Honor's Price (9 page)

It would be interesting to see what Kane did with those two bits of news.

“C
aptain, one of Sir Averel's dogs is approaching.”

“Let him in,” Gideon shouted as he and Murdoch ran toward the gate.

Sigil hung back, following more slowly. When the guard had shouted for the captain's attention, he'd started to answer himself, the reaction instinctive. He doubted Gideon or even Murdoch noticed, but it had left Sigil a bit shaken.

Were his memories returning? His new life as Sigil had only recently begun to feel normal to him as he developed a new store of memories and built new relationships based on the man he was now. If he were to recall what had come before, all of that progress could be destroyed, his friendships tarnished by the realities of who he'd been and what he'd done before an injury had stolen his memories.

“Sigil, are you all right?”

He realized he'd drifted to a stop halfway between the keep and the gate. He carefully schooled his features before turning to face Lady Merewen and her two companions.

“I'm fine, my lady.” He gestured toward the gate. “The guard on duty spotted one of Sir Averel's dogs headed this way. I was just waiting to learn what news he has brought.”

Merewen looked relieved. “Whatever the tidings, Gideon will be glad to finally hear something from Averel and Kane. The waiting has been hard on the rest of us, but him most of all.”

They reached the gate just as the enormous black
beast came trotting in. It immediately dropped to the ground at Gideon's feet, panting hard with its tongue hanging out of its mouth.

Lady Lavinia stared at the animal in obvious shock. “What kind of dog is that? I've never seen another like it.”

“Few have,” Sigil answered with a smile. “It's one of a pair of battle dogs owned by another of the Damned. They are Sir Averel's avatars, much like Duncan's owl and Murdoch's mountain cat.”

He noticed Lavinia flinched at his use of the word Murdoch and his four friends used to describe themselves. It was a reminder that her lover had been marked by the gods themselves, his life in their hands. It had taken Sigil himself a while to get used to the idea of men who measured their lives in centuries rather than years.

The deep rumble of Murdoch's voice caught his attention. “What does the note say? How do they fare?”

Gideon held up his hand as he read the paper that had been hidden in the dog's collar. “Averel found a position as a troubadour in a tavern in the city. He says the people speak in whispers of a terror that stalks the land, but no one dares criticize the duke openly.”

He drew a sharp breath and looked up at Murdoch, obviously shocked at what came next. “It's Kane. I'm not sure if he's brilliant or if he's taken leave of his senses.”

Merewen shifted closer to Gideon. “What's he done? Is he in danger?”

“He was fine when Averel sent this note. It seems that Kane was successful in finding a position with the duke's guard.”

Gideon's cryptic remarks had them all leaning forward, trying to see for themselves what was written on the paper that had him so flustered. Murdoch snatched it from his hands and read it for himself.

When he was done, his face mirrored the same stunned look as Gideon's. “Kane is the new captain of the duke's personal guard. How did that happen?”

Gideon moved on to the second page of Averel's
missive. “It seems Keirthan evaluates all of the men who are hired as guards. When he spotted Kane's mage mark, he took a personal interest in him.”

Lavinia paled. “Your friend is mage-marked?”

Duncan spoke for the first time. “Yes. Kane's grandfather was a powerful mage, and his magic marked Kane while he was yet a babe in his mother's womb.”

She rubbed her hands up and down her arms as if she were suddenly chilled. “Gideon, I understand why you want to spy on Ifre, but do you think it's wise to put a man with such power within his grasp?”

Now they were all frowning at her. It was easy to forget how little the Damned understood about the art of magic. It was Gideon who answered her query. “It is but a mark, Lady Lavinia, nothing more. Kane has no more love for magic than I do. He rejected his heritage long before I ever met him.”

Sigil shook his head and found himself responding. “That wouldn't matter, Gideon. Mage marks are exceedingly rare nowadays, but my personal tutor spoke of them at length. Although Kane has not used his gift, it is still there. Picture Kane's magic as a pool of water that doesn't move and serves no purpose.”

He felt the weight of everyone's stares as he continued. “But then a miller comes along to build his waterwheel and sets the water free to turn it, unlocking its potential. A mage with no scruples would have little trouble in releasing Kane's magic, with his cooperation or without it.”

“And you know this how?”

Sigil realized the three warriors now surrounded him, crowding close. While they hadn't yet gone for their weapons, he suspected it wouldn't take much to stir them into action. Foolish him. He'd forgotten that he was still a prisoner under a sentence of death. Because of his memory loss, his execution had been postponed, not canceled.

He ignored Gideon and Duncan, choosing instead to
face Murdoch. “I'm not sure. The words just came, although I have no doubt that what I said was true.”

The big man now looked more worried than angry. “Your memories are returning.”

It wasn't a question, but Sigil answered anyway. “No. At least no more than what I just said and that my rank might have been captain. Otherwise, my life still began the morning I awoke four days after the battle.”

He finally looked toward Gideon. “I swear this on my honor.”

To his relief, the captain nodded. “I believe you. If you remember anything else, especially about magic, tell me immediately. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Captain.”

Gideon stared at him for another few seconds before nodding, accepting his promise. That settled, Sigil was only too happy to steer the conversation back to the problem at hand.

“Lady Lavinia, do you agree with my analogy about Kane's magic?”

“Yes, I do.” She was clearly unhappy to be the bearer of such dark news. “I understand the benefit of having a spy in the enemy camp, Captain Gideon, but I would not leave him there one second more than absolutely necessary. The longer your friend remains, the greater the chance that Ifre will attempt to subvert Kane's magic to his own needs.”

“Thank you for your advice, my lady. I will send word of your concerns to Kane. The dog will need to rest at least until tomorrow before returning to his master.”

Sigil needed some space to breathe now that the focus was off him. “I'll take the dog and get him some food and water.”

“Thank you, Sigil. Meanwhile, Averel also included approximate numbers of the duke's forces. Now we can start making plans about how best to counter them with the troops we hope to have at our command.”

The three ladies excused themselves and headed
toward the garden as Sigil led the dog toward the stable. Before disappearing inside, he risked a look back toward the gate. Just as he feared, the Damned were staring in his direction, their expressions grim. While his past could be measured in but a few weeks, it seemed likely his future would be counted in days.

If so, all he could do was proceed as he had, trying to atone for the wrongs he couldn't even remember. He patted the dog on the head. “Come on, boy. Let's get you taken care of.”

*   *   *

Even knowing it was likely too soon, Kane had stopped at Averel's tavern to see if the dog had returned from Lady Merewen's keep. Averel's avatars were coursers, but even one of them would have trouble traveling such distance that quickly. The dog could do so if necessary, but the effort would leave the animal weakened for days to come.

Already in the middle of a performance, Averel had answered Kane's unspoken question with a quick shake of his head. Kane had lingered long enough for a drink and to listen to a few songs to avoid drawing attention to himself by leaving too soon. On his way back to the keep, he saw few people out and about.

Even the taverns seemed quiet, as if most of the locals were staying home tonight. No doubt they thought they were safer that way. Perhaps they were. Kane knew in his bones that Keirthan continued to practice his dark arts, even though he didn't appear to prey on the townspeople.

So where was he getting his victims, and who was helping him? There was no way Keirthan was working entirely on his own. If Kane found out who his accomplices were, he'd do what he could to thin their numbers before he and Averel left to rejoin Gideon and the others.

Logic said Keirthan was using servants for his predations, but the steady supply of new ones had to be coming from somewhere. If not from the city, one or more of
the nobles had to be furnishing them, the shortsighted bastards. What had the duke promised them for betraying their own people? Did they not realize that eventually Keirthan would turn on them, too? He was not the kind of man who was willing to share his power. Anyone strong enough to stand beside him would be seen as a potential rival, not an ally.

But troubling thoughts of the enemy were not the only reason that had Kane wandering the streets at such a late hour. Lady Theda's image haunted his every step. Did she think he hadn't felt the weight of her gaze following him each time their paths had crossed over the past few days?

She had questions about him, ones he had no desire to answer. He had other desires, though, ones that were inappropriate for a mere captain of the guard to be having for the widow of a duke.

And wouldn't Gideon have a good laugh over that idea? Especially after the way Kane had questioned the wisdom of his friend and leader sharing the bed of the woman they were both sworn to protect. The goddess herself had condoned the pairing, but that didn't mean she'd given all of the Damned free rein in such matters.

Regardless, his mission here was meant to be short-lived. Theda was not the sort of woman a man of honor would dally with, but the temptation was there. Rare was the person who didn't react to Kane's pale eyes and mage mark without flinching. Instead, Theda had treated him as a potential ally, even daring to touch him without fear.

The memory of the gentle brush of her fingertips against his skin remained sharp and clear even days later. It left him hungering for more of the same, which was insanity. So far he'd managed to control the urge to seek her out, but at night nothing kept his dreams of her at bay.

When he'd returned Lady Margaret to her mistress, Theda's hair had been down, tumbling in dark waves
nearly the full length of her elegant back. He could only imagine what it would be like to have that dark silk spilled across his pillow, its scent filling his senses. He'd tangle his fingers in it as she whispered sweet words to him.

But unfortunately, it was a masculine voice speaking to him now. “Captain Kane? Is everything all right?”

He looked up, just then realizing that he'd reached the door of the keep. How long had he been standing there lost in a dream world?

“I'm sorry, Corporal. Did you ask me something?”

“Sergeant Markus asked me to let you know that he'd been called into town on business. He'll return before first light.”

Meaning the sergeant and his friends were spending the night carousing in one of their favorite taverns in town. That was fine with Kane, although it might make weapons practice tough for them. He might even make sure of it.

On the other hand, the sergeant's absence made it that much safer for Kane to wander the halls of the keep without worrying about Markus spying on him.

“Thank you for relaying the message, Loman.”

When he realized the young man was standing guard by himself, he asked, “Where's your partner?”

The youth swallowed hard. “He took sick, sir. Everything is quiet, so he thought it would be all right if he left an hour early.”

He did, did he?

“Who was it? I need to know if he has something catching.”

Loman clearly didn't want to answer, but he also knew he had no choice. “It was Gart, sir. He did look poorly.”

Hungover again was more likely, but that was hardly Loman's fault. “How much longer until your relief is due?”

The guard's expression lightened as he looked past Kane. “They be here now, sir.”

“That's good. Give them your report and then get some rest.”

He clapped the young man on the shoulder and entered the keep. Inside, all appeared to be quiet, although not everyone had retired for the night. Servants clustered near the edges of the room, no doubt waiting for the few remaining nobles to seek out their beds so they could turn in for the night themselves.

He nodded at them as he passed by, ignoring the few who flicked their fingers in a pattern meant to ward off evil. Ironic that they felt that way toward the one man in the keep who was there to try to save them. He'd lived with such prejudice his entire life; most of the time he shrugged off their ignorant behavior.

But some nights, like this one, it still stung.

He continued on his tour of the hall before turning down the passage that would lead him toward the side door, which was normally kept barred after dark. A servant slept on a pallet nearby to open it if necessary.

Unusual to find it unlocked and the pallet empty. Yet another weakness in the duke's defenses. Or perhaps not. The servant, armed with a large cudgel, stepped out of the darkness behind him. As soon as he recognized Kane, he lowered his weapon back to his side.

Kane turned to face him, nodding toward the cudgel. “I was worried that the door was undefended, but I see I was wrong. What's your name?”

The servant patted his free hand with the cudgel. “Tom, sir. I'm waiting up for someone to return. No one gets by me.”

Kane grinned in approval. “I believe that. I'll leave you to it.”