An Oath Of The Kings (Book 4) (7 page)

The darkness descended out of nowhere and Kiernan realized she had been out on her ride longer than she intended. Chirping birds, buzzing insects, croaking frogs—all the ambient sounds of the Grayan Forest—had lulled her racing thoughts into a welcome calm and she had lost all track of time. Now, though, gray shadows crept closer to the path she rode and whispered cloyingly through the branches overhead. The creatures had all gone quiet, and a sudden sense of unease formed in her chest.

She turned Bluebell around and kicked her into a trot, anxious now to return to the city.

Up ahead, she noticed a fallen log on the path that had not been there previously. She looked at it curiously and prepared to go around. That was when the first silhouette took shape in between the trees on the right. Whether animal or human, she couldn’t tell, but it began to keep pace with her, slithering effortlessly through the dense forest. A hint of motion at the corner of her left eye swung her head the other way and another figure appeared. Then, another.

A surge of adrenaline shot straight to her heart. “Git!” She slapped Bluebell’s rump with her hand, startling the mare into a frightened jump over the log and then into a panicked run. Shoulder blades itching in dread of an assassin’s arrow, Kiernan slumped low in the saddle, silently urging the horse faster.

In her terror, she inadvertently guided the horse too close to the edge of the woods and cried out when a low-hanging limb struck her shoulder and almost knocked her to the ground. Bluebell started to slow, but Kiernan scrambled back into the saddle and slapped the reins.
Go, Bluebell, go!

Her thoughts only on escape, she flew forward on the dim path. The trees on either side flew by in a hazy smear. When another branch clipped her arm, she decided to give Bluebell her head, hoping the mare could see the trail better than she could.

It worked.

Within moments, a faint light appeared and the shadows gave way to the moonlit grassy plains outside of Nysa. Dirt flying from the horse’s hooves, she burst from the forest at a treacherous sprint.

The bright fires of the marketplace glittered in the distance and she raced for them. She tossed a quick glance over her shoulder and saw no signs of pursuit, but she was too frightened now to slow. It wasn’t until she reached the first of the merchant stalls that she finally sat up in the saddle and reined in the winded mare.

A heavy sigh slipped from her lips, but her heart still thudded uncontrollably. She raised the hood of her cloak and disappeared into the throng of shoppers, winding her way along the rutted lanes that separated the booths.

In the familiar clamor of the marketplace and with the slowing of her heart, she had to wonder if she had imagined the shadows. Had her exhausted state from both the funeral and the swords ceremony twisted the innocuous into something more sinister? Had she grown so used to monsters in every corner? Or could it simply have been her
Dagarmon
guard trailing her?

By the time she arrived at the city gates, she had convinced herself that her life had never really been in danger.
A chuckle with Beck and a good night’s rest is all I need to put this frightening experience behind me.

The gates were closed now, so she led Bluebell to the arched side door and presented herself to the guard. After declining an escort, she made her way through the deserted streets and skirted the palace courtyard for the royal stables.

Bluebell whinnied at sight of the building. Flickering lamplight illuminated a small patch of ground just outside of the stables, but the dark interior caused Kiernan to hesitate.
She listened intently for any sounds of movement before lifting a leg over Bluebell’s head and jumping down.

She reached for the saddle, but froze at an odd shuffling sound. She spun the dagger at her hip into her hand and twisted around. A mindshifted thought sprang to her tongue.

A bent figure rushed toward her.

“Your Grace! I’ve been waiting for you ever since you rode out hours ago!” An elderly groom in a scarlet coat hurried to take the reins of Bluebell.

Kiernan released her shifting and forced a smile to her face. “Thank you, Therman. I…I apologize that you had to wait so long.”

“Oh, no trouble at all.”

She drew a hand down Bluebell’s nose. “Take good care of her for me. I’ve been running her hard.”

“Of course, Your Grace,” he told her with a wink. “I’m glad you’re back safely.”

Leaving the groom to his work, Kiernan headed to the servants’ entrance at the rear of the palace, her mind whirling with all that needed to be done, starting with sending notice to the other lands of her father’s death. She also wanted to talk to Captain Bo Franck about sending scouts south to determine if Duncan Bartlett or Elinor Morningstar had bannermen on the move. She hoped it wouldn’t come down to armed conflict, but if her hand was forced, she would fight. She couldn’t allow murderers to secure the Crown.

The palace lights beckoned to her with the promise of succor and she sighed wishing she had taken Beck up on his offer to ride with her. But, after the aborted ceremony and running the beautiful Lady Stowe off her husband a
second
time, she needed the time alone.

From the darkened alcove of the castle wall, a Scarlet Saber peeled away from the shadows and came toward her. She lifted a hand in greeting, but then pulled up short.
The tunic is off.
No, not a tunic at all, but a plain black cloak.

The figure raised an arm and a flash of metal glinted off the moonlight, revealing the blade in his hand. A grunt issued forth as he whipped the weapon directly at her. Her breath caught in her throat as the knife meant to take her life stopped less than an inch from her face and hovered in the air.

A
Dagarmon
slid out of the shadows and stood in front of her. He flicked his wrist and the dagger fell to the cobblestone path with a metallic clink. His eyes never left the assassin as he said quietly, “I’m not sure how, but he is a Mage, Your Grace.” The tattooed
Dagarmon
snorted. “A new Mage who is still more comfortable using weaponry than sorcery.”

The assassin ignored the taunt and rushed forward, mumbling a spell this time.

The
Dagarmon
pushed Kiernan to the ground and threw up his hands to issue a counterspell. The two Mages managed to avoid each other’s deadly sorcery and crashed together in a blur of black cloaks, hands and knives.

Kiernan scrambled to her feet and watched the violent struggle helplessly. There was nothing she could do with the two men entangled so closely.

The fight ended mere seconds later.

Both were down, one on top of the other.

The man on the bottom pushed the other off and the body rolled listlessly over on his back, blood seeping through the shirt on his chest.

The
Dagarmon
.

Kiernan looked down in horror at the tattooed face, slack now in death, realizing she never even knew her protector’s name.

Slowly, she backed away as the killer rose to his feet. She unlaced her cloak and let it fall to the ground. Her dagger had already found its way into her hand, but the meager weapon felt woefully inadequate against a Mage.

He rushed her then, closing the distance between them.

I can’t let him get his hands on me!
She held her dagger out in front of her and mindshifted.
Stop!

The thought slammed into the Mage with all the strength of her pureblood power at the same time he grabbed her head and unleashed the killing curse with a furious roar, “
Morbendi!
”

****

Beck’s eyes popped open and he jerked awake sending the Protetor to the floor with a hollow thud. Disorientation gripped him until he realized that he must have fallen asleep reading the Mage handbook.

Some days he wondered if he would ever finish the bloody thing. He had owned the book for over twenty years and still hadn’t read all that it contained. He discovered quite by accident that tapping on certain words brought up entire new sections of related content.

With a yawn, he turned to the side surprised to see that Kiernan was not in bed. Darkened skies told him that she should have been back by now.
Knowing her, she’s down in the War Room discussing accession strategy with the captains.
Although the day’s events had been distressing for her, he felt confident that his wife would prevail. He actually felt a stab of pity for the idiot nobles who thought to challenge her.

Beck threw aside the blanket, stood from the bed and went to the door to his chambers. A Scarlet Saber stood just outside. “Find the Princess for me. She’ll either be in the War Room or the stables.”

The Scarlet Saber nodded and hurried away.  

Beck closed the door and went back into the bedroom. He picked the Protetor off the floor and sat on the edge of the bed.
What had I been looking for, anyway?
Ah, yes, that fish experimentation of Gil’s still bothered him and he wanted to know how the Mage accomplished the spell so he would be able to spot further tests in the future.

His eyebrows twitched mischievously. Maybe he should also research truth serums so he could find out who killed Maximus. He snorted and quickly dismissed the idea. A fine line separated what the people of Massa would and would not accept from sorcery, and Beck often felt like a tightrope walker as he negotiated the razor’s edge of all that was possible.

Yawning once again, he lay back on the bed and closed his eyes.

All of a sudden, the mattress sank beneath the weight of something that had leapt onto the bed and then onto his chest. He opened his eyes and hissed in shock at the black feline sitting atop him. Yellow eyes narrowed to slits stared back at him from a sleek, whiskered face, tail swishing lazily against his body.

Beck sat up, embarrassed at his frightened reaction and the animal jumped to the floor.

The air shimmered and the black cat shifted into human form. A very naked human form.

Beck paled at the sight. “Good Highworld, woman, put some clothes on!”

“I am a bodyshifter, Your Grace,” the woman said matter-of-factly. “I cannot very well carry clothes on my back.”

“There’s a robe over there!” Beck yelled, waving his hand in the general direction of a chair, his eyes quite forcefully averted.

He stood from the bed and thrust his arms into a shirt. When he felt enough time had passed, he turned. Lady Mila Stowe stood before him wrapped in his robe.
If Kiernan enters this room right now, I may never survive the night.
Unfortunately, he needed answers that only Mila could provide. “Well? Were you there when it happened?” he questioned, getting right to the point.

Her midnight-blue eyes held remorse. “Yes, but it happened so fast, Your Grace, there was nothing I could do. The assassin killed Sevant Kree and attacked the King before I even knew he was in the room.”

“That is what I don’t understand. How did he manage to get by Sevant?”

“The King’s assassin was a sorcerer.”

Beck felt the blood rush to his head. “A sorcerer? You must be mistaken.”

“I saw him.”

“A Mage who can kill an innocent simply does not exist.”

“Um…does the Mage War ring a bell, Your Grace? How about the Demon War?”

He shook his head. “Back then, yes, but not now!”

“Now, too. It was a Mage, Your Grace.”

“Why didn’t you come to me sooner with this?”

She threw her hands in the air. “Because of your wife! I tried, but she wouldn’t let me within sight of you!”

Beck speared a hand through his hair. She was right. He didn’t think much of it at the time, but Kiernan did seem to always be there to interrupt whenever Mila tried to talk to him. “What you’re telling me is impossible, Mila. The
Dagarmon
cannot kill innocent people.”

“I don’t think it was a
Dagarmon
.”

“Now, you’re confusing me even more.”

“Are all the
Dagarmon
tattooed?”

He nodded. “Yes. Without exception.”

“The killer wasn’t.”

“Then, he wasn’t Mage. Only the
Dagarmon
are Mage.”

“I heard him cast a spell!”

“What did he say?”

“Div…diverge or something like that.”

“Divergia?”

“Yes, that’s it.”

Try as he might, Beck couldn’t make sense of anything Mila was telling him. He rubbed his jaw. “Then what?”

“I was in animal form, but I shifted as soon as I knew what he was and killed him before he could get away.”

“I need to see the body,” he said in excitement, moving toward the door. “Take me to him.”

“I can’t.” At his questioning look, she said, “It disappeared. After I killed him, I went to retrieve one of my soldiers to help dispose of the body and when we got back, it was gone.”