Blademage Adept (The Blademage Saga Book 3) (18 page)

“This may help your condition,” Kevon winced as he held the enchanted eye-patch through the partially opened doorway to Alanna’s cabin. “It was the first thing I could think of. If we need to try something else…”

“Two things,” Alanna chuckled from the shadows beyond the threshold. “First, it works, well enough.”

“And second?” Kevon asked.

“We need to try something else.”

Her hand reached out into the torchlit hallway, and grasped Kevon by the collar. She pulled him into the darkened cabin, and closed the door.

Chapter 30

The sounds of increased activity from the morning crew goaded Kevon awake, and he called up a glowing sphere to find the candles to light.

“Ahh…” as he turned his head to look to the bedside table, the aches and pains accumulated throughout the night wakened as well. Rolling his head back to its original position, he spotted Alanna, eye-patch off, head propped up, watching him. Her tousled half-blonde, half-dark hair gave her a decidedly feline aura. The stinging sensations that prickled trails along his back seemed to echo that sentiment.

“You’re awake.”

“Yes, I…”

Alanna’s finger pressed into his lips, silencing him.

“Good.”

The assassin maneuvered through the tangled blankets. With each advance, Kevon’s aching muscles protested, but only just. Dangling locks of hair tickled his ears, and she traced a finger slowly from the tip of his chin to the center of his stomach, arching herself upward as she went, framed exquisitely in the soothing mage-light.

Her other hand produced a dagger.

Kevon’s mind convulsed. The light flickered, and his chest tightened, his heart racing faster than it had already been. He remained still, enthralled only by the continued tracing of her finger from his lower stomach to the center of hers, and beyond. The tracing slowed, and the knife shifted, pushing him to the brink of panic.

The flat of the blade touched his side, plunging the room into abrupt darkness. She dragged the knife slowly across his abdomen. With a slight shift, and a sudden
swish
of air, it was gone. A sharp
thunk
at the cabin door audible proof the blade was no longer a threat.

Alanna crouched, molding her body to his, nibbling at his ears, then his neck.

“Well,” Kevon whispered. “That’s… something else.”

Kevon emerged into the midday light battered, bruised, and elated beyond anything he’d thought possible. His first encounter with Marelle had been one of innocence and exploration. This had been a brutal combination of frustration, acceptance, and reunion. He was not completely sure what footing Alanna and he were on after last night, but he felt like it was a two day march in the right direction.

“Been looking for you!” Yusa called from the upper deck.

“I told him not to look too hard,” Reko whispered in Kevon’s ear. “You’re welcome.”

“We’re turning, and Kaleb says we’re reaching the edge of the trade winds.” Yusa waited until Kevon was beside him to continue. “Hours, at the most. He volunteered for the first shift. You… been sparring with the Stoneguard again?”

“No, Captain. Thank you for your concern,” Kevon smiled. “I’ll take the second shift.”

“Reko claims he’s going to take every other shift, to save everyone else the strain,” Yusa scowled. “Says he’ll sleep when we get there.”

“That’s a generous offer,” Kevon frowned. “And no small task. Let us know if you need any relief at all.”

“Aye, we will,” Yusa slapped Kevon on the back. “I’ll send for you just before third shift.”

Kevon closed his eyes and nodded, keeping the renewed pain in check. Opening his eyes, he maneuvered around sailors and barrels, piles of coiled rope, to the aft railing. He peered down into the wake behind the ship, contemplating the swirling blue-green water they churned steadily through. He turned his face upward, savoring the contrast between the hot sun overhead, the warm breeze following, and the cool spray that churned from below.

Something touched his arm, and he turned to see Alanna holding a bowl of gruel.

“They’re done with breakfast. This is cold, but it’ll have to do.” Alanna handed him the bowl, then sat, back to the railing, looking over the bustle of the ship’s crew.

“Thanks for bringing… me… this…” Kevon slumped to a seated position by Alanna, eyeing the apple she’d pulled from a pocket and was crunching into. He spooned a few bites of the mixture into his mouth, chewing absently.

Alanna stood, pitching the core of her meal over the side. She stretched her arms, yawned, and turned toward the steps to the main deck.

“Alanna,” Kevon spoke just above the churning ocean sounds behind them, “Are we…”

“Together?” She turned to stare at Kevon, her golden eye twinkling the sun’s reflection. “Yes. Betrothed? No.” She reached into a pocket for another apple, and tossed it to him. “Pay a little attention, you’ll never have to ask stupid questions.” She tilted her head and smiled. “Kaleb mentioned something about you being free until third shift?”

Chapter 31

“You’re sure this is the best place to land?” Kevon asked, peering at the sheer cliff face that stretched for miles on either side of the sandy beach ahead.

“Another week of hard sailing to the south, there is another port, but it’s far from the Highplain.” Yusa scratched his head. “I think.”

“A hidden town, and a winding path to the plateau above?” Martin asked.

“If Reko remembers his research correctly,” Alma shrugged. “I’ll be glad to be on land of any type, after the trip we’ve had.”

“As will I,” Kevon nodded, recalling the unseasonable storm that had tossed the ships about for the better part of three days, breaking only the night before. “And I’m sure the dwarves could use a smaller slice of sky.”

The two nearby Stoneguard turned at their mention, but laughed and made the fluttering hand gesture Kevon had come to recognize as meaning ‘too much talk’.

“The crew will remain aboard, the Mage Kaleb, two Stoneguard, and two Hunters.” Yusa announced. “There will be a similar crew complement on the other ship, but its Captain shall be in charge of both vessels in my absence. Have your gear ready. We’ll drop anchor in about ten minutes, longboats ten after that.”

“About time!” Carlo taunted, hauling on the line tossed to him, dragging one of Yusa’s longboats up on shore.

Kevon nodded, eyeing the tents set up beyond the high tide mark, and Carlo’s second in command barking orders to the scrambling soldiers.

“Second load’s coming ashore,” Carlo observed as he held open the door to the Command tent. “Mostly dwarves, and the last of our soldiers. Anneliese and her Hunters are scouting the perimeter.”

“Anneliese?” Kevon asked, stepping into the candlelit room.

“Near as I can pronounce it,” Carlo answered. “The Elder Huntmistress.”

“They’ve already reported in once,” Relaniel corrected, scratching additional detail onto the rough map lying on the small table in the center of the room. “No one for over a mile in any direction, the road is clear for two miles toward town, and it’s only an additional half mile to reach it.”

“They’re back, and gone again?” Carlo asked.

“They were scouting,” the Elven Noble answered. “Now they’re hunting.”

“Inform the mess crew,” Carlo tapped a soldier on the shoulder. “Shift them to digging cook-pits. No fish tonight.”

“You sound fairly sure of their success,” Kevon observed.

“Anneliese is many things,” Carlo replied. “Inexperienced… is not one of them,”

“Those elves are no slouches,” Yusa’s entrance trampled over the unasked question on Kevon’s lips. “They hopped out of the boat and disappeared, and by the time we unloaded it, they’re strolling back into camp with the others, and two fat deer-things.”

“The Elder Huntmistress is an artist with a blade,” Alanna added, following on Yusa’s heels. “It would seem as though she’s skinned thousands of those. I didn’t think any of them even ate meat.”

“Many elves hold to our diet even off the Isle,” Relaniel offered. “There, it is law. We sometimes eat fish if at sea for long enough. Hunters, though, often indulge in many different foods when away from home.”

“Interesting appetites, they have,” Carlo mused. “Aligned closely enough with our own, I suppose.”

Kevon’s brow furrowed as he tried to read Carlo’s expression.

“Cheer up, boy.” Carlo gave the map one last look, and shifted over to open the case that held his crossbow. He inspected the weapon, checking the tension and alignment, making sure the firing groove was smooth and unobstructed before returning it to the case. “First game we’ll have had in near a season.”

Still feeling the tug of the sea, Kevon excused himself and exited the command tent. He walked around the canvas structure, and away from shore until he felt the mental
slosh
of insistent Water magic wedge against the Earth magic that loomed in the cliffs ahead and to the North. A detachment of Carlo’s men were busy setting up another tent not far from him.

“Tent for the Magi?” he asked, moving over to the half-built structure.

“Yes, sir!” one of the soldiers snapped, bracing one of the poles with his foot as the others threaded it through the canvas tabs, and snapped the locking end into two of the other converging poles.

Kevon nodded, and walked back toward the main part of camp.
Quite the setup for the one Mage that will be using it. Reko and I are the only others that would even need to sleep that far out. Reko is not one to complain, Yusa would not allow it. Neither would Marelle, in my case.

He stopped in his tracks.
Alanna. Alanna would not allow it.

Kevon spotted his assassin talking with the Elder Huntmistress, Annaliese, as the Elven Hunters were finishing carving up their catch near the mess tent. Shallow cooking pits ablaze with driftwood circled the seaward quarter of the structure. Low hanging spits attended by soldiers were already turning slowly, the smoke and flesh smell fading in and out of the base odor of the sea.

“Yes, Carlo
is
a fine specimen of a man,” Alanna raised her voice as Kevon walked within earshot. “Though my tastes tend to run a bit younger.”

“Here is my preference,” Alanna commented, snatching Kevon’s hand and pulling him to her side as he approached. “Oh, the stories we could trade…”

“I’d rather not, dear,” Kevon’s face flushed with embarrassment. “Annaliese? Good to see you again. Carlo speaks highly of you.”

“It is well that he does. Few men hold my interest.” Anneliese’s blade flashed two more times, and she handed the two remaining portions of meat to the waiting soldiers. “My interest in you is born of my respect for Aelion, and deepened by the curious way that Carlo views you. A threat to his ingrained values, but an example of responsible power.”

“He told you that?” Kevon’s embarrassment shifted to confusion.

“Not with words,” Anneliese scoffed. “He’s too… male for that.”

“As wise as she is beautiful, don’t you think, Kevon?” Without waiting for an answer, Alanna reached a hand out to the Huntmistress’s woven hair. “Will you teach me to do this?”

“I will adjust the plait for the Highplain just before dawn,” Anneliese answered. “You may observe, if you wish.”

“We’ll have to see what the morning brings,” Alanna withdrew her hand and pressed in closer to Kevon. “It’ll take us all day to reach the top, we’ll need our rest.”

“Two days, at least, with this group,” Anneliese corrected. “Three, if there is the usual amount of
talking
.”

“All the more reason for a good start,” Alanna laughed. “You’ll see to our accommodations, then, and I’ll bring along dinner?”

Kevon nodded, glad to be free of the elf’s piercing eyes. He turned and marched off to find the crew that had been putting up tents.

Chapter 32

“Dawn’s coming.”

The whisper was followed by a sharp nibble on Kevon’s ear.

“I can see the light through the plateau.”

“I don’t see anything,” Kevon groaned, opening eyes to nothingness.

“The elves are getting up. I’m going to go play with Anneliese.”

An inappropriate squeeze, a rustling of blankets and canvas, and she was gone.

After a few long breaths, Kevon sat up and lit the interior of the tent with his Art. His sleep had been better than any since the Glimmering Isle, away from the crush of Water magic, on unmoving ground. He’d spent all night wrapped around Alanna, disturbed only when a soft cry or dream-induced spasm was loud or large enough to wake him from the sanctuary that was the curve of her neck.

“Are you ready for what today brings?” Carlo called as Kevon pushed through the tent flap into the pre-dawn bustle of camp.

“That depends on what the day decides to bring,” Kevon scowled, accepting the mug of steaming tea one of the cook staff handed him as he approached the campfire where Carlo sat. “Are you?”

“I don’t have to squeeze myself through a magic door and play hide and seek with one of the creators,” Carlo countered. “My question is the important one.”

Kevon nodded, sipping the bitter drink, taking a seat across the fire from the Commander.

“Anneliese and the other Hunters seem to think they can get us past the town ahead, if we want,” Carlo continued. “They don’t seem to think there is much of a threat there, we’d just as well walk through.”

“I’d like a local perspective on what lies above, if it’s no more dangerous than passing the town by,” Kevon shrugged. “These folk have less reason to dislike us than their neighbors to the North do.”

“We’ll leave most of our people here,” Carlo explained, handing off his empty mug to a passing soldier. “Anneliese and one of her Hunters we’ll take to handle scouting. Relaniel will insist on coming along. You, Alanna, and Yusa will be crossing over, as before. The librarian will need to come along with her books. A single Stoneguard will be enough extra muscle, but will likely not take direction from Rhysabeth-Dane.”

“Kylgren-Wode, then? He’ll help with translation, packing Rhysabeth-Dane’s research, and is no slouch with an axe.” Kevon continued after Carlo’s confirming nod. “We’ll need another Mage to reopen the portal from this side, if last time is any indication.”