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Authors: Gail Z. Martin

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Epic

The Blood King (44 page)

BOOK: The Blood King
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Finally, Sakwi intervened, taking Carina’s shaking hands in his own. “You’re exhausted. There’s noth-ing more you can do tonight.”

Carina shrugged free with a glare. “There’s always more to do.”

“I’m still too spent from the spells I wove to help you.” Sakwi laid a hand on her arm. “But I can feel what you’ve done. He’s in no danger now, and he rests as comfortably as is possible. Now, you must rest.”

Unwillingly, Carina let herself be led away from the cot. Kiara gave Tris’s shoulder a squeeze in farewell, and sprang up to slip an arm around her cousin.

“I’ll take her back to our room,” Kiara said, frowning at Carina when the other began a faint protest. Carroway, too, looked ready to drop from his ordeal, and made his way to a chair by the fire.

“Astir,” Jolie summoned the vayash moru from where he stood silently by the door. “Take Jonmarc to the room I’ve readied for him upstairs. Anjela will show you. He can rest undisturbed there.”

“Someone should sit with him,” Carina said. “He shouldn’t be alone.”

“Nyall can spend the night in a chair,” Jolie decid-ed, and the river pilot made no protest. “The rest of you look worse than when you dragged yourselves out of the river. Off with you, to bed. Wake when you will. There’ll be food enough for you whenever you rise.” The others fell tiredly into line for the journey upstairs. The gaming house was silent, its patrons and its ladies asleep, and the barkeeper was just finishing up his sweeping. With all the night’s excitement, Tris doubt-ed that he would quickly find sleep, but his exhausted body decided otherwise as he stretched out on his bed, and sleep overtook him.

KIARA GUIDED HER cousin into their room like an overtired child. “Let me help you dress for bed,” she said solicitously, but Carina shook her head.

“Not yet. I need to clear my head from the work-ing.” Her voice was ragged. She hadn’t bothered to heal her own bruised cheek. The purple of the wound made the dark circles beneath her eyes more pronounced.

Kiara stooped beside the fireplace to pour a cup of hot tea from the boiling kettle Jolie’s people had readied. She pushed the warm cup into Carina’s hands, and the healer paced over to the window, looking out across the moonlit river, toward the darkness on the banks of the other side.

“Jonmarc had to know what would happen if they caught him,” Carina said after a long silence.

“He knew.”

“Then why did he come after us?” Carina turned from the window. Her hands trembled as she raised the steaming cup to her lips, and sipped the hot liq-uid like elixir.

Kiara kicked away from the wall and ambled slowly over, resting against the back of a chair. “He told Jolie it was because you saved his life, because you were his friends. Jolie tried to talk him out of it. I thought they might come to blows.”

“I might have liked to see that. I’d put my money on Jolie.”

“Not on this one. The Lady herself couldn’t have stopped him.”

Carina looked down, as if she sought the answers to her questions on the surface of her tea. “I wasn’t frightened when we went into the water. It was so cold. I knew that if we didn’t reach shore, it would be over quickly, like falling asleep. Carroway’s a strong swimmer. He pulled me out.”

“I guessed where we were when the soldiers came. But I don’t think I was frightened until the next day, after the tribunal, when the soldiers kept stopping at the stockade. I knew what they thought should be done with us, just by their gestures.” She shivered. “Some things don’t need words.”

“Carroway was frightened, but he tried to take care of me. I think we’d both given up hope. And then, when Jonmarc came…” She shook her head. “It’s my fault they captured him. If I’d kept a prop-er hold on him, he would have come through with us.”

“It was an accident,” Kiara protested. “You can’t blame yourself.”

Carina shook her head. “I tried to hold on, but we had been outside all night, still wet from the river, and my hands were too numb. Mother and Childe, Kiara, how did we ever get mixed up in this?”

Kiara laid a strong arm around her shoulders, hugging Carina tightly. “Blame the Lady. I know you’d give anything to be getting ready for the Hawthorn Moon back in Isencroft.”

“But that’s not possible, is it? If Tris doesn’t suc-ceed, we’ll never be able to celebrate like that again. I never wanted to make history, Kiara. I just want-ed to heal my patients and not worry about the rest.”

“I don’t think any of us bargained for this,” Kiara said reassuringly. “No one but the Goddess could have put together such a group of misfits. Look at the bright side. The healings you’ve worked on Jonmarc alone should qualify you to open the best healer’s school in the Winter Kingdoms.”

Carina smiled. “You may be right. But wouldn’t I have to have him stuffed and mounted to display?” Tired as she was, the absurdity of that image made her chuckle.

“I’ll remember to tell him you’ve finally found a use for him, once he wakes up.”

Carina looked away. “What’s wrong?” Kiara asked.

“I’m so afraid, Kiara. After what happened with Ric, I’ve been afraid to let Jonmarc get too close. But all day yesterday, not knowing whether we could get to him in time, I can’t pretend anymore. Goddess help me, Kiara, I love him,”

she said, tears streaming down her face. “I can’t help loving him, but I’m so afraid I’ll lose him, too.”

Kiara wrapped her arms around her cousin. “Have you noticed how often Tris starts a sentence, ‘If I live to take the throne?’ Every time he says that, I think my heart will break. But he’s right, of course. We both know the odds. This whole thing is an awful gamble—and I’m not sure I’d place bets on us.”

“Jonmarc has lost so much. I don’t know how he has the courage to try again.”

“Jonmarc is a soldier. Soldiers know better than anyone that you can’t take tomorrow for granted. All you have is today. I guess that’s all we ever have, but most of the time, we’re not aware of it. It’s not too late. Stop running away, and let him catch you.”

“Maybe I should let him recover a little, so the shock doesn’t do him in.” Carina gave Kiara a hug. She slipped out of her healer’s robes, pulled her che-mise close around her against the chill, and crawled tiredly into bed. “If I don’t get some sleep, I’ll be done in. There’s more to do before Jonmarc’s going to be able to go anywhere.”

“I’ll sit up for a while, in case you need me,” Kiara offered.

“Thank you.” Carina yawned, but she was asleep before Kiara could reply.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
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C’ARINA WOKE AT dawn. She shook her head, —-trying to separate the reality of the night before from the dreams that had made her sleep sparse and fitful. Her bare feet had hardly touched the cold floorboards before she tore her shift over her head and slipped her robes in place. Her stom-ach growled but she ignored it, intent on checking her patient.

Nyall sprawled snoring in a chair near the fire in Vahanian’s room, rousing as she entered. She motioned for him to be quiet and indicated with a jerk of her head that he was free to join the others for breakfast. Gratefully, the river pilot abandoned his post.

Carina approached Vahanian hesitantly. She and Tris had worked until exhaustion on the healing, but there had been much left undone. She drew a chair up beside the cot and looked silently at Vahanian, afraid to discover whether he slept or had not yet regained consciousness. Carina closed her eyes and stretched out her hand, running it lightly just above his face and chest to ensure that she had overlooked nothing vital. A hand locked around her wrist with an iron grip, and her eyes snapped open to find Vahanian looking at her.

“Are you dead, too?”

“I’m not dead,” she said gently. “Neither arc you. You’re at Jolie’s place. You’re safe.”

Vahanian dropped his hand, and closed his eyes. “How?” he managed with a dry mouth.

Carina fetched a glass of water from a pitcher on the nightstand and helped him sit enough to take a drink.

“Tris bent a few rules to go after you,” she said, settling him again.

“Arontala—”

“Tris managed to do it without much magic. With some help from Sakwi and Carroway.”

“The Goddess,” Vahanian murmured. “I saw—”

“You saw one of the river ghosts,” Carina explained, wetting a cloth and laying it across his forehead. She checked his bandages as she spoke, then nudged him onto his side to assure herself that the welts on his back were healing nicely.

“The rider was Tris. Sakwi managed the fog, and Carroway handled the disguise.

I wouldn’t be sur-prised if Sakwi sleeps for a week, after what we’ve put him through.”

“I didn’t think… anyone would come.”

Carina bit her lip as tears filled her eyes unbid-den. “Did you really think we’d leave you there?”

“It was too much of a risk.”

“And what you did wasn’t a risk?”

“Now we’re even,” he replied weakly. “Truce?”

“Truce.” She broke the awkward pause by stand-ing. “Well,” she said professionally, “you need to sleep. I’ll just go downstairs—”

Vahanian held out a hand to her. “Stay with me. Please.”

She moved a step closer and reached out to take his hand. He said nothing, but his whole form relaxed. Within moments, the regular pattern of his breathing told her that he was asleep. She looked down at his hand, cut and bruised from his ordeal, and beneath those wounds, older scars. Maybe we’re not quite so different after all, she thought, placing her other hand gently atop his. She settled down in the chair, resting his hand in her lap, and dozed in the warmth of the fire.

Vahanian woke with a start some candlemarks later, and Carina laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. She glimpsed fear in his eyes, enough to tell her that his sleep had been uneasy, his dreams haunted. “You’re safe. No one can harm you here.”

“Get Tris,” he said urgently. He tried to sit up, discovered his folly, and lay back again. “I have to tell him something important.”

“You need to rest.”

“This is important. Nargi… in Margolan…”

“All right. I’ll get him—if you promise not to move.”

“Promise,” Vahanian replied, his voice lacking its usual timbre. “You have my word.”

Carina found the others in the back room, ready-ing gear for the rest of the march south. Kiara and Tris were mending some leather armor that Jolie had

“found” for them. Carroway had just returned from tending the horses. Nyall made himself useful reprovisioning their packs with dried meats, fruits, and cheese, together with the other necessities they would need for the ride. Sakwi dozed in a chair near the fire, his sleep interrupted by deep coughs.

“How’s Jonmarc?” Tris asked. Kiara rose to ladle out a bowlful of warm porridge from a pot on the fire and bring it to her cousin.

“He’s awake. And I think he’s out of danger. He’ll be sore for a while, and it will probably be a few days before he’s ready to ride, but he’ll be all right after I do some more healing today.” Carroway poured a cup of steaming kerif from a kettle on the hearth for himself and brought a cup to Carina, which she accepted eagerly. “He says he has to see you, Tris. Something about Nargi in Margolan.”

Tris and Kiara exchanged worried glances. “Will it hurt anything if I go up to see him now?” Tris asked.

Carina shook her head. “Please go. I’m afraid he’ll try to drag himself down here if you don’t.”

Sakwi stirred in his chair. “I would like to hear what he has to say,” the land mage said, looking only slightly recovered. “Perhaps I can help.” Kiara gave the thin mage a hand up from his chair, but he waved off further assistance. Carina followed Tris up the stairs.

Vahanian had managed to prop himself up. In daylight, the bruises and cuts that marred his face looked as prominent as they had the night before. Only Carina’s memory of how swollen and painful they had truly been made her able to meet his eyes without wincing.

“Rough night?” Vahanian greeted them.

Tris grinned and drew up a chair next to Vahanian’s bed. “Leave it to you to give us a real challenge.”

“Thanks for getting me out of there. I didn’t think I was going to beat that one.”

Vahanian managed a wry grin. “You put on one hell of a show.”

Tris chuckled. “Too much time around Carroway. Now, what did you want to tell me so you can go back to sleep?”

“Ran into that lieutenant I told you about from the betting games. Only he’s a commander now. Might not have been in for quite such a bad time of it if he hadn’t recognized me,” Vahanian said, winc-ing. “Name’s Dorran. A real son of the Demon.

“Dorran figured on killing me, so he did some bragging. Told me he was going to salvage his mili-tary career, which my ‘escape’ back then derailed, by doing a job for the Margolan king. Something about taking troops into Margolan to put down a rebellion.” Vahanian gave a mirthless smile. “Sorry. I didn’t catch more details, but he had just walloped me on the head.”

“That’s quite enough.” Tris glanced at Kiara.

“Doesn’t do much for our odds, does it?” she said grimly.

“Sounds like even Jared might have pushed too far, if the army can’t keep the peace.”

“Maybe the army is the problem,” Kiara observed, putting one boot up on the foot of Vahanian’s bed and leaning forward onto her knee. “Maybe Ban found a good audience.”

“Nargi, marching into Margolan,” Tris repeated. “There’ll be nothing left.”

“There may be a way to stop them,” Sakwi said thoughtfully, and they turned to look at him. “I’m from Eastmark, and my travels have taken me to the palace there many times. My king has no love for the Nargi. It would be of great interest to him to know that they stood ready to invade Margolan. It’s my duty to tell him. If he were to launch an offensive, it would force the Nargi to withdraw their southern troops to guard their flank.”

“I’ll help,” Kiara added. “King Kalcen was my mother’s younger brother. They were quite close, I’m told. Let me send a letter with you, explaining the situation. He may decide he has a personal stake in not seeing me married off to Jared.”

“And how do you propose to get to Eastmark?” Vahanian asked Sakwi skeptically.

BOOK: The Blood King
12.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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