The Wayfarer King (14 page)

“Yes. And love. It’s amazing what the loving touch of another human being can do for someone, especially a grieving child.”

“Men and women need love too,” he said softly. “Is there someone who touches you?”

Feanna felt herself blushing again. “My needs aren’t important.”

“Sure they are. Don’t you ever lie awake at night, wishing for a shoulder to lay your head on? Or the gentle brush of a finger on your brow when you’re weary? Someone to hold you when you’re frightened?”

The reaction Feanna had to these images amazed her. With each of his questions, she heard his heartbeat against her ear, imagined his finger on her brow, his warm arms around her. She didn’t answer. She didn’t know how. To her relief, they arrived at the path leading to her house. “This,” she started. Her voice caught, and she cleared her throat. “This is my house.”

He followed her up the path. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“No, I suppose I didn’t.” She smiled, glad he was behind her.

He took her elbow to help her up the two steps to the stoop. “Then I’m taking your silence for a no.”

Inside, Trevick had lighted a lamp and a few candles. The back door swung shut behind him as he headed to the outbuilding.

Feanna led the way into the children’s bedroom and laid Jilly on her pallet. She indicated Tansa’s pallet beside it, and Gavin set the girl gently down, then started to remove her shoes. “It’s all right. I’ll get them dressed for bed in a bit.”

He nodded and followed her into the great room. “I’ll bid you goodnight then.” He went to the door. Feanna’s heart sank. She had hoped he would try to kiss her, though she wasn’t entirely sure she was ready for that. It would have been nice to know he wanted to.

“Goodnight, then,” she said.

He paused at the door. “Do you think I could see you sometime?”

Feanna smiled. “Perhaps.”

In two long strides, he was upon her, his arms sliding around her waist and pulling her close. She was too shocked to react in time to object. He held her body against his in a close, intimate embrace, far closer and more intimate than her late husband ever had. His breath was warm on her neck, his prickly face rough against her ear. As he was pulling away, she lowered her head so he couldn’t kiss her, but he tipped her chin up with a finger. “One kiss?”

His eyes were like two coals in the dim light. She felt his hunger... and something else, something she didn’t expect: his admiration for her. At that moment, she wanted his kiss more than anything. He lowered his mouth slowly toward hers, lips parted.

Someone giggled.

Gavin and Feanna snapped their heads toward the bedroom and saw Iriel peeking through the doorway.

Feanna pulled away and beckoned the youngster with a finger. Already in her nightgown and bare feet, Iriel giggled behind her cupped hand and came forward. Feanna bent to her and kissed her forehead. She was too embarrassed to chastise the girl for spying. Later, she would have a chat with the children about privacy.

Gavin squatted in front of Iriel and examined her, head to toe, with a stern expression. The giggling stopped, and Feanna felt her stiffen. “Have you brushed your teeth?” he asked.

“Yeh.”

“Yeh what?”

“Yeh, m’lord?”

Gavin nodded. “Don’t forget to do it every day so your teeth won’t rot out.”

“Did your tooth rot out right there?” Iriel pointed to her right eyetooth.

Heat burned Feanna’s face in embarrassment. “Iriel, what kind of question is that?”

“No, it started growing long one day, like a dog’s fang, cutting into my lip, making it hard to eat and talk. So I got dr— uh, got a doctor to give me medicine so I wouldn’t feel pain. Then he got a pliers and pulled it out.”

Feanna giggled.

“Did that really happen?” Iriel asked with a skeptical squint in her eyes.

Gavin winked. “Maybe it did, maybe it didn’t.”

“I’m goin’ to be a Viragon Sister when I grow up,” she announced.

“Are you now? Well, if you go directly to bed and don’t make a peep, maybe I’ll let you hold my sword tomorrow.”

Iriel’s face lit up, and she hopped excitedly. “Truly?”

“I don’t see you running off to bed,” Gavin said.

Iriel ran into the bedroom.

Feanna loved how comfortable he was with the children. She was still smiling when he rose and stepped up close to her. “Now,” he said as he slid his arms around her waist. “Where were we?”

The back door opened and Trevick came inside carrying the nighttime chamber pot.

Feanna stepped back out of Gavin’s arms. “Set it down, sweetheart,” she told Trevick, “and get ready for bed. I’ll finish the nighttime chores. Goodnight, Gavin. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Gavin leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Here’s fair warning,” he said into her ear. His warm breath raised gooseflesh across her neck. “I’m getting my kiss tomorrow.”

Chapter 20

The following morning, while Feanna was cooking breakfast, she heard a rhythmic sound, like... someone chopping wood. She did a quick scan of the children around the table, accounting for each with a flood of relief. She went outside and, to her surprise and delight, found Gavin splitting wood.

“Good morning,” he said with a grin. “Hope you don’t mind. Rogan had plenty o’chopped wood, so I thought I’d see if you needed some.”

Feanna smiled. “That’s sweet of you, Gavin. Thank you. Have you broken your fast?”

Gavin showed her his gap-toothed smile. “As a matter o’fact, I ha’n’t. I wouldn’t mind a bite to eat — if you have enough.”

“If you don’t mind eggs, we have plenty.”

Gavin came in, washed his hands, and joined them at the table. At first, the children stared at him, silent and bug-eyed while he shoveled mountains of food into his mouth. Feanna had to remind them twice to eat their food and stop staring at their guest.

“Is Miss Daia comin’ too?” Iriel asked.

“We might see her later,” Gavin told her with a playful smile.

Then the flood of questions started: “Are you a ‘ranter?” “Are you married?” “Have you ever killed anybody?” “Do you have children?” “How come you’re missin’ a tooth right there?” “Did it rot out?” “What’d you get those scars from?” “What’s your horse’s name?”

Feanna enjoyed listening to Gavin answer the questions, some with a gentle version of the truth, some with an outrageous story designed to amuse. He accepted their uncommon lack of tact with good humor. Then Feanna realized Daia had been right: his fondness of children told her a lot about him. She could do worse than Gavin Kinshield. In fact, she already had.

After breakfast, Gavin went around the property with a handful of nails and a hammer, fixing things Feanna hadn’t found time for. Then he cleared the weeds growing next to the house, warning her that too much growth this close was a fire hazard. The children followed him around like ducklings, and he let them help despite that they were undoubtedly slowing his progress. Kneading dough in the kitchen, Feanna watched out the window while he showed Trevick how to hammer a new nail to fix a hinge on the barn door. When Trevick hit his hand and clutched it, wailing loudly enough for Feanna to hear, her instinct was to rush out and comfort him, but Gavin handled the crisis with skill, first examining the wound, then spitting on it — oh! She hoped he was only pretending to spit on it. When Trevick laughed, Gavin rubbed his head and gave him a playful push, prompting Trevick to push back. Feanna laughed quietly, watching the two wrestle, until Iriel jumped on Gavin’s back in a very unladylike manner, skirt hiked to her thighs. Then Tansa attached herself his leg, and Gavin collapsed to the ground under their weight. The children leapt to their feet and danced a victory dance over whatever beast they had slain, and Gavin rose, laughing.

Watching their antics was more fun than Feanna had had in quite some time, and she found herself laughing too. Her heart swelled. This was a man she wanted to have in her life. She wondered whether he would be playful in the bedroom too. Her thoughts embarrassed her, but they also made her realize that perhaps Gavin had been right. Men and women did need love, and Feanna had been too long without it.

“Can I hold it now? Can I?” Iriel asked, hopping excitedly.

“Awright,” Gavin said. She followed him to the side of the house where he’d left Aldras Gar. He picked it up and beckoned her to come with him to the chopping stump. “Two rules. Rule one: you don’t point a sword at anyone you aren’t willing to kill.” Iriel nodded. “Rule two: you always know where it’s pointing.” He squatted beside her and rested the blade, still in its scabbard, on the stump and extended the hilt toward her. “It’s heavy. Take it in both hands.”

She wrapped her small hands around it, unable to close her fingers completely. He adjusted the position of her hands. “Now step back with your right leg. A little more. Good. You’re ready for battle.”

She gritted her teeth and strained. “Uhhhh! I can’t lift it.”

“When you join the Sisterhood, you’ll work with a smaller blade until you grow big and strong enough for one like this.” He took it from her and set it on the stump. “Let’s get back to work, eh?” He returned to the barn where Tansa was handing Trevick nails to hammer into the siding. “Good job, Trevick. You’ll have it like new.”

An unsettling feeling came over him, and his smile dropped away, replaced by a brow creased in concern. Something wasn’t right.

Aldras Gar.

“Everyone run to the house,” he commanded as he pulled his glove on.

Trevick and Tansa stopped what they were doing, hearing the stern tone in his voice. “What? Why?” Trevick asked.

“RUN!” Gavin shouted. He started toward the stump where Iriel was trying to lift Aldras Gar. The gems in the hilt glowed with alarming brilliance.

In the field a few dozen yards away, a large black form emerged through a red slit in the air. The beyonder raised its head, sniffing the air. With dark smoke rising from its body, it looked like a giant badger from hell. Two others joined it.

Trevick started to run. Tansa screamed. The three hell badgers turned toward the source of the sound. She wasn’t going to make it to the house in time.

Gavin turned back and sprinted to the barn where Tansa stood paralyzed with fear. He snatched her up and raced toward the house. Iriel was still trying to lift Aldras Gar, oblivious to the danger. “IRIEL!”

She looked up, surveyed the scene and began to run. Trevick was at the house. Iriel slowed to look at the hell badgers behind her.

“Don’t look. Run!” Gavin changed course and scooped Iriel up in his free arm as he overtook her. He set the two girls down and pushed them into the house. “Bar the door,” he said.

With the children safely inside, Gavin faced the hell badgers. Each was roughly seven feet long and three feet tall at the shoulder. They raced toward him. Judging their speed and distance, he knew he wouldn’t make it to Aldras Gar in time. He lifted his hand toward the weapon and pulled with his will.

The sword wiggled. Gavin pulled harder, gritting his teeth. The hell badgers were close enough he could hear them grunt as they ran. As if it were being propelled by a tornado, the sword launched into the air, hurtling toward Gavin. Its hilt slapped into his hand, and its momentum jerked his arm backward.

The first hell badger hit him. The force of the creature’s charge slammed him onto his back. The thing was upon him, teeth snapping. Its putrid breath threatened to gag him. He tried to swing the sword around. Inch-long fangs clamped onto his forearm, ripping through his flesh. His grip weakened. Agony seared his thoughts. He clenched his teeth against the pain. Blood ran down his arm.

The sword shuddered in his hand, and a wave rippled the air. The hell badger squealed and flew back. Heat burst from his body in a wave, scorching the two others as they leapt on him. Gavin swung his sword across his body. It took the head off one and sank into the shoulder of the other, lodging in the bone. A terrible shriek pierced the air. Gavin yanked his sword free as the first hell badger charged again. He rolled to his feet and twisted at the waist, swinging the sword with a two-handed grip. Its blade lit up with a faint blue glow as it sliced through the beast’s chest as easily as if it were made of smoke, cutting the thing in two. A pale whitish fluid sprayed through the air, splashing Gavin’s sleeves. It turned green the moment it touched his clothing. He twisted his body, bringing the sword around again. Though the point missed its mark when the last hell badger stumbled after him, the spark that flew forth did not. It seared the beyonder like a hundred bolts of lightning. The beast glowed brilliantly enough to leave a white afterimage in Gavin’s vision, then faded to a charred black lump. Smoke rose from its singed fur, with an acrid smell like burnt rot.