Well of the Damned (33 page)

They
pulled back to look into each other’s eyes. “How are you,
love?” he asked.

“I’m
fine, really. A touch of the morning sickness, but it’s nothing
a little finnara root doesn’t cure.”

“And
our son? Have you felt him move?”

“Oh,
no,” Feanna said. “No, it’s too early for that.”

“I
want to feel him again.”

She
giggled and took his hands, putting them on her belly. “Of
course.”

He
took a deep breath, scoffed at his own nervousness, and focused on
her haze with his hidden eye. His hands warmed, his awareness
expanded through her haze and through her body to touch his son. His
boy was safe, growing, healthy. He hoped the baby’s haze would
reach for him like it had before, but nothing happened. There would
be time to bond with his son in the coming months. No need to force
it. He pulled back and let out his breath.

“Did
you feel him?”

He
nodded. “He’s healthy. Seems bigger now.”

“They
grow up so fast.” They both chuckled.

“How
was your visit to the orphanage?”

“Oh,
it’s wonderful. I’m so glad I came. It’s given me
some ideas for improvements to the one in Tern. But Gavin, what are
you doing in Ambryce?” she asked. “You didn’t come
just to see me, did you?”

Damn,
he thought. She had
an uncanny way of phrasing questions that made any answer he gave the
wrong one. He hoped this wasn’t the beginning of another
argument. “Cirang escaped,” he said. “We tracked
her to Ambryce. I had to make sure you’re awright.”

Feanna
put a hand to her heart. The color drained from her face. “Cirang’s
here? Oh, Gavin! How could you let that happen?”

His
spine turned to steel. “Let it happen? That’s the
question you ask me? Not ‘Who did she kill to make her escape?’
Awright, I suppose I own the blame for it, since I let her out o’gaol
to chase after a book.”

She
lay her hand over his thundering heart. “Oh! No, love, that’s
not what I— I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cast blame.
I just meant how did she get away? What book were you chasing?”

He
took a deep breath to calm himself down, and then told her about the
journal, the journey, and Cirang’s attack on Vandra that led to
her escape. “I should’ve known she’d try
something,” he said quietly. “She’d been
cooperative, and I guess Vandra dropped her guard.”

“You
took two battlers whose job was to ensure she wouldn’t escape,
and yet she found a way.” Her brow creased with worry. “Does
she know I’m here?”

“If
she didn’t know before, surely she does now,” he said.
“Even if she doesn’t notice the lordover’s entire
garrison directing traffic and blocking off streets, I’m
guessing the townsfolk haven’t quit talking about your visit
since you got here.”

“Do
you know why she came to Ambryce?”

“I
guess because it was the nearest city.” He told Feanna a
condensed version of their pursuit, the wellspring, and the murders
of Vandra and the two people whose home she invaded. “If she’s
smart, she’s already left. If she tries to hide in the city,
I’ll find her. She wrote me a message, probably a taunt.”
He opened the door, leaned out and beckoned Daia into the room.

Daia
bowed to Feanna. “Your Majesty, it’s wonderful to see you
looking so well.”

“And
you, Daia,” Feanna replied.

“Now’s
a good time to read me Cirang’s message,” Gavin said.

Still
holding it in her hand, Daia unfolded it and began to read aloud.

To
our illustrious king, Gavin Kinshield.

I’ve
left a gift for you at the Gwanry Museum of History. By the time you
receive this message, I will have left Ambryce. Once again, I’ve
slipped through your thick, clumsy fingers, and this time for good.
Don’t bother to look for me. You won’t find me.

Good-bye,
Kinshield. I hope you find my gift illuminating.

My
warmest regards,

Sithral
Tyr

“She
signed it Sithral Tyr?” he asked, snatching the message to
examine the signature. “Bastard.”

“Who’s
that?” Feanna asked.

“A
Nilmarion man who was in league with Ravenkind,” Gavin said.

“Why
would she sign a man’s name?”

“Daia
killed him— sorry, love. It’s a story I got no time to
tell right now.”

“Is
she still in Ambryce?” Daia asked.

“Let
me see.” He took a moment to send his hidden eye up through the
building’s roof and over the city. At first, he saw no sign of
her, but as he moved his mystic vision westward, he spotted her dark
haze among the light ones in the city’s center. She was on the
edge of a large gathering of citizens. If that was where Feanna was
supposed to take the children, then her excursion was about to be
canceled.

Gavin shook his head to dismiss
the hidden eye and return to his normal consciousness. “Found
her. She’s in the city.”

“Excellent,”
Daia said. “We’ll catch her today, then.”

“I’m
afraid I got to cancel your plans,” he said, taking Feanna’s
hands. He hated disappointing her and the orphans, but Cirang was
dangerous. There was no telling what she would do. “She’s
in the crowd that’s gathering, waiting to see you.”

“Then
you can send the lordover’s men to arrest her,” she said.
“Once they have her, I can take the children—”

“She’ll
sneak away as soon as she sees them closing in,” Gavin said. “I
got to hunt her myself.”

Feanna
shook her head. “You’re the king. You aren’t
supposed to chase down malefactors. Let our battlers do it. Daia
knows her. All the former Sisters do, and Adro does.”

“Don’t
you see?” he asked. “If she gets away, I can track her
down. She might run, but she can’t hide from me.”

Feanna
squared her shoulders and gazed at him with such determination, she
appeared to be looking at him from his own eye level instead of a
foot lower. “Then there’s no reason to cancel my plans.
If she’s in the crowd waiting for me, then you’ll stop
her before she reaches me.”

The
image of his first wife, pregnant with their second child, came to
mind, her blood spurting from the knife wound in her neck. His
failure as a husband and father was as real to him now as it was when
he’d watched his family die five years earlier. His palms
sweated, and his throat tightened. “No,” he said flatly.
“I won’t dangle you in front of her like bait and
endanger your life and the life o’my son.”

She
went to the door and yanked it open. “Tennara, come in here,
please.” The elder battler entered the room, followed by Adro,
Lila and Brawna. “Do you remember what Cirang looks like?”
Feanna asked. They affirmed they did. “Then there’s no
problem. If they see her, they’ll apprehend her.”

“King
Gavin instructed us not to leave your side,” Adro said, “not
even to shit— begging your pardon for my language.”

Feanna
put her hands on her hips. “You’d think I was the
malefactor and not Cirang.”

Gavin
went to her and tried to put his arms around her, but she pushed his
hands away. “Sweetheart,” he said softly, “I’m
just trying to keep you safe. That’s my first concern, always.”

“No,
you’re trying to control me like you always do,” she
said. “I won’t have it. I’m taking the children
shopping. The lordover’s got every one of his guards on duty to
keep me safe. Send Brawna and Daia with me if you want, while you sit
around here twiddling your toes. I promised those children, and after
what they’ve been through, the last thing they need is another
adult letting them down. I won’t do it. If you want to keep me
here, you’ll have to hold me down yourself.”

He
couldn’t bring himself to chastise her in front of Daia and her
own guard. She was still their queen, and he wouldn’t humiliate
her, though as soon as he got her alone, he would redden her ears.
All the tears and apologies in the world wouldn’t ease the
scolding she was due. If he hadn’t married her, she’d
still be a lonely widow struggling to put food on the table, and he
would still be king. In defying him, she was overstepping her
authority, and in front of her guards and his champion, no less.
Using his own guilt against him was an added offense for which she
would not be soon forgiven. Gavin gave her a look that promised the
matter wasn’t settled, and then he told Tennara, “Cirang
has some serragan powder. Be sure she doesn’t get close enough
to use it.”

She
bowed. “Your will be done.”

“Let’s
go,” he said to Daia, and walked out, too angry to kiss his
wife good-bye.

Chapter 37

Cirang
had one last task to complete before she left Ambryce: to empty her
waterskin into one of the city’s wells, though she had some
reservations. The public wells contained a large enough supply of
water to dilute the water in her skin and reduce its effect, if any,
on those who drank it. She couldn’t be certain what she had was
anything more than plain spring water. Perhaps she should pay some
street urchin to drink it as a test. That way she could observe the
effect on the child before she poured it into the well.

As
she rode through the streets of Ambryce, she exchanged greetings with
the townsfolk she passed, playing the part of the First Royal Guard.
All she needed to do was stay out of Kinshield’s reach until
she saw the effect the water had on those who consumed it. If it did
what it was reputed to do, she would plan her next step. If not, then
she would follow her original plan to return to Nilmaria.

If
this water was enchanted, it could make her very wealthy. Plenty of
things were traded on the black market — warrant tags, illegal
poisons and potions, orphans — but the problem with selling the
water that way was the reliance on word of mouth. Those who drank it
might consider themselves more enlightened than, perhaps morally
superior to, others and might not spread word. In fact, they might
tattle to the city guard, leading to her capture. On the other hand,
she couldn’t very well open a shop and sell the water to the
public like wine or coffee. She could, however, sell it to merchants
and distributors. Her advantage was being the only person who knew
its source.

She
turned a corner and came to a stop, held up by a crowd of people,
horses and wagons so thick, it would take hours to get through.
Ahead, the street was a sea of heads and hats seeming to float in
place, unmoving.

“What’s
going on?” she asked someone beside her.

“The
queen,” the man grumbled.

Hell’s
teeth!
Feanna would recognize her and have her arrested on sight.
The queen was reputed to be a sniveling martyr, but no idiot would
forgive Cirang for kidnapping her to feed to a demon. She needed to
take another route.

“Why
aren’t you with her?” the man asked. He was well dressed
in stylishly fitted trousers and a billowing shirt with a waistcoat
beneath a fitted jacket and rain cloak. Though he wore a hat, he also
carried a rainshade. “You’re wearing the royal colors.”

“I’m
on a mission for the king, actually,” she said. “What’s
Queen Feanna doing out in the rain?”

“Don’t
know,” he said, “but nobody seems to mind. Everyone wants
to get a look at her.”

“She’s
takin’ some orphans shopping,” a woman said. “She
took ’em to the bookman yesterday.”

“It’s
a damned nuisance, if you ask me,” the man said. “I’m
just trying to get to the Temple to take my sacrament. Didn’t
think I’d have to wade through a sea of spectators to get
there.”

A
thought lit Cirang’s mind, energizing her instantly. The
sacrament! It was brilliant.

“It’s
worse than Tern was during the coronation!” someone replied.

“Rain
be damned,” the first man said.

“After
almost four weeks o’this, you got to wonder if the rumors’re
true.”

“Bah!
Just lies born o’jealousy.”

Cirang
quit listening as her mind spun. As a child, she’d followed her
parents to the temple every month to pay homage to the god
Asti-nayas, but she’d never truly believed in an all-powerful
supernatural force that ruled people’s lives. Tyr had
subscribed to the Nilmarion belief that humans were spiritually
governed by twelve gods, not just one. Though the two faiths were
different, the people of Thendylath and Nilmaria shared a common
goal: a good life and a better afterlife. A more prosperous life.
More power, more money, more sex, more wisdom, greater health.
Communing with the Savior Asti-nayas by drinking the blessed water
within the temple was said to grant these things and more to
worshipers He deemed worthy.

In
her waterskins, Cirang had the power to enlighten the people of
Ambryce and make them see that Asti-nayas was but a fairy tale. Once
she gave them this, they would know the twelve true gods and worship
them properly. For that, they would owe her. They would do things for
her, just as they’d done for Tyr.