Kingmaker's Sword (Rune Blades of Celi) (42 page)

I had frightened her badly. Twice. Her reaction was to ignite like a pine torch. “You imbecile,” she cried. “Don’t you know anything? Of course you didn’t see any change. You were inside the stupid spell. What did you think—” She broke off abruptly. She shot a glance at my sword still lying on the ground beside the bedroll, then looked at me again, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You were trying a masking spell?”

“Well, we need some disguise if we’re going to go bounding around Maedun tracking down the General,” I said.

She brought up her finger and shook it under my nose. “Don’t you go trying to sidetrack me that way, you asinine barbarian idiot,” she said in a dangerous voice. “
You
were working magic? You?”

I sighed. “Aye,” I said. “Me.”

“Celae magic?”

“Ye might say so.”

She stood there for a moment, seething and fizzing with barely suppressed fury. I expected her to explode about my ears like a batch of chestnuts in a fire. Instead, she made a visible effort to take herself in hand, and looked up at me, eyes narrowed.

“You had best explain yourself, Kian dav Leydon,” she said quietly. “And quickly.”

“I expect I’d best had,” I agreed.

I led her back to the bedroll and sat down. She hesitated for a moment, then sat beside me. It took a while, but I told her what had happened nearly a fortnight ago when I stood vigil with Cullin, and what I had seen in the crystal the next morning. She listened without interrupting. When I finished, she said nothing. For a moment, she just sat there, staring at the fire. Finally, still without a word, she got up and walked into the shadows of the trees around us.

She was gone a long time. When she finally came back, I was sitting cross-legged on the bedroll with a warmed up cup of tea. She sat beside me, drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them.

“You didn’t know until then?” she said softly.

“No.”

She glanced at me. “Do you remember her at all now?”

“A little. More every day, it seems. And him, too.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before this?”

“I was going to,
sheyala
. But somehow, the time never seemed right.”

“I should box your ears,” she said with patient resignation.

“Quite probably.”

Unexpectedly, she laughed. “This
bheancoran
looks likely to end up marrying her prince after all,” she said.

“No,
sheyala
,” I said. “Not if you plan on marrying me.”

She jerked as if I had hit her. “You won’t come to Celi?” she asked, dismay and shock clear in her voice. “But—”

I shook my head. “I didna say I would not go to Celi,” I said. “I merely said I would not be a prince.”

She eeled around so that she knelt in front of me. “But you’re Kyffen’s grandson,” she said, her face troubled. “You
have
to be his heir.”

I shook my head again. “No, I don’t have to be his heir,” I said. “Kerri, I’ve no training to be a prince. At the time when princes are learning the art of governing men, I was cleaning out stables. While a prince’s heir is learning diplomacy and proper manners, I was living half-wild in slave quarters. I’ve no talent for it, nor do I have the inclination.”

“But—”

“
Sheyala
, Skai isn’t my country. Celi isn’t my country. They aren’t home. Tyra is home. I can’t think of myself as being Celae, or even yrSkai. I’m a Tyr. I’ll always be a Tyr. You can’t have a Tyr as Prince of Skai. It wouldna be right.”

“But you are Celae, though,” she said. “Through your mother.”

“But I’ve never known Celi, nor Skai either.” I looked away for a moment. “Cullin could have done it,” I said. “All that flaming nobility of his was ingrained so deeply into him, it was more than just a part of him. He could have been a prince. I can’t.”

“I’ve seen you act like that, too, Kian. It’s part of you, too.”

I shook my head. “No,
sheyala
. With me, it was always just an act. A part I played. Like a cloak I put on when I needed it.”

“But—”

I reached out and put a finger over her lips to silence her. “If I have to, I’ll stand regent for the heir,” I said. “I think I can do that much. There is another heir, remember.”

She settled back onto her heels, biting her lip thoughtfully. “Keylan,” she said at last.

“Keylan,” I agreed. “And he’s young enough to be properly trained in all he has to know.” I grinned at her. “That’s why I wanted you to stay at the Clanhold while I tracked down the General. Even if I didn’t come back, you’d have your princeling. Medroch would have told you.”

She glared at me. “You really are an idiot,” she said. “Do you think I would have let you go alone anyway? Kian dav Leydon, you have a skull thicker than two short planks, and you’re only slightly brighter...”

I hooked my hand behind her head and pulled her forward to kiss her. It shut her up immediately. It was a technique I would have to remember for future use.

Kerri drew back after a moment and smiled sweetly at me. “And don’t start thinking this is changing my mind,” she said softly. “You are still a thickheaded dolt at times, and I consider it my bound duty to inform you of that fact as needed.”

I met her gaze levelly. “This bond,” I said at last. “Does it allow you to read my mind, too?”

“Men are not difficult to read,” she said. “And you especially.”  She put her hand behind my head. “Now. Where were we?”

***

Three days later, we stood on the high flank of a mountain, looking out over the vast plain of Maedun. Below us, the mountains ended as suddenly as if a blow from Gerieg’s Hammer had fractured the bones of the range of crags and spread them flat like bacon drippings on bread. I had only twice been in Maedun, and neither journey had been pleasant. A suspicious and unfriendly lot, the Maeduni, when it came to strangers.

Kerri raised a hand to brush back a stray wisp of hair from her eyes. “It even looks darker out there,” she said quietly. “Jeriad told me there were no more than ten families in all Maedun who had sorcerous ability. Not really that many.”

“More than enough,” I said, “if they’re all like the General.”

She shuddered. “I wonder if they all know how to steal another’s magic.”

“I would think not,” I said. “I can’t see the General sharing that secret with anyone else. He wants all the power for himself.”

“He must be quite mad,” she said slowly. “He frightens me, Kian. He frightens me more than anything else I’ve ever encountered in my life.”

Rhuidh nudged me in the back and I reached behind me to shove his nose away, then realized he was nowhere near me. He stood beside Kerri’s mare, contentedly cropping grass several metres upslope. Another distinct nudge, pushing me a step or two south. I put my hand up to the hilt of the sword.

“Now what do you want?” I muttered irritably.

Kerri looked at me, surprised. “What?”

“Not you,” I said. “This stupid sword.”

“The sword?”

I drew the sword and held it in front of me. An aura of volatile colour flashed and flared around the blade and the distinct harp and bell notes sang in the air around me, nearly visible in their crystal clarity. The vibration travelled quickly into my hands, up my arms into my chest. Slowly, gently, the sword drew me around.

South. It pulled me south.

I made an irritated noise and tried to turn east again. But the sword was implacable. It wanted to go south.

“Confound you,” I muttered. “You ridiculous, ill-crafted, miserable chunk of tin. Why can’t you make up your mind?”

“What is it?” Kerri watched the sword in fascination. “What does it want?”

“It wants to go south now,” I said, exasperated. “It kicked up such a fuss about going east, and now we’re going east, this ridiculous, misbegotten slice of misery wants to go south. South!”

“Kian—”

“Tcha-a-a-a.” I slammed the sword back into its sheath.

“Kian, perhaps the sword knows where the General is better than we do. Perhaps it’s showing us where to find him.”

I looked at her blankly.

“It led us northeast before,” she said. “Maybe it knows we have to eliminate the threat he poses before we can go home.”

I thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “It could be,” I said slowly. “Northeast toward the General before. It certainly wasn’t trying to tell us Kyffen’s grandson was that way. It knew, even if I didn’t, who I was.”

“He told you Cullin and you set him back half a life time,” she said. “Perhaps we have to set him back a full lifetime in order to give Celi time to prepare, to settle the Saesnesi problem and become strong enough to resist a Maeduni invasion.”

The sword kicked again, strongly enough to make me stumble forward a few paces. South again.

I reached up and gripped the hilt. “Stop it,” I snarled. Then to Kerri: “We go south then.” I grinned. “That way, I might not have to frighten you by turning into a Maeduni soldier again.”

She glared at me. “You made a terrible Maeduni soldier,” she said disdainfully. “You’re far too clumsy.”

I smiled beatifically at her. We had argued long and loud before I managed to convince her she had to put on the semblance of a man if the disguise were to work at all. Women in Maedun never carry swords. Any woman caught carrying a man’s weapon was immediately executed. The Maeduni regard their women as being good for only two things—bedding and breeding. I cited the example of how little the death of his wife had affected the General, who was, in essence, the quintessential Maeduni soldier. Kerri finally agreed reluctantly with me. It was the first argument I had ever won against her.

“Not nearly so terrible as you,” I said mildly. “You walked funny.”

“I walked funny?” she repeated indignantly.

“Aye. You walked funny. If you want to masquerade believably as a man, you have to walk as if you’re carrying something valuable between your legs.” She opened her mouth to make a suitably caustic retort, but I cut her off. “Like a Maeduni soldier would believe in his crass arrogance.” I turned to gather in the horses. “The sword leads south. Shall we follow?”

We descended
into the foothills, then moved out onto the rolling grasslands of the Isgardian central plain. Patrols of Isgardian soldiers swarmed everywhere along the roads. This close to the Maeduni border, they were hostile and belligerently suspicious of all travellers. Kerri and I lost a lot of time being stopped constantly, and thoroughly questioned, before we stumbled onto the ideal disguise. We travelled under the semblance of couriers, bearing the blazon of the Ephir himself. It not only prevented our being taken aside at every turn for interrogation, it earned us the unquestioned right to deference and every assistance to speed us on our way. In only a day or two, my ability to cast and hold a masking spell was, by sheer force of necessity, almost as good as Kerri’s.

We rode from dawn to dusk, stopping often enough to rest the horses, then commanded the best accommodation available for the night. The horses received preferential care, too. They needed it more than Kerri or I.

Straight as the flight of an arrow, the sword led us south. It hummed and vibrated on my back like an anxious shepherd, pushing us to the limits of the horses’ endurance. The landscape around us became only an unchanging blur of endless seas of prairie grass and gentle hills.

The farther south we progressed, the more urgent the sword’s insistence on haste became. We came to the River Shena and commandeered a ferry to take us to the south bank. Once we had crossed the river, I realized the sword was leading us straight to Frendor where the charred and gutted remains of Balkan’s manse stood on the bluff overlooking the city.

By the time we reached the locked and guarded gates to the city late in the afternoon on the eve of Lammas, the sword fairly danced with excitement and tension on my back. It wasn’t until we were inside the city, and safely settled for the night that the sword finally subsided a little.

We stood by the narrow window in the tiny sleeping room of the inn looking out at the nearly deserted streets of the city. Only the occasional person moved out there. Those who weren’t soldiers slipped furtively from shadow to shadow, spending the least time possible on the street if their business took them there for any reason.

“What now?” Kerri asked wearily.

“A good night’s sleep first, I think,” I said. “The sword isn’t kicking up such a fuss now. I’m fairly sure this is where it wants us to be.”

She stepped back from the window so there was no chance she might be seen from the street. “The General is out there somewhere,” she said. “That man gives me chills.”

I smiled ruefully. “He has that happy faculty, does he no?” I stretched to ease the kinks out of my back. “The streets should be thronging with people for tomorrow’s celebration. Two strangers won’t be so conspicuous then. We’ll let the sword show us where he is and spy out the lay of the land.”

“And come up with a plan?”

“One of us is bound to, don’t you think?”