An Oath Of The Kings (Book 4) (10 page)

She reached out and grabbed both of his hands in hers. “I love Kiernan and want her back as much as you do, you know that. But…”

“But…?”

“We can’t ignore this threat, Beck. A momentous event will happen in Nysa.” She let go of his hands and visibly shivered. “I can feel it hanging there over our collective heads.”

“Maybe what you’ve seen has already happened with the death of the King.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s a future event. Of that, I’m certain.”

“Duncan Bartlett has announced his intention to start an accession war. Could it be that?”

Her slim shoulders lifted in a shrug. “It could be.”

“This is important, Diamond. I have to find her. At any cost.” And, he meant it. He would do whatever it took to bring his wife back home and if the people of Nysa did not like his methods, so be it.

The chambered hallway two stories below the servants’ quarters saw little use. Few people knew of the existence of this underground level and that is precisely why Beck chose it.

Seeping stone walls lined either side of the musty, winding corridor. At some sections, enough water trickled through to pool on the ground in small puddles.

Beck’s cloak billowed out behind him as he strode forward with a lighted torch gripped in one hand. He clenched his jaw in determination. For this, he was not the Prince of Iserlohn. He was Mage. And, that razor’s edge could be damned.

The arched door he sought came into view and he thrust his hand out in front of him.
“Operio!”

The door crashed open and he ducked through.

Heat crushed down on him in the stagnant, tiny room, stealing his breath. His two prisoners sat tied to wooden chairs. Their eyes widened above their gags when they saw him. The woman made small whimpering noises, but the man remained resolutely silent.

Beck gestured. “Remove their gags.”

A hooded Dax stepped out of the shadows of the corner of the room and untied the gag around Elinor Morningstar first.

“How dare you?” she cried as soon as her gag was removed. “I am a lady of the Court!

“Veritas!”
The truth spell sprang forward and Elinor’s head rolled on her shoulders, her eyes going out of focus. “What do you know of the murder of King Maximus?”

“A Mage killed him,” she said flatly, eyes fixed and dilated.

The answer took Beck by surprise. How did Elinor know this? It would be devastating to the Order to have
that
rumor out there along with everything else.

“Do you know where Kiernan Atlan is?”

“No.”

Beck turned to Duncan Bartlett. The obese man glared at him as his gag was removed. Beck cast the spell out toward him. “What do you know of Kiernan Atlan’s disappearance?”

The obese man’s eyelids drooped down. “She left the city when she found out her husband was having an affair.”

Beck growled under his breath. A truth spell did not always disclose the truth, only the truth as the beholder saw it. And, in this case both answers were false. It simply wasn’t a
Dagarmon
who killed Maximus, and Kiernan would never have left Nysa of her own free will regardless of what these nobles thought.

“Do you have House backing for your bid for the throne?” Beck asked Bartlett.

“No.”

“House Morningstar does not support you?”

“House Morningstar would slit my throat given the first chance.”

Interesting and comforting. Duncan had little chance of success at gaining the Crown without Elinor’s army. He turned toward the
Dagarmon
. “Dax, I’ve heard enough. Erase their memories of all that just transpired here.”

When Dax nodded, Beck left the room and started back down the hallway, lost in thoughts of all he’d learned.

Two short claps echoed behind him. “Very well done, First Mage.”

Beck spun his torch around. A veil of invisibility dropped from Gil Jordin as he pushed away from the wall.

Beck scowled at the
Dagarmon
leader. “I don’t appreciate you listening in on my private meetings, Jordin!”

The bald man came forward, his hands interlaced in front of him. “I cannot say as I blame you. After all, someone who didn’t know you as well as I do may have construed what I just heard as somewhat…unethical in nature.”

“Oh, it was bloody unethical, all right, and you damn well know that.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t have done it, but I need to find her, Gil. More than I need to breathe, I need to find her.”

“I see.”

Beck rounded on the Mage. “Is that all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say? That I’m disappointed in your breach of ethics? How ridiculous. You didn’t harm those idiots. You are Mage and you used your ability to solve a problem.”

“When it comes to people, certain rights must be protected, Gil! We cannot simply use sorcery against people at our whims!”

“Yet, you did just that.”

His shoulders slumped. “I did and it was wrong. We need checks and balances. If we don’t stop ourselves, Gil, who will stop us?”

The
Dagarmon
leader stepped in close to him. “Tell me, First Mage, would you do it again? To find the answers to your wife’s whereabouts, would you use those nobles? Mess with their minds and rip out a slice of their memories?”

Beck swallowed past the bile that rose in his throat. “That and more.”

****

The crow of a nearby rooster woke Kiernan. His raucous call incited the hens in the barn into a clucking frenzy. She groaned and huddled down deeper into her wool blanket. One would think she would be used to these cold Massan mornings by now, but they never failed to set her teeth chattering.

She opened her eyes.
What am I doing here?
In the light of a new day and with the fear of pursuit behind her, she suddenly had to question her decision.

North.

Why did she feel this pull to the north? Those missing memories? Or the only memories left to her?

She threw the blanket off and stood, brushing pieces of hay from her borrowed trousers and shirt. The bedroll where Cael slept last night was empty.

Eyeing her red dress hanging from the stall, she went to change all the while deciding she needed to get one less conspicuous at first chance. When she picked up the dress and fingered the red silk piled in her hands, an unexpected memory flared to life.

“Just look how pretty you are,” Candace Atlan exclaimed, grasping Kiernan’s shoulders and guiding her in front of the mirror.

Kiernan blushed fiercely. Oh, how Beck, Airron and Rogan would tease her if they ever saw her in this dress! They had only ever seen her in a tunic and leggings.

“You are a young lady now, Kiernan, and should be dressing like one.”

Kiernan examined herself critically. The off-the-shoulder, pale blue dress was pretty enough. She supposed she looked acceptable in it although her shoulders did look a little bony. “How am I to swing a sword in this dress, Mistress Atlan?”

Mistress Atlan laughed. “Knowing you, Kiernan Everard, you will find a way.”

The front door slammed open and Kiernan’s heart thudded in her chest.

Airron Falewir sauntered into the room, his violet eyes twinkling. He stopped in his tracks when he saw her. “Bloody hell, what is this?”

“What is what?” Rogan Radek asked, barreling in and pushing Airron out of the way. The Dwarf’s eyes widened. “Dear Highworld, I always knew there was a girl in there somewhere.”

Kiernan scowled at her friends.             

“Very funny,” Candace Atlan said.

Kiernan moaned. “I tried, Mistress Atlan, I really tried, but I need my tunic back.” She turned back to the mirror. “Just look at me! I look—”

“Beautiful.”

Kiernan slowly turned around to face her friend, Beck Atlan. His muscular arms strained against the white shirt he wore lending credence to his numerous complaints that he outgrew them too fast. His blue eyes latched on to hers and his gaze did strange things to her body. “Well, what are you staring at?” she demanded in an attempt to cover her embarrassment.

“I…I nothing. I mean…you. You look beautiful.”

Airron glanced at him suspiciously. “This is Kiernan you’re looking at here, Beck. You do remember her, don’t you? Scrawny kid that follows us around? Good with a sword.”

If possible, Beck’s gaze grew hotter. “I know exactly who I’m looking at.”

Kiernan shuddered. That moment felt like yesterday. Ever since then, Beck seemed more uneasy around her and she often caught him staring at her when he didn’t think she was looking. She also remembered her sharp disappointment the day she learned that he would be joining the Northwatch Legion and leaving her behind.

North. I need to go north.

She shook away the memory. She might not know the fate of her old friends, but she knew where her father was. Although he terrified her, it seemed silly now that she hadn’t confronted him so he could at least fill in the gaps in her memory. If someone truly was trying to assassinate her, her father would be the first to protect her. He would undoubtedly order her back to exile eventually, but that would be fine with her. It’s where she wanted to be anyway.

Mind made up, she quickly dressed and walked out of the stall. Perhaps she could talk Cael into taking her back to Nysa. Surely, if she told him who she was he would want to help her.

One of the double doors opened, letting in a shaft of morning light. Cael stood in the doorway and it was hard not to compare him to Beck. Where Beck was dark and broad, Cael was blonde and wiry. Both, she had to admit, were decidedly handsome. Cael must have found a comb as his hair was neatly pulled back into a leather cord at the nape of his neck.    

“Good morning,” she said, suddenly nervous about asking for his help.

“Sleep well?” he asked, walking toward her. He stopped in front of her with a smile and plucked a strand of hay from her hair.

“Yes. Thank you for the blanket.”

He bent to pick it up and shook it free of debris. “We really need to be going. I’m hoping to catch up to my father in the other wagon before Janis.”

“About that…I…I decided that I may have left too hastily. I have business with the King and really should go back to Nysa.”

“The King?”

She nodded.

“King Maximus?”

“Yes, why?”

“You didn’t hear?”

A pit formed in her stomach. “Hear what, Cael?”

“The King is dead. Murdered if the rumors are true.”

She could hardly breathe. “When?”

“A few days ago.”

Kiernan’s body went numb. Someone had killed her father and then attempted to kill her. She couldn’t go back now.

Cael reached out and clutched her arm. “Are you all right? You look pale.”

“I…I’m fine.” She turned away wondering why she had no tears for her father. The knowledge hurt her. It hurt her deeply, but it felt like a dull ache, almost as though she had already mourned his passing and learned to live with it. She swung back to Cael. “Take me to Lewstin with you.”

“I told you—”

“Yes, I know. It’s a dangerous town.”
If my suspicions are right, dangerous people are after me, too, and the more distance I put between them and me, the better.
“Please, Cael.”

“Mistress Malley—”

“Call me Larkin.”

The hollows under his eyes looked darker. “You don’t know what you’re asking, Larkin.”

“I do,” she said firmly.

“I would never forgive myself if I brought you there."

She grabbed his arm. “What is so terrible about it?”

“Let’s just say that the Duke of Lewstin doles out harsh punishment to get what he wants from people.”

A fierce protectiveness sprang to the surface. “You don’t need to suffer abuse at the hands of anyone, Cael. You simply need to register your grievances in Nysa. You have rights.”

His hands went to his neck and he began to unlace his shirt. She stepped back as he pulled the shirt over his head and turned around. She gasped in shock. Thick, raised welts crisscrossed his back. “This is what happens in Lewstin when you register grievances.” He turned around to face her. “Still want to go?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Yes.” Only now it was about saving these people from an abusive noble. She may not remember everything about her life and she may no longer be a Princess, but she was still a shifter. And, someone in Lewstin was not going to be very pleased to meet her.

“Please accept my apology for visiting at this late hour, but I had hoped to ask you a question.”

Josef Asher’s eyes bulged and his mouth hung open at the sight of Beck standing outside his modest home. His hands wrangled the night cloak at his neck.

Beck shifted awkwardly on the man’s stoop for a moment before prompting him with a subtle cough.

The royal scribe finally stepped back and waved him inside. “Forgive me! Come in, Your Grace. I’m afraid shock has addled my brain.”

Asher led the way through the small house to a library that held piles of papers. Everywhere. On the table, couch, chairs, floor. Every available space held the tools of the scribe’s trade.

Asher hurriedly scraped aside one of his precious heaps from a chair and gestured for Beck to sit. “Can I get you some tea?”

Beck sat carefully, hoping not to ruin any of the man’s careful inscriptions. “No, thank you. As I said, Master Asher, I have come to ask a question that I’m afraid could not wait until the morning.”

The little man pushed his spectacles up on his nose, the curiosity evident in his face. “Yes, yes, of course. Ask away, Your Grace.”

“I will be leaving Nysa shortly, and I want to ensure that the Princess’s interests are protected while I’m gone.”

“Oh? Shall I assume that the rumors are true, Your Grace? That the Princess has in fact left the city?”

Beck frowned. “She is no longer in Nysa, Master Asher, but that is the only truth to the gossip.”

Asher’s cheeks reddened. “I didn’t mean—”

Beck waved him off. “I need to know if I can name a King Regent until we both return to the city. I’m not the ruling heir, so I’m unsure what the law allows.”

Asher’s mouth twisted in thought. “Interesting question.” He stood and walked over to one of the overflowing bookcases that lined the library. “If memory serves me, King Dorn named a Queen Regent when he became ill. Of course, he only did so because he had no heirs.” The scribe ran his fingers along the spines of the books on the shelves until he found the one he wanted. “Ah, here it is.” He brought the heavy tome to his desk and balanced it atop one of the stacks.

Beck bit back his impatience as Asher meticulously researched the answer. After several minutes, the scribe said, “Well, it’s not as clear cut as I thought. A ruling King or Queen can name a regent in times of distress to protect the stability of their House.”

Beck sighed in relief.

“But,” he said, holding up a finger, “Princess Kiernan is not a ruling Queen. She is a ruling heir. Still, I don’t think many would object if she had a good reason for naming a regent. You, on the other hand, do not have any rights as an ancillary member of House Everard.”

“So, what would happen to House Everard if I left Nysa? And, the three-day extension requested by Duncan Bartlett and Elinor Morningstar were to pass?”

“Then, you are essentially abdicating the throne. It would be a messy fight for control among the nobles and their armies. None of us want that, Your Grace. You must stay.”

Beck felt like he had been punched in the stomach. “Unfortunately, I don’t have a choice, Master Asher. I’m going to name a regent in my absence regardless of this obscure law. In order to protect lives, I am asking you to withhold the information regarding regency for as long as you can. I would never ask you to lie to a direct question, but for the sake of the people of this city, I will ask that you not openly share what you know.”

The scribe readily nodded. “You have my word, Your Grace. I will do all I can to forestall an accession war. How long do you think you will need?”

“I’m not sure, but I plan to return as soon as is possible.”

“Very well, you can count on me, Your Grace. I can be very difficult to find when need be. I have quite a lot of parchment to hide behind,” he said with a wink.

Beck gave him a grateful smile, stood and walked to the door.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Asher asked, trailing after him. “Where are you going?”

Beck turned to look over his shoulder. “East, Master Asher. I am going east.”

****

“So, we go west?” Kiernan asked Cael.

Cael nodded and held his hands out to rub together in front of the fire. Kiernan assumed they would spend the evening within the town walls of Janis, but Cael preferred to sleep at a campsite he built in the Grayan Forest and used whenever he traveled to Nysa. She didn’t argue. Especially since she didn’t know if she would be recognized in the small town.

She supposed it was a good sign that Cael didn’t seem to have the slightest notion who she was other than a
bloody noble
.

She yawned, exhausted from a full day of travel.

“Your eye color is very pretty.”

Cael’s comment startled her and she brought a hand to her face. “You think so?”

“I do. They’re so pale that it’s hard to tell what color they are.”

“Green.”

She watched his expression carefully as he threw a stick on the fire and, in the end, decided that his comments were innocent enough. She thought of a question she’d meant to ask him earlier, but wasn’t quite sure how to ask. “Cael?”

“Yes?”

“The night we left Nysa, the guards on top of the wall used…light.”

“Oh, the fireshifters? I saw them. They appeared to be looking for someone that night.” His eyes held a meaningful glare this time.

“Fireshifters in Nysa?” She knew she was taking a risk at exposing her ignorance, but she had to know.

He shrugged. “Now that they’re part of the army, many have moved from Bardot to Nysa.”

Joined the army? Is he mad?
She would have been less surprised if he told her the sky was red! “What about…Pyraan?”

“Pyraan? I haven’t heard that name in a very long time.” He shook his head. “Sad, right?”

She nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“Such a shame that all those shifters were killed like that,” he continued. “All in one shot.”

Her heart stopped beating and she flew to her feet. “What?”

“The death of all of the shifters in Pyraan,” he said again and every word slammed another stake in her heart. “Every last one of them.”

“I…I’ll be right back,” she stammered and fled into the woods.

“Larkin! Are you all right?”

She ignored him and ran, shoving brush and low-hanging branches out of her way. She ran until she felt sure Cael wouldn’t hear the primal scream that tore from her throat.
All dead? My friends and family are all dead?
She wanted to do something. Hold someone accountable. Demand retribution.
All dead in one shot
, Cael had said. All the shifters that lived in Pyraan. Beck, Rogan, Airron, Master and Mistress Atlan, Mistress Halloran, Katrin Allendale and Jorge Owen. All dead.
No, not all. There were those fireshifters in Nysa. And, for some reason I’m still here, but how or why I’m not sure.

Her legs eventually gave out and she dropped down onto a fallen log and cradled her face in her hands. Everyone she loved gone from her life in the blink of an eye. Or, at least that’s how it felt to her. And, Bajan most likely as well. Her beloved friend and protector.

I have no one left in this world,
she thought desolately.
No one.

The woods suddenly fell dead silent, and she jerked her head up, all senses alert. A twig snapped to the right of her. She leapt to her feet and slowly pulled the knife from her belt. “Cael?”

She took two steps back.

That’s when she saw them. A pair of large, amber eyes shining from the dark recesses of the woods. She sucked in a breath. Beneath the eyes, a red fiery glow unlike anything she had ever seen before pulsated from the animal’s chest.
What in the Highworld is that? Whatever it is, it’s big, and I need to be as far from it as possible.

Hoping not to arouse the animal’s hunting instinct, she continued to move away, one small step at a time. Fortunately, the animal did not pursue her and she made it back to camp unhurt but shaken—both by the scare and the knowledge that her loved ones were lost to her.

Cael stood when he saw her. “Why did you run? Are you all right?”

She nodded and sat down next to the fire.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, I’m fine. The thought of Pyraan upset me, that’s all.”

“Pyraan is a sad part of Massan history, but frankly I know very little else about what goes on outside of Lewstin. Very few of us are allowed to leave.”

She looked up at him. “Not allowed? How can anyone force you to stay somewhere you don’t wish to be?”

He turned his eyes from her. “The Duke of Lewstin has his ways, I told you that.”

Kiernan recalled the scars on his back. “Is he your liege lord?”

“No, he is the son of our liege.” He spat on the ground. “But, the Duke has full reign over the town and the mines.”

“Do you have a family there?”

“A daughter. My wife died two years ago.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, but if the town is as bad as you say, there must be some way you can leave.”

“There isn’t and if you insist on coming with me, you will have to keep your head down and do as you’re told.”

Not likely.

He sat beside her, reached for her hand and squeezed it tight. The firelight danced across his handsome features making him look young. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“I’ll be fine. I promise.”

His free hand came up and stroked the side of her face. “You are so beautiful, Larkin.”

Kiernan swallowed, remembering when Beck Atlan told her the same after seeing her in her blue dress all those years ago. She started to pull away from Cael, but found herself wondering how much loyalty she owed to an old childhood memory and a man who was in all likelihood dead.

Cael gently tugged at the knot in her hair. “I want to see your hair down.”

She stopped him by wrapping her fingers around his wrist. “I want you to cut it off.”

He looked at her aghast. “Why would you want to do such a thing?”

“I just want it off,” she pleaded, anxious to shed the last vestiges of what made her Kiernan Everard. With her hair gone, she truly would be Larkin Malley, a scullery maid from Nysa, and she could move on with a new life in Lewstin.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, please.”

He caught her eyes in his and held them. What he saw there must have convinced him. He stood and rummaged in the wagon for a few moments before returning with a straight razor. “I don’t know how good this is going to look.”

“Just do it.”

He knelt behind her. With a tender hand, he untied the knot in her hair and spread it out to flow over her shoulders. Taking a portion of her blonde tresses in his hand, he sliced away the first large clump.

She started to cry. Terrible, wrenching sobs that grew louder with each cut. Every strand drifting to the ground taking another piece of her with it.