a single step. Once I break free, I will drink his essence, swill that it is. But you, Lord Kane, I will savor as a vintner does a rare vintage.”

Suddenly, the hold on Kane's mind disappeared. He blessed the silence, but the respite didn't last for long. He'd been so intent on the words in his mind that he hadn't heard the duke return. That explained the abrupt end to their conversation. Obviously, the monster didn't want his puppet to learn of his plans for him.

The duke grasped Kane's arm and studied it. “Ah, Captain, you have regained consciousness, but I see that you've managed to damage yourself. You shouldn't waste your energy or your blood, especially when I have pressing need for them both.”

Kane ignored him, turning his eyes to the side to stare out toward the fire pit. The fool liked the sound of his own voice far too much.

“I'm surprised that you're not threatening me. Have you already surrendered to the inevitable? Don't tell me that the image you portray of a great warrior is nothing but posturing? That would greatly disappoint me.”

Kane smiled at Keirthan, flashing his long canines, not caring if his eyes burned red or his mage mark pulsed with magic. “You know nothing of what it means to be a warrior and a man of honor. Regardless of my fate, you will face the judgment of the gods. When that happens, you will crawl on your belly and beg for mercy like the coward that you are.”

Damijan laughed. Kane had no idea if his captor heard it and didn't care. Keirthan flushed red with fury and pulled a knife from his belt. He leaned down close enough that Kane could smell the wine on his breath.

“Do not think you can provoke me into killing you quickly, Kane. Your insults carry no weight, and your gods are helpless to save you.”

He pressed the tip of the knife against Kane's chest. “You will bleed tonight, Kane, and you will scream even if you hold out longer than most. Watching you struggle to maintain your dignity and that honor you are so proud of will provide hours of amusement for me.”

When he finished his taunt, Keirthan made a shallow cut in Kane's skin, a wound designed to bleed but not cause irreparable harm. When Keirthan laid the knife against the wound, it drank deeply of Kane's blood, turning the steel a dark crimson.

Kane's ability to heal slowly closed the wound, shutting
off the supply of blood to the knife. Instead of Keirthan getting angry over being thwarted, he smiled, clearly delighted.

“Lovely, Captain. I had no idea you had a talent for healing yourself. Think how much longer we'll be able to play together!”

As he made a second slash and then a third, the knife soaked up Kane's blood as the cloud that was Damijan pulsed darker and darker.

*   *   *

Theda circled the hall a fourth time, stopping to talk to a few people as she made her rounds. Her brother-in-law had returned briefly, only to disappear a second time through the door leading to his lair below the keep. She didn't miss his company, but she worried about what was keeping him occupied down there.

She was even more worried because Kane had yet to put in an appearance. When they'd parted company an hour before dawn, she was sure he'd told her he'd be on duty this evening. Even if she was wrong about that, he usually stopped by to make sure the guards were doing their job. And she liked to think he also came to see her, even if only from across the room.

Odd, though, that Sergeant Markus was also conspicuously absent. Normally, he was around if Kane wasn't. Had something happened that required the attention of both men? If so, surely she would have heard something. The courtiers lived to gossip, and she would've heard if any rumors were making their way through the crowd.

After slowly circling the room, she stepped outside to look around. The air was cool, and the sun hovered right above the horizon. Its fiery light painted the city crimson. On another day, in a different time, she might have found the sight beautiful.

Tonight it left her chilled and afraid. Was she jumping at shadows? She'd lived with fear as a constant companion ever since her husband's death, but right now it
threatened to overpower her. Why? She studied her surroundings but could perceive no obvious threat. The guards were at their posts, scanning the area for danger. Their stance was attentive, not concerned.

So what was bothering her?

Experience had taught her that it wasn't wise to show too much interest in any particular individual because it gave Ifre another weapon to use against her. He'd already sent her stepson away from the city and refused to tell her where he was. In her darkest moments, she feared he was already lost. But until she knew for sure, she would do nothing to further endanger him.

Margaret and Lydia would soon leave the city. She prayed nothing happened to interfere with their plans. Ifre grew more unstable with each passing day. Soon no one would be safe within the city walls, and she wanted her young friends as far from danger as possible.

But for Kane's sake, she was willing to take the risk of drawing Ifre's attention to her interest in the captain. She studied the two guards briefly. She picked the younger one to approach for no other reason than he nodded as she passed by.

When she walked toward him, his shoulders snapped back to attention. “Is there something you needed, my lady?”

The respectful greeting surprised her. He certainly hadn't learned that from Markus. “Yes. I was wondering if you had seen either Sergeant Markus or Captain Kane. I need to talk to one of them.”

Preferably Kane, but it was better the guard not know that.

“I saw Sergeant Markus come out of the hall and walk toward the city some hours ago right after Captain Kane came on duty. The captain himself came out shortly after that and asked after the sergeant. When I told him where the sergeant had gone, he went to his office to work. Shall I send word that you have need of him?”

“No. That's not necessary. The matter can wait until I
see him tomorrow.” She smiled at the young guard. “Thank you for your help.”

She returned to the great hall, not sure what she should do next. It appeared that everything was as it should be. If Markus was off duty, he was entitled to spend time in the city.

It seemed odd, though, that Kane had been looking for Markus when they'd both been in the hall only minutes before. Knowing she wouldn't rest easily until she knew for sure Kane was safe, she made her way to the side door by the garden. She stopped short of her goal, realizing it was too early for Tom to be there.

If she walked outside now, she'd have to pass by another guard, who might report her movements to Ifre, but it was worth the risk. It was imperative that she find Kane immediately, even if she was unsure why the compulsion to do so was so strong. After all, he was a warrior and capable of defending himself.

But her mind kept turning back to the previous night, when Kane had felt compelled to teach her how to call Hob from his shield. At the time, he'd thought she might need Hob for her own protection, but what if he had it backward? What if his goddess had sensed he was the one who would be in danger, and Kane had misunderstood?

If he was fine and simply doing paperwork, well, she'd live with the embarrassment. Theda drew herself up and walked out the door without hesitation. Just as expected, there was a guard standing slouched against the wall to the right of the door.

He barely acknowledged her, a reaction typical of the men Ifre hired to protect the keep. She swept past the guard, ignoring him in return.

Rather than heading directly for Kane's quarters, she took a more indirect route through the garden. Once she was out of sight, she lifted the front of her skirts and ran, slowing only when she reached the far edge of the garden.

There, she paused to study her surroundings. Two
guards were just leaving the stable, forcing her to retreat a few steps until they were gone. Drawing a deep breath, she started forward again, constantly on the lookout for anyone in the area. She made it as far as the door Kane had taken her through last night.

Thank the gods, it was unlocked, and she hurried inside. Once again, luck was with her. The hallway was empty even though she could hear men talking in the distance. By the time she reached the door to Kane's office, her knees were shaking.

He wasn't at his desk, and the candle was cold, making it unlikely he'd been there recently. Pressing her ear against the door to his bedroom, she heard nothing but more silence.

What if he was merely sleeping? Rather than barge in, she knocked softly on the door, calling, “Kane? Are you in there?”

No answer. She cracked open the door and looked in. The room was empty, the bed neatly made. Kane's shield hung on the wall, and Hob had returned to rest in it. Rather than immediately retreat, she walked over to the shield and reached out to caress Hob's head.

“I wish you could tell me where your master is, Hob. I'm worried about him.”

As soon as her fingers touched the warmth of Hob's image, a jolt of dizzying pain burned up her arm, sending Theda to her knees. She held her burning hand against her breast and struggled to make sense of what had just happened.

It wasn't her pain she'd felt; nor did it make sense that it was Hob's. That left only one horrifying alternative: It was Kane's, and the gargoyle was feeling it through his connection to his master. Wherever Kane was, he was in agony.

Her worst fear had come true. Ifre had captured Kane and now held him prisoner in the chambers below the keep. He couldn't have been there long—a few hours at best. A warrior like Kane wouldn't break easily. What
had her bastard of a brother-in-law done to him in such a short time to leave Kane screaming like that?

She rocked in grief, her soul sick with the idea. Her distress had her stomach churning until she started retching. After losing her dinner, the dry heaves kept her bent double for a long time. It seemed forever before the waves of nausea abated.

Ifre had already taken too much from her. She would not let him take Kane, too. Rising to her feet, she sat down on the edge of the bed, taking comfort from the memories they'd created there only hours before. Thinking about Kane helped to calm her mind; she'd have to have a clear head if she was going to find a way to free her lover from Keirthan's clutches.