Roman looked around the serving girl. He immediately spotted the woman, she was the only female there, but did not recognize her. “What did she say?”
“Only that you were the best looking man in The Boar tonight and that she could really use some company. And, coin, if you get my meaning.”
He did. If he decided to accept the woman’s invitation, she would not be the first whore he had taken to his bed. He shrugged his shoulders. What else was he going to do tonight? A little relaxation to take his mind off the impossible events of the past few days would be a welcome distraction.
“You can have me for free,” the serving girl offered. Her prospects in the small community of Janis limited, she was probably hoping that the act would lead to marriage so she could leave the drudgery of The Boar and start a family.
He thought about the proposal while he again looked at the dark-haired woman at the bar. If you could call her a woman. She appeared extremely young. Still, a spasm of desire rushed through him when he studied her profile. There was a mystery about her that was just begging for him to unravel. “No, thanks,” he said to the serving girl. She threw him a disappointed look and turned to leave. He grabbed her arm. “Tell the woman I am staying at The Lantern, second floor, first door on the right.”
She nodded reluctantly and walked toward the bar to deliver his message.
Roman picked up his mug, drained the rest of the ale and walked out into the night. He did not have far to go, The Lantern Inn was directly across the street.
With the exception of The Wild Boar, the conservative town was closed up for the night, most people long abed at this hour. The public turned a blind eye at their men folk enjoying a drink or two in the local tavern, but that is where they drew the line, and those same men would be the first through the doors to church on Sunday morning. It was a little incestuous for his taste, and that is why he left. The serving girl would do well to follow his example and get out while she still could.
When he stepped off the wooden platform that surrounded the business district, he remembered that it was on this very street that the shifters first came to Janis and humiliated his father in front of the whole town. Later that evening, the man had been pursued out of the gates like a wild animal and murdered in cold blood.
He had lost both parents that night. He was never able to forgive his mother for the killing with the aid of Kiernan Atlan. The Princess might not have been the one to deliver the final blow, but she had been the catalyst that started events in motion, whispering dark insinuations into his mother’s ear. He knew his mother, and she never would have committed this act on her own. Before Kiernan Atlan came to town, she was a gentle, caring soul who knew her place in this world. To his way of thinking, whatever his father may have done to his mother in the past, he did not deserve to pay for those actions with his life.
With a snarl of satisfaction, he took comfort in the fact that he was still alive, and that meant that there would be plenty of time to see justice carried out. Now, though, another form of comfort filled his mind.
He entered The Lantern Inn and was not surprised to find the common room empty. A man named Jase once owned the inn, but now the proprietor was a mousey, nosy woman who asked too many questions. He had to tell her to mind her own business earlier that evening.
A door behind the bar opened up, and she came out and eyed him as he walked to the steps to the second floor and his room. Undoubtedly, she would also notice when the woman from The Boar come to his room as well. He laughed. That would give her something to gossip about.
Outside of his room, he opened the door cautiously with his hand on the hilt of his sword, Saber instincts on high alert. He did not think anyone knew he was in town, but he could not take any chances.
The room was as he left it, his belongings arranged in the same positions. Entering, he lit the lantern for more light, unbuckled his scabbard from his waist, and hooked it on the back of the only chair in the room. He was just splashing his face with warm water from the basin when a soft knock sounded outside.
That was quick.
He walked to the door. “Yes?”
“You know very well who it is,” said an arrogant female voice.
He opened the door and admitted the woman from the bar. Again, he noted how young she was, but now also observed how her manner and confidence were that of a much older woman. She wore a light linen cloak that she removed and threw on the chair next to his sword.
He gave a mental shrug. Arrogance could be easily tempered.
Crossing the room, he grabbed her shoulders and swung her up against the door. His hand shot out and he ripped the lace bodice of her dress away from her body. Groping her cruelly, he drove his mouth down on hers.
She pulled her head away and brought her hands up to his chest. “My, my, an anxious one.”
He looked down at her smug face and swung his hand up to slap her across the face. “Don’t talk. You know what you are here for.” He briefly considered mindshifting her, but found himself aroused by the game.
Her tongue darted out and she licked at the small cut on her lip from his strike. “How about a drink first?” she suggested.
“How about you get undressed and on that bed?”
She shook her head and squeezed by him. “I promise it will be worth the wait.”
He gazed at her with irritation. “There is a bottle on the table. Make it quick.”
While she poured her drink, he undressed and laid on the bed. Originally, he thought to have his way with the woman and quickly send her on her way, but changed his mind. He still had a great deal of frustration to unleash and she would provide the perfect outlet. His eyes scanned the room for a gag to use that would silence her screams.
The girl walked over and held the glass out to him. “There is only one glass. Your turn.”
He grabbed the glass from her hand and downed the contents. “You have had your drink, now give me what I want.”
He pulled her on top of him.
“I don’t think so.”
“I know so,” he sneered. “And, if I have to beat you into submission, all the better.” “Like father, like son.”
The comment startled him and he sat up on the bed. Immediately, his head began to spin, and he thought he might vomit. “What do you know of my father?”
She shrugged. “Uncovering facts about those I work with has always been a priority for me.”
Work with? What was she talking about, and why was it becoming so hard to think? His Saber training screamed at him that all was not right with this woman. He tried to push her away, but his arms felt weak. She pressed against him for a kiss, and as soon as their lips met, the air shimmered in front of his eyes.
“Ahh!” he screamed and shrank back in shock. “What is going on?” he demanded. The woman was gone, and sitting on the bed next to him was a balding man with strange eyes.
Mr. Orange.
Roman dove toward his sword, but his movements were clumsy, and Mr. Orange easily beat him to it.
“Do not think about the sword, and do not think about mindshifting me. The drug I put in your drink has quite efficiently robbed you of that ability.”
Roman was on the floor now, looking up at the blurred image before him. “You are a bodyshifter?”
Mr. Orange nodded. “Among other things.”
Bloody hell. Could it be? “Avalon Ravener,” he voiced aloud in a slur.
“In the flesh,” Mr. Orange confirmed.
“I thought you were dead.”
“Unfortunately for you, no. An Elf plunged a dagger in my chest, but missed my heart. It was easy to cast a spell over my body to make me appear dead, but after the assailants left, my Cyman guards took care of my wound, and here I am.” Mr. Orange shook his head. “I hate Elves.”
“What do you want with me?”
Mr. Orange smiled. “Oh, just eliminating loose ends. I never did like to leave behind people that have personal knowledge of me. I even killed
my own lover once rather than leave him behind.”
Roman opened his mouth to scream, but Mr. Orange cast a spell that paralyzed his vocal chords and then kicked him under the chin. “That is for the bloody lip.”
Roman struggled weakly in a pitiful attempt to fight back, but it was hopeless. A baby could have overpowered him at this point.
“Farewell, Mr. Red.”
For the second time, Roman saw a faint flicker in the air and then a winged creature stood over him. The beast opened its mouth in a hiss, and multiple rows of tiny sharpened teeth gleamed with saliva in the light of the lantern.
As the repugnant abomination began to tear at his body with gnashing teeth and claws, he finally had the answer to a question that puzzled him for a long time. A fatal mistake, it turns out, that he did not look for the answer sooner.
For he now knew Mr. Orange’s motive.
He was pure evil.
CHAPTER 19
The Trial
Kiernan smiled down at her two sons sleeping peacefully in their cradles. Only a week old and already the differences were noticeable. Kellan, her firstborn son, was dark-haired and much larger than his brother by almost two pounds. My little earthshifter, she decided. He also was much more vociferous about his needs and demanded more of her attention than his brother. Her second son, fair-haired and more reserved, seemed not to mind acquiescing the limelight to his brother. His eyes were a shade of brown so light that they appeared almost yellow and seemed inexplicably intelligent and knowing as he watched her move around the room. She could not venture a guess as of yet as to what shifting ability he would have.
Now that they were asleep, it was a good time to seek out her husband. Beck had been very withdrawn since he came back to her from his ordeal with Avalon Ravener, and she was determined to discover why. She had not asked for any details of his captivity and he in turn had not offered any. It was obvious that he had been whipped—the scars on his body were horrific—but, something else was bothering him. Something more personal.
She left her bedroom and walked into the sitting room where Kirby Nash and Kenley were playing a board game called Dragon’s Fire. The object was to roll a dice and move the game piece the corresponding number along a checkered board without touching the square holding the dragon figurine. The game belonged to Kiernan when she was Kenley’s age, and she adored playing this very same game with Captain Bo Franck.
Filled with guilt, her daughter had not left Kirby’s side for a moment since he was injured at her hand.
Miss Belle, the right side of her face sporting a large purple bruise, was sitting in an armchair knitting and Baya, as usual, was curled up by the fire.
Miss Belle immediately rose and put aside her work. “Should you be up, child?”
Kiernan waved her away. “Yes. I have been stuck in these rooms for days and I need some fresh air before I go stir crazy.” In truth, she did feel a little wobbly, but refused to let it show. “I will be back soon!” she said and walked out of the door before Miss Belle had a chance to question her further.
Anton LaFrae was standing outside of her chambers and she nodded to him and walked toward the stairs, the Saber following behind her silently.
She wondered where to begin the search for her husband. If this were Bardot, he would seek solace in his private office at The Academy, but they were still in Nysa to allow her time to recover from the twins’ birth.
She hurried down three flights of stairs and outside into the sun-filled afternoon. Airron was sitting on the edge of the fountain in the royal gardens but, completely absorbed in his thoughts, he did not look up. He seemed just as preoccupied now as he did when he came to visit her and the boys earlier. It seemed her husband’s sullenness had affected Airron as well.
It suddenly came to her that Beck was probably hiding out in the stables. After a brief return to Bardot, Beck rode Chasin back to Nysa yesterday and a visit with his old horse always had a way of lightening his mood.
She walked the brick pathway through the gardens and two more Scarlet Sabers joined Anton. It did not bother Kiernan the way it bothered Beck. Except for her time in Pyraan, royal protection had always been an inescapable way of life as a Princess.
The sound of pounding hammers and the rasp of saws filled the air. The royal groundskeepers were constructing a wooden dais for the trial this afternoon of Abram Winslow and Ava Conry, accused of treason to the Crown. It had been a very long time since a public trial had taken place in the city of Nysa, but the seriousness of the crimes and the vast number of innocents who suffered injuries demanded that the people be allowed to stand witness.
Besides the workmen, the streets were unusually quiet due to the late nights of revelry. Those few that were out knelt and offered shouted congratulations to her on the birth of the two new Princes. Kiernan acknowledged all with a gracious nod or wave. The sun and the smiles made her realize just how much she had to be thankful for. Her family and friends were safe, her father was free, and Avalon Ravener was dead. For the first time in years, she could live her life without feeling like she had to constantly look over her shoulder for the sorceress.
As she suspected, Beck was in the stables grooming Chasin. The wide double doors were thrown open wide and she stood there staring at him for a moment. The cut on his cheek was healing, but it made her heart ache to think of the pain he went through. She vowed to make it up to him somehow.
As if he could read her thoughts, he turned to the door. When he saw her, he gave her a small smile and she walked over to him. “If I did not know you better, I would think that you were hiding from me,” she said, reaching out to pet Chasin’s nose.
“Of course not,” he replied and continued his strokes with the brush.
She reached out, grabbed his arm, and forced him to look at her. “What is it, Beck? You know you can tell me anything. I will not judge or hold against you whatever you have to say. I give you my word.”
He turned away and put his head down.
She decided it was best to just come out and say what was on her mind. “Did you and Avalon…?”
His head snapped up. “No!” It was his turn now to take her arm. “I promise you as your husband that no such thing ever happened. What would make you ask that?”
Relief flooded through her. “You have been so withdrawn lately that I just figured it had something to do with whatever happened during your captivity.”
“It has everything to do with that! Don’t you see, Kiernan? I failed. I failed you, Kenley, our sons, Maximus, Gemini Starr, Darin Morel, and the list goes on.”
She was confused. “Why are you shouldering the blame for something that you had no control over? Those deaths belong at the hands of Avalon Ravener and Davad Etin, Beck. Not you.”
“There will always be evil people in this world, Kiernan. So, what will happen the next time a Davad Etin rears his head? Will I be just as powerless? And, how many people will die then? Will it be you or one of the children?” His tortured features begged for her understanding.
She did understand. “This is about you becoming a Mage, isn’t it? You feel that if you had the powers of a Mage, those lives could have been saved.”
His blue eyes were full of conviction. “I do.”
“I don’t agree. Like you said, there will always be evil. Even as a Mage you cannot possibly save everyone from harm. It is unrealistic.”
“No, not everybody, but I can save you, Kenley, Kellan, and Kane,” he said softly.
She turned from him then and rubbed her arms to rid her body of the awful premonition that gripped her whenever they had this discussion. She turned back, tears in her eyes this time. “I never told you this before, but Diamond had a vision about you and it concerned a journey you would take one day.” She looked him in the eye. “It ended with your death.”
“Kiernan…”
“I believe in my heart, that if you leave me to become a Mage, you will never come back.”
He took her ha
nds. “You know that Diamond’s visions do not always come true. And, it does not mean that it was this journey that she saw. It could have been me journeying into the Grayan for a blacktail hunt at the age of ninety-nine. I will be back, Kiernan, I give you my word.”
“No.” She turned her back to him. “You are asking me to choose between the safety of a family that is not in danger and you. I cannot do it, Beck. I will not gamble with your life. Living without you is not something I can survive. Please do not ask me again.”
When he did not respond, she walked out of the stables.
Beck knew he was late and raced through the palace corridors tugging at the sleeves of his black coat. He spent more time in the stables than he intended and when he arrived back at the suite, Kiernan had already left.
Straining his neck to catch glimpses out of the row of windows as he ran, it looked to him like every citizen in Nysa had turned out for the trial. The courtyard and streets beyond were crammed full of spectators. Opinions regarding the proper punishment for the felonious nobles ranged from a public stoning to a life sentence in the palace dungeons. Beck was just as curious as the people to see how Maximus would rule.
The Sabers at the front doors held them open for him, and he dashed out into the courtyard. Hastily stepping up onto the newly constructed dais, he nodded to the drastically reduced Court members before taking his seat next to Kiernan. She did not glance his way, but stared straight ahead, sitting regally and breathtaking beautiful in a scarlet, silk dress and arm veils.
“Still angry with me?” he whispered.
“I could ask the same of you.”
“Why would I be angry?”
“Because of how weak I am when it comes to you.”
He reached out and turned her chin his way. “You are the bravest and strongest woman I know. And, the discussion is over. I will not ask it of you again.”
She reached over and squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”
The royal trumpeter heralded the appearance of the King. A procession of Scarlet Sabers in their crisp scarlet tunics and black sashes marched out of the palace and down the stairs, shiny Sabers glinting in what was left of the late afternoon sun.
Island Shifters: Book 02 - An Oath of the Mage Page 19
