Her Knight's Quest: A Warriors of the Mist Novel (21 page)

Murdoch stared down at her with a voracious hunger in his eyes. As if she’d felt his gaze, the lady in question stopped to stare right back up at him, her hand shading her eyes from the sun.

“Have you bedded her yet?”

Gideon already knew the answer to that question, but Murdoch was immune to hints and subtlety. The only way to get through to him was to lay it all out for him in plain words.

The big man jerked as if he’d been hit. “Hold your tongue, Gideon. She’s a lady, and I will not allow you to speak of her in such a way.”

“You want her.”

Murdoch growled, his eyes narrowing. “I do, but that doesn’t make it right.”

Even knowing he was treading on the edge of a fight, Gideon continued. “She obviously wants you.”

Murdoch gave him a shove. “She’s a new widow, and her dead husband was a cruel bastard. He treated his horse better than he treated her.”

Gideon shoved back, providing his friend with a target for his frustration.

“So teach her it doesn’t have to be that way. Alina has seen the difference between you and Fagan. Certainly she would have never looked at him the way she looks at you. And don’t tell me the reason the two of you took so long to find food for Kiva was because you didn’t know where Ellie keeps the meat.”

Murdoch’s face flushed red. “Have a care for the lady’s reputation.”

Softening his voice, Gideon tried to make Murdoch understand what he was trying to tell him. “If you felt nothing for her, I would not have spoken at all. All I ask is that you think about this. The goddess herself says our cause is strengthened because my heart is involved. Why wouldn’t that be true for you as well?”

Most of the anger drained out of Murdoch’s stance. When he spoke again, his voice reflected grief, not temper. “I cannot remain here for Lady Alina. What if I left her with a child? It would destroy any chance she might have for finding another man, one who will treat her gently.”

Gideon wanted to hit his friend, but that was his own guilt speaking. Did Murdoch not realize that Gideon paced the floors at night and worried about the same things? He gave the only argument he could.

“And what if Lady Alina never finds another man she trusts to teach her that a man can be gentle?”

While Murdoch mulled that over, Gideon stared out at the grasslands. It was a view he’d come to love, the endless flowing waves of green and gold. In the distance, a band of mares stood grazing, their foals capering about with each other. For the moment, all was peaceful.

It wouldn’t stay that way.

Eventually, Keirthan would strike again, and the next attack would be worse than the last. Gideon turned back toward the keep. Down below, Lady Merewen stepped into view on the arm of Sir Gilford. The two of them paused to speak briefly as she looked around the bailey, clearly looking for Gideon. He nudged Murdoch, and the two of them started down the stairs.

From the pleased look on Merewen’s face, it appeared they might have gained some allies. He hoped so. He really did.

*  *  *

Murdoch knew his strengths; the politics of dealing with powerful men weren’t among them. He was more likely to bang heads than argue logic to get his point across. Right now, Gideon was better served having Lady Merewen at his side. And maybe that was only an excuse to veer off and go in search of Lady Alina and Shadow.

He found the pair sitting on a bench in the corner of the small herb and flower garden. Both of his ladies often enjoyed a bit of quiet in the warmth of the sun. He paused to soak in the picture they made: the dangerous cat and the gentle woman, both holding special places in his heart.

Without looking in his direction, Alina called to him. “There is room for you beside me.”

She was talking about the stone bench, but the image that filled his mind was her making room for him in her bed, in her arms, in her body. He silently cursed Gideon for putting such ideas in his head.

He walked toward her, each step taking him that much closer to temptation and perhaps his salvation. When he reached her side, Alina smiled up at him. Her sweet face reflected the heat of the sun above, melting away the damp chill of the river that had soaked into his bones.

She patted the seat next to her. “Sit by me.”

He did as she asked, as always feeling the difference in their size. Her beauty simply stole his breath away. When she slipped her hand into his and gave it a squeeze, he stared down at her fingers entwined with his.

“I can’t stay.”

Alina frowned. “But you just got here.”

Once again his lack of talent with words had him stumbling to make his meaning understood. “I’m talking about when the fighting is done. The five of us will leave. We have no choice.”

He half expected her to remove her hand. Instead, she scooted closer to him. This time she spoke in whispers. “I suspected as much. My niece has let slip a few things that made that clear. I know she is keeping track of the days until the solstice but has not said why. I would like to hear the story from you directly.”

“Are you sure? It is not a happy tale.”

“Neither is mine, but that didn’t keep you from befriending me. I would be honored if you would trust me with your truth.”

Should he? Yes, he wanted no more secrets between them. For once the words came easily. He spoke of his youth, how Gideon had saved him, and how he and the others came to be known as the Damned. When he ran out of words and breath, Alina looked up at him, her pretty eyes sparkling with tears. “Thank you for sharing this with me. It explains so much.”

Nothing had changed; yet in the telling, his mood brightened and the burden of his years grew lighter. “Thank you for listening and understanding why I cannot stay.”

“I will pray that the goddess will grant all of you peace when you stand at the river’s edge.”

“That means a great deal to me, Alina.”

The quiet of the garden settled over them again. For the moment, he was content to share this peaceful time with Alina.

After a few minutes, she drew a deep breath and sat up straighter, but she made no effort to move away from him. “Murdoch, there is a favor, a boon really, that I would ask of you.”

“Anything within my power is yours.”

Her eyes dropped to stare down at their hands, a spot of bright color staining her cheek. “Before I tell you what it is, I need to tell you a bit of my story.”

She lifted her face up toward the sky and drew a slow breath. “My father was a good man, but a poor one. My mother loved him, and they were happy together. When Lord Fagan approached my parents about courting me, my father was thrilled. He never saw beneath Fagan’s slick polish and wealth to the real man beneath. I would’ve followed my father’s wishes regardless, but in truth I was flattered that such a handsome, powerful man would be interested in me.”

“Fagan fooled more than your father, Alina. Several of the men in there talking to Gideon and Lady Merewen are having a difficult time believing your late husband’s villainy.”

She nodded. “All I wanted was a happy marriage like my parents had. But from the day Fagan and I took our vows, I forgot what it was like not to live in constant fear.”

Before he could respond, she smiled. “Thanks to you, I’ve remembered. Such moments should be cherished, because life can change dramatically between one breath and the next.”

Murdoch could only agree. “That it can.”

“So, about that favor. I understand your duty to the Lady of the River must come first. Having said that, I have strong feelings for you, ones I would like to think you have for me as well. At least it has seemed that way. I have no right to ask this of you, but I would be happy, in fact honored, if you would share your time with me in the way your captain shares his with Lady Merewen.”

Had he fallen asleep? Because he had to be dreaming. Was Lady Alina truly offering to . . . asking him to . . . He couldn’t even allow himself to think that it might be possible.

As he struggled to accept the gift she had offered him, he realized they were no longer alone. Sigil had approached but stopped a short distance away. He waited until Murdoch looked in his direction to speak.

“Lady Alina, I apologize for disturbing you, but Captain Gideon has sent me to fetch Sir Murdoch.”

Of all times. Murdoch considered ignoring the summons, but that would only bring Gideon looking for him himself. Obviously something of importance had happened. Perhaps the visiting landowners had come to their senses and decided to join the Damned in fighting Duke Keirthan’s tyranny.

“Thank you, Sigil. Tell him that I’ll join him shortly.”

He waited until Sigil bowed and retreated out of hearing. “Lady Alina, I regret that I must go.”

She nodded, still refusing to look up at him. “Of course, I understand. Please forgive my forward behavior.”

He wasn’t about to walk away, not when she thought he was using the summons as an excuse to avoid answering her.

“You misunderstand me, my lady. Gideon wouldn’t send for me for no reason, else nothing would drag me away from your side. And when we again face judgment before the goddess, leaving you will be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. If knowing all of that, you still want me, then I am yours.”

She rose to her feet, gazing up at him with such wonder in her eyes. “Truly? You will come to me tonight?”

“Truly.”

He brushed a soft kiss across the back of her hand. “Until then.”

Her smile outshone the sun. “Until then.”

Chapter 22

I
t had been three days since Ifre’s men had left. Through his connection to their talismans, he knew they’d yet to encounter their target. Soon, though. They would reach the abbey within the day.

“Then, dear sister, either you will be on your way back to me or you’ll be dead.”

He allowed himself a small chuckle. “Actually, you’ll be dead either way, but it would be such a waste of your gift for you to die on the sword of one of my men. I have such wonderful plans for you here.”

Looking around his underground chambers, he realized he was bored. Perhaps it was time to unleash another practice volley of his weapon. The last time had taken far less effort on his part. A simple command, a cup of blood, and then the right words had been enough to send forth several bursts of its power.

“So where shall I send you?” he asked as he gathered the necessary supplies. Then the perfect solution came to him. Perhaps a small greeting to his sister was in order. Before setting the attack in motion, he clasped the talisman that tied him to the captain of his guard. With enough concentration, he could see through the man’s eyes and perhaps gauge how close the troop was to the abbey.

How odd. The captain sat staring up at the crest of a tall hill. Why? Ifre didn’t pay the man to enjoy the scenery. After blinking several times, the focus improved. Ah, so that was what had captured the captain’s attention: the abbey sitting up there on the bluff. Could the timing be any more perfect?

Surely the blessings of the gods were with him. Ifre sent a mental command to the captain to hold the men there on the valley floor. A few blasts from the weapon would surely convince Lavinia to listen to reason. If not, well, then the consequences would be on her head, not his.

He began chanting while slowly pouring the cup of blood into the bowl. Finally, he added the special herbs and spices that unleashed the power and sent the balls of fire soaring across Agathia to batter the walls of the abbey. He watched through the captain’s eyes as the explosions echoed down the valley and the stone walls above shook with the impact.

*  *  *

Duncan packed the last of his personal belongings and looked around. The room was stripped bare, with nothing left to show that he’d ever been there. That was the way it should be. He hated it.

The sound of women’s voices carried across the garden, reminding him that he wasn’t alone. Right now Lady Lavinia was attempting to convince Sarra she wasn’t trying to get rid of her, that the decision to send her with Duncan was for her own safety.

Sister Joetta was in there, too. It was difficult to tell whose side she was on in the discussion. Clearly she cared deeply for the little girl and hated to see her leave. She also wanted her to be safe.

Duncan was not looking forward to riding for days with a brokenhearted little girl. Not when she’d lost her second home in only a few months. This would all be so much easier if Lavinia would listen to sense and come with them.

As one of the Damned, he understood duty, and Lavinia believed hers was to stay with the sisters. She’d promised to defend the abbey, its residents, and the library. It was a burden she wouldn’t set aside lightly. Perhaps she had the right of it.

His instincts, though, said that her motivations were based more on fear than on a driving need to prevent the books in the library falling into the wrong hands. She possessed the very gift that could counter her brother’s evil. If she were to join forces with the Damned, she could do far more to defend not only the abbey but all the people of Agathia.

The women argued still. As Duncan walked in, Lavinia threw her hands up in the air, and Joetta’s face was set in a mask of unhappiness. Sarra stood with her arms crossed over her chest, her chin thrust out in a stubborn determination not to give an inch. She shot Duncan a look meant to burn him where he stood. Clearly Lavinia had gained no ground in convincing Sarra to leave with him.

Lavinia turned her frustration in his direction. “You tell them. The only way Sarra will be safe is to go with you. They will not listen to me.”

Did she think he had all the answers? Before he could say anything, it occurred to him that two of the people in that room were able to communicate with the gods. While Sarra had no control over her gift, Lavinia most certainly did. As much as he hated magic, there was no avoiding its taint when it was the enemy’s most potent weapon.

“Lady Lavinia, why not scry? Perhaps that would provide us all with some answers.”

Her first response was to immediately stare out at the bare wall in the garden, a constant reminder of what happened the last time she’d called on the gods for guidance. He understood her hesitation, but if scrying could provide any help, the risk was worth it.

“I’ll stand with you.”

Finally, she nodded. “Sarra, please draw me a fresh pitcher of water. Hurry.”

The little girl looked from Duncan to Lavinia and back again. Sister Joetta gave her a pat on the shoulder. “Please do as you are asked.”

“Fine. I will.”

She snatched up the pitcher and charged out of the room, leaving the three adults staring at the door in silence. Finally Joetta spoke again. “I hate this for her, for all of us. I will take her with me after she brings the water. The two of us will seek out a quiet spot and practice her music. She’ll like that. I will also pray the gods will guide us all.”

Lavinia’s smile was definitely forced. “Thank you, Sister. Knowing Sarra is with you will make it easier for me to concentrate. The last time I attempted to scry, it did not go well.”

Duncan suppressed a shiver at the memory. He dreaded looking down into the depths of that bowl, but he would do it for Lavinia.

Sarra must have run all the way to the well because she was already back, leaving a steady drip of water in her wake. She practically shoved the pitcher at him.

“Thank you, Sarra.”

Joetta moved up beside her. “Come, Sarra. We will leave them now. Perhaps you would like to work on that new piece that we’ve started.”

Sarra ignored Joetta to send Lavinia a hard look. “If I leave, how will I know that you are telling me the truth about what you see?”

Joetta gasped in shock. “Sarra, apologize right now! The abbess would not lie to you.”

“She already has. She told me I would have a home here as long as I wanted one.” She turned her back, her small shoulders hunched and shaking.

“See how long that promise lasted. She can’t wait to send me away.” Sarra choked the words out between sobs.

Her pain stabbed Duncan’s heart. He caught her up in his arms and held her close. She struggled briefly before finally wrapping her arms around his neck as she soaked his shoulder with her tears. He tried to soothe her, patting her back with the palm of his hand.

When the tears finally slowed, he spoke to her again. “Sarra, we understand that you want to stay here with Lady Lavinia. So do I, but sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do because the gods ask it of us. You would be in danger if you remained here. No one expects you to like this, but we are asking that you trust us to do what’s best.”

She leaned out far enough to look him in the face. “You don’t want to leave Lady Lavinia, either?”

He wished he had thought to tell Lavinia that earlier when they were alone. She deserved to hear it privately, but he couldn’t lie to Sarra. Not about this. “No. I would stay here forever if I could.”

Sarra weighed his words for several seconds before finally nodding. “I’ll go with Sister Joetta. I’m not promising to go with you, not until Lady Lavinia sees what the gods have to tell her.”

Duncan mustered up a smile for her. “I agree to your terms.”

He kissed her forehead before setting her back down. Sister Joetta took her hand, giving him an approving smile. “Shall we see about that music, little one?”

*  *  *

Lavinia waited until the door was closed to face Duncan. He was a man of many gifts: warrior, scholar, and now comforter of young girls. She ignored the packs he’d carried in with him, not needing the reminder that their hours together were all but gone. She had a few aches left from the intensity of their earlier encounter in the library, but they would soon fade. She wished they wouldn’t; she wanted to hold on to every reminder of Duncan that she had.

Had he really meant that he wanted to stay here forever? With her or with the library? She couldn’t find the words to ask. But when he held his arms out to her, she didn’t hesitate, hoping he took as much comfort in their embrace as she did.

“Thank you for helping with Sarra.”

She felt a chuckle rumble through his chest. “The little minx drives a hard bargain. Despite her small stature, she’s both stubborn and strong.”

“That she is.”

It was time for Lavinia to be strong as well. The gods would not have given her the gift of scrying if they didn’t believe she could bear its burden.

“Shall we go outside?”

Duncan tightened his arms around her briefly before stepping back. She picked up the pitcher of water and led the way out into the garden. Duncan uncovered the bowl and made sure it was sitting level in its holder. When he was done, she stepped forward and slowly filled it with water.

Duncan assumed the position on the opposite side of the bowl as she sought the place of deep calm within her. Immediately the water smoothed to a mirror-bright surface, reflecting only the blue of the sky above. As they waited, she remained painfully aware of Duncan’s presence.

If only the gods would find it in their hearts to let him stay in her life. She’d learned early, though, that to wish for impossible things only led to pain and disappointment.

The water rippled as the first images came into focus. She and Duncan both leaned forward enough to watch. The first picture was of two men riding across the grasslands together. Duncan immediately frowned.

“What?”

“Those are two of my friends, Kane and Averel. They’ve already left Lady Merewen’s keep. I was hoping to return before they had to go.”

The image faded, flashing this time to two men standing together at the top of a wooden palisade. “Those are Gideon and Murdoch.”

This time Duncan sounded happier. Seeing his friends and fellow warriors after being separated from them had to please him. As their faces faded away, the water darkened. Her first instinct was to stop, to back away, but she remained right where she was. If the gods had more to reveal, her duty was to watch and learn.

This time there were three horses, all moving at a full gallop. The view was too distant to identify the riders.

As she strained to make out the details, the water rippled again this time. At first, the view was a familiar one. She seemed to be standing at the top of the switchback trail that led up to the abbey from the valley floor. Then, in a stomach-churning dive, she plummeted to the floor of the valley, this time to stare up at the walls of the abbey.

The attack would be difficult, leaving his men exposed the whole way up the hillside. The trail was narrow, barely as wide as a wagon, which would limit how quickly he could get his men to the top. Would an abbey have armed guards? Unlikely, but it couldn’t be counted out.

Goddess help her, she wasn’t seeing through her own eyes. Trapped in the vision, she lost herself in the mind of a man, a soldier—no, a captain, in the royal guard. The burden of Keirthan’s sigil around his neck was oddly heavy, its power a steady burn where it rested against his chest. Through the captain’s gaze, Lavinia studied the men who surrounded him, all oddly still as they stared up the hillside.

What were they waiting for? Then she knew. Through the sigil on the captain’s chest, she sensed Ifre’s distant presence. She drew back, fighting the urge to break free. If she ran now, she wouldn’t know what he was up to, what form his next attack would take.

Then it played out in the captain’s mind. Ifre was going to unleash his blood magic, aiming it in a first strike directed at the walls of the abbey. She yanked her mind free from the grasp of the vision and backed away from the bowl.

Duncan stared at her, looking puzzled. Had he seen nothing of that?

“Lavinia! What did you see?”

She couldn’t find the words, but then she didn’t need to. Not when the entire building shook with the first blow from Ifre’s attack.