Kingdom's Quest (6 page)

She stared at him blankly, and Gavinaugh wondered if perhaps she hadn't understood him.

“I will go with you,” she finally replied.

Gavinaugh looked at Weston, and he nodded his approval.

They trained the new Knights of the Prince for many days, and many men and women joined their ranks daily. The haven of Santiok became strong in the ways of the Code and of the Prince. Although Keanna was
always with them, and in particular with Gavinaugh, she did not warm to them in the least. She took it upon herself to care for their horses, and the only time Gavinaugh saw her soften was when she groomed Triumph. On one occasion, Gavinaugh caught Keanna staring at him with a countenance full of malice. She quickly diverted her eyes, which left Gavinaugh wondering. Later he made an attempt to talk to her, but a wall of bitterness surrounded her like an impenetrable fortress. He was confused as to why she chose to be with him throughout the day when she despised him so. He finally attributed it to the harsh life she had lived and was hopeful that over time she would come to accept the compassion of the Prince.

One day during a break in the training, Gavinaugh went to Triumph and found Keanna patting and talking softly to the horse. She did not notice him, and in that moment Gavinaugh saw Keanna in a way that opened his eyes to the beautiful creature she once was. The bruises and swelling had vanished, and for a moment there was a look of peace on her face. Although his intent was not to spy on her, he was oddly mesmerized by this rare moment of tenderness and by her true beauty. She happened to glance in his direction, and like the splash of a rock in a perfectly still pool of water, the reflection of beauty was gone in an instant. She scowled and was visibly angry at his observation of her. Triumph nickered and seemed to try and soothe her, but she stiffened and turned her back to Gavinaugh.

He walked over to Triumph. “I need to retrieve an item from my pack,” he said, slightly embarrassed.

She left him and returned to the training area. From that moment on, Keanna seemed to avoid Gavinaugh and even stopped coming to the training of the knights—but she did not leave them.

Upon their return to Turner's home a few weeks later, Gavinaugh and Weston discussed their next course of action.

“These men are ready to be on their own,” Gavinaugh said.

“Yes, I agree,” Weston replied. “The heart of the Prince is strong within them.”

“We must return here again to encourage them, but there are others who need to hear of the Prince.”

“Where to now?”

Gavinaugh smiled at his friend. “You have been away from your family for many weeks, my friend. I plan to travel north to Penwell, but you should return to your family.”

“I do miss them terribly. Cresthaven is not far off the road to Penwell. Will you come and have a meal with us at least? The children would love to see you again,” Weston said.

Gavinaugh smiled as he thought of the tender little faces of Addy and Keaton. He nodded his approval.

The following morning, Gavinaugh, Weston, and Keanna left Santiok for Cresthaven. Toward evening, they set up camp at the base of a small waterfall near the edge of the woods. They were tired from the day's journey. The stillness of the night and the soothing sound of the waterfall welcomed them to rest. After building a fire and eating some of their provisions, Gavinaugh and Weston retired to their bedrolls, but Keanna did not seem to yield to her weariness. Weston fell asleep at once, and as Gavinaugh drowsed, the edge of his mind felt a vague surprise at seeing Keanna sitting by the fire, seemingly waiting for something. But then sleep overtook him.

THE EXECUTIONER

Keanna waited long into the night, all the while calling the memories of her anguished past to the forefront of her mind, for the fire of vengeance burned hot within her heart. The bitterness she harbored in her marrow had changed her over time into the angry young woman she was today. For years, she had only dreamed of vengeance—until a few weeks ago, when she saw Gavinaugh at the slave auction in Santiok.

Keanna quietly rose from her bed. The slight rustling of the leaves and grass beneath her feet was lost in the gentle sound of the waterfall nearby. The turmoil in her soul rose bitterly as she remembered the heartless murder of her parents and the cries of terror from her younger siblings. She considered the light of the full moon a gift, for she wanted to see the face of the one who had brought such pain to her life.

Gavinaugh was lying on his back with a blanket covering his body. It seemed too perfect—his sword and long-knife were right beside him. Keanna went to him, knelt down, and grasped the long-knife. The handle felt good in her hand, and the fury in her heart was satisfying. She looked at the face of Gavinaugh and married his image with the image of her murdered parents. She lifted the knife high above her head, poised for the strike that would appease her desire for vengeance.
She searched for the perfect target, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath. He had pierced her heart with sorrow, and now she would pierce his with his own blade. She tightened all of her muscles. Gavinaugh stirred, and she froze. His hand moved beneath the blanket, and he scratched his neck. The hand returned to his side, pulling the blanket off his chest, and he was still once again.

Keanna slowly released her breath. In that moment, the reality of taking the life of another stunned her, and she hesitated. She had wounded other masters before, but always in self-defense. This was different. She steeled herself against inner petitions of mercy and readied her blade once again. There was his heart, but the light of the full moon now revealed something she had not seen earlier. With the blanket off his chest, the emblem of the Prince was now as clear as a banner atop a castle wall. Her blade would have to first pierce the mark of the Prince before penetrating the heart of her nemesis. Gavinaugh's words of the Prince seemed to resonate in her mind, and she could not make them go away … words of love, compassion, and mercy. She hated the words and yet was drawn to them.

Her grip on vengeance loosened and she wavered. Her muscles began to ache, as did her heart. She looked up to the stars to forget the image on Gavinaugh's chest, but it was engraved in her mind as a backdrop to the strange story of a man who seemed to change the hearts of others. She fought against the possibility that this man's heart had truly changed. Her eyes filled with tears as the war within her soul culminated. In a final charge of defiance, she plunged the knife downward toward her victim.

Keanna rose up and ran into the woods, not waiting to see the outcome of her action. She fled the pain—the memories—and now she fled the Prince. She ran, but there was no place to hide. Tears of torment rose up like a flood, and she could not control the deep sobbing that swelled within her bosom. She ran until she was swallowed up by the trees in the woods. The yellow light of the moon fell upon a large, jagged
rock in a small clearing, and she collapsed beside it. She wondered at the purpose of such a cruel life and wished her existence would end.

“Gavinaugh!” Weston exclaimed. The hilt of the long-knife stood straight, proclaiming the actions of the executioner.

Gavinaugh blinked and wiped away the fog of sleep.

“What is it?” he asked groggily.

Weston pointed, and Gavinaugh turned to see his long-knife plunged deep into the earth beside his chest. The rush within his muscles snapped him into full consciousness in an instant. He reached for his sword and searched for the enemy.

“Who?” he asked. He was grateful that his life was still his own.

“I don't know, but Keanna is missing!”

Gavinaugh quickly rose up and felt fear rise in his heart. “No!” he exclaimed. “Why would they take her and not kill us?”

Weston shook his head. “I don't know. They can't be far, though, for her bed is still warm.”

Gavinaugh became fierce. He had felt responsible for Keanna ever since meeting her weeks earlier at the slave auction. Though she had shown no tenderness at all toward him, he could not deny that his sense of obligation as her protector was transcended at times by something deeper. He fastened his sword.

“We
must
find her!” he exclaimed.

“Yes, but where do we look, and how many will we face?” Weston said.

They searched the ground surrounding their camp and found no sign of a struggle. Gavinaugh was thankful for the light of the moon, but searching at night proved difficult.

“There are no tracks in the bank of the stream,” Gavinaugh said. “You search downstream and I'll search up.”

Weston nodded. The men separated, and Gavinaugh desperately
searched for a sign that would indicate the direction taken by Keanna's captors. He followed the stream for a bit and then patterned his search until he found a spot where the tree branches were pushed slightly apart. He knelt beside a single set of footprints in the green moss of the forest floor. The direction was clear, but Gavinaugh was very confused.
There are no other footprints … Did she flee from her captors?
He looked down at his knife, and an inconceivable thought began to enter his mind.

It was quiet here, away from the stream and the waterfall. Gavinaugh stared back at the footprints and placed his hand within the indentation.

“Where are you, Keanna?” he whispered to himself, still not certain if there were enemies nearby.

Gavinaugh heard the faint sounds of weeping filtering through the woods, and he recognized the delicate voice of Keanna. He rose up and quickened his pace to find her. He drew his sword as he came closer. Her sobbing was deep, and his apprehension grew. He searched the surroundings in all directions as he approached, but there were no enemies.

He came to her in a clearing, where she was doubled over beside a large, jagged rock. He knelt on one knee beside her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Keanna screamed and recoiled from his touch. She backed into the rock behind her.

“Don't touch me!” she shouted between sobs. Tears streamed down her face.

He looked at her, bewildered. She stared back, and Gavinaugh saw the torment of her heart in her face.

“What happened. Are you hurt?” he asked tenderly. “Why did you leave me … why?” she asked.

Gavinaugh was even further confused. “What do you mean? I have been near you since we met.”

“No! You left me to those animals that killed my parents. You could have saved all of us, but you turned away … you left me to those … those … murderers! I hate you!” Keanna buried her face in her hands and wept even harder.

As lightning explodes across the sky, an image of a mud-covered, terrified girl running toward him on the road to Cartelbrook long ago before flashed across his mind's eye. His heart sank in painful remorse as he realized that Keanna was that girl. Only now did he understand that he had abandoned her to the brutish Shadow Warriors because she was an Outdweller. He lowered his head and felt ashamed as he once again faced the pain of his former life as a Noble Knight.