“I apologize, and you know I cannot swim.” Garhan looked down at her. “Though, being ornery is better than being terrified constantly, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know, I think I liked you scared better,” she replied. Mari lifted a hand and pointed toward one of the buildings. “Looks like a pub. Probably our best bet for getting information. Let’s go.”
* * *
Dassion sat alone, leaning back against the wall with his hands laced over his stomach. The platter on the table before him had been cleared, only the bones of a fish left behind. He considered lying down on the bench and having a nap after his large meal, but with people approaching his table, he held off.
Mari and Garhan came to a stop not too far away, looking him over.
“Red hair, just like Jerris,” Garhan said, glancing down at Mari. “There aren’t that many around.”
The name immediately sparked Dassion’s interest. “Jerris? The one that hangs around with the king?”
Garhan sat down across from the man. “The very same.”
“What’s all this about, then?” the captain asked, sitting up and leaning forward onto the table.
Mari landed beside Garhan and pulled the letter out of her bag. “How have you been, Captain?”
He lit up with recognition upon hearing her voice as his grogginess began to lift. “Ah! Courier Mari! I’ve been fine, just fine. And you? What is all this about, then? Two Alerians coming to have a chat with me isn’t too common around here, is it?”
Mari and Garhan both went still, surprised to be called out on their nationality so easily. It had been a rare occurrence in Tordania.
Dassion snorted. “Oh, come on, then! I pegged you for Alerian right off the bat last time, Mari! With that fancy accent and all! You don’t blend in so well, do you?”
Mari smiled and shook her head while holding the letter forward. “I suppose we don’t, and you are absolutely correct. We have something to ask of you.”
He gave her a sidelong look and glanced at the man with her before reaching out to take the letter she extended across the table. “Ask of me? What is this?”
“A request from the king himself,” Garhan said.
Dassion squinted and unfolded the letter, reading it over quickly. His eyes widened and he looked up at the two again. “This is serious, is it?”
“I’ve come a bit too far just to play a joke on a man I don’t know,” Garhan said, resting his elbows on the table.
Dassion inspected Garhan a little more closely, his instincts sending up faint alarms. He turned back to Mari. “Who is this, then?”
Mari smiled. “This is Duke Garhan Aviatrov.”
The captain leaned back and narrowed his eyes, turning his attention to the man. “Aviatrov? Alerian royalty? You… eh, don’t take this the wrong way, all right? No, not saying this to offend, I know how Alerians are about these things, but after what I went through in the not so distant past, I have to ask this right off at the start. You know, past troubles and all, though I suppose our king did something to allay those worries, didn’t he?”
Garhan tipped his head forward, trying to follow Dassion’s wandering train of thought. “If you need to know whether or not I’m a vampire, Captain, I won’t lie about the fact at all.”
Dassion looked away and let out a groan. “Well, I told Keir, he said I could call him that, you know, I said I’d help him if he ever needed, didn’t I? This isn’t going to involve two or three more people showing up unannounced when we go to depart though, is it? I didn’t much care for that last time, not one bit! Though, the lady was very lovely, wasn’t she? Not saying that you aren’t a delight, too, Mari. No, I wouldn’t mind having you aboard for a while. I wasn’t having a nice time when we last met, but your company didn’t hurt. No it did not!”
Garhan cleared his throat. “We are married, Captain.”
Dassion’s cheeks flamed up red. “Well, you are a lucky man, aren’t you?”
Mari stared at Dassion wanting to get him back on track. She nudged Garhan with an elbow. “Yes, I suppose Kayla is lovely, but it will just be the two of us. So, will you agree to help us get to Aleria?”
The redhead squirmed where he sat. “I told him I’d be able to assist him whenever needed, and I’m a man of my word, aren’t I? Not many around who can say that truthfully, are there? Aleria, though? I suppose passage there would be easier than going north. Sea’s still frozen, you know. Damned mess this winter was, wasn’t it?”
Mari and Garhan looked at one another, realizing Dassion was going to have a full-blown conversation without their help while he decided.
“Well, I suppose it’s my duty as Keir’s friend to help out. I wouldn’t do this for just anyone, though, you know? Mine isn’t a passenger ship. If it was good enough for our dear king, however, I suppose that counts for something, right?” Dassion turned the letter around toward them, pointing at the last line Keiran had written. “It does mention here about a few ounces of gold though, doesn’t it?”
* * *
Magretha sat at the house’s small table, spinning one of Jerris’ abandoned bottles on the table before her. Worry ripped through her gut, her eyes red from crying. It had been days since Jerris had vanished. Though he’d left her a note, she was illiterate. Being terrified of what it would say, she hadn’t reached out for help right away.
She sat, staring at the meaningless words. Jerris’ handwriting was strangely beautiful, a product of him sitting with Keiran while the young prince had received his lessons. While Jerris often feigned illiteracy, it was far from the truth.
Nothing had gone right since she’d miscarried. So much misery and grief had struck everyone around her that she didn’t know where to turn. Magretha knew she couldn’t put it off any longer and she got up from the table, grabbed the note, and headed out the door.
The stench of death over Tordan Lea had given way over the previous week to the acrid reek of funeral pyres. She walked toward the cathedral, the air thick with noxious smoke.
The town’s square was no longer lined with the coffins of the dead. Instead, it was strewn with ash and the smoldering remnants of those already burned. The crowds were smaller now that most had been committed to flame. Several members of the clergy were out, carefully sweeping up piles of ash and bone and scooping them into ossuary boxes.
One tall woman stood on the stairs to the cathedral, surveying the activities, and Magretha cautiously approached her.
Mother Thinliss looked down at the heavyset peasant approaching her, wondering how anyone could have gone through this past winter without being much more than skin and bones. “Are you in need, my child?”
Magretha halted a step below her, offering a small bow of respect before holding out her note with a trembling hand. “Mother, my husband left this for me the other day, but I’m unable to read it. Please, can you help?”
Thinliss reached out slowly, gently taking the note from her. She looked over the writing, immediately struck by the penmanship. This hadn’t been written by a barely-literate poor man, but someone who’d been extensively coached in writing. The shape of the letters and the careful angle of the quill he’d maintained gave the script the fluidity of a scribe or member of the court.
Magretha shifted her weight back and forth, anxious.
“This wasn’t written by a peasant,” she said, looking down at Magretha, “but you say it was left by your husband?”
Magretha felt her cheeks burn red. Though she and Jerris certainly had the money for her to afford finer clothes, she’d never felt the need to get them as her work was often dirty. “He… my husband was the son of the King’s Knight. I mean, he…he was the King’s Knight himself until recently.”
A thin brow arched upward, Adreth’s eyes lowering back to the paper. “Was the King’s Knight? Why, how very interesting…”
“The note, Mother, please, I must know what it says,” Magretha begged, clasping her hands together before her chest.
W
ith her interest piqued, Thinliss began to read the note aloud.
Beloved Magretha,
I must leave for a while. I know this comes at a wretched time following the loss of our child and the murder of my father, but my reasons are just. Corina came to me while you were gone and told me there was an illness she had contracted after treating Keiran’s wounds. Sadly, I seem to have contracted the same ailment. Magretha, I’m terrified to expose you to this illness and I cannot put you at further risk.
I will only be gone until the symptoms have abated, and it is with great reluctance that I leave you alone during such a time as this. I beg you not to return to the castle during my absence as I fear the worst has not yet happened.
With all my love,
Sir Jerris Aaron Steiner
Magretha was relieved to hear he hadn’t departed through any fault of her own, but this mysterious illness gave her a whole new set of worries. “Thank you, Mother.”
Adreth passed the note back to Magretha, her mind racing from what she’d just read. “Jerris? The King’s Knight? Son of Sir Kanan Steiner?”
“Aye, Mother,” Magretha replied, taking the note back.
“Murdered by whom?” she asked.
“Lord Athan Vercilla, I regret to say. He arrived and killed Kanan and nearly killed our king, too. He was terribly wounded,” Magretha said, hanging her head.
“Strange, I’ve received no word of this. Old Kanan gone, imagine that. He must have been up there in years. Such a tragedy.” Adreth folded her lithe arms over her chest and turned her gaze toward the castle on the hill. “As head of the church, I would hope to be kept informed of such things.”
Magretha hadn’t realized who the woman was, and she gave a deeper bow. The way Jerris had described Adreth Thinliss, she’d honestly expected some horrific monster, not this brittle looking woman. “Mother Thinliss, my apologies for not realizing it was you!”
“I’m new here. I wouldn’t expect to be recognized, child.” Thinliss forced up a smile. “Your letter has given me some insight that I didn’t have before, so I should greatly thank you for coming to me with it.”
Something struck Magretha in the hollow tone of Mother Thinliss’ words and she retreated down a step, tucking the note away. “Thank you, Mother, for helping me. I will leave you in peace.”
Thinliss quirked another smile that failed to reflect in her eyes, as Magretha bowed one more time before retreating. Once the other woman was gone, Thinliss stared up at the castle again. “Murder, the King’s Knight resigning, a mysterious illness, a child’s death, and you nearly killed by Lord Vercilla, dear Keiran? Still, someone thinks the worst is yet to happen? To think you stood here and told me you would have no part in evil—yet it seems to follow you, doesn’t it?”
* * *
“We’ve lost them, for now,” Etras said, peering through the empty window frame of the abandoned cabin they’d entered.
Betram slumped against the wall, his hands clutched over the center of his chest. He gasped for breath, feeling like his heart would explode. “Good, I don’t think I can move again for a while, my friend.”
“Rest, rest.” Etras motioned for Betram to sit down as he did the same on the dirt floor. “I didn’t think they’d dare follow us all the way into Tordania.”
Though horses would have greatly helped them, since their panicked flight from Etras’ home, they’d not gotten the opportunity to get any. They’d hidden during the day and traveled by foot at night, occasionally catching rides on wagons. Still, they’d done their best to be invisible, afraid that Danier’s men would find them. Their pursuers had gotten close a few times, but the two fleeing men had been fortunate enough to always spot the bounty hunters before they were seen.
The old man eased down and sat. “We are only barely into Tordania, however. At least it isn’t Danier himself. I counted only two, now. I swear there were three of them earlier.”
“The other one most likely turned back to report to his master,” Etras replied, “but I merely speculate.”
“How far are we from King Sipesh?” Betram asked.
Etras shook his head and motioned with a hand. “From here, normally a few days ride through the mountains we sit beside. Even just a day before I found you, however, I received reports that the passes were still choked up with snow. I dare not head further north until we know the way is clear, and we will need horses.”
Snow was a mystery to Betram, he’d never experienced it before. The white peaks they’d been approaching for the last several days fascinated him, though he was generally preoccupied by their pursuers. “You are the guide, Etras. I will trust your judgment. I know nothing of such matters.”
The younger man offered the emperor a smile. “We will reach the Tordanian. Luck has been on our side thus far, yes?”
While Betram certainly hadn’t felt particularly lucky, they were still alive and had managed to repeatedly evade Danier’s men. “Perhaps the gods will take mercy upon us, yet.”
* * *
Sabetha perched on top of the outer wall of Athan’s fortress, surrounded by several of the ravens that lived in the building’s towers. The sentries had tried to shoo her down, but a quick, deafening shriek had gotten them to give up. Without Athan there to tell her otherwise, she did as she pleased.
Her large eyes scanned the scenery, though it wasn’t the world before her she studied. The harpy already knew Athan had gotten the sword from Keiran, and he’d only missed Baden’s presence in Tordania by a narrow margin.
“Miss me?”
She startled and nearly fell off the wall, a strong hand snapping forward and grabbing her left wing, keeping her from plummeting. The nearby ravens all took to the air and scattered.
Baden looked her over as she turned around. “That would have been a nasty fall.”
She bobbed her head, feathers ruffling. “You scared me, Baden!”
He put a finger up to his lips. “Not so loud. We don’t want to ruin the game by letting anyone know I’m here.”
“I knew you were coming this way, but I didn’t think you would show up!” She hopped from the wall to stand on the walkway before him, pressing the top of her head against his chest. “Missed you.”
Baden gave her a good scratch under her down-like silver hair, where he supposed her ears would be. Startling the seer wasn’t something he’d managed to do often. “I’ve missed you, too. Athan hasn’t found me so far. You’ve been doing a good job.”
She craned her neck and looked up at him before slowly rising to her full height to stare down at him. “Do I get a prize? You said I would.”
“Indeed I did, and I have something for you. A few things, actually,” he said, lifting up a small bag before them. “Candy, Sabetha, and some pretties.”
Her clawed fingers outstretched and she eagerly took the bag before turning away from him and opening it. She peered within before reaching in and pulling out a hard candy. Sabetha tossed it upward before deftly plucking it from the air as it started to fall. Her beak made quick work of crunching into it, crumbs falling away as it shattered while she chewed.
Baden moved around beside her to watch as she repeated the same action three more times. “Good?”
She snaked her head toward him, the last piece cracking in her mouth. “Very.”
“Good, now, there’s a few bits of glass in the bottom of the bag, don’t eat those,” he said, patting her shoulder.
“Blue ones?” she asked.
“Of course. It is your favorite, isn’t it?” Baden gave her a smile, amused with her fascination with broken glass. She had a considerable pile of shards in the corner of her room that she would sit and pick through for hours at a time.
Sabetha’s inner eyelids crept up halfway, and she leaned toward Baden. “The game… it still goes on? I like keeping things from Athan. I feel important.”
Baden gave her a nod. “The game goes on. I just thought I’d take the chance of seeing you while he was away, so I could
give you your first prize.”
“He went to Tordania just after you left there,” she said in a whisper.
“What did he do?”
Sabetha looked around, ensuring no one else was close. “He took the sword Keiran had. He killed the old guard and…”
Baden watched as she pretended to slash out with a sword toward his abdomen.
Sabetha let her hand fall back to her side. “Cut Keiran. Like that. Very sick, very sick since then.”
“Keiran has been sick?” he asked, clarifying.
She nodded.
He turned to look over the wall, shaking his head. “The old guard he killed, this was Jerris’ father?”
She gave a single click of her beak. “Then, Jerris ran away. Gone, gone.”
“Damn,” he sighed and rested his hands on the wall’s edge. “I knew my father would go after that sword, though. It was too tempting. What will Keiran do without it? For that matter, what will he do without Jerris? They seemed rather close.”
“Jerris is just hiding. Not gone forever, no. I know where he is, though.” She moved to stand right next to him, draping a wing around his shoulders. “Are you saddened by this?”
He drew a long breath. “Inevitable things are…well, inevitable. Keiran’s ambitions might be a little grandiose. I may have to help him a bit more. Did you see if Thana got the hand Vinson made?”
“Yes, she wears it. Two hands again.” Sabetha outstretched her neck and rested her chin on top of Baden’s head. “Very fancy, Vinson’s metal creations.”
“He’s quite gifted,” Baden agreed. “How far away is my father from coming home?”
“Went into the Sador Empire again,” she said. “Athan is restless. Trying to fill his time while the ice ship is built. So anxious.”
It wasn’t often Sabetha came up with insights into the behavior of others, and Baden was impressed. “He has the plans completed? Even without Vinson?”
“Took many, many men to do it, yes. Vinson…too smart. Moving forward.” Sabetha pulled away from him and dug into the bag again, unable to resist checking out the glass pieces she knew it held.
The King's Knight (Royal Blood Book 5) Page 12
