Kinshield's Redemption (Book 4) (2 page)

“Kiss your wife good-bye, Gavin,” she said. “And I want the tongue.” He was much too tall for her to kiss on the mouth without his cooperation. She tried to pull his head down towards her, but he resisted her efforts.

One of the many things he used to appreciate about Feanna was her ravenous hunger for lovemaking. She’d always been willing, no matter the time of day or her mood or plans, and she’d become pregnant almost immediately after they were wedded. Now, however, his mind filled with unwanted images of her writhing in pleasure beneath Adro Fiendsbane, the man he’d once branded for crimes of seduction and debauchery. The man he believed had turned into a decent buck. The man he’d trusted to protect his wife.

Feanna’s rounded belly pressed against him, and he wondered again if the baby growing there was his. Adro had met her before Gavin had, kissed her while accompanying her from Saliria to Tern, and claimed to have bedded her before she and Gavin were married.

He took her by the waist and moved her away. A fortnight earlier, he’d seen the tiny haze and determined that the baby was a boy. He’d even felt his son reach for him. Now, it took greater effort to see through Feanna’s ugly haze to the tiny bubble buried within. The baby’s haze seemed smaller than it had earlier, as if it were cowering in her womb. Was it recoiling from Gavin or from the ugly haze that engulfed it?

Vile loathing overtook him, so intense that his stomach lurched. For that moment, he despised that baby more than he’d ever despised anything, even a beyonder. Gavin snatched his hands back, breaking his contact with Feanna. The feeling left as suddenly as it had come.

He gripped her by the throat and shoved her against the carriage, wishing he could choke the kho out of her. “Don’t ever do that again,” he growled through clenched teeth. He glared down into Feanna’s laughing gray eyes. She thought it amusing to use her empathic gift to push that hatred into him, but it had to have been her emotion to begin with. Did she hate him or the baby? Was that why his son’s haze was cowering? Gavin’s heart shattered to think of his son developing in the toxic womb of a mother who hated him.

“You won’t hurt me,” she said. “Not as long as I’m carrying your precious heir.”

She was right. He released her, disgusted with his own weakness. Despite what she was inside, Feanna was still the queen. “You’d better hope that baby in your belly is my son,” he told her. “If there’s a way to find out through magic, I’ll learn it. If he’s not mine, I’ll put you out so fast, you won’t know what happened.” He would divorce her. It was a shameful thing, divorce, but better by far than raising his disloyal queen’s bastard. “In the meantime, I suggest you begin treating me with more respect.”

“Or else what?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Or else you’ll suffer a punishment unbecoming a queen.”

A sly smile curved her lips. “Will you spank me? I might enjoy that.”

“Don’t test me.” He pulled her back to let the footman open the carriage door and assist her aboard.

“This baby is yours, Gavin,” she said through the open window as she settled onto the seat. “I suggest you begin treating
me
with more respect. All it takes is a nasty tumble for your treasured prince to be born with some terrible affliction.”

He lunged at the carriage and tried to reach inside to grab her, to haul her face close to his own and threaten her with his wrath, but she leaned away from his groping hand. “If I even suspect you’ve hurt my son—”

“You’ll do what?” Feanna laughed. “You can’t intimidate me, Gavin Kinshield. I know what you are beneath the invisible crown atop your head: a stupid ’ranter. I’m far more clever than you are. I’m Thendylath’s beloved queen, trudging through alleys in the pouring rain to save wet, dirty, orphaned children while the aloof king sits warm and comfortable in the palace and hands out mere morsels to people who line up to beg.”

That had a ring of truth to it, he realized. Did people see him as aloof, lazy, or stingy? No, she was goading him, trying to elicit kho-like behavior from him. That was what the kho-bent did. He stepped back and gripped his will so as not to succumb to her taunts again, no matter how tempting.

Tennara approached and bowed to him. “I’ll make sure she reaches Tern safely, my liege, and I’ll keep an eye on her once we’ve arrived.” Daia handed her the letter addressed to Edan, and she put it into her knapsack.

“You’ve got my leave to handle her as you see fit during the journey,” Gavin told her. “Do you have the shackles?” At the battler’s nod, he said, “Use them if you must. And if you need to gag her for a moment’s peace, then do it.”

Daia withdrew a wooden gargoyle carving from her satchel and offered it to Tennara. The two black onyxes set into its eye sockets contained magic that turned the gargoyle into a protector for whatever wooden object its owner set it upon. “If you need to lock her into the carriage, use this.”

“My thanks,” Tennara said.

Lilalian approached, leading her horse by the reins. Her short, blond hair had been combed straight back from her face, but the breeze blew a few strands out of position. “Don’t worry about us, my liege. We’ll manage.”

Feanna had traveled to Ambryce with six guards, but Adro, Anya, Hennah, and Mirrah had been corrupted by the well water. They were in gaol and wouldn’t be returning to Tern until Gavin had time to arrange for their secure travel. “Your job won’t be pleasant or easy,” he said. “There’ll be a bonus for you when I get back.”

Brawna came to him, leading her own horse. “Are you sure you won’t need me with you, King Gavin?”

As much as he’d have liked to keep Brawna and Calinor with him to assist with his task, he needed them to get his wife safely to Tern. Though the beyonders were gone, brigands had become bolder, attacking and robbing travelers unguarded by a warrant knight. They were generally in teams of two or three, but occasionally a pack of four or five hid in wait for the unwary. Two guards for his queen were insufficient, and the lordover needed every one of his armsmen to maintain peace in Ambryce and arrest the now kho-bent citizens who’d also taken the sacrament, as Feanna had. It was only a matter of time before they would start brawling or stealing or, worse, killing.

With Daia’s mystical conduit, his enchanted sword, and his own magic, Gavin was completely safe from any dangers a contingent of guards would shield him from. It was the supernatural hazards of what lay ahead that concerned him.

Gavin watched his wife’s caravan depart for Tern, glad he wouldn’t have to suffer her company for a few days and ashamed of being glad. He loosed the shudder he’d reined in, letting the memory of Feanna’s vileness ripple down his arms and spine. Shooting Cirang a resentful glare, he told her to bring the horses. He burned his gaze into her as she hurried to the stable. Because of her, his wife was gone and his unborn son was either lost along with her or suffering the horror of being imprisoned within a monster.

And still, everything sat upon his own shoulders.

The Lordover Ambryce, Efre Nasiri, a young man impeccably dressed in fashionably tight breeches and high-heeled shoes, hurried over. “Oh, dear. I’ve missed her. I meant to thank the queen for her visit to our fair city and wish her a pleasant journey home.”

Gavin smirked, certain the lordover had timed his arrival so that he wouldn’t have to suffer Feanna’s foul manners again. “Sorry about last evening,” he said.

The lordover had insisted on dining with the king and queen the previous night, despite Gavin explaining about the contaminated water in the temple and the effect it had on the dozens who’d drunk it. Efre witnessed that effect clearly for himself when Feanna threw a handful of buttered turnips in his face, asking how dare he feed such a foul vegetable to the queen. Gavin had spent the rest of the evening apologizing for her behavior, but he had tried to politely decline. Now the lordover knew why he’d wanted to shut the queen away until he bustled her out of town.

“Oh, Your Majesty, please don’t give it another thought. I should have asked her preferences before my cooks began preparing. The fault is my own.”

He thanked the Lordover Ambryce for his generous hospitality and for the water in their skins and the food in their satchels.

“I’m sorry to see you go so soon, my lord king,” the lordover said, “but I understand the urgency of the task before you. Can I offer any assistance? A mason to help repair the leak? Perhaps a guard or two?”

Gavin shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, but your mason gave me a mix of sand and other crap to make a putty. I just got to add water when we get there. If it doesn’t work, I might need to send for him, but he’s done what he can for now.” He hadn’t seen the need to bring the mason along because, according to Cirang, the leak was too high and the mountain face too sheer for anyone to reach without ropes and scaffolds. Gavin would have to use magic to push the putty into it, so he only needed a mason to mix the right mortar. If that didn’t work, he’d return with an entire construction team and figure it out.

Cirang approached leading Gavin’s dappled, gray gelding, Golam, and Daia’s mare, Calie. A stable hand followed with a white mare, previously owned by the couple Cirang had murdered outside Ambryce. Cirang stood by, head bowed, waiting for Gavin’s next order. Though she dressed in Vandra’s chain armor, the blue ribbons in the sleeve had been replaced with black so that no one would mistake her for a First Royal Guard. Gavin wanted her alive for the time being, which was why he didn’t let her carry a weapon. She wouldn’t attack him, but she might try to kill herself to escape her punishment.

“Do you have something to say to the lordover before we leave?” he asked.

Cirang looked up, confusion wrinkling her brow. “My liege?”

“You left his city a horrible mess. He deserves an apology.”

“Yes, my liege. He does.” She looked briefly at the Lordover Ambryce before lowering her eyes again. “My lord, I’ve done terrible things, but few as awful as what I did to the queen and to your citizens. I don’t expect or deserve forgiveness. Please know how truly sorry I am. If it’s in my power to reverse the damage and right these people’s lives, I’ll spend every last minute of my life working to that end.”

He and Daia shook hands with the lordover and his captain and a few guards who weren’t too embarrassed to express their excitement over meeting the king. He used his magic to mask himself and Daia as an elderly couple in tattered robes. He made Cirang look like a half-bald woman with broken and rotted teeth, facial boils, and hands blackened from flesh rot. He also put a disguise on the horses, fearing that Golam might be recognized as well. With that, they set out towards the Well of the Damned to repair the leak and, hopefully, prevent any more people from suffering Feanna’s fate.

Chapter 2

“And then I speared it in the head with my sword,” nine-year-old Iriel said, thrusting with one arm as if she had a weapon in hand. “It burst open, and worms came out. Hundreds of them. They tried to eat my toes, but I squashed them like this.” She stomped her feet, but the sound was dampened by the plush rug.

“That’s quite a dream,” said Edan Dawnpiper. “Were you frightened?” When Gavin and Feanna had first left on their respective journeys, he’d been apprehensive about mealtime and bedtime with their nephews and adopted children. Gavin’s sister-in-law, Liera, was an experienced parent, but he couldn’t leave her to manage seven children on her own. Getting them to the table, the classroom, the bathtub, and bed was easy. It was what to do in the meantime.

He’d never spent much time around children and didn’t know what to say to them. What did children talk about? He quickly found that to be the least of his concerns. Iriel had a vivid imagination and enjoyed the attention. Once Tansa saw how attentive Edan was to Iriel’s stories, she began to chatter as if she were competing for a medal in who could tell a story using the most words per minute. Trevick was his usual quiet self, which didn’t bother Edan because Trevick was quiet when Feanna and Gavin were home too. Jilly had started coming out of her cocoon when she slowly realized that the beyonders really were gone forever. Her sweetness and utter adoration of Gavin was touching. He wouldn’t have said so aloud, but Jilly was his favorite of Gavin’s children.

“Sit back down, sweetheart,” Liera said. “Finish your egg.”

“At first I was, but then I remembered I was a Viragon Sister,” Iriel replied, sliding back into her seat.

“There aren’t any Viragon Sisters anymore,” GJ reminded her.

“Except me. I took a vow to uphold law and honor. Only King Gavin can release me from it.”

Galiveth of the First Royal Guard entered the dining hall and approached. The room fell silent. “Forgive my interruption, but there’s a visitor requesting an audience with the king.”

At that, Edan stood, his heart filling with dread. He knew this day would come. He’d only hoped it would be while Gavin was home and after they’d had time to build an army and have weapons and armor made for them all. “I beg your pardon, Miss Liera, children. I’ll see you again for dinner.” Edan led the way out of the room. “Is the visitor a foreigner?”