My Lady Mage: A Warriors of the Mist Novel

by Alexis Morgan

  He led a skittish mare out into the night air and handed her off to the nearest pair of hands before charging back into the thickening cloud of smoke. The timbers overhead creaked ominously. Once they gave way, the stable would be a death trap for anyone still inside.

  His lungs struggled to draw air inside the wall of heavy smoke even as the heat burned his skin. Few of the helpers were able or willing to reenter the inferno. He didn’t blame them. Only the screams of terrified horses kept Gideon going back.

  As he grabbed two more animals by their halters, he prayed, Please, gods, be merciful to any left behind.

  Before he could reach the door, one of the overhead joists gave way, falling to the floor in a crash of flames and cinders. A mortal man wouldn’t have been able to hold on to the horses, but Gideon fought them back under control. The way forward was blocked by a wall of flames. He could make it clear on his own, but for Merewen’s sake, he wouldn’t abandon his charges.

  A shout from the back caught his attention. It was Duncan. He held an axe in his hand and was madly chopping a new avenue of escape through a wooden wall. Gideon turned back with the two mares. His friend met him halfway and took charge of them.

  “Have you seen Lady Merewen?” Gideon shouted over the roar of the flames.

  “She was still inside the last time I saw her,” Duncan hollered as he dragged the two mares toward the jagged opening in the wall.

  Gideon raced back into the thick fog of smoke. “I’ll look for her!”

  He felt his way from stall to stall to ensure that neither horses nor their rescuers had been trapped. At the far end was a scene right out of his worst nightmares. Merewen, her face covered in black soot, struggled to calm a mare. Both were trapped on the wrong side of a fallen timber.

  His heart almost burst in his chest, and he choked on the acrid stench of smoke. Merewen would never abandon the hugely pregnant mare, but he had to get her out of there before the entire building buried them all in a grave of burning wood and straw. He should do the merciful thing and put the horse down before the fire grew worse so that he could carry his lady out to safety. Would she understand or forgive his decision to choose her over a horse?

  Duncan ran down the aisle shouting, “Captain, we’ve got to get out of here.”

  He skidded to a halt beside Gideon, assessing the situation with that lightning quick intelligence of his. “I’ll get the axe.”

  Meanwhile, Gideon took a running leap to clear the downed timber to land a short distance from Merewen.

  He had to get right next to her ear to be heard over the deep roar of the fire. “Get out of here while you can. I’ll stay with her.”

  Merewen was shaking her head before he even got the words out. “She’ll panic if I let go. I’m barely holding her under control now.”

  Stubborn woman! He wanted to rail at her for risking her precious life for one horse, even a pregnant one, but she was too locked into her connection with the mare to listen to common sense. He gave up arguing and latched onto the other side of the mare’s halter as the fire crackled and popped all around them.

  Even with their best efforts, the horse was giving in to panic, her eyes rolling wildly as she fought to break free of their grasp. They were wedged in such tight quarters that if the animal reared up or struck out, she could easily trample Merewen without meaning to.

  Gideon stripped off his tunic and used it to cover the mare’s eyes. She calmed slightly but lunged hard to the side when a shower of red hot embers cascaded down from the rafters above. Several hit Gideon’s bare back, blistering his skin. He ignored the pain, concentrating instead on making sure Merewen survived long enough for him to rail at her for placing herself in such danger.

  Duncan returned with Murdoch. Both men wielded their axes with all the power the gods had granted them. The timber was already half-burned through, making their job easier. Once they cut through the heavy beam, Murdoch swung his axe one last time, burying the blade deep in the thickest part of the wood. He dragged the timber back to one side, clearing a very narrow path to safety.

  “Go, Merewen! I’ll bring the mare!”

  She didn’t argue this time, instead stumbling across to where the two warriors waited. She yelped when Murdoch immediately tossed her over his shoulder and ran for the back of the stable. Gideon followed behind, dragging the terrified mare in his wake. When there was enough clearance in the aisle, Duncan took hold of the other side of her halter and threw his own weight in to keeping her moving.

  Merewen was waiting for them as they broke through to clear air. She was bent over, coughing out the black smoke choking her lungs. Gideon pulled his tunic back on after two of the young stable hands took control of the pregnant mare and led her away. Just as they did, there came a loud rumble, and the ground beneath their feet shook with the impact of the stable collapsing in on itself. Sparks and flames shot high up into the night sky, casting everyone’s faces in an unholy glow of red and black.

  The close call had Gideon’s temper looking for a handy target. If Olaf had been in reach, he would have skinned the man alive. In his absence, yelling at Merewen for risking her life would have to do. But before he’d taken one step in her direction, someone else called her name.

  “Lady Merewen, it’s young Edric. He was inside the stable, helping with the horses. Too much smoke, I’m guessing, because he’s…he’s not—”

  It was hard to say whether the man ran out of breath or whether he couldn’t bring himself to say the rest. He staggered toward her, the limp body of the young boy in his arms. Merewen immediately straightened up, her own struggles to draw a full breath obviously forgotten. She met the stable hand halfway.

  “Lay him down,” she ordered as she knelt on the ground beside the too-still body.

  Everyone else stopped what they were doing, their faces painted with soot and stark grief.

  “Edric, stay with us,” Merewen pleaded as she looked around. “I need a knife.”

  Gideon immediately offered his. She used the blade to split the fabric of the boy’s shirt. After setting the knife aside, she laid her hands on Edric’s thin body and started chanting. The words tripped off her tongue in a rough whisper, her throat obviously still fighting the effects of breathing in so much smoke herself.

  He recognized the flow of her magic, although this time desperation swirled in and around the chant. The longer it went on, the less likely her gift would work this time. He moved closer, wanting to help but not sure how. Finally, he simply dropped to one knee beside her, unsure what to do. If the boy didn’t respond soon, Gideon would have to drag Merewen away before she burned herself out completely.

  “My lady,” he started to say, but she shook her head and kept chanting, her voice growing fainter.

  He risked a hand on her shoulder. The connection between them surged hot as his own life force lent its strength to hers. Immediately, her words grew stronger, ringing out clearly in the night air. Her efforts were rewarded when Edric’s chest moved like a bellows as he drew a gasp of air.

  She paused to stare down at her patient, waiting to see if he would draw in a second breath and then a third. Already his lips looked less blue, his skin losing its deathly pallor. Then the coughing started. Merewen snaked her arm under Edric’s neck, lifting him up to help him breathe more easily.

  Through it all, Gideon kept his hand right there on her shoulder, savoring the connection as her magic sang and danced in celebration. He no longer doubted the beauty and the goodness of her power. Magic or not, it was truly a gift from the gods.

  When she gathered the boy into her arms for a hug, Gideon finally moved back, not wanting to intrude further on the moment. After a minute, the boy protested, no doubt embarrassed by all the attention.

  “Edric, don’t scare me like that again,” Merewen ordered as she released him. “Someone take him inside and make sure he gets something warm to drink. Then straight to bed with him.”

  Once she was sure the boy would be ta
ken care of, she slowly rose to her feet and looked around. As soon as she spotted Gideon, she charged toward him and right into his arms.

  He didn’t remember reaching out to her, but suddenly Merewen had burrowed into his chest, hot tears streaking down her face. The last vestiges of his anger drained away as this fierce, foolishly brave woman turned to him for solace.

  His centuries-long life had been filled with endless fighting and violence, leaving him feeling awkward and ill prepared for offering a woman simple comfort. He closed his eyes and stood stock-still as he held her close until she cried herself out. It didn’t take long. Already he could sense Merewen pulling herself back together.

  After a bit, she looked up at him, her brown eyes huge and still sparkling with tears. “I need to check on the horses and to see if any more of my people need medical care.”

  Murdoch spoke up. “So far as I know, only a few others were injured and none seriously in the fire. Lady Alina is seeing to them and those hurt in the fighting. She and the cook have set up inside the hall. With your permission, Captain, I’d like to assist them.”

  Gideon nodded over Merewen’s head. “I’ll help Merewen with the horses. Before you go, confer with Kane to see if he requires additional help guarding the keep. Send one of the dogs to find me if he has need of me.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Murdoch disappeared into the milling crowd. There was nothing to do about the stable except to make sure the fire burned itself out without spreading to any of the other buildings or to the wooden palisade that surrounded Merewen’s home. They couldn’t risk leaving themselves open to an easy attack with so few men left to defend the keep.

  The stable master had already released most of the horses into the small pasture at the back edge of the bailey. The animals huddled together on the far side of the field, calming down now that the immediate danger was over. Merewen hurried to the older man’s side.

  “Are many hurt? Were any lost?”

  Jarod looked up from applying a thick coat of salve on a dark bay’s right shoulder. “I done a rough count, and there be a few unaccounted for. I’m guessing they be the ones that fool Olaf and his brigands stole. Several of the horses got burned, but none too bad. I treated them with this.”

  He held up a jar. Even from where Gideon stood, he could smell the sweet, soothing scent of the salve. Although the horse flinched at the stable master’s touch, the animal didn’t seem to be suffering from the painful-looking injury. No doubt it was one of Merewen’s special remedies.

  She was still talking. “What can I do to help?”

  “Nothing right now, my lady. Tomorrow you’ll likely need to prepare more of the salve, but we got plenty for tonight. The only one that’s worrisome is that last mare you dragged out. I’m afeard this uproar and her injuries will bring on early labor.”

  Merewen nodded. “I’ll stay with her.”

  Enough was enough. Gideon would keep Merewen safe even if was from herself. “Lady Merewen, one of the stable boys can watch over the mare while you rest. Tomorrow will not be an easy day for anyone, and your people will be looking to you to take charge and reassure them that all will be well.”

  He pinned the stable master with a hard look. “Promise her you’ll send the boy to fetch Lady Merewen at the first sign the mare is in trouble.”

  The old man looked from Merewen to Gideon and back again, obviously trying to decide exactly who Gideon was and what gave him the right to give orders.

  “You and your men be the ones what ran off Olaf and his men?”

  Gideon crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes. We’re also the ones who will ensure they will not be allowed to return. Fagan, either, for that matter.”

  The old man gave him a gap-toothed smile. “That be good work, my lad. I’ll have the boy fetch Lady Merewen, but only if she be really needed.”

  Gideon fought not to grin at being called a lad by a man who was centuries younger, but it lightened his heart.

  “Thank you, sir,” he said as he clapped the stable master gently on the shoulder.

  That Merewen didn’t protest the decisions being made without consulting her spoke to how exhausted she had to be. Even so, she insisted on checking on a few of the horses herself, especially the pregnant mare. When she was satisfied all was under control, she let Gideon lead her back to the gate.

  There in the darkness, away from the chaos of the milling horses and people, he pulled her back into his arms. It was time for some hard truths.

  “You terrify me, woman.”

  She blinked up at him, a questioning expression on her sweet, soot-streaked face. “I do?”

  He wanted nothing more than to kiss her again, but now wasn’t the time. “Yes, you do. The gods have oft charged me with serving those they deemed worthy of their protection. Never before has that someone had the fierce soul of a warrior. You charge into battles that you have no chance of winning.”

  Letting a little of his fear and anger show, he gripped her upper arms and gave her a small shake. “Did you even stop to think that if you’d died in that stable saving that last horse, you would have endangered all those who look to you for their livelihood and protection?”

  Merewen frowned. “But caring for the horses is my duty.”

  “And the people who depend on you, care about you, count for naught?”

  She flinched as if he’d slapped her. “Of course they count. Everything I do is for their sake. Without the horses, the duke will take back the land and let all of us starve.”

  His point exactly. “All the more reason for you to show common sense when it comes to your own safety. If you continue to take such risks, I will take measures to ensure it doesn’t happen again. Your foolishness comes at too high a cost!”

  She vibrated with temper and the vestiges of fear. “Then, Captain, you would be little better than my uncle! He would keep me prisoner, too.”

  This was getting nowhere. “I am nothing like Fagan, Merewen, and you well know it. I would not curtail your freedom lightly, but I will not risk my friends needlessly. If we fail to keep you safe, the gods will condemn all of us, you included, to wander for eternity, soulless and alone.”

  Her eyes widened in horror. “That cannot be. The gods would never be so cruel or unfair. All you can do is your best. That is all that can be asked of any man—or woman.”

  “Ordinary men may concern themselves with what is fair or not, but I’m not an ordinary man, Merewen. None of the Damned is. I serve the gods as an avatar, even as Scim serves me. Our fates are all twined together for better or worse. I repeat, I will not risk the souls of my friends, not even for you.”

  His words hurt her, but what choice did he have? “We have yet to discern the full extent of what the gods are demanding of us this time. We suspect that regaining control of your home is only the first part of the purpose the gods have decreed.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “What do you mean?”

  “You have felt the evil that roams this land yourself. You’ve sensed its growing presence in your uncle and his men.”

  He didn’t wait for her to admit it. “To make sure that you are safe, we must seek out the source of that evil and stop it before it grows too strong to be contained. We know that it feeds on both innocence and blood. Unless we can contain it and soon, the people of Agathia will live, suffer, and die in darkness for eons to come.

  “I fear greatly for you and your people. We need to find the root of this dark magic.” He let his hands drop back down to his sides. “But I should not have started this discussion tonight when we are both tired. Tomorrow will be soon enough after you are rested.”

  It was far past time to see her safely to her chambers. “Let me confer with Kane briefly, and then I will walk you inside. Will you wait?”

  She nodded, looking sad and weary beyond description. “I’ll be here.”

  Ignoring his own exhaustion, Gideon jogged over to the gate. Kane stepped out of the darkness, startling him.<
br />
  “Damn you—don’t do that.”

  Kane’s teeth gleamed whitely in the darkness. “After all these centuries you should be used to it. But then, I suspect the lady has your thoughts tied up in too many knots to leave you much room for clear thinking.”

  It was no less than the truth. That didn’t mean Gideon wanted to hear it. “Any sign of Olaf and his men?”

  “No. Duncan sent the owl winging after them. He returned but a short time ago. From all appearances, they are riding straight for the capital city, most likely to warn the lady’s uncle that he is no longer welcome here.”

  Gideon had guessed as much. “That should buy us a few days to shore up the defenses.”

  “I have some ideas on the subject, but they can wait until tomorrow. Go. Your lady needs to seek her bed. With Olaf gone, I suspect she’ll sleep more soundly than she has in a long time.”

  Memories of what he’d seen earlier came flooding back along with the need to avenge Merewen’s honor. “The lady has had good reason to fear the night. If we’d arrived even a few minutes later, he would have—”

  Kane’s big hand came down on Gideon’s shoulder. “But we weren’t late. Be content with that for this night. We’ll have our vengeance upon him soon enough.”

  Hob prowled by, stopping only long enough to taste the air around Gideon with a flick of his forked tongue. The beast snorted, clearly not happy with the smoky smell that clung to Gideon’s skin.

  For the first time in hours, Gideon smiled. “If I smell bad enough to offend a gargoyle, perhaps I should delay seeking my bed long enough to bathe.”

  With that, he returned to Merewen. Together they trudged wearily toward the great hall.

  Chapter 17