Stepping gingerly around the pale, translucent body, a scream tore from his mouth when a taloned hand seized his ankle in a viselike grip.
“You are going nowhere, Cyman.”
Through the torture of her contractions, Kiernan scanned the great hall searching for a weapon—anything—she could use against Roman. Miss Belle was unconscious and Kirby Nash was sitting against his furniture barricade with a blank stare.
It was up to her alone to somehow survive this madman. It was still a mystery to her what Roman’s motives were. Did this also have something to do with Beck’s disappearance?
Of course, it did! How could she have been so blind? The only way Beck Atlan could have been kidnapped under Roman Traynor’s watch, was if Roman himself had allowed it to happen.
Beck’s protector was working with Avalon Ravener.
That bastard!
“Roman!” she screamed at him. “Tell me why, traitor! Why would you align yourself with Avalon Ravener against Beck? Your friend!”
Roman stopped and turned back to her. “Avalon Ravener? I know nothing of that witch. Your husband was kidnapped because of an influential group of dissenters who wanted to see change in this country. Both him and Maximus were targeted so that Davad Etin could be crowned King of Iserlohn. It is that simple.”
So, he was in league with Davad Etin and not Avalon Ravener? It did not make any sense.
A sharp contraction coursed through her again and she thought she was going to die right there before Roman Traynor had an opportunity to lay a single finger on her. She panted through the pain while the Saber looked down at her with a smirk.
“Looks like it hurts,” he observed mockingly.
“And, me, Roman?” she asked through clenched teeth. “Am I to be killed for the same reason? For political gain?”
His laugh was scathing. “Oh, the faction wanted you dead, but their reasons are not mine. I want you dead, Your Grace, because six years ago, you helped my mother kill my father.”
Confused, Kiernan was about to question him further when he dropped down to his knees by her side and grabbed her hair. “Harden Sullivan, Your Grace! Do you recognize that name? It was my father’s name! His friends called him Sully! Are things becoming clearer now, Your Grace?”
Kiernan responded softly, her tone filled with regret. “I was trying to help your mother, Roman. Your father had…”
With his free hand, he slapped her across the face. “Shut up! No more lies!”
Letting go of her hair, he stood and walked back toward the double doors. “Nash! Look at me!”
He needed to mindshift Kirby again. His magic was not as strong as hers, so he had to keep reinforcing Kirby’s shifted state.
She screamed out in pain once again, but this time it felt different. She realized with horror that the baby was coming! Now! There was no more time. Her body felt like it was ripping in two when she felt the baby’s head pushing out of her body.
Her magic, dormant for months, flared to life within her and she knew then that the preservation instinct of her power was progressing the delivery in an act of survival.
She sat up and tried to stop the birth, but it was no use. Bearing down on her lower belly, she gave a tentative push and a low primal moan ripped from her throat as a dark-haired head popped free. One more frantic push with all of her waning strength, and the baby slid the rest of the way clear of her body onto the linen tablecloth.
She looked down with a sob.
Beck was right.
It was a boy.
A beautiful, defenseless babe, and she had brought him into this world under the most devastating of conditions. Tears poured down her cheeks. He was so tiny and covered in blood. She grabbed one side of the tablecloth and swaddled him as best she could and cradled him to her breast. How many minutes did she have? How many seconds to love this precious little baby in her arms?
She heard another scuffle behind her and realized that Miss Belle had gained consciousness and was attacking Roman again.
Suddenly, another contraction shot through her abdomen.
What was happening? The pain should have subsided now that the baby was born!
To her complete astonishment, she felt another being try to thrust its way out of her body. With a fearful groan, she laid her wrapped son next to her side and looked down at the crown of light hair on the second baby. She pushed with all of her might, but this one was not so easy. It took several silent but painful grunts of effort before the head emerged. She gripped the little shoulders when they appeared and with a gentle pull, guided the child free.
Another son.
She could barely see him through her blurred vision, but she knew he was as beautiful as his brother. She used the other end of the linen now drenched in red to wrap this baby and then picked up the first one once again. Lying back down on her side, she brought her knees up and sobbed, cradling her two cherished bundles close to her heart.
Kiernan did not know how long she laid there. Seconds probably, but if felt longer. She flinched when she heard Roman’s angry footsteps striding back down the marble aisle.
Thump, thump.
He was coming for her.
Thump, thump.
Coming for her babies.
Mercifully, exhaustion filled her mind and body with an almost peaceful acceptance of what was to come. She was simply not capable of anything more. She had lost quite a bit of blood and could not even remember the last time she had anything to eat. But, how silly to be thinking of that now, she chided herself, when she should be treasuring these last seconds with her sons.
Thump, thump.
She smiled as she looked down at their little faces one last time.
Oh, Beck, you should see them! You would love them as much as I already do!
Kiernan’s shoulders jerked violently and she gasped in fright when a splintering explosion resounded through Grace Hall. Instinctively, she covered the babies with her body as wooden fragments from the furniture barricade rained down on top of them. She heard Kirby Nash cry out and looked up as his body went sailing through the air, smashed into one of the marble pillars that lined the aisle and then slid to the floor in a broken heap.
Fighting through her frailty and the lethal maelstrom, Kiernan rolled off the tablecloth, grabbed an edge of the linen and dragged her sons underneath one of the heavy dinner tables.
She tucked her body underneath and waited for the sounds of the onslaught to fade. When they showed no signs of abating, she mustered her strength and heaved her body to her knees to peek up over the table.
It was Kenley!
Her daughter was standing in the entrance to Grace Hall with her arm lifted. She was still creating a turbulent tornado of air while she searched the room for danger. Baya, at her side, bellowed a howl of aggression that made Kiernan’s spine tingle.
The sight of her daughter sent a torrent of adrenaline flowing through her. “Kenley, look out for Roman!”
Her daughter’s black ringlets swirled around her head as she sought out the Saber. It was disconcerting for Kiernan to see her daughter wielding so much power and so resolute upon destruction.
She was five years old.
Suddenly, Roman let out a roar and charged through the rubble toward Kenley. He was bleeding from multiple cuts on his face and blood droplets flew from him as he ran.
Kiernan left her sons under the table and began crawling up the aisle. She had to get to her daughter! “Kenley!”
She watched Kenley make a rotating circle with her hand and then thrust it out toward the advancing Saber. A powerful airstream hit Roman in the chest and threw him back onto the floor. He tried to get up but it was Kenley now advancing on him. She stalked toward him with her arm still out, holding him in place. His body slid backward on the marble, and he tried to scrabble away from the force of the airstream she commanded, but he was powerless against her magic. Kenley flicked her wrist and drove the Saber to the edge of the floor and up the wall wher
e he was pinned flat against the stone.
“Maman?”
“Yes, Kenley, I am here.”
“What should I do with him?”
Kiernan shook her head in remorse. A five-year-old should never have to face the prospect of such violence. She also realized that her daughter had not yet been marked. There had been no time. If she had, she would not have asked that question.
“Do not kill him, Kenley,” she said softly, regretfully.
“I am not sure if I can stop it, Maman!”
“You must,” she mumbled weakly.
Kiernan could see the effort on her daughter’s face and then she dropped her arm and Roman fell to the marble floor with a grunt.
A growl echoed throughout the hall. “There’s no blood oath holding me back!” It was Miss Belle, and she cried out as she ran toward the Saber with the leg of a broken table raised before her like a club.
Roman took one look at the charging woman and stood, taking off at a run to dive through one of the stained glass windows of Grace Hall.
Miss Belle caught up at the window and looked down at the one story drop. “He’s running away! Coward! Come back here again and I’ll show you what happens to traitorous filth like you!”
Kiernan had been making her way up the aisle, but now that Roman was gone, she began crawling anxiously back to her sons. She just now realized that she had never heard either one of them cry.
“Miss Belle! My sons!”
“Sons? You had the baby?” Miss Belle asked, obviously confused as both she and Kenley rushed past her to the table with the linen tablecloth peeking out from underneath.
Kiernan got up onto her hands and knees now so she could move faster. Leaving her own trail of blood on the marble floor, she began crying again.
Miss Belle had already moved the table from over the boys and Kiernan almost did not want to look, terrified that they were dead.
But, she did look, and her body trembled with an emotional ecstasy that only a mother could understand.
Twin sets of pudgy little fingers wiggled in the air as her two sons cooed contentedly.
Men were running into the hall now. She heard Captain Bo Franck’s voice above the victorious shouts.
“It is yours, Your Grace! The city is yours!”
CHAPTER 18
Loose Ends
Five days after the defeat of the uprising from the Houses of Etin, Conry and Winslow, Beck and Airron rode through the gates of Nysa. While all agreed it was a triumphant military campaign, the city did not walk away unscathed from the revolt. Fifty Scarlet Sabers were dead and at least that same number of citizens.
Instead of the somber tone Beck was expecting from a city just back from the brink of war, the opposite was true. Jubilant Nysians had taken to the streets in celebratory glee. Dannery Row teemed with drinking and dancing citizens grateful to be rid of the marauding soldiers who had caused such turmoil in their peaceful lives.
Few recognized Beck as he passed by, unaccustomed to seeing the Prince of Iserlohn without an entourage by his side.
He glanced at Airron. His usually garrulous friend was unusually quiet. They had not had much of an opportunity to speak on the journey from Elloree, choosing instead the privacy of their bunks to recover from their mutual ordeals. He suspected it had something to do with the departure of his wife. Beck let him be. His friend would talk about what was bothering him when he was ready.
When they finally managed to pick their way through the congested throng to the royal palace, Rogan was waiting for them.
Beck dismounted and the two friends embraced tightly.
“The watershifters sent word that you were on your way,” Rogan said, patting Beck on the back. “I can’t tell you how good it is to know you are safe.”
Beck pulled back and looked at his friend warmly. “I hear you have your own tale to tell?”
“I do, but first things first.” The Dwarf held his hand out to Airron still sitting atop his horse. “Pay up, Elf.”
Airron feigned indignation, but then smirked and reached into the purse at his waist.
“What’s this?” Beck asked.
“Oh, our overconfident friend here made a wager with me that he would be the first to return to Nysa.”
“I will give this one to you, fireball,” Airron conceded. “But,” he said boastfully. “I did manage to kill Avalon Ravener. Can you top that, my friend?”
Beck cleared his throat. “Technically, since this is an official bet and all, your wife killed Avalon, not you.”
“Aha! I knew it! You are trying to cheat!” Rogan growled. “Not only did I make it back here first, but I defeated Etin’s army and saved the people of Nysa!”
Airron shook his head. “Technically, Lord Gage Gregaros and the Halfies routed the army. We heard all about it.”
“Well, I was there, and I still won our bet.”
Airron tossed a silver tenet down toward the Dwarf. “Yes you did, and you know what they say. An Elf always pays his debts.”
“I thought the saying was…”
“Never mind, you two,” growled Beck. “I want to see my family.”
Rogan cleared his throat loudly.
“What is it?” Beck questioned. “Is everything all right?”
Rogan nodded. “Yes, everything is well, but you may want to wait before visiting your wife. She is busy at the moment entertaining a few men in her room.”
“What? Speak sense, man!” He shook his head. “No, never mind, I will find out for myself.” Beck threw Chasin’s reins to Rogan and ran up the palace steps. The movement caused the lash marks on his body to throb painfully, but he ignored it.
Two men? What could Rogan possibly be talking about?
A Saber passing by looked at him in surprise when he entered the palace and, seeing that he was alone, quickly fell into step behind him.
Anxious now to see his wife and daughter, Beck sprinted across the foyer and took the stairs two at a time until he reached the third floor.
Entertaining two men?
He raced down the corridor until he came to his chamber suite. Two Sabers, neither one Roman or Kirby, were standing in front of the door. Both knelt when they saw him.
“None of that nonsense!” he snapped. “Open the door!”
The Sabers jumped to their feet. “Congratulations, Your Grace.”
His head was spinning now with the mixed messages he was receiving, and he burst through the doors like a madman and stormed into the bedroom he shared with his wife.
The sight of Kiernan, laying on the canopied bed, with Kenley on one side and a bundled baby in her arms collapsed him to the ground.
His son had arrived.
There were so many hours over the past days with Avalon Ravener that he never thought to see his family again. And, now, here they were right in front of him and with the newest member of their household.
“Come here, my love,” Kiernan said, and he looked up to see her hand reaching for his.
He staggered to his feet and went to the bed. He took Kenley into his arms and held her tight to him, breathing in the clean scent of her dark curls.
“Hi Daddy. I missed you so much!”
“Me too, Ken, me too,” he croaked out.
Kiernan smiled at him. “You were wrong, Beck, you do not have a son.”
His grin widened as he looked at the little baby swaddled in white. “Another daughter, then. One who will help her sister spoil me in my old age, I hope.” Kenley giggled when he tickled her under the chin. He set her back down on the bed and reached for the baby. “Can I hold her?”
Kiernan shook her head. “You do not understand. You do not have a son. You have two.” She looked down and drew his eyes to another bundle lying on the other side of the bed.
“Twins?” he asked incredulously.
She nodded. “I would like to introduce you to Kellan Jaimes and Kane Maximus. I hope you do not mind that I named them already.”
They had
never discussed names before, and he was touched that she would name one of his sons after his father. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “The names are perfect. Just like you.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he picked up one of the twins, and the stories unfolded regarding Roman’s betrayal, and Kenley saving her mother and siblings with her airshifting power. Next, Kiernan described how she had delivered their sons in the middle of the nightmare, single-handedly.
He smiled and said all the right things in all the right places, and told his girls how proud he was of them, but the remarkable bravery of his family only underscored what he had been feeling for days.
He had failed in his duty to his family and in his royal obligations to the people of Iserlohn.
He had let them all down when they needed him the most.
Smokey filaments undulated through the tavern as though alive, obscuring all they touched in gray shadows. The gloom suited his needs just fine. Relieved to have made it out of Nysa alive, he traveled directly south to his home town of Janis, but had no desire to engage in idle conversation. The silky screen provided a convenient barrier in keeping the other patrons at bay.
Before becoming a Saber, Roman had spent many a long, enjoyable night in this bar called The Wild Boar with his father. He still would be enjoying them if not for Kiernan Atlan.
How could all of their carefully laid plans have collapsed into such ruin? Admittedly, he never met a plan that fell into place exactly as intended, but this was a disaster.
Mr. Black was dead.
Mr. Blue was dead.
And, Kiernan Atlan was still alive.
According to a watershifter he talked to that morning, so was Beck Atlan. What did it take to kill these people?
A young serving girl approached his table. “Hi,” she said shyly. “What happened to your face?”
His hand involuntarily rose to the cuts on this face from his dive out of Grace Hall. He shook his head. “Nothing.”
“There is a woman at the bar who wishes to know if you would like company.”
Instantly alert, he asked, “Who?” “The attractive, dark-haired lady at the bar.”
Island Shifters: Book 02 - An Oath of the Mage Page 18
