Her Knight's Quest: A Warriors of the Mist Novel Read online

  Then he grinned at her. “I couldn’t have done better myself. You got all the tenses right and even caught the subtle nuances of the idiom the author used in the second paragraph.”

  “Truly?”

  “Truly. You obviously have a gift for languages.”

  His approval warmed her straight through. She’d met few men in her life who appreciated women who were their equal or superior in education. Even most of the other sisters protected the library out of duty, not out of love for the knowledge contained within its walls.

  This connection with Duncan was special, a gift to cherish. She smiled back at him, two scholars enjoying the moment.

  “You remind me so much of my mother.”

  All right, that wasn’t quite the connection she was feeling. The woman had obviously meant a lot to Duncan, but rather than feeling complimented by the comparison, Lavinia felt mildly insulted. “Your mother?”

  His smile softened and his striking eyes twinkled. “You’re the first person I’ve met since her death who understands the simple pleasure to be had in acquiring knowledge for its own sake.”

  Then the focus of his eyes dropped down to her mouth and back up again. “But to make myself clear, what I feel for you is something entirely different.”

  “And what do you feel for me?”

  “Something I shouldn’t.” He leaned closer. “This.”

  His mouth settled over hers, a soft brush of lips and then another. In no mood to be teased, she dropped the paper and captured his face with both hands. He immediately deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping across hers, hot and demanding.

  This time neither of them held back. Now that she had Duncan’s full attention, she pressed against the hard planes of his chest and dug her fingertips into his shoulders. He responded by wrapping one arm around her waist while he spread his other hand on the curve of her hips, lifting her up to her tiptoes.

  Her conscience told her they should stop, that this behavior was out of bounds for an abbess, even one who hadn’t sworn to give her life over to the service of the gods. But right at that moment, she wanted nothing else as much as she wanted to savor this small bit of pleasure.

  They both knew their mutual attraction was a momentary thing, two like-minded souls reaching out to each other. It was about proximity, not permanency. And wasn’t that a sad, sad thought?

  “Ahem.”

  Lavinia wanted to curse. As tempting as it was to try to ignore Sister Joetta, duty came before pleasure. Duncan knew it, too. He immediately backed away, but there was no mistaking the regret in his expression. That gave her the courage to face her friend.

  “Yes, Sister Joetta?”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt your, um”—she paused to look from Lavinia toward Duncan and back—“studies. However, there are armed riders approaching from the direction of Trader Musar’s winter quarters.”

  “Thank you, Joetta. Sir Duncan and I will join you shortly.”

  She returned to the table where they’d been working and gathered up the books they’d used. “We should return these to the shelves first.”

  Joetta nodded and withdrew. Duncan hung back, giving Lavinia some much-needed time to gather her scattered thoughts.

  The abbey had always welcomed visitors of all kinds with open doors, offering hearty food and clean beds to anyone who journeyed through the valley below. Lavinia hated changing that policy, but right now she had no other choice.

  If Lavinia were an ordinary sister, she wouldn’t have considered changing the open-door rules. But in her case, her brother Ifre hunted her for far more sinister reasons. He either wanted her magical gifts to feed his need for power, or he wanted her dead. There would be no compromise, no love lost between the two siblings.

  The blood magic coins had been only the beginning. Ifre wouldn’t stop. The memory of him staring up at her through her own scrying bowl still gave her a deep sense of terror when she thought about it.

  Duncan’s hands slipped around her waist again, this time holding her gently within the safe harbor of his arms. “I’ll make sure the guards are well trained, Lavinia. If they are as good as Musar promised, they’ll be able to defend the abbey against attack, even from a much larger force.”

  “I don’t want anyone to die defending us.”

  “It may not come to that, not if our search provides the answers we’re looking for. We’ve already made good progress today. Once I get the men settled in their quarters, I’ll continue the search later this evening.”

  She rested her head against his shoulder. “What will you do when you find the answers?”

  What a foolish question, when she already knew his response. He’d leave.

  “My friends and I will use the information to put a stop to Duke Keirthan’s evil.”

  “And if you can’t stop him?”

  He didn’t answer at first. Finally, he said, “The Damned have never failed to protect those we’ve been sent to champion, Lavinia.”

  She tried to take comfort in that, but had they ever faced someone like her brother?

  “Shall we go meet the guards?”

  Duncan pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. “Yes, before it gets any later. They’ll be tired from riding all day, but I want to evaluate their skills as soon as possible.”

  “We need to restore the wards before we go. Do you want to try?”

  A new layer of tension rippled through Duncan before he released her. He stepped away and faced the back corner of the room. Bringing up his hands, palms out, he repeated the words she’d drilled him on earlier. As he spoke them, the words seemed to hang in the air, shimmering with power.

  Then the wards snapped back into place with a loud crackle. They wavered a bit and then settled down. Duncan stared at the display of power with something akin to horror in his expression.

  “Well done.”

  He glanced down at her, his mouth set in a grim frown. “I was truly hoping that it wouldn’t work. I’m not sure how the Lady of the River will feel about one of her warriors learning to invoke magic.”

  “What will happen if she disapproves?”

  He shrugged. “It is impossible to know. Each time we return to the water’s edge, we face her judgment not as individuals but as a group. What one does affects us all.”

  “That hardly seems fair.”

  His laugh was bitter. “The gods don’t concern themselves with being fair. We made a bargain with the Lady, my friends and I, and we will honor that agreement.”

  “And if she doesn’t approve of your efforts?”

  “Let’s worry about today’s problems,” Duncan said as he started toward the door.

  Even though Duncan avoided responding to her question directly, she could guess at the answer. He and his friends weren’t called the Damned for no reason. If they failed to meet the goddess’s expectations, they would pay dearly for that failure.

  It wasn’t fair. Yet as Duncan said, the gods didn’t worry about such things. As she followed Duncan out the door, she prayed this time would be different for him.

  * * *

  Duncan studied the twelve men lined up in front of him. They varied in size, coloring, and manner of dress but were identical in the ways that really mattered. When he’d asked them to lay out all of their weapons for inspection, the results had been impressive in both quantity and quality.

  How many of them had known Rubar or the other guard? He didn’t bother to ask, figuring Musar would’ve explained the situation to them. If they’d had a problem with Duncan, they could’ve turned down the job. Or else, one or more could be waiting for an opportune moment to seek revenge. Not being a mind reader, all he could do was proceed as if he trusted them and keep a wary eye out for an ambush.

  He stepped back from the table. “Pick up your weapons, and then partner up for some sword practice.”

  As he waited, he overheard one of the men grumble about having been in the saddle all day. Duncan had been expecting to hear something of
the kind. In fact, he’d been hoping for it.

  He scanned the group, acting as if he didn’t know who was responsible for the complaint.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize in this part of the world that bandits only attack caravans when they know the guards are rested and at their sharpest.”

  Josup, who appeared to be the unofficial leader of the group, shot one of his companions a disgusted look. “The only well-rested guards I know are either out of work or dead.”

  He turned his attention back to Duncan. “You be wanting to see if we can earn our keep protecting the sisters. I might be wondering the same thing about you.”

  Duncan grinned at him and drew his own sword. “Fair enough. Shall we?”

  The two faced off while the others stood back to watch from a safe distance. It didn’t take long for everyone to know that Duncan was the better swordsman, but only just. Josup had nothing to be embarrassed about. Against most anyone else, he would’ve had little trouble either disarming or dismembering his opponent.

  Duncan sheathed his sword and held out his hand to his opponent. Josup grinned as he clasped Duncan’s hand in a firm grip. “It’s been a while since I’ve faced someone of your talent, Sir Duncan. I wouldn’t want to face you in a battle for real.”

  “I’ll take that for the compliment it is and say the same about you.” He turned back to the others. “Well, the two of us know what we can do. Let’s see how the rest of you measure up.”

  This time there was no hesitation or grumbling. Josup joined in to keep the numbers even while Duncan circled around, making suggestions as he did. Overall, he was impressed. Musar had chosen well. Granted, these men were used to fighting from horseback while guarding the caravans, but their footwork was far from shoddy.

  He didn’t know about them, but he’d had enough for one evening. After all, he still had hours of work ahead of him in the library.

  “Halt!”

  The men formed up in front of him, breathing hard but still at attention. “We need to stand guard over the abbey. Four six-hour shifts of three men each. You can partner up as you see fit. If no one volunteers to take the first shift, we can draw straws or throw dice.”

  It didn’t surprise him that Josup already had his two partners picked out. “We’ll take the first shift.”

  “Good. I’ll ask Sister Margaret to send out food and drink for you. The rest of you eat and then get some rest. You’re going to need it. I’ll be working with each group of you for an hour before you go on duty. Any questions?”

  Several of the men looked to Josup and then down to the ground. He gave them all a disgusted look as he stepped forward. “Trader Musar told us about what happened with Rubar and Teo. He said that you killed both men in defense of Lady Lavinia.”

  “That’s true. I did.”

  Josup looked a bit surprised. Did he think that Duncan would’ve lied about it? Or that he’d offer excuses? His honor would’ve demanded he speak the truth even if there hadn’t been an entire room full of witnesses to the fight.

  Duncan stood tall and met Josup’s hard expression directly. “I didn’t know Teo, but Rubar was a good man, one who was kind to me. I regret his death more than you can imagine, but know that I had no choice.”

  Another of the men spoke up. “Musar said that as well. If he hadn’t vouched for you, we wouldn’t be here.”

  A third joined the conversation. “You’re likely to be wondering if any of us bears a grudge and if you need to be careful of turning your back on us.”

  Duncan crossed his arms over his chest, not sure where this was headed. “The thought did cross my mind.”

  Josup took a step forward. “In battle, your life depends on the man standing next to you. If you can’t trust him, then you’re fighting enemies on two fronts. Musar and his wife both testified that it was blood magic that caused the death of our friends, not you. Their word is good enough for us.”

  “Fair enough. If any of you have questions, I prefer you come to me directly. If you have suggestions on how to make the abbey safer from attack, let me know.”

  Before anyone else could speak, the dinner bell rang. Perfect timing. “After dinner, I have work to do in the library. If you have need of me, have the sisters send for me.”

  Then in a show of faith, he turned his back on them and walked away.

  * * *

  Upon entering the dining hall, he joined the men at the corner table, the same one Rubar and the other guards had used. As he sat down, he spotted Lavinia at her usual spot at the head table. There was an empty seat next to her. Had it been for him? Possibly, considering the odd expression on her face when she noticed him back in the corner.

  He hadn’t wanted to presume that she’d want him there. He also thought it best to distance himself from her, especially in front of the other sisters and the new guards. Her reputation could suffer, something a woman in her position could scarce afford.

  He let himself be drawn into the conversation among the guards. From what he could gather, they’d all served together at various times over the years. Musar had done a good job in selecting the men, a debt Duncan would likely never get the chance to repay.

  He would make sure Lavinia knew, though. She’d sleep better knowing the men who patrolled the abbey knew what they were doing. As the various courses were brought to the table, he watched as she carried on an animated conversation with Sister Joetta and Sarra, the young novice.

  As if sensing his gaze, the young girl turned in his direction and smiled. He nodded back to her. She’d lost so much in her young life, yet she’d retained much of her innocence. It infuriated Duncan to know that as long as Ifre Keirthan ruled Agathia, she’d never be safe. The bastard had much to answer for.

  And if it took every last breath Duncan had, he would see to it the man faced a reckoning. All of which made him wonder how his friends were faring. He wasn’t used to being isolated from them like this.

  Tonight, after he finished in the library, he would send Kiva flying back to Gideon. The captain would want to know what progress Duncan had made. At the same time, Duncan needed even that tenuous connection with his friends. Watching the easy camaraderie among the guards had reminded him of how lonely he was without the other Damned.

  Once again, he found himself watching Lavinia. If Gideon were here, he could talk to him about this jumble of feelings he had for her. Surely Gideon would understand, what with his own powerful connection to Lady Merewen. Come to think of it, Duncan also owed Murdoch an apology.

  Averel wasn’t the only one who’d teased the big man about Lady Alina. But then none of them expected to encounter such women in their lives. It was just another reminder of how much they’d all lost when they’d offered their souls and their service to the Lady.

  Feeling the weight of his past, he sipped his wine and stared at the one woman he’d ever met who could have laid claim to his heart.

  Chapter 16

  “My dear sister, it is past time for you to return to the family home. . . .”

  Ifre Keirthan stood warming himself beside the circle of fire in his underground chambers and considered his options. His efforts to trace his sister’s scrying had netted him nothing—how dare she go to such lengths to hide from him?

  Now he would have to resort to tracking the coins instead. It was definitely a more complicated spell, but one that should produce more reliable results. He returned to the altar and began his preparations. First, he hung a fresh map of Agathia and the surrounding lands on the wall.

  He’d spent a great deal of money to obtain the most accurate map in existence, one drawn by a master cartographer from the trading clans. Some of the routes through the mountains were known only to the clans, and it was information they didn’t share with anyone. Ever. But with enough money coupled with the right threats on the table, it was possible to pervert the loyalty of anyone, even a mapmaker.

  A movement behind him drew Ifre’s attention back to the altar. He smiled as he
turned to face the woman who was chained to the four pillars that formed the cornerstones of the altar.

  “Ah, yes, you are awake now.”

  He drank in the luscious sound of her whimpers, soaking in the extra spice of fear and dread in the woman’s voice. She must know what was coming. She should. This was her third time to offer her up her blood to fuel his spells. Each time, the magic she provided was weaker, which meant he’d have to burn more of his own reserves. He’d have to replace her soon.

  He drew his dagger, the blade once again a dull silver. When he finished feeding the steel from the woman and then his own vein, it would be pulsing crimson and ready to invoke the tracking spell he’d built into the coins. Once he learned the direction of their paths, he would send the troops out to fetch his sister.

  He couldn’t wait. The magic in Lavinia’s veins would garner him enough strength to bring the entire country to heel. Once he had all of Agathia firmly within his grasp, it would be time to seize power beyond his own borders. After all, power begat power—magic even more so.

  Already he’d unleashed far more magic than his late brother had in all the years he’d served as duke. Once Ifre had perfected control of his weapon, he would strike at will. No one would dare stand against him.

  Tomorrow, after he’d rested from the effort it took to search for Lavinia, he’d attack within the kingdom again. The last burst had hit somewhere close to Lord Fagan’s estate. Soon he would aim at the keep itself. Blasting Lady Merewen’s home out of existence would serve as a good example to any other potential traitors.

  His plans made, it was time to get to work. He opened the book to the right page. He’d memorized the words but preferred to read the actual text to avoid any mistakes. Carelessness would prove deadly to him, not just his victim.

  Right before Armel’s death, Ifre had found several of the banned grimoires in a locked chest that had been handed down to his brother. Their existence had been a bit of a shock, considering his father had ordered all such books to be gathered up and destroyed.