Honor's Price (22 page)

Murdoch nodded, his face flushed red.

“Sir Duncan, when it comes to the final battle, your lady will need you at her side.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Everyone stood frozen as the gods spoke to each of the Damned in turn. But instead of disappearing back into the water, they both turned to face Sigil directly. Speaking as one, they said, “Captain, we accept your unspoken pledge to serve our cause. Adding your strength to that of our chosen avatars will help turn the tide against your former master. Serve us well, and what was done in his name will be washed clean from your soul.”

At first Sigil could do naught but stare at the two shimmering figures and nod. Finally, he found his tongue. “Thank you, my Lord and Lady, for allowing me the honor of serving with your warriors. I will proudly stand with them and share their fate, whatever it may be.”

Someone gasped; he thought it might be Murdoch, but he could be wrong about that. Perhaps the Damned thought him foolish for offering to stand judgment with them at the end of their service on the solstice, but he meant every word. Despite the huge gaps in his memory, he knew he'd never served with men more deserving of his loyalty and friendship.

The Lady spoke again, “Captain Gideon, do you formally accept this warrior as a Warrior of the Mist?”

Gideon's pale gaze met Sigil's head-on. “I do, my lady, and am honored to so.”

She tipped her head to the side in acceptance. “Then so shall it be.”

The Lord had the last word. “Time grows short, Warriors. May your swords win the day.”

His words seemed to hover in the air even as the pair slowly disappeared back into the rippling water in the bowl. Everyone remained where they were until Lady Lavinia finally stepped back from the bowl. She picked it up and carefully carried it over to pour the water on the nearest rosebushes.

When she was done, everyone else started moving again. The three ladies took their leave, perhaps sensing the four men needed a few minutes alone. Sigil didn't
know about the other three, but right now he needed to sit down, the import of what he'd just done hitting him hard.

He tried to walk with dignity but wasn't all that steady as he headed for the nearby bench. As soon as he sat down, Gideon drew his knife and held it sideways in front of Sigil's eyes. What was he doing? Then he realized the man was offering the blade as a mirror.

Sigil stared at the reflection of his own face, familiar in all but one aspect. His eyes were now a match to the three pairs of pale-as-death eyes staring down at him with an odd mix of pride and sympathy in their depths.

He needed to say something, anything, but what? He settled for, “Someone has to keep an eye on Murdoch. I figured it might as well be me.”

For the first time all morning, the other three Damned grinned, even Murdoch. Gideon held out his hand to Sigil. “Thank you for taking on that particular chore. It's been quite a burden for the rest of us all these years.”

Sigil was at a disadvantage, sitting down with the three warriors towering over him. He shook Gideon's hand and then stood up. “Mayhap I should rethink my offer.”

Murdoch's smile took on a harder edge. “Too late, my friend. Go get some sleep, and this afternoon the four of us will learn during sword practice which of us is the real burden to the group.”

Feeling prouder than he had in a long time, Sigil agreed. “I look forward to it.”

Still feeling a bit shaky, he made his way to his quarters, hoping to catch a few hours of sleep. As soon as he stepped into the room, he sensed something was different. The air smelled fresh and damp, as if he were standing beside a mountain stream rather than in a small room inside a stone keep.

But even more amazing, there was a shield on his bed, a match for the ones Murdoch and the others carried. He cautiously approached the bed, the tingle of magic growing stronger with each step he took.

A feminine voice whispered in his mind.
“Warrior, this is our gift to you as one of our avatars. His name is Otsoko. He, too, has the fierce heart of a warrior who needs to redeem himself.”

Then she added a few words, ones that rang with power. When she repeated them a second time, it felt as if she were carving them into Sigil's skull with a dull knife. The pain faded as quickly as it had come, but the words remained shiny bright in Sigil's thoughts. He knew without asking that the Lady had gifted him with the means to call forth his new companion.

He whispered the words, careful to say each one just as the goddess had. He knew not what language they came from nor the meaning behind any of the words. All that mattered was that their magic worked. When nothing happened, he tried again, this time speaking them with more confidence.

A flash of light had him belatedly throwing his arm up to shield his eyes. He kept his eyes closed as he waited for his vision to clear. In the meantime, the bed creaked as something heavy jumped down onto the floor.

He immediately opened his eyes, his heart pounding hard. An enormous gray wolf stood staring back at him with bright amber eyes. Under other circumstances, Sigil would have been terrified, but his heart knew this animal was no threat to him.

He knelt down, bringing himself down to eye level with the wolf. “Hello, Otsoko. I am called Sigil.”

When Sigil held out his hand, the wolf took a step forward to first sniff it and then gave it a quick lick. That small success had Sigil feeling more daring. He stroked the thick fur on the wolf's neck and back. Evidently he was doing something right because Otsoko immediately turned to give Sigil easier access.

After giving his new avatar a good scratching, Sigil pushed himself back up to his feet. “I'm sorry, my friend, but I've been up for far too long and need to sleep. Once
I've rested, I'll show you around the keep and introduce you to the goddess's other warriors.”

The wolf actually nodded, as if understanding every word. Sigil carefully set the shield aside and stretched out on the bed. Otsoko waited until Sigil was settled and then jumped up to curl at his feet.

What an eventful day! Seeing the gods appear in the water. Swearing an oath to them that made him one of the Warriors of the Mist. His eyes changing colors. And now, most wondrous of them all, he had his own avatar. The warmth of the big wolf's head on his ankles soothed away the last bit of Sigil's tension, and he drifted off to sleep.

T
heda watched Ifre closely. He was clearly agitated, his gaze never lingering on one person for more than a few seconds, his hands constantly in motion. His excitement only confirmed her worst fears. The bastard was acting like a small child gloating over a new toy, one he didn't want to share.

She wished he would drop dead right where he sat at the head table. If that was evil of her, she didn't care. Tonight she would do everything she could to snatch at least one victim from Ifre's clutches.

Once the evening meal was over, she would bring Ifre his last drink as she always did. She already had it poured and ready to serve. An hour after he consumed it, he would get a headache that would render him unable to do more than crawl into his bed for the night.

Everyone knew the duke was given to such episodes; no one would question him succumbing to yet another one. Her only fear was that somehow his magic would warn him that his wine had more than the usual spices in it.

“What about your brother-in-law has captured your attention tonight, Lady Theda? Normally, you ignore him as much as you possibly can.”

She glanced at Markus with disdain. “I am merely waiting to serve him his favorite wine, not that it is any of your business. He doesn't like to be kept waiting.”

“It is wise of you to avoid provoking him. He is not a man I would willingly cross.”

The sergeant's response surprised her. Normally he
would have taunted her and treated her with casual disrespect. Instead, he looked particularly grim as he stared across the room to where Ifre sat laughing with one of the nobles. What had happened to change his attitude toward the duke?

Could it be that he knew something about Kane's fate? Not that it mattered. Even if he did, he would never do anything to help. She noted the servants had started to clear the tables. That was her signal to serve the spiced wine.

“If you'll excuse me, Sergeant, I have duties that require my attention.”

“Lady Theda,” Markus called after her.

She looked back over her shoulder. “Was there something you needed?”

He started to speak but then shook his head. “It is nothing.”

Then he walked away, disappearing into the crowd. How very odd. But rather than pursue the matter, she picked up Ifre's wine and put her plan into motion.

*   *   *

The gods were with her. It had taken longer than she expected for the spiced wine to take effect, but finally Ifre had withdrawn to his quarters. His manservant had been dispatched to fetch the physician, who arrived promptly and then left again within minutes. She hoped that meant that no one was questioning the source of Ifre's pain.

Next, Ifre's secretary had made a general announcement that the duke was going to spend the evening in his quarters. With luck, that meant the doctor had dosed Ifre with a pain medication that would keep him abed until morning.

Praying she was right, Theda had sent her ladies to their rooms with orders for them to remain there until morning. Having done what she could to keep them safe, she had retired to her own quarters to wait until she could safely escape the keep without drawing unwanted attention to herself. To occupy her mind while she
waited, she put together a small pack of bandages and salves. If Kane was injured, he would need his wounds tended to before he could ride for freedom.

Wearing her darkest gown and cloak, she made her way to the garden. How she wished Kane would appear, safe and sound, but that wasn't going to happen. At least, not without her help. She headed for his quarters, hoping and praying that she would be able to call forth Hob without trouble.

Creeping from shadow to shadow, she approached the barracks and slipped through the door. Inside, all was quiet except for the pounding of her heart. She prayed it wasn't as loud as it sounded to her, but there was nothing she could do to control her racing pulse or the fear that followed in her footsteps.

The shield was right where she'd last seen it. She quickly packed up Kane's few possessions in the saddlebags she found stashed under the bed.

He'd want the shield, but she would need to drape it with his cloak to hide its bright white surface after she called Hob. The packing done, she wiped her hands on her skirts and pulled out the small piece of paper Kane had given her with the words of the chant written down. She traced the words with a fingertip, savoring the small connection with the warrior.

The night was quickly passing. If she was going to do this, now was the time. She read the words aloud. As soon as she said the last one, she shaded her eyes against the light and waited until she heard Hob snuffling around the room before opening them again.

“Hob, we have to find him.”

But before going after Kane, she had to saddle his horse so he could make his escape. She gathered up the saddlebags and the shield and led Hob to the stable. Once they were inside, Hob headed right for a stall in the far corner. Inside was the enormous gray stallion she'd seen Kane riding. The horse stirred restlessly as she
approached until Hob scooted underneath the door to exchange sniffs with him.

The stallion immediately calmed, evidently accepting her as a friend if Hob vouched for her. She set Kane's packs and shield down inside the stall before quickly backing out. “I'll find your tack.”

Hob came with her. It was impossible to see anything in the tack room. “How am I supposed to find Kane's saddle?”

She had directed the question to Hob, but it was a man who materialized out of the shadows who answered. “It's the one right in front of you.”

He quickly clamped his hand down over her mouth before she could scream. Hob growled low but made no move to attack.

Her captor snarled right back. “Shut up, Hob. I have enough problems right now without arguing with you.”

The stranger knew Hob? Was he here also hunting for Kane? She forced herself to relax, hoping he would interpret it as a signal that she wouldn't do anything that would draw unwanted attention to them.

“Good. I'm going to release you now.”

As soon as he did, he stepped back and lit a nearby lamp. “I would know your name.”

Hob immediately sat down at her feet. She reached down to pat his head, drawing comfort from his staunch support. “I am Lady Theda. And you are?”

“Averel, a friend of Kane's.” He glared down at the gargoyle. “I can't believe that miserable beast is letting you pet him. He's not a trusting soul.”

“Kane introduced us.” She took a chance and added, “He also taught me how to call Hob from his shield.”

That clearly shocked Averel. “I didn't even know that was possible. Where is Kane? How badly hurt is he?”

She still wasn't quite ready to trust this man. “How did you know he was hurt?”

When he raised his tunic, she gasped. His chest was covered in faint red streaks. “What happened to you?”

“Nothing, and that's the problem. They've faded, but when I woke up this morning my body was covered with painful welts. Somehow I was feeling everything Kane was.”

She should have guessed the young knight and Kane were more than merely friends. “You're not a simple troubadour at all, are you? You're a Warrior of the Mist just like Kane.”

“He said he'd told you about us.” Averel smiled at her, apparently not upset by Kane's decision to reveal their secrets.

It was time to tell him everything. Her eyes burned with tears. “My brother-in-law, Duke Keirthan, has captured Kane and taken him to his private chambers below the keep. Hob and I are going to break Kane free.”

“Let me get Kane's horse saddled first, and then you show me where the duke's chambers are. We'll need to be ready to leave as soon as he's free.”

Averel pulled the saddle down and headed back toward the stallion. “This won't take long, provided Rogue cooperates. Kane likes to surround himself with contrary beasts.”

The disgust in Averel's voice finally convinced her that he was indeed the troubadour Kane told her about. Despite the seriousness of the situation, she couldn't resist tweaking the young knight a bit. “Hob, I think we've just been insulted.”

Averel looked horrified. “I was talking about Hob and Rogue, my lady, not you.”

When she laughed, he looked chagrined but smiled back. “All right. I suppose that did sound bad. My apologies.”

As he finished tightening the cinch on Rogue's saddle, it occurred to her that one horse couldn't carry two grown men very far. “Do you have your own mount? If not, you are welcome to take mine.”

Averel patted Rogue on the shoulder as he left the stall. “My mare is saddled and waiting for me not far from here. I didn't want to risk drawing the attention of the duke's guards by riding here.”

Good. She liked that he was thinking ahead. She'd been worried about how Kane would fare if he was badly hurt and had to ride out on his own. Hob would be able to stand guard, but Kane might need continued care if he was going to make it back to his friends.

“We should go if we're going to get Kane away before daylight.”

When she picked up her pack and started for the door of the stable, Averel stopped her. “Lady Theda, Lord Kane would not soon forgive me if I allowed you to walk into danger for his sake. Show me the entrance to this chamber you spoke of, and I will see to his release.”

Theda's temper flared. “You have no right to decide what I am allowed to do. You may accompany me, but you will not be going alone. I will remind you that Hob and I were doing fine on our own. We had Kane's gear packed up and waiting, and I would have saddled Rogue as well.”

Then she played her winning card. “Besides, you have no idea where he is being held and cannot enter the keep without fear of rousing the guard. I can.”

She expected an argument, but Averel held up his hands in surrender, although he was clearly not happy. “As you said, the night grows short.”

She led the way back through the garden. At the edge, she studied their surroundings. All was quiet. “A friend will let us in that door. From that point, we'll have to tread carefully through the great hall to reach the entrance to Ifre's private chambers below the keep.”

Averel drew his sword but kept it down at his side. As soon as she knocked on the door, Tom opened it.

“I wondered if you were outside—,” he started to say but stopped when he spotted Averel standing behind her. “Who is he?”

“A friend, Tom. One who will not be staying long. It would be safer for all of us if you never saw him.”

She held her breath, hoping their friendship stretched far enough for Tom to turn a blind eye to an unknown warrior sneaking into the keep. It was asking a lot of him when it could cost him his life if anyone found out.

Finally, he nodded. “As long as you promise he'll be gone before dawn.”

“He will be. Thank you, Tom.”

Her friend walked away, disappearing into a nearby room. As soon as he was out of sight, she motioned for Averel and Hob to follow her. She took a roundabout route to the great hall, noting her two companions moved with the same predatory stealth as Kane.

When they reached the last turn before the passage opened up into the great hall, she motioned for Averel and Hob to wait while she scouted ahead. The two males clearly weren't happy to be left behind, even for that short time, but she'd have an easier time explaining her presence if she were to encounter anyone.

All was blessedly quiet, but then she noticed movement over near the front door, which should be locked this time of night. Sure enough, one of the guards was walking along the perimeter of the great hall and heading straight for her.

She retreated to where Averel stood waiting impatiently. “A guard,” she whispered. He nodded and followed after her.

The guard made no effort to move quietly, his boots ringing on the stone floor as he circled the room. She held her breath when he passed by the passageway where she and Averel stood. He paused briefly, cocking his head to one side as if listening to something. After a few seconds, he started forward again, his steps still methodical and slow.

How were they to reach the doorway without him noticing? It wasn't far, but the torches cast enough light to
banish all but the darkest shadows. There was no way he could miss them if they were to dart across the last distance.

Then he stopped and pulled out a wineskin and took a long drink. Averel caught her arm and leaned down to whisper, “I'll take care of him when he passes again.”

What could she do but nod, even though the man had done nothing to deserve death on this night?

He was coming around again. As soon as the guard passed by, Averel ghosted after him, wrapping his arm tightly around the man's throat. The guard struggled for several seconds, but then his body went slack.

Averel dragged him far enough into the passageway that he couldn't be easily seen from the great hall. He was still breathing. Good. If one of the other guards were to check on him, she hoped they would simply assume that he'd left his post to pay a visit to the garderobe. Averel arranged the guard's body to look as if he'd fallen asleep sitting down with his back to the wall. After spilling the wine, he returned to where Theda stood.

“Are you ready?”

She nodded and cut straight across to the door that Ifre was always careful to lock. He'd evidently forgotten that the former chatelaine of the keep had a set of keys to every door in the keep. Until now, she'd never been tempted to explore the labyrinth, but her late husband had told tales of him and Ifre exploring it when they were children. It had only been since Ifre had come to rule that the place was used for foul purposes.

The key worked, but the passage beyond it was shrouded in total darkness. Averel left her side long enough to fetch one of the torches burning in the hall. It did little to hold the shadows at bay, but her companions strode forth with no hesitation. She hurried after them, not wanting to be left behind.