Well of the Damned (9 page)

“Is
he a relative?” Nicholia asked. “You look like him.
Brother perhaps?”

Gavin
patted Keturah’s shoulder. “Wait here for a moment. I
need a word with your mama.” He gestured for Nicholia to walk
with him. When they were out of the girl’s earshot, he said,
“Tell me how you met.”

“We
met in the Old Oak Tavern in Saliria. I work there as a barmaid, and
it was slow that night. He seemed angry or upset about something, and
so I flirted a little to try to lift his spirits. He was such a nice
man, handsome. Anyway, he flirted back, and I shared a drink with
him. The next thing we knew, we were in the back storeroom…”
A flush rose in her cheeks. “It was only one time, but he came
back to the tavern several times over the next few weeks to
apologize. One day, he noticed my belly was growing. I was betrothed
at the time, but...” She hung her head. “...he broke it
off, with good reason. He didn’t want to raise another man’s
baby.”

Gavin
nodded pensively. He didn’t know the details of Rogan’s
relationship with Liera, but he remembered there was a time when the
two weren’t getting along as well as usual. When he’d
gone to see his newborn nephew, GJ, the two hardly spoke to each
other. Did Liera know about her husband’s infidelity and the
resulting child?

“I
don’t want to make trouble for him with his family,”
Nicholia said. “I never meant to come between them. I’m
fond of him — I won’t lie. He’s the father of my
child. We need to know what’s become of him. What’s his
true name?”

He
looked into Nicholia’s eyes. “The man you’re
describing sounds like my brother, Rogan. He died three months ago.”

She
slapped a hand over her mouth, and her eyes welled with tears. “By
the Savior! How did it happen?”

He
knew she would ask this, but the words caught in his throat like a
piece of meat he couldn’t swallow. The image of his brother’s
severed head flared in his mind as it had in nightmares over the last
three months. She didn’t need the details, and he didn’t
want to speak of it. “He was murdered.”

Nicholia
burst into tears. Keturah ran to her and threw her arms around her
mother’s waist. “Mama, what’s wrong? Is Papa dead?
Is that why he quit coming?”

“Yeh, love. That’s
why. May the Savior welcome him into His loving embrace,” she
said. The words came out ragged and soft. “Have you caught the
killer?”

“The
killer was slain. Let’s leave it at that,” Gavin said. If
Keturah wanted to know more when she was older, he would tell her.
For now, this was enough. “Sorry I had to give you the bad
news. Keturah, he was a good man and would’ve made sure you and
your mama got what you need.” To Nicholia, he said, “You
don’t have to worry about money. Tell me how much he was giving
you, and I’ll send triple.”

“Bless
your generous soul,” she said.

“Do
we still have to live at grandmother’s house?” Keturah
asked her mother.

“Hush
now,” Nicholia said.

Gavin
thought this day couldn’t get any worse, but he had a feeling
it was about to. “Is your home in Saliria flooded?”

Nicholia
nodded. “My mother’s home in Tern hasn’t flooded
yet. We’ll be fine there for a time.”

He
exhaled in relief. The last thing he needed was to have to explain to
Liera that Rogan’s bastard daughter and the woman who’d
borne her were staying as guests in the palace. “If that
changes, I want to know about it.”

Chapter 10

Gavin
sat alone in the downstairs library with his head in his hands,
wrestling with his thoughts. In the two hundred years since the
palace had been abandoned, the demon Ritol had destroyed the
furniture and artwork and most of the books, but Feanna and his
sister-in-law Liera had painstakingly arranged to have this room
restored. They’d followed Gavin’s description of the way
it had been when he’d met king Arek face to face during his
first back-traveling excursion and had done an extraordinary job,
though the style of furniture was updated and the colors were
slightly brighter. This had easily become his favorite room in the
palace.

His
thoughts returned again to the brown-eyed girl, Keturah Kinshield. He
couldn’t get her face out of his head. Why, if Rogan was this
girl’s father, would he have named Gavin? It didn’t make
sense. Had he been trying to protect himself or his family?

He
sensed Feanna’s approach and turned to watch her appreciatively
as she entered the room and closed the door. Her curvaceous figure
was accentuated by the buttery yellow dress, scooped just low enough
in front to draw his eye. The lace-accented gown brought out the
golden hue in her hair flowing over her shoulders in gentle curls.
Though she wore dresses fancier and more befitting a queen than the
simple ones she’d owned when they first met, she was still the
demure and humble yet determined woman he fell in love with. He rose
and placed a kiss on her lips and, inspired by their softness,
another.

“Now
that you’ve chosen Jophet as Supreme Councillor of the
Militia,” she said, taking a seat across from his desk, “I
want you to name Lilalian as my champion.”

He
raised his brow in surprise as he sat beside her. “Why?”

“She
was so heartbroken over not being chosen, and she’s a good
leader and battler. I don’t want her to leave us.”

“Feeling
sorry for someone ain’t a good reason for giving them an
important job. I was planning to name Tennara.”

She
scowled. “But I prefer Lila.”

“Tennara’s
the better choice, but I’ll take more time to consider. I
didn’t expect you home so early today,” he said. “How
was your visit to the orphanage?”

He
saw something in her gray eyes that he had never seen before. It
worried him, and he took her hand and asked what was the matter. Her
eyes welled with tears, and she bowed her head before sobs overtook
her. “Oh, sweetheart,” he said, kneeling before her and
drawing her into his arms. “It’ll be awright.” He
held her for several long minutes while she cried, her breath coming
in ragged gasps. Finally, when she regained control, she pulled back
and dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief she’d made a part
of her wardrobe.

“It
was awful, Gavin. Some of those children were sleeping with mice in
their pallets, and probably rats too, and bugs. The kitchen…”
A strong shudder shook her shoulders. “There were roaches
everywhere, running across the floor, climbing on the tables and over
the food. It was disgusting.”

“What
was their excuse?”

She
let out a growl of frustration and anger. “His excuse was
arrogance and denial. He had the children hidden away somewhere, but
I saw some of them, and they looked underfed. There was a chair,
Gavin. He tied children into the chair when they misbehaved, and he
kept a variety of switches in the same wardrobe where he kept their
toys.”

“So
what’d you tell him? How’s he going to fix it?” He
took his seat again but held onto her hands.

A
smile brightened her face. “You’d have been proud of me.
I threatened to shut the place down and move the children. I would
have – I was ready to proceed – but he convinced me to
let him fix things.” She outlined her agreement with the
orphanage overseer, and Gavin nodded his agreement as she spoke.

He
was proud of her. After hearing her express doubts almost constantly
about her ability to fulfill the role of queen, it lifted his spirits
to see her confidence building. She made a wonderful queen, but he
couldn’t convince her of that. She needed to learn it herself,
and it appeared she was on her way.

Excitement
quickened her tongue as she said, “I’d like to also
provide books and hire people to teach the children to read. It’s
a skill that can come in handy when they’re older. Aside from
learning to read and count, I think they ought to be taught a trade –
carpentry or tailoring or cobbling or cooking – something they
can use when they’re old enough to leave the orphanage.
Something their parents might’ve taught them had they not been
taken so early.”

“That’s a good idea.”
He often wished he’d spent more time learning to read, as
Edan’s father, the Lordover Lalorian, had urged. “Maybe
we can give tradesmen some kind o’payment to take these
children under their wing.”

“Oh,
Gavin! That would be wonderful, but won’t Edan object to the
expenditure?”

“When
people are happy, they’re productive, and when every citizen is
productive, the whole country’ll thrive. I don’t think he
agrees, but we won’t know unless we try it.”

“I
wholeheartedly agree.” Her enthusiasm didn’t stop there.
“I want to go to Ambryce and visit the orphanage there. If it’s
as wonderful as I’ve heard, it could be a model for the
orphanage in Tern and elsewhere.”

“Sure,
once the rain stops,” Gavin said. At her scowl, he explained,
“The rain makes travel dangerous. There’s no telling when
the sky’ll clear.” Especially if the rain was magically
caused, as the weather scientists believed.

“The
children’s welfare can’t wait until it’s convenient
for me. They need my help now, rain or not.”

“I
didn’t say wait until it’s convenient. I said wait until
it’s safe. You’re the queen. I won’t let you take
unnecessary risks.”

“It’s
not a risk if there’s no danger. The Lordover Keyes traveled
all this way without incident, and he’s an old man. He told me
the roads were passable. I’ll have Lila and Tennara with me,
plus your choice of guards and my usual attendants. They won’t
let anything happen to me.”

He
grunted in response, unappreciative of the skill with which she
countered his argument.

She
smoothed his hair with a calming, loving hand. “I would ask you
to come with me, but you have other pressing concerns. I can do this.
You believe in me, don’t you?”

He
felt peaceful, less concerned about her proposed journey than he had
a moment earlier, and wondered whether she was using her empathic
skill to influence him. Unlike others with a gift of empathy, she
could also push her own feelings into her target. It was how they had
all survived the demon Ritol’s attack.
No, she wouldn’t
do that. She’s not a devious woman.
He stood, just in case,
and moved out of her reach. “O’course I do. That’s
not a fair question. There’s no reason for you to travel now.
The trip’ll be miserable even if the road is good. You won’t
be able to stop as often to stretch.”

She
cocked her head. “Have you forgotten I was on my own, caring
for four children by myself, before I met you? I’m no stranger
to discomfort. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re
strong. You’re tough. I know that. I just don’t want you
traveling in the rain.”

She
stood stiffly and glared up into his eyes. “You aren’t my
father, Gavin Kinshield. You can’t control me as if you were.”

“I’m
not—” He realized he’d started to holler and
lowered his voice. “I’m not trying to control you. I’m
trying to ensure your safety.”

Feanna
glared at him before storming out.

“Feanna,
don’t...” He sighed at the door as it swung shut behind
her. “...leave.”

Chapter 11

Gavin
stood at the window in the downstairs library where he usually went
to read or ponder the problems people were faced with, most notably
the rain. It tapped against the glass in the darkness, sometimes
softly, sometimes heavily, but never letting up. It hadn’t just
swollen the River Athra and the lake that fed it. It had flooded
fields, making the upcoming autumn harvest impossible. How many
people would be without grain or vegetables this winter? How many
farmers would be unable to feed their livestock? Unless the rain
stopped immediately, he would need to look to foreign merchants to
feed his people and their livestock. Even if it stopped now, the
ground was saturated. It would take weeks to evaporate the standing
water, and in the meantime, the crops would rot.