Well of the Damned (38 page)

He
arose shortly before dawn and woke Daia, Calinor and Brawna, eager to
get going. Disguised as a burly warrant knight slightly different
from the burly warrant knight he used to be, Gavin led his companions
to the entrance of the old mine shaft in the south district of
Ambryce.

Homes
and shops surrounded the mine entrance as if it were just another
building in a moderately populated neighborhood. He’d never
known it to be actively mined and suspected it had dried up many
years before he was born. The entrance had been boarded up, though
now and then, a group of mischievous boys would pull off enough wood
to create an opening large enough to wriggle through.

That
stopped when one of them fell and broke a leg, requiring the lordover
to organize a rescue. From that day on, anyone caught tampering with
the barricade was guilty of trespassing and imprisoned. Years ago, he
caught two adolescent boys trying to sneak in, but he hadn’t
the heart to arrest or brand them. A harsh reprimand from a huge,
scarred warrant knight was usually enough to make a young boy think
twice next time he was tempted into mischief.

It
was dawn when they reached the site of the mine entrance and
dismounted. He’d been certain they would find Cirang here, but
the entrance to the shaft and the hillside it burrowed into looked
undisturbed. The boards covering the entrance were old and weathered,
nailed together haphazardly. On the sides of the shaft opening, the
boards appeared to be affixed to the hillside with mortar and nails
as thick as Gavin’s thumb. He tugged a few boards and found
them secure.

“Is
there another entrance?” he asked.

The
others shook their heads slowly, arms crossed and faces reflecting
Gavin’s disappointment.

“It
was a good guess,” Calinor said. “I was sure she’d
be in here.”

“You
there!” an armsman called, approaching on horseback. “Get
away from there. The mine shaft is off limits.”

“Awright,”
Gavin said. “We’re leaving.” He motioned with his
head for the others to mount up. “Did you patrol this area
overnight?”

The
armsman eyed him warily. “I did.”

“Did
you see a woman battler with short, dark hair?”

“No,
now move along, ’ranter.”

Gavin
was tempted to let his disguise drop and ask the armsman to repeat
himself, but others were in the area, people going about their early
morning chores, and he didn’t want someone else to accidentally
notice him, and so he let it go. He climbed into his saddle and
started north. “Let’s ask Trayev if he’s seen her
since yesterday.”

The
innkeeper at the Good Knight Inn greeted Gavin warmly and
enthusiastically with a strong left-handed handshake when he walked
in. Trayev had lost his right hand to a beyonder as a child and often
bartered his rooms in exchange for help with repairs and other labor
he and his son couldn’t manage themselves. Gavin had stayed at
this inn many times during his time as a warrant knight because of
his willingness to work for his room.

“Listen,
Trayev,” Gavin said, “we’re looking for a
swordswoman with short, black hair and thick lips. Have you seen
her?”

“Yeh,”
the innkeeper replied, “your friends there...” He pointed
at Calinor and Brawna with two fingers. “...were asking about
her last evening. She paid for a room yesterday and put up her horse,
but she was gone when we checked. Didn’t take the horse,
though, so I suspect she’s still in Ambryce. Fine warhorse,
too. Well, you’ve seen it. That buck took it, said she stole it
from him.”

Gavin nodded. “Yeh, it’s
true.” He asked Calinor, “Did you leave the white mare
you were riding?”

“No,
I didn’t want to give her an easy escape out o’town. Left
her at the lordover’s stable.”

Daia
asked, “Have you heard rumors of a horse theft?”

“None
since the woman got here,” Trayev said. “Odd that she’d
abandon the horse and leave on foot. If you’re here to ask if
she’s been back, I ha’n’t seen her, and the rooms
are just as they were.”

Gavin
clapped the innkeeper’s shoulder. “My thanks for your
help, Trayev.”

“Good
to see you again, Gavin— er, I mean, King Gavin. I’m
damned proud to know you.” Trayev offered his hand and Gavin
shook it once more.

“My
wife’ll be at the temple soon,” Gavin said.

“Brawna
and I’ll head over there now,” Calinor said. “We’ll
look for Cirang in the crowd. Just in case.”

“Awright.
I’ll see if I can spot her from above and meet you there.”

“Mind
if we leave the horses with you?” Calinor asked the innkeeper.
“There’s apt to be a big crowd.”

“Not
at all,” Trayev said. “The boy’ll keep an eye on
them.”

Brawna
nodded at Gavin before following Calinor out. Though she was shy and
quiet, there was a determination in her face that gave Gavin
confidence the young battler wouldn’t let Cirang get past her.

He
tapped into Daia’s conduit gift and lifted his mystical sight
through the ceiling and over the rooftops, though he didn’t
expect to see his escaped prisoner. Unless he found some evidence she
was still alive, he would soon be forced to give up the search for
her. From his vantage point above the city, he saw himself, Daia and
Trayev at the inn, and Calinor and Brawna walking down the street,
stopping passersby and talking to merchants on their way to the
temple, but still no sign of Cirang.

“I
don’t see her.” As much as he wanted to think Cirang had
conveniently met her end, Gavin couldn’t rest until he found
her corpse. He donned his magical disguise, choosing the wild red
hair and beard to go with a round face and green eyes. “How’s
it look?”

Trayev
laughed. “That’s remarkable! I’ve known you for
what? Five years? I’d never’ve guessed it was you. Even
your scar is gone.”

Gavin
smiled, showing the illusion of four missing teeth in front and the
rest crooked and yellowed. “It’s good, ain’t it?”

Trayev
slapped the desk with the palm of his hand. “Your teeth. Hah!
Look at ’em.”

Daia
was smiling as well. “All you need is a mouthful of tobaq and
the disguise is complete.”

“I
got some if you want it,” the innkeeper said.

Gavin
wrinkled his nose. He’d never developed a taste for the stuff,
though his papa had chewed it for years. “I only need people to
not recognize me.”

“Then
we’re ready,” Daia said. “If Cirang’s still
alive and planning an attack on Queen Feanna, we’ll find her
and stop her.”

People
had begun to gather outside the temple, though they hadn’t
formed a large crowd yet. The lordover’s men-at-arms stood near
the door, turning away would-be worshipers. In his wild red hair and
beard disguise, Gavin asked one of the men gathered what was
happening.

“They
aren’t letting anyone into the temple, but they won’t say
why. My guess is the queen’s coming to take her sacrament.”

The
advantage of being so much taller than everyone else was that he had
a good view of people. He scanned the heads, looking for Cirang’s
short, black hair. “Still don’t see her,” he told
Daia. “Let’s go stand between those two buildings so I
can look for her haze. Don’t want to stand here in the open
when the disguise drops.”

They found a place where Gavin
could look for Cirang without being noticed. From the vantage point
of his hidden eye, he didn’t find her, but he did see people in
all the nearby buildings except for one: the temple. There appeared
to be no one inside.

He
released the mystical vision and restored his disguise. “Didn’t
see her, but something’s odd. The temple looks empty to my
hidden eye. Why would it be empty if Feanna’s coming to take
her sacrament?”

“Let’s
go find out,” Daia said.

They
made their way to the temple’s front doors where they were
stopped by the two armsmen guarding the entrance.

“The
temple is closed this morning. Come back later,” one said.

“We
need to ensure the inside is secure,” Gavin said. He leaned
closer and whispered, “For the queen’s visit.”

The
two guards looked at each other. “All right,” the first
one said. “The First Royal can enter, but you’ve got to
stay out here.”

Gavin
opened his mouth to object, but Daia said, “That’ll be
fine. It’ll only need a moment.”

He
supposed he could have given himself a disguise that included the
mail and ribbons of a First Royal, like what Adro wore, but it was
too late now. He could reveal his identity to the guards to gain
entry and chance drawing the attention of the gathering crowd, or
trust Daia to handle this task without him. He trusted her
implicitly, but it annoyed him to have to wait outside and let
someone else take care of important matters like this. He supposed
that, as king, he would need to get used to delegating more tasks.

Daia
opened the door to go inside, but she stopped at the threshold,
looked down at her right hip and tried entering again. “Odd,”
she said, opening her coin pouch. She withdrew the ring with the blue
moonstone and handed it to Gavin. “Hold this for me, will you?”
After he took the ring, she entered without further incident. He
fingered

the
ring in his hand, wondering why she couldn’t go inside with it.
Magic barrier, perhaps.

Through
the open door, he saw three clerics busy lighting candles, sweeping
the floor, and straightening the benches. Daia walked up the aisle
towards them, but the door swung shut before he could see anything
else.

“You
seen a woman battler dressed as a First Royal Guard with short, black
hair?” he asked the armsmen.

They
shook their heads.

“You
seen any woman with short, black hair?”

One
armsman lifted his chin and pointed with his eyes. Gavin followed his
gaze and saw a woman matching his vague description, but it wasn’t
Cirang.

“The
one we’re looking for has thick lips, brown eyes, about this
tall.” He held his flattened hand to his upper chest,
indicating Cirang’s approximate height.

“Sorry,”
the guard said. “Doesn’t sound familiar.”

“Awright.
If you see her, don’t let her anywhere near my— I mean,
the queen. She’s a killer.”

“Dressed
as a First Royal?”

“That’s
right.”

After
several minutes, Daia came out of the temple and joined him. “She
wasn’t inside, and the clerics haven’t seen anyone
matching her description. I’m starting to believe she might
actually be dead.”

The
muscles in Gavin’s shoulders and neck relaxed. He wouldn’t
be completely satisfied until he saw her corpse. “That’s
a relief,” he said, handing her ring back. “We haven’t
asked the city custodian yet if he’s got her body. Let’s
do that next.”

Daia
lifted her chin. “Here comes Feanna’s carriage.”

Chapter 44

Feanna
exited the orphanage, surrounded by chattering children, begging her
to stay just a while longer. This visit had gone much more smoothly
than the visit to Tern’s orphanage had. The manager was not
only accommodating but seemed to have the same level of concern
regarding the children’s welfare Feanna had. They looked clean
and well fed, and they were enthusiastic, inquisitive, and playful,
as children should be. He had done wonders caring for the children
with the money he received from the Lordover Ambryce.

Each
child had his own bed — a true bed, not just a rat-infested
pallet on the floor — and small shelf upon which he kept his
belongings. There was a central playroom, where the children kept
their toys and several books.

The
kitchen, which Feanna had dreaded going to see, was clean, although
sparse. It certainly wasn’t the kitchen in the palace, but it
was suitable and she didn’t see a single insect or rodent
during any of her visits. When Feanna inquired, he winked at her and
said he had some magical talent, including the ability to drive away
pests.