The King's Knight (Royal Blood Book 5)

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The King's Knight (Royal Blood Book 5) Page 7

by Kristen Gupton


  Keiran stood up, his arm motioning back toward the door. “The severity of the winter isn’t my fault! I had nothing to do with that!”

  Unlike most, his outburst stirred up no outward reaction in her. She slowly closed the book before her and set her hands on top of it again. “The workings of the universe are larger and more complex than you can possibly understand, King Keiran. I suggest you read the signs being placed before you.”

  His arm fell back to his side, and he scowled, fangs descending. She’d incited his anger, no matter how he’d wanted to prevent it. “Mother Thinliss, you cannot possibly blame me for the weather. I’m certain this winter’s brutality went far beyond Tordania’s borders. Have all the other nations around us suffered because of what I am? Is that what you are honestly implying?”

  “It’s not for me to say, but the timing of this is all very interesting. I will continue to watch the signs as they unfold. I should hope you will as well, and if it occurs to you that you are doing more harm than good, I would ask you to step aside voluntarily,” she replied, unimpressed and unsurprised by the appearance of his fangs.

  His spine straightened, and he tugged at the lower hem of his shirt. “If all of this is a punishment because of my supposed evil nature, then why didn’t things like this happen during my father’s rule?”

  “Perhaps it was some protection brought on by magic, either from Peirte or Athan. I cannot say. All I can do is go from this point forward.” She stood up, lacing her hands before her stomach. “And from here forward, you will be watched. The time for you having unchecked power and undue influence within the church is over.”

  Keiran’s jaw tensed several times. Outwardly, he tried to keep back any further indications of his emotional state, but his racing heart and pounding temples made it difficult. He thought about leaving with nothing further, but what had happened in the town square before his visit crept into his mind.

  “I need to grant the church authorization to cremate the dead. Leaving them out as they are will do nothing but invite plague,” he said, his expression going deadpan. “I know my father always forbade it without good reason, but I wish that changed.”

  She tipped her head back for a moment before leveling her gaze at him again. “Since you have seen the town square in person and understand the scope of what happened, I will grant them permission to begin building pyres.”

  Before saying something to the old woman he’d regret, he gave a single nod and turned from the room. His mission had been accomplished.

  Jerris looked up from where he sat as Keiran came storming down the cathedral’s aisle. The wave of tension surrounding Keiran as he neared hit the guard like a ship’s bow wake. Jerris felt an adrenaline rush and he jumped up.

  “What is it?” he asked as Keiran strode by without slowing.

  The vampire didn’t divert his gaze from the doors he headed toward. “We will discuss it later. We are leaving. Now.”

  Jerris jogged to keep up, looking back over his shoulder and half expecting something to emerge behind them. He knew Mother Thinliss as well as Keiran did and suspected things hadn’t gone well. “What did she say?”

  The vampire didn’t ease his pace until they were out of the building and back in the town square. He drew in a long breath before speaking in little more than a growl. “She’s the new leader of the church, and she is going to be an absolute nightmare to deal with. Knowing they’ve elected her for some ungodly reason was about the last thing I needed.”

  “I know there is no love lost between that old witch and us, but what did she say?” Jerris asked again, following Keiran back to the horses.

  “That I am against God by the very nature of my being, for one,” he huffed, turning to face his companion once they were near their mounts. “She sees the relationship that I had with Father Beezle as inappropriate. Mother Thinliss believes he was too lenient with me because of it; a wrong she intends to correct.”

  Jerris frowned and rolled his eyes. “Why would they ever have elected her?”

  “Because, for all of her social ineptitude, she did somehow manage to clean up the mess Peirte left in his wake,” he said, his shoulders rounding. “I suppose there were those afraid I would fall to evil due to circumstances and choosing her was their best means of heading that off. She’s insufferable though. Having the nerve to tell me Father Beezle was a weak man and questioning his character…”

  Jerris raised his hands slightly, tipping his head forward. “At least we know her going into this. Imagine what a rude surprise it would have been to only now be meeting her for the first time.”

  He grunted and turned to get onto Porter. “I think I would have rather been eviscerated than to hear her voice. My reaction was nearly the same.”

  The guard followed suit, getting onto his horse. “Let’s just get home so we can both try to relax a little. We’ve got quite a bit to deal with already.”

  Keiran wasn’t about to argue and getting further away from the pall of death hanging over the town would be ideal. Still, as they rode out, he looked back over the square several times. He would carry the image of the caskets resting there forever in his memory.

  Chapter 3

  Emperor Betram stood on the Ibianese side of the Takrahn Bridge, eyes brimming with tears. The morning sky was a deep red from the smoke in the air. Much of Takrah lay smoldering on the other side of the river.

  “So, there is nothing you can do to help?” he asked the man standing beside him.

  Marique, the Ibianese king, slowly shook his head, his sights also fixed on the devastation. “Betram, we have been friends for many years, you know well the unique position Ibia is in. We cannot risk that status, no matter how much it pains me to say so.”

  No longer wearing his finery and dressed only in the basic clothes his host had given him, Betram didn’t look like a man of power. Defeated and exhausted, he looked like someone else completely. In fact, it had taken him and his remaining two men hours to convince the Ibianese guards to allow them audience with Marique to validate their identity.

  “Danier is Quitam though,” Betram replied, turning to his friend. “You know how repulsed he is by trade with the outside world. You do not expect him to continue paying Ibia for grain, do you?”

  Marique placed a hand on the smaller man’s shoulder. “Dear friend, your nation simply cannot produce enough food to support its population. The wells in your farmland dried up decades ago, your pastures long ago claimed by the desert. Empty stomachs make for more lenient trade contracts. He has no choice but to continue paying us, lest his men all starve to death. Were we to tangle ourselves in your domestic matter, it would worry our other trade partners. You surely understand. Ibia’s strength isn’t military might; it is in our neutrality and trade. Even if I wished to help, who would I send over that bridge to take down Danier?”

  Despite his pride, he slouched and hung his head. He’d suspected this would be Marique’s response, but he’d dared to hope. Still, he was above begging, and he knew very well the Ibianese king would not bend. “I have already paid ahead on this year’s shipments of grain. To think Danier will receive that…”

  Marique set his hand on Betram’s shoulder. “Now, that is something I have sway over. You paid me for grain, not Danier. When he comes asking, I will make him pay again. Your credit will remain on account until you are back in power.”

  “I do appreciate that, but can I get back into power?” Betram sighed. “He is a vampire now. Despite our efforts, we weren’t able to remain untainted after all. He was formidable before but now? How do I fight him? I don’t possess the strength, and I only have two of my men left.”

  Marique motioned back behind them at the tent city clustered around the base of the bridge. “You have many Sadori refugees and exiles here. Perhaps there will be some able to help?”

  “Exiles? You think those I exiled would be willing to help me?” Betram lifted his gaze and set his jaw. “Why would they? As for the refugees
, perhaps some would help, but it is far from the army that I need. To fight Danier, I need a vampire’s strength!”

  The Ibianese king gave a tight smile and slowly arched one of his well-groomed brows. “Have you not made one as a friend?”

  * * *

  “Are you absolutely certain you’re up to this?” Mari asked, sitting beside Garhan on the steps into the courtyard.

  He sat with his head hung, hands against the top of his head. His entire body trembled, his heart feeling as though it would break through his ribs. “I said I would go, and I will.”

  “We’ve barely made it outside,” she said quietly, rubbing his back.

  “I just need a few minutes,” he whispered, feeling the eyes of others in the courtyard upon him. “I’ve made a promise to you, and I intend to keep it.”

  “I don’t want you to make this entire trip in a panic, Garhan. It won’t help either of us.” Mari slid her hand up until her fingers tangled in the dark brown locks beginning to trail down his back.

  He let out a long breath and dropped his hands to his lap, consciously working to push through his fear. “I think doing this will help me, though. If I’m forced to be outdoors, it has to get better. I didn’t have this problem until we arrived here. Perhaps getting away, even for a short time, will alleviate it.”

  She started to reply but went silent as the door behind them opened and Keiran stepped out.

  He looked down at his brother and frowned. “Not doing all right?”

  Garhan sighed and forced himself to stand, turning around. “I’ll get there. I’m fine.”

  Keiran easily saw Garhan’s continued shaking and the poor color of his complexion. He glanced at Mari and quirked a brow.

  The small woman shrugged and shook her head. “He’s not giving up on this. Though, if we don’t get moving, next winter and more snow will be here.”

  Garhan scowled and straightened his back before turning and making his way down the rest of the stairs. “Then let’s go.”

  Mari looked at Keiran one last time and rolled her eyes before following Garhan. “Wish us luck!”

  Keiran watched as they went to the wall near the gates where two of Mari’s horses stood waiting. He wanted to say something to them, but he had no idea what.

  Garhan managed onto the horse Mari had chosen for him. He fidgeted and took several moments to get situated in the saddle, trying to distract himself from what they were about to embark upon.

  Despite her back pain, Mari was much more at ease once on her horse, and she watched Garhan as he fussed. “I know we’ve given you a hard time, but I am proud of you for doing this.”

  He looked over and gave a pained smile, knowing Keiran was still standing on the stairs watching them. “I’ll try not to drive you mad.”

  “I know you believe talking to Theryn yourself is vital to the success of this trip, but if this is going to be too much, I honestly can do this alone,” she said, quickly double checking over the items secured to her saddle.

  Feeling his fear gnawing deeper, Garhan tightened his grip around the reins of his horse and started for the gate. He knew if they didn’t get beyond the castle’s walls before he gave it anymore thought, he would never leave.

  Mari was taken by surprise by his abrupt departure and signaled her horse forward. “…or not.”

  Keiran stood there until they disappeared from view, impressed that Garhan had made it out of the castle. He began to turn away, but something caught his eye, the back of his neck tingling and adrenaline coursing into his veins.

  A raven came gliding through the open gates, sweeping around the courtyard in a slow arc.

  The Tordanian king tensed his jaw and narrowed his eyes, doing his best to sweep out with his senses, but he didn’t need to. While the bird looked absolutely normal, he knew better.

  The raven only gave one languid beat of its broad wings before coming to rest next to where Keiran stood.

  He had the urge to kick the bird as far into the courtyard as he could, but he held back from doing so. While he certainly felt Athan’s presence, when the bird tipped its head to look up at him, it possessed a raven’s ordinary slate-gray eyes.

  “Sorry for the thought,” Keiran said down to the creature.

  The bird gave a guttural cackle and strutted a few paces before snagging a discarded crust of bread and flying away.

  He shook his head and felt his attention pulled back toward the gate. A swirling black mist began to solidify beyond it, the sounds of horses’ hooves on the cobbled road leading to the castle coming out of nowhere.

  Keiran jogged down the stairs into the courtyard, watching in fascination as the mist began to take shape. A black carriage pulled by six massive ebony horses materialized, the animals and vehicle becoming solid.

  The carriage charged right into the courtyard, the guards at the gate unable to do anything to stop it by the time it was noticed.

  It came to a halt, no driver present, nor the horses’ bridles attached to any reins. The door opened on the side of the ornate carriage, and Athan emerged, stepping slowly out, glancing around the courtyard.

  While Keiran felt his usual reservations about coming face to face with the other vampire, there was a degree of fascination with Athan’s ability to perform such acts.

  He went closer, daring to reach out a hand to touch the neck of one of the lead horses. Where he expected to touch a warm animal, the horse was cold. Though the texture of the beast’s fur was right, there was something off about the feel of muscle that should have been beneath.

  Athan strolled over, the carriage door closing of its own accord behind him. “As I’ve said before, it’s all merely show for the sake of the others.”

  Keiran dropped his hand away from the phantom animal, turning his sights to Athan. “Why are you here? We have no business.”

  The elder vampire tipped his head forward as a bevy of guards appeared, encircling them. “Call them off. You know there is nothing they can do to me.”

  Keiran glanced over, seeing Kanan and giving him a small nod.

  The old man sheathed his sword and motioned for the others to do the same. He locked gazes with Keiran again and pointed toward the guard shack.

  The king gave a small gesture of acknowledgement, letting Kanan know he was fine for the time being.

  As the guards retreated, Athan pursed his lips. The horses and carriage dissipated back into a black mist that fell to the ground before fading from sight. There were gasps from those in the courtyard at such a blatant display of magic.

  Keiran tensed his jaw and took a step toward Athan. “If you’re done frightening my people, can we get on with whatever it is you want?”

  Athan fussed with the cuff of one of his sleeves for a moment, canting his head to the side. “A little hospitality would go a long way, boy.”

  “At this point, I’m certain it comes as no surprise to you that I have quite a bit to deal with. As much as I adore our visits, Athan, I simply don’t have the patience or time right now,” Keiran replied.

  Athan’s lips parted and he raised his brows, lower eyelids coming up halfway. “As charming as ever, I see. However, I will agree you have a mess down there. I see they’ve brought in that old hag Thinliss to lead that thing you Tordanians call a religion. That, I’m certain, has you quite excited. There’s something about her that I can’t quite pin down. I think I almost like her for some reason...”

  Keiran looked to the side and frowned. “You didn’t come here to discuss the inner workings of our church.”

  The left corner of the elder vampire’s mouth ticked upward, seeing he’d struck a nerve. “No, of course not. I couldn’t care less about the menial issues going on there. No, not at all. I’m here because I’m looking for a few things. Now, I know you obviously have one of them, so we’ll start there. Where is the sword?”

  Keiran’s attention snapped back toward Athan, his expression going slack has he cleared his mind, hiding any clues about the weapon’
s location from him. “You know I won’t give you that.”

  “Well,” Athan said, dropping his gaze to the ground, “you can either give it up willingly, or I’ll find it on my own. If I have to go to the trouble, you must know there will be consequences.”

  He took a long breath and remained silent, pushing back his ingrained compulsion to get angry with Athan. Keiran knew getting riled up would only entertain the other vampire.

  Again, Athan gave a fleeting smile. Keiran was able to hide his thoughts now, and dealing with him was more challenging. “Very well, let’s move onto the next issue. I’m not sure what took place while you and Kayla had Baden in your custody, but I know it had to be of some significance. The boy went missing shortly after we returned home. As his father, you can understand my concern…”

  Having validation that Baden had gone rogue piqued Keiran’s interest. He locked gazes with Athan, searching for any sign of deception. “Missing? Did he run away from home? Run away from you? That’s hard to imagine.”

  “This isn’t a trivial matter,” Athan replied, irritation beginning to seethe under his façade. “I shouldn’t need to tell you how very dangerous this situation could be. He has extraordinary power for his age. Who knows what havoc he may cause if allowed to run amok? You may not care for me or my methods, but you have to admit I’ve done quite a bit to keep others of our kind from getting out of hand over the past several years. Baden isn’t stable. If, by chance, he went north with his mother, he will starve. The Nahli aren’t human, and they cannot sustain him.”

  “You keep our kind under control, is it? Is that what happened in Aleria in the not-so-distant past?” Keiran countered. “Seems as though that was a mess.”

  Athan’s jaw tensed several times, and he licked his lips. “You are testing my patience. Have you seen him or not?”

  Keiran’s intrigue deepened, and he took a step closer. He pushed back against Athan’s prying thoughts. “…you truly have no clue where he’s gone? Your precious seer can’t tell you?”

 

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