Eversong (The Kindred Book 1)

by Donna Grant

  As he rode into the town, he spotted the tavern near the entrance. Braith stopped his horse before the structure and dismounted, looping the reins around a wooden post.

  He looked up and down the street, noting the new buildings. The location of the town next to the two rivers allowed everyone to thrive. The wealth brought in many different travelers, which meant it would be a good place to gather information from many regions around.

  Braith merely had to follow his nose to the market. The main item for sale was fish, which wouldn’t last more than a day while traveling. He skipped those booths and bought bread, cheese, and dried meat.

  With the bags in hand, he returned to the tavern. He looked at every female face, wondering if any of them were witches. It’s not as if their magic could be seen. That allowed them to blend in with others easily. Too easily for his peace of mind.

  He strode into the tavern and halted at the door. His gaze scanned the occupants looking for Leoma, but she was nowhere to be seen.

  “Good afternoon,” a buxom barmaid with curly blond hair said as she passed him carrying mugs of ale.

  Braith gave her a nod and made his way to a table. He sat with his back to the wall and set the bags of food at his feet. While the village appeared to be a decent place, he didn’t want to remain.

  “Thirsty?” the barmaid asked as she stopped at his table.

  He looked up into her dark eyes. While she wasn’t a great beauty, she was comely. No doubt that, along with her flirting, helped her earn extra coin.

  “Ale,” he replied.

  “Right away. How about something to eat, milord? We’ve the best catch of the day.”

  He gave a nod, knowing he should eat while he could.

  “I’ll see to it,” she said and walked away, hips swaying.

  Within moments, she returned with a large mug and a plate of smoked fish. She set it down, and he handed her a few coins. He began eating while listening to the conversations around him.

  He ignored the loud, boisterous groups and focused on a table to his left where three men sat looking as if they had seen the Devil himself. Their faces were pinched as they huddled over their ales while talking low and looking around nervously.

  Traveling with thousands of men, Braith had learned to tune out things he didn’t want to hear. He did that now, mentally silencing table by table until the only one left was the one on his left.

  He concentrated on their words, straining to hear their whispers. Little by little, he understood more and more of what the three men said.

  “...we have to tell someone.”

  “Nay. No one will believe us.”

  “Or she’ll kill us.”

  A mug was lowered to the table. “I cannot remain here then.”

  “Ye’re scared.”

  “Of course he is, ye dimwit. We all are.”

  “She will come for us. I know it.”

  There was a loud snort. “She could’ve killed us on the spot, but she turned away. I don’t think she means us harm.”

  “Speak for yourself, Bill. I’m with Robin. We should either leave or tell someone.”

  “They’ll burn her at the stake,” Bill said.

  Robin shrugged. “So? Not our problem.”

  “She saved a boy’s life. Does that count for nothing?”

  The sound of the tavern door opening jerked his attention away. As soon as he spotted Leoma, he wanted to go to her, to yank her against him and kiss her until they were both senseless with desire.

  Her gaze landed on him briefly before she looked around the tavern only to hesitate at the table with the three men whose conversation he’d been listening to.

  She walked to the bar and ordered some food before making her way to a table on his right. She sat with her back to him and faced the hearth where a fire roared.

  “I was unable to send a message,” she whispered.

  He sat forward, placing his arms on the table as he began to eat. “There might be someone you want to talk to.”

  She waited until the bowl of stew was placed before her to say, “The men beside you?”

  “By their talk, I’m thinking they encountered someone like Helena.”

  “We’ll go looking after the meal.”

  He downed the fish, which was excellent, as well as some bread. While his food settled, he finished the ale and tried to hear more of what the three men were saying. Unfortunately, they had stopped talking, preferring to glare at each other instead.

  Two of them rose and walked from the tavern, leaving Bill, the man who was the least frightened of the trio. Braith grabbed his bags of food and ale and pushed back his chair as he stood.

  Bill was staring at the table, seemingly lost in thought. Braith had to clear his throat twice before the man heard him. Bill’s stringy brown hair was in need of combing.

  “May I sit?” Braith asked.

  The man frowned and gave a curt nod. “If ye wish.”

  Once seated, Braith held Bill’s gaze. “Tell me what occurred.”

  “I’m not sure what ye mean.”

  Braith knew men like Bill. While the man wasn’t exactly a coward, the few times he did find his backbone, it was broken easily. And that meant it would be easy for Braith to get the information he needed.

  He stretched out his legs and put his hand on the hilt of his sword. Bill’s gaze followed his movements, his eyes widening when he saw the weapon.

  “Apologies, milord. I didn’t see yer sword,” Bill hastened to say.

  “Nor am I dressed of my station, but there’s a reason for that. Now, tell me what you and your comrades were discussing.”

  Bill swallowed loudly. His gaze darted around before he leaned close. “I saw a witch.”

  “Where?”

  “Up the south river.”

  “What happened?” Braith pressed.

  Bill’s hand shook as he raised his mug to his lips and drained the last of his ale. “She saved a little boy’s life who drowned.”

  “And?”

  “That’s it,” Bill insisted. “She saw us, but she did nothing. And she could have. I’m sure of it.”

  Braith pulled out several coins and set them on the table before pushing them toward the man. “Forget what you saw at the river. Forget me. Otherwise, I’ll have to come back. And trust me, Bill, you don’t want me to return.”

  “Aye, milord,” he said, his voice trembling.

  Braith held his gaze for a moment longer. Then he gathered the bags and stood. He strode from the tavern without looking at Leoma. He knew she had heard their conversation.

  Within minutes, he was mounted on his horse and leaving the village behind. He rode to the south river and directed the stallion upstream.

  While he wasn’t exactly in a hurry to talk to a witch, the idea that it might be Helena was too tempting to pass up. Especially since they were in need of more people to stand against the Coven.

  However, he did have to reconcile the fact that just because the witch didn’t kill Bill and his friends didn’t mean that she wasn’t part of the Coven.

  Braith couldn’t believe he was riding toward a witch when all he wanted to do was get far away from anything having to do with the Coven.

  “Not going to wait for me?”

  He yanked on the reins, causing his horse to jerk his head up and down and dance to the side. Braith put a hand on the animal’s neck, calming him as he looked at Leoma, who stood smiling atop an outcropping of rocks.

  “I knew you’d catch up,” he replied.

  Her smile faded as she looked in the direction he was headed. “This could be a trap.”

  “I know.”

  “It could also be someone who will help us.”

  Braith shrugged. “Or someone who wants nothing to do with us or the Coven.”

  “All witches are going to have to take a stand. Pick a side. The sooner they realize that, the better.” Leoma adjusted the hood of her cloak. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

&nb
sp; He watched as she jumped from the rocks and started walking. How he wished they could have a day or two for themselves without having to worry about the Coven capturing him.

  At least, it gave him something to look forward to.

  Chapter 17

  A wrong choice could end her life and put Braith in the hands of the Coven. Leoma had never been in such a situation before. There were no good choices. It was simply a matter of finding the one that hurt the least.

  “Are you sure?” Braith asked from beside her after he dismounted.

  Leoma stared at the smoke from the fire. The witch was hiding. Because of fear or a trap, Leoma didn’t yet know. But she was about to find out.

  She pushed back the hood of her cloak as her gaze found three different places where the witch could be hiding among the rocks and trees.

  “Stand at the water’s edge. It’s the most advantageous for you if she’s hiding there, there, or there,” he said, pointing out the places Leoma had already sighted.

  She turned her head to him. He gripped the hilt of his sword repeatedly, as if he were imagining meeting the witch himself. The only reason he wasn’t already out there was because his blade couldn’t kill witches.

  His indigo gaze swung to her. His face was lined with annoyance at not being able to take action. She understood that emotion. It had plagued her for years until she was able to finally hunt herself.

  “If something should go wrong—”

  “It won’t,” he said over her.

  She smiled. “If it should, remember to head south toward the great forest. Once there, just say Edra’s name over and over until one of them finds you and takes you to the abbey. Don’t stop for anything or anyone.”

  “I didn’t think you wanted this brought to the abbey.”

  “I don’t, but you need to stay far from the Coven.”

  He raised a dark brow. “You mean until I can get a weapon of my own.”

  The thought of him standing against witches wielding a sword filled with magic made her stomach flutter in excitement. She wanted to stand beside him to fight the Coven.

  His fingers slipped into her hair, and he cupped the side of her head as he faced her. “I don’t like running from my enemies, but I’m also not a fool. I know that, right now, the Coven has the upper hand. I’ll lead them on a merry chase until that advantage turns my way.”

  “I know. I like that about you. Probably too much,” she confessed.

  “Forget this witch. Let’s go.”

  She smiled sadly and put her hand over his. “It was you who said we needed to build up our army to stand against the Coven.”

  “Aye, I did. I don’t like that you’re putting your life on the line for something that can wait.”

  “But it can’t,” she argued. “If this witch is with the Coven, then she already knows we’re here. The sooner I dispatch her, the better.”

  His faced hardened as his dark hair blew in the wind. “I’ll be helping you with that. Even if it is just with a dagger.”

  Gazing into his stunning eyes, she continued. “If the witch is also on the run from the Coven, then I need to get her on our side. She can help.”

  A muscle jumped in his jaw as he glanced at the fire.

  “What is it?” Leoma asked.

  “I don’t like waiting behind. I’m a warrior, dammit.”

  She turned and kissed his palm. “We work together. This time, I’m the one going out there. You can go next time.”

  “Don’t get hurt,” he demanded.

  “Aye, my lord,” she replied and rose up to give him a quick kiss.

  He tried to hold her, but Leoma quickly stepped away. She knew if she allowed the kiss to continue, she would forget about the witch and give in to her desires. That wasn’t wise at present.

  Leoma hopped onto a rock in the river. She spread her arms to keep her balance and then rapidly jumped onto the next four rocks until she was across. Only then did she look back at Braith.

  His hand was once more on the hilt of his sword, his grip tight. She gave a nod and waited for him to return it before she faced the camp. And the waiting witch.

  As Braith suggested, Leoma kept to the edge of the river as she made her way toward the fire. The birds sang, filling the silence along with the noises of the burning wood. There was no evil vibe that Leoma sometimes felt when hunting witches, but that didn’t mean she was going to let her guard down.

  She kept her sword sheathed as she came to a halt. Her gaze went to all three hiding places, but something kept drawing her back to the fire and the two trees about ten paces behind it.

  “I know you’re here. Come out,” Leoma called.

  There was a rush of wind as a feminine voice said, “I know what you are. Hunter.”

  “You need not worry about that unless you are part of the Coven.”

  Laughter floated on the wind. “I would sooner slit my own throat than become part of them.”

  “Then show yourself.” Leoma looked around while trying to determine where the witch was. Her voice was coming from every direction.

  “The Coven grows closer with each passing moment. Why linger here?”

  “Because we need witches who will rise up against them.”

  More laughter, this time tinged with sadness. “I cannot and will not help you, Hunter. I’ve remained hidden from the Coven for over twenty years, and I’ll continue doing that.”

  “You wouldn’t have to hide anymore.”

  “Is that not what you and your companion are doing?” the witch asked.

  Leoma was tired of talking to a disembodied voice. “They want him for something, and we’re going to make sure they don’t catch him.”

  “Then you should run. I’ll slow them for you, but that is all I will do, Hunter. Ask no more of me.”

  The wind died, as did the fire. Leoma blew out a frustrated breath and turned on her heel to make her way back to Braith. It infuriated her that she hadn’t had the words to convince the witch to join them.

  Someone as powerful as she, who could disguise herself and use the wind as her voice was someone the Hunters needed on their side. Unfortunately, Leoma had failed to secure her.

  “I gather things didn’t go well,” Braith said when she returned.

  Leoma stretched her neck first one way and then the other. “I never saw her. She remained hidden, but she told me she wouldn’t join us.”

  “So she knew who you were?”

  “She knows I’m a Hunter, aye.” Leoma looked at him. “She also said the Coven was close, and that she would slow them down for us to leave.”

  Braith gave her a flat look. “Then what are we waiting for?”

  He vaulted onto the stallion’s back and held out his hand. She grasped it and threw a leg over the animal as Braith pulled her up. Leoma glanced over her shoulder at the camp as he spun the horse around and nudged it into a gallop.

  It was some time later once they had put a good distance between them and the village that Braith slowed the horse to a walk.

  She grinned as she glimpsed the frown he had worn for several leagues. “You’ve been mulling over something for a while now. What’s bothering you?”

  “The witch,” he replied. “Why wouldn’t she fight?”

  Leoma adjusted her grip on his waist and rested her chin against his back. “She said she has been hiding from them for over two decades.”

  “That’s a long time.”

  “I suppose. Then again, Edra hid from them for seven years before she made a stand. Some would say she’s still hiding.”

  Braith covered her hands with one of his. “Edra isn’t concealing herself. She’s being strategic in her warfare. I’m sure when the time comes, she will step out and stand alongside you to fight the Coven.”

  “All these years, as I’ve trained and hunted, I always believed we would defeat the Coven.”

  His head snapped to the side to look back at her. “You no longer feel that way?”

  “I
still have hope, but something has changed. I’ve been trying to determine what it is that made me shift my thinking. It took me a while, but I have it figured out.”

  “And?” he asked, looking forward.

  She looked up at the profile of his face. “It’s you.”

  Braith stopped the horse. He was silent for several moments. “Me?”

  Before she could reply, he lifted his leg over the horse’s head and slid to the ground. He gazed up at her in confusion and anger. “Because you gave yourself to me.”

  “Nay,” she said and dismounted to stand beside him. “This has nothing to do with us. I’ve been going over everything Brigitta said, and I keep coming back to why they want you.”

  He grabbed the stallion’s reins and drew them over the animal’s head as they began walking. “I’ve told you I have no idea what they want me for.”

  “What puzzles me most is that witches can use magic to get anything they want. Their relentless pursuit of you concerns me.”

  “Because you believe they may have a grander plan that the Hunters have overlooked.”

  She nodded, her stomach souring as he put her thoughts into words. “If that is indeed what is happening, then the army you spoke of needs to be brought together now.”

  “That’s going to be difficult if the witches won’t come out of hiding.”

  When his hand brushed her fingers before linking with hers, she smiled. But it quickly faded as she recalled their topic of conversation.

  “My fear is that it is going to take the Coven gaining power for the witches to realize they need to do something.”

  Braith glanced at her. “You cannot force anyone to do what they aren’t ready to face. Trust me, I know. That which you fear will most likely come to pass.”

  “It may be too late by then.”

  He halted and turned to her. “Regardless, if I have a weapon to fight the Coven or not, I will stand with you. Not because the witches want me for some nefarious purpose. And not because we made love. Because it’s the right thing to do. Because to stand idle is to allow a group of reprehensible witches to gain power. Once they have a taste of it, they’ll crave more.”