Kinshield's Redemption (Book 4) (15 page)

He shook his head. “Thank you, but I’ve broken my fast. I came to ensure your needs are being met.”

“Yes, of course. Ragetha, you may leave us.” She picked up a grape with two fingers and popped it into her mouth.

“The guards have orders to chaperone your visits with men,” Edan said. “Even me.”

“Goodness! So it’s true. Gavin told you I’ve turned into a monster.”

“Oh, no, Your Majesty,” Edan said. “He said no such thing. His orders were explicit but unexplained, though I’m guessing that whatever ailment afflicts you has impaired your judgment.”

She put on a sorrowful face and sat on the loveseat. “How so?”

“Well, what you said to GJ yesterday upset him greatly. He’s a child. There was no reason to burden him with the private, adult matters of his parents.”

“Goodness!” Feanna hung her head and covered her face. She shook her shoulders as if she were crying, though not a tear spilled from her eyes. “You’re right,” she said, trying to put a tremor in her voice. “I should never have told him that. I don’t know what came over me. Perhaps I truly am a monster.” She used the sleeve of her robe to pretend to blot away tears.

“No, no, my queen,” he said, sitting beside her. He put a warm hand on her back. “It was a lapse of judgment, that’s all.”

She nodded, accepting his explanation. “I was exhausted and nettlesome. It’d been a long, uncomfortable journey, and Gavin and I had argued. A kind of wickedness had come over Adro, and—well, I shouldn’t worry you with such things.”

“If it makes you feel better to tell me what happened, feel free.”

Eriska hadn’t returned yet and Ragetha hadn’t been with her in Ambryce, so she wouldn’t dispute Feanna’s version of events. “Adro kissed me,” she whispered. “Gavin misunderstood the situation and blamed me for it out of anger and jealousy. You wouldn’t think a man such as he would harbor insecurities, but he does.”

Edan grinned. “Yes, he does.”

“When I became ill and fainted, he was overcome with guilt. He blamed himself for letting Cirang get close to me. You know about his first wife and how she died, don’t you?”

He nodded, a sympathetic sorrow on his face.

Feanna grew excited. She hadn’t planned any of this, but the tale seemed to spin itself as she spoke. “I know he’s only being overprotective, but I couldn’t help feeling like he was taking his feelings of inadequacy out on me. Now I’m being locked up like a malefactor, and all because I confronted him about it. You think you know a man, but when he’s under so much pressure, he snaps.” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that.”

Edan rubbed his chin. “Tennara and Lilalian told me that Anya, Hennah and Mirrah started acting strangely after taking the sacrament and had to be put in gaol. There’s a lot of fighting in the streets and general chaos in Ambryce now because of the water—the same water you drank.”

“I drank only the tiniest sip,” she explained. “It didn’t affect me as greatly as it did the others. Thank goodness for Tennara—I was so frightened by the other guards’ sudden change in behavior, and especially Adro’s. He—-” She covered her face with both hands and twittered. She didn’t think she was terribly convincing, so she pinched herself hard, making her eyes water. “He tried to ravish me.”

“You said earlier he tried to kiss you,” Edan said.

“He did, outside the temple, but then later, at the lordover’s guesthouse, he broke into my room, tore my dress off, and pushed me onto the bed. He had such a mad look in his eye, I was afraid for my life, and so I played along, all the while praying one of my other guards would stop him, but they didn’t seem to care. I thought I heard them cheering him on, but surely I was mistaken. They wouldn’t do that, would they?” She looked up at him, blinking to dislodge one of the plump tears she’d managed to squeeze out. It rolled lazily down her cheek.

Edan shook his head. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you. I’m so sorry you went through that.”

“I’m glad to be home now,” she said.

“How’s the little one doing?” he asked.

She stared at him blankly.
The little what?

“The baby?”

“Oh!” She laughed, putting a hand on her swollen belly. She was starting to show through her normal clothes now, but unless she was bending over, she forgot it was there. “He’s fine. I expected to feel nauseated, but aside from a touch of moodiness, I feel well.” It occurred to her that it wasn’t too late to blame her behavior on the pregnancy.

“Glad to hear it. You’re fortunate.” A moment passed in awkward silence before Edan said, “I’ve received a message from Gavin.”

“Oh, when is my dear husband returning?”

“He didn’t say, but I suspect he’ll be along soon. Do you have his warrant tag?”

“Yes, he gave it to me before we were married. I’m sure it’s around somewhere.”

“He requests that I retrieve it and keep it safe.”

Well, well.
Perhaps the feelings she’d shared with him caused him to hurt someone. Maybe Daia. She waved a hand dismissively. “It’ll take me a few days to find it. I can’t remember where I put it.”

“I’ll send some servants to help you search.”

“You will not!” she snapped. In a gentler tone, she added, “I don’t care for people rummaging through my belongings. I’ll make a concerted effort to find it. I’ve little else to occupy my time here in this prison.”

“I’m sorry you see your luxurious apartment as a prison, my queen,” Edan said. “Please tell me what I can do to make you more comfortable.”

“A walk now and then,” she said. “My ankles are swelling from all the sitting. Four days in a carriage, and now I’m cooped up here like a damned chicken. Perhaps late in the evening after the children have gone to bed, since you don’t trust me with them.”

“If you don’t mind being accompanied by your guard, I can arrange it.”

She was about to agree when Edan’s assistant, Pryan, knocked on the open door and leaned into the room. “Lord Dawnpiper, the visitors have asked if Queen Feanna has arrived.”

Edan stood. “I’ll be right there.” With a crisp bow, he said, “Your Majesty.”

“What visitors?” Feanna asked, grasping his sleeve to stop him from leaving.

A blank expression crossed his face, replaced by an imperious smile. “It’s nothing that won’t wait for King Gavin.” Edan put his hand over hers and gently removed it from his arm. He strode out, leaving her glaring at his back.

She opened her mouth to hurl curses and insults at him and demand he stop, but Ragetha put a finger to her eye. Feanna took a deep, calming breath and sat back into the seat. “Ragetha, before you go, would you send Eriska in?”

Eriska knocked and entered a few minutes later. She smiled pleasantly and curtsied. “You needed me, Your Majesty?”

Feanna took a seat in front of her dressing table. “Brush out my hair, dear.”

“Of course, my queen.” Eriska unpinned Feanna’s hair and started brushing it, humming softly.

“I heard there’s a visitor to the palace today,” Feanna said. “Have you seen him?”

“Oh, yes,” she replied. “Two men. They look foreign, not only in the style of their clothing—one has thick black tattoos on his chest and arms, and the other has a ring through his bottom lip. It must be terribly painful.”

“Where are they from?”

“Rumor has it the pierced one is an emissary from Cyprindia, and the tattooed one is his champion. They don’t take meals with the family, but Lord Edan and Lord Jophet have invited them to dine with them a couple times.”

An emissary. Feanna wondered what he wanted. She’d never heard of Cyprindia and didn’t know where it was, but she didn’t want to appear completely ignorant. “How wonderful,” she said. “At which inn are they staying?”

“Lord Edan has offered them a guest room in the ruby wing, down the hall from Lord Jophet’s room.”

Feanna smiled. All the better. She would find a way to see this emissary whether Edan liked it or not, perhaps during one of her evening strolls.

Chapter 18

“Don’t,” Gavin warned, his hand twitching in anticipation of feeling the sword in his palm. “It wasn’t a threat. I don’t want to hurt you. Give me what I came for, and I’ll leave.”

Bahnna’s eyes turned to purple again, and she took two slow steps towards him. “What rune do you want?”

“It’s a rune of swapping.”

“I can craft that one, yes,” she said, “but I’ll sing for you first and take what I want. Come with me to the stream, Uckod.”

He stood his ground. He wanted to argue with her, to demand she fulfill her promise, but it was best to wait for Bahn to return. Bahn would convince her. “You won’t sing for me at all. I’ll wait for Bahn to get here.”

She trilled a loud laugh. “Do you think my complement can save you from my song? I’ll sing for you in front of the entire village.”

Footsteps ran up from behind. He turned to find Bahn, hunched over, breathing hard.

“I... am here... Emtor.” He limped to the well and drew a bucket of water, then scooped out a cupful and drank it down. He smiled at Gavin with sparkling green eyes. “Welcome back to our realm, Emtor. I’m pleased to see you again. You look strong and healthy.” To his surprise, Bahn embraced him as if they’d been lifelong friends.

Bahn looked well too, Gavin noticed. He’d put on weight, and he wore a long brown shirt that reached to his knees, not the patched and dirty loincloth he wore when they’d first met, and new sandals on his feet. “You’re looking well, too. I’m glad to see your people reunited in the village.”

“We can live together without fear once again, Emtor. We are humbled and grateful for what you have done for our realm.”

Gavin scratched an imagined itch on his temple. “Last time I was here, your complement promised to make another rune for me, whenever I wanted.”

“Yes,” Bahn said, brightening further. “You saved us from the dark one. She’ll craft it for you.”

“Yeh, well, she seems to have forgotten about her promise.”

Bahn trilled a laugh, not the raunchy laugh of his complement, but a joyful, pleasant sound. “She didn’t forget. It isn’t in her nature to express gratitude or to cooperate without resistance, but she’s prepared to craft the rune for you now.”

“Without singing?”

Bahn laughed again. “Yes, Emtor. She won’t enchant you.”

“Next time you return here, I’ll sing for you,” Bahnna said. “I’ll have my pleasure, and nothing will stop me.” The purple in her eyes deepened, and she flicked her tongue out far enough to lick her own nose.

Gavin shuddered. No one disgusted him as much as Bahnna did. “Thank you for coming back to mediate this,” he said to Bahn. “I don’t think she would’ve done it without you here.”

Bahn bowed. “I’m pleased to help you, Emtor. I hope to see you again.”

If he had to return to the midrealm, it wouldn’t be to this village. Bahnna would make good on her threat to enchant him with her song, and he had a good idea what horror that would bring: he’d be an unwilling but captive participant in a mating.

He followed Bahnna to the stream, staying several paces behind so as not to suffer her vileness up close. She was like a beyonder, without a hint of the warm, soft pleasantness of the zhi essence. He wished Bahn had come with them to the stream, but as before, when Bahnna crafted the rune of the past, Bahn remained behind, leaving Gavin to deal directly with the kho-bent Bahnna.

Finally she stopped and searched along the bank for a stone. He did the same, looking for one that was flat and smooth, small enough to fit easily in his palm. “This one will do,” Bahnna said. She rinsed it in the flow of the stream and turned it over. “Do you remember your part, Uckod?”

“Yeh. Let’s get this over with.”

“I would make the rune better if you let me sing to you first,” she said with glittering purple eyes.

“No.”

Her eyes turned yellow-orange, and she squatted by the water. “Come closer, Uckod. I can’t carve the rune with you way over there.”

Gavin took a deep breath to summon his resolve and approached, then squatted beside her. He had to hunker down so low to scoop water in both hands that he nearly toppled into the stream. He found it easier to straddle the stream in a wide squat instead.

Bahnna held the smooth gray stone in her left hand, and with her right forefinger, she drew a symbol on the rock’s surface. Gavin continually scooped water with both hands and poured it over the stone. With each scoop of water, the rock sizzled, and acrid smoke filled his nose. She drew the symbol again and again as he poured the water. Gradually, a shape appeared and darkened: two triangles adjoined at one corner with a curved line above and another below. It resembled a butterfly inside a partial circle.

When at last the lines were thick and black, she stood and offered him the rune. “Its name is kembishyrad. Don’t forget it.”

Gavin took it, weighing it in his hand. It was still warm. “Kembishyrad. Got it. You have my thanks.”

“I don’t want your thanks, Uckod.” She turned and walked away.

He shrugged. At least he had the rune he needed. He put it into his knapsack with the Nal Disi and returned to the spot where he’d been when he went through the vortex. The same brown critter was there, glaring at him with red eyes. “I’ll be gone in a snap,” he said to it. Using his hidden eye, he located the thin thread of magic that stretched from his ring and disappeared into nothingness, though he knew it connected to Daia’s in his own realm. He followed it, sensed her haze and its fiery tendril of strength, and grasped it. The vortex appeared before him, cycling endlessly through its colors. When it turned blue, he stepped into it.