Well Of The Damned Part 14

Gavin knew he could catch up to Cirang later. Right now he had to find Vandra. "Vandra," he yelled. Her lack of response meant either she was dead or close to it. He hoped it was because she didn't recognize Fah-a as her name, but the chance of that was slight. Cirang had been intent on slaying Brawna. If Vandra was still alive, even barely, he could save her, but with the world spinning this way, she could be standing in front of him and he wouldn't see her. He shut his eyes and tried finding her with his hidden eye, but without the gems in his sword to aid him, he felt weak and ineffective. With Daia's help, maybe he would do better. "Daia, help me."

"Is she dead?" Daia asked. At least, that was what Gavin thought she said.

Answering the question was too much effort, and so Gavin said nothing. He used his hidden eye to find Daia by the brilliant orange tendril that snaked outward from the center of her otherwise clear blue haze. When he took hold of it, wrapping a thread of his own haze around it, his mystical strength renewed.

If only his magic could heal this affliction. It wasn't like an injury - more like getting drunk, and he'd already tested his ability to get undrunk using healing magic. Several times, every one unsuccessful.

With great effort and concentration, he lifted his hidden eye's vantage point and searched, turning in a slow circle to find Vandra. A dim haze wavered to the west. She was alive. Gavin crawled as best he could in that direction, swaying on his hands and knees. He had to stop every few feet to regain his balance. "Hold on, Vandra," he said. "I'm coming."

From the dark forest ahead, he heard a m.u.f.fled wheeze and tried to crawl faster, though he often went off-course or stumbled onto his side from swaying too much and had to veer back. The sound was closer now, and he made out the dim form of her p.r.o.ne body. His hand touched her foot, and he patted her leg as he felt his way to her shoulders. The injury was a bright red pulse on her haze. "Hold on. I got you." He put his big, heavy hands on her - one on her belly below the wound, the other on her upper chest - and let the magical force begin to flow through him. His hands warmed quickly, growing so hot, he gritted his teeth to force himself not to pull back in reflex. When the pain became almost unbearable, everything in his consciousness turned white like a fog and the pain vanished. A fluttering sensation resonated within him, starting in his gut and moving up his torso through his arms. Her haze grew denser, and the red spot dimmed as its throbbing slowed. At last, when his hands cooled to a gentle warmth, he collapsed to the ground, panting, and looked up at the night sky through the trees.

"Gavin?" Daia called. "Where are you?"

"Over here," Gavin said, though it came out sounding like oar ear. "Found her."

"What?"

If ever Gavin wished for the ability to communicate the way the Elyle of the mid-realm did with their complements, through thought, it was now. "h.e.l.l," he muttered. "Wait... there." Beside him, Vandra stirred. He pushed himself up, resting on one arm, and put a hand on her arm to comfort her. "You'll be awright."

She felt her belly, now scarred but healed. "Thank you." As she struggled to sit up, she said, "I'm so dizzy." Her voice was raw and raspy.

"We all are. Rest. It will pa.s.s." He pulled her cloak over her and then cast another canopy spell to keep them dry.

He didn't remember falling asleep, but when he awoke, he was covered with a cloak, though underneath it he was wet. The rain canopy had vanished at some point, perhaps when he'd fallen asleep, since he hadn't stored the spell in a gem. Vandra was sitting nearby repairing the cut bridle reins. Beside him was a patch of darkened earth where her blood had spilled. The sun had risen, though with the dark clouds overhead, it was difficult to tell how high it was in the sky. Sounds of conversation came from the camp site.

"Glad to see you've recovered a bit," she said. "I don't know how to thank you for what you did."

"Don't mention it." In years past, he'd have explained that saving people was how he made his living, hinting that payment as valour-gild would have been sufficient thanks. For some reason, that embarra.s.sed him now. People should help each other because it was the decent thing to do, not because there was money to be made. Now that he was king, it was his responsibility to keep people safe, even those charged with guarding his life. "Let's see your wound. Does anything hurt?"

She lifted the bottom of the mail and her tunic. "No, it doesn't hurt." The injury was healed, but an ugly scar remained, b.u.mpy and jagged. It looked more like the scar from an animal attack than a stab wound.

"Sorry about the scar," he said. "I'm no surgeon."

"No, you're my king who saved my life. I don't know how I could ever repay the debt except by renewing my pledge to serve you for all my remaining days, though-" Vandra hung her head. "It's my fault Cirang escaped. I'll understand if you no longer want my service."

Gavin thought it was ironic that Daia had objected to Brawna coming along because of her rawness, but the elder, more experienced fighter had been the one to let her guard down. It wasn't a mistake she was likely to make again. "O'course I still want your service. We'll find her. Don't worry. We're lucky no one was killed. How did she get the serragan powder?"

"I don't know, my liege. She never got close enough to the shelves to get it from there. The little wooden box was empty when I found it, else I wouldn't've let her have it."

Gavin nodded. It was a moot point, he supposed. What was done couldn't be changed now. The dizziness had faded enough that he thought he could stand, though he did stumble at first, and his steps were unsteady. Vandra took his arm as if he was a feeble old man, and he pulled away. "I'm fine."

"Good," Daia said. She was sitting with Brawna beside the fire warming some bread. "You're awake. Are you all right to ride?"

"Once I find my-"

She picked up Aldras Gar and smiled.

"-sword." When Gavin took Aldras Gar from her, the relief of having it back in his hand made his shoulders relax. It wasn't alive, but his bond with it was just as strong as the one with his horse. He slipped his arm through the strap and positioned the scabbard on his back. He went to Brawna. "Hold out your hands. Let me see."

Though the bleeding had stopped, the cuts on her hands from Cirang's knife were raw, red wounds that could break open at any moment. He grasped her wrists and focused through the gems in Aldras Gar, noting to himself how much easier it was to heal with their aid.

Once her cuts had sealed closed with new, pink flesh, he said, "I see you haven't found the shackle key yet."

"It'll be difficult to ride like this," Daia said, "but we can manage until we get to the Lucky Inn and find a smith to make one or cut the cuffs off."

"d.a.m.n that b.l.o.o.d.y b.i.t.c.h to h.e.l.l and back," Vandra muttered. "She'd better not let anything happen to Argo or, Yrys help me, I'll pound her to death with my fists."

"Awright, Vandra. Calm yourself. We'll get him back for you. Let's get moving. Every minute we waste is a dozen yards Cirang gets farther away." Golam, with his bridle removed, had begun to wander during his relentless pursuit of food. He was going to get his foolish self lost. "Golam," Gavin called. "Come this way, mule."

Gavin started towards his horse, intending to lead him back to the campsite, and on the way, he scanned the ground. Finding the key in the gra.s.s and weeds would take hours of scouting around, one square foot at a time. He wondered whether he could pull it to him using his magic even if he didn't see it. One shackle key looked like the next. With the memory of its shape in his mind, he pulled with his will. Nothing happened. Nothing substantial, though he did sense something... twitch. Was it a movement in the weeds? He tried again, this time turning in a slow circle, pulling the key with his thoughts. The gra.s.s behind him whispered, and then something hit him in the shoulder blade hard enough to sting. It fell to the ground with a light thump. He turned around to find the key lying at his feet. "Heh. Look what I found." He picked it up and showed it to his companions. "It was almost under your noses."

"You found it over there?" Brawna asked. "We were looking in the wrong place."

"You cheated," Daia said. "I can feel when you use my gift to cast magic."

Gavin chuckled as he tossed it to her. He hadn't consciously tapped into her conduit gift, but thinking back on it, he had drawn strength from her to pull the key. It felt more natural to do so than even using his own gems did.

They packed their belongings and mounted. "Vandra's lost a lot of blood," Daia said, "and she'll be weak until she recovers. Maybe Brawna and Vandra should ride back to Tern."

"If Cirang's going to the wellspring," Vandra said, "you'll need me to guide you."

"You know where it is?"

"I saw the map in the journal, and I remember it exactly."

Gavin chuckled and squeezed her shoulder. "We're lucky to have you with us."

"She could draw it for us," Daia suggested.

Vandra pleaded with her eyes. "I'll regain my strength with a couple good meals, my liege. I prefer to come with you."

"Then she comes." Gavin looked to the east. That was the direction the freshest set of hoof prints went. Cirang would surely turn north or south at the crossroad rather than continuing east towards Tern. With Vandra's memory, they could predict where she was heading. With Daia's help, he could find her haze. "To the Lucky Inn. If we ride hard, we can make it by dark."

Chapter 27.

The Lucky Inn sat at a crossroads in a village Gavin never learned the name of, with the road to Ambryce leading south, Lalorian north and Tern east. Under normal circ.u.mstances, he would have enjoyed an evening drinking ale and relaxing with his friends, but with a dangerous fugitive on the road, his only thought was to take a meal and keep riding. They had another couple hours of travel ahead, but his growling stomach insisted they stop.

"We'll stop to eat," he said, "and ride on for a couple more hours."

"Agreed," Daia said. "Cirang's probably expecting us to stop riding for the night. It'll let us close the distance."

After pa.s.sing through the gates, they were met by an enthusiastic pair of stable hands with little enough to do. When the boys took the names of their newest arrivals to ensure the right horses were returned to them later, their eyes went round.

"Gavin Kinshield the k-king?" the older one asked.

"The same. See that Golam gets a handful o'alfalfa and no more, will you? He'll want more, but too much will make him sick."

"Yes, my lord- um, I mean, Your Majesty. O'course. He'll receive the best o'care, Your Majesty. Right away, Your Majesty."

The other, meanwhile, had fled towards the inn, yelling, "Papa! Papa! Come quick!" The innkeeper, almost as tall as Gavin but slimmer than Brawna, came out, being dragged by the hand by the younger boy. "It's King Gavin. See? I told you!"

Gavin knew him by sight, having stayed at the inn countless times, but had never learned the man's name. In fact, he might owe for unpaid visits. He held out a hand, which the innkeeper shook heartily.

"Welcome back, Your Majesty," he said. "It's always a pleasure to have you stay with us."

That was doubtful. Gavin had gotten stumbling drunk here on more than on occasion. "I wasn't sure you'd recognize me. I might owe you a few coins."

"Think nothing of it, my liege," the innkeeper said, bowing. "I'll have our best room prepared for you, though had I known you were comin'-"

"We're not staying the night, just stopping for a meal."

"Oh! It's quite dark for ridin'."

"We'll manage."

The innkeeper gestured towards the dining and betting hall, unusually quiet that evening. "In that case, let's waste no more time seeing you and your companions fed. It would be my great pleasure to provide your meals and drinks free of charge. Won't you follow me?" At Gavin's nod, he led the way through the double doors of the dining hall.

Gavin was surprised by the sight before him as he entered. The pit was empty. The usual crowd of eager gamblers, standing before the table waving their coins in the air, was gone. On the deck circling the pit, dozens of empty tables stood like gravestones. Fewer than a dozen people sat in the usually loud and raucous hall. There was a family of five, whose children played with wooden figurines on the table while they ate, three nuns from the Temple of Asti-nayas, whose white, hooded robes obscured their hair and b.r.e.a.s.t.s from immodest glances, and three battlers who were just as boisterous as battlers normally were when gathered together to share tales.

The innkeeper asked them to sit wherever they would like, and then scurried into the kitchen, barking orders.

The room went quiet. Gavin nodded to the nuns, who stared at him with mouths agape. "Domi," he said, using their t.i.tles out of respect. He also smiled and nodded at the family and wished them a good evening.

A chair sc.r.a.ped loudly on the floor as a tall, scraggly-bearded warrant knight stood. "Well, well." Calinor's beard was a little grayer, the lines framing his eyes a little deeper, but his smile was wider than Gavin had ever seen it as he approached.

Gavin offered his hand, but Calinor pulled him into a tight, brotherly embrace instead.

"Gavin, d.a.m.n it's good to see you're still alive," Calinor said as he pulled back, laughter shining in his eyes, along with something else. Something akin to pride. "Someone's angry husband ha'nt caught up to you yet?"

"No, but if he comes here looking for me," Gavin started with a grin.

"I ha'nt seen you," Calinor finished. It was an old joke they repeated on every meeting. "Would you look at you, all cleaned up and shiny, and with a new sword, too."

"Yeh, though sometimes I think it's more than just a sword." Gavin pulled it from its scabbard to show to his friend.

The blacksmith had used a unique pattern welding technique that gave the blade the appearance of scales. Two intertwined snakes formed the hilt, with the head of one snake as the pommel, and the head of the other at the junction of guard and blade. Four of the five gems he'd received from deciphering the King's Runes made the snakes' eyes. It was more than a weapon; it was a work of art.

Calinor whistled his admiration. "Never seen anything like that. You get it dirty yet?"

"Plenty. You're looking good, Calinor. How've you been?"

"Spent the summer in Calsojourn helpin' my nephew train for the joustin' tournament, but it's time to get back to work. How the h.e.l.l are you, my friend?"

"The work is tough, but I ain't hungry anymore." Gavin laughed and patted his belly and then realized he'd lapsed into his old speech habits. Daia rolled her eyes at him, but she said nothing.

"I'm glad to know you've taken a wife. I hear she makes a good queen."

"The best," Gavin replied with a smile. "Come to Tern and I'll introduce you." He introduced his companions to his friend. Calinor was the first warrant knight Gavin had ever befriended, as honorable and loyal as they came. They'd traveled, fought and shared many a meal together as warrant knights. It was a lifestyle that suited Gavin and one he often pined for of late.

The others at Calinor's table had approached as well, and Gavin greeted them with a handshake. "Kesse, good to see you." Mikesse had started balding young, while at the same time sprouting hair everywhere else, and a lot of it. When he was shirtless, Mikesse looked like a blond bear. He was a good man and a fine battler, but he was known best for botching every joke he tried to tell.

"And you. Let me buy you a drink," Mikesse said with a grip so tight it was nearly painful. He'd originally been warranted years ago by the corrupt Lordover Ambryce, but when the old lordover died and his son inherited the t.i.tle, all the former lordover's existing warrants were rescinded. Mikesse was distraught, having served his warrant lord with integrity for years. Gavin brought him before the Lordover Lalorian to speak on his behalf. Mikesse received a new warrant, and had been buying Gavin ales ever since.

Finally, Gavin offered his hand to Fyncent, a short buck with unruly, black hair and an eye for tough women.

"Good to see you again, Gavin. Guess I should call you King Gavin now." Though Fyncent spoke to Gavin, his eyes darted to Daia.

"I'm in the company of friends. Call me what you always have."

"It's a good thing, Barto ain't here," Mikesse said. "Your champion would cut him down for callin' you what he always has."

The men laughed, looking appreciatively at Daia.

"Who's Barto?" she asked.

Fyncent snorted. "Prob'ly the ugliest, most ill-tempered and foul-mouthed buck who ever lived. I can't say what he calls Gavin without blushin'." He winked at her.

"Mind if we join you?" Gavin asked, gesturing to the table where they'd been sitting.

Calinor grabbed two chairs from a nearby table. "We'd be insulted if you didn't."

Before Gavin could take his seat, Daia held him back with a grip on his arm. "Do you trust these bucks?" she asked quietly.

"I do. I've known them for years."

"And their hazes don't tell you something's amiss?"

He studied her for a moment, wondering whether she had a reason to be uneasy. He unfocused his eyes and scanned them, but nothing in their hazes gave him pause. "No. Is something wrong?"

"No. Just being cautious with my king's well-being." She took a seat beside Gavin, and Fyncent sat so close beside Daia, his thigh brushed hers. She shot him a scowl and scooted her chair a couple inches farther from him.

As Gavin settled into his chair, he noticed the nuns and the family staring at him, whispering amongst themselves. He thought about inviting them to join him, but for one evening, he just wanted to relax with friends and be himself instead of having to act like a king.

"Listen," Daia said, "we're pursuing an escaped criminal - a former Sister. We could use your swords, if you're willing."

Calinor nodded definitively. "My sword's yours, Gavin."

"A Viragon Sister," Fyncent said, rubbing his chin with a lascivious grin. "Sounds like good sport, but I've committed to accompanying those nuns over there to Delam."

"She nearly killed Vandra and would've killed the rest of us," Daia said. "This is a skilled and dangerous battler, not sport."