The Kinshield Legacy (30 page)

He snorted. “O’course. Who wouldn’t be afeared of an eight-foot bear?”

“Ho! Are you serious? You were attacked by a bear? You’re lucky to be alive.”

He nodded. “Yeh, I am.”

“Your scars are long-healed – it must have been some time ago. How did it happen?”

Gavin drew his rabbit from the fire and blew on it. “It’s about ready to eat. You better check yours. Overcooked rabbit ain’t much to get excited about.”

“Does that mean you’re not going to tell me?” She started pulling bits of meat. It didn’t taste bad, but it would have been better with salt and spice.

“Yeh.” He set his sword against a rock so that his rabbit hung in the air over the fire, then stood and grabbed the bedroll tied to his saddle. He unrolled it and spread it on the ground.

“I have a scar too,” she said to break the silence. “A big, ugly one, right here.” Daia pointed to her abdomen. She related an incident a couple years earlier in which she’d stopped to help a woman and her three children stranded by a broken wagon. With her guard down and her hands occupied as she helped a child down from the wagon, two men leapt out of the thick brush, slashing at her with their knives. Trying to protect the child in her arms, Daia took a cut across the midsection. “I thought, ‘Oh shit!’ as the knife came at me. And then I sank to my knees, trying to hold my guts in, and I realized that I didn’t want my last thought before I died to be ‘Oh shit.’”

Gavin began to laugh.

“It’s not a funny story, Gavin. The robbers used the woman as bait, and she ran off with them and my money, leaving me there to die, alone. I had to stitch my own wound.”

“Sorry, I ain’t laughing about that. In the face o’death, many people say they do a quick review o’their lives. Maybe their last thoughts are a summary o rsquo; who they’ve become and what they’ve contributed to the world. And there you are, thinking about the fact that your last thought was ‘Oh shit!’” He laughed some more, and as his laughter died, added, “I guess it’s a fitting summary for someone who has to evaluate everything, figure out what it all means.”

Daia smiled. He was right.

“Obviously that wasn’t your last thought,” he said, “so you must’ve known you weren’t going to die.”

“True. I’ve always known I would die a violent death, but not yet. There’s... something I have to do first,” she said, her voice fading to a whisper. Was this it? Helping Thendylath put a king on the throne?

Gavin snorted. “I’ll prob’ly die drunk again, with a flagon in my hand.”

“Again? What do you mean?”

“Did I say ‘again?’” he asked. Daia nodded. His eyes were glassy pools under a mirk-night sky. “Well, somethin’ happened a few years ago, and I spent a lot o’time swilling ale and spirits after that. I was lying on the floor thinking my life was over, and I died. I felt myself die. But then… I woke up. Puked myself inside out too. But the damnedest thing is: I remember dying. I would swear to it.”

“It sounds like a turning point in your life. A death of the old you, perhaps. What happened that prompted your drinking?”

“It doesn’t matter any more.”

“Did it have to do with how you lost the tooth?”

Gavin smiled, showing the gap in his teeth. “You’ll never know.”

“So many secrets. How about this: I’ll tell you anything you want to know about me, and in return, you tell me something about you.”

“Awright.” He lay on his right side on the bedroll, propped up on an elbow. “Tell me about the first time you been with a man. Who was he?” He held the sword in his left hand and picked at the rabbit with his teeth to get the last bits of meat.

Daia felt her face warm and turned away. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“You’re a virgin?” Gavin asked, his voice rising with incredulity.

“Why’s that so hard to believe?”

Gavin grinned. “I seen the way you look at me when you think I ain’t paying attention.”

“You misunderstand.”

“Come on, admit you want me.”

Daia picked up a pinecone and threw it at him, hitting him in the chest. “Lout.”

He tossed it back at her, and they soon found themselves engaged in a playful volley of forest litter. When she hit him on the forehead with a clump of what turned out to be dried scat, his eyes narrowed and he started toward her on his hands and knees. Daia was laughing so hard, she couldn’t get away. He caught her by the ankle and dragged her toward him on her buttocks.

Then he was hovering over her. Daia saw the expression in his eyes change from mock anger to curiosity, desire, intent. She stopped laughing. He started to lower himself closer.

“It’s time for sleep,” she said, rolling out from under him. She got up and untied the bedroll from her saddle, and then laid it out by the dying embers opposite Gavin and sat down.

Gavin lay back down on his own bedroll and patted the ground next to him. “Why so far away? Come sleep here. I’ll protect you from the bats.” He chuckled softly.

“You’re such a comedian.” Daia pulled a pair of trousers from her pack and rolled them up. “This is as close as I care to get.” She patted the make-shift pillow and laid her head down, then pulled the saddle blanket over her.

“You ain’t afeared o’me, are you?”

“No, but I’m not going to lay with you, either.”

He propped his head up on a palm. “Why not? You’ll like it, I promise.”

“Because I don’t feel that way about you.”

“Daia, come on. You can’t tell me there’s nothin’ between us. I know you feel an attraction, just as I do.”

She smiled. “I feel something. But it’s not what you think.”

“What is it then?”

Protectiveness, curiosity, fondness, perhaps a little apprehension – not so much about him as for him. And something else, a kind of familiarity that she couldn’t explain. She sighed. “I don’t know yet. Go to sleep, Kinshield.”

“Just one kiss.”

“No.”

She heard a sigh and some rustling, and then all was quiet for the night.

Chapter 31

“We’re being watched.”

Brawna froze in mid-squat, her hands reaching out for her knapsack. Only her eyes moved as she tried to spot the spies. “Where?” she whispered.

Enamaria chuckled. “Up. In the trees.” Moving slowly and quietly, she reached for her bow. “Think I can hit it?”

A golden-tailed hawk sat in the branches of a pine tree, watching them silently from above.

“No, don’t,” Brawna said. She stomped her foot on Enamaria’s bow, trapping it on the ground.

“Milksop.”

“Haggard.” Brawna sighed and looked up at the bright morning sky. “Last night we had bats and now a hawk. When are we going to see some humans?”

Enamaria pulled some dried meat from her satchel and tore off a chunk to share with Brawna. “We probably won’t. I’ll bet two pielars the rune solver comes the day after we leave. Whoever relieves us will get to be the heroines.”

“Don’t say that -- you’ll curse us.”

“Shhhhh!” Enamaria hissed. She cocked her head while a line formed between her eyebrows. The pop and crack of horse hooves on rock announced the arrival of a visitor. “Someone’s coming.”

Brawna’s heart pounded with excitement. They were probably just the replacements. “Are you going to make the birdcall?” she whispered.

Enamaria shook her head. “It’s too soon for our replacements to come. If they’re Sisters, they’ll make the call first. We don’t want to chance giving ourselves away.”

They hunkered down and sneaked to their lookout spot behind a burst of thick bushes, and peered down to the narrow trail below. From here, they had a good view of the cave entrance.

“Listen, I haven’t told you everything about this mission,” Enamaria whispered. “Lilalian instructed me to tell you only if we see the rune solver. You must trust me, Brawna, no matter what happens, or we’ll find ourselves in the stockade.”

Stockade? “What is it?” Brawna asked. “What are we supposed to do?”

“Just do as I say. Watch the entrance while I saddle the horses,” Enamaria whispered. “When they come out of the cave, wait for them to mount and leave, then run down there – quietly – and check the tablet. If the fourth Rune Stone’s still there, move your arms like this, back and forth; if it’s gone, raise them straight up. Got it?”

Brawna looked at the cave entrance and nodded. What could their mission be?

The approaching rider was quiet. Considering that the rune solver had kept himself secret all this time, it made sense that he would come alone. But as the sound of hooves grew louder, Brawna counted more than four feet. Someone spoke in a high voice. A woman. Was the rune solver a woman? 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” a man’s voice answered, deep and strong, carrying through the trees.

Two horses entered the clearing at the cave entrance. Brawna’s eyes flew wide when she recognized the figure of her fellow Sister and friend, Daia Saberheart. “Enamaria, it’s Daia,” Brawna whispered. “If she’s with the rune Solver—”

“Daia Saberheart’s a thief and a traitor,” Enamaria shot back. “I have my orders, and you have yours. Do it.”

Brawna turned her eyes back to the cave. This was all wrong. If Daia hadn’t returned with the guild’s money as Cirang had claimed, it must have been because she’d found the rune solver – or thought she had. Why else would she be here? Daia would probably go back to the compound and explain everything. It would turn out to be a big misunderstanding and all would be forgiven.

Chapter 32

Neither of them spoke as they dismounted and tied the reins of their horses to a tree. Daia had never been to the Rune Cave, and the anticipation of seeing the Rune Tablet thumped in her chest. She’d tried to get Gavin to talk about his experiences here, but he wouldn’t. He talked about his battles with beyonders, his run-ins with lordovers’ men-at-arms, his brother living near Saliria, how many times he’d been thrown out of taverns for brawling – anything but this place, this moment. She watched him intently as he hesitated before entering the cave. His face was drawn, his shoulders slumped. He did not want to be there.

She followed him in and paused while her eyes adjusted to the darkness. It was not a large cave; she clearly saw the tablet from where she stood.

More or less circular, it stood on edge, leaning against the cave wall from its perch on a natural stone shelf. Deeply etched into the tablet’s surface, the runes were arranged in a spiral shape. Beside three of them were round, empty holes. Near the center of the spiral two gems remained. Daia’s breath caught in her throat.

As if in a dream, she glided toward the tablet, transfixed on the gemstone in the center that King Arek had placed so long ago. She reached out and touched the King’s Blood-stone, jerking back when she felt the glassy surface. It was not meant to be handled by those such as her.

Gavin stepped up beside her. “Awe-inspiring, isn’t it?” he asked quietly.

The lump in her throat trapped her voice unspoken, so she nodded her agreement, vaguely aware that something in Gavin was different -- the way he held himself, the timbre of his voice. She took a step to the side to give him room, and he moved to stand before the tablet.

For several long moments, he stood there, unmoving. Was he waiting for something? She looked up at his face and he turned his gaze upon her. A gasp caught in her throat. The face was Gavin’s, but the eyes belonged to someone else. They looked darker now, if that was possible. No, not darker. Deeper. An ancient mirk-night sky long before the stars had ever sparked. Daia had an overwhelming urge to drop to one knee. He looked like a king.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
-dea, -dea, -dea,
his deep voice echoed in the cave.

Daia swallowed, and hoped the tears forming in her eyes wouldn’t drip down her face. Yes. No. How could she answer that? She drew a deep, shuddering breath. They had discussed it and agreed. She nodded.

He smiled at her, showing the gap in his teeth, and suddenly he looked like Gavin again – a scar-faced, foul-mouthed, over-muscled peasant with a sword. She smiled back. This had to be a dream. In what strange world could a man like him be a king?

As Gavin turned back to the tablet, his smile fell away. He cracked his knuckles, then took the tablet by its edges, flexing his big hands before settling them into place. He closed his eyes and whispered a single word: “Tayewessin.”