The King's Sword (13 page)

His eyes had shone with the white light around him. She’d only seen one other person look that way before, many years ago, when she was just a child. It had frightened her then and it frightened her now.

Reaching forward, she ran a hand along Ronan’s hard cheek. He was so strong when he fought the Sledgers. But she had seen another side of the man. Yes, he’d been guarded but he’d laughed. He was not like the other who had allowed the sword to guide him. Fiona prayed he was not.

She glanced at Ula when the woman brought a small bowl of broth. Ula lifted Ronan’s head and she poured the broth into his mouth. Fiona hated the woman but she could not deny the genuine concern that reflected in those black eyes. Ula Baen cared for this blacksmith.

She watched in silence as the woman cleaned and changed the linens on his wound. It was a deep cut into his shoulder. When he’d received it, he hadn’t even flinched. He’d been too consumed with battling the Sledgers to even take notice. The blow had been meant for Ula. He’d stepped right into it. It wasn’t until he had them safely from Sledgewood that he’d finally collapsed.

“He will live,” Fiona said firmly and Ula nodded without looking at her. “When he wakes he must be told the truth. He must be warned.”

Ula’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “He is a good man who desires a simple life. He does not deserve such complications.”

“He shall find out sooner or later. If we wait…” Fiona looked down at Ronan. “He will do anything to protect those he cares for.”

“She was overtaken by Sleagan’s power. You know this, Fiona. Theora was my friend. I loved her. But you know it had to be done.”

“The sword weakens some. Others it makes them stronger.” Ula’s wrinkled hand touched Ronan’s cheek. “It is our fault he is ill. Let us join to heal him now. We shall settle our differences later.”

Fiona glanced down at the blacksmith. “Our differences are settled,” she said quietly. “He fought for us both. If he cares for you so much he’d risk his life, then I shall not hurt him by attempting to take yours again.” Ula said nothing so Fiona glanced across the camp where Keegan sat with the boy. She winced. She hadn’t meant to hurt Ronan’s young apprentice.

“He is tough. He shall be a bit sore in the morning. Nothing more,” Ula told her as if she could read her guilt.

“He was trying to protect you as well.” Fiona’s eyes dropped to Ula. “See to the boy. I shall stay with the guard,” Fiona said.

Ula hesitated for a moment, then rose and moved away.

Fiona’s gaze returned to Ronan. Sweat dotted his temples and forehead and his lips moved as if speaking. She leaned closer but still couldn’t make out the words. Dipping the cloth into the bowl of water, she laid it across his forehead as Keegan’s heavy body settled down beside hers.

“So what was it that set the Sledgers off exactly. I’ve traveled this way many times and I’ve never had so much as a tremor of trouble from them.” Keegan folded his arms as Fiona looked at him.

“Ula told me he used the sword.” Keegan lowered his voice. “It’s happened before…at the River Blanch. Stilled the power in the waters with it.”

Fiona’s head snapped up. “How?”

Keegan looked down at Ronan, “He stuck the blade into the river.” He shrugged his big shoulders. “And there is something else.”

“What?”

“My horses, Ahearn in particular, are communicating with him. I saw it with my own eyes.” Keegan shook his head. “I’ve been breeding Dulcet horses for ten years. I’ve never seen anything like it before.” Fiona watched him shrug again.

“Why haven’t you told him?” Fiona took the cloth from Ronan’s head and dipped it into the cool water.

“I’m a horseman, a rancher. I know horses and money. I suppose this is more your area of expertise than mine,” Keegan answered as she placed the cloth on Ronan’s head again.

“Because when he was feeling desperate and hopeless, he said so. Because when he sets his mind to something, no matter how uncomfortable he is with it, he sticks with it. Those are not the actions of a man who is out for himself. Because he has said he would risk his life for any of us. That includes me. And I believe him.” Keegan rose to his feet and without another word, walked away.

“Quite a group you travel with, Ronan Culley,” Fiona whispered, and then frowned as the blacksmith moaned in his sleep. His fingers reached for something that wasn’t there. He moaned again. Fiona frowned. He was reaching for the sword. It had begun.

* * *

Thestian walked through the corridors of Merisgale Castle. His steps were quick and echoed his urgency to find the captain of his guards. Diato was not in his own room and Thestian didn’t need to guess at which one of the maids he’d seduced that night. The image of her face found his thoughts the moment he’d murmured the question into the air.

He’d noticed Diato had a weakness for women. He recalled the words Fiona had spoken the day she and Diato fought. Her hurt had been evident and her anger could have drained the captain of his blood. But she’d stopped herself from killing him. That kind of control was admirable.

Thestian halted outside the woman’s door. No sounds came from the other side so he lifted his knuckles and rapped loudly. Then again. He was answered by mumbling and rustling of sheets. It was Diato who opened the door and Thestian frowned.

“The blacksmith has been sucked in by the power of the sword.” Thestian scowled when Diato, in his half wake, did not think to cover his nakedness. Behind him the maid sat up in the bed, rubbing her eyes.

“Fiona will not fail us.” Diato ran a hand over his face and shook as if he was trying to wake himself up. He seemed to realize he was standing there naked and turned to retrieve his robe.

“What if she finds she fancies him?” Thestian asked.

Diato turned to look back at him. “Was that in your dreams?”

Thestian could hear the instant jealousy in Diato’s voice. He wondered what the man would do if that jealousy was pushed. Would he ride out to take over the mission or would he kill the blacksmith and be done with it?

“No, but I believe he fancies her,” Thestian replied carefully.

Diato’s worry fled from his eyes as he pulled his robe on. “Many men have fancied her. And even if she did decide she liked him, it would not sway her from her mission. Serpentine warriors always follow through with what they are assigned or they die trying.”

“She is still a woman.” Thestian crossed his arms.

“That part of her is
mine
,” Diato said in a possessive but matter of fact tone. “It always has been. In the six months she was away from Merisgale, she took no lovers, had no relationship.”

“How can you be certain?” Thestian noticed Diato did not offer the maid even a smile as he grabbed up his clothes and stepped from her room, pulling the door closed behind him. He wasn’t sure what to make of the way Diato spoke of Fiona, as if she was a possession rather than a person. Men spoke of slaves in such a manner.

“Because I had someone watch her,” Diato said simply, shaking his head. “You do not have to worry about Fiona. When she fought me, her pain was still new. Her feelings still rested with me.” The wizard nodded.

“Very well.” Thestian set the pace down the corridor and Diato quickly followed. “I worry of this blacksmith. He is a decent man and does not want anything to do with the sword. But I can feel that he has bonded with the weapon.”

“You think he means to keep it?” Diato asked.

“Not yet. But I don’t know about the future. Find out what you can about his past. A man’s history usually tells of the man’s nature. If he is easily led then we may all be in danger. Until then, I shall have to rely on my instincts.” Thestian ran a hand through his hair. He’d hoped the captain would make him feel reassured. His obsession with the serpentine only made him all the more uneasy. Would Ronan Culley react as strongly toward her? Would that work in his favor or against him?

“And your dreams,” Diato added.

Thestian glanced over his shoulder with irritation. “Of course.”

* * *

“You haven’t slapped me and you are still here.” Ronan’s weak voice drifted up causing Fiona to jerk awake. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, sitting there beside him. But the night had dragged on and all the others had long lay down to rest.

“You must have it in your head to kiss me again.”

Fiona smiled but her smile faded when she saw that his condition had worsened. He was sweaty and his face was hot to the touch. She reached for the wet cloth and began wiping down his face.

“You aren’t well.” She told him, pushing at his chest and urging him to lie back down. “Even if you managed to stand you have a fever and probably couldn’t walk.”

“I could ride,” Ronan argued. “The centaur has probably already caught up with us. We can’t linger here. It’s too dangerous.”

“Then he shall have to deal with Keegan,” Fiona gave his chest a shove and reluctantly he lay down again. “Here, your witch told me to make you drink more of this if you woke up.” She reached for the bowl of broth and put it to his lips. He took a couple of swallows then turned his head, making a face. Fiona forced herself not to laugh.

“It’s disgusting.” He lifted his uninjured arm and wiped at his mouth. “Did you see what she put in it?” Fiona shook her head and urged him to drink more but he pushed the bowl away from his face. “I’ll not drink anymore until I find out,” He stated in a matter of fact tone that brought a little smile to Fiona’s lips. “I don’t remember much of what happened. Are you hurt?”

“No.” Fiona shook her head.

“Good. And Ula?” he pressed.

“She is fine. Arien is sleeping but he is only bruised a bit. I am sorry that I struck at him.” Fiona bit her lip but Ronan did not seem angry with her.

“He’s stronger than he looks.” Ronan groaned lowly, reaching to touch his shoulder. “And I am weaker I suppose.”

“Not true. You are stronger than most,” Fiona argued. “You were cut nearly to the bone. The Sledgers have claws of metal. A bit closer and she would have ripped your arm off.”

“At this rate I’ll be just a piece of a man by the time we deliver the sword in Merisgale,” he growled.

“There is something you should know,” Fiona began but was surprised when Ronan cracked a grin up at her.

“You have a monstrosity of a husband who means to bash in my head?” Ronan continued to grin as Fiona laughed. He was jesting with her again about when they met.

She looked away. “You have a fever and are chattering nonsense.”

“No. I have no fever.” He shook his head. “I just have eyes and can see. You are beautiful.”

“What of you, Ronan Culley? Do you have a woman waiting for your return?” Fiona quickly changed the subject.

It was too late now to entertain any kind of exchange between her and the blacksmith. That chance was gone the moment the centaur had stepped into the room at the tavern. She had a mission. It was what she was sent to do and was more important than any heat she had felt before.

“Me? No. I’ve never been very good with women and I don’t think I’d be a very good husband to the few I’ve managed to snag here and there.” There was a note of sadness in the blacksmith’s voice, but it quickly disappeared. “So is this leading to my kiss or should I just go back to sleep?”

“No kisses for you tonight.” Fiona touched his arm. “You need rest.”

“You are not a very accommodating nursemaid.” Ronan grunted. “Perhaps you should get Ula to come and care for me. As I recall she can look nearly as beautiful as you if she wants to.”

“She will make you drink the broth,” Fiona warned and then laughed when he made a face. “See, now you appreciate me. And I am no one’s nursemaid.”

Ronan ran a hand over his face and scratched at his chin. “I shaved my beard off for you,” he said aloud.

“I don’t know why. I’ve never been bothered by facial hair.” She bit her tongue. Now, why had she said that?

“Ula had said it was unbecoming. I guess I thought it would increase my chances with a young woman if I looked a bit younger myself.” Ronan let his hand fall back to his side. “You look a bit different when you are fighting or angry.”