The Wayfarer King (9 page)

Hot wax dripped onto his hand. He sucked in his breath, flinching hard enough to nearly drop the candle.
Hell’s bones!
He drizzled the excess wax onto the dirt floor. That was when he noticed a stone, round and flat, on the ground. Some kind of symbol was carved into its surface. He picked it up, blew the dirt off, and examined it more closely. Could this be one of the Runes of Carthis? His heart began to thump. Its shape somewhat resembled those he’d seen in the Rune Tablet that Gavin Kinshield now had in his possession, but this was not one he’d ever seen before. The symbol resembled two squares, one over the other, and beside it a headless stick figure standing beneath a crooked letter T. There was only one rune mentioned in Sevae’s journal: the Rune of Summoning. Could this be it? The very rune Sevae had used two centuries ago to pit the beyonder champion Ritol against King Arek?

Like everyone else, Brodas had grown up hearing stories about Ritol still trapped in the palace. Many believed that Ritol’s presence was the cause for the continued beyonder invasion. After reading the journal, Brodas had come to dismiss those stories as tales parents told their children to frighten them into good behavior. There was no question that Ronor Kinshield had locked the beyonder prince in the palace shortly before it killed King Arek. Even had Sevae not dismissed it, Ritol would have automatically returned to its own realm on the death of its summoner.

Brodas studied the symbol, letting his mind play. He supposed that in some abstract way it could be construed as a man shaded by a tree or umbrella opening a box. Perhaps the shaded man represented the summoner being protected from whatever powers were in the box. His heart was racing now, as certainty fueled his excitement. If this was what he thought it was, he had the power to bring forth this very champion, exactly what he needed to take the throne by force. Let Gavin Kinshield see how well he fared against that.

Brodas dropped the rune into his coin pouch, held the candle between his teeth and carefully climbed the ladder. All he needed to do now was learn to perform the summoning. After closing the cellar’s door, he dripped wax on the table and set the candle’s base into it to hold it upright. Then he retrieved Sevae’s journal and began to scan for mentions of the rune.

The rune itself was not as difficult to obtain as one might imagine, when one understands the royal family as I do. Though the king’s cousin was of diminished wit, he had the body of a young man and the raging lust to go with it. He would do anything, I discovered, for a peek at his budding sister in the nude. With a small bit of mandrake root in her nighttime tea, I used her to great effect. Her brother, it seems, made quite the thief, and his mental defect put him above suspicion when the king noticed the rune missing. Though I now have it in my possession, it is useless to me without its name, which I will undertake to discover.

Yes,
Brodas thought. The rune was useless without the name, but if it was in the journal, he would find it, and when he did, he would call forth his champion and seize his throne.

Chapter 13

With Dona in front and Nasharla taking up the rear, they rode hard for the first few miles, then slowed when they were certain the lordover’s men weren’t on their heels. Gavin hadn’t particularly wanted to begin his relationship with Celónd on a sour note, but the man had worked himself afoam all on his own.

“So you met my father,” Daia asked with a grin. “Charming, isn’t he?”

“Charming isn’t the word I would’ve used.”

“I can’t imagine the two of you would get along.”

“Like a scythe striking stone,” Gavin said with a grin.

Daia laughed. “He’ll ask for an opinion then slam his foot up your backside when you give it. He’s the most arrogant, argumentative, conceited—”

“I got that impression,” Gavin said.

“Which of my sisters did he try to marry you off to? Mildryn? Naome?” A wisp of her dark auburn hair fluttered in the breeze, having come loose from her braid. He realized he’d never seen her hair flowing freely.

Gavin scratched his temple. “Ah, we didn’t get that far. He was too busy kicking me out o’his office.”

“What? You didn’t tell him?”

“Don’t climb up my back, Daia. You don’t know how hard this is.”

“I’m not climbing up your back. I’m defending it. You have your reasons, and that’s good enough for me. I need to know the current situation. I know him better than anyone, remember.”

“He’ll prob’ly shit when he finds out I’m king, huh?” Gavin asked with a grin. “Common buck like me?”

“Yes, he will. Did you really beat Jophet unconscious?”

Gavin put up a hand defensively. “It was his idea. He didn’t want to go to gaol or lose his job over letting you go free.”

“Oh, no,” she said. “If my father discovers he helped you, he’s finished.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

Daia barked a laugh. “His guards are no doubt scouring the city for us both as we speak. You’re the last person he’ll listen to.”

“Once he finds out I’m the king, he’ll change his song.”

“You’d be surprised. He still won’t cooperate unless he has to.” She grinned. “If you agree to marry one of my sisters, I’m sure he’ll forgive your misdeeds.”

He wondered whether her sisters were as comely as Daia was, though it didn’t truly matter. Since he’d have to remarry, he’d prefer a woman who wouldn’t be put off by his scars or his less-than-kingly habits. He was a simple buck used to a simple life chasing criminals and slaying monsters, relaxing with a strong ale at night, and finding a dry place to lay his head. A lordover’s daughter would find him boorish and unappealing. Daia was proof of that.

She eyed him pensively, tapping her chin. “I think of the two eldest, Naome would suit you better.”

“Do we have to talk about this?”

“She’s a good girl, even if she is loud, obnoxious and stubborn.”

He crooked an eyebrow at her. “And you think that’s the kind o’woman that suits me?”

“All right,” she said, “tell me then. What kind of woman do you prefer?”

Gavin honestly didn’t want to be discussing this with Daia. This topic was better suited to Edan, but Edan already knew his preferences. He’d introduced Gavin to Talisha when they were sixteen. Gavin had known the instant he set eyes on her that she was the one.

“You prefer them quiet and obedient?”

“Hardly. I appreciate all women, no matter their charms.” He eyed her up and down with a sloppy grin. “Even the tough ones who pretend they ain’t really women.”

“Don’t say ain’t. And I don’t pretend I’m not a woman.”

“Whatever you say.”

The sun was sinking into the cloudless western sky when they broke through the trees on Rogan’s property. Gavin’s nephews GJ and Jaesh clacked wooden swords together, laughing and taunting each other. From the way GJ lunged forward and back, his leg looked completely healed. Gavin couldn’t have said he was surprised.

“Uncle Gavin!” they cried in unison, running toward the riders.

Gavin smiled broadly and wondered how he would deliver the news that they were now princes. Or were they? GJ rushed to his side and reached up. Gavin grasped his arms to pull him onto Golam’s back, facing him. The boy’s legs stretched across Gavin’s thighs, and Gavin held him steady by one arm. “My leg’s all better, Uncle Gavin! Papa said you healed me. Is that true?”

He gave a noncommittal shrug. “Could be.” He took the scabbard from his back and passed it to Jaesh. “Take a look at this,” he said, “but be careful. This blade’s much sharper than my old one.”

“Aiy, Uncle Gavin, snakes! This is lofty!” Jaesh exclaimed, taking the weapon. As they continued walking the horses toward the house, he whistled in appreciation. “Look at these gems.”

GJ cast a glance at Daia. “Who’s she?” he whispered.

“Daia, meet my nephews Jaesh and GJ. This is Daia Saberheart.”

“A pleasure,” she said.

He gestured for his two guards to come forward. “That’s Dona and Nasharla.”

“Whoa, real Viragon Sisters,” Jaesh said.

“What do you know about the Sisterhood?” Daia asked.

“My papa says their battlers can cut your head off as cleanly as any man could.”

She smiled. “Your papa speaks truly.”

“My name’s Gavin too,” GJ told her, “but everyone calls me GJ. That stands for Gavin Junior.” He stood on Golam’s back, balancing with Gavin’s hands on his waist. He stepped around Gavin and wrapped himself around Gavin from behind.

Gavin held onto the boy’s hands clasped at his throat. “Ready? Hold tight now.” He dismounted with GJ clinging to his back, letting out a long, exaggerated groan. “You’re getting too big and I’m getting too old for that.” GJ released his hold and slid to the ground.

Daia dismounted as well and began to loosen her saddle and remove her armor. “Another nephew?” She lifted her chin toward a boy standing against the house. He looked about Jaesh’s age with short blond hair but stood a few inches shorter. He wore a shirt sized for a man and a curious expression on his face.

“Who might you be?” Gavin asked as he removed his cuirass.

“Trevick, my lord.”

“This is my Uncle Gavin,” Jaesh said. “And that’s Daia Saberheart. She’s a Viragon Sister. GJ, run tell Papa that Uncle Gavin’s here.”

GJ took off as instructed, with no evidence of a limp in his gait. Gavin wondered how Rogan was handling the gossip and speculation. In a community this small, word about GJ’s injury would have spread quickly and word about his miraculous recovery even more so, and more widely.

“Do you live nearby, Trevick?” Daia asked.

The boy nodded and pointed east. “A couple of plots over.”

Rogan stepped out the front door as he pulled on a shirt. “Little Brother! Didn’t think we’d see you again so soon. Glad you could come. We got a pig roasting. Are you hungry?”

“Always,” Gavin said. He embraced his brother tightly and shared a few good-natured slams on the back, each one trying to hit harder than the other. Then he introduced his brother to Daia.

She leaned forward to shake his hand. “My pleasure. The family resemblance is remarkable. You two could almost be twins.”

“’Cept Gavin looks like he been trampled by a herd o’beyonders. Nice to meet you. We got a gathering going on in the back. Come on around.”

“Gavin,” Liera said gaily, walking out. “You’re home!” She reached to hug him, and he swept her into his arms and twirled her around, then planted a kiss on her cheek as he set her back on her feet. “Look at you! You’re too lean, and you need a haircut. It’s a good thing we’re roasting today. I can fatten you up.”

“I doubt you have enough food for that.” When he introduced her to Daia, he caught a glimpse of disappointment in Liera’s eye, or perhaps surprise. Whatever it was disappeared quickly, and she welcomed Daia into her home as though they’d been friends for years.

Then a woman stepped out, a beauty who took Gavin’s very breath away.

Chapter 14

When Feanna stepped outside, her attention was drawn immediately to a taller, younger, more muscular version of Rogan. His face was marred by two long scars, but she was captivated by his beautiful dark-brown eyes hooded by a prominent brow. This must be Gavin, about whom Liera talked incessantly. When their eyes met, time seemed to slow. The sound of her heartbeat filled her ears. Even across the dozen feet that separated them, she felt his presence loom large, dominating not only her attention but that of everyone nearby. A peculiar strength emanated from him, the kind that drew people in. The kind that engendered trust and confidence, that prompted a nod from passersby, that encouraged stray dogs to fall into step beside him. He was big, this man — not only in size, but in some intangible, indescribable sense that he was more, much more than he seemed.