The King's Sword (19 page)

“Did you take this news to the wizard Thestian?” Ronan let his gaze fall back to the changeling. Ironic, he thought coldly, the one I can trust is a thief.

“There was no time. I was on my way to see him myself but got sidetracked when I came across this beauty.” Mikel produced a small dagger with an emerald in the hilt. “I was just about to slip away when I heard the two men talking.”

“What business does a thief have with the wizard?” Fiona stepped forward.

“The same that I have with this one. I’m little. I hear things.” Mikel the Hort shrank away from the serpentine warrior and Ronan frowned. Even the thief changeling had guessed that he was a wizard.

“I am familiar with many at Merisgale,” Fiona said, stepping forward. “What did this man look like?”

“It was dark and I couldn’t see his face.” Mikel shook his head.

“The dagger you stole. Did it belong to him?” Fiona’s eyes dropped to the weapon he held.

“Yes. He didn’t even know I was there. I was so clever.” Mikel beamed as he held out the dagger. Fiona’s face blanched.

“What is it?” Ronan asked when she lifted a hand to her mouth.

“That’s Diato’s,” she whispered.

“Who is Diato?” Keegan stepped forward and took the dagger from Mikel, turning it in his hand as he examined it.

“He is…the captain of the King’s Guards.” Her voice trembled.

Ronan’s eyes narrowed.

“Then he does not work for the dark forces,” Ula breathed but Fiona shook her head.

“I have never thought so but…well, he’s always been so mysterious and he never lets you really get to know him.” She chewed on her lip thoughtfully. “In fact, he can be quite distant at times.”

“You seem to know him well,” Ronan observed.

Fiona nodded. “As well as anyone can know him but that’s just it. I knew what he allowed me to know. Never any more than that.” Fiona’s hands were shaking. “It would not be a stretch in his character to be of the dark forces. He has been Captain of the Guards only two years. That’s just enough to infiltrate Merisgale and become a trusted leader when the new King was named.” Her eyes lifted to Ronan.

“And if he is close to Thestian…and Thestian knows of what has transpired between you and I…” She was visibly shaking. “Ronan, he will kill you.”

“But you can’t be sure he’s not just a jealous lover?” Ula asked as Mikel held out his hand for Keegan to return the dagger to him. The horseman dropped it in the changeling’s little hand.

“No more than a day. I hurried back this way as fast as I could. I didn’t stop even when I saw a nice pretty for me,” Mikel promised.

Ronan let his hands slide from the changeling’s shoulders.

“We could go back to Jobi,” Fiona suggested. “They would hide us.”

“And endanger themselves,” Ronan added in a soft voice. “Keegan, is there another way to Merisgale than this road?”

“Yes, but you don’t want to travel that way,” Keegan answered.

“Which way is that?”

It was Mikel who answered in a soft whisper. “Johran.”

“Johran.” Keegan echoed. “The route will take us through the Codadeum swamps and then on to the hills of Johran. From there we would cross the moors so we could enter the south entrance of Merisgale.”

“It would cost us another week,” Fiona warned.

“And maybe our lives,” Mikel added. The people of Johran are not a gentle bunch.”

“What does he mean?” Ronan looked at Keegan.

“They are cannibals.”

Ronan made a face. “Aggressive?”

“Very.” Keegan nodded.

“Is there no other way?” Ronan didn’t like the options he was being given.

“Not unless you can summon a dragon to carry us by air.” Keegan shook his head.

Fat chance in that, Ronan thought. There was only a dozen or so left in existence. He looked to Ula but she held up her hands.

“At most I could carry two and only a mile or so.” She told him and Ronan shouted with frustration. He ran a hand over his face. How much more difficult could this get?

The cannibals do not eat any of their own.
Ahearn hadn’t spoken to Ronan for days so when the horse’s voice found his thoughts it caused him to start.

“What does that mean?” Ronan looked at Arien’s horse as he spoke.

Join their clan.
Ahearn’s dark eyes stared back at him.

“That sounds as if there might be a catch,” Ronan murmured and waited while the others watched him in silence.

Perhaps but it would clear the path to Merisgale, lessen the chance of being snacked upon.
Ahearn answered.

Ronan sighed. The horse was right. At least it was something he could place hope on. Slowly, the blacksmith nodded then looked up at the others who waited for him to announce what choice he’d made for them.

“We go to Johran.” He could see the trepidation flicker in their eyes but they all nodded in agreement. “We leave now.”

“You aren’t going to leave me here are you?” Mikel asked as they began readying the horses for riding.

“No. You can ride with me for as far as you would like to go,” Ronan told the changeling and smiled when Mikel breathed out with relief.

Moments later they set out and they didn’t reach the edge of the Codadeum Swamps until right before dark. “It’s too dangerous to cross at night. If we stop now and ride through in the morning we will reach the dry island in the middle by tomorrow night.”

“At first light then.” Ronan nodded, gaze sweeping the area for a dry place to sleep. The trees were different than the ones they had slept among before. They were gnarled and twisted, their roots splaying in every direction across the ground.

“We will have to sleep in the trees,” Keegan said as if he could read Ronan’s thoughts. “The ground is too wet. And it is likely that one or two of us could become stuck.”

“Would you not just pull them out?” Ronan chuckled.

“I would have no chance before the harpies swooped down to sup.” Keegan’s face remained serious when Ronan’s eyes widened. Keegan nodded across the horizon toward the cliffs that overlooked the swamp. Against the stretching shadows, Ronan could make out the faint outlines of several creatures. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. The half beasts were watching them.

“Waiting like vultures to see which one of us gets sucked into the mud first,” Keegan said with a scowl.

“The trees it is then.” Ronan shifted his attention back to the twisted growth. They could make hammocks out of some of the vines and some of the branches were large enough to lie upon. He just prayed no one rolled off into the mud in the middle of the night.

The horses took to the boulders, clambering atop the rocks so they would be safe from the mud. Huddled together, the Dulcets lowered their heads. They were not whispering grass, Ronan decided. They were just whispering.

Ronan found a good place that was big enough for him, climbed up and settled, resting his back against the trunk. The bark was smooth enough but the way the tree bent and turned made it impossible for him to get comfortable. Using his magic, he willed some of the vines to weave along each side of the limb until he was certain he had enough that he not could roll off.

“Maybe you could help the rest of us out too?” Ula called from the ground.

He peered over the vines to find them all standing there watching him. He glanced around and then did the same for them at four other limbs. He would have created the same kind of bedding for Fiona if she hadn’t already settled on a lower limb, close to his, arms and legs becoming snake-like so they could coil around the branches.

“Diato was the man Smellir spoke of?” Ronan asked her as the others started climbing to their raised beds.

“Yes,” Fiona answered.

Ronan dug for no more information. He needed no more. Something screeched in the distance causing him to sit up.

“Harpies,” Keegan called to him. “They probably don’t like the way you’ve fashioned our campsite. No meals for them tonight.”

Ronan eased back against the tree trunk. He doubted he would get much sleep that night. But Ronan did fall asleep, only for a short time, until the sound of horses awoke him. He sat up but a slender hand slipped over his mouth. In the moonlight, he found Fiona’s face. She lifted a finger to her lips then pointed below them. Ronan leaned slightly so he could see over the veil of vines.

Twelve shadowed riders halted at the edge of the swamp. The one that led them stared out at the blanketed horizon. Ronan looked at Fiona and mouthed the name in question. Diato? She nodded. He looked down at the captain as his eyes swept the area.

Ronan looked to the boulders but their horses were not there. His gaze moved to the others, all keeping still and silent. But where were the horses? Were they stuck in the mud?
We are safe and from sight
.
Keegan
draped
the Sledger’s cape over us hours ago.
Ahearn’s reply came to him silently so Ronan focused his attention back to the riders, grateful for Keegan’s cleverness and caution.

“Are you certain they came this way?” one of the men asked.

“Yes,” Diato answered and Ronan frowned. “Dulcet hoof prints. The blacksmith is too stupid to cover his tracks.” Ronan started to rise but Fiona’s hand on his arm stopped him. When he looked at her, she shook her head, indicating for him to keep still.

Ronan looked back down to the captain when he spoke again. “No sign of a camp. They must have pushed on through the swamps during the night.” Now who was stupid? Ronan smirked in the darkness.

“That’s dangerous. They may even be dead,” one of the others said and Ronan saw Diato’s smile gleaming in the moonlight.

“What a pity that would be.” He turned to the men. “We head back to dry land. Camp the rest of the night and start out in the morning.” The others instantly turned their horses without question. Diato lingered, looked around again before following.

When they were out of sight, Fiona let out the breath she’d been holding.

“We push on now,” Ronan said and as if summoned the horses appeared on the boulders, the cape dropping from around them. Ahearn grasped the cape in his mouth and led the others to step down carefully. They waited for their riders to climb upon their backs.

Ronan took the cape, folded it and tucked it back in his pack before swinging onto his horse. “Ula, can you give us a bit of light once we get away from the banks? Just enough we can see where we are going?” Ronan whispered and she nodded that she could.

“I’ll go first.” Keegan was already kicking his horse ahead of the others.

“No.” Ronan waited until he stopped and twisted on the horse to look back at him. “Let Arien go ahead. He has the best horse for it. Ahearn will alert us of any dangers.”

Arien looked as if he’d been named the captain of the guards himself. He quickly gave Ahearn a slight kick and the horse started forward into the murky swamp water.

Ronan reached down and lifted Mikel the Hort, who’d become uncharacteristically quiet, behind him. “Ula, you go next so you can give light when we are away from here,” Ronan said, glancing back to be certain the guards were not returning.

“You should go next. You have the sword. It must be kept safe,” Fiona told him and Ronan nodded, falling in line behind Ula. He turned to look back at the two horses left.

“Then I’ll take up the rear.” Keegan fell back and waited for Fiona to follow Ronan. “Keep your eyes and ears open. Fiona, I’d feel much better on our end of the line if that tongue of yours was out sniffing danger.” She winked over her shoulder and flicked her tongue at him. Ronan faced forward.

They traveled slowly, cautiously through the thick waters of the swamp. Ahearn wound them through and Ula lit the way with her blue magic. The darkness dragged on and Ronan felt himself begin to doze atop Sorcha’s back. The soft sloshing of the horses’ legs moving through water only made the urge to sleep stronger. It wasn’t until Fiona’s voice broke the quiet at dawn that he sat straighter, more alert.

“They’ve started moving.”

Ronan tilted his head as a thought struck him. “Are they at the swamps edge yet?”

“No,” she answered after a moment. “They are still on dry land.” Ronan closed his eyes. He called to the vines of the trees, snapped them loose and with his will dragged them through the water.

Ahead, the island rose up from the murky water like a savior but Ronan only concentrated on what he willed the vines to do. He wove them together quickly; creating a net nestled beneath the surface behind them. It might slow Diato and his men enough to give them another’s day’s ride.

Ronan was thankful when his horse climbed up the bank of the island. A few trees stood, offering thin shelter but Ronan didn’t care. He was weary and needed rest desperately.
Sleep. I shall keep watch.
Ahearn’s offer was all Ronan needed. Swinging from the horse, he moved toward one of the trees and settled at its base.

“Wake me in an hour,” he called back to Keegan.

“You are going to sleep?” Fiona asked as if he’d lost his mind.

“Diato and his men will be detained by a net of vines. I made it strong enough to buy us a few hours. I suggest you all get some rest as well.” He closed his eyes.

* * *

Ronan woke with a start. Around him, the others slept but he sat up. Something wasn’t right. The vines! They were undone. Ronan could feel it. He reached out with his will but the vines resisted him, under another spell.

Someone has cast a spell that will rebuke your magic.
Ahearn’s wisdom found his thoughts.

“I made sure to hide the magic I put on the vines. I placed them out of view,” Ronan argued in a whisper.

Someone who knew that you had created a net cast the spell.
Ronan’s stomach dropped. His eyes darted around to those that still slept. Those he had told were all there.