Touched By Magic (The King's Wolf Saga)

by Doranna Durgin

  On second look, it did have a bit of a roll in its eye, and its ears did flick a little too rapidly. Reandn double-checked Sky's girth, gave Kacey a look she didn't quite fathom, and mounted, a swift and graceful move.

  The minute he settled into the saddle, the gelding's nose shot into the air. His haunches trembled, his eyes rolled, and with a sudden, peculiar hop-start, he bolted.

  Astonished, Kacey cried out after the pair. She'd thought the ride would do her patient good, but not on a runaway, good Gracious Goddess! She quickly mounted the mare, who seemed delighted at the unexpected entertainment. "Yes, yes, go," Kacey muttered to her, not concerned that the mare cantered off while she was still fussing with the reins. They were partners, she and the little black horse, and knew each other's ways.

  Reandn and his crazed gelding were still out of sight by the time Kacey reached the turn to Little Wisdom. Kacey stopped the mare, considering the winter-ravaged dirt road. She finally found a fresh mark where the gelding's toe had dug into the hard surface.

  She cantered the mare onward and found them soon enough—halted, the bay pawing at the ground and the reins hanging loose. She managed to keep her demeanor neutral until she closed the distance, but then had to laugh at Reandn's expression— such an odd mixture of affection and annoyance. His hand stroking along the horse's neck gave away which emotion was winning. There was even faint amusement lurking in his grey eyes.

  It was, she thought, one of the first times she'd seen it; it overrode the grim lines of habitual pain and worry, he suddenly looked younger than she'd expected. Even the scar on his jaw was nothing next to the grin he flashed her.

  "Sky has his own ideas about how things go between horse and rider," he said.

  "Impressive," she told him. "I like to warm a horse up a little, myself."

  Reandn shrugged, and grinned again. "We have an agreement about that, but sometimes he forgets."

  "Now that you've got him stopped, do we dare try again?"

  "The worst should be over. Besides, we must be halfway there by now."

  She laughed again. "Just about. I bet we can even keep up with you."

  "Let's see," Reandn suggested, and Sky moved out in a more deliberate version of his slightly skewed four-beat rack. The smaller mare leaped to keep up, while the wind caught Kacey's loose trousers and her hair, flushing her cheeks.

  "Don't forget you don't know where you're going!" she called ahead, in case it made him slow a little. It didn't; the bay's black legs flashed through a splash of sunlight in the road and took Reandn out of sight around a curve.

  Kacey leaned forward and clucked to the mare, who took the same curve at top speed—and found the bay's rump suddenly filling her vision. "Reandn!" she gasped in protest, and then suddenly found herself fighting to keep her seat as the irritated mare pulled a series of crow-hops. Only when Kacey had the little horse under control again did she realize why Reandn had stopped so abruptly.

  They weren't alone.

  Men and women on horseback filled the road—at least thirty of them, still settling their horses in the aftermath of their own hasty halt. The woman in the lead stared at Reandn with astonishment and Kacey clamped her mouth shut on her questions—knowing, somehow, that this was not the time to interfere. Quick glances racked up the similarities between Reandn and the woman—and indeed, the entire group. Their vests were cut like his—only with a bright patch on each shoulder, and laced leathers of rank much like the more complicated pattern of holes on Reandn's. Their shirts were white broadcloth with loose sleeves—most of them rolled—and they looked identical to the one she'd washed for him.

  And then Kacey saw Rethia, riding double near the back of the group. Her sister slid down and ran to Kacey's side, offering not a word of explanation, not even a contrite glance. She and Kacey watched, riveted by the tension, as the woman in the lead stared at Reandn, hesitant, her broadly spotted white horse jigging forward ever so slightly. Emotions chased across her face, working from disbelief to hope. Finally, barely audible, she said, "It is you."

  Reandn seemed hardly less astonished to find the woman in his path. "Faline," he said. "What're you—"

  "By Goddess, Danny, I can't believe it. We thought you were dead!" Behind her, horses moved restlessly, and harsh whispers—clearly contentious—mingled with the sound of shifting hooves. Faline gave them all a quick, hard look and called, "Dismount!" as she herself swung down from the flashy pinto. Uncertain, Kacey moved her mare closer as Reandn, too, dismounted.

  "I guess I've been close to dead a couple of times since I last saw you," Reandn said, "but I'm not quite there yet." He nodded at her shoulder laces. "Made Second?"

  She nodded, hesitant, and then resolutely raised her head, turning upwind so the breeze would clear the fine strands of short brown hair from her face. "Ser is First now," she said. "We thought...well, we hoped, but there wasn't much to hope for. Both you and Adela, gone. Just like the others." She straightened suddenly, a hopeful look in her thin face. "Does that mean Dela's—"

  "No," Reandn said, probably more sharply than he'd meant to. "All the others are dead. I just went on an unplanned trip South."

  She didn't bother to hide her confusion. "I don't get it, Dan. Where did you go? Why? Don't you know what it did to Saxe? And that Hound friend of yours still hangs around trying to convince us you're alive, and that you had no part in the—" She broke off abruptly, awkwardly, then said with some exasperation, "I know you're a loner sometimes, but—this!"

  Reandn shook his head, and looked, suddenly, tired. "It's a long story, and none of it was my doing. What's Pack Second doing out here?"

  "That's short and easy," she said. "I'm on my way to Solace. They sent a panic-flagged request for special enforcement. Seems they've had a couple of unusual deaths."

  Reandn's jaw set, a sign Faline seemed to recognize and respect; she didn't push him, but waited quietly. After a moment, he said, "I think you and I are on the same trail, then. Come with me, and I'll give you my side of it—and there are some people you need to talk to."

  His voice held an easy authority that made Kacey wince, and wonder if he'd forgotten what the woman had said. Someone else held Reandn's rank, now.

  But Faline nodded and mounted again; her patrol followed her lead. Kacey took her foot from her stirrup so Rethia could use it and her supportive arm to climb up and sit on the short-backed mare's rump; Sky, thank Goddess, did nothing more than toss his head when Reandn mounted. The entire group rode at a subdued walk; the limited chatter shot between the riders in quick, emphatic bursts of feeling.

  They had opinions about something, it was clear; that they knew better than to express them openly was just as certain. Kacey cast surreptitious glances at Reandn; she suddenly felt she didn't know him at all. There were things happening here, and things not being said, that everyone but her seemed to be aware of. She took comfort in the warm clasp of Rethia's hands at her waist, and the familiar movement of the mare beneath her.

  It was a long walk home.

  ~~~~~

  Faline sat in a modestly padded, straight backed seat; Reandn leaned against the doorway to the great room of Teayo's private house. He'd seen Kacey doing needlework in that chair, her legs curled up beneath, her feet tucked under the old quilt that now hung over the back of the chair.

  But Faline sat in the stiffly in the middle of it, her wiry form leaving plenty of room on either side of her. Her tea sat untasted, perched on her dusty knee; Kacey had brought the kettle and a few fine teacups, and then dragged Rethia off to the back of the house. Outside, the noise of the Wolves' conversation rose and fell, bordering on rowdy. Tanager had offered to help water the horses and from the sound of it, they told some tall tales.

  Faline ignored them. She eyed Farren, her expression patent disbelief; when she glanced at Reandn, it changed to...he wasn't sure what. He was only sure he didn't like it.

  "Just can't believe us, is that it?" Farren said, cutting off Reandn's equally blunt r
eaction.

  "What makes you say that?" Faline said, coolly non-committal. She rotated the mug in a series of tiny circles—tight, controlled movement, typical of the energetic patrol leader, especially when she didn't like what was happening.

  "Your age," Farren told her. "You can't be much older than Reandn. There wasn't much left to magic when you were growing up—certainly not enough to do the sort of thing we're talking about."

  Faline leaned back in the chair. To all appearances she had relaxed, but Reandn knew her better than that. "My inexperience with powerful magic has nothing to do with it. The story you two have put together is simply implausible. When Ronsin left the Keep for Solace, he was a pitiful old man—losing Kavan was hard on him, and losing Adela was the end of it. He gave up on magic and went to see about teaching botany with some of his old associates." She shook her head. "I can't believe he had the strength of will to plan and execute the things you're claiming he's done."

  "He's convincing," Reandn growled. "If not by his magic, how do you suppose I made it to Maurant, stayed there two weeks, and then traveled here, in the space of time I've been gone?" He felt his temper slipping to the edge, but pushed it back. She was facing a situation it had taken him weeks to absorb; it was no wonder she balked.

  Faline looked him square in the eye; her jaw lifted—a touch of contention—though her voice remained even. "I don't know that you have been to Maurant, Dan."

  The room fell silent with sudden, open tension, and then Farren made a disgusted noise, slapping the arm of his wooden rocking chair. Reandn stared at Faline, and felt the anger gathering. "You think I'm lying?"

  "No," Faline said, relief in her face at that honest answer. "But I think you've been through a lot, whatever it was. And I'm not sure what it's done to you."

  "I'll tell you what it's done," Reandn said, igniting the tension as he pushed off the doorway and descended upon her, leaning down to cage her in the circle of his arms, white knuckled hands gripping the sides of her chair.

  The tea slid off her lap and onto the floor in a crunch of delicate pottery, and she flinched at the look on his face. But it didn't last long; she glared back up at him. "It's turned me into someone you don't really know. There are only two sets of rules in this world that matter right now—the ones Ronsin is making up for himself, and the ones I'll live by until I kill him." She shook her head and started to argue, but he cut her off. "I will kill him. I'll kill him for Elyn, Kavan, and two boys I never met. And I'll kill him for Adela. Wolf's Justice."

  She didn't hesitate; her words held an almost physical slap. "And if you do it without proof of his guilt, you'll answer to King's Justice—if I have to take you in myself." They glared at one another a moment, and if she was intimidated by the way he loomed over her, it didn't show. But she was the one who broke away, flicking her gaze down. When she looked up again, her expression changed, and her voice held regret. "Please don't make me do that."

  Reandn gave a short laugh. He said softly, "What makes you think you could?"

  "Please," Farren said. "This is getting us nowhere."

  Reandn didn't move, keeping Faline's gaze trapped with his—two hardened Wolves facing one another down. Once again, she was the first to look away...and this time her light brown eyes did not seek his again. But her voice was unyielding. "I'd hate to have to find I could, Reandn."

  Reandn straightened, stepping away from her, the anger fading into grim understanding—no matter who came out on top, they would all lose.

  But there was more at stake here than his own fate, past or future. He scrubbed his hand through his hair, turned away from her, just as abruptly turned back. "Look into it, Faline," he told her flatly. "You don't have much time."

  Faline didn't answer. She reached for the broken cup and saucer, her face impassive, and piled the shards in a careful stack beside her foot.

  Farren quietly cleared his throat, reminding them both of his presence. "You may indeed doubt us," he told Faline, his expression leaving no doubt of his irritation—not even with his piercing eyes hidden behind the cheesecloth gauze. "You're not sure of your First, and you don't have any reason to trust me. Fine. Take what you've heard and act on it in a manner you find acceptable. Check on Ronsin, ask around. See if those who disappeared weren't at least seen talking to the man. If you've nothing else to go on, why turn away a possible answer? We may be hard to believe, but that doesn't mean we're not right."

  Faline laced her fingers at her lap, regarding the old man steadily. "I never said they'd disappeared. I said they were dead."

  But Reandn caught the note of surprise in her voice. "We're right," he said, certain of it. "That's why the Locals have given up on it. No bodies, no evidence, no way to figure out who's behind it."

  It was her turn to look irritated. "All right," she said. "I'll give you that much, and I'll keep what you've said in mind. But Dan, there's something you should know." She sighed, and rubbed thumb and forefinger across her brows. "Goddess, this is getting complicated. Look, there's been plenty of talk about what happened. When you and Adela disappeared in the same night, on the heels of Elyn, people were of two minds. One version was that you were dead, along with all the others. And then there were people who thought—"

  "Who thought I did it," Reandn said, finishing it for her when she hesitated. "I heard. Or rather, the minor's wife heard from the minor, and after that, it was just a matter of time before everyone else knew, too." Farren made a noise that sounded suspiciously like an amused snort. "I killed all of them, my own wife at the last, hid her body, and made it all the way down to Maurant without being seen." He held up his hand, his voice turning sardonic. "No, no—don't remind me. We don't know that I've been to Maurant."

  Faline's lips pressed together in clear exasperation. "You better take this seriously, Dan. Because half the pairs in my patrol are fighting over it, and I can't swear which way they'll settle out. And because I'll have to send a rider back to the Keep to let them know you're here."

  Of course she would. "What do you think, Faline? Did I do it? Did I kill those boys? Did I throw Kavan's body somewhere to rot? Did I watch the life drain from Dela's eyes?"

  She watched him; her eyes had taken on a suspicious glint. "No," she whispered. Then she cleared her throat. "We'll be housed with the Locals in Solace, if you need to find me." She nodded at Farren, shoved the pile of teacup shards aside with her toe, and rose from the chair. Just past the doorway she hesitated, her straight shoulders dropping slightly—but in the end walked on without looking back.

  Farren said nothing. Reandn sagged against the door frame, his eyes closed; he listened to the patrol's conversation fade as Faline arrived at the well, the snorts of mild protest as horses were mounted, a few good-byes to Tanager. Then the Wolves left him behind with no more farewell than the sound of hooves on dirt, muffled by numbers into a low-key clatter.

  He could have been with them. Back in the Pack, once more the best among the elite.

  But he'd chosen his trail. He could no longer afford to be restrained by the rules that made a Wolf the King's man instead of his own. No matter what the price in the end.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  Chapter 18

  Reandn took the cup of blackberries Kacey offered him as lunch, gulped a mug of her bitter tea, and headed for the barn, crunching the infinite tiny berry seeds between his teeth. Kacey, who'd been lurking close enough to the common room to hear most if not all of the exchange with Faline, had an obvious interest in talking.

  Reandn did not. And since Sky seldom asked him questions—and since brushing and currying were just the thing to get the blood moving in his stiffening arm—he headed for the barn.

  He scattered chickens between the house and the log barn with a long, swift stride, stopping once to look at the woods that folded around the physician's household. It was the woods he really wanted—but his woods. And his life. Both, he suspected, were something of the past now.

  The barn created a cool cave
of shade in the midday heat. Although this area didn't seem as warm as swamp-aired Maurant, it was still beyond his experience for this time of year. Spring, they called it, but their gardens were already planted and the earliest crops were in harvest. The leaves had lost their early yellow-green tint, and rustled dryly against the side of the barn where it backed up into the woods.

  Reandn grabbed the brushes and opened the stall door; Sky gave him a wary look. "No worry," Reandn told him. "You're through working. Let me get you cleaned up and I'll turn you out in the corral with that black beast of Kacey's. She'll teach you some manners." He chose a stiff brush and began at the gelding's neck, where the winter hair still shed copiously.

  He'd have to be careful when he rode into Solace, he realized, or he'd alert Ronsin. He'd learn everything he could about the city before he circled in on the man. He was a Wolf and Solace would be his hunting grounds—just as Ronsin would be his prey.

  Faline wouldn't like it. She might even try to make good the promise to take him in. Reandn rubbed horse hair from his face, knowing he had to avoid a confrontation with her at all costs. Evade her, and the Prime would eventually give orders to forget about his cold trail. Harm her and he'd be labeled as rogue as Ronsin; even Saxe would hunt him down.

  He decided to give her a day or two to sniff out the city. Given time to gather some of the facts, to discover she couldn't dispute anything he and Farren had told her, she might change her mind about what was and wasn't appropriate justice. Reandn's thumb gently rubbed Adela's ring. Not long now.

  Reandn brushed gently over Sky's bony knees, thinking about Farren. Despite the wizard's reasonable claim that he could be of some help, Reandn couldn't risk that Farren would somehow alert Ronsin to Reandn's presence. He especially couldn't risk having Tanager along—Tanager, who would do anything for his grandfather no matter the consequences, if only because he never thought about the consequences until it was too late.