The Kinshield Legacy (20 page)

Daia spent at least two hours pacing in her room at the Princess Inn before the sun started to lighten the sky. Come early, Arlet had said. Was it too early?

Already dressed and with her sword strapped to her waist, she decided to go to Stronghammer’s shop anyway. If he hadn’t awoken yet, perhaps she could get a cup of tea in the market and wait.

Her heart thudded as she walked through the quiet, dusty streets of Ambryce, and her thumbs, jittering rhythmically, tapped her thighs as her hands swung past.

He’s not the king yet. He’s just a blacksmith. A blacksmith who needs the support of the Sisterhood, like any other citizen might. As long as the story of his rune-solving activities did not continue to spread, he was probably not in so much danger. But when it came to protecting the king, she couldn’t be too cautious.

When she arrived at the shop, the Closed sign still hung in the window. Inside the shop, a lamp sat sputtering on a table. She knocked hard on the door, hoping someone was within earshot.

After a few minutes and a few more knocks, Arlet entered the shop through the rear, wrapped in a brown robe too big for her, and shuffled to the door. As Arlet passed the lamp, she gave it a second glance and a scowl. As she opened the door, she started to speak, and then paused, a curious expression on her face. “I am sorry, I slept overmuch this morning. Risan should heard you from foundry. I will see what he is doing.”

“Is something wrong?” Daia asked. “You look surprised. Did you forget I was coming?”

“No, I did not forget. I also did not forget to bolt door last night. But now it was unbolted. Maybe Risan went out earlier.” She turned her head and bellowed, “Risan,” toward the rear shop entrance, her voice surprisingly loud for her tiny stature.

The answering silence made the hair on Daia’s neck bristle.

“I will check,” Arlet said. “He is probably outside tending to jackass.”

After Arlet left to see whether Risan was tending the donkey, Daia once again admired the weapons the Stronghammers had for sale. She picked up the knife she’d seen in the display case the day before and turned it over in her hands. What balance. What smooth lines. She flipped it into the air intending to catch it in a reverse grip, but misjudged its spin. The knife clattered to the floor. Daia cringed, hoping Arlet hadn’t heard it. She glanced toward the door at the rear of the shop, and then squatted to retrieve the knife.

The floor was dusted with specks of fine white powder. Not the entire floor, just a small area near the door. She touched her finger to the powder and raised it to her nose for a sniff.

The room spun. Daia reached for the cabinet to steady herself until the sensation passed. Serragan powder. She’d heard of its strange dizzying effect, as well as rumors of its growing use by robbers and rapists.

“He is not outside and his coat is still--,” Arlet said as she came through the door. “Miss Daia?”

Daia stood, still clutching the display case. “I’m here.” She slipped the knife back into the cabinet. “Do you use serragan powder for anything?”

Arlet wrinkled her brow. “What is serragan powder?”

“It’s made from a plant that grows in the hills of-” Nilmaria. Daia glanced at the door. Arlet had said it was unbolted. Hell’s bones! The Nilmarion had come. Wait. Could there be another reason for the powder on the floor or the door being unbolted? She did not want to alarm Arlet needlessly, but she couldn’t imagine another explanation plausible enough to sell. “Lady Arlet, did you hear anything unusual during the night?”

“No, just Risan bang around. What is wrong?”

“This powder on the floor - when inhaled it makes you dizzy and disoriented. Do you have any use for the powder that might explain its presence here?”

“No, I never heard of powder before. You think someone...” Arlet’s eyes widened. “Risan? Someone stole Risan? Oh no, no!” She began to cry.

Daia put her hands on Arlet’s shoulders. “Now, we don’t know for certain that’s what happened. Remember I asked if you’d seen a Nilmarion man?”

“Yes, but I did not see him.” Arlet wrung her hands. “Why? Why someone would kidnap Risan? He is simple blacksmith.”

Daia pressed her lips together. “Listen, Arlet. I don’t think anyone would hurt him. If he has been abducted -- and we don’t know yet if he has or not -- his kidnapper might simply want him to solve the remaining runes. Perhaps this person wants to claim the King’s Blood-stone for himself.”

“Solve runes? Risan is not--” Arlet tucked her lips between her teeth and looked away.

“Risan’s not what? What is it, Arlet?”

“He is not kind of man to tell kidnapper answers to runes.”

“Do you think he already knows the meanings of the remaining runes?”

“No, he does not, but even if he knows, he would not tell. Not on purpose.”

“Is anything missing?” Daia asked, looking around. The display case had no empty spots to suggest a burglary, but theft was worth hoping for in light of the alternative. “Perhaps you’ve only been robbed and Risan’s in pursuit of the thief.”

Arlet snatched the lamp from the table and ran from the room with a whimper. Daia followed her into the foundry.

The workshop was clean and orderly. The forge in the middle of the room was cool, its weight-powered bellows still. Three anvils of different sizes sat on a low workbench, and eight hammers hung from nail-pegs on the wall above it. Various sets of tongs and pokers lined the wall beside the hammers, arranged by size. Arlet opened and slammed the doors of the three wardrobes standing against one wall.

“What are you looking for?” Daia asked.

“Sword.” Arlet stopped her search and faced Daia. She looked pasty. “Sword Risan made -- it is gone.” She buried her face in her hands and wept.

“Perhaps he simply went into the wilds to test it? Could that be why he isn’t here?”

Arlet shook her head firmly, and said through her sobs, “No. He does not do that. He would not take this sword - this is special sword. It has-- it has special enchantment.”

“All right, a sword’s missing,” Daia said, “anything else?”

“Nothing important. Thief could take every weapon in shop and I do not care, if only he leaves this one.”

Daia studied the Farthan woman. She seemed as upset about the missing sword as her missing husband.

“This sword is very important,” Arlet explained. “Kidnapper also stole sword. This is terrible, terrible.”

Daia took a deep breath. “Tell me about the sword, then. What sort of enchantment did it have?”

“I do not know. It is ancient Farthan enchantment. Mage put it.”

An enchanted sword of some significance, but Arlet didn’t know what magic possessed it? Or perhaps she knew but wouldn’t say. Why was she so concerned about the bloody sword? “Where can I find the mage?” Daia asked. “I’d like to know what interest the sword might hold for its thief.”

“Her name is Jennalia. You can find her south-east of here on Mill Road. Brown house with yellow window shutters. Miss Daia, please help us. Please find Risan, will you?” Arlet took Daia’s hand. “Please.”

“Of course I will, Arlet.” Daia reached tentatively and stroked the future queen’s black hair. It felt like strands of silk. “I will find him.”

“And sword?”

“I will do my best.”

“I know someone can help you,” Arlet said. She sniffled and wiped her eyes with the voluminous sleeve of her robe. “Warrant knight name of Gavin Kinshield. Find him. Sword belongs to him. He will want it back.”

“How do you know he doesn’t already have it?”

Arlet cocked her head. “I do not understand what is you are asking. Risan made it for Gavin. Gavin promised to come get it after one week passed and that is one week ago. He should be here soon, but I did not see him yet.”

Daia wondered how well Arlet knew this Gavin fellow. The surname of Kinshield came with no guarantee of integrity. “Is it possible that Gavin Kinshield came during the night?”

“And kidnap Risan? No. Gavin is not like that. He is good man - very good man.”

“Tell me about the sword. Why is it so important to you?”

Arlet chewed her lip for a moment. “Risan made it for Gavin because he saved my life. It is fël - repayment like valour-gild, but more. If Risan does not give sword to Gavin, he would be dishonor.”

Daia straightened. The tale she’d heard said that Risan had saved a child from drowning -- and Arlet was about the size of a child. “Did Kinshield save you from drowning?”

“No,” Arlet said, glancing away. “From, ah... robber on street. He had knife. Gavin saved me. Lots of people witnessed - you can ask townsfolks in market. Ask them. They will tell you how brave he is.”

Daia suspected Arlet wasn’t being entirely truthful about Kinshield. “Where can I find him?”

Arlet shrugged. “I do not know where he lives. Mayhap townsfolks at inns or taverns knows him. He is big warrant knight with scars here.” Arlet ran two fingers down the side of her face. “He will come back soon for his sword -- I will tell him to find you.”

Daia thought it best if she found Kinshield first. She put her hand on the future queen’s shoulder. “I’ll find Risan. Try not to worry overmuch. If I must, I’ll have the entire Viragon Sisterhood looking for him.” She turned to leave.

“Miss Daia?” Arlet asked to her back. Daia turned around. Arlet took the dagger Daia had been admiring from the display case. “For helping Risan.” She walked forward, the knife across her open palms, offering it to Daia.

Daia hesitated. She hadn’t done anything to deserve it, only what any good citizen would do: promise to help the king.

“Please,” Arlet said softly. “A fël cannot be refused.”

With a nod, Daia took the knife, certain she was violating some code for accepting valour-gild before having earned it or for coveting a blade that hadn’t been hers. Now she couldn’t fail.

The house with yellow shutters, like its neighbors, sat four paces from the road. At the door, Daia paused to scrape the dirt from the soles of her boots on the edge of the stoop. The door swung open just as she raised her fist to knock.

“
Vusar,
” the woman said with a mostly-toothless smile.

Some sort of Farthan greeting, Daia supposed. “Good evening. I came to--”

“Come in, please,” the woman said, stepping back. Her filmy eyes were wide, but Daia got the impression by the way they were directed at her ear that the woman was blind.

The home had one room with a narrow bed in a corner behind a curtain not quite fully drawn. The scent of simmering herbs lingered in the air of the tidy home, reminding Daia of her mother’s garden and prompting a pang of sadness that she pushed aside with a practiced effort. Without a lamp, the house grew dimmer by the moment as the dusk deepened. “I’m Daia Saberheart of the Viragon Sis--”

“No need for speaking. I find out what I need this way.” The elderly Farthan closed the door, took Daia by the hands, and smiled as she rocked forward and back. Her hands felt warm and her skin dry. Her threadbare gray dress barely reached the tops of her ankles above straw slippers on her dainty feet.

Daia waited a few moments, but the woman said nothing. She continued to rock back and forth, holding Daia’s hands in hers and grinning. Daia cleared her throat and said, “I came to ask you about--”

“Stay with me. I am searching for you long time. Long time.”

This woman was mad, Daia decided. She must be at the wrong house.

“My name is Jennalia. You seek answers, I seek you,
Vusar.
”

Daia was wasting her time. She just wanted to know what enchantment the mage had put on the sword. She shook off the old woman’s hands and turned to leave. “I’ve made a mistake. I beg your pardon.” Daia felt a wash of light prickles in her gut. So, the Farthan was a shadow-reader.

“You have questions about sword,” Jennalia said, “but you also seek Risan Stronghammer.” Her eyelids fluttered over those clouded, staring eyes.

Daia stopped. “What? How do you know that?”

“I am not so blind. I see your intent in shadow,” Jennalia said, moving her hands as if shaping a bubble around Daia’s body. “Same way I see intent in Risan when he come with sword.”

“What can you tell me about the sword? What enchantment did you put on it?”