The Wayfarer King

by K. C. May

  When they finished eating, Brodas pulled the books from his satchel and set them on the table. Buried at the bottom of the bag was a small pouch tied with a drawstring he’d found in the farmhouse cellar. “Cirang, since you’re a former Viragon Sister, I’ll give this next task to you. Tomorrow, I want you to bring Rogan Kinshield and his offspring to me. They’ll most likely come with you willingly if they think you’re one of Gavin’s guards.”

  “With his family or alone?”

  “I have no quarrel with his wife, but if it’s easier to get the children by bringing her, then by all means do.”

  She nodded. “They have two skilled guards, though. I doubt I’ll be able to best both at once.”

  He opened the pouch and dipped a finger inside, then extended his finger toward her. “Smell that.”

  She took a whiff and immediately darted her hands out to steady herself. “Whoa. Serragan powder?”

  “That’s right. That small amount is enough to make you sway on your feet. Imagine what a pinch blown into someone’s face will do.”

  Cirang nodded appreciatively. “I’d only heard of it, never smelt it before. Powerful. I’d hate to be on the receiving end.”

  “Don’t use much — only a pinch the size of your small fingernail is enough. Be extra careful. To inhale too close to it before you blow could turn the effect back on yourself.”

  “I wonder if it would keep Red from snoring.”

  He shot her a disapproving glare.

  “I’m jesting. I’m jesting.”

  When he heard the sound of hoofbeats approaching an hour later, he closed the book and set it carefully between his journals inside his satchel. He withdrew a gem from the chest, in case he needed to defend himself. From outside, he heard voices.

  “Here we are,” Cirang said.

  “A bit out o’the way, ain’t it?” said a deep male voice.

  “You have to admit,” Cirang said, “he won’t think to look for you here.”

  “Where’s everyone else — the other Sisters and my brother?”

  Brodas peeked out. A big man with dark hair sat on a brown draft horse.

  “They’re inside. There’s a tunnel in the cellar that leads to a cave. Why don’t you go on inside while I take the horses around back?”

  “Um... How ’bout you go tell Gavin I’m here. I’ll wait.”

  “Yes, m’lord.” Cirang fumbled with something on her hip. “If you wouldn’t mind showing him this when he comes out.” She blew a handful of powder, enough that Brodas saw it hang in the air, into Rogan’s face.

  His reactions were good. He started to turn and heel his mount, but it was no battle horse. It had barely started walking when he slumped in the saddle and wrapped his arms around its neck to hang on. Cirang easily intercepted the horse, grabbed Rogan by the hair and pulled him off. With a hard “Oooof,” he fell to the ground where he lay on his side, grasping his head.

  Cirang dismounted and stood over him with her sword pointed at his gut. “Cooperate and you can save your wife.”

  Brodas approached. “Good work, Cirang. How did you get him away from his guard?”

  She shrugged with a grin. “They were at a bowyer’s shop, and she stepped outside. I hit her with the powder and dragged her into an alley, then tied her horse to a hitch across the street so he wouldn’t notice it was still there. Then I went in and told him Gavin had sent for him, and Nasharla had gone to retrieve his wife and sons.”

  Brodas nodded approvingly. “You do look a good deal like him.”

  “Who are you? Where’s Gavin?” Rogan asked, his speech slurred from the effects of the serragan powder.

  “Gavin’s not invited to our little party. Not yet.” Brodas smiled. “I’m Brodas Ravenkind, descendant of King Ivam Engtury and rightful ruler of Thendylath.”

  “Don’t hurt my wife and sons. Please.”

  “My grievance is with the Kinshields. I’ve no ill will toward your wife, but she did bear more of your name. I made a promise to your brother, after all, and I intend to keep it.”

  Cirang took him by the arm. “Get up,” she told Rogan. He tried to get to his feet, but the powder’s effects made it impossible for him to stand, let alone walk. Brodas took him by the other arm, and together, they half-dragged him into the cottage. They let him fall to the floor. Cirang rolled him over and pushed his legs over the edge of the cellar opening. Rogan fumbled for a handhold and managed to slow his fall with a brief grasp of the floor’s edge. He dropped to the cellar floor and landed on his arse.

  “Gavin ain’t gonna give you what you want,” he said defiantly. His eyes jerked in circles as he attempted to glare at Brodas.

  It occurred to Brodas that Rogan must have thought he’d been captured to use as leverage against his brother. Although Brodas had intended to have Red decapitate the man and deliver the head to the inn, he began to wonder whether offering his brother’s life in exchange for relinquishing the throne and giving Brodas the gems was a better alternative. Gavin was a sentimental lout and would surely do whatever he could to save his beloved family, especially knowing that to refuse would guarantee Rogan’s death as well as his sons’. “Then he’ll watch you and your sons die.” To Cirang he asked, “What did you do with his guard?”

  “She’s in an alley, curled into a ball and puking herself dry. Maybe I used too much powder, but I got a good puff right in her face. How long will it last?”

  “A few hours,” Brodas said, “but I’d rather not have her running to the Elegance Inn to gather her friends. Bring her here.”

  Cirang gave him a doubtful look as though she didn’t think it wise, but she said nothing. She mounted and left Brodas alone with Rogan while she went to retrieve the guard she’d left behind. It wasn’t long before she was back with a semiconscious Viragon Sister draped over her saddle. He helped her carry Nasharla in, and they lowered her into the cellar. When Cirang released her wrists, she crumpled to the ground, partly on Rogan’s still form. He groaned, but otherwise both were silent.

  “It keeps them fairly quiet as well,” Cirang noted. “How convenient.”

  To keep the two from helping each other escape, Brodas locked the cellar hatch with his gargoyle figurine.

  During the next couple of hours, Cirang brought two of Rogan’s sons and put them into the cellar. Despite Rogan’s dizziness, he drew his boys close and tried to comfort them. Perhaps it was a sign the effects of the powder were beginning to diminish.

  “You said he had three sons,” Brodas said.

  Cirang nodded. “The youngest is with his mother. I haven’t seen them part from Dona all day. I should be able to bring the youngest boy next, if I can separate him from his mother’s skirts.”

  “Off you go, then,” Brodas sang, happy that Cirang was so crafty. While she didn’t have Red’s strength or hunger for killing, she had useful skills the big swordsman lacked. No doubt she could talk a starving man out of his last piece of bread. Brodas rose to close the hatch over the cellar.

  “No, please,” a boy wailed. It was the smaller one with curly hair. “It’ll be dark.”

  “Yes, but it’ll be quiet,” Brodas said. “Your endless blubbering is giving me a headache.”

  “I’ll be quiet. I promise.”

  Brodas snorted. “Just like a Kinshield to make promises and not keep them.”

  “My son’s afraid o’the dark,” Rogan said. “I beg your kindness for this one thing. Leave the hatch open. Please.”

  Kindness had its uses as a tool to bind people to him or garner favor. Kindness for its own sake, especially toward people who were going to die anyway, seemed a worthless gesture. Besides, the more he put down there, the more likely they would be to try to help each other escape. He shut the hatch and put his gargoyle lock back on it. Surprisingly, the following hour passed with barely a peep from the people below. He heard their muffled voices from time to time, but it was too infrequent to disturb his study.

  At last, Cirang arrived, escorting a
blue-eyed woman with freckles on her face and Rogan’s third son, a blond boy with the typical Kinshield brown eyes. The woman seemed compliant but alert.

  “Where are my boys?” she asked. “Where’s Rogan?”

  He measured Rogan’s wife with a glance. Despite her freckles, she was an attractive woman. It was a shame she would have to die. “Your husband and sons are in the cellar.” He removed the gargoyle lock from the cellar hatch and lifted it. “Please, won’t you join them? Cirang, refresh the powder on anyone who needs it.”

  With his cellar full of Kinshields, Brodas stood on the front stoop of the cottage, gazing at the charred husks of the neighboring houses as the sinking sun cast a fiery orange glow on their once-white walls. The only sounds aside from the wailing within the cottage were the songs of birds and the gentle rush of wind as it swept down the valley.

  It had been a good day. The setbacks of the last two weeks had been devastating, but they were behind him. Ahead lay success. Ahead lay the throne of Thendylath.

  Chapter 36

  The rest of their journey to Tern progressed smoothly. Without explaining the brand on his arm, Adro chatted about the adventures he’d shared with Gavin. Feanna pondered how much of it was true. He’d already tried to deceive her once about Gavin’s character, though he couldn’t be all rogue. He’d suffered injury and lost his horse protecting her and the children. A true rogue might have tried to take advantage of her guilt or gratitude by requesting a tumble or money or perhaps more. Adro did none of those things. He behaved as a proper gentleman should, despite his continued romantic interest in her.

  Familiar with Tern, Adro knew exactly where to find the Elegance Inn. Feanna let him drive the wagon while she admired the many shops and fine buildings. After about a quarter hour’s travel past the city gate, he stopped the wagon in front of a beautiful three-story building of red brick. It had glazed windows as well as wooden shutters, a sight rare in Saliria but more common in Tern. A Viragon Sister stood outside the closed door, a severe-looking woman with blond hair so short it seemed she must have shaved her head bald a month earlier. Adro climbed down from the wagon and helped Feanna.

  The guard approached. “I’m sorry. The inn is closed to the public. You’ll have to find another.”

  “It’s a Viragon Sister,” Iriel whispered, staring.

  “Oh, dear,” Feanna replied. “I’m here to see someone, actually. He said he was staying here.”

  Behind her, Adro lifted Tansa and Jilly to the ground while Iriel and Trevick got out on their own.

  “Who are you looking for?”

  “Gavin Kinshield. Do you know him?”

  “Forgive me, my lady. He invited you?”

  “That’s right.” Feanna didn’t have to shift to sense the woman’s embarrassment and discomfort.

  “Step inside, please. I’ll have someone see to your horse and wagon.”

  “Could I also request aid for my injured escort?” Though she’d bandaged his wounds and found some licorice root for him to chew to manage the pain, he still needed proper medical care.

  The swordswoman measured Adro with a glance. “We haven’t a healer. I’m sorry. There’s a hospital two streets over if you need tending.”

  “We’ll drive you,” Feanna said, “and I’ll pay for your treatment.”

  Adro waved it off. “You’ve done an admirable job patching me up. I’ll be fine. Might I leave my saddle with your wagon until I get a new horse?”

  “Of course.” Feanna offered Adro her hand. “Thank you for the escort, Adro. Are you sure you won’t take a few coins for a meal or two?”

  He smiled, taking it gently in both hands. “My lady, the pleasure of your company was payment enough. When you’re ready to return to Saliria, look for me at the Foaming Mug tavern in the Emerald district. If I haven’t found another job before then, I’ll be happy to see you safely home.” With her arms extended, Jilly begged silently for a final embrace from Adro, and he squatted to hug her tightly. “You’ll mind Miss Feanna, won’t you?”

  Jilly nodded and waved as she joined her new siblings. Adro set off on foot with his satchel in hand.

  Feanna led the children inside, momentarily blinded by the relative darkness. Once her eyes had adjusted, she scanned the regal great hall whose wooden beams and moldings were beautifully carved and stained a rich brown. Beneath their feet, the slate floor was swept clean and accented by a colorful, woven carpet.

  “Is this a castle?” Tansa asked.

  “No, dunce, it’s an inn,” Iriel said.

  “I ain’t a dunce.”

  “Children, hush now.”

  “One moment, please.” The Viragon Sister strode into the adjoining room. Square dining tables had been pushed against the wall, and unused chairs and stools sat overturned on them. In the center of the room, three tables abutted end to end to create one long table, surrounded by a dozen chairs. A well-dressed man sat at the table, writing. Several stacks of books sat nearby. The battler directed his attention to Feanna and spoke softly. He stood and approached.

  Well-groomed and handsome with light-brown hair and mustache, he had a charming smile and kindly twinkle in his deep-blue eyes. “Good afternoon, my lady,” he said. “I’m Edan Dawnpiper, a long-time friend of Gavin’s.” He had the inflection of a cultured man, perhaps a nobleman.

  “I’m so pleased to meet you,” she said, smiling. “I’m Feanna Vetrin.” She took his extended hand, and he bowed over it. She liked him instantly. Shifting, she could feel his curiosity and warmth and no hint of annoyance at the interruption. She introduced the children, who politely curtsied and bowed. “Our neighbors, Rogan and Liera Kinshield, introduced us to Gavin in Saliria a few days ago, and he told me to seek him here if I needed him. Is he available?”

  “I’m afraid Gavin hasn’t returned yet, but I expect him in a few days. Can you stay and wait for him?”

  “Oh, dear.” Her heart fell. “I was hoping... Have you had word from him by chance?”

  “No, but I didn’t expect any. Is there something I can help you with?”

  “I merely came to make sure he was all right.”

  “Is there a reason he wouldn’t be?”

  “Oh, no,” she said. “Perhaps if I explain. You see, he gave me—” She pulled Gavin’s warrant tag out by its thong from under the neckline of her dress to show him. The sudden rush of emotion she felt when she touched the wood brought a sharp gasp to her lips. The shock of it made her momentarily unsteady on her feet. Gavin. It was him. Gavin was not only safe but feeling excited and hopeful too. Her relief nearly made her knees buckle.

  “My lady?” Edan asked, taking her elbow. “Are you all right?”

  Gavin was safe. “Yes, I’m quite fine now. He’s well, thanks be to Asti-nayas. Gavin’s safe.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  “It will take some time to explain.” She let the tag fall back into its place between her dress and corset. “Might we sit?”

  Edan smiled. “Why don’t you refresh yourselves from the journey, and we can speak after you’ve had time to relax.” He signaled to a Viragon Sister nearby and asked her to instruct the innkeeper to prepare rooms for their new guests.

  She felt the flush of embarrassment warm her face. “I’m afraid we can’t afford to stay in such a grand place as this,” she admitted quietly.

  “Please don’t concern yourself with that,” Edan said. “As our guests, there is no charge for your rooms or meals. Please, allow us to see to your needs.”

  “That’s most generous. Thank you.”

  “Liera and Rogan were here a few days ago, but they’ve gone to visit her relatives. Perhaps they’ll stop by.”

  They chatted about Gavin’s family for a few minutes until a middle-aged man with a thick, black beard bustled into the room, sweating from whatever chore he’d been performing. “Forgive the intrusion. M’lady, your rooms are ready. I’ll bring your bags immediately.”

  Edan bowed gracefull
y. “Please return at your leisure, and we’ll talk further.”

  She ushered the children upstairs after the innkeeper. They had never climbed stairs before. Trevick and Feanna carried the two youngest girls up, while Iriel climbed slowly behind, clutching the wooden railing with both hands. By the time she got to the top, she was trembling, but she refused to admit fear. By the time she’d collected herself, she was bragging to Jilly and Tansa how she’d run up the stairs by herself as adroitly as a mountain goat.

  The rooms were plush and elegant. Feanna and Trevick were given rooms by themselves, and the three girls were put together in the room adjacent to Feanna’s. She started to object, wishing them to stay in her room with her, but they begged to be allowed to stay together alone, promising to behave. Feanna gave them strict instructions to keep their feet off the furniture, no jumping on the bed, and nothing was to be thrown or dropped. “If I hear one peep, that’s it. You’ll be staying with me. Understood?”

  They nodded, grinning broadly.

  “You’ll behave like proper young ladies?”

  “We will,” Tansa and Iriel echoed. Jilly nodded vigorously.

  The two younger girls ran eagerly into their room. Feanna caught Iriel by the blouse and held her back. “I’m counting on you to keep Tansa and Jilly safe and out of trouble. Consider it your first mission as Miss Daia’s page.”

  Iriel’s eyes widened, and a line formed between her eyebrows as she considered these words. “Yes, Miss Feanna. You can count on me.”