The Kinshield Legacy (40 page)

Risan knew by the look on the battler’s face that Ravenkind hadn’t accepted his excuse. “What is your name?” he asked softly.

“Domach. Demonshredder.” The battler rolled up the sleeves of his tunic neatly, taking his time.

“I see he convinced you this is right thing to do. I thought I saw bit of decency in your eyes, but seems I was mistook.”

“I haven’t got a choice.”

“We do not see things same way. Your loyalty is to wicked mage, mine is to honorable man.”

“He’ll see I made the effort, but he still won’t have the answer he’s looking for. I’m sorry to do this. Believe me, my loyalty’s not to him.”

“Then why you are doing his evil deed?”

Domach hung his head. “He has my sister.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

Risan did not answer. What could he say? He stood up tall and straight, and nodded, signaling he was ready.

Domach closed his hand into a tight fist. He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched his lips, then took a deep breath. Opening his eyes, he stepped forward, cocked his arm, then let fly at Risan’s face. “No,” he said under his breath.

Pain exploded in Risan’s nose. He tumbled back against the wall. Blood streamed across his mouth and into his beard.

Domach stepped toward him. “No,” he said again, as his fist slammed into Risan’s face. “No, no, no.” His words punctuated every blow as it landed.

With every strike, Risan bounced against the wall behind him and stumbled forward, only to be driven back with the next blow. His left eye began to swell. His cheeks, his eyes, his nose and mouth burned with pain as Domach’s fist hammered him again and again. The skin above his right eye burst open and bled rivulets down his face.

“No,” Domach repeated with every slam of his fist. “No, no, no, no.”

Risan made no sound aside from the involuntary grunt when Domach’s blows knocked him into the wall. He took the beating stoically, straightening with steadfast determination after each staggering punch. He would never give in.

Now his left eye was swollen shut, his lips numb, and his mouth filled with the acrid tang of blood. A front tooth broke free, and he spat it out onto the floor.

Domach paused and bent over. His dark hair hung like a curtain, obscuring his face. He stumbled to the corner of the room, then puked onto the floor. After wiping his mouth with the back of a hand, he turned back with a white face and moist eyes, and continued to pummel Risan, saying, “No,” again and again.

Risan began to swoon. The room closed in, filled with a million grains of black sand. He held up a hand to beg for a pause while he bent down to clear his head. Domach waited. When Risan nodded that he was ready, still swaying on his feet, the pounding resumed.

“No, no, no.”

The sand returned, but before Risan could signal for a pause, the room went completely black.

Chapter 46

The pain in Gavin’s chest had lessened considerably, and he chanced a deeper breath. He coughed, wincing. Almost. He climbed to his feet.

“You’re hurt,” Daia said as she came to him, her voice thick and low. “Let me see your wound.” She reached for his cuirass and started to pull it off, but he pushed her hands away.

“It’s a scratch,” he croaked. He looked her over. “You awright?” While Gavin had been stabbed and would probably develop several bruises from his fight, Daia hadn’t a mark on her. Hm.

“Gavin, I saw you take his sword in the chest. Let me see. I can help—”

“If it was as bad as it looked,” he said in a raspy voice, “would I be standing here arguing about it? You should’ve let me kill Meobryn. I had him where I wanted him.” He could stand up straight now, and took a deeper breath. The pain was nearly gone. He looked down at his chest. The cuirass had a neat two-inch slice in it and a trickle of blood thickened in place on the front. He passed his cuff over it, wiping it away.

“Sorry,” she said with a wry grin. “I didn’t realize.”

“I owed him,” Gavin muttered. He looked down at his hand covered with blood. His blood. He wiped it on his shirttail. So much for this shirt.

“Hey,” Gavin said as he approached the coach driver. “Did Tyr have a Farthan man with him?”

“Yes, m’lord. He took a Farthan from Ambryce to the home of Seer Ravenkind in Sohan. That’s where Lord Tyr received the young lady.”

“Young...?” Gavin went to the door of the coach and yanked it open. A girl lay crumpled on the floor between the two seats -- the young battler he’d met in the woods near the cave. He put a finger to her neck. “She’s alive. Let’s get her out of here and lay her down.” He tossed his sword and scabbard to the ground while Daia went around to the other side of the coach and opened the door.

“Brawna,” she gasped.

Daia worked the latches to open the shackles binding Brawna’s hands while Gavin eased the knife from the girl’s belly, uncorking a slow stream of blood. He slid his hands under Brawna’s shoulders. Daia climbed into the coach and took her by the knees. They carried her to the side of the road and set her down in the tall grass.

Gavin ripped apart the bottom of the girl’s tunic and assessed her injuries. Blood flowed slowly, but at least it still flowed. It wouldn’t for long if he didn’t hurry.

“I have a needle and sutures in my pack.” Daia stood and ran to her horse.

Gavin put one hand over each of the wounds on Brawna’s abdomen. Instantly his hands burned hot. Clenching his teeth, Gavin closed his eyes and concentrated on finding the fluttery sensation he’d felt before.

It started at the top of his head and intensified there as it crept to his forehead, the base of his throat, his chest, solar plexus, belly and down to his groin. He saw nothing but whiteness, growing ever brighter to the point that it was blinding in his mind. The warm whiteness fluttered while a current flowed through his body, his hands, and into the girl. The longer he held his hands on the girl’s wounds, the harder it became. He felt trapped under water and couldn’t breathe, yet the feeling was in his gut rather than his chest.

Finally, his hands cooled and the whiteness dimmed. He opened his eyes, gasped for breath, and rocked back. Black spots rained upon his vision. He felt himself falling.

A warm hand stroked his face, smoothing the hair back from his forehead. Something soft pillowed his head, but the rest of him lay on a hard surface. Gavin opened his eyes.

Daia’s lovely face smiled down at him. “It’s just one surprise after another with you, isn’t it?”

“Tell me I didn’t puke on myself.” He pushed himself upright. Happily, his cuirass was dry.

“No. You just fainted.” She turned toward the girl. “Brawna’s sleeping peacefully now, her wounds all but scars. You should have let me help you heal her,” Daia said. “I’m a conduit, remember?”

“I remember the last time you helped me,” he grumbled. He licked his dry lips and, as if on cue, she handed him a flask. He drained it at once.

“I amplify the skills you have, that’s all.” She grinned at him. “You read hazes, you heal wounds – including your own. You did take Meobryn’s sword in the chest, Gavin. I peeked under your cuirass. What else do you have in your haversack, Mage Kinshield?”

He moved objects with just his will. “Stop. I ain’t a wizard.”

“Then you have another explanation?”

He shrugged and looked around. “Where’s the coach?”

“He left after you fainted.”

“You didn’t go after him?”

Daia shot him an impatient look. “I had to choose between following him or tending to you and Brawna. We know where Risan is; we didn’t need him further.”

Gavin grunted. She was right, but he would have liked to ask the driver a few more questions.

He crawled over to Brawna. Moving aside the tattered pieces of her blood-stained clothing, he checked the wounds. Even those he hadn’t focused on healing were closed. “She bled overmuch. She’ll be weak for a while.” Brawna lay still, but she breathed deeply and steadily. Gavin went to the Nilmarion’s body, squatted and began to search the pockets.

“You’re looking for spoils at a time like this?” Daia asked.

“No, I’m lookin’ for…” Tyr’s pockets were empty. “Damn it. He ha’nt got it.”

“What?”

“Calewen’s Pendant.”

“What do you want with it?” she asked.

“I got to take it to the Institute of Scholarly Studies in Sohan. If I give them the pendant, they’ll give me a copy of Kinshield’s letter.” He searched Toren’s body too. “DAMN IT!”

“Kinshield’s letter? You mean Ronor Kinshield?” she asked. “That letter burned in a fire over a hundred years ago.”

Gavin stood with his hands on his hips, looking at the bodies. Tyr should have had the pendant. Where could it be? “’Parently not,” he explained absently. “They found it, or a copy of it.” Bloody hell. Tyr had already given it to Brodas Ravenkind. That had to be it.

“What about these two?” Daia asked, toeing Tyr’s corpse.

Gavin bent to Toren’s body again and cut the thong around his neck, then inspected the tag. “The Lordover Tern issued this.”

“Let me see that,” Daia said. Gavin offered it to her to examine. “Forged. My father has his tags scored on the edge in a particular fashion. These are wrong.”

“I’d better take this to him, let him know. Can you get me an audience with him?”

Daia stiffened. “I think the gem in your pocket would get you one faster, and a more agreeable one at that.”

“Hm. Let’s move these two off the road. Leave them to their own kind to feed on.”

As Daia dragged Sithral Tyr’s body to the side of the road, a small wad of beige cloth fell out of his waistcoat. “Gavin, look at this.” She bent to pick it up.

“You lookin’ for spoils?”

She unwrapped the cloth. “Ugh! I wouldn’t call this ‘spoils.’ It’s hideous. Look at the eyes. They give me gooseflesh.” She held a greenish gray cat sculpture. “It’s heavier than it looks, like something’s inside.”

“Smash it. See what it is.”

Daia started toward her horse. “I think I’d like to ask around about it first. There’ll be plenty of time for smashing later.” She put it in her pack. “What about Brawna? We can’t take her back to Sohan. She’s obviously fallen out of favor with the Sisterhood. I wonder what happened.”

“She’s the one I saw in the woods. Prob’ly taking the blame for her companion’s death and my escape.”

“She’s the one you saw?” Daia asked, her voice rising with incredulity.

“Yeh. I got a friend in Lalorian who’ll look after her.” The time to speak with Edan about the King’s Blood-stone drew near. ”He’ll also help us rescue Risan.“

“We know where he is, Gavin. We don’t have time to go to Lalorian. Let’s leave Brawna in the care of a family outside the city. You and I can rescue Risan.”

“No. We can’t battle Ravenkind alone,” he answered. “We need all the help we can get.”

“Domach can help us.”

“Demonshredder’s good, but he ain’t enough. Trust me on this.”

He reached for Brawna’s arm, intending to draw her up over his shoulders. Brawna stirred and whimpered. “Wha—What’s happening?” she asked as she struggled to sit up.

Gavin squatted beside her. “Here, drink.” He held a flask to her lips.

She took it without hesitation and guzzled the water. After a moment, she wiped her mouth and looked up at him. “Thank--” An expression of confusion crossed her face, then widened to a gape. “You!” Her eyes welled with tears. “Thank you, my liege,” she whispered.

Daia squatted beside them, smiling. “Glad to see you’re awake.”

“Daia! What happened? How did you find me?”

“Your brother.” Daia gave her a short summary of the events from their conversation with Domach to the fight. In return, Brawna told them what she knew about Ravenkind and the Sisterhood’s alliance with him.

“Cirang thinks he’s going to become king.” Brawna looked up at Gavin. “Didn’t you say you were looking for a Farthan blacksmith?”

“Did you see him?” Gavin asked.

“No, but Ravenkind talked about a Farthan blacksmith that the Nilmarion brought to him. They thought he was the rune solver until Cirang told them that I’d seen you at the cave. I think he’s at Ravenkind’s house. Ravenkind has a sword with some jewels in the hilt.” She trembled. “He used it... Oh, my lord. He--” Brawna turned away and retched.

“What’s wrong?” Daia asked, her hand on Brawna’s back. “What did he do?”

“I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry,” Brawna whimpered. “He used magic and the sword to make me describe you. He’s the one who wants to find you so he can steal the King’s Blood-stone. I’m so sorry. I tried to resist him, but I couldn’t.”

“I know,“ Gavin said. ”It’s not your fault. Don’t punish yourself. Ravenkind’s more demon than human.“ He turned to Daia. ”Let’s get goin’. She needs food and rest.” He stood and whistled. Golam trotted over with his head high, dragging his reins in the dirt. Gavin mounted and offered Brawna a hand up. “You can ride with me.”

Chapter 47