The King's Sword (17 page)

“That should ease everyone’s worries,” Fiona said then sighed. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t mean to. I was angry and acted foolishly.”

Arien tilted his head as he looked at her. “You think I’m sore at you?” He offered a shy smile and shook his head. “I’m not. And it didn’t really hurt.”

She smiled, knowing that it was a lie he told. “I’m glad to hear that,” she said.

“If you are hungry, come and eat,” Ula called.

Arien jumped to his feet and held out a hand to help Fiona down from the boulder. She accepted his assistance, smiling when he didn’t let go until she was standing both feet on the ground.

“You go ahead. I’m not very hungry right now. I’ll eat later,” she told him and he rushed forward to accept the food Ula had waiting for him. She could see why Ronan had such a fondness for him and why Ula was so protective of him.

Leaning back against the cool stone, she looked out at the trees, dismissing her observations of the youth. What had she done? Thestian would know she and Ronan had joined. She prayed it would not make him think she could not fulfill her mission.

Missions were what always came first with Serpentine Warriors. She was the best at what she did because she wouldn’t allow herself to be swayed. She’d learned to use her sword as well as the changeling magic that was part of her. No one was better. It was why Thestian had sent for her rather than someone else.

Her gaze drifted to Ronan, watched him as he began to eat. He was a wizard and hadn’t seemed overly surprised when she’d told him. There had been denial but no shock. In fact, he’d almost seemed angry when she said the words. What did that mean? Was he someone who was a threat to Merisgale? Thestian hadn’t thought so but why then would he refuse to acknowledge his gifts?

She blinked and looked away when his gaze darted toward her. She didn’t want to be suspicious of him. The brown of Ronan’s eyes were without ill intent. He’d even felt guilty for being abrupt with her.

She liked Ronan. She liked him the moment he’d first spoken to her in the tavern. Something drew her to him, she’d felt it when they’d ridden together.

She could not afford to care for someone. That kind of caring brought pain. Pain brought error in judgment. And there could be no error when it came to the King’s Sword. The dangers were too great; the stakes to high.

Ten

“They did
what
?” Diato’s voice vibrated through the Great Hall of Merisgale Castle as he stared at the young wizard with wild eyes. The maids who were serving Thestian his supper cringed and then scampered from the room when Thestian took pity on them and dismissed them with a slight wave of his hand.

“I suspected it would happen.” Thestian could see the anger rising in the captain of the guards. The man looked as if he was ready to burst, eyes wide, hands shaking, jaw clenched in an effort to control his temper.

“He must have tricked her,” Diato reasoned through gritted teeth. “Took his role in carrying the sword seriously. As if he were really a guard. She may have even protested.” He was only making himself even angrier with every word he spoke.

“There seemed to be no trickery involved,” Thestian said in a soft voice and crossed his arms. “I don’t know if they felt emotion for one another. Only that they joined. Emotion could make delivering the sword more complicated. The dark forces can use the heart to weaken people.”

Diato’s entire body was shaking. “When did it happen?” His fingers dropped to the sword that rested in the sheath on his hip. He gripped the hilt tightly.

Thestian sighed heavily. “You do not want details…”

“When?” Diato forgot himself and raised his voice.

The young wizard was not offended. In fact, he understood Diato’s anger.

“Yesterday, in a cave. In the foothills of Jobi Mountains,” Thestian told him quietly.

“A cave?” Diato laughed at that but it was not a laugh of humor. It nearly sounded maniacal. Thestian rose from his chair and moved toward the window, placing distance between Diato and himself.

“I’ll kill him,” Diato threatened. “I’ll kill them both.”

“I thought I understood that the two of you were no longer together.”

“She’s
mine
.” The possessiveness in Diato’s voice thickened his words.

“Well, you should remain calm. You are no use to me in this crazed state,” Thestian warned but he couldn’t be sure that Diato even heard him. When he turned from the window, the man looked changed, maddened with jealousy. Thestian could see his true nature easily now. Diato did not care if Fiona didn’t want him. He could live with that. But if he couldn’t have her, then no one else could either. And that made Diato more dangerous than Thestian had ever imagined.

Diato suddenly looked up at Thestian. “It could jeopardize the mission.”

The wizard nodded. The captain obviously hadn’t heard Thestian’s warning of the same thing only moments before.

“You said Fiona was the only one to do this mission, that she was the best person for the job,” Thestian reminded. “I trust you did not lie to me.”

“I did not but I had not considered the blacksmith would be a man of such low character that he would attempt to manipulate her with sex to do as he wished,” Diato said, clearly placing full blame upon Ronan Culley.

“She may have manipulated
him
,” Thestian suggested quietly. “I would guess her an aggressive woman by the way she used her sword.”

“She did not manipulate him,” Diato argued, his voice trembling. “I did as you asked. I looked into the blacksmith’s past. It seems Ronan Culley is not just a man who bends metal.”

“Oh?” Thestian’s brow arched.

“He is a wizard,” Diato continued. “An ignorant wizard but a wizard none the less. He never even went to a monastery. The sword may be in danger.”

Thestian studied Diato’s face for a few moments. “What do you suggest is the appropriate course of action?”

“Interception.” Diato did not even hesitate before answering. “I could round up some of my men and ride out tonight. We could intercept them within a week.”

Thestian sighed heavily. “It seems there is no other choice. Round up your men. Leave in the morning.” Diato bowed respectfully before leaving the wizard to do as he was bid.

-

“
Damned changelings. They are taking over everything,” Arneld growled, slamming his large hand down on the table. His brown eyes were filled with cold hatred. “A man can’t get a decent job anymore. It’s all changelings or worse, half beasts.”

“
Arneld, not in front of our son,” Marjorie warned softly but Arneld’s head snapped around so he could stare at his young son. The boy stared at his father with wide eyes, having never seen him so angry in all his eight years.

“
The sooner he learns the way of things the better off he’ll be,” Arneld argued. “It’s better he gets the truth about magic before it’s too late.”

“
No, we always said we would not teach him to hate.” Marjorie placed a gentle hand on Arneld’s shoulder. “It will upset him.”

“
Men are tainted if they have magic. It’s the truth. We are the only things pure of magic anymore. I am through with any who do have magic.” Arneld’s hand clenched, his knuckles whitened. “I was the best man for that job. I can do the work. That damned changeling transformed himself into a mule and did it in the half the time.”

“
Arneld…” Marjorie tried to stop him again.

“
No! My son will not grow up thinking it is acceptable to let those freaks take what is his. I won’t have it. A changeling is no friend. I know that and now he will too. Boltic was my friend and he stabbed me in the back. Pulled that job right out of my hands, knowing my family needs to be fed.”

“
Boltic’s family has suffered too,” Marjorie said.

“
That was my job! He wouldn’t have even known about it if I hadn’t told him! They aren’t welcomed in this house ever again. Don’t let the boy go playing with their son anymore. No changeling will ever set foot on this land as long as I live here!”

“
But, Egle is my friend,” A tiny voice dared to whisper from the small chair at the table.

“
And you will not be my son if you go against my wishes, boy! I’ll beat the breath from you and put you out if I ever catch you taking up with a changeling. They are tainted and evil! All magic is evil!” Arneld’s words brought tears to the boy’s eyes. He’d never threatened violence against his son before.

“
Egle is not evil.”

“
I say that he is!” Arneld bellowed and the boy grew silent.

“
Arneld! He’s only eight.” Marjorie cried. Tears sprang to her eyes as she looked down at the deflated expression on her son’s face. Arneld stared at her, then rose and stormed into the back room. He slammed the door behind him so forcefully that the walls of the cottage vibrated.

Marjorie sighed, looking at her son. “Don’t you listen to him. Egle is your friend. He can always be your friend.”

“
Father says that magic is evil.” The boy’s lips quivered.

Marjorie looked toward the door her husband just disappeared behind. She knelt beside the boy’s chair, lowering her voice. “You aren’t evil. We just won’t tell him about the things you can do. He never has to know. It will be our secret. Will that be alright?” She smiled when he nodded and leaned forward to press her lips against his forehead. “Egle is still your friend. Neither of you are evil. You are my special little boy. My very special little boy.”

“
Father will hate me now.”

Marjorie closed her eyes and kissed his forehead again. “No. Your Father just hates the life he has.”

The boy said nothing for several minutes then threw his arms around his mother. “I love you. I always love you.”

Marjorie smiled. “And I love you too, Ronan. Forever.”

* * *

Ronan woke with a start, eyes wide and a large lump in his throat. A dream. But it had been so real, as if he stepped right into the memory. The image of his father had been clear.

He rubbed a hand over his face and sat up. As he stood, he was careful not to stir any that slept around him. He stepped over them carefully and from the cave into the night air.

Three deep breaths that pulled the chill into his lungs and still he felt no better than before. He’d hated his father’s bigotry. It had driven a wedge between them that had never been mended. But as long as he kept the truth of what he could do a secret there was peace.

Now his secret was out. Fiona had said the words he’d always feared to hear.
You are a wizard.
He’d hid from that fact, tucked that part of him away. He’d stopped playing with the gifts he knew he had as teenager but he’d sworn to himself that he would never slight someone for being different than him, or the same.

“Ronan?” Ula’s voice found him, drew him from his thoughts. He didn’t look back at her as she shuffled forward to his side.

“You should rest while you have the chance,” he told her.

“What about you?” Ula touched his arm. He felt her shiver and reached back, draping his arm over her thin shoulders, offering her a bit of warmth.

“I needed some air.” He glanced down at her worried expression. “Too many bodies cramped into such a tight space.” The moon cast a ghostly glow on her face and when she smiled, her wrinkles dug dark shadows into her skin.

“You did not think it was cramped earlier.” She was teasing him and he gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Just be cautious. Someone is not…”

“Neither do I. I’ve seen enough trouble that I do not welcome any more.” Ronan frowned. They both grew silent and Ronan glanced around at the night. Nothing stirred. It was as peaceful in moonlight as it had been beneath the sun.

“You stilled the waters of River Blanch.” She shrugged beneath his arm. “Unless a person is dimwitted, they know only a wizard could control another source of magic like that.”

Ronan felt stupid. “I’ve not used any kind of magic since I was a boy. My father disapproved of any kind of person who had it and my mother wished to keep it a secret, to keep peace.”

“They are dead now,” Ula said and Ronan winced. “The pain is still raw?”

“Not because of him. But my mother…it is unimportant.” Ronan bowed his head. “That’s not true. I could have saved her if I had used what I knew I had in me.” Ula gave him another squeeze and Ronan took a breath.

“I know nothing of this magic business. I decided the day my mother died that if I couldn’t use it to save her, I would never use it.” Ronan’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“But you have,” Ula pointed out and Ronan nodded.

“It’s as if it has a mind of its own. I do not call it to surface.” His frown deepened. “And because I’ve never used it, I don’t know much of what to do with it now that it is here.”

“You will learn,” Ula offered quietly.