Kinshield's Redemption (Book 4)

Kinshield's Redemption

Book four of The Kinshield Saga

by K.C. May

Kinshield's Redemption

Copyright 2013 by K.C. May

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Book 4 of The Kinshield Saga

Dozens have been corrupted by tainted water from the Well of the Damned, including King Gavin Kinshield's beloved wife. He's desperate to reverse the water's effects and restore Feanna to the kind and compassionate woman he married.

And what of his helpless heir growing in her toxic womb? To save his unborn son, Gavin must find a solution before the darkness that’s overtaken Feanna also stamps out the tiny spark within her.

Help seems to appear in the unlikely form of the Guardians, two ghostly figures tethered to the crystal that lies deep within the wellspring. Can Gavin trust them... or will their own agenda take the lives of his wife and son—and bring on the utter destruction of the seven realms?

The Kinshield Saga consists of

1. The Kinshield Legacy
   
2. The Wayfarer King
   
3. Well of the Damned
   
4. Kinshield's Redemption
   

Cover art by T.M. Roy (www.teryvisions.com).
Map of Thendylath by Jared Blando (www.theredepic.com)

Chapter 1

Gavin Kinshield took a deep breath to steel himself as two members of his First Royal Guard brought Queen Feanna, barking and snapping at them like a rabid dog, from the lordover’s guesthouse. Every step she took twisted another knot in his already aching muscles.

Her honey-colored hair, normally well kempt, was wild and matted, and she wore the same wrinkled gown she’d thrown unceremoniously on the floor the day before.

Despite his best efforts, Gavin’s mind conjured the scene again: his wife lying naked in the bed and one of his First Royals, just as naked, hiding in the wardrobe. His stomach churned in empty disgust while his heart bled. His love, his life, the one who’d kept him sane while he grappled with the challenges of being king, was lost, probably forever.

“Don’t do that to yourself,” his champion, Daia Saberheart, said softly. Her light-blue eyes were kind and warm, like her touch on his arm. The marks of storms, imprinted on her forearms during the battle the previous day, were still visible but fading.

“Do what?” he asked, examining his own forearms with feigned nonchalance. The marks of storms, like a red tattoo of the lightning that had struck him, were more pronounced on his arms but were fading fast. The ones on his neck and face made people stare, but thanks to the scars, he’d gotten used to that over the years.

Daia pulled one corner of her mouth taut, as if to admonish him for asking a stupid question. “We’ll fix this. In the meantime, she’ll be safe in Tern, and you won’t need to worry about her.”

Wouldn’t he? There was plenty of mischief to get into in Tern, not the least of which was the secret he’d kept from his sister-in-law about his supposed bastard daughter. Gavin had no doubt that Feanna would tell Liera at the first opportunity that the child wasn’t Gavin’s at all but his dead brother’s.

He should have been accompanying her. It was a husband’s duty to keep his family safe and yet, he’d failed most profoundly—again. Images came to mind of his first wife and daughter, murdered in front of him nearly six years earlier. It reminded him of his incompetence in the most basic role as a man: to protect his family. And now he’d done it again. He’d let a malefactor escape and poison his wife, turning her from a cheerful, compassionate woman into this.

The queen’s attendants bustled to and fro with eyes averted, loading cases and crates and whatnot into the wagon.

“Don’t put that there, idiot!” Feanna shouted. “Put it over here. And hurry up, you bindlestiff. The sooner we can get out of this piss-smelling city, the better.”

Until yesterday, Gavin had never known her to call people names or speak unkindly to anyone.

“What are you just standing there for?” she asked him. “You’ve got more brawn than intellect. Make yourself useful for once. Or does the king think he’s so high and mighty that he can’t help his wife pack?”

Gavin began to tremble, overwhelmed with guilt, anxiety, and anger. In recent weeks, he’d tolerate her occasional outbursts because he thought she’d been overly emotional due to her pregnancy. She was different now. Evil.

No, not evil,
he reminded himself.
Only kho-bent.
Everyone possessed the hard, cold nature, but Feanna had more of it than the soft, warm zhi essence because of that damned well water. He turned his head so he wouldn’t have to look at the monster in his wife’s body. It wasn’t her fault.

Beside and slightly behind him stood Cirang Deathsblade, her head bowed in guilty silence. It had been her fault. She knew it, she’d owned up to it, and she would help find a way to fix it if it was the last thing she did. And it might be. He owed her an execution for her past crimes, and her apologies and tears of remorse wouldn’t be enough to stay his hand when the time came.

“Good for nothing,” Feanna muttered before rushing over and slapping one of her attendants across the face. “Didn’t I tell you not to put my books in the wagon?”

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” the attendant said, covering the red hand print on his cheek. “My mistake.”

“You must be as daft as my husband.”

Gavin took Feanna by the arm and pulled her aside. “Listen, take your frustration out on me if you got to, but don’t abuse your attendants. They aren’t paid well enough to put up with that.”

With a seething glare, she yanked her arm out of his grasp and turned her back to him. She continued to holler at the workers, but at least she didn’t strike anyone again.

The weight of all that had happened over the last few months slowly crushed him. His muscles ached, his mind slowed, and he longed to ride off into the wilderness alone and hide in a cave for the rest of his life. He didn’t want to be king. He didn’t want any of this, yet there he was, expected to find the solutions to all the country’s problems. Except that they were problems he had ultimately caused.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. All he could do was steel his resolve and forge on. The invisible crown atop his head was more like a yoke across his shoulders. Now he knew what a plow ox felt like, slogging through a muddy field.

“Did you send the letter?” he asked, turning his attention back to Daia.

“Yes, and I have another.” Daia squatted on her haunches, rummaged through her satchel, and pulled out a folded paper sealed with blue wax. “I thought we should send a copy with Tennara, in case the bird doesn’t reach Tern. We’ve got to be sure Edan knows what to expect when Queen Feanna arrives.”

“Good thinking.” The letter, dictated by Gavin and penned by Daia in her fancy handwriting, summarized the events of the last few days. In it, he cautioned his adviser, Edan Dawnpiper, to remove all glass and sharp objects from the king and queen’s bed chamber and lock Feanna inside. She should receive all the food and drink she needed, and have her personal needs met according to her station, but the staff was not to take orders from her, let her wander the palace without a guard, spend time with the children, nor leave her alone with any man.

Even with the warning, Gavin wasn’t sure Edan would be properly prepared for what he would encounter when she arrived. None of them would.

When the wagon was loaded, Feanna approached to bid Gavin farewell. The mystical, hazy bubble around her swirled like a storm cloud, black and foreboding. It reminded Gavin of the monsters that had invaded Thendylath for so many years. Though her haze wasn’t pure kho like theirs had been, what little zhi remained was difficult to see or feel. The closer she came, the more his skin crawled. When she put her arms around his neck, he recoiled, turning his face away.