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

by Alexis Morgan

  “What’s wrong?”

  When he pointed at the barely noticeable ragged edges of the torn pages, she sighed. “I’m sorry. Many of these books were rescued at the last moment, and some were already partially burned. We’ve mended what we could.”

  Lavinia picked up the book and turned back to the page he’d been studying. She read it silently even though her lips moved, forming each word as she sounded it out. Fine. Maybe she could make more sense of it than he had.

  When she finished, she set the book down and studied the shelves. “I’m sure I’ve encountered that same reference before. The question is where.”

  She walked up and down the shelves, stopping occasionally to trail her finger over the titles on the spines of the books. Under other circumstances, he would’ve been content to watch her make her way down the row of books. She so clearly shared his love of knowledge for its own sake.

  The way she touched the worn leather bindings was sensuous in nature, her pleasure obvious. It reminded him of how she’d used those same hands on him during the night. She breathed deeply, savoring the musty scent of old leather and parchment. Had the gods ever created another such woman? Not that he’d seen in his long life.

  Frowning now, Lavinia picked up one volume but returned it after a brief glance at the pages inside. She tried a second and then a third. Finally, on the fourth try, she did a skipping step as if celebrating before returning to the table.

  Opening the two books side by side, she pushed the new one toward Duncan. “Read that passage aloud while I follow along. If I’m right, yours contains the missing pages.”

  For a second time, Duncan read the words as written and then repeated them in translation. While the book Lavinia had was missing the rest of the article, his continued on for several pages. What a relief that the new book had the passage intact. He stopped to reread a few paragraphs.

  “I find this section confusing. It talks about balance in the world, one thing being the opposite but equal of the other.”

  He stopped to point at the words on the page. “Then it goes on to say the blood of the body holds power over the one who spills it with ill purpose. Something about the master becoming the slave.”

  Then Duncan moved forward a few paragraphs. “Here it mentions another kind of power, one that surrounds the body and fills the world. To wield the power in blood, it must be spilled. It weakens the donor and empowers the mage, yet the spirits of both are devoured.”

  He looked toward Lavinia. “That sounds like what Duke Keirthan is doing. However, this other magic is definitely different. The source of its power is taken in and then shared without damaging the spirit or soul as long as the one who wields the magic remains strong and pure of purpose. If not, it will burn out of control and destroy everyone.”

  So how was it different if it could still consume the mage? He went back to the text again. “It loosely translates as ‘both the same and different.’ I’m also not familiar with the word that describes the second magic, though. It’s similar to the word for dirt, but that’s not quite right. When confronted with the blood magic, this dirt magic will prevail if the mages are of equal strength. At least, I think that’s what it means.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Maybe it will come to me later when I’ve had more time to think about it. The rest of the book talks about what the dirt mage needs to do to fight against the blood magic.”

  He expected Lavinia to comment, even if she disagreed with his translation. When he finally looked up, she was staring down at the page, her dark eyes stark with pain just as Sarra’s had been earlier.

  A chill washed through him. “Lavinia? What’s wrong?”

  She pointed at the word he didn’t know. “It doesn’t mean dirt. It means earth.”

  He read the sentence again, inserting the new word in the place of dirt. It read the same to him. “There’s a difference?”

  “Yes. Earth has two meanings, only one of which is the dirt beneath our feet. It also refers to the world itself and everything in it. Ifre has become a blood mage, an abomination in the eyes of the gods. An earth mage draws power from the natural life energy of the world that surrounds us all.”

  That made more sense than his original translation. “So what kind of spells would an earth mage perform?”

  “Mostly little things. Mage lights, for example.” She finally looked him in the eye. “Or scrying. Sometimes, if she’s very lucky and good at what she does, she can destroy a blood mage’s coins.”

  Everything shifted. For the longest time, all he could do was stare at the woman in front of him, the same woman he’d spent the night worshipping with his hands, his mouth, his entire body. The very one who had managed to wedge herself inside his heart was an earth mage. And he would guess she possessed considerable abilities, the kind of mage he needed to send into battle against her own brother. Her half brother, really, but that didn’t change anything.

  Lavinia looked poised to run. He didn’t blame her, but then where could she go that she wouldn’t be hunted down? Now that the pieces had all come together, he understood why Ifre Keirthan was so determined to find her. She was very likely the one person alive who could counter all of the blood power the man had accrued. He either needed to take her captive or kill her.

  Nothing else would do.

  He looked around the library, allowing himself to soak in the sight because it would be the last time he saw it. Once again it was time to put away the scholar and let the warrior take over.

  “Pack your things, including this book, Lavinia. Kiva will return soon with word from Gideon. Once we know what he has to say, we’ll leave. Riding hard, we’ll reach Lady Merewen’s keep within a few days.”

  But Lavinia was already shaking her head. “No, I cannot simply abandon the abbey. My duty lies here. I don’t want you to leave, but I understand that you have to go. I’ll order the younger sisters to pack quickly so two of the guards can escort them to our order’s headquarters. The rest of us can take refuge in the warded workroom if necessary.”

  Duncan’s temper flared hot. “That’s your answer? To hide here behind these thick walls while the people of Agathia die at the hands of your brother?”

  Lavinia flinched as if he’d hit her with his fists rather than words. He hated hurting her, but how could he return to Gideon leaving their most potent weapon behind? He stepped back to let his temper cool. If anger wouldn’t work, maybe logic would.

  “You want Sarra to be safe. You want to protect the other sisters as well. The best way to do that is to put an end to your brother’s predations on all of his people. These walls can’t protect you. Ifre already got through them once using the coins. This time he’s sending men with swords. Who will protect Sarra if he succeeds?”

  “I’ve already said that she should go with you.”

  Her words were spoken in a monotone, as if she had no emotional connection to either him or the girl. He recognized that for the lie it was. She cared deeply, especially about Sarra, probably because the two of them had so much in common. Both had lost their parents at an early age and possessed a powerful, magical gift, one not comfortable to live with.

  She cared just as deeply about him. What she hadn’t said with words, she’d conveyed with the gift of her body. A woman in her position wouldn’t have lightly invited a man into her bed. Their bodies had joined together in a song of joy that had burned bright and hot. Duncan would remind her of that fact. Right now. No more arguments, no more words.

  He set the book down with far more care than he’d picked it up. Silently, he gathered up his papers and set them and the ink bottle aside.

  “Duncan?”

  She sounded nervous. Good.

  He waited until everything was all neat and tidy before turning to face her. One look at his face had her backing away, which only served to inflame his already precarious mood.

  “You’re not going anywhere, Lavinia. Not until we’ve finished this discuss
ion.”

  He emphasized that last word, letting his eyes travel from her head to her toes, lingering along the way.

  She froze, but then straightened her shoulders and put her hands on her hips. “Do not think that one night gives you the right to make demands on me, Duncan.”

  He prowled closer. She stood her ground, but she wasn’t as calm as she wanted him to believe. Her pupils were dilated, and the pulse point at her throat belied her calm. He crowded her even more, stopping only when there was not even an arm’s distance between them.

  Last night had been the first time in centuries that he’d bedded a woman, and the experience only left him craving more of the same. Not more of just any woman; more of Lavinia. And he meant to have her. But as determined as he was, he wouldn’t take that final step forward until she gave him permission. But unless she refused him, he was going take her right there in the library. On the table, against the wall, on the floor. He didn’t care where as long as he claimed her as his own.

  “I want you, Lavinia. Right now. Right here,” he added, just to make himself clear.

  She swallowed hard, her eyes dropping down just far enough to verify the truth of that statement. The length of his tunic hid the most visible evidence, but she sensed the truth of his statement. A woman always knew when a man craved her touch the way that Duncan wanted hers.

  “You’re being scandalous. I do not like it.”

  He smiled, infusing it with a little heat and a lot of hunger. “Scandalous? Not yet, but I plan to be.”

  “What if someone were to walk in?”

  She hadn’t said no. Satisfaction only heightened his craving for her. “Shove a table against the door or throw up one of your wards. Use that earth magic for something even if you won’t use it to save your homeland.”

  That probably wasn’t the wisest thing he could’ve said, but he wouldn’t apologize.

  “How dare you!”

  She turned her back to him. Had he succeeded in driving her away? No, thank the Lady, she was chanting. He recognized the words as a variation on the spell she’d taught him. When she finished, the air crackled and snapped, leaving the two of them encased within a wall of pulsing light.

  “Can anyone else see that?”

  “No, and you shouldn’t be able to, either. If someone starts in this direction, he’ll change his mind and walk away.”

  He held his hand close to the barrier, enjoying the tickle of its power on his skin. “So why does this ward look different than the other one you showed me?”

  “Because this one also ensures no one can hear us. If we’re going to argue about your dragging me back to your captain, I don’t want to alarm the other sisters.”

  Argue? Is that what she thought he had in mind? Anger slipped through his veins, ripping away the tenuous control he had on his need to have her.

  This time he left no room between them. Glaring down at her, he made his position clear. “I will not argue with you, Lavinia. You’ve already made up your mind to stay. Now that I have my answers, I will leave whether you ride with me or not. I’ll take Sarra with me since you asked it of me, but no place will be safe for her as long as Ifre Keirthan lives. But if these are to be our last hours together, I don’t plan to spend them arguing. I want you to think of this moment when I ride out of your life.”

  As he spoke, he touched the racing pulse at the base of Lavinia’s throat. Her emotions were running high, a match for his. He ran his finger down and down, between her breasts, across the soft curve of her belly, stopping short of where he really wanted to be.

  Then he pushed her against the nearest wall and kissed her as if there would be no tomorrow. It wasn’t much of an exaggeration. The moment he rode down the switchback trail, their time together would be at an end. Not just for now, but forever.

  And that truth cut a jagged hole in his heart that would never heal.

  * * *

  Lavinia should fight. She should push him away, tear down the wards, and run, leaving Duncan and the library behind. But somehow instead of shoving Duncan away, she dragged him even closer. Evidently that was the sign he was waiting for.

  He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her up, holding her against the wall, pressing his battle-hardened warrior’s body against hers. He continued to kiss her, reminding her how it had been to be the focus of his passion during the night. She could feel his hand between them as he jerked at the lacings of his trews.

  Then he yanked the heavy fabric of her skirt up to her waist. With her legs free of its encumbrance, she wrapped them around his hips, bringing her core right against the rigid length of his manhood. Duncan’s hand slipped between her legs where the thin fabric of her undergarments offered little resistance to his strength. Once he’d dispensed with that last barrier, he grasped her by the back of her thighs and drove himself in deep and hard.

  She screamed his name at the abrupt invasion. Last night he’d been all consideration and patience. Not this time. As soon as he’d buried the thick length of his shaft inside her, he withdrew and did it again—and yet again, each time panting her name.

  “Take more of me, Lavinia. Take it all.”

  She nodded and brought her legs up higher, this time around his waist. The move changed the angle of penetration, allowing him to drive in just that much deeper, that much harder.

  “Duncan, don’t stop; please don’t stop.”

  As his hips were thrusting hard, he buried his face in her shoulder, working the tender skin there with his lips and teeth. The sensation shaded toward pain, almost more than she could bear. She loved it. Tension coiled deep within her, building, tightening, throbbing hot as he continued to flex his hips. The world quickly narrowed down to the cold hard wall at her back and the burning heat of the man who held her prisoner in his arms.

  This wasn’t a seduction, but a claiming. They both knew that Duncan might leave her behind, but he’d also leave his mark on her skin and in her soul. Duncan drove them both on and on until her body broke free of the world’s tethers and everything around her shattered.

  Including her heart.

  Chapter 21

  “Tell me something, Captain Gideon. Why should I take your word for anything when I know nothing about you?”

  Gideon stared across the table at the man who laid claim to the lands a day’s ride east of Lady Merewen’s estate. He was well aware that he made the man nervous. It was true for all the men who’d answered Merewen’s summons.

  Eventually, if they spent enough time with him, they might learn to ignore the strangeness of Gideon’s eyes. They’d get used to Scim staring at them from the perch behind Gideon’s shoulder and the way Shadow liked to prowl under the table, looking for food scraps and mice. Maybe then he’d get past the urge to drag them out to the bailey and use his sword to teach them exactly who was in charge and why.

  Gideon remained impassive, letting none of his temper show. Leaving these men bruised and battered might improve his mood, but it wouldn’t move him any closer to his goal of forging an army, one capable of taking on the duke himself.

  “I understand your reluctance, Sir Gilford. If I were in your place, I would feel the same way.”

  Gideon paused to take a drink of wine and then leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. He looked at each man in turn, trapping their gaze with his.

  “If we had an unlimited amount of time, we’d go hunting and swap tall tales over flagons of ale to get to know each other better. However, time is the one thing I do not have to waste, so I’ll settle for being blunt.”

  Gilford mirrored Gideon’s action, leaning forward and glaring at him from across the expanse of the table. “By all means be blunt, Captain Gideon. You’ve already dragged all of us here for no obvious reason. Why fall back on good manners now?”

  That did it.

  “By a show of hands, how many of you have led an army into battle? I’m not talking about a skirmish with bandits. I’m talking war.”

  He stared
at Gilford, waiting for his response, although Gideon already knew the answer. Up and down the table, not a single hand moved. He had no doubt that most of the men were trained with weapons and had men-at-arms who were as well. He told them that much.

  “None of you have ever had to defend anything larger than a single caravan or perhaps your own home, so you have a decision to make and very little time to make it. I’m sure your first choice would be to return to your homes, bar the gates, and hope that Duke Keirthan’s move against the people of Agathia somehow passes you by.”

  He forced himself to lean back in his chair, wanting them to listen to his words more than he wanted to make them feel threatened. “If I were one of you, I might make that same choice myself. I’m telling you right now that it would be the wrong one.”

  “And what makes it wrong? None of our keeps has been attacked. Lady Merewen’s problems with Lord Fagan were a family dispute, nothing more.”

  Gideon didn’t bother trying to figure out who posed the question. It didn’t matter. Someone had been bound to ask it.

  “True, we did take back Lady Merewen’s home from her late uncle and his men, but it was far more than a family dispute. Lord Fagan had promised Lady Merewen to the duke to use for his own foul purpose. His lady wife, as well.”

  He paused to let that sink in. “Several of you have reported that people have gone missing from their homes, never to be heard from again. What do you think is happening to them?”

  The same voice spoke again. “We don’t know that Keirthan took them, and we have only your word that Lady Merewen’s cause against her uncle was just.”

  This time Gideon did look. “Are you questioning my honor, Sir Gable? Because if you are, we can take that discussion outside right now and let our swords decide whose honor is beyond question.”

  The silence was telling.

  Finally, Sir Gable mumbled, “No insult was intended.”

  Gideon didn’t bother saying none was taken and moved on.

  “Keirthan is using blood magic to strengthen his hold on Agathia by sacrificing the very people he should be protecting. We think he wanted Lady Merewen because she inherited her father’s gift with the horses. Keirthan would use her magic to fuel his own. His strength is growing daily. If he reaches his full power, no one will be able to stand against him.”