Her Knight's Quest: A Warriors of the Mist Novel Page 18

  He saved the captain’s talisman for the last. Ifre had already given him the one he’d prepared specially for dear Lavinia. As he shook the man’s hand, applause rang out from the crowd that had gathered to watch the troop’s departure.

  Ifre retreated to the highest step as the men mounted up. They moved out in formation, the horses’ hooves clattering on the stone road, and the pennant bearing the Duke of Agathia’s family sigil waving in the air.

  All very dramatic. All very satisfying.

  And when they succeeded in dragging Lavinia back to the capital, Ifre’s real play for power would begin.

  * * *

  Leaving his lover’s bed to return to his own was one of the hardest things Duncan had ever done. Lavinia’s quarters were warded against intrusion, but one of the sisters might come knocking at any time. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass her.

  Right now, all they could wonder was why he hadn’t moved in with the rest of the guards. If anyone were to see him leaving her room in the early hours of the morning, it would remove all doubt about the new turn in their relationship.

  He paused to stretch his muscles in the pale light of early dawn. The sun had barely crested the horizon, leaving the garden still heavily shadowed, the night not quite ready to relinquish its hold on the world. He breathed deeply and smiled. The air was sweetened by the fragrance of the pale moonflowers, their blossoms already closing with the first kiss of the morning light.

  The flowers slowly folding in on themselves reminded him that time was quickly passing. The guards would be changing shifts soon, and he wanted to check in with the men before they sought out their own pallets. If there’d been any problems, they would’ve sent word, but he still liked to know if their patrol had passed quietly.

  Before he reached the door of his room, he paused. Someone was spying on him. He sensed the irritating weight of their gaze targeted right between his shoulder blades but couldn’t figure out where they were hiding. The only vantage point that made sense was the window that looked out into the garden from Lavinia’s office. Moving slowly, as if still studying the flowers in the garden, Duncan made his way around to where he could casually look in that direction.

  No enemy could’ve made it that far without the alarm being raised, so it had to be one of the sisters. The only question was how long had she been watching before he’d noticed?

  Had she seen him slipping out of Lavinia’s room?

  When he finally saw the spy, his tension drained away. What was Sarra doing in Lavinia’s office at this hour? He forced a smile on his face and headed toward the door.

  “Hey, little one, you’re awake early. Did you need Lady Lavinia for something?”

  When Sarra didn’t immediately respond, he knelt down to her eye level. Still, she stared through him, as if completely unaware of his presence. She had that same odd look in her eyes he’d seen before when the spirits had spoken through her.

  He touched her face, hoping that bit of contact might bring her back out of the trance she was trapped in. Her skin was cold to the touch, and her lips were tinged with blue. Fear for the little girl had him up and running back outside to Lavinia’s door and already calling her name.

  He found her sitting up, the blankets pooled around her waist. Ordinarily he would have paused to drink in the sight of all that creamy skin gleaming in the soft yellow glow of the mage light. Not this time, however, with little Sarra in trouble.

  “It’s Sarra. She’s standing in your office. She wouldn’t speak, and her skin is ice-cold.”

  “I’ll be right there,” Lavinia said as she left her bed. “Take my blanket to wrap her in. This isn’t the first time we’ve found her wandering about the abbey awake and yet sleeping.”

  Sarra didn’t appear to be asleep to him, but perhaps Lavinia had the right of it. He hoped so. Grabbing the blanket, still warm from Lavinia’s body, he hurried back to Sarra. She stood in the exact same spot, staring at the garden with glassy eyes. He wrapped her in the blanket.

  “Lady Lavinia is on her way, Sarra. When she gets here, tell us what is wrong.”

  There. Finally, a small flicker of awareness flashed across her face, but then it was gone again. Still, it gave him hope. He pulled her into his arms and carried her outside to the bench to sit in the first bright beams of sunlight, hoping their warmth would get through to her.

  Lavinia, her hair tousled from the night’s activity, hurried out of her room, still fastening the belt of her robes. The sight stole his breath, but he forced his attention back to Sarra.

  Lavinia joined them on the bench, slipping her arm around her young friend’s thin shoulders. “Sarra, what’s wrong? Can you talk to me?”

  No response. Seeing the little girl caught up in a sticky web of magic made Duncan want to strike out, but his sword was useless against an invisible enemy. Sarra was so cold. Mayhap he could do something about that.

  “You stay with her while I run to the kitchen and fetch some hot tea for her. For all of us.”

  Duncan had gone but two steps when Sarra abruptly spoke. Or someone spoke through her.

  “Duncan, Warrior of the Mist, Damned by the gods and yet their avatar.”

  He spun back to face the girl, unsure how to react. Finally, he whispered, “I am here.”

  Sarra tipped her face up as if to look at him even though her eyes remained unblinking. “You will find the answers you seek, but you must hurry. Men ride this way, seeking, hunting. If they find you . . .”

  She paused to glance in Lavinia’s direction. “Or if they find your lady or me, all will be lost. Everything you and the Damned have done will be for naught.”

  He forced himself to speak calmly. “What men are coming, Sarra?”

  “The men with no will, their souls and hearts devoured by the evil one whose mark they bear. He has set them upon the trail of the coins. That path will lead them straight here.”

  Lavinia joined the conversation. “Sarra, when will these men get here? And whose mark do they bear?”

  The little girl tilted her head to the side and frowned, her posture far too adult for one of her few years. “Soon. Days, not weeks. They come in number.”

  Tears streaked down Sarra’s face. “He has used all her magic, and now she lies dying. It’s what will happen to all of us.”

  “Who, Sarra? Who is dying?”

  For the first time, she answered with a child’s voice and a child’s grief. “My mother. The bad man has used her all up.”

  When she started sobbing, Duncan’s heart broke.

  * * *

  “Is she resting quietly?”

  It was the third time since Sarra had cried herself to sleep that Duncan had poked his head into Lavinia’s office to check on the little girl. They’d coaxed her into eating a few bites of honeyed porridge and then drinking some tea. Berta had laced it with a mild herb to help Sarra sleep.

  Lavinia looked over toward the pallet they’d made for Sarra on the floor. The child hadn’t moved since she’d lain down.

  “She seems to be at peace. Berta said the herb would wear off in four or five hours, so Sarra should awaken soon.”

  Duncan came farther into the room. “I hope when she does, that she is back to herself. But even if the voices have relinquished control over her, she’ll still carry the memory of her mother’s suffering and the threat against all of us.”

  “We all hurt for her.”

  In truth, Lavinia hurt for them all. “Have you made any progress this morning?”

  He shook his head. “No, I’ve been working with the guards to prepare for an attack. I discussed strategy with Josup. Given how narrow the switchback trail is, there’s no way for an armed force to approach the abbey except in a column of two horses walking side by side.”

  He walked over to the window to stare out into the garden. “Even with the limited number of guards we have, they will be able to defend the abbey.”

  She cringed over the thought of those men offering
up their lives for her and the other sisters. That anyone would actually consider laying siege to an abbey was horrifying. Images of the sisters huddled inside while men died outside filled her head. Worse yet, what would happen to them all if Ifre’s men actually breached the walls?

  Her eyes were drawn back to Sarra. The little girl had suffered so many losses already.

  “When you go, you must take Sarra with you. She trusts you, and she’ll be safer that way. I’m going to send some of the younger sisters across the pass to another abbey, and Ifre will logically assume that she went with them. The head of the order will see to it that they are safe there, and my brother won’t dare attack because he’d start a war.”

  Duncan’s pale eyes were the color of a sword blade when he looked at her. “And what about you? Your half brother hunts for you. If Sarra is right, the real reason he’s sending his men here is to find you.”

  The sleeping girl whimpered, stirring restlessly. It was impossible to know if she was having a nightmare or if she was reacting to the escalating tension between Lavinia and Duncan.

  “We’ll discuss this later. Joetta promised to come sit with Sarra soon. When she does, I’ll join you in the library.”

  He started to protest, but Sarra cried out in her sleep again. Lavinia ignored Duncan to go sit down on the floor to rub Sarra’s back, crooning to her in a soft voice to lull her back to a sound sleep.

  A few seconds later, she heard the door close. He’d gone. Good. She didn’t want him to see her tears. Did he really think she wanted to watch him ride away with Sarra? She knew full well that once he was gone, she’d never see him again.

  Gods above, that thought hurt. She had no regrets about inviting Duncan to share her bed, nor would she turn him away now. The memories they’d created together would last her a lifetime. They’d have to. Would he remember her?

  Her father’s death had taught her there was nothing to be gained by dwelling on that which could not be changed. It was true then; it was true now. That didn’t make it any easier to accept.

  Her door opened again. Had Duncan returned? She used the edge of her sleeve to wipe a stray tear off her cheek before turning to face him. To her relief, it was Sister Joetta.

  “I’m sorry it took me so long, Lavinia. Lessons ran late.” Joetta kept her words to a whisper as the two of them stared down at Sarra. “How is our little one?”

  “She had a rough time earlier, but she’s been resting peacefully for a while now. I’d expect her to awaken within the hour.”

  Lavinia stepped back, not wanting to disturb the girl’s sleep while they talked. “Are you able to sit with her? I need to continue my studies in the library.”

  Joetta held up a basket. “I brought my sewing to work on. I’ve already told Sister Margaret that I cannot help serve the midday meal.”

  “That’s good. I appreciate everyone’s help.”

  Joetta touched Lavinia’s hand. “You never have to bear a burden by yourself, Lady Lavinia. After all, the goddess teaches us that a burden shared is a burden no more. We know that the attack the other night was no accident. It was aimed at you.”

  She smiled, the deep wrinkles on her face showing her age. “I know of your connection to the ruling family.”

  The prior abbess, now the head of the order, had suggested Lavinia keep that secret. She’d never spoken of it to anyone in the order, not even to her closest friends. “How long have you known?”

  “From the time you first walked through the door.” This time her smile was sad. “I knew your mother. She was a lovely woman, and you look very much like her.”

  “But you’ve never said anything.”

  Joetta set her basket down. “It was obvious that you felt it necessary to protect your identity. I’m guessing that your family connection has come back to haunt you.”

  Before Lavinia could respond, the older woman continued. “Margaret and I both think young Duncan is here because of the increasing darkness spreading out from the capital city. The traders and others who pass through here whisper of it when they think no one is listening.”

  Lavinia hid a smile at her friend’s referring to Duncan as a young man. Joetta would be shocked to find out exactly how old he was. “Sir Duncan says there have been attacks that strike from out of the sky with no warning. There are also reports of families disappearing from their homes yet leaving all their possessions behind and food still on the table.”

  She nodded in Sarra’s direction. “Then there was the attack on her family.”

  As Lavinia gathered up the few things she needed to take with her to the library, Joetta slipped in one more question.

  “And what role does Sir Duncan play in all of this?”

  The older woman gave Lavinia a considering look before continuing. “According to old superstitions, the odd color of his eyes marks his service to the gods. If so, it is my guess that his arrival here in time to save you was no accident.”

  It was a relief to have someone to talk to. Lavinia stared out into the garden. “He has four friends, all of whom are sworn to protect a landholder to the west of us named Lady Merewen. The duke hunts her as well. Duncan is here to search the forbidden books for a way to counter my half brother’s blood magic. He’s waiting for me in the library now.”

  Joetta looked shocked. “You’ve allowed Duncan access to those books, alone and unsupervised? That’s forbidden.”

  The sister’s tone was not accusatory, but she was clearly worried. What could Lavinia say?

  “I trust him, and not simply because he saved my life. Sir Duncan has provided me with good advice on how to make the abbey safe from attack. Also, Sarra likes and trusts him. You know how few people she allows to get close, especially men. I think that speaks well of his character.”

  She shivered as she glanced at the spot where the scrying water had burned the plants. The incident had left her reluctant to contact the gods again. “I fear there may be an armed force heading in our direction. If so, time is running short to find the answers we need.”

  “But those forbidden books are supposed to be hidden from outsiders and with good reason.”

  She didn’t need to be second-guessed. “True, Joetta, and I have been working with him as time allows. Duncan speaks the old tongues as if he grew up speaking them.”

  Which he had, although she kept that part to herself. “With the two of us searching through the old texts together, we will accomplish more than if I struggle through on my own.”

  Joetta nodded slowly. “I trust your judgment and accept the necessity of breaking the rules in this instance. What would you have us to do to prepare in case we come under attack?”

  Lavinia didn’t want to have to think about such a possibility, but avoidance would be foolish and shortsighted. “Tell Sister Margaret we’ll need food and water should we have to take refuge in the warded workroom. Ask Sister Berta to ensure we have enough of her ointments and herbal remedies to treat a number of wounded. Bandages, too. Perhaps some old sheets can be bleached clean and cut up for that.”

  The urgency she felt to join Duncan in the library was growing stronger, so she started for the door. At the last second, she stopped and looked back.

  “There’s one more thing you can do, Joetta: pray. Pray for all of us.”

  Chapter 20

  Duncan skimmed passage after passage, rapidly turning the pages with minimal regard for their delicate condition. His mind was divided between the words in front of him and the awareness of each minute that passed. Time stopped for no one, least of all for the Damned. Minute by minute, hour by hour, the days passed with no way to slow their pace. The longer it took to find the spell to counter Duke Keirthan’s blood magic, the less time they’d have to invoke it.

  Well-planned strategies couldn’t be simply thrown together. The moment two armies clashed was preceded by hours, days, or even weeks of planning. Soldiers didn’t reach the battlefield by accident or in solitude.

  He ran his finger
down the next paragraph. When he reached the bottom, he started to turn the page but hesitated. Had he missed something? Backing up to the top, he began again, reading it aloud and translating from his native tongue as he went.

  By the time he’d finished half the page, he knew he’d finally stumbled across something useful. Before he could continue reading, Lavinia walked into the library. He marked his place and walked around the table to meet her.

  “How is Sarra?”

  Lavinia set her mage light down on a nearby shelf. “Still sleeping. Sister Joetta is with her.”

  Some of the weight of worry eased in his chest. He brushed a lock of Lavinia’s hair back from her face. “That’s good to hear. How about you?”

  She shrugged and rubbed her arms. “I’ll be fine. Seeing Sarra like that is always distressing, but this episode was the worst I’ve seen.”

  Most likely because the dire predictions in Sarra’s pronouncement were aimed squarely at the three of them. It probably didn’t help that Lavinia had gotten very little sleep during the night thanks to him. He hoped she didn’t have regrets—far better to focus on what he’d been reading when she’d come in.

  He let a little of his excitement show. “I’ve found something. I was reading it over a second time when you came in.”

  A few of the shadows in her eyes were replaced with hope. “Really?”

  He returned to the table and spun the book around so that they could both see the page. He read it to her in translation. When he was finished, he turned to the next page, only to discover the next pages were on a different subject altogether. On closer inspection, he realized that several pages had been torn out, taking the rest of the passage with them.

  Frustrated, he stepped back, his hands clenched at his sides in anger. “Why is nothing ever easy? If I didn’t know for a fact that the Lady of the River wants the Damned to succeed, I would swear the gods were conspiring against us.”