By Vengeance Guided (The Lost Shrines Book 1) (4 page)

"I've been searching for seven years to bring the Isles' Council proof that Hafgan is a danger. To find some way to get them to allow me to go after him. I have six weeks until the solstice. Six weeks until the Council meets again to find some proof. To find something, anything that will convince them he is a danger to humans and Milesans alike."

"You think this woman, this Liadan, is the key? You truly believe Daen isn't simply another love-sick puppy? That she somehow enchanted him? She put her valley at risk for what gain?"

"You heard him. At the time, she wouldn't have been putting the valley at risk. She was trying to move ahead. Now that she is in charge, maybe she is only scrambling to undo it."

"There's a lot of guess work and maybes. All on the word of a man who admits he's obsessed and irrational on this particular subject."

Caerwyn shook his head and laughed, a sound devoid of any humor. "I've got nothing better to do for the next six weeks."

The room was silent when Daen returned. The Prince's face remained smooth and unperturbed by the perusal he received from all four men.

Caerwyn broke the silence. "I will look into your request. If I feel there is merit, I will give you the words to call on my Attribute."

He stood close to Daen, allowing his six-inch height advantage to make its own statement. "You realize, if I choose to loose my Vengeance on your behalf, neither of us will have a say in the outcome. The hand of the Goddess will guide my Attribute to its appropriate judgment. I can't guarantee you will get anything you want or feel you deserve."

The Prince blinked then a serpentine smile crawled across his face sending a spike of disquiet along Caer's nerves but he stood his ground.

"I understand. I trust the Goddess to offer something…appropriate. You will do it then?"

"I will investigate, but I will need to find some proof sorcery was involved for it to be severe enough to rouse my Attribute. Otherwise, it is simply the kind of games played between men and women for millennia."

The smile faltered and something dark slithered in and out of Daen's eyes.

"I'm sure you'll find Vengeance is the only answer to these circumstances."

*****

The sweet, illogical babble spilling from Tanis soothed Lia's nerves in a way nothing else could. Tucked up on the carriage seat next to her, her niece stared out at the passing scenery and kept a constant, incomprehensible commentary.

Across from Lia, however, Nel's silent handwringing was giving her a headache. The older woman had been a nanny to Lia and Marta growing up. She'd raised them as much as their parents had. Probably more. Now she was chatelaine of the manor house and one of Liadan's self-appointed keepers.

Lia almost sighed in relief when Nel finally broke the tension by speaking her mind.

"I'm concerned about Master Gui. You must take him seriously. Some of the younger members of the valley, those that don't understand tradition, they're taken with him. The elders, well, they respect the old ways, but they also remember what you were like as a child. They listen when he whispers that you're too young. Too rash."

Lia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Let the frustration flow through her. Mustn't react
rashly
.

It wasn't Nel's fault. Her chatelaine was trying to help. When Lia remained silent, Nel pursed her lips and leaned forward with her shawl gripped tightly in her hands.

"He's up to something. Something underhanded. For weeks, he's been sneaking around. Suggesting you're too young, too flighty, to take over for your sister. Some are listening."

"I know, Nel. I know."

The older woman leaned back but continued to glare with narrowed eyes. "Your late night jaunts aren't helping. If anyone found out, it'd only prove his point. That you're still the same reckless girl you were before your sister died."

Lia’s spine sharpened and her body pulled tight in surprise. "You know about that?"

"Aye. Keneally knows every noise in the manor house. He hears you when you sneak out and waits up until he hears you come back, safe and sound."

"Damn."

Keneally was eighty if he was a day though no one knew for sure his exact age. He'd been managing the lands of the manor, its pastures, fields and herds for as long as anyone could remember. He'd done it for the entire time Lia's mother had led the valley, and probably part of her grandmother's time, as well. She hadn't meant to disturb anyone else with her runs, and her old advisor deserved a peaceful night's sleep.

"Damn," she repeated and sat back.

Nel only raised a single eyebrow to admonish her language. "I believe Gui suspects something, as well. It's only a matter of time before he catches you at it."

She knew it was a risk. The people of Hara Dale expected their leader to be proper. A genteel lady who led with an iron will and velvet hand. Always calm. Always dignified and refined. The way her mother had been. The way her sister had been as well.

It made Lia's skin itch.

She was used to running through the fields, climbing trees, riding bareback. Hunting with Keneally and berry picking in the deep forest with the older children.

She was used to pulling out her pencils or paints any time of day or night to capture whatever perfect image caught her fancy.

It had been so long since Lia had had time for herself, the layer of dust on her supplies was thick enough to plant Keneally's prize wheat crop in.

She'd needed an outlet after six months imprisoned in a role she never expected or wanted.

Running through the estate while everyone else slept seemed safer than her first impulse, a few weeks ago, to join in an impromptu afternoon game of tag with some of the village boys. The way she used to. Without a second thought.

Her personal dissatisfaction wasn't the issue though. Bigger problems threatened the valley at the moment. She turned away, letting her eyes drift over the rolling hills she no longer had time to sketch.

"He nearly did," Lia murmured, her voice so low she barely heard it herself.

"What?"

This time she turned and looked Nel in the eye. "Gui. He nearly caught me."

That took Nel by surprise. "When? How? Oh, dear."

"A couple of weeks ago. The first night I went out for a ramble. I went to check on Tanis, after, and he saw me when I was coming out."

She told Nel about the entire encounter. And how, ever since, he'd been hinting at a permanent, romantic liaison. "Last night, at dinner, he whispered that he wished it was just the two of us. I've been doing my best to ignore him, but I don't think he's going to give up."

"Doesn't that fool understand the repercussions? He's the one who talked your sister into signing the betrothal agreement. Doesn't he understand what's at stake?"

"Obviously not. Or he never would have convinced her to hand me over like a prize pig in the first place. I have to wonder if she was already ill to have been foolish enough to go along with it."

"Your sister, Goddess hold her soul, was a love-sick passion-blind fool. Eager to prove her marriage was nothing like the cold business arrangement your parents’ had been. She only saw the handsome hero and not the self-absorbed idiot. She was too afraid of becoming the ball-busting shrew your mother was, she gave into Gui's every whim. Of course, no one in the valley ever saw that side of her. She kept it hidden behind the prim façade. Now they see you trying to pick up the mess she left and blame you for it."

Lia didn't want to think about that anymore. Unfortunately, it was all she had been thinking, trying to figure a way out of it for the past six months.

With an unladylike snarl, Lia gave vent to her frustration. "We are a tiny little minnow of land surrounded by three giant sharks. The only thing that has kept us from getting gobbled up is the fear they have of each other. The second one hints at moving closer to our borders, the other two bristle in response. If Daen gets a claim by marrying me, even if it's only temporary, while I'm regent, our land will become a blood-drenched battlefield."

Lia wanted to get up and pace but the confines of the carriage hemmed her in.

"I have six months left of official mourning before he's going to insist on a wedding. If I can't untangle this mess my sister left, I will be the last Handmaiden to guide the valley."

She reached out and stroked Tanis's golden curls. "That's if he gives me six months. His letters have been more pointed about specific dates and details. I don't know how much longer I can hold him off from a formal visit. Once the betrothal agreement becomes common knowledge, we're doomed."

Nel leaned forward and placed a soothing hand on Lia's knee. "You're smart. And a fighter. For all your quirks, you care about the valley and its people. You will find a way to get through this."

"I hope so. If anyone finds out what we're really protecting here, it could plunge the whole world into chaos and war."

*****

Caerwyn maneuvered through the streets of the village attempting to find work and gossip. Unfortunately, he fared poorly in both endeavors. The rest of the town's people were even less inclined to speak to a stranger than the taciturn tavern keeper who had charged him far more than a night in a country inn should have cost. Especially for a room the size of a broom closet. Just one of many small slights the village used to discourage strangers from lingering.

If he couldn't find work, he had no idea how he was going to explain his continued presence in the tight-knit community. If he couldn't get anyone to talk to him, he'd never find the answers he needed to take down Hafgan or his minions.

By late afternoon, in frustration and desperation, he'd taken to using his enhanced senses to eavesdrop in hopes of learning something useful. Anything. He just needed to know if he was wasting his time on a wild goose chase or the so-called Handmaiden of the valley was involved in sorcery of any kind.

Outside the herbalist's shop, he learned anyone not responding to the elderly widow's tinctures and balms was sent to the Lady's manor house for “healing.” Then, near the blacksmith stables, he overheard one farmer tell another he needed to get the Handmaiden out to his fields for a “blessing” since his crops were scarcer than in past years.

The “miracles” were discussed freely among the villagers when they believed they were too far out of earshot for a normal human to hear. Without seeing her in action for himself, though, Caerwyn had no way of knowing how she achieved her results. She could be conning them with sleight of hand and practiced platitudes. Or she could be employing darker arts to twist the villagers to her will.

Humans had no inborn magic. They could not call on inherent Attributes or their connection to the Earth and the Goddess she embodied like Milesans. In order to gain magic, they had to steal the power from other sources. Some used only the force found in herbs and stones to effect mild changes. Perhaps that was all the Lady was doing.

Few, if any, ever stopped there, though. The siren song of power was too tempting to deny for most who started on that slippery slope. They soon graduated to larger and larger sources of life force until they steeped themselves in blood magic and evil.

From the sounds of it, either “the Handmaiden” was delusional and believed she could heal the sick, she was pulling a fast one on her people, or she was using some level of sorcery. If that was the case, with Hafgan's stronghold only a stone's throw across the border into the Warlord's lands, it was too much to be a coincidence. Particularly considering the game she seemed to be playing with Daen.

He needed to meet this Lady and see for himself precisely what she was up to. Which meant he needed to find a job before the villagers ran him out of town with pitchforks and torches.

He moved down the main thoroughfare, looking for some place he hadn't already tried to find work. The wide, hard-packed road running through the village wound its way north from the border of Daen's kingdom and was surprisingly busy. The village itself bustled with life and energy.

He started to step out to try his luck in the shops and buildings on the other side when a cacophony of noise and shouts registered in his ears. A driverless cart careened into view, barreling down the center of the street with a wild horse in the lead, eyes rolling, hooves churning.

"Horsey!"

The high-pitched, childish shout caught his attention over the oncoming clatter. A brief impression of a tiny, fragile body and blond curls were all he needed before instinct kicked in, driving him into action. His shoulder hit the ground first when he scooped the child into his arms. He ignored the pain, forcing his body to continue rolling even while he felt the displaced air of the powerful hooves flailing inches from his flesh.

He only uncurled when the hard thud of hoof beats receded.

"It's all right, little one. You're fine. A few bumps and scrapes but you'll be good as new in a couple of days."

Caerwyn sat on the hard-packed dusty ground, cradling the child and crooning nonsense in an attempt to calm the hiccupping sobs pouring out of her.

Or, perhaps, to calm himself. The rushing sound of his heart continued a deep staccato in the back of his head and his muscles remained locked. His whole body formed a tense coil, ready to launch into action at the slightest provocation.