The Kinshield Legacy

by K. C. May

  Gavin shrugged. “If they see you as a traitor, being in Sohan’s prob’ly dangerous for you. Until that other girl returns, they won’t know who I am, but you…”

  “Let me go to the compound alone, then, and talk to them. You can wait for me at a place of your choosing.”

  He didn’t answer, and they rode in silence until they reached the gate just after dusk. “Meet me at the western gate at daybreak,” he said. “If you’re not there, I go on alone.”

  “I’ll be there or I’ll be dead.” She bowed in the saddle and guided Calie down Music Street toward the Sisterhood compound. She owed him a favor for this.

  Gavin watched Daia as she left, wondering at the sight of her back whether she would return. If she were a prudent battler, she would exercise caution, knowing that the guild considered her a traitor. If not, then he supposed he was better off without her. The thought was moan-worthy. He enjoyed her company if not the comfort of having her eye on his back.

  He dismounted and led Golam through the streets of Sohan on foot. It wasn’t one of his favorite cities, but he knew where to find other warrant knights for ales and tales. Along the main thoroughfares, free-standing cressets had been lit, providing enough light that people needed no torches to find their way.

  The clang of metal striking metal brought Gavin to a stop. That sound, familiar in a distant way, stirred a memory of something from his past. He couldn’t quite capture it, like trying to grab a fistful of smoke. It might have had something to do with his father, but no matter how he tried, he saw in his mind’s eye only a tall ceiling and something tan.

  He continued through the market, scanning for a food vendor. As he walked along, he caught sight of a familiar face in the crowd: his passionate pendant thief.

  He tied Golam’s reins to a post so that he could circle around and approach her from behind. He wove his way through the townsfolk bartering for late-day discounts until he stood directly beside her. The woman stood before a bread cart, squeezing loaves and tearing off small chunks from the bottoms whenever the merchant looked away. With a cool smile, he gripped her upper arm.

  She gasped and tried to jerk away, looking up with an expression of shock that changed quickly to recognition and then to dread.

  “You didn’t even leave me a pielar for a piece of bread.”

  The woman stuttered for a moment. “I’m sorry. I’ll give it back.”

  He pulled her through the crowd to stand under a lamp so he could heat his blade.

  “Mama!” A trio of children swarmed them. Tiny fists rained down on Gavin’s hand, arm, back and buttocks. “Let her go! Let go-a my mother!” they cried. A dirty-faced boy with matted brown hair opened his mouth wide and set his teeth against Gavin’s forearm.

  “There now, stop that,” he said, yanking his arm out of the child’s mouth. Tiny indentations formed two semi-circles in his skin. Something hit him hard in the shin. Gavin turned and saw his would-be pickpocket from Ambryce with the copper-colored hair, snarling like a rabid dog and kicking him repeatedly with her tattered boot. He took hold of the girl by the shoulder, holding her at arm’s length, out of range of her feet. “You again. This is your mother?”

  “Yeh,” she said, “and you better leave her alone.” She kicked out again and missed her target by a half-foot.

  “It’s awright, Fiora,” the woman said. She put an arm around her daughter and pulled her away from Gavin. “He just wants to talk to me. You and the boys go stand over there a minute.”

  The children stopped their attack and glared at him while they backed away. They huddled by the wall of a shop. The girl was the tallest; the two boys couldn’t have been more than four or five years old.

  “I already spent most of it,” the woman said as she pulled Gavin’s coin purse from a pocket. “But here’s what’s left. Please don’t take me to gaol -- my children’ll have nobody.”

  “Where’s their father?” Gavin asked.

  “Bein’ ripped asunder by beyonders, I hope. He promises to do what needs doin’, then runs away like a timid puppy -- just like his own papa. Leaves his children to suffer for his failures.” She held the purse out to him and he took it, but he didn’t have to open it to know that Calewen’s Pendant was not inside.

  “The necklace – where is it?”

  “Sold it,” she said, glancing away.

  “Don’t lie to me. Who’d you give it to?”

  She tucked her lips between her teeth. A tear dribbled from one eye and she quickly wiped it away. “The battler you was settin’ with at the tavern. He tol’ me I could keep the money if I stole the necklace and gave it to ’im.”

  “Which one? There were three.” He needed proof before he took his sword to the matter.

  She hung her head and said, “The blond with the beard.”

  To be sure, he relaxed his gaze and looked over the glow surrounding her body. She’d told him the truth. “Why’d you do it?”

  She sniffled and wiped her nose with her sleeve. “I had to hire a ride to Sohan. It was too far for the young’uns to walk.”

  He picked up first her right hand, then her left, pushing up her sleeves to reveal the smooth skin on her forearms. No brands yet. “Dalli, you know I got to do this,” he said softly.

  She nodded without looking up.

  He drew his knife and held the blade in the cresset’s flame. “Don’t jerk. It’ll hurt more if you do.” He grasped her left wrist tightly to hold her arm still. As he dragged the tip of his knife over her skin, a line of blood rose to the surface. After carving the G, he wiped her arm with his shirt tail before starting on the K. Tears streamed down her face, but she did not make a peep. When he released her arm, it fell limply to her side. She didn’t clutch it, didn’t try to wrap it in the cloth of her blouse. She stood with her eyes downcast.

  “Sorry,” he said softly. “Take this.” He picked up her right hand and put his coin purse in her palm.

  “It never ends, does it?” she asked softly. “My children’ll grow up the way I did and raise their children the same way. Beggin’, whorin’, stealin’. It’ll never end.”

  “It can end,” Gavin replied. “But you have to end it. You have to be the strong one. Find yourself a job as a washerwoman or somethin’. Teach your children how to live an honest life by your example.”

  She nodded and sniffled. “I will. I got a new friend,” she said. “A wealthy friend. He said he’d help me. I just need to find him, but I’m havin’ no luck.”

  “Who’s your friend?”

  “Lord Tyr. I tried askin’ the Lordover Sohan where he lives, but the guards wouldn’t let me up to ’is mansion.”

  “Sithral Tyr? The Nilmarion?” Gavin asked.

  She looked up, her face brightening. “Yeh, that’s ’im. You know ’im? You know where I could find ’im?”

  Gavin glanced over at the children watching them from under the shop’s awning. “If you don’t want a brand on your other arm, you’ll stay away from Sithral Tyr. He’s the one who sent you to steal that necklace by way of the blond battler. Look what it got you.”

  Dalli’s eyes widened and she looked up at him. “No,” she cried. “That ain’t so. It can’t be so. He promised to help me.” She burst into tears. “No, no, it can’t be. He promised.”

  Gavin looked at her more closely. This was not the calculated performance of a criminal, but the desperate plea of a mother. “Dalli, listen. Get yourself to Lalorian and find the lordover’s mansion. Ask for his son, Edan Dawnpiper. Tell him Gavin sent you.”

  She snapped her head up with a gape, face streaked with tears. “Truly?”

  Gavin nodded. “He’ll help you. Will you do that?”

  Dalli threw her arms around him and sobbed. He held her for a moment, patting her back awkwardly, until she pulled away and wiped her eyes. “Thank you, my lord. Thank you. I’ll never forget your kindness.”

  With one last glance at the copper-haired girl, the girl that was not Caevyan, Gavin turned and lef
t.

  Chapter 36

  The compound was still and quiet, the women probably in the dining hall sitting down at supper. Daia guided Calie up to the gate at the guardhouse.

  “Hail,” she called out.

  A guard stepped out: Nasharla. A friend. She looked around furtively. “Daia. What are you doing here?” she said softly.

  “I’m back from a mission. Open the gate,” Daia said.

  Nasharla shook her head. “You’d better stay out of sight or find your head on a pole.”

  “What are you talking about?” Her heart quickened. Gavin’s attackers were no renegades.

  “Listen. Cirang told everyone what happened, and they’ve branded you a thief and a traitor. Lilalian wants you dead.”

  Daia gasped. She looked through the iron bars at the dark windows of Aminda’s office. “How can they have blown it out of proportion like that? Is Aminda here? I need to talk to her – explain what happened.”

  “Aminda’s dead. Lilalian’s in charge now, and Cirang’s her captain.”

  No. Aminda couldn’t be dead. “How?” she croaked.

  “Lilalian says she choked on her food. Some of us-- some of the women don’t believe it.” The guard cast a look behind her. “Stay away, for your own sake. Something strange is happening. No one trusts anyone any more, and you’re their newest enemy. If they catch you, they’ll execute you for JiNese’s murder.”

  “JiNese? JiNese isn’t dead, only her horse. Tell me it’s only her horse.”

  “They brought her body back for burial the other day. Cirang said she pulled your knife from JiNese’s chest.”

  Daia swallowed down the urge to vomit. Cirang had stolen her knife. “Tennara can speak for me. JiNese was alive when I left them in Tern. As for the rest, here.” She pulled from her knapsack the purse of coins she’d gotten from Tennara and the merchant. “This is the payment for my mission. Every pielar’s there. This will prove I’m no thief.”

  Nasharla held up both hands. “I can’t take that. If I give it to Lilalian, she’ll know I spoke to you, and then I’d be arrested for not detaining you. Keep it, Daia. You’re going to need it.” She looked over her shoulder. “My partner’s returning from the privy. You’d better leave now.”

  Daia nodded. Nasharla took a big personal risk by talking to her. “My thanks,” she said. “I owe you.” She turned Calie about and headed for the market to catch up with Gavin.

  It occurred to her that the second Sister Gavin had seen also knew they were traveling together. With her description of Gavin, the Sisterhood would be looking for them both. He would be in as much danger here as she was. Gavin would be safer if they did not search the city for Sithral Tyr together.

  She rode through town and checked some of the taverns nearest the western gate where battlers gathered. In a particularly foul-smelling place, she found Gavin seated with a few battlers, one of whom she recognized from the Lucky Inn: Domach Demonshredder, Brawna’s dark-haired brother. With five battlers sitting together drinking ale, Daia would undoubtedly be made to suffer rude jokes and suggestive comments. She was in no mood for it. She took a deep breath and headed to their table.

  “Well, well, little Sister,” one of them said. “Join us. There’s room here on my lap.” He patted his thigh and held a hand out to her.

  “How about if I sit on your chest and pummel your face bloody?” she spat.

  “Hooo! She sounds dangerous,” another said.

  A third one said, “I can tame the wildcat. Five minutes in my bed and she’ll be purrin’ like a kitten.”

  Daia narrowed her eyes and curled her hands into fists. She might actually like to see him try it.

  Gavin looked up at her and winked, then folded his arms and leaned his chair back on two legs. “I dare you to pinch her bottom,” he said to the first man. “I’ll give you a kion if you do it.”

  Daia furrowed her brows at Gavin. Perhaps he wanted to see this fellow take a beating in front of his friends.

  “Somehow I get the feeling you’re trying to set me up, Kinshield,” the man said. “Don’t think I’ll try it -- for less than a dycla.”

  The other men laughed. One of them fished in his coin purse and threw two kions onto the table. “I’d pay to see that,” he said. “Who else’ll put in with me?”

  Domach stood up. “Daia, ignore these barbarians. It’s a pleasure to see you again. Take my seat. I’ll get another.”

  “No, thank you, Domach. I can’t stay.” She turned to Gavin. “May I speak with you a moment?”

  The other men hooted suggestively and cheered him on. “Tell us about it later, Gavin,” one of them said.

  They were all alike. Daia walked to the door with Gavin following behind. When she reached the street, she turned to face him and glimpsed Domach’s disappointed expression watching them through the doorway as he sat back down.

  “You get the answers you were looking for?” Gavin asked.

  “I got answers, but now I have more questions. It’s not safe here for either of us. We should ask around about Tyr tonight, while it’s still dark. We’ll need to get a room and hope no one asks too many questions.”

  “A room. I like the sound of that.”

  “A pair of rooms,” she said, “if you don’t want to sleep on the floor.” She gave herself a mental slap on the head. He would soon be the king – she wouldn’t make him sleep on the floor.

  Gavin chuckled. “Let me finish my tankard. Golam’s stabled at the Lion’s Inn across the street. Why don’t you get your horse settled there, and we’ll go on foot.”

  “All right. I’ll meet you here. We can decide our plan then.” Daia unhitched Calie and headed toward the inn.

  Gavin went back into the tavern and bowed at the applause coming from his table. “No woman can resist this,” he said, pointing at himself with a smile. He reached for his tankard and felt it slap into his palm. If he hadn’t known better, he’d have thought it moved. He picked up the tankard and started to guzzle the ale down.

  “Do you know her well?” Domach asked.

  Gavin eyed him over the rim. After he set the tankard back on the table, empty, and wiped the foam from his lip, he patted Domach’s shoulder. “Well enough.” He couldn’t resist taunting Domach at every opportunity. “She just told me she wanted to get a room, so I’ll have to wish you all a good evening. Strength and courage.”

  Domach followed him from the tavern amid the hoots of encouragement. “Kinshield,” he said quietly. “Set aside our friendly competitions for a moment. Are you and she really, uh, involved?”

  Domach was smitten. Gavin smiled grimly. “Naw, Demonshredder. She ain’t interested in a buck like me. Maybe you’re more to her liking.”

  “But you travel with her?”

  “We’re looking for a friend.”

  Domach took a deep breath and nodded. “Thanks, Kinshield. I’ll let you win the next round of knives.”

  Gavin roared with laughter. “In that case, I’ll tie both my arms behind my back and throw with my teeth. That way I can brag about how I beat you.”

  Domach laughed and gave Gavin a friendly slap on the arm. His gaze shifted over Gavin’s shoulder.

  “Ready?” Daia asked as she approached.

  “It’s a bit late to be setting out,” Domach said to Daia. “Why not sit and have a drink with us? I’ll buy.”

  “We have some business to attend to,” Daia said. “But thanks for the offer. Next time we meet, I hope.”

  “I’ll bid you a safe journey then,” Domach said, and started back toward the tavern.

  A pensive look crossed Daia’s face. “Domach...” He turned around with a hopeful expression. “The evening I met you at the Lucky Inn – do you remember seeing a Nilmarion man wearing all black?”

  Domach walked back over to join them. “Yes, why do you ask?”

  “You know him?” Gavin asked.

  “Sure. Sithral Tyr.”

  Gavin and Daia exchanged a surprised glance. �
��Do you know where we can find him?” Daia asked.

  Domach looked from one to the other, a scowl darkening his face. “I’d have to know what this is about,” he said as he crossed his arms.

  Gavin looked around to be sure they were not within earshot of a casual eavesdropper. He tugged Domach’s sleeve to move him farther from the tavern door. “We think he kidnapped someone.”

  Even in the darkness, Domach’s shocked expression was plain. “Kidnapped? Are you sure it was Tyr?”

  “We’re fairly certain,” Daia replied. “If not him, perhaps he has some useful information.”

  Domach put a hand to his forehead and wiped it down his face. “Damn it all to hell. I suspected something odd... Listen, Tyr uses an abandoned farmhouse for his business. My employer sent me on a mission to take a package to that house.”

  “The one that never showed up?” Gavin asked. “When I saw you at the Lucky Inn, you said you were waiting for a package.”

  “That’s right. When I went back to report to my employer, he asked if I had escorted his guest to Tyr’s house. I didn’t know the package was a woman. I wonder if your kidnapped friend is there.”

  “Where?” Daia and Gavin asked in unison.

  “Can you take us?” Daia added.

  “It’s near Calsojourn. My employer gave me a map and hasn’t asked for it back. I’ll get it.” Domach did not wait for a response before jogging across the street to the inn.

  “I wonder who his employer is,” Daia said.

  “Ravenkind,” Gavin replied quietly. “Got to be.”

  “I sure hope Risan’s at that house.”

  Gavin nodded somberly. “And still alive.”

  Domach returned with a folded parchment. He handed it to Gavin. “I’ll come with you. I’ve never been there, so I don’t know if the map’s accurate or what we’ll find when we arrive. But we have to be careful; Toren Meobryn works for Tyr.”