The Kinshield Legacy (46 page)

“Excellent work, Warrick,” Brodas said, closing the journal. He set the fragile tome gently on his desk and gave the cover a loving pat. “Presumably they will set out first thing in the morning. Get the horses ready and have my company prepare to ride at a moment’s notice.” The time was drawing near. The excitement literally buzzed in Brodas’s ears, and it was all he could do to sit still. In a matter of hours, he would have the King’s Blood-stone in his hands.

“Warrick, I need you to watch the inn,” he said. “I know you need sleep, but to be honest, I can’t trust anyone but you and Lilalian, and she’s already at the cave.”

Warrick scrunched his mouth. “What about Cirang? She can watch the inn.”

“Lilalian’s not afraid of risk, but she has good judgment. Her captain’s wound a bit too tightly. She might confront them before they leave the city. Red isn’t back from Tern yet, but honestly I’d trust Cirang before I would Red.” Brodas put a hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “You have never let me down. Just suffer this one inconvenience, and I promise you’ll be rewarded a million times over. We both will.”

Warrick nodded. “I know. It’s all right, I’ll do it.”

“Come and get me when they leave, and we will follow behind at a safe distance.”

Chapter 54

The room with its wood-paneled walls and lacy curtains over the window, smelled of cinnamon, reminding Gavin of his grandmother’s house long ago. He would sleep well here. After removing his armor and weapons, he sat on the bed to unlace his boots and became distracted by its comfortable firmness. Lying back to sample it, his feet still on the floor, he fell asleep.

He lay that way for some time, unmoving. Eventually the grumbling of his stomach woke him. He stumbled to his feet and patted his coin purse. Satisfied that the light jingle meant he had enough to buy a meal, he shuffled out to the dark corridor. As he turned to lock his room, the door to Edan’s room opened quietly and from it emerged Daia.

“Well, well,” Gavin said in a low voice. “So that’s what all the moaning and screaming was about.”

Daia gave him a sour look as she went past him to her room. “You heard nothing of the kind. Where are you going?”

Edan stepped out of his room and looked at the two of them with raised brows.

Gavin chuckled to hide his envy and disappointment that she’d given herself to Edan. “I need to get something’ to eat.”

Edan clapped his shoulder. “I’ll go with you.”

“You’d better get some rest, Gavin,” Daia said. “Dawn will be here too soon.”

Once she’d gone into her room and closed the door behind her, Gavin grinned at Edan. “So. You finally bedded her, eh? What was she like?”

Edan scowled at him as they walked to the door at the end of the corridor. “You misunderstand.”

“Come on, I been dying to know. Does she drink from the spigot?”

“Another word, Gavin, and we’ll go to blows,” Edan said with a raised finger.

Gavin had never heard such a threatening tone from Edan. Must have been truly smitten to object so strongly to a joke. “Sorry, Edan,” he said. “I forgot myself.”

As they walked to the alehouse across from the inn, Gavin looked at his friend curiously. What was it about him that had drawn Daia? Edan was strong, but not terribly muscular and barely taller than she was. Was it his handsomeness? Could it be that his hands were not so rough and calloused? Hopefully it wasn’t simply that he lacked facial scars or that he had all of his teeth.

They sat down, and for several minutes, neither of them spoke. The barmaid brought reheated salted pork and ale. While Gavin ate, he remembered Daia’s complaints about his speech and manners. Maybe she liked a man who was well-spoken. If that was all there was to it, Gavin could fix that easily enough. Spending time with Edan had taught him much.

“I know what you’re thinking, Gav, and you needn’t worry,” Edan said. “Nothing happened.”

“Nothing?” he asked.

Edan smiled at Gavin and then raised his tankard to his lips. “She cares for you.”

Gavin raised his own tankard to hide his smile, and took a long draw. “After all these years, you’re reunited with her. I could tell she was a noble from the moment I met her, and she told me she was the Lordover Tern’s daughter, but I didn’t put it together until we got to your house.”

Edan nodded. “She’s not just his daughter. She’s his heiress. Rather, she was. She hated her life. I only spent a few hours with her the night we met, but,” he paused and glanced toward the door. “I fell for her that night.”

“I remember well. You wouldn’t shut up about her for months.”

“Not months,” Edan argued.

“Months. Years, maybe. You caught her eye once before. You could do it again.”

Edan exhaled loudly. “She ran away shortly after we met. Later I heard that she’d joined the Sisterhood. I don’t think it’s a husband she wants.” He averted his gaze, picking at the nail of one hand. “I know this is a sensitive matter for you, Gav, but it’s something you need to face: you’ll need to remarry.”

Gavin nodded, hanging his head. “I know.”

They sat silently for a while, drinking their ale. A wife. The thought of it made Gavin’s stomach churn. The idea of replacing Talisha with another felt wrong. She was his wife; she would always be his wife, no matter if she were alive or dead.

He’d loved being married, and he’d chosen the most beautiful, the warmest, kindest, most entertaining woman ever born. No man had ever been luckier or more happily married than Gavin was. She was perfectly matched to him, and it was as though they shared a single mind and heart. His hope of finding another mate for his soul was dim. Yet, there was one he would consider.

Gavin sighed and put his hand to his brow. No. She wouldn’t marry him; she’d made it plain she had no interest in Gavin romantically. Edan was right. The epithet she’d chosen was evidence that her heart was in soldiering and not in housewifery. In truth, Gavin couldn’t see her hanging up her sword to don a dress and apron, nor would he want her to. He liked her exactly the way she was.

Daia pulled off the stiff corset she wore under her tunic, then pulled her shirt back on and strapped on her short sword. She leaned over Brawna’s sleeping form. Brawna breathed slowly and deeply. Her mouth dropped open, and she snored softly.

Satisfied, Daia went to the door and pressed her ear to it. Once she was sure Edan and Gavin were out of earshot, she turned the knob slowly, quietly, and opened the door just enough to see out. The hall was dark and silent. She crept to the outer door and down the two steps to the street. The city was asleep.

She kept to the shadows and between the buildings as she made her way toward the Sisterhood compound to the southwest. Gavin would kill her if he knew what she was up to, but she had some unsettled business there. Cirang had murdered JiNese and must be brought to justice.

At the northern-most end of the compound, a bit of the fencing had broken. She’d slipped detention this way during her less than fine moments as a trainee looking for excitement. In fact, it was likely a continued practice among the trainees. Never had Daia considered she would be sneaking into the compound as an outcast.

She crept across the dewy grass to the east wing of the garrison where the officers’ quarters were. The guild mistress and her captain were not required to share a room as the other women were. Hopefully Cirang did not have an overnight guest.

Daia’s mind drifted to her talk with Edan. For years, she’d wondered what had become of him. Had he married? Had he forgotten her altogether? Part of her was glad he’d done neither.

Focus, Saberheart.

She sneaked around behind what she guessed would be Cirang’s room. Surely, Lilalian had taken Aminda’s larger room and let Cirang have her old room. Daia side-stepped along the wall of the barrack and peeked around the corner. No one there. A cluster of barracks to the south hid her from view from the gatehouse. As she reached toward the door handle of Cirang’s room, she held her breath. It did not budge.

Damn it. She went around to the rear of the building. The window would have been large enough to crawl through if she’d been unconcerned about being heard, but she needed to get in without alerting Cirang. Peering through the glass, she saw Cirang’s dark hair against the white pillow.

A voice in her head warned her to abort this ridiculous plan now while she still could. No. Cirang had all but buried Daia when she stole her knife and drove it into JiNese’s back. Daia would have her vengeance and justice for JiNese too. She stooped to gather a handful of pebbles and acorns, and put them in her pocket.

She planted her boot in the crook of the tree’s lower branches and pulled herself up. She stepped up twice more and stretched her torso across the widest branch that hung over the roof of Cirang’s barrack. Pushing with her feet and pulling with her arms, she scooted across the branch. Wrapping her feet around it, she let her hip roll off to the side. She swung down and lowered herself silently to the roof, then crept to the edge just above the window.

Daia tossed a pebble. It clinked against the window and fell into the grass. She tossed a few more.

Clink. Clink. Clink-clink.

She heard stirring below her. “What the hell?” Cirang asked, her voice muffled through the roof.

Clink.

The latch on the door clicked. Daia scrambled over the roof to the front of the building. Below her, Cirang’s dark head appeared, turned first right then left. It bobbed as she went past Lilalian’s room to the corner of the building and around toward the back window.

Daia put one hand on the roof and jumped down to the ground, landing in a squat to silence her drop. She slipped into Cirang’s room and flattened herself against the inner wall. Her heart pounded.

“All right, who’s playing games? Keep it up if you want detention,” Cirang called. Daia saw her through the window, her form silhouetted against the glow of the nearly full moon.

Daia hunkered down and went to the bundle of clothing draped over a chair. The strap of Cirang’s sword hung over the chair back, and her knife lay atop the wadded clothes. She took the weapons and backed to the wall again, enjoying the idea of killing Cirang with her own blade.

The voice in her mind warned,
I have no proof it was murder
. Daia paused, suddenly unsure of her decision. What if JiNese was killed by beyonders, and Cirang put my knife in her back to make me look responsible?

No, Cirang had killed JiNese. But she needed to have proof before she put her knife to Cirang’s throat. Damn it. She had to find another way; she wouldn’t chance committing murder. Besides, Gavin needed her. Once he was king, she could bring Cirang before him for justice.

How was she going to get out of here unseen? Cirang’s footsteps crunched through the grass and gravel on the side of the barrack. She was coming.

Daia took another couple of pebbles and tossed them at the window.

Clink. Clink.

One of them bounced off the window, landed on the pillow and rolled down onto the bed sheet.
Shit!

The footsteps stopped, then turned. Cirang hurried back around to the window. “Who the hell is there, damn it?”

Daia slipped from the room and went left, down to the other end of the barrack and around the corner. She waited, her chest heaving, her back pressed flat against the wall. She held Cirang’s sword in the crook of her left arm and the knife in her right hand.

You are mad, Saberheart. Mad.
What if she were caught? Gavin would be on his own. No, she wouldn’t be discovered. Cirang hadn’t heard her.

At last, the footsteps crunched through the gravel once again and the door creaked shut. The latch clicked into place.

Daia shut her eyes and thanked Yrys for His watchful eye. She waited for a moment to see if Cirang would notice her weapons missing or the pebble on her bed and call out an alarm.
Get moving, Saberheart. Don’t wait to be caught.
She hunched down and started across the grass.

She heard shouting in the growing distance behind her, undoubtedly from Cirang’s discovery of the pebble. But Daia was beyond the fencing and moving quickly in the shadows. The exhilaration of success raced through her veins. She giggled to herself the entire way back to the Harper Lodge, and her muscles jerked with unused energy.