The Wayfarer King (36 page)

He steered her toward a cottage at the base of the mountain slope. On the ground outside lay the headless body of a man. The image of Gavin’s cousin’s head in a wooden crate came to mind.
Oh, no. Rogan?
She couldn’t stop staring at the corpse as she approached. Whoever it was had been a big man, possibly the size of Gavin’s brother, with dark hair on his forearms and big hands. As she walked by it, a figure in the doorway drew her attention. The sight of Ravenkind’s black hair and blue eyes made her blood freeze.

Gavin awoke feeling like his skull was caving in. Every time he moved his head, an unseen pickax pounded the back of it like someone was trapped in there, trying to get out. Distantly, he wondered how he’d gotten into bed. He was fully clothed, though he usually slept nude, except he was barefoot. The last thing he remembered was riding back to the inn after a journey through time. The sun was shining through his window, but the light stabbing his eyes hurt so much he thought they might bleed. He stumbled over and shut the blinds. Better. He groped for Aldras Gar leaning against the wall and fell back onto the bed. With the hilt against his chest, he concentrated on pushing his healing magic through the gems. The relief was instant, like cool water poured over a sunburn.

After a few minutes, he was able to rise again without the urge to push the sword through his chest and end it all. Then he remembered that Feanna would be downstairs. The last thing he wanted to do was go down in a foul mood because of a headache. He spent a few more minutes pushing his fluttering white healing energy through the gems. As long as he didn’t turn his head too quickly, the pain was barely noticeable.

He wiped himself clean with a wet cloth and changed his clothes, then set his soiled garments in the hall outside his door. He didn’t know whether the innkeeper’s wife would be able to get the blood out of his tunic, but it was worth a try. Taking slow, even steps, he made it downstairs without the pain returning. In the dining hall, Edan was talking quietly with Tennara and stopped when he entered.

“Where is everyone?” he asked as he joined them at the table.

“Gav, sit down.” Edan’s expression was taut with worry and anxiety. He’d never seen his friend look so grim.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Miss Feanna went out this morning to buy a gift for you,” he said.

“Oh, hell. Where is she? What happened?”

“She never came back. Daia and I went to search for her, thinking she’d gotten lost.”

Gavin’s first thought was that she didn’t want a relationship with him after all. “She went back to Saliria?”

Edan shook his head. “Trevick’s still here. She also left her horse and wagon. There’s more.”

Gavin took the nearby bottle of wine, uncorked it and took a long draw. “All right,” he said. “Tell me.”

“Daia hasn’t come back yet. If Feanna met with foul play, I worry that Daia has as well.”

“Seven hells!” Gavin rose, ready to begin a search.

“Wait, Gav. It gets worse. Sit down. Please.”

“How the hell could it get worse?” Gavin sat back down.

Edan drew a piece of paper from the pages of a book. “This message arrived a few minutes ago.” He read from the paper. “I have them all: Liera, her three sons, your lovely friend Feanna and her darling little orphans, not to mention Dona and Nasharla. If you want to see them alive again, send Daia Saberheart alone to the city center at noon with the jeweled sword and a signed note relinquishing any claim you think you have to the throne. She’ll receive instructions from there. If you follow her, I will execute one member of Rogan’s family. Every hour you delay, I will cut off a finger. It might be a nephew’s, it might be your freckle-faced sister-in-law’s, it might be your bride-to-be’s. If Daia doesn’t arrive by nightfall, then someone will die. Truly, BR.”

Gavin felt the room close in. The air became thin and hard to breathe. This couldn’t be right. How could Ravenkind have them all? They’d been safe, guarded. How would he have known about Feanna? “Wait. What about Rogan? He didn’t mention Rogan.”

Edan pressed his lips together in a mute expression of sorrow. His eyes brimmed with tears. “I’m sorry, Gav. Rogan’s been slain.”

Gavin shot to his feet. “What? Don’t you tell me that, Edan. Don’t you dare.”

Edan rose too. “I wouldn’t torture you with such a thing if it weren’t true.”

Gavin looked at Tennara, and she confirmed it with a sorrowful nod. His eyes began to burn. “Where is he? I want to see him.”

“Gavin, no,” Edan said. “You don’t want that image forever haunting your dreams. Trust me. Your brother’s gone.”

He grabbed Edan by the shirt collar and hauled him up close. “Where the hell is he?”

Edan’s eyes, full of understanding and regret, held his steadily. “Tennara, would you mind?”

The swordswoman left the room. Gavin let him go. He didn’t know what to think. His mind grew numb. Tennara returned carrying a square wooden crate. No. He felt the blood drain from his face. For the sake of King Arek, for the sake of everything good in all the seven realms, let that not be what it appeared. She set it on the table.

The lid was loose, and with trembling hands, he lifted it away. As if in a dream, he saw his hands move the fabric aside. He saw the curling dark hair that resembled his own. He reached in and felt the hard, round object and the small protrusions on the sides like... ears. He lifted it and found himself looking at his brother’s pale face, the expression relaxed but stiff, the eyelids half closed and the deep brown eyes gazing forever downward. No. Rogan, no. It couldn’t be. He stared harder, trying to see it as a stranger, as anyone but Rogan.

A sharp pain ignited his chest as he sank to his knees. His vision blurred. When he blinked to clear it, drops of water trickled down his cheeks. How could he have let this happen? First Arek, then his father, his wife, his daughter, and now his brother. He clutched Rogan to his chest protectively, as if he could shield his brother from harm. His fingers clenched the soft hair. He pressed his lips to the top of Rogan’s cold skull, whispering, “I’m sorry, Rogan, I’m sorry.” What kind of world would it be without him, his only anchor to happier times? It wasn’t until he felt Edan’s arm across his shoulder that Gavin realized he was sobbing. The pain in his chest was excruciating. He could barely breathe. “It’s my fault,” he said in a voice so hoarse he wasn’t sure he’d spoken aloud. “He died because o’me. He would’ve been safe in his home, but I made him come here.”

“You didn’t kill him, Gavin,” Edan said quietly. “Ravenkind did. He probably would have done it no matter where Rogan was. The sooner we find Daia and Miss Feanna, the sooner we can bring him to justice for his crimes.”

Those words were like a splash of water in Gavin’s face. Justice. Yes. No more deaths. No more. He stood and set Rogan gently back into the crate, then covered him with the cloth and the lid. He wiped his palms over his face to dry it. Maybe later he’d feel embarrassed about weeping in front of Edan and Tennara but not yet. He focused his grief into purpose: find Ravenkind and kill that bloody whoreson once and for all, then worry about Ritol. “What’s the plan, then?”

Tennara leaned on the back of a chair. “My liege, we believe Miss Feanna went south to the coffee shop near Canopy Park. Daia started her search in that direction. Perhaps we should go and question the shopkeeper. We should be able to find their trail.”

“If we’re going to Ravenkind’s lair, we’ll need all the Sisters with us. He has Daia, which means he’s more powerful than ever.”

Chapter 46

“Red,” Brodas said, smiling broadly. “You’ve outdone yourself. Welcome, Daia Saberheart. I didn’t expect you so soon. Where’s the sword?”

Red handed him Daia’s sword. “This was the only one she had with her.”

He let the smile fall. “My instructions were clear. You were to bring the jeweled sword and the letter.”

“I merely came looking for someone,” Daia said. “I know nothing about any instructions.”

Could she have left to find Gavin’s lover before the message had been delivered to the inn, he wondered. In that case, he’d gotten her for free. Gavin wouldn’t know where she was, wouldn’t know where to begin looking for her. True, he didn’t have the gems or the abdication, but once Gavin Kinshield was dead, he would essentially have both. And with Miss Daia’s precious power, Kinshield would be dead very soon.

“Put her with the others.”

Red used the point of his sword to guide her into the cottage. Brodas followed them in and removed the gargoyle from the cellar hatch. The other women and six children, sitting on the floor against the walls in the dark, looked up. All wore expressions of defeat. The childrens’ faces were puffy and streaked with tears. Rather than lowering the ladder so Daia could climb down, Red told her to jump in. She sat on the edge of the floor with her legs dangling in.

“Is anyone hurt?” she asked. “Children?”

Feanna shook her head and clutched two of the girls closer.

The older girl’s eyes brightened. “Miss Daia will save us.”

“Daia,” the swordswoman Nasharla said. “Is King Gavin all right?”

“
King
Gavin?” Liera asked in a shrill voice. “Gavin’s the king?”

“No, he’s not the king,” Brodas snapped. “Now, get down there.”

“Yes, he is the king,” Daia said, “and as far as I know he’s fine.” She put her hands on the edge of the floor, scooted her arse off while turning, and hung from her hands. She let go and dropped the remaining few feet to the cellar floor. The older girl threw her arms around Daia’s waist. “How did you get here?”

“A Viragon Sister named Cirang,” Feanna said.

Brodas motioned to Red to shut the hatch. He didn’t care to hear them compare their sad stories of how they wound up in the cellar together. He had a throne to claim.

“Red, go get Cirang,” he said. She’d gone to the city center to await Daia, and Brodas would need her here. He would need both of them.

He retrieved the summoning rune from his satchel then sat with Sevae’s journal open before him. Closing his eyes, Brodas concentrated on what he knew: the rune’s name was Whemorard, and the object of his summoning was Ritol. Soon. Very soon.

When he stilled his thoughts and focused his spirit sense, it was naturally drawn toward the cellar, toward that source of power that Daia possessed. All he had to do was push past her defenses and seize it.

Through the closed hatch door, only tiny slivers of light illuminated the cellar, but after a few minutes Daia’s eyes adjusted to the darkness.

“I’m sorry about Rogan,” Daia told Liera. She made out the shapes of her sons huddled around her, sniffling with grief and fear.

“This is all Gavin’s doing, isn’t it?” Liera asked sharply. “It’s his fault we’re in here. It’s his fault my husband is dead.”

Daia understood her need to blame someone, but she also had a duty to protect Gavin. Liera didn’t know all the facts. “Ravenkind killed him. What Gavin did was keep Ravenkind from becoming king. You can’t blame him for doing the right thing.”

“How can the right thing mean a dead husband and father? Rogan’s never done anything wrong. He was a good man.”

“I know,” Daia said. “I’m sorry. Gavin tried to prevent this very thing. It’s why he assigned guards to protect you.”