Sword (39 page)

Then an unbelievably loud thump came at the door. They jumped apart in a desperate rattle of armor as one of the Cassdall guards flung it open, Slade hovering nervously behind him.

"Enemy," the man gasped, winded and hanging on the doorjamb. It was a bad word to stop for breath on. "Outside, Captain—Captain. The Lord Corwynall's party is—"

She didn't stay to listen to the rest. She shoved the man and then Slade aside and sprinted for the guard hall, Annan right on her heels.

* * *

The cold in the air was so deep it drove a spike of icy pain into his chest, so Devin had the hood of his cloak wrapped around his mouth like a lady's scarf. He was well beyond caring what he looked like. He never wanted to spend another winter on this mountain. He had no idea how the Fraonir weathered it in tents, how Kyali had managed in the two years she'd spent among them.

"Not much farther!" Aileana shouted from up ahead.

She sounded far too cheerful.

"It's still
too damned far
," Devin muttered into his fur-lined cloak.

"We're nearly there," Waylen said, being close enough to have heard that last statement. The Cassdall spy was huddled in his own cloak, looking grimly determined. The healing scars on his coppery face were washed pale by the cold. "I can see the wall, which means they can see us. Someone should be out to meet us soon."

"I hope so. No, by the gods, I know so, hold on—"

Devin reached for Taireasa, found her sitting on a throne that looked much more comfortable than it actually was, listening to cases. She was sore from the chair.
Put some cushions on it,
he suggested, surprising and then embarrassing her. She shut him away in indignant outrage and he snickered, feeling like a little boy pulling braids.

"She'll send someone," he said, since Waylen was watching him sidelong.

"Useful, that," the spy grunted. "One wonders why we even need couriers with you two."

"I'm fairly sure I'd be noticed in the lowlands. Unless you're proposing to turn me into a spy, in which case I'm fairly sure you've lost your mind."

Waylen snorted. "No, my lord, I don't think you'd have much success living a subtle life. But even in the land as it is under Tuan's boot, there are still minstrels in the taverns."

Good
gods
, that was actually…

Perfect.

"You don't have to call me that," Devin said, instead of
when can I go?
He set the thought aside to mull over later, when they had found this miserable traitor and Taireasa was safe. He wasn't going anywhere until then.

And until he'd had it out with Kyali, however impossible that looked from here.

"What, ‘my lord’? I don't mind. It's what you are. I'm plain-born myself, and not sorry for it. You nobles seem like such a harried lot."

"Ah, yes, well. It's the titles that do it: who can keep them all straight?"

His wit earned him a bark of laughter, muffled in wool, that turned into a cough. Waylen hunched in the saddle, shaking, one hand pressed to his mouth. Devin was about to knee Savvys closer to make sure the spy wasn't choking, but Waylen looked up with a grin.

"I always knew you lot had it hard," he wheezed.

"You should see the clothes. Horrid."

"How
do
you sort out all that silverware at the table?"

"Easier than keeping the list of illustrious ancestors straight in your head, I promise you."

They were giggling like children now. Aileana cast a confused look back at them.

"All that bowing and scraping must be so
tiresome
…"

"…And then you're betrothed to some total stranger and you have to romance her into not hating you…"

Waylen snickered, "Actually, my lo—Devin, that last one sounds a bit dreadful."

"I'm sure it is," Devin said feelingly.

"You could probably just write her a song. Isn't that what you do?"

"Clearly you haven't heard my songs," Devin replied, and Waylen let loose that shout of mirth again, making both Aileana and Fortyn look back and wave their hands for silence, no doubt wondering why they'd been saddled with two madmen for this trip.

They rode in a companionable silence after that, and Devin decided this was someone he could share a pint of ale with. He wondered if the other Cassdalls were so easy to be around. Kinsey was just… Kinsey, shy and quiet and sharp as a honed blade, full of curiosity and wonderfully dry, subtle wit. He wasn't sure yet what to think of Annan, who saw much but said little, had a sense of humor as edged as his sword, and avoided discussions of everything but politics or war.

Waylen rode a little easier now, as though laughing had made other things hurt less. His bright gaze took in everything around them. Devin pushed his hood back, more willing to suffer the cold now that he knew he was nearly out of it. He could hear faint shouts coming from somewhere and squinted up to see a distant figure on the battlement walls waving frantically.

Then Savvys went tense under him, a hitching motion of fright.

Up ahead, Aileana and Fortyn wheeled their mounts around in perfect unison, pounding back toward them in great sprays of snow. Fortyn already had his staff untangled from the saddle ties. Aileana was stringing her bow as she rode.

"
Draw,
Devin!" Waylen snapped, all the humor gone from his voice, and ripped his sword free.

Devin was retrieving his sword when they burst from the trees to both sides, a motley band of men in armor that looked as piecemeal as it did hard-used—but for all that, there were at least ten to their four. They came in yelling and Devin was in the thick of them before he had time to turn Savvys around.

Then there was another volley of shouts from the trees to the west, and a band of their own soldiers came out riding hard. Devin reined Savvys up, trying to get out of the way. A sword flashed out at him and he ducked, raised his own, yelped when a line of fire streaked over his arm and a blow at his shoulder knocked the breath from him. The cloak made it hard to move.

Waylen ran a man through. Devin yelled, swinging the sword, trying to keep the harp case at his back from pulling him off balance. Aileana was trading shots with a bowman in a dented helm and a ragged leather vest, and Devin kicked Savvys around, ducked when the archer swung his way, struck the man in the chin with the flat of his sword, and knocked him from his horse.

Someone was screaming.

He looked up, desperately out of breath, and saw yet more soldiers ahorse racing out of the great fortress doors. The enemy saw it, too, and all the sound of fighting fell away into a shocking, ringing silence as they scattered.

It was very hard to breathe. It didn’t seem to be the cold.

"Devin, you should have—oh, gods. Oh, no."

Waylen's face was streaked with blood on one side, all his scars flaming with exertion. Around them he had gone grayish-pale. He put a hand out, got Devin's arm in a painful grip, and then turned and shouted for Aileana and Fortyn.

"I'm all right," Devin said—or tried: the words came with a terrible flare of agony in his chest. He coughed, which made it so much worse he felt himself slide sideways into Waylen's arms. The party from the fortress came down to meet them. Aileana drew close, made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a moan, and dropped her bow to fumble in her saddlebags.

"What in he—"

Kyali. Who reined her horse to a stop and just stared at him open-mouthed, her eyes wide and gold, bright as twin suns.

"Finally," Devin said, or thought he did. He went altogether sideways, the world upended itself, and then he was staring at the sky and a crowd of faces and horse legs, and the pressure in his chest was so bad everything began to seem faraway. His sister bent over him, wooden-faced, breathing hard.

"We have to get the arrow out quickly," someone said.

Arrow?
Devin wondered.

The sun went out without warning.

* * *

They came back inside in a knot of armor and cloaks and frightened faces. Taireasa flung herself forward, clumsy for the first time Kinsey could remember ever seeing. She nearly tripped. He caught her by the elbows and kept her upright, pulling her forward with him in a stumbling rush, ignoring the suspicious attention from her bodyguards.

"Thank you," she choked out before falling to her knees on the packed dirt where Devin was stretched out.

Blood, gods, so much blood.

A Fraonir girl was cutting Devin's shirt away. A boy who looked so much like her he had to be her twin was sawing with great delicacy at the shaft of the arrow jutting from under Devin's shoulder, and the Lady Captain was holding her brother down, pushing against his shoulders.

"Ky," Taireasa said, and those two met gazes in a soundless shock of warping air. It blew outward from them like an invisible brushfire, blurring everything, frightening the gathered crowd back several steps.

"We're taking it out now, Majesty."

"How bad?"

Devin groaned, arching underneath his sister’s iron grip, and they looked down at him.

"I don't know yet," Kyali said.

Kinsey knelt, not caring that there was no room for him, that he was no help here, that he was caught in a bubble of shuddering, rippling air that was snapping against his skin and making his hair stand on end. He caught Devin's hand, felt the faint pressure of fingers, and had to swallow a sob. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd wept, but he was suddenly very close to doing just that.

"Annan," he said, trusting that his captain had found this little disaster.

"My Lord Prince."

"A stretcher. An herb-woman. Have them build up the fire in Devin's room."

"Done, my Lord Prince."

Shouted orders ricocheted away from them while the Fraonir girl did something with a knife and her bare fingers and Kyali pressed her brother into the dirt, and Devin's grip grew crushing. His groan rose higher, became a scream, drowned in a dreadful choking cough. The arrow came out blessedly whole, and a rush of blood came after.

"Bad," Kyali said grimly, and Kinsey looked up at her, remembering something she'd said, the hunch of her shoulders against a dark window, firelight, magic, gods what
was
it…

I seem to be able to heal from wounds that might otherwise be mortal...

"Geas," he said.

"What?"

"
Geas
, Lady Captain. Binding you three.
He
can't, but your Gift—you may be able to—"

"
Yes
," Kyali breathed, hope breaking through that stony mask for a second. She shut her eyes, going still and calm, and put her hands to her brother's chest, against the place where blood was pulsing out. The Fraonir girl growled something and tried to push her away, but Taireasa shot a hand out, getting the girl's arm in a white-knuckled grip.

"Let her," Taireasa commanded.

Kyali's face, already pale, went white and then crumpled. She took a sudden, shuddering gasp. The air snapped and sang, pulling at hair, clothes, thoughts. Kinsey held onto Devin's hand, listening to Taireasa's fervent, mumbled praying, to the sound of footsteps running toward them.

Kyali's hands were… blurring, like the air. Golden light shivered down the backs of them, seeming to slip right out of her pores. It fell into Devin, who took a ragged gasp and twitched. Brother and sister breathed together for a long moment, the sound of it the only thing in the hall.

The air got very still. Devin's grip slackened.

Then Taireasa's voice rose into a cry of joy. She bent and pressed her head into Devin's unwounded shoulder, and Devin's hand rose to smooth over her hair.

Devin blinked up at Kinsey. "What in hell was
that
?" he asked.

Kinsey leaned back, certain for a horrifying second that he
was
going to cry, but instead he began to laugh out of sheer, stunned relief. He pressed Devin's hand, swallowing both tears and laughter, and heaved a sigh. "That was you getting arrow-shot and your sister saving your life," he said, and Kyali staggered to her feet.

She nearly fell; she seemed to be having trouble making her legs hold her weight. She held her hands out in front of her curled, like they hurt her, and took a few clumsy steps back.

"Ky?" Taireasa said, her voice muffled by Devin's shoulder.

"Get him on the stretcher," Kyali said, looking mostly at the ground between her feet.

"Oi, I can
walk
…"

"You were shot, Devin," Taireasa said, sitting up. Her hair had come partially free of the crown of braids she always wore. Kinsey tried not to stare: he'd never realized it curled so much. She darted a glance at him, felt at her head, winced. "
Shot
. In the chest. You're not walking anywhere. Don't argue. We'll follow you up. You're going to sleep."

"Fine," Devin groaned—mostly, Kinsey suspected, because soldiers were already lifting him, and the blood drained out of his face as soon as he sat upright. He pressed his fingertips to his temples, face twisting. "Dear gods, my head hurts."

Looking up at Kyali, Kinsey suspected he wasn't the only one.

As two men bore Devin past a growing crowd of the curious, Taireasa made to rise and winced again. Kinsey got to her before the nearest of her bodyguards could and pulled her up. She wobbled, flung a hand out to stay upright, clutched at his shoulder. He tried very hard not to pay attention to her touch, remembering that she had the same Gift as Saraid, only stronger. He felt himself flush.

"Oh, my head," she murmured.

"Lady—"

"
Taireasa
."

Her green eyes were filmed with tears, but she wasn't going to allow them to fall, that much was clear. A line had formed between her eyebrows. She had been through rather a lot in the last few minutes. Kinsey squeezed her hand gently and let it go. "Taireasa."

"Better," Taireasa said softly. "I'm going to sit with Devin.
On
him, if that’s what it takes to keep him in bed, and it very well may. Ky, will you—"

She looked around, but Kyali had vanished while they were helping one another stand. Her shoulders slumped. "That shouldn't surprise me anymore," she said, mostly to herself.