Kinshield's Redemption (Book 4) (35 page)

With the Baron’s face in his mind, he thought
Baron Hexx Gnorglsht,
and whispered, “Whemorard.”

A crack appeared in the air before him, widening to display that infinite blackness that Gavin had seen last time. A booted foot stepped through, followed by the rest of him.

“Welcome to my realm, Baron,” Gavin said.

The Baron stumbled and caught himself, looking around with an expression of confusion that changed quickly to fear. His white hair looked more otherworldly here than it had in his own realm, as did his clothing—the golden trousers and short, black tunic that showed a couple inches of his hairy belly.

“You,” the Baron said. His face lost its fearful pallor and reddened. “What is the meaning of this?” He looked at the two swords pointed at his chest, at the women who held them, at the trees of the forest surrounding them. “What have you done? This... this isn’t—”

“Your realm?” Gavin asked. “No, it’s not. It’s mine, and here, you’re bound to me. Here, you’ll obey my command. Show me your hands.”

The Baron held his hands out, palms up. Daia’s ring adorned the longest finger in the middle.

“Give her back the ring you stole.”

“No, it’s mine now.” Despite his refusal, the Baron tugged the ring off and dropped it into Daia’s outstretched hand. “What? No, you cannot compel me. Who do you think you are? Give that back. I claimed it fairly.”

“There was nothing fair about it. Your wizards were trying to kill us.”

The Baron gaped at him, but only for a short moment. His expression quickly turned irate. “You invaded my home and killed a dozen of my Clout. Would you not have done the same to defend yourself had I attacked your guards?”

“I only invaded your home after you abducted my champion. Your wizards almost drained her essence.”

“If you seek retribution for the actions of my Callers, why aren’t you accusing them?”

Gavin sighed. “Not retribution. You’re here because I need your help.”

The Baron smiled haughtily. “And why would I help you?”

“Because you got no choice. Come.” Gavin walked back to Hennah, who was now quiet, watching with wary eyes.

“What the hell’s wrong with him?” Hennah asked through her gag. “He got some kind of disease?”

The Baron followed obediently, with Daia’s and Cirang’s sword tips at his back to ensure his cooperation. “How dare you? I’m not your dog to command.”

“How do you want to do this?” Daia asked.

The Baron looked at her with an annoyed snarl. “What did she say?”

“Sit him down next to her,” Gavin said, gesturing to the ground beside Hennah. “I think it’d be easier to do this if they’re close together.”

“No,” Hennah said, trying to shuffle away on her arse. “It’s probably catchy.”

“You heard him,” Daia said, pushing the Baron from behind. “Sit down.”

The Baron stumbled forward and shot her a glare over his shoulder. “Don’t touch me, filth. What kind of idiot can’t even speak properly?” He examined Hennah quickly—and she him—as he lowered himself daintily to the ground. “These clothes are too fine for sitting on dirt. You’ll compensate me for them.”

“You’re lucky I don’t take them as spoils and send you back naked,” Gavin said.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Be glad they won’t fit me.” Gavin drew Aldras Gar and replaced the summoning rune in his hand with the rune of exchange that Bahnna had crafted for him. Now came the hard part, the part where he’d finish with two dead bodies if he got this wrong. “I need to concentrate.” He closed his eyes and took hold of Daia’s conduit. The words Carthis had taught him came to mind.

“What are you doing?” the Baron asked, startling Gavin out of his concentration. “I’m a very busy man. Now, if you don’t mind, I demand you send me home.”

“If I said your life depended on you not saying another word, would you shut up?”

“Well, yes, I suppose I would, though it would ease my mind if you sent me home instead.”

Gavin sighed. “Your life depends on you shutting the hell up. Now.”

“Fine.” The Baron pressed his lips together.

“What’re you doing?” Hennah asked through her gag.

“You shut up too. I’m trying to save your life.”

He closed his eyes once more and concentrated, using his gems to refine his focus. He saw their two dark hazes. They looked identical, with the same balance of kho and zhi and the same swirl pattern. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought they belonged to the same person. The words of the enchantment came to him, and something urged him to speak them, along with the rune’s name. “Paria escamibar. Kembishyrad.”

The two hazes began to flow towards one another, like smoke through an open window. As the hazes drained from their own bodies, they also filled the other’s. This was easier and faster than the Guardians’ way of storing them into gems first, and much less time-sensitive. The process took only minutes.

“Oy! What did you do to me?” the Baron asked. “I’m dizzy.”

“It’ll pass,” Gavin said, standing.

Hennah narrowed her eyes at him. “What was that?”

“You’ll see in a minute. Awright, Baron.” He took the Baron by the arm and pulled him to his feet. “You can go home now. You’re released.”

Like before, a line of blackness opened into a hole, and the Baron was drawn into it, his face registering alarm. The hole snapped shut, and Gavin was once again alone with the three women battlers.

“Do you want to get some sleep?” Daia asked. “That must’ve been exhausting.”

It was. His whole body ached, as if he’d spent hours with every muscle clenched tight. He put the rune away, noticing that its shape was imprinted on his palm, so tightly had he gripped it. He rolled up his bedroll. “I want to get this done. I want my battler back. Let’s go to the lake. I need something to put some water in.”

“We have the leather container you used to mix the putty in,” Cirang said. She untied the knot in the rope and unwound it from around Hennah’s body. “Perhaps you can use that.”

He snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “Yes, I can.”

She retrieved the container from her knapsack and gave it to him. Gavin took it to the stream, set it on a rock, and put two cupped hands’ worth of water into the container. He set the Nal Disi into it.

“Guardians, how long will it take to leech enough essence into this water to change Hennah’s khozhi balance?”

“We would estimate four or five weeks, Emtor.”

His jaw dropped. “Weeks? What the hell?”

“You may draw some of it out,” one of the Guardians’ voices said.

“No,” said the other. “We won’t allow it.”

“One moment, Emtor, while we come to an agreement,” they said together.

Gavin paced along the stream, his feet leaving huge, overlapping prints in the soft earth. They couldn’t stop him from putting the Nal Disi in the water, and so what difference did it make whether he let the essence color the water over weeks or pull it out over a few seconds? They were just being difficult. No, he reminded himself, only one of them was, the one whose essence was kho-bent.

“You may draw enough of our essence out to treat the water for your companion,” they said. “You desire to reverse the khozhi of everyone previously affected by our essence. We wish to aid you in this. It is a small sacrifice on our part.”

“My thanks.”

He squatted in front of the container and put his hands on the Nal Disi. He saw the essence within and pulled gently, the way he had when he returned their leaked essence to the gem at the wellspring.

“That is sufficient,” they told him. “The essence in this water isn’t as concentrated as it was in the wellspring. Your companion must drink roughly a spoonful to reverse her khozhi balance.” The water now had a mystical sparkle to it, deceiving in its beauty.

He lifted the Nal Disi out and set it back in his knapsack. “Bring her over here. I don’t want to spill any o’this.”

Cirang and Daia each took one of Hennah’s arms and hauled her to her feet. The big battler struggled and screamed through the gag, fighting with everything she had. Daia reached back and pulled hard on her shackled wrists, gritting her teeth.

Hennah’s eyes went wide, and she stumbled forward. “Ow, ow, ow, Stop, you bloody trull. Owww!” Daia and Cirang forced their prisoner to her knees, and Cirang pulled the gag out of her mouth.

“Stop it,” Hennah shouted. “I’m not drinking that, you filthy bastard. You can’t make me.”

Daia pulled Hennah backwards by the hair so that she was practically lying down atop her own calves and feet. “Pour it down her nose, then.”

“She’ll drown,” Cirang said.

“No, she won’t. Some will trickle down her throat and she can cough out the rest.”

Gavin made as if to tip the container over Hennah’s face. He didn’t intend to pour the water down her nose, but if he were in her position, he’d agree to drink it rather than take that risk.

“All right,” Hennah screeched. “I’ll drink it.”

“One swallow’s all you need,” he said.

They pushed her back upright, and Gavin offered the edge of the leather bowl to her, squeezing it to form a mouth-sized lip. Cirang pinched her nose shut while Daia held her still. Hennah’s throat bobbed. When Gavin pulled the container away, they watched her with anticipation.

Her large, widely set hazel eyes changed from a hostile squint to a horrified gape. She lowered her gaze, and every muscle in her face collapsed.

He checked her haze: it was back to its natural balance. It worked. The procedure bloody worked. “By the sword of King Arek! That was it. That’s the cure.”

Gavin had what he needed to put Feanna back the way she was and save his unborn son. Relief made his hands quiver, and joy made them feel weightless. He bent his head and wiped the wetness from his eyes. His entire body began to tremble. He rose to his feet and walked out his excitement.

“Oh, my lord,” Hennah said. “I’m sorry, You Majesty. I said some rude, unkind things.” Her voice trailed off in a whisper.

“We’re glad to have you back,” Daia said, helping Hennah to her feet while Cirang unshackled her wrists.

“Glad?” Gavin asked. Though she wasn’t much shorter than he was, he wrapped his arms around Hennah’s waist, picked her up, and twirled her around. “We’re bloody thrilled!” He gave Daia and Cirang each a twirl as well, and soon everyone was laughing.

Everyone except Hennah. She hung her head. “How can you forgive me for what I’ve said?”

“Because the fault wasn’t yours,” he told her.

“It was mine,” Cirang said, “and I’m sorry.”

“It was an illness o’sorts,” Gavin said, “and now you’re cured. You can never get that sickness again. There’s something I need to know, Hennah.” He let his smile drop for this moment of seriousness, though it wasn’t easy to do. His mood was in the clouds.

“Yes, my liege,” she whispered, her head still bowed.

“Will you pledge fealty to me now, in front o’these witnesses?”

She snapped her eyes up to his. Her lips curved into a dim smile. “Yes, my king, gladly. My sword, my service, and my life are yours for as long as you’ll have me.” She went to one knee and bowed her head.

He tapped her shoulder, accepting her pledge. That was one. A hundred more to go. He measured the leftover water with his eye. There was perhaps a half-skin’s worth, and it would be good to have it available when he needed it. Plus, tied to his own knapsack, he could keep people safe from it. He drank what was left of the clean water in his waterskin, shook out the leftover droplets, and then carefully poured the remaining tainted water into it. He pushed the cork deeply into its top and tested it to be sure it wouldn’t come loose without some effort.

“We should mark that skin somehow,” Daia said, ever the cautious one. She scooped up a fingerful of dark earth near the lake’s edge.

“Having it on my back isn’t mark enough for you? Who would dare drink from the king’s waterskin without asking?”

She smiled. “Good point, but I’d still prefer to mark it.”

He held it flat while she drew a bold X across its surface. A ghostly finger ran likewise over his soul.

Chapter 46

Feanna stood in the corner of the room and listened while Edan convinced Liera, her dearest friend in the world, to conspire against her. It was the ultimate betrayal. For a moment, she considered not leaving with Kaoque after all. Once Gavin returned home, Liera would more likely than not try to seduce him—her own brother-in-law. Feanna had captured a king’s heart, not Liera, and she would be damned if she stood by while some back-stabbing traitor-whore used her tears and over-played grief to steal him from her. He was hers, and she wouldn’t let anyone else have him.

“This evening, after supper, I’ll introduce you. Perhaps by then we’ll have found Feanna,” Edan said.

“Then you won’t need me?” Liera asked.

The idea of Liera, simple, homespun Liera, pretending to be majestic, elegant Feanna was not only ludicrous, it was offensive.

“I think it’s best that you play the part of Feanna either way. We stand less of a chance of offending him. The last thing Gavin needs is to return home to find his wife has started a war.”