The Wayfarer King (30 page)

When Gavin stepped out of the bathing room, freshly shaved, scrubbed nearly raw from head to toe, and dressed in clean clothes, Edan was sitting alone in the dining hall, reading. Gavin’s heart sank. “She’s not back yet?” he asked as he joined his friend at the table.

“Any minute now, I’m sure,” Edan replied with a grin. He closed the book he’d been reading. “Have a seat and tell me about your travels, starting with your very interesting visit in Saliria.”

Gavin ran quickly through the events, knowing he had little time to summarize before Feanna and the children returned. He would have time later to answer Edan’s questions in detail. Daia walked in carrying a jingling mass of silver.

“I thought perhaps you wouldn’t have time to get your new armor once Miss Feanna returned, so I picked it up for you. Let’s try it on.”

He stood, and Daia helped pull it over his head and shoulders. Though the new armor suit was handsome and fit well, he wasn’t used to the weight or bulk, not to mention the loudness of its movement. The hauberk reached his midthigh when he stood straight. “At least it covers the royal gems,” he said, looking down at himself.

Edan grinned. “We have to ensure an heir, after all. How does it fit?”

“Well enough, I guess.” He took his sword to the center of the room and made a few practice swings. “Doesn’t bind.”

“Good. Thodas said to let him know if it needs adjustment. He can add or remove links to improve the fit.”

“He did a good job measuring.” Gavin lunged and reached with his sword, spun and sliced. “It’s loud, though.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Daia said.

He resheathed his sword and pulled the hauberk off with her help. “I’m afraid to ask what it cost.”

She took it from him. “Don’t. I’m going to bathe. I’ll set it in your room on my way.” She headed upstairs.

Gavin sat back down and leaned Aldras Gar against the table. “The Lordover Tern’s going to be mighty red when he gets the bill.”

Edan gaped. “That was her plan? To send the bill to her father?” He put a hand to his brow and shook his head. “Hell’s bones. I thought she was going to give the armorsmith a marker.”

Small voices carried from the inn’s great hall, along with light footsteps on slate floors. Feanna’s two youngest girls, the blond Jilly and dark-haired Tansa, rounded the corner, each carrying a small rag doll. Gavin stood and called to them, smiling.

“Lord Gavin!” they cried in unison and ran to him. He squatted to receive their embraces and planted a kiss on each girl’s cheek.

Iriel came in next and greeted him with a smile and quick curtsy. “Is Miss Daia back too?”

“Yeh, she’ll be down in a bit.”

Then Feanna entered the hall, her honey-colored hair gently windswept. Her eyes widened when she saw him, and a smile lit up her face. Gavin didn’t think about the proper way to greet the lady he’d only recently begun courting. He let his heart guide his body and took her into his arms. His mind knew in some distant way that this was not proper, appropriate behavior for a king, especially with an audience, but it felt natural. Instead of resisting his embrace, she clung to him as tightly, pressing her cheek against his. He drew back and found her lips. She opened to him, and he tasted her hungrily. Her hand stroked his hair as their tongues entwined and danced. Deep in his throat, a moan began, echoing the longing in his heart, his soul, and his groin. He wanted her in every way, more deeply than he’d imagined he could. It astonished him. He didn’t expect to ever feel this way about a woman again.

The girls started to giggle.

When Gavin felt Feanna falter and hesitate, he ended their kiss. He drew back to look again into her beautiful eyes, gray like a storm. Nose to nose with her, he chuckled. “I’m so glad to see you. It’s a long way to travel, though. Is something wrong? ”

“Not anymore.” She stepped out of his embrace. “Once we’ve had a chance to talk, you’ll understand.”

Trevick hung back looking both shy and eager.

Gavin put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “How now, Trevick. You’ve been looking out for my lady, have you?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“My thanks. You look hungry. Why don’t we sit for a meal. It should be ready soon.”

At Daia’s and Edan’s insistence, Gavin had become accustomed to sitting at the head of the table, with Edan on his right and Daia on his left. Now Edan gave his seat to Feanna. Daia moved down to put Edan at Gavin’s left. However they wanted to sit was fine with him, as long as he had a good view of Feanna and didn’t have to strain to hear her. The seat beside him was perfect. When the children lined up to sit next to her, the innkeeper tried to herd them to another table.

“No,” Gavin told him. “They’ll dine with us. This is supper, not a council.”

“Can I sit beside Miss Daia?” Iriel asked.

“Of course you may,” Daia answered. She pulled out the chair beside her and patted it.

Gavin invited Trevick to take the seat at the opposite end, facing him.

They enjoyed a leisurely meal entertained by stories about the brawl at the Lucky Inn that Gavin swore he had no part in starting, Golam’s misadventure in the woods, and Gavin’s visit with the Stronghammers. Edan shared parts of his conversation with the lordover, most likely embellishing for Daia’s amusement. Feanna described their journey to Tern. When she tried to skip the part where their escort battled beyonders, Iriel filled in the details.

“Is it true?” Iriel asked. “Are you the king?”

Everyone quieted instantly.

“It’s true,” Gavin said solemnly. He looked at Feanna to judge her reaction, but she had none. Edan must have told her. “But it’s a secret for now. Only those of us in this inn know it and a few others.”

“What’s going to happen to us?” Tansa asked.

Confusion crossed Feanna’s face. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

“Trevick says when you and Lord Gavin marry, we’ll have to live in a orfrininge.”

Gavin couldn’t have been more shocked. “Whoa, wait a minute. Nobody here’s going to live in an orphanage.”

“But Miss Feanna went to see it today,” Iriel said. “We thought she was making arrangements.”

“Oh, darling, no!” Feanna cried. “I went there to find out if the children were being cared for properly and to see if they needed help. Lord Gavin’s right. No orphanage for you. Where I go, you go. Understood?” She looked at each of the children in turn and waited for them to nod their understanding.

After supper, Gavin held Feanna’s hand while everyone told stories and laughed. When pressed again about the reason for his missing tooth, he dug deep into his memory for the stories he’d told his daughter that weren’t too violent or sexual. “One night, when I was sleeping in the forest, a magical twillibeast woke me. He said he lost his horn, and he needed a tooth from a human to grow it back.” The children laughed, but they didn’t believe him. Every minute he spent in Feanna’s presence lifted his heart. Her laugh was a delight to his ears, and he loved the crooked teeth in front that made her smile that much more charming.

When the children began to yawn, no longer captivated by the stories, Feanna rose to get them dressed for bed, promising she would be back shortly. When Gavin got up to help, she wouldn’t have it. He was the king. There would be others to see to things like that. He disagreed, but he didn’t want to argue with her in front of everyone. If he was going to be a father to her children, he would act like a father and not a lord.

“Trevick,” he said, motioning with his head. “Come with me outside for a moment.”

Trevick swallowed hard and got the flighty look in his eye of a boy who thought he was about to be reprimanded.

Gavin put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You’re not in trouble. Worry not.”

The night wasn’t as cool as nights had been recently, a sign that summer would soon be upon them. Crickets chirped from the weeds and grass that grew between the buildings, and fireflies blinked lazily in the air.

“I’d like a word with you about your future,” Gavin said. He sat on the steps and patted the step beside him, inviting Trevick to sit. “And about Miss Feanna’s.”

“Yes, my lord-- um, I mean, my liege.” Trevick’s hands shook, and he kept his eyes firmly fixed on the ground.

“I don’t make any secret of my interest in her. I hope she likes me too. Something you’ll learn about people as you get older is that everyone has unhappiness in their past. I was an orphan too.”

“Truly? I didn’t know.”

Gavin nodded. “My mama died when I was five, and my papa when I was twelve. My brother tried his best to see me the rest o’the way to adulthood, but he was barely more than a boy hisself. I didn’t have my papa anymore, but I did get a second father o’sorts.”

“Did you get adopted?”

“Not formally. Edan’s father stepped in, tried to give me the guidance I needed. Since he was the Lordover Lalorian, just hearing him say my name was enough to make me piss myself, so I have some idea what you might be feeling.”

Trevick chuckled.

“I’ll tell you what he told me. I can’t replace your papa. Nobody can. But if you’ll let me, I’ll do the things your papa would’ve done. I’ll teach you how to become a man, how to carve out a place for yourself in the world.” Assuming, of course, he survived what was to come.

Trevick nodded, biting his lip nervously. “What would you ask of me?”

Gavin leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and grinned. “Find out what Miss Feanna’s favorite flowers are and let me know. Quietly.”

Trevick smiled. “Yes, my liege.”

“To be clear, you can always talk to me about anything, awright, Trevick? Whatever worries you have, I want to hear them.”

The clopping of hooves on stone grew louder, as did the jingle and creak of saddles and tack. Gavin knew who his visitor was before the man had come close enough to see clearly in the dim light of the rising moon. Gavin gestured with his head at the approaching riders. “Looks like the lordover’s come to lip-shine my boots for me.” He stood and offered his hand to help Trevick up. “Want an introduction?”

“Not really.”

Gavin chuckled and bid him good night.

The two Sisters standing guard outside took positions in front of Gavin and slightly to each side as the riders approached. Their horses high-stepped in time with each other as if they’d been trained for some kind of ceremony. Their manes were styled into braids and loops. It looked like something the hens would laugh at. Gavin would cut the hand off anyone who tried to do that to Golam.

“Announcing His Excellency, Dashel Venn Celónd, Lordover Tern,” the lead man said. He bowed and stepped away to the side with a sweep of his arm.

The Lordover Tern rode up on his prim, prancing horse and stopped. Gavin almost expected him to dismount onto a velvet pillow, but he climbed down like a regular buck. The lordover approached and bowed with a flourish. “Your Royal Majesty,” he said, his head still low and his arm still swept across his chest. He seemed to wait for Gavin to say something. Gavin was amused by the display and wanted to see what would happen next. At last, the lordover straightened. “Good evening.” Behind the horses, a footman was helping a young lady out of a carriage.
Oh, hell. Not now.

“Last time I saw you, Celónd, you were insulting my character and kicking me out o’your office.”

For one brief moment, Celónd looked aghast. “You hadn’t given me a chance to know you, my lord.”

“I believe the proper way to address a king is ’my liege,’ my lord.”

Celónd shot him a spiteful smile. “Of course, my liege. If you would allow me to introduce my beautiful daughter, Naome Dashia Celónd.”

“You may as well save your breath.”

The girl approached and curtsied low, dirtying her frilly, yellow gown on the street. “Your majesty,” she said in a breathy tone he imagined was supposed to be enticing. “It’s my life’s greatest honor to meet you.” She cast her eyes down. There was little chance she would know him on the street if they met during the daylight.

Gavin rolled his eyes. He should have tried harder to convince Edan to be king. “It’s my pleasure.”

She offered her hand. He thought he was supposed to bow over it and kiss it or something, but his lips were only for Feanna. He bowed, but he didn’t kiss.

“Good evening, Father.” Daia came out and stood beside Gavin.

“Dashielle,” Celónd said. “Nice to see you’re alive.”

“Her name’s Daia now,” Gavin said, “and she’s my champion, so I expect her to receive the same respect and courtesy you’ll show all the members o’my staff.”

Celónd pressed his lips together and said nothing.

“’Omie,” Daia said gently as she leaned in to kiss her sister’s cheek. “It’s lovely to see you.” Her eyes glistened.

“Daia,” Naome said, smiling. “Mother will be so glad to know you’re well.”

“Perhaps we could go inside.” Celónd gestured as though to usher Gavin into the inn.

“It’s late,” Gavin said. “We’ve had a tiring day. Another time, maybe.” He bowed toward Naome. “My lady, sorry you got dressed up for nothing. You should know that I’m already courting a lady and won’t be considering any others unless she declines my proposal.”

“Now, Gavin,” Celónd said, “your choice of a bride needn’t be made in haste.”