Dawnsinger (8 page)

Shae raised her goblet from the small table before her and sipped the ginger beer. With murmured thanks, she took a portion of pheasant Kai cut for her, and they completed their meal in awkward silence.

He left her then, carrying away an image of her framed in a tall window, hair escaping her plait. Sunset fell across her shoulder and lent its mysteries to the quiet garden with the fountain at its center behind her. Fire limned the high peaks beyond. Kai shut the door between them, caught by a feeling she’d already slipped away from him.

****

“Trouble with the Elder has arisen in Norwood.”

Elcon, warming himself before the fire, looked up at Kai’s words. Sometimes when he glanced at Elcon, Kai found himself lost in memories of Lof Shraen Timraen. Elcon had his mother’s sea green eyes and pale burnished hair, but his father’s features.

“
What
do you say?” Elcon seemed too young for such burdens but, like Timraen, must carry them. “
More
trouble?” He jerked his head toward Craelin, who moved toward the door.

Kai gave a belated bow. “True, Lof Frael
.
Two hooded riders on wingabeasts attacked me between Whellein Hold and the Whitefeather Inn. Also, witnesses report that two wingabeast riders burned an abandoned homefarm in Norwood. And then I had a—ah—an encounter with messengers from King Euryan of Westerland, come to warn Norwood against Kindren attack.”

“More trouble.” Weariness laced Elcon’s voice.

Craelin turned from bolting the door. “Yesterday, a messenger brought word of disturbances from Westerland.”

Kai shook his head. “This makes no sense.”

Elcon pressed the pads of his fingers against his temples. “The Kindren have lived in peace beside the Elder since coming from Anden Raven so long ago. Will we now have discord?” He spoke with restraint, but his words penetrated.

“Could there be some mistake? Perhaps the raiders only
appeared
to be Kindren.”

Elcon shrugged. “Kindren blood sometimes runs diluted in Elder veins. That could perhaps account for appearances, but what of the wingabeasts?”

Craelin left his position at the door and joined Kai on a green and blue woven mat near the benches before the fire. They stood much the same height and met at eye level. “Did you learn anything about the riders?” Craelin asked. “Did the witnesses describe them?”

Kai shook his head, wishing he’d had the presence of mind to query Quinn in detail. “I didn’t speak to the witnesses.”

Elcon paced before the fire. “As far as we know, only the Kindren have tamed the wingabeasts of Maegrad Paesad. And, among the Kindren, only the guardians
have access to the creatures. Could things have changed?”

Kai spread his hands. ”That question has plagued me since Norwood. Anything is possible, but wingabeasts have declined in the wild since Talan’s time and now dwell only in the farthest reaches of Maegrad Paesad. Any who sought them would risk life itself crossing ice fields and glacial moraines, and then must lead unwilling beasts out by the same route.”

“Such a thing is close to impossible!” Craelin’s expression darkened, his jaw tightened, and his clear blue eyes misted. “More likely, the traitors dwell within the ranks of the guardians. We must find them at all costs.”

Elcon paused in his pacing. “What do you suggest?”

Craelin squared his shoulders. “We should allow the traitors to trap themselves.”

“How?”

A small silence grew out of Elcon’s question, but Craelin roused at last. “We can question the guardians, one by one. Someone may have noticed something unusual on the nights the raids took place, or perhaps the guilty will betray themselves if questioned.”

Elcon inclined his head. “It’s worth a try.”

Kai rubbed his chin. “Should we not watch from the bastions and double the stable guard?

“We would only alert the traitors if we made such changes. And yet…” Craelen’s face lit. “We could place spies in the stable loft each night.”

“We could.” Elcon agreed. “But who can we trust with such a mission?”

Craelin grew thoughtful. “I can name no guardian I do not trust, and yet all are suspect.”

Elcon sighed. “Then take your spies from outside the guardians.”

Craelin nodded and glanced sideways at Kai. “But who?”

This question overtaxed Kai’s tired mind. The fire had burned to coals. Elcon called a halt and enjoined them to return to his chambers tomorrow night.

Torindan lay in slumber as Kai returned to the comfort of his small bedchamber. Strains of music drifted to him, for his room connected to Maeven’s outer chamber. He went to the window, pushed aside the hangings, and opened the shutters.

Striding through the archway and into the outer bailey, Craelin leaned into the wind blowing from the snowfields as he headed for the gatehouse where his sleeping chambers lay. As Kai watched, roiling blackness blotted the stars from the sky, one by one.

The storm broke with a howl, and he closed the shutters and let the hangings fall into place. He settled into his cold bed and thought not of traitors, but of Shae. He had noted her silent exchange with Freaer earlier. She would find suitors at Torindan, he supposed, but the idea filled him with dismay. He had enough to think about without keeping her out of that kind of trouble. He could even wish for her return to Whellein, but such a decision lay beyond his reach. With a sigh, he accepted the truth. There could be no turning back for Shae—or for him.

****

A foul wind breathed over Shae, and the hair on the back of her neck raised in warning. A hissing from the broken stairway sent prickles walking over her skin. Eyes gleamed in the shadows, and long shudders traveled her spine.

Somewhere, something shrieked.

Shae stumbled on the stone stair suspended between a dark void and a wall of living stone. She called for Kai, but her voice made no sound. Where was he?

“Find the light and be saved…”
The whispered words stirred the air.

She strained to see in the dimness. Who had spoken?

And then the broken stairway with its stench and the eyes of death dissolved away. Chest heaving, she lay trapped between waking and sleeping.

Light flared around the shutters. The pattering rain echoed the thrum of her pulse. Wind rattled the window and whined into the chamber through cracks. Drafts scuttled across the floor and sent the bed hangings swaying.

Darkness seeped into the room and wrapped around her very soul. She longed to escape, to flee, but her leaden legs would not carry her. Cold tendrils wrapped about her mind, probing, seeking entrance…

“Lof Yuel, protect me!”

An inner light flickered, and the weight of darkness shifted.

She felt it then—a second, quieter soul. Without hesitating, she welcomed its soothing touch. In the daylight, she would likely question everything, including her own sanity. But here in the dead of night, questions would not find answers.

7

Sword and Scepter

Craelin’s expression reflected Kai’s own frustration as Dithmar, another guardian who had seen nothing and knew nothing, left the gatehouse guardroom with a spring in his step, whistling.

Like Dithmar, each guardian had seemed innocent under questioning.

Kai sighed. While relieved to find no hint of duplicity among the guardians, he couldn’t help his disappointment at failing to discover the traitor’s identity.

A rap at the scarred strongwood door announced the arrival of the last guardian to be questioned, Guaron, keeper of the wingabeasts. Like the other guardians, Guaron did not ask why they summoned him but waited before them with quiet dignity.

Craelin rose from the bench that flanked the rough table centered in the sparse chamber. “Greetings, Guaron. We have questions for you.”

Emotion, at once repressed, crossed Guaron’s rugged face. Surprise? Or something more?

Craelin’s face remained neutral. “Have you noticed anything unusual from the other guardians?”

Guaron shook his head and his fine hair, straw-colored and cropped at chin level, followed the movement. “I’ve noticed nothing untoward. Should I have?”

“And the wingabeasts? Have you noticed anything strange about their behavior?”

Guaron drew breath as if to respond, but checked. His gaze swept from Craelin, who circled him, to Kai, waiting in silence at the battered table. “I think—well, yes I have.”

Craelin halted. “Pray tell us.”

Guaron rubbed his chin, and one index finger found its cleft. “Now you mention it, I
have
noticed a certain restlessness in the stables of late.”

Craelin’s eyes, nested in squint lines, glinted blue. “How long have you noticed this?”

“Not long, but it started before the Lof Raelein fell ill.”

Craelin tilted his head. “Restlessness, you say?”

Guaron’s glance flitted to Kai. “It reminded me of times in Glindenn Hold, before I came to Torindan, when the horses I tended sensed the approach of garns. Lately it’s seemed…”

Kai sat forward on the bench.

“Sometimes I could almost swear…” Guaron’s index finger again sought its rest. “Certain wingabeasts can seem out of sorts for no reason, almost as if… as if something keeps them from sleep.”

Craelin clasped his hands behind his back. “Have you heard or seen anything to shed light upon such observations? Anything out of place? Any sounds you might have disregarded at the time?”

Guaron’s forehead furrowed, but he shook his head. “I can think of nothing.”

“What about yesterday morning? Were all the wingabeasts accounted for?”

“Yes, but I thought two of the blacks might be sick. They improved with food and rest, though.”

“Thank you, Guaron. Seek either Kai or me should you think of anything else. Say nothing of this to anyone.”

After Guaron murmured assent, Craelin dismissed him. His step in the corridor didn’t spring as Dithmar’s had, but Kai couldn’t fault him for that. He didn’t feel particularly lighthearted either, given what they had just learned. He rose from the bench he’d occupied throughout the interviews and flexed his tense shoulder muscles.

Craelin stood also. “What think you?”

Kai shrugged. “Guaron appears truthful, and he confirms the wingabeasts have been upset of late.”

“Our plan to post spies may well yield results. Have you given thought to who might assist in this?”

“What if we take our spies from among those who hunt and track for Torindan?”

Craelin put a hand on the back of his neck and bowed his head. “Your idea has merit. Trackers know best the art of watching.” He dropped his arm. “Let Dorann be among them.”

“And his brother, Eathnor.”

“All right, but let’s keep the number of spies low. The fewer who know they exist, the safer they’ll be. Two can take turns watching over the wingabeasts
from the stable loft at night.” Craelin gave a nod of dismissal. “Tonight we will tell Elcon our strategy.”

Kai sought food and drink at the great hall and filled his trencher full of savory bruin stew. Abandoning his normal habit, he sat alone. The morning had soured him on conversation. Not that any of the guardians who sat nearby were talkative. Honor-bound to silence, they would not speak of their questioning, even to one another. And so they spoke of nothing. Kai did not linger over his stew.

On his way to Maeven’s chambers, he stopped to tap at Shae’s outer door. Silence followed for so long that he turned away. But the door swung inward and Chaeldra peered out. The apple-cheeked maid, unkempt and breathless, appeared not much older than Shae. She looked at him with bright eyes as a flush crept up her neck and hair the color of honey escaped from her cap. Before he could speak, she put a finger to her lips. “Shae sleeps.”

“
Yet?”

She averted her gaze. “The Lof Raelein said she might sleep as long as she likes.”

With a bob of her head, she made to shut the door, but he stopped it against his foot. “Send her, when she wakes, to the Lof Raelein’s chambers.”

“Just as the Lof Raelein wishes.”

He released the door and it swung shut with a final click of the latch. He examined the rampant gryphons carved into its surface. Did Chaeldra’s words hold a touch of resentment? He’d not treated her well the night before. He turned toward the corner tower, putting the servant from his mind. A smile touched his lips at thought of Shae still abed. Well, she’d earned it. She’d endured with fortitude the privations of their journey and suffered with grace his ill humor.

Eufemia, the willowy serving maid, admitted Kai to the Lof Raelein’s chamber. Maeven seemed stronger and more focused today. Elcon knelt at his mother’s bedside and smoothed the hair from her brow, speaking to her in quiet tones.

Eufemia poured water into a goblet from a cut-glass ewer, but Maeven waved both glass and servant away. “Go at once upon my
other
errand.”

Eufemia bowed and left the room.

“Good day, Kai. You look somewhat improved. Take your ease here beside me, if you will.”

Kai sank into the red velvet cushions of the bedside chair and, as mother and son returned to their conversation about some bygone hunt, gave them his silence. He had learned long ago to remain at hand but detached and vigilant. He seemed, by nature, suited to keeping his own company.

When a rap sounded at Maeven’s outer chamber door, Kai answered it in Eufemia’s absence. Benisch, Steward of Rivenn, clad in blue and girdled with links of gold, swept past him into the room. Adorning Benisch’s feet were fine blue slippers sewn with tiny gold bells that jingled when he walked.

“Good Steward, you honor me with your visit.” Maeven gave a fleeting smile.

Clinking and jingling, Benisch bent over her hand with pretty manners.

Kai resumed his seat at Maeven’s bedside while he repressed a chuckle at the chagrin on Elcon’s face. Benisch, Kai guessed, came not to visit Maeven but to remind Elcon of his duties.

Benisch straightened and favored Maeven with a smile. “I am grateful for the opportunity to wait upon you.”