The Kinshield Legacy (25 page)

Drenched to the skin, Daia trudged through the downpour from one inn to the next, describing the Nilmarion to everyone who would listen. In her palm, she carried a kion, ready to offer anyone who could give her some useful information. But no one reported seeing her quarry.

As glad as she was that Gavin would help her on this mission, she felt uneasy about traveling with him. The prospect of bearing his lecherous grin or brutish manners didn’t concern her. She felt, inexplicably, that she had to protect him. That notion was absurd, of course. A one-eyed blind man could see he could fend for himself and a dozen of her. Yet there was something unusual about him. Something significant. He reminded her of quicksand: seemingly ordinary on the surface, but with a hidden depth dangerous to the unwary. Well, she wouldn’t be caught off her guard. She would discover the secret Arlet tried to protect.

Pulling open the door of another inn, Daia thought she couldn’t be any colder or wetter. The warmth of the air inside the inn’s lobby sent a shudder of pleasure through her.

Across the floor lay a beautiful plush rug of red, burgundy and gold, and she didn’t have the heart to walk across it, dripping as she was. When she stopped at its edge, she caught the thankful expression on the face of the innkeeper as he hurried over, his round belly jiggling.

“Do you need a room, Lady Sister?” he asked.

“I’m looking for someone; I hoped he’d be staying here. Nilmarion man...”

“If you’re speaking of Lord Tyr, I’m afraid he’s already left.”

“Tyr, that must be him,” Daia said. “What’s his first name?”

The innkeeper regarded her with narrowed eyes. “You’re not a friend of Lord Tyr?”

“I won’t lie to you -- I don’t know him. But a serious crime has been committed, and I think he may have some information that could help me capture the perpetrator.” Not quite a lie.

“Oh, I hope he’s not in any danger,” the innkeeper said with a hand to his heart.

“No, I don’t think so. Was he traveling with a swordsman, perchance? Blond, with a thin beard?”

Daia flashed the silver coin in her hand. The innkeeper smiled as he accepted it. “None that I saw.”

“Can you describe his mount?”

“Oh, a gentleman like Sithral Tyr does not sit astride. He had a coach. Quite a lovely one too -- black with the most exquisite silver trim. Looks like ivy creeping around the edges of the coach and down the corners. Four horses, I think. Yes, four. All black.”

Good. This confirmed he was the same Nilmarion she’d seen at the Lucky Inn. “Do you have any idea where he might have been going?” Daia asked.

The innkeeper rubbed his chin. “Mmmm, no, I don’t think he mentioned it. Do you need a room for the night, Lady Sister? I’m sure you’d like to get into some dry clothes.”

Daia smiled. “Thanks, but no. I’ve made other arrangements. You have been most helpful. If you happen to remember anything else about him before morning, would you please send word to me at the Princess Inn? I’m Daia Saberheart.”

“Most assuredly. I hope you find the criminal quickly and will pray that no harm comes to Lord Tyr.”

What had Arlet told the swordswoman about the sword? The question ran repeatedly through Gavin’s mind as he walked, head bowed and shoulders hunched, through the rain. By the time he arrived at the Stronghammers’ home, his teeth chattered as loudly as his knuckles rapped on the door.

“Oh, Gavin, it is you,” Arlet squealed when she opened the door. “Thanks to Yrys.”

Gavin was prepared to stand on the stoop so as not to track water across her floor, but she took him by the hand and tugged on his arm.

“Come inside,” she told him. “I have much to tell you. Terrible thing happened.”

“So I heard.” Gavin stepped into the greatroom.

Arlet shut the door behind him. “You are so cold. Let me get blanket for you.”

“Don’t bother,” he said. “I just came to ask about Risan.”

“Miss Daia found you?”

“She found me.”

“Oh, praise Yrys,” Arlet said. She put a log on the fire and fanned it with the bellows. “I told her mayhap you would help find my husband. Miss Daia thinks someone kidnapped him. My poor, poor husband. She knew about gems, Gavin. Risan told his friends about how you rescued me in river and truth about gems slipped out. Was accident -- he would not tell them on purpose. But Miss Daia thinks Risan is one who solved runes, not you. I am sorry, Gavin. We promised we would not tell others about you and gems.”

“Did you tell her it was me?”

“No, I did not. Yrys forgive me – I let her think Risan solved runes. I think she would not try to find him if she knows he will not be king.”

Gavin did not think the swordswoman would abandon her search for Risan if she discovered the truth, but he understood Arlet’s reluctance to take the chance. “It’s all right,” he told her. “We’ll find Risan.”

A flood of tears gushed down her cheeks. “Oh, thank you so much. Thank you. I could not bear to lose him. He is only family I have now. You are good man, Gavin Kinshield.” She put her arms around his waist, seemingly unconcerned that he was wet to the skin, and hugged him tightly. “Such good man. You will tell Miss Daia about solving runes?” she asked when she stepped back.

Gavin took a deep breath. Good question. “I think I got to. What about the gems? Are they in the sword?”

“Yes. I am so sorry, Gavin. Your sword was stolen along with my husband.” Arlet wrung her hands. “I do not know what to do. You trusted to leave gems with us, and now they are gone.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll find Risan and the sword.” Gavin reached with a hesitant hand and patted her shoulder. “Arlet, Daia thinks it has some kind of enchantment.”

“It was suppose to be surprise,” Arlet said with a weak smile. “We went to Farthan mage for enchantment. Very powerful ancient Farthan magic.”

“What kind o’magic was it?”

“I am still learning about such things, but it will bind to you when you claim it. Very powerful. It has spell for strength in battle, sharpness and Warrior’s Wisdom. This is all I know. But Gavin,” Arlet said, her forehead wrinkling, “even I did not tell Miss Daia gems are yours, she maybe knows anyway.”

“Why do you say that?”

“She is
vusar
.”

“What?” Gavin asked.

“I think in common tongue it is con-dit? Con... con-do-it? That is like pipe, yes?”

Gavin shook his head in confusion. Conduit? What did she mean?

“She can make connect with you, but I am not so clever about such things. Farthan mystics meditate and study for whole lifetime in hoping they develop
vusar
ability. Miss Daia has it herself, naturally. Being
vusar
means she can funnel strength in others, but strong
vusar
can do more -- know what others know, even look past boundary of time to see what is on current path in future. She will be great advantage to you, Gavin.”

Gavin already guessed that much, but wondered what being a mystical conduit had to do with finding Risan. He gave a mental shrug and turned to go. “Try not to worry overmuch. You got a friend you can stay with ‘til we bring Risan back?”

“I will be fine here. Thank you so much, Gavin. We owe you everything. May Yrys bless your every breath and footstep.”

Chapter 25

Brawna paced the length of the garrison, mentally counting off the items she would need for her journey. She had three changes of clothes, an extra pair of boots, two daggers, her throwing axe and sword, some dried meat and fruit, a small sack of dried beans, two loaves of bread and a round of cheese.

She stuffed as much of her gear as she could into her knapsack, and what didn’t fit she bundled together and wrapped in one of her tunics, which she could strap onto her horse. The extra boots would be a problem.

Enamaria walked into the garrison, her boots thumping on the wooden floor. “Are you ready to leave?”

Brawna turned with a grin. “Yeh, I just need to get a couple of leather straps to tie this stuff to my saddle.”

Enamaria picked up the bundle of cloth. “What’s this?”

“Just some bread and cheese and extra clothes in case it rains or—”

“Leave it,” Enamaria said. She turned on her heel. “Grab your pack and let’s go. We don’t have the luxury of bringing our entire wardrobe. One extra tunic, your weapons and some dried food. We can hunt for whatever else we need to eat once we get there. Now come on. And take off your sash.”

Brawna untied her sash and tossed it onto her bed, then grabbed her knapsack and hurried to catch up to her companion. “Where are we going? You haven’t told me our mission yet.”

“Wait until we’re on the road and away from curious ears. Is your horse saddled?”

“Not yet—”

“Brawna, I told you to be ready to leave by the fifteenth hour. For someone going on her first mission, you’re poorly organized.”

Brawna swallowed. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to pack my things and—”

“Never mind. Just hurry up and get your horse. Meet me at the gatehouse. If you’re not there by the time I count to one hundred, I’m leaving without you.”

Brawna sprinted to the stable.

Her brown mare looked up when Brawna entered the stall. “How now, Tripsa. We’re going on our first adventure together.” She quickly readied her mare and then led the mare by the reins through the stable toward the gatehouse.

“Ninety-nine...” Enamaria said loudly.

Brawna quickened her step. “I’m ready.”

The two women mounted and walked their horses to the eastern city gate. Neither of them spoke until they were well past the edge of town. Riding west through rolling farmlands toward the mountains, Brawna could wait no longer. “Can you tell me now?” she asked.

Enamaria grinned. “We’re going to the Rune Cave.”

Brawna gasped. “The Rune Cave? Why?”

“We’re supposed to watch it. Watch the entrance. When we see who goes in there to solve the runes, we follow him, find out who he is and report back.”

“What if he doesn’t come? It could be weeks. Months.”

“We’re doing it in shifts. Galiveth and Vandra are there now. We’ll stay a week, and then someone else will come.”

Brawna chewed her bottom lip. “But why?”

Enamaria tossed her a smile. “Well, think about it. If we find out who our next king is going to be, we can ally with him now -- offer our protection and defend his right to rule once he claims the King’s Blood-stone. The Sisterhood will prosper and grow, and we’ll be heroines.”

Brawna smiled broadly. “Imagine what my brother would say to that.”

It was well past dusk by the time Brawna and Enamaria arrived at the entrance to the Rune Cave. An owl scolded them from its perch above, but the night was otherwise still and silent. Brawna blew on her hands to warm them, then put her palms across her face to warm her nose. She listened for signs of fellow Sisters nearby. “Are you sure they’re here?”

Enamaria cupped her hands beside her mouth and mimicked the whistle of a blackbird. A moment later, the sound of another blackbird replied.

“Is that them?” Brawna asked.

Enamaria called once more with the birdsong. “Blackbirds don’t live in this part of the country,” she said.

A dark form appeared at the top of a hill to the south and waved an arm. “Here,” a woman’s voice called.

Enamaria turned her horse and started up the hill, and Brawna followed. When they neared, Brawna recognized the woman’s face from the compound, but didn’t know whether this was Vandra or Galiveth.

The campsite was closer than Brawna had expected, and overlooked the cave entrance. Hot coals smoldered within a circle of stones. A second Sister was squatting, warming her hands. She stood when Brawna and Enamaria dismounted.

“Right on time,” she said as she and Enamaria shook hands. The woman looked at Brawna. “Hail. I’m Vandra. That’s Galiveth.”

“I’m Brawna.”

“Brawna the Blade?”

Brawna grinned. “The same.”

“I thought you wore a green sash.”

“I do,” Brawna said.

Vandra looked at Enamaria, who shrugged. “There weren’t any other browns at the compound,” Enamaria said, “and all the blacks are either out on missions or they had students to teach.”

“Aminda would never have sent her,” Galiveth said.