The Kinshield Legacy (42 page)

Caevyan screamed. “Mama!”

Brodas returned with a knife in one hand and Talisha’s hair in the other. She walked bent over alongside him. Caevyan followed behind, her red face scrunched in a silent wail.

Gavin pushed with all his strength against the force that kept him on the floor. His arm shifted forward barely an inch.

Brodas let go of Talisha. She dropped to her knees. Caevyan ran into her arms, and they clung to each other, sobbing. “Gavin, please,” Talisha wailed.

Gavin looked into his wife’s moist blue eyes, begging her to see what lay behind his own, to see that he wasn’t able to come to her aid. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a slur of alien sounds.
I love you. I will kill him.

Brodas grabbed Gavin by the shirt collar and hauled him upright to sit against the wall, propped up lazily. “You’ll want to watch this,” he said. He turned back to Gavin’s wife and daughter. “What a beautiful family you had,” he said softly. With a casual flick, he ripped the knife against Talisha’s throat.

Blood sprayed out in a pulsing arc, drenching Talisha, Caevyan and the floor around her.

No!
Gavin screamed in his mind.
You bastard! No!

A few drops of blood landed on the toe of Gavin’s boot. Talisha clutched her neck and held Gavin’s gaze, her eyes wide.

Caevyan pulled back and looked up at her mother. A river of blood wound a path down the front of Talisha’s dress, across her bosom and swollen belly. It drenched Caevyan’s copper-colored hair, her arms, her dress. Talisha fell back and lay still.

No. This couldn’t be happening. Gavin looked up to see Brodas watching him, a smug smile on his face.

Caevyan turned around and looked at Gavin. “Papa?” she asked, her voice squeaky.

“Run to Papa,” Brodas said softly. His eyes were on Gavin rather than the child.

Caevyan pushed herself to her feet and turned toward Gavin.
No! NO!
Brodas brought the knife down in an underhanded arc, plunging it into Caevyan’s back.

She stumbled toward Gavin, her arms outstretched. Blood soaked her yellow dress. “Papa!”

Come to Papa, Baby Girl. Papa’s here.
He tried to reach for her, but only one finger twitched.

Her legs gave way and she fell, her outstretched hand landing inches from Gavin’s limp one. She reached toward him. One little finger, wet with blood, grazed his palm and went still.

No. My little girl. Caevyan, wait. I’m here, Baby. Papa’s here.

“Would you like to see what your wife would have given you?” Brodas asked.

Gavin tore his eyes away from the lifeless stare of his daughter and looked upon the monster standing over his wife’s corpse.
Please don’t. Please.
He hoped Brodas would see the pain and defeat in Gavin’s eyes and leave now, triumphant, his revenge complete.

Brodas squatted down beside Talisha’s body and plunged the knife into the top of her abdomen, then slit her belly open, working the knife back and forth. With a hard stab, he speared the tiny infant and lifted it from Talisha’s womb.

Gavin’s stomach heaved. Vomit spewed from his mouth and ran down his chin and neck.

“Congratulations, Kinshield. You would have had a son.” After tossing the impaled corpse of Gavin’s son onto Talisha’s still form, he walked up to Gavin and squatted. “Cross me again and I’ll kill every Kinshield in Thendylath and deliver their heads to you.”

“By Yrys,” Daia whispered. “I don’t know what to say.”

He shrugged in the darkness and cleared his throat to ease the tightness. Brawna sniffled and tightened her arms around him.

“I’d understand if you want to do unspeakable things to Ravenkind when we catch up to him,” Daia said.

“Kill him,” Gavin replied, his voice hoarse. “That’s the best we can hope for. Kill him afore he kills us.”

Chapter 49

They arrived in Lalorian late into the night, welcomed by a constant chorus of cricket song. Daia followed Gavin to a large estate on several acres of land. Wide lawns rolled lazily across it, dotted with several large trees. At the front of the property, a statue of a bowing servant welcomed them.

“Gavin,” Daia said, swallowing down the lump rising in her throat. “This is the lordover’s mansion.”

“Yeh. I know.”

She rubbed her moist palms on her trouser legs. What if she saw the lordover’s son? What would she say?

The guard at the gatehouse came out at their approach. “Halt and identify– Cap’n? That you?” He laughed, extending his hand. “How the hell are you?”

Gavin reached down to shake his hand. “Adrilith. Well met. You staying a step ahead of ‘em?”

“As always,” Adrilith nodded at Brawna and Daia. “Lady Sisters,” he said. “I believe everyone has retired for the night, but Lord Edan will be happy to see you at any hour.”

Lord Edan? Gavin’s friend was the lordover’s son. Daia felt lightheaded. 

“Go on up,” Adrilith said. “Knock hard. Secan will admit you. I’ll see to your horses.” Adrilith reached for Golam’s bridle and gave the horse’s thick neck a pat. “Golam, you still flirting with the ladies?”

“Yeh, the mule’s hopeless,” Gavin said,  dismounting. He caught Brawna as she climbed down. Daia dismounted and ducked under Brawna’s other arm, as much to steady herself as to support Brawna.

“Why did he call you ‘Captain’?” Daia asked as they walked toward the manor.

“I used to work in service to the lordover. I was Captain o’the Guard when I resigned. The Lordover Lalorian issued my warrant.”

“And that’s how you know his son,” Daia guessed.

“No, we met long afore that.”

At the front door, Gavin lifted the knocker and banged it several times. The metallic clang echoed in the brisk night air.

“You should have mentioned your friend was the lordover’s son,” Daia whispered. Her heart was pounding now. She didn’t get so nervous when confronted by lordovers or brigands or beyonders. Of course, she hadn’t been promised to any of those.

“Does it matter?”

Moments later the door cracked open and a squinting eye appeared below a bushy gray brow. “Secan,” Gavin said with a nod.

With a sigh, the steward opened the door and stepped back. “Could you not have come at a more reasonable hour, Master Kinshield?” he asked as the three of them stepped into the entry. His addressing Gavin as a young boy led Daia to believe that he’d known Gavin for quite some time. The steward wore a long nightshirt and a pair of leather slippers, and carried a lamp in his left hand. He squinted at the trio through his spectacles and hmphed. “Wait here, if you please,” he said. The steward set the lamp on a table and scuffled away into the darkness.

“Let’s sit you down,” Daia said. She guided Brawna into the receiving room to the right of the entry hall and let her sink into a plush chair. Gavin used the lamp to light two wall sconces, brightening the entry hall and receiving room considerably.

A small castle, the manor had high domed ceilings decorated with exquisitely carved figures of fairy-tale elven cherubs and mythical sorcerers. The furnishings came from the shops of the land’s finest craftsmen. Beneath them, a luxurious carpet of rich, thick wool stretched from one wall to the other. Daia hadn’t been inside a lordover’s manor in some time, and the immaculate luxury seemed strange to her, as though she’d stepped into a familiar dream.

“How long have you known Lord Edan?” she asked.

“Let me think... Twelve years now. He’s a nice buck. Gentlemanly. You’ll like him.”

Like him. Daia snorted.

Barefoot and dressed in gray trousers and a wrinkled white tunic, Edan Dawnpiper came directly, a broad smile on his face. “Gav!” he said, extending his hand. “Where the hell have you been, you old cur?”

He looked exactly as she remembered him: wiry build, with light brown hair and a mustache draped above an amazing smile. But now he was even more a man, and far more dashing.

Gavin gripped his friend’s hand and pulled Edan into a brotherly embrace. “Got more scars and fewer coins, but staying alive. How’ve you been?”

“Better than well, with so many blessings I’ve lost count. I see you’ve brought friends—” Edan’s eyes flew wide. “Dashielle?” he asked coming toward her.

“How now, Edan,” she replied. Her heart beat like a hundred wild horses in her chest. She cleared her throat. “It’s Daia now. Daia Saberheart.”

“What?” Gavin asked.

Edan offered his hand, warm and gentle, but rougher than most noblemen’s. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, while his deep blue eyes held hers. The hair above his lip tickled her skin. His lips were warm and moist. Daia remembered how soft they felt pressed against her own. Her knees weakened. She realized she was smiling, and her teeth were drying out. She licked her lips.

“What a genuinely pleasant surprise, my lady. I’m glad to see you fare well.” He turned to Gavin. “You didn’t tell me you knew Dash-- sorry, Daia.”

Gavin’s eyes flew wide. “You’re Dashielle Célond.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Shit,” he muttered. “Wish you’d told me that sooner.”

To Edan Daia said, “We have an injured friend and wondered if she could rest here until she regains her strength.”

“Of course.” Edan went to Brawna. “Forgive me. I’m Edan Dawnpiper,” he said, offering his hand.

She shook it limply. “Well met, my lord. I’m Brawna Beliril.”

“She’s known at the Sisterhood as Brawna the Blade,” Daia said, winking at Brawna.

“Somehow I don’t doubt it. Well met, Brawna. You’ll be safe here.” Edan looked up at Gavin. “Why don’t you two take Brawna to the dining room while I rouse the cook and have him warm something up for you.”

Edan started down the corridor, and paused, turning. He looked directly into Daia’s eyes. “Have I mentioned how wonderful it is to see you again?”

“Why, thank you, Edan,” Gavin said. “It’s wonderful to see you too.”

Daia pinched the back of Gavin’s arm. “Likewise,” she told Edan.

“So,” Gavin said with his gap-toothed smile. “You were promised to Edan.”

He knew. Daia averted her eyes. “Let’s just go eat.” She helped Brawna stand.

Gavin grinned at her as they walked, but said nothing more about it. When they reached a wide hall near the bottom of a curving staircase, he stopped. “This is it. Let me get the door,” he said as he reached for the knob.

Just as they started to enter, a booming voice called down from above, “Is that Gavin Kinshield I hear?” Daia recognized the tall, sturdy form of the Lordover Lalorian as he made his way down the stairs dressed in a blue robe and brown leather slippers. Although slightly grayer, he looked just as she remembered him: a handsome man with a square jaw and thinning light brown hair.

“My lord.” Gavin bowed. “I’m glad to see you fare well.”

When he reached the landing, the lordover shook Gavin’s hand, gripping the knight’s elbow with his free hand. “Good of you to stop by. We haven’t seen you in a few months. You’re always welcome here. You know that, don’t you, son?”

“Yes, my lord. Your hospitality’s always appreciated. May I ask for your aid for our injured friend?”

Daia shot a startled glance at Gavin. Not only did he have the ability to turn the peasant speak on and off at will, it seemed he wasn’t completely unfamiliar with the protocol of nobility, either -- although he hadn’t yet managed an introduction.

The lordover turned his gray eyes to Daia and Brawna. “Viragon Sisters.” His gaze fell to Brawna’s blood-stained clothing. “Of course. Let her rest here, Gavin. We’ll have a healer look after her. Has Edan offered you something to eat?”

“Yes, my lord,” Edan said as he joined them in the hall. “I just had to rouse the cook. May I introduce Daia Saberheart and Brawna Beliril of the Viragon Sisterhood.”

“Well met, my lord,” Daia and Brawna said together. Daia cast her eyes down as she bowed.

“Have we met before?” the lordover asked Daia. “You look familiar.”

“Briefly, my lord, a few years ago.” She studied the lordover for a sign of recognition. From the corner of her eye, she saw Gavin and Edan watching her. She hoped neither of them would give away her identity.

“Ah yes,” the lordover said, nodding. “Please allow my son to see to your needs in my stead. If you require anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”