It troubled him that he had slept through the sorcerer’s visit. His senses were usually much sharper than that, especially where magic was concerned. There was little he could do but be on his guard. Tavantis would strike hard and fast; there would be no warning. If his brother came for him, this time he would see his twin dead. He had no other choice.
Katrina had questioned him about the man Tiresias had spoken with. Kian had told her he thought he knew who it might be, but he offered no more information than that. There was no sense worrying her just yet and he didn’t want to share what his brother had become.
The temperature had dropped below freezing as the pair traveled across Trimenia’s dreary terrain. Winter’s icy breath had filled the ground with frost, and the ground had grown hard as stone. Katrina had assured him that Vladimir and the others couldn’t be more than a few days away somewhere south of Brova.
He wished the auburn-haired rebel wasn’t with him. She slowed him down. He could travel on foot much faster than any human. It would have been better if they had horses, at least then he wouldn’t have had to move so slowly. The pace he set was demanding, but the stubborn rebel gritted her teeth and stayed at his side.
At night, they stopped so Katrina could rest, though he would not let her make a fire. She silently agreed, pulling the wool cloak Halina had given her tighter around her shoulders without complaint. Kian could tell she suffered a great deal when the sun went down each night, though she never protested his decision about the fire. Though the weather was uncomfortable, it bothered him little. He had endured far colder air than Trimenia’s early winter offered.
As they traveled, Kian grew to respect Katrina’s determination. At first he had thought the woman’s abundant zeal to rescue the prisoners was born from her feelings for Vladimir, but in the time he spent with her, the swordsman found it wasn’t love for the handsome Trimenian that drove her on, but devotion to the rebellion. Katrina would die before she permitted Serban to rule her homeland and he admired her for that.
It was easy to see her opinion of him had changed since they first met. Katrina had spoken little as they trekked through the land. The quiet didn’t bother him at all. What had happened in Brova might have frightened her a little. Katrina was strong-willed and a proud woman, so she would never admit she was afraid of him. Kian didn’t hold it against her; most were wary when he was around. He had gotten use to people’s misgivings. Even those he called friend.
They saw no one the first two days, only lonely farms house sealed up against the cold. Afterwards, they had hidden on three separate occasions as patrols of soldiers rode past headed back toward Brova.
On the morning of the fifth day, they caught sight of the mercenary company and their wagon of prisoners. The company moved slowly as the large wagon bounced along, hindering their speed.
“My God, Kian, there is six or seven hundred men down there. I can’t make out their standard, but it doesn’t matter. They’re Serban’s men.”
“I can make it out,” he said, the corner of his mouth turning up. “It is K’xarr and the Sons, Katrina, and they are friends of mine. Endra, my daughters’ mother, is down there.”
“God is smiling on us then. Perhaps they will let Vladimir and the others go once you explain to them what is what.”
The half-smile faded from Kian’s face. “I wouldn’t count on that. I know their captain well; there will be an argument before K’xarr lets anyone go.
“By the gods, does he ever travel with ugly women?” Endra heard K’xarr call out.
“I think that’s your Slayer,” Ashlyn said, slapping her arm.
She pulled her horse to a stop along with the rest of the company. Endra’s heart raced when she caught sight of Kian walking down the dirt track towards them. Her wait was over; Kian had returned.
At his side, a tall redhead sauntered along with a longsword swinging from her hip. A sliver of jealousy touched her as she slid from her saddle; she headed to him, her even-paced walk quickly turned into a jog. A shout went up from some of the mercenaries when she threw herself into his arms.
“I have missed you,” she whispered in his ear.
He gave her a strange look and kissed her softly on the lips. “As I have you. I have much to tell.”
His voice carried a somber tone, and Endra knew that didn’t bode well. If something troubled Kian, it would most likely trouble all of them as well.
“You appear at the strangest times.” K’xarr chuckled as he hopped down from his horse. Moving towards Kian, he took the swordsman’s arm in a warrior’s grip. “But it is good to see you, my friend.”
Cromwell barreled into their midst. “Arradar, finally you return. How are you, my brother?”
Endra smiled at the big warrior’s giddiness. Kian’s arrival would put an end to Cromwell’s melancholy.
Rufio, Ashlyn, and many others greeted her lover. It was clear Kian was overwhelmed by their delight at his return.
“Who is the beauty?” K’xarr asked, pointing to the redhead.
“This is Katrina, a friend. Before I explain why she is here, I must tell you what has happened.”
Kian’s dire mood quieted the unexpected reunion. It was not hard to tell from his expression that something was amiss.
Kian’s golden eyes swept the crowd of men that surrounded him. Endra could see a hurt in his eyes and braced herself for his tale.
“I had no idea the Sons were in Trimenia. I was in Brova tending to other matters when I heard the inquisition was going to burn some innocents. I made plans to stop it, and Katrina here volunteered to help. She and I and some of her associates attacked the church’s proceedings. I didn’t know it was Morgana and the children they planned to burn till the battle was joined.”
It felt as if her heart stopped. Endra grabbed Ashlyn’s arm and squeezed. “They…live, you saved them?” she stammered.
“The children are safe,” Kian said, his head dropping.
“What of Morgana?” Cromwell asked.
“I could not save her, brother,” Kian said, his voice filled with regret.
The Toran hammered his fist into the swordsman’s face, the blow knocking Kian off his feet. Shoving his way out of the circle of mercenaries, Cromwell stalked from the area.
K’xarr reached down and pulled Kian to his feet. Shaking back his hair, Kian wiped the trickle of black blood from his mouth. “I did all I could,” the swordsman whispered.
“Do you know what happened?” K’xarr asked.
“Morgana said she and the children were taken from this Serban’s castle. There was one of the Blessed present, K’xarr. He and the archbishop of Trimenia, they are the ones that stole into the baron’s fortress and took them. Morgana died in my arms. She died protecting the children.”
Endra could see that Morgana’s death pained Kian greatly. Cromwell’s love and Rhys’s sister, both men were like brothers to Kian. She could only imagine how he felt.
“You prevented the priests from killing Warstar and Natasha, my friend,” K’xarr said, putting his hand on Kian’s shoulder. “As soon as his rage subsides, Cromwell will realize his twins would be dead without your intervention, and he will understand about Morgana. You bear no accountability for her death. It is the life we have chosen. Death comes swiftly for a warrior, and sometimes for those they love. The Bull knows this as well as anyone.”
Kian nodded, but his eyes were downcast.
“I will halt the company and make camp for the night. We will get an early start tomorrow. There is much to talk about.” Slapping Kian on the back, K’xarr walked away barking orders at his mercenaries.
“We have much to talk about as well,” Endra said, moving to Kian’s side. “Katrina, is it?”
The pretty newcomer nodded. “Aye, Katrina Dobrescu.”
“Katrina Dobrescu, this is Ashlyn Sweet,” Endra said, patting Ashlyn on the shoulder. “She will see you welcome in our camp.”
“Come with me,” Ashlyn said, waving the
redhead to follow her.
Endra led him away from the others. They climbed a small hill overlooking the dirt track. The Sons were busy starting cooking fires and tending to their mounts. The night would be a cold one.
Her anger with her lover had subsided in the past year, and she had ceased to blame him for Vadin. Now Endra wanted nothing more than to return to the way thing had been before they had lost their son. As they sat down on the cold grass, Endra could see that Kian’s eyes were full of questions. This was the moment she had been dreading since she had given birth to Milara’s accursed child.
“I saw the babe, Endra.”
“I knew you must have.”
“It isn’t mine, is it?”
She lowered her head. “No,” she whispered.
He reached over and tenderly raised her chin. “What happened?”
“I have spent all this time trying to forget that day. I don’t know if I can speak of it.”
“Who, Endra?”
“Milara, the child is his.”
She watched his hands clench until his knuckles turned white.
“He will pay in blood for laying hands on you.”
Endra swallowed hard. Her stomach was in knots, but Kian deserved the truth, all of it.
“There is something else you must know. He didn’t rape me Kian, I gave myself to him.”
The furious expression on his face was replaced by one of total confusion. “Why?”
“Benington said if I lay with the lord justice, Vadin would be spared. You were gone and I was in chains; I thought there was nothing else I could do. So I yielded to his lust and let him take me, but they burned our son anyway, Kian. They held me down and made me watch it.” She felt the hot tears of anguish and humiliation roll down her cheeks. “I have dishonored myself and nothing can clean the shame from me. I should have refused them and died with our son that day. At least I would still have my honor.”
He stared into the bleak sky, his golden eyes unblinking. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“How? I could scarcely look into your eyes. I couldn’t tell you I whored myself to our enemies, that I was fool enough to believe they would be merciful. Every time I think of that day, it sickens me. Sometimes, I can still feel Milara’s hands pawing at my skin and his filth on me. Some nights I just wish I could find the courage to fall on my sword and be done with it.” She began to tremble. “I have ruined us Kian. I have ruined myself.”
He jerked her into his arms. She could feel strength and pain in his embrace. “You tried to save Vadin, and there is no shame in that. My love for you is no less now than it ever has been.”
“That is not the end of my evils, my love,” she whispered in his ear. Gently pushing him back, Endra dried her eyes and did her best to compose herself. “Back in Masaria, I forced Rhys to mix a potion that would kill the child, but this damnable blood would not let the concoction drive Milara’s spawn out of me.”
“I remember. Before the battle, you were sick, but why would you try to harm the babe?”
“I didn’t want that man’s seed inside me, nor did I want to raise his wretched child. After I gave birth to it, Morgana took mercy on me. It took all my strength to feed it, but it was she that cared for the thing.”
“It wasn’t the babe that hurt you, it was the lord Justice. It will be he who dies screaming.” His cold rage frightened her. Kian didn’t make idle threats.
“I will end his life, Kian. It must be me. You have to promise me that when the day comes, it will be me that takes his head.”
“I cannot make that promise. On the day I see the Lord Justice again, it will be his last. I will leave for Tyro tonight.”
“You’re not leaving me, not now. Milara and Bennington’s time will come. For now, I just want you with me.”
The swordsman said nothing; he only stared into the fading light. All she could hope for was that Kian would wait to take his revenge.
Not wanting to push the issue, Endra sat silent for a time. Scooting close, she laid her head on Kian’s shoulder.
“Where have you been all this time?” she asked.
“After I returned Ivan to Ascona, I went to Tyro to see if I could lure Bennington or Milara out from behind the walls of Asqutania. I slew knights and killed priests throughout the kingdom. Never was either of them sent out against me. The cowards stayed hidden in the folds of the pope’s robes like frightened children.
“I thought to find a way into the city, but I didn’t even know where to look for the priests, and if I searched Asqutania for them, I would have been killed before I ever found them.”
“I am glad you did do anything so foolish,” she said.
“It was not the fear of death that kept me out of the holy city, Endra; it was the fear I that I would fall before I had vengeance.”
“You were in Tyro all this time?”
“No, I became frustrated and began a new strategy. I set about trying to stop as many of the burnings as I could. The inquisition is everywhere, Endra, and there are more with the blood than I would have believed.”
The Sons had seen what was being done to those who shared her blood, and the ones accused of heresy and blasphemy. In villages they passed through, the remains of the Church’s work were frequently witnessed. Bodies burned, hanged or worse stood as grim monuments to the Holy Father’s inquisition.
“There is little one man can do to stop the pope’s persecution, Kian, even you.”
“I know. I managed to save two girls and then it was only by mere chance. They are both with the children now.”
“Where are the children? You have not said.”
“They are hidden on a farm, being looked after by a kindly old woman and Tempest, one of the young girls I took from the inquisition.”
She nodded. If Kian thought them safe, they were.
“What of the boys and Tressa?” he asked.
“Payton and Vinsant ride with us. Tressa stayed behind in Bandara when we passed through there last year. So did Rhys and Nick Nock, I fear both of them needed to be away from the bloodshed for a time. Though he wouldn’t admit it, Nick still blames himself for Vadin, and Rhys needed time to heal from the wound he received in Masaria.”
“What of Tressa?”
“She has never liked this life, Kian, and I was blind to her feelings. Raygan saw it when we visited the palace. She had never spoken of her hatred for war to me, and I never noticed it, but the queen marked it in a moment. She offered to let Tressa stay in Bandara if she wished. Isabelle took to the idea right away. The queen’s lady said she would look after her for us. I didn’t want to leave her, but Tressa seemed so happy when I suggested she stay in Turill with Raygan that I couldn’t say no.”
“I think some time with the Phoenix will do her good, and Isabella is a fine woman. It will be much better for Tressa than the back of a horse among a band of killers. A mercenary camp is no place for a young lady to grow up.”
Endra hated the fact that it took Raygan to point out her daughter’s misery; she had not even noticed or thought the life might be too hard for her oldest daughter. It seemed even Kian was more aware of the children’s sentiments than she was. Perhaps if things were different, she wouldn’t be such a bad mother.
“Remember when we were traveling to Bandara and we stopped in that dry creek bed with the small grove?”
“It is a day I will not forget,” Kian said.
“I imagined a small farm house, the children playing in front of it, and a life of peace.”
“That is a hard thing to dream of now.”
“Do you ever think we should have ridden away after Bandara, found a place we could be safe, and lived our life free of all this death?” she asked.
“I sometimes envision that very thing, but I was raised to be a warrior, Endra. I have spent more years with a sword in my hand than many humans live. You may not have wished it, but you are a warrior now as well. Could you stand by waving in some peasant dress while your friends ro
de to war without you? There can be no peace for us now, that time has passed.”
She sighed heavily, knowing he was right. “Poor Morgana. She was a good friend. Rhys will be devastated when he learns of her death, he has lost both his sisters. And Cromwell loved her with all his heart, Kian. I know he is Toran, but her loss will be hard for him.”
“I failed him. I wish I could have saved her. Now he blames me for her death.”
“K’xarr is right. His rage will turn from you to those who are truly responsible. Just give it some time.” Grunting, he looked away. She turned his face to hers, kissing him hard on the mouth. “I dreaded your return and the secrets you would find out, but you have lightened my heart, Kian. Something I didn’t think could be done.”
“I love you, Endra Korlest. There is nothing else. If one day I fall and hell swallows me, never forget that.”
They sat on the hill as the cloudy sky darkened. The cook fires filled the air with the aroma of the mercenary’s supper, and the day’s cold wind died down to a chilly breeze.
“Let us slip away. I want you to make love to me,” she said playfully.
“It is bitter cold, you would freeze,” Kian said, his eyes locking on hers.
Endra shook back her raven hair and slid her hand between his legs. “I will manage.”
Kian scooped her up and carried her a good distance from the camp. Spreading out her wool cloak in a low spot near three spruce trees, she pulled him down on top of her and within moments, they had both forgotten all about the cold.
* * *
The mercenaries wouldn’t let her get near enough to their prisoners to speak, so Katrina moved to where she could at least see them through the bars of their cage.
Vladimir and Grigore looked well enough, but Julian had been wounded. The young man’s middle was wrapped with bandages and he looked feverish. Pepca sat chained to the wagon. The little princess appeared haggard and shivered uncontrollably. Teeth chattering, Pepca managed to try and smile at her. Katrina cared little about the girl, though she wished she could give her the cloak she wore. The girl was freezing in this weather.
The Star Of Saree (GODS OF THE FOREVER SEA Book 3) Page 18
