The older man followed into the room and closed the door behind them. He motioned at the table before going to take a chair for himself.
Keiran landed across from the grand councillor, curious. “Is everything all right?”
There was tension in his posture, and he leaned forward against the table, meeting Keiran’s gaze. “A rather pressing matter. I debated bringing it to your attention for a few days, but my conscience won’t let me be about it.”
“I didn’t imagine you’d bring me in here alone if it was trivial,” Keiran replied, leaning forward as well.
Sygian flashed a pained smile. “An obvious conclusion, I suppose. As I mentioned, I used to play both sides with your father. I’d hoped those days were behind me, but fate sometimes gets different ideas about our destinies.”
The vampire quirked a brow. “If you intend to do so against me, it probably isn’t something you should be bringing up to me directly.”
He gave a single laugh and shook his head. “No, you may be disappointed to hear, but I have no compulsion as of yet to interfere with your leadership. However, I might also say I don’t want someone else to try and do so, either.”
Keiran leaned further forward, placing his hands flat against the table between them. “Meaning?”
“Father Beezle was an exceptional man,” Sygian replied, letting his gaze drift elsewhere. “Quite a man of God in every of his assorted ways.”
“Aye, he was what I think all in the church should aspire to be,” Keiran said.
“Sadly, it is apparent he was also a rare man.” Sygian turned his attention to Keiran again. “The church decidedly did not replace him with an equivalent.”
Keiran slowly leaned back and crossed his arms across his chest. “Mother Thinliss?”
“A trying woman, I’m afraid.”
The king gave a nod, his eyes narrowing. “I know she’s displeased with me, but I’ve given her no legal reason to act against me.”
“She still is compelled to try,” Sygian said.
Keiran leaned forward again, planting his hands on the table again. “Sygian, are you a Church Knight? Did she say something to you?”
“The Church Knights aren’t supposed to give up their identities nor discuss their matters with the king. It is in their laws…or so I’ve heard.” Sygian let his focus wander up into a corner of the room. “However, if the king does not know the one he talks to is a Church Knight then he knows not of discussing their matters with said man.”
The vampire had to roll that statement around in his head for a few seconds before responding. “In such a hypothetical situation, I would surely wonder if the Knights would defy her request, given there was no justifiable reason for her demand.”
“It would be in your best interest if they did not.” Sygian gave a wry smile, once more meeting Keiran’s gaze.
Keiran furrowed his brow, thinking about Kanan. “I would hope someone in the group would have spoken up. I know a recently departed member of the Church Knights would have done so.”
“As would I,” Sygian replied, his smile lingering, a devious glint in his eyes. He wasn’t shocked to learn that Kanan had outed himself at some point to their king.
“Thank God for that,” Keiran said, slouching back into his seat again.
* * *
Garhan stared up at the ceiling, the cool draft coming in from the large windows welcomed against his skin. They’d been staying in the room he’d originally occupied in the Alerian palace before his imprisonment. They’d used the privacy of it to their advantage over the duration of their visit.
He had a lax smile on his lips. “This has all gone well.”
Mari lay with her head perched on his chest and she snorted. “It usually does.”
He laughed and jostled her by the shoulder. “No, I mean this meeting with Theryn.”
“Right, right.” Mari moved around to sit up, smoothing back her tousled hair. “No, I’m very pleased with it. Though, I’m not pleased with the stunt you pulled to convince her, but overall…”
“Would you have given me your blessing if I’d told you what I intended to do beforehand?” he asked.
“Not in the least, but it might not have scared me so badly,” she replied, her shoulders tensing as another bout of pain coursed through her.
Garhan didn’t respond right away. In the copious morning light pouring through the windows, the contours of her bare back were readily evident. He could see the outlines of the ropey structures under her skin, and they were moving.
Mari waited for his inevitable response, turning around to look down at him when he failed to do so. The expression he wore immediately worried her. “Gary?”
He sat up and lightly set a hand on her back, feeling the movement beneath her skin, though it soon stopped. “Did you feel that?”
“Another spasm, why?” she asked, craning her neck to fruitlessly try to look at her own back. “What is it?”
“That was no muscle spasm, Mari,” he said, shaking his head. “Something was moving under your skin.”
The woman quirked a brow at him. “I’ll admit it sometimes feels as though there are snakes or tree roots twisting around my spine, but that’s absurd.”
His blood ran cold. Garhan had never told her what he’d seen Athan do after their escape from Adira, but to hear what she’d said caused his stomach to knot. “Tree roots?”
“It’s laughable, I know.” She started to smile, but when his expression didn’t change, she quit. “Gary, this is nothing new. It’s been going on for the last year. Don’t be so worried.”
He let out a sigh and shook his head. Scaring her would do them no good. Maybe it was all in his head, brought on by the stress of his ordeal, but he didn’t think that was so. “I only worry about you. I apologize. We should get ready to go.”
Mari’s smile returned, and she offered him a kiss before standing up. “You’ve done far better with this trip than I ever hoped to imagine, and you will do even better on the way home.”
His anxiety had been remarkably repressed for the whole of it, and he’d been pleased as well. “As long as we don’t take that damned ship back.”
She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “It will take us longer to get to Tordania by land, but I’m willing to try that direction if you are.”
* * *
The rain simply wasn’t going to stop. He’d remained in Edinau with the Sadoris as long as he could stand it. Jerris had finally relented to Betram’s constant pleas for them to find a way to get to Tordan Lea. He saddled Patrice and headed toward the mountains, giving up on his hope to simply ride a ship from Lodain to the capital.
His Sadori companions rode along behind him on horses they’d purchased earlier, the two additional horses they’d taken from the bounty hunters tagging along and strapped with supplies.
The dirt road was slick and flooded in areas. Jerris was having a bad time of it, his companions doing even worse. Etras and Betram simply weren’t accustomed to riding in the mountains. The increasing elevation began to take a toll on the Sadori horses and riders.
The guard came to a stop near a small washout and turned Patrice around to look back, noticing his companions had fallen behind again. While he felt sorry for them, they had been the ones demanding they take their current path.
Jerris sighed and shifted in the saddle, hearing a noise that pulled his attention up the mountainside to his left. He squinted and cocked his head. The trunks of the trees further up the hill were shifting.
His gaze panned down to the forest floor, the dirt moving as well, having become a muddy liquid instead of solid ground. Jerris turned his eyes back toward the Sadoris and he screamed out, urging his horse forward. “Stop! Don’t come closer! Landslide!”
Betram and Etras reined their horses to a halt and watched helplessly as the entire mountainside ahead began to slough off from the bedrock.
“Come on, old lady!” Jerris begged, seeing and feeling the road they were
on starting to pull away from the section Betram and Etras waited upon.
Patrice’s splattering hoof beats were drowned out by the growing rumble around them, a sense of weightlessness setting up in Jerris’ stomach as they began to plummet with the muddy torrent. A wave overtook them, the weight of the wet dirt ripping Jerris away from his horse.
He did his best to draw in a full breath before being pulled under, terror taking away his rational thoughts. Broken trees and rocks pelted him, and he knew he would either be crushed or smothered before it was over with. The sound was incredible, and he wasn’t sure if he was hearing branches breaking or his own bones.
The mudslide continued down the mountain, rushing toward a creek below. Jerris was blinded, grasping for anything with his hands that he could, but everything was moving along with him, nothing offering a solid hold.
Something struck him in the gut, his downward momentum stopping instantly. The weight of the mud around him relented, and he choked, struggling to draw fresh air into his lungs, grit and dirt within his mouth.
He opened his eyes, seeing the slide continuing on down into the creek a fair distance below, the tree he’d gotten hung up in having spared his life.
But he couldn’t see Patrice.
Jerris writhed and managed to untangle himself from the tree, dropping down onto shaking legs. His entire body felt beaten, and he found it difficult to move properly. Still disoriented, he stumbled forward and braced himself against another tree. He was at the edge of the gully left in the slide’s wake. “Patrice!”
The slide came to a rest below, the air growing silent aside from the sound of the continuing rain. Broken trees jutted up haphazardly, massive boulders stuck throughout the mess. Jerris scaled down the mountainside further, frantic.
He strained his eyes and listened out for any sounds the old horse would have made, but there wasn’t any sign of her. Jerris dropped to his knees, fixed on the sight, screaming out her name several more times.
Betram turned to Etras, holding out one of his hands. “Give me your reins. Go find him! He’s alive!”
The younger man nodded and quickly dismounted. Etras carefully made his way down, hearing the Tordanian’s cries. Jerris was hard to pick out from the rest of the landscape, drenched in mud. When he finally found him, the guard was a panicked mess.
“She’s gone,” Jerris said, shock overtaking him.
“You are lucky to be alive. You should be glad it was only the horse!” Etras said, looking him over.
Jerris flew into a rage and stood up, spinning to face the Sadori. “Only the horse? I’ve had that horse for seventeen years! I know you might not give a damn about your animals, but I do!”
Etras recoiled a step and raised his hands between them. “Jerris, my friend, I do not mean to offend you! Please, please, we must get back up to the road and get you back to Edinau, yes?”
“Why?!” the redhead shouted, body shaking as tears broke loose from his eyes.
“Your arm is broken.”
Jerris blinked and shook his head, the rush of his fury and sadness making his mind swim. “What?”
Etras pointed.
He slowly looked down, seeing his left arm twisting above his elbow, the palm of his hand facing away from his body.
The Sadori watched with raised brows as the guard’s eyes rolled back and he collapsed.
* * *
Saleet only knew Sadori, so listening to the Tordanians around her in Lodain speaking did her little good. However, with the increased trade between their nations, there were a fair amount of Sadoris around, and she could understand them.
She sat in the back of a tavern in the mining town, her eyes fixed on nothing in particular, but she was most certainly paying attention to the group of men sitting to her left.
“I think the younger one must have been his son. How awful it must be to travel with an old man that delusional!” one of the inebriated Sadoris said.
“Well, at least he thinks he’s the emperor and not something embarrassing,” laughed another.
Saleet’s expression didn’t visibly change, but she realized she was holding her breath as she continued to eavesdrop on her neighbors.
“I don’t know, have you ever dealt with someone suffering that level of senility?” the first one asked. “To be going all the way to Tordan Lea with someone that crazy would make for a very long trip.”
“If what he says was even true. From Edinau, they still have a good ways to go,” replied yet another
“Edinau…” Saleet whispered to herself, slowly giving up a smile before she left the building.
* * *
Keiran had lost a considerable amount of weight, making him look more like he had before he’d been transformed. It broke Thana’s heart to watch him as he stood before the balcony doors of their room, shirtless, his eyes fixed out toward the mountains as the sun set.
She moved beside him and rested her head against his shoulder, Zach cradled in her arms. “He’ll come back, Keir.”
He looked down at her, quirking a brow. “Reading minds now, are you?”
Thana straightened up. “You aren’t hard to figure out sometimes.”
Keiran turned toward her, the deep indentation of the sword slash across his abdomen now covered over with scar tissue. A brutal reminder of what he’d endured, his body unable to make it vanish like his other wounds eventually had.
She looked at him and offered a pained smile. “You still believe he ended up in Edinau?”
“Aye,” he replied, reaching out to fluff up his son’s hair. “I can’t explain it well, but I can feel him out there, somewhere. Far away but alive. Something has happened to him, though.”
“He’s hurt?” she asked.
Keiran shook his head and shrugged. “If I was in better shape I might be able to say. It’s just a feeling.”
She had to defer to his greater ability to sense things beyond her understanding. “He will come back. Until then, there is nothing we can do but wait. Will you please come down now to eat? Corina made you a pheasant, just as you like it. It will be cold if you delay any longer, and I’ll end up letting the cat eat it.”
Keiran turned to go find a shirt to pull on. “Aye, if it will appease everyone.”
She managed a smile for him and headed toward the door, knowing he would follow.
They went to the dining hall and sat, the table set with all of the things Keiran liked best.
“Corina has been going to quite some trouble doing this every night,” Keiran said as he settled in. “Even if I had an appetite, this would be beyond reason.”
“You’re wasting away to nothing, Keir,” Thana said honestly. “Maybe it takes decades for your kind to starve to death, but it doesn’t take that long for you to look like absolute hell, it turns out.”
He frowned and looked down at his hands, the tendons in the backs of them far more visible than they’d been in recent times.
Corina walked in and stopped beside Keiran. She picked up his plate and began to load it with food, whether he wanted it or not.
He slouched down into his seat, not appreciating being treated like a child.
“Stop,” Corina said, dropping his plate in front of him. “No more sulking. You’ve gone on with this long enough. You are a grown man, now act like it.”
He raised his brows and looked up at her. “Corina, I’m not—”
The old woman clenched her fists at her sides, a rare anger rising up within her. “You aren’t the only one who lost something! The rest of us can go on living! Why do you think your misery is so special beyond what the rest of us have endured?”
Keiran’s eyes widened, and he looked over at Thana, but she avoided his gaze, unwilling to rescue him from the situation.
Corina tossed the serving spoon still clutched in her right hand onto the table. “People come into our lives, Keir, and then they leave again. It has always been that way, it will always be that way. I’ve known Kanan longer than you ha
ve even been alive! He was as close to me for the last twenty years as Jerris was to you! Yet, I go on! I still work!”
He reached out meekly and picked up a piece of the pheasant meat and shoved it into his mouth.
Corina took a trembling breath and placed her hand against the center of her chest. There was a fluttering pain within, and she knew she needed to calm down before it worsened again.
“Are…are you all right?” Keiran asked, mouth full.
She gave a hasty nod. “Being old isn’t an illness.”
Keiran got up and placed a hand on her shoulder, feeling a strong mix of emotions from the old woman he simply wasn’t accustomed to. Senses dulled or not, it cut right through him.
Corina abruptly turned and threw her arms around him in return, tears breaking loose. “Everything is always taken away…”
He felt a frantic sadness and confusion wash over him, his eyes panning back toward Thana.
The younger woman rose up as well and moved around to the others. She placed Zach on her right hip, and draped her left arm around Corina’s shoulders as Keiran continued to hold her. “Corina, you’ve been pushing yourself too hard.”
Corina’s shoulders heaved, her face pressed against Keiran’s chest. “Kanan is gone, Jerris is missing, and I’m afraid I’m going to lose you, too! Every time I try to stop, it all crushes in on me. I don’t know how much longer I can go through this…”
Keiran kissed Corina’s cheek, tightening his hold around her. “I’m not going anywhere. I am getting better. It really hasn’t been that long, and I know Jerris is out there, alive.”
“The castle seems so empty.” Corina straightened up and pulled back, wiping her eyes.
“Corina, Keir and I both have been worried about you,” Thana said, keeping a hand on her shoulder. “You haven’t taken any time for yourself to mourn.”
“I don’t want to be alone,” she whimpered. “Being idle makes all the pain come up.”
Thana rubbed Corina’s back and met Keiran’s gaze. “The both of you sit down and relax. Eat with us, Corina. Stay with us all you like, but no work for a while. You need to rest.”
The King's Knight (Royal Blood Book 5) Page 19
