The Kinshield Legacy (29 page)

How could a man such as Gavin Kinshield be king? He would make a good champion to the king perhaps, or captain of the guard, but to lead a country? To reign superior over lordovers and the wealthiest, most powerful men and women in Thendylath? Would the people respect him, follow him? Did they have a choice?

He claimed he wouldn’t be king. If he was solving the runes, he would eventually receive the King’s Blood-stone and that would make him king whether he liked it or not. Whether the entire country liked it or not. King Arek put the gems in the tablet for a reason, and nothing Gavin did would change that. Or, for that matter, Sithral Tyr.

A horrid thought occurred to her. “You know,” Daia said, “if Risan’s still alive, it’s because Tyr thinks he’s the one solving the King’s Runes.”

“Sure,” Gavin replied. “But if the fourth rune’s solved while Risan’s in Tyr’s custody, that would prove he ain’t.”

“And Tyr might kill him the minute he finds out.”

“It could be weeks afore he finds out. Besides, he has the sword,” he argued. “And it has the Rune Stones in it. That proves Risan knows who Tyr’s really looking for. Risan won’t become useless to Tyr unless he gives up my name, and I ain’t pinching my little limb waiting for that to happen.”

Perhaps he spoke like a peasant, but he was no dunce. Whether he truly knew the meaning of the fourth rune remained to be seen, but Daia knew one thing: if he solved the rune and still clung to the belief that he would never be king, he would be deeply disappointed.

Chapter 29

Only the light clinking of silver on china disturbed the silence in the dining room while Brodas and Warrick took their afternoon meal. Brodas answered his cousin’s attempts at conversation with a distracted hmm. The problem of having too few gems kept his mind occupied. Warrick hadn’t managed to purchase gems in the market, as the two remaining gemsmiths had closed their shops following the murder of their competitor. Word traveled fast. Warrant knights swarmed the city, undoubtedly hoping to earn valour-gild for capturing the perpetrator. This presented Brodas with few alternatives, none of which were apparent to him yet. Should Lilalian’s battlers find the rune solver, Brodas had no means to extract the information he needed to get the King’s Blood-stone.

Red appeared in the doorway and knocked on the wall. “Sorry to disturb your meal, m’lord, but I found out who sells those gargoyle things.”

Brodas’s eyebrows shot up, and he waved Red forward while he chewed hastily and swallowed. “Come in. Tell me what you’ve discovered.”

“The merchant’s name’s Yardof. He went to Tern to sell his gargoyles. His neighbors said he goes every year and returns after a few weeks. The rest of the year he spends carving and selling them from a shop here in Sohan.”

“Excellent. I need you to ride to Tern after him. Do you know what I want you to do when you find him?”

“Find out how to get the gargoyle thing off the chest.”

“I want you to find out how to open the chest,” Brodas said. “Tell him your father recently passed and as you were sorting through his belongings, you came upon the gargoyle-locked chest.”

Red nodded. “That’s a good story. I’ll tell him that.”

As the stocky swordsman turned to leave, Brodas said, “You must leave him alive in case we have more questions.”

Red spun as he walked to the door, and saluted with two fingers. “Alive he will stay.” His footsteps echoed down the corridor.

“Are you sure you want to send Red?” Warrick asked. “You know how he can be. Maybe Domach’s better suited for this task. He’ll be back soon.”

Brodas scowled. “You assured me that Red follows orders well. Anyway, Domach’s soft. I’d like to keep him nearby for a while and see just how hungry he is. See how reliable he is.”

Warrick smiled sympathetically. “Old wounds ache in stormy weather, don’t they?”

Neither could ever forget the soldier who betrayed them five years ago, or the priceless gem he stole. “They do, Warrick. They certainly do.”

Chapter 30

“It’s getting too dark to see,” Daia said. “We should stop for the night.” She disliked sleeping outdoors, but she saw no point in complaining. They dismounted and stretched. Daia looked up, trying to spot movement overhead.

“What’re you lookin’ at?” Gavin asked. He began unstrapping Golam’s armor and saddle.

“Nothing. Can’t see much of the sky through the trees,” she answered, trying to sound nonchalant. “I’m exhausted. How about you? We’ve pressed hard the last couple of days.” She unbuckled Calie’s saddle and pulled the blanket out from under it, flapped it out and guided its drift to the ground. Then she set the saddle on the blanket and started brushing Calie’s coat. Behind her, Gavin likewise looked after his horse.

When Daia took the last of the dried beef she had from her satchel, Gavin said, “I’m going to hunt for somethin’ to eat. You might as well save your food.”

“What can you hunt with a sword?”

“Not sword. Knife. Watch and be amazed.”

“Gavin, wait. Don’t--”
leave
“--forget where we’re camped.”

He snorted and walked off into the darkness.

She busied herself by gathering dried sticks and starting a fire, and tried not to dwell on what might be flying overhead.

Something fuzzy touched the side of her neck. She squealed and slapped at it with both hands as an icy shiver swept down her spine. She let out a shudder of relief at the sight of Gavin’s huge warhorse. “What are you doing, beast?” she asked with an embarrassed chuckle. She stroked the downy nose, then ran her hands across her arms to smooth the goose-flesh.

Beyonders she could handle. Murderers, thieves or rapists, predators of the wilds – none of them troubled her. As a girl, she would catch harmless green snakes and chase her two sisters with them, delighting in their shrieks and tears. It never occurred to her that she could have such a reaction to anything. Not until she saw her first bat.

There are no bats here, Saberheart
, she told herself. No bats. Just a quiet night in the woods. She shuddered at the thought of the furry winged creatures. Large or small, it did not matter. A dead bat on the forest floor could have her whimpering in terror. Even the word ‘bat’ whispered at night within the safety of her own room at the garrison sent a shiver down her back.

Golam reached for her ear. Daia giggled at the tickling sensation and squirmed away. Surely, a bat wouldn’t dare come close with the warhorse nearby. She hooked an arm under his jaw and patted the side of his face, hugging his head to her.

“I leave you two alone for five minutes and look at you,” Gavin said, stepping out of the darkness and into the pale light of the campfire.

Relief winged through her. She made an effort to sound cheerful as she said, “Your horse is rather quirky.”

“It’s part of his charm,” Gavin said as he made his way toward the fire. “Wait’l you see him in battle. You won’t call him quirky then.”

Daia smiled. “What did you get?”

He held up two large hares. “It’s not a feast, but it’ll do.”

“I’m impressed. I was sure we’d be sharing my meager rations tonight since neither of us has a bow.” She looked up, dreading the inevitable bat sighting.

“Don’t need one.” He sat down on a bed of pine needles about a dozen feet away and swept aside a few pinecones. “Long as I got my mighty knife. There ain’t many animals I can’t kill with this.” He flipped his dagger in the air and caught it by the handle, then started skinning and gutting the rabbits.

Daia stared into the flame for several minutes, thinking over the runes, the gems, the throne of Thendylath. The closer they got to the Rune Cave, the harder she found it to deny that Gavin would be king. If this was his destiny, then he would need her help beyond finding Risan and getting his sword back. The words of the mage, Jennalia, came back to her:
If you keep open your eyes and your mind, you will see.
Had she meant Daia needed to accept Gavin as king? She studied him as he cleaned the rabbits. He would be king. Her king. And she knew then that she would fight for his right to rule. Tears welled in her eyes.

“Things are going to be different,” she said, blinking hard.

“Different how? For who?”

“For everyone. Gavin, once you solve the final rune, you’re going to be our king.”

“No, I ain’t. I told you that.”

Daia sighed. “So why do you pursue the gems if the throne’s not your aim. What else do you get by solving the runes?”

“What do I get? Hand me your sword.” She drew and handed it to him. He skewered one of the rabbit carcasses and gave the sword back to her.

Daia held her rabbit over the fire. “Surely there’s some benefit that drives you to continue doing it. If you were after riches, you would have sold the gems.”

“The benefit’s getting rid o’the dreams. I’ve tried staying away, but the runes’ve been calling to me since I can remember.”

“You see, that tells me fate’s involved. You can’t simply choose not to follow it. Scholars have been studying the runes in the tablet for two hundred years. And along you come and make child’s play of it. It’s your destiny to be king.”

Gavin snorted. “It ain’t destiny. It’s just... obsession. The damned things invade my thoughts against my will. And I got a strong will.” After he skewered the other rabbit carcass on his sword, he joined her by the fire. Squatting on his haunches, he held his meal over the flame.

“No doubt. But what makes you think that you won’t be the king after you solve all the runes?”

“The legend says whoever claims the King’s Blood-stone earns the throne. I ain’t planning to claim it.”

She gaped at him. “What were you planning to do with it then?”

“Look, I know this sounds mad, but I got a friend who’d make an excellent king for Thendylath. He’ll go with me to the cave when I solve the last rune, and he’ll claim the King’s Blood-stone.”

Daia’s eyes flew wide. “No. That’s absurd. You’re going to hand over control of our country to another warrant knight?”

He grinned. “Would you be relieved to know he ain’t a warrant knight?”

“That does little to reassure me,” she muttered. “Has this man agreed to sit on the throne?”

“I haven’t asked him yet, but he will.” Gavin stared into the fire and said, “If you knew him like I do, you’d agree with me. He’d make a far better king than me. He’s educated and cultured, fair-minded, and he’d give you his last pielar and bite o’bread.”

“Did he solve the three King’s Runes?”

“No,” he said with a sigh.

“Did he solve even one of them? Has he ever had any interest at all in solving them?”

His lack of response was as much an answer as Daia needed. She started to press the issue, but he stopped her with a raised hand.

“Why don’t you hold off judging until you meet him?” he asked.

Daia dropped her head back with a sigh and scanned the treetops for movement. “I wish you would tell me what you’re so afraid of.”

He chuckled, looking up. “Whatever it is, it ain’t up there. You afeared of owls?”

“Of course not.” Something fluttered in her peripheral vision and a chill ran across her arms and down her back. Her heart quickened its beat. It was only a bird. “Who’s this friend of yours?”

“If it ain’t owls...” he said, still looking up, “it’s bats, ain’t it? You’re afeared o’bats.”

“I’m not ‘afeared’ of them. I simply... loathe them.” She looked up, unable to stop herself.

Gavin laughed. “You are. A Viragon Sister afeared o’bats.”

“Do you mean to tell me you fear nothing?”

“I fear plenty,” he said, his smile fading.

“Like what?”

“I fear Risan’s going to get a punishment intended for me.”

“That’s not what I meant. Everyone fears something. What do you fear?”

“Not bats.” He grinned.

She cocked her head and eyed him. With his size and strength, he did not have the look of someone who needed to fear anything. She studied him while she turned the rabbit over in the fire. Perhaps he had an irrational fear of snakes or insects, just as she feared bats. No, he seemed perfectly comfortable in the wilderness, unconcerned about what might be slithering or crawling nearby. Sometimes people feared things related to a traumatic experience. “The scars on your face. Whatever gave them to you – that’s what you fear.”