Obviously, he’d secretly retained copies for himself and his heirs. Ifre had been impressed by the sneakiness of it, although he suspected his father had not done so out of greed for power. More likely, he’d done it in case someone else had held back a few of the grimoires for some fell purpose.
Ifre lifted his knife high in the air and began to chant, ignoring the mewling pleas from his unwilling donor. When the last echo of the words faded away, he slashed downward, opening her thigh to the bone. The knife was greedy today, soaking up her blood as fast as it poured out of her veins.
When the flow slowed to a mere trickle, he sealed the wound, not that he much cared if she survived the loss of blood. Her magic was all but gone now anyway.
He next cut his own palm, wincing at the pain. Ashamed of his own show of weakness, he added a second cut, this one deeper, allowing the knife to drink its fill. After cauterizing his palm, which added another layer of pain, he marched over to the map and stabbed the blade into the symbol for his home and shouted the last few words of the spell at the top of his lungs.
With a crack of thunder, a tiny flame started at the tip of the knife and traced a spiderweb of black lines across the surface of the map. Wisps of smoke followed the trail, smelling of burned parchment and blood.
Ifre waved his hand back and forth to clear away the last of the smoke to study what truths the spell had revealed. He’d sent out twenty of the coins. A quick count of the trails showed that eighteen were still on the move, seeking their target. Several of those trails led beyond the boundaries of Agathia and therefore were unlikely to produce any results. It was always possible Lavinia had taken refuge in a neighboring land, but his gut instinct said she’d stick with the familiar.
The familiar. Something niggled at the back of his mind, the same feeling he’d had yesterday when his headache had prevented him from pursuing the thought. Forcing the memory wouldn’t work. He ignored it and studied the remaining two trails.
They’d started off here in the capital city just as the others had. From there, they’d traveled together; their path meandered all over the area. Why? Who’d been carrying them? He traced the line singed into the parchment, slowly making sense of what he was seeing.
It was a trader’s route, which accounted for the twists and turns. Caravans stopped anywhere there were enough people who might need their wares. The trail continued until it disappeared in a small valley between two mountain ranges. At that point, there was nothing left of them except a black smudge on the paper.
The two coins had been destroyed right there on the eastern border of Agathia. Nothing showed on the map, so there was no settlement of any size. That didn’t mean there weren’t permanent residents in the area.
He left the map hanging where it was and stepped off the dais long enough to retrieve an atlas from his private collection. Needing a place to spread it out, he summoned his servants.
When the first two arrived, Ifre pointed toward the altar. “Take her. If she lives, cleanse her wound and then feed her. If not, you know what to do.”
Ifre waited impatiently for them to follow his orders. They knew not to dawdle. Experience had taught them that his need for fresh blood required a steady flow of prisoners. It was only one short misstep from servant to sacrifice.
When they were gone, he opened the book to a detailed map of the Sojourn Valley. Ah, yes, there was a reason for a caravan to stop in such a remote area. He’d forgotten about the abbey at the entrance of the valley. All things considered, Ifre had little doubt someone in that distant abbey had recognized the blood coins for what they were and destroyed them.
Since the coins were keyed to react only to someone of his bloodline, that had to mean that the traders had come into contact with Lavinia. After all, their family had dwindled down to just the two of them.
And now he knew what memory had been floating at the edge of his thoughts. In the brief glimpse he’d had of Lavinia through her scrying, she’d been wearing robes. Yes, the style was right for one of the sisters or, more likely, an abbess to wear. Somehow he doubted his little half sibling would settle for being an ordinary sister.
Since his coins had been destroyed, he had to think Lavinia had survived the incident. He smiled. She wouldn’t live long beyond their next encounter. He’d send out enough troops to tear that abbey apart stone by stone if that was what it took to drag her back to his side.
He’d prepare another of his talismans especially for her. Once the soldiers had her subdued, all they had to do was slip the necklace around her neck to render her docile. From that point, she would follow them back to the capital city without question. The bonus was that as soon as she wore his talisman, he would be able to draw from the deep well of her magic to supplement his own.
It should take a troop of the royal guard three days of hard riding to reach the abbey. He rubbed some warmth into his hands, ignoring the still-tender scar on his palm.
“Yes, dear Lavinia, soon you and I will be reunited. Then nothing and no one will stop me.”
At that, he went in search of the latest captain of his personal guard to give the man his marching orders. The sooner Lavinia was captured, the sooner he could turn his attention to shoring up his control of the nobles and the riches in their holdings across all of Agathia.
* * *
Gideon should’ve known Kane would follow him up to the ramparts. He’d come up here to clear his head and think things through. So much for a few minutes’ solitude. With his eyes on the rolling grasslands beyond the palisade, he asked, “What now?”
“I need to leave soon, Gideon, if I’m going to be of any help.” Kane shifted from foot to foot in an uncharacteristic show of nerves. “It will take time to insinuate myself into the duke’s household guard.”
“So you keep telling me.”
Kane was right. That didn’t mean Gideon wanted to hear it. His friend’s plan to infiltrate Duke Keirthan’s personal guard made sense. Having a spy on the inside would greatly increase their chances of overcoming the duke’s efforts to subjugate his people.
Having Averel follow Kane into the capital city, passing himself off as a troubadour, was the only thing that made the idea palatable. Gideon trusted Kane with his life, but the mage-marked warrior would be riding into the source of the blood magic that was casting its deadly shadow over the countryside.
If all of the Damned were together, there was no way the taint of the magic could overcome Kane’s inborn sense of duty and honor. Alone, though, with the pulsing heart of Keirthan’s twisted magic so close at hand, there was no telling how the warrior would be affected.
Centuries ago, Kane had turned his back on the teachings of his grandfather, a dark mage of incredible power. Yet the mark on Kane’s cheek proved the connection was still there, written not just on his skin but in his blood and bones.
“Well? Am I going or not?” Kane practically spit the words out between clenched teeth.
They both knew Gideon had no choice. “Tell Averel to get ready. The two of you will ride out in the morning.”
“But—”
Gideon cut off the other man’s protest. “I know you prefer to travel at night, but we still haven’t heard from Duncan. If he’s going to send word, it will be after dark when Kiva arrives.”
The other warrior stared out at the horizon. “He’s fine, Gideon. Duncan knows how to take care of himself.”
“We all do.” Gideon slammed his fist against the rough-hewn wooden wall. “But we almost lost Murdoch, didn’t we? It took days for him to heal. That’s never happened before, not since the goddess claimed us as her own. Duncan’s been gone for days with no word, and now you and Averel are leaving. I don’t like it. We’ve always fought our battles together. Now we’re scattered like leaves on the wind.”
He clapped his friend on the shoulder. “I know you’ll do fine, and the knowledge you will gain will make it easier to defeat the enemy. Yet I hate the whole idea. Besides, who will keep my sword skills sharp if you’re
not around?”
He softened the last bit with a smile.
“That would be me.”
They both turned to face Murdoch, his deep voice finally sounding at full strength.
The big man rolled his shoulders and stretched. “We both know Kane always goes too easy on you, Gideon. He thinks embarrassing you in practice makes us all look bad. Personally, I relish those moments.”
Gideon made sure his answering smile showed a lot of teeth and a hint of meanness. “We’ll see about that bright and early in the morning. Maybe a small wager would be in order.”
Murdoch gave him a dubious look. “What do you have in mind?”
Gideon didn’t blame him for being suspicious. It wasn’t as if the Damned ever had much use for money. “Jarod needs extra help cleaning the stables. Whoever loses the bout has to spend the rest of the day shoveling out stalls.”
“Fair enough.” Murdoch glanced back over his shoulder. “In fact, tell you what. We’ll include Sigil, here, in the deal. We’ll all three fight. The two losers haul cartloads of manure.”
Gideon looked past his friend toward the duke’s man, who had become Murdoch’s silent shadow since they’d both left their sickbeds. “Are you all right with helping the stable master?”
Sigil shrugged. “I’d rather feel useful.”
Then with a sly smile, he added, “But then who says I’ll be the loser? I find the idea of sitting in the shade watching the two of you sweat most appealing.”
It was the first time he’d acted more like an ally of the Damned than like their prisoner. Obviously Sigil was feeling more comfortable around them, not necessarily a good thing. Could he be biding his time, waiting for them to get careless around him, so that he could escape?
Regardless, Gideon didn’t relish the thought of having to execute a man he’d come to like.
“Big words, Sigil. I’ll look forward to bringing the two of you a cool drink of water after you’ve been at it for a few hours.”
The prisoner merely nodded, but Gideon suspected the man was actually pleased to be included in their antics. At least someone around there was happy. There was also a limit to how much Gideon was willing to trust him.
“Sigil, if you’ll excuse us, I need to talk to these two.”
Murdoch interceded. “Why don’t you wait for me over by the gate to the pasture? I told Jarod the two of us would give him a hand with the horses. I’ll be along shortly.”
Sigil nodded a second time. “If you’ll excuse me, Captain. Kane.”
Gideon waited until he was well out of hearing range before speaking again. “Kane, whether we hear from Duncan or not, you and Averel leave at dawn. It should be safe for the two of you to ride together for a while, but closer to the city, you’ll need to separate. No one should see the two of you together.”
Kane gave him a long, hard look. “We’ll be fine, Gideon. I’ll be fine.”
He should’ve known Kane would sense Gideon’s real worry. “I know that, but I’d feel better if one of the birds was going to be with you. Averel’s dogs run fast, but it will still take them longer to bring back messages.”
“Scim can find us if need be. He’s done it before.”
True, but the gyrfalcon had already been attacked by the duke’s magic. Gideon hated to put him at risk again. He loved his feathered companion, but he loved Lady Merewen even more. Besides, it was her safety that the Damned were sent to ensure. Any and all of them were expendable when it came to carrying out their mission.
Suddenly, he needed to see Merewen, to hold her while he could. “Let me know if you need any help getting ready, Kane. Murdoch, you’d better catch up with Sigil. The men seem to have accepted him since he’s started helping with the training, but let’s not tempt fate.”
Kane waited until Murdoch was gone to speak again. “If you don’t hear from Duncan soon, send Scim after us. The route to the capital closely parallels the one Duncan was following to the abbey for the first two days at least. It would be easy enough for us to change directions to check on him.”
“True, but it would also delay your arrival in the city. As you said, it will take time for you to find a way to join the duke’s guard.”
Then Kane asked, “When are the other landholders coming to meet with you?”
“In two days’ time. It would be nice to find some allies in this fight, but I don’t hold out much hope. Most will be reluctant to lend me their best fighters because that will weaken the defense of their homes. If I can’t convince them that the only way they’ll rid Agathia of the duke’s predations is to band together, then I fear for the success of our mission.”
And that would cost not only the Damned but Merewen herself dearly.
“You’ll convince them.”
Gideon wished he had Kane’s confidence. The one positive was that after he spoke to the leaders, he would know one way or the other if the Damned would be facing Keirthan with an army at their back or on their own. And from there they could plan their attack.
Kane had started to walk away but turned back one last time. “Gideon, trust in the Lady and in us as we all trust you. We’ve never failed before, and we won’t this time. Have faith. Doubt only weakens us all.”
Once again Kane was right. In battle, doubt and fear could kill as many warriors as the enemy did. He watched Kane round up Averel to start packing while Murdoch caught up with Sigil to help with the horses. It was definitely time to find Merewen and steal a few minutes from planning and plotting to be with the woman who held his heart in her hands.
Chapter 17
Lavinia quietly stepped into the library. Duncan was right where she expected him to be, hard at work, his fingers stained with ink as he took notes. When Duncan finally reached the end of a page, she spoke. “I thought I’d find you in here.”
Duncan looked up at her, obviously surprised to see her standing there. His pale eyes blinked rapidly against the brightness of the mage lantern she carried with her. “I didn’t get started as early as I’d meant to. It took a while to get the new guards settled in.”
“What are your first impressions? Are they what you expected?”
She knew he wouldn’t be sequestered here in the library if he was at all concerned about the men Musar had sent to her. Yet it provided an excuse to talk with Duncan.
“They are fine.” Then he smiled. “Actually, better than fine. I couldn’t have done a better job picking them myself. Over the years, I’ve known their kind before and recognize the type. They take their duties seriously but don’t have anything to prove.”
The burden of worry she’d been carrying lightened at the news. “I am most glad to hear that.”
Duncan continued. “After I leave, Josup will make a fine captain for your guard. The other men listen when he speaks and respect his opinion.”
She focused on what Duncan was telling her, trying her best to ignore the stab of pain that came from knowing he would soon disappear from her life.
“I’ll be sure to thank Musar. Having him handpick the men was a definite gift from the gods.”
She wandered closer to the table. “Have you found a new thread of information to follow?”
“I think so. I’ve found a few references to a blast of power that can kill at a distance.” Duncan frowned and shuffled through his notes. “I’m sure I wrote down which book to read next. It’s here somewhere. Once I track down that spell, I am hoping it will also indicate how to counter it.”
When he reached for another book, she stopped him by capturing his hand in hers. “You’ve done enough for one night, Duncan. You’ve had a long, busy day. So have I, and I cannot seek my own bed knowing you are still in here working.”
All right, that was a bit of a stretch of the truth, but he wouldn’t stop unless she made him. That much was clear.
She gave his hand a tug. “Tomorrow will be here soon enough, and you’ll think better after some sleep and a good breakfast.”
He stared down at thei
r joined hands and then slowly raised his gaze to hers. There was a flash of heat in those pale eyes that hadn’t been there a second before. She really should let go and step back. It would be smarter than standing there wishing the table would simply disappear, leaving nothing standing between them.
Telling herself that he needed to straighten his notes and return the books to their shelf, she released his hand. As soon as she did, she missed that small connection.
Duncan didn’t say anything as he stowed the books and papers where they’d be protected, saving back one page covered with his neat script. He folded it until it fit in a small pouch he then tucked into his belt. How odd. When at last he was finished, she started to restore the wards, but he stopped her.
“Let me.”
Surprised by his request, she lowered her hands and let him take over, even though he was clearly uncomfortable using magic, even such a simple spell. This time the wards popped back into place smoothly. Despite his obvious misgivings, he had a knack for it. Deciding that particular opinion wouldn’t please him, she kept it to herself.
“I wanted to make sure that I have that spell memorized.”
Duncan sounded a bit gruff, maybe even a bit embarrassed.
She blew out the candles and picked up the mage lantern to light the way for them. He picked up his shield as they walked out. He eyed the light with a frown.
“How does that work?”
“It’s another small spell. I like it because it doesn’t carry the same danger as open flames do around books and papers. Touch it if you’d like.”
When she held it higher to give Duncan a closer look, he cautiously tested the glass with his fingertips.
“Warm but not hot.” He tipped his head to the side to better study the lantern. “If they’re safer, why don’t you use them throughout the abbey?”
She shrugged. “Not many can command the spell, and not everyone is comfortable around magic. I use it only when I’m alone or in my private quarters.”
As they started walking again, she added, “The spell is similar in nature to the one you’ve mastered for the wards. I can teach it to you if you would find it useful.”
Her Knight's Quest: A Warriors of the Mist Novel Page 15
