Well Of The Damned Part 26

"Give me the message. I'll make sure he gets it."

Cirang shook her head. "I deserve punishment for my crimes, and I'll submit to it peaceably, but he deserves the opportunity to question me to his satisfaction before I die." She gestured to the onlookers, whose numbers were growing every moment. "Are you prepared to explain to these people why you killed an unarmed nun who surrendered to you?"

"We don't care why. Kill her!" someone said.

"You're no nun," Brawna said. "You're only dressed as one."

"You speak the truth. I'm no nun," Cirang said loudly, looking around at the spectators. "I'm an impostor. I've committed heinous crimes for which I deserve execution."

"Kill her!" the voice in the crowd cried.

To Brawna, Cirang said more softly, "I have important information the king desperately needs to hear, but if you were instructed to slay me without hesitation, I submit to the king's will." She knelt on the hard stone street. Her robe soaked up the rainwater on the ground, and the cold seeped into her bones. The day was dreary, but her life was dismal. Never had she felt uglier or more worthless. "Though I don't deserve your mercy, I beg you to give me a quick death."

"Kill! Kill! Kill!" two voices chanted. Then three. Then more.

Cirang clenched her eyes tightly shut, waiting for her third and final death. The sound of rain falling drowned out all but the pounding of her heart. She deserved this death, but like the coward she was, she feared the instant of pain before her life ended.

Instead, a hand gripped her arm and pulled her to her feet, to the crowd's grumbled dismay. "You are an impostor," Brawna said, "not the Cirang Deathsblade I know. You'll answer to the king for your deceit." She picked up the knapsack and weapons. "Let's go."

They marched wordlessly to the Good Knight Inn and entered the office. The innkeeper came out of the adjacent room, his one hand on his hip. "What's goin' on here? Doma, are you all right?"

"She's no nun," Brawna snapped. "It's Cirang." Recognition rounded the innkeeper's eyes and mouth. "I need you to bring my horse and an extra. I'm taking her to King Gavin."

"You and your friend took the white horse back with you last night, remember?"

"Then I need to borrow one," Brawna said. "If I don't return it, you can take the matter up with King Gavin. You two are old friends, right?"

He stepped outside, put two fingers into his mouth and whistled shrilly. Moments later, the stable hand came running around the corner. "Fetch the First Royal's mount, and bring Lizzie too."

The boy looked at Cirang with the slack jaw of youth. "Saddled?"

"Yes, saddled. Run, boy," the innkeeper said.

"When you see Calinor, tell him I found her and took her to the king." Brawna said.

"I will," the innkeeper said.

"Calinor's alive?" Cirang asked. "Oh, praise the light. He's alive." Her knees weakened with relief, and she let herself sink to them. "He's alive."

Brawna gaped at her. "Who are you?"

"King Gavin left maybe an hour ago," the one-handed man said. "Didn't say much, but I could tell he was fumin'. You don't know what happened to get him so red, do you?"

Brawna shook her head and looked at Cirang. "It's probably your fault, whatever it is."

Cirang hung her head, recalling the talk in the tavern. "It is. It's my fault." Adro would probably be imprisoned. Or worse.

Brawna rummaged through the knapsack, pulled out the dirty tunic and trousers and tossed them at Cirang. "Put these on. I won't let you milk sympathy from anyone by wearing those robes a minute longer."

Cirang presented her side to the innkeeper so he wouldn't glimpse her private parts when she pulled the trousers up over her hips. Though she had her corset on, which covered her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, she turned her back to him to pull off the robe and quickly pulled the tunic over her head. Once she was dressed, she tossed the robe back to Brawna, who stuffed it into the sack.

The stable hand yelled that he was back. Cirang put the cloak back on and preceded Brawna outside to find a saddled horse waiting, a spry black mare. She approached the animal cautiously, hoping it wouldn't object too much to her presence. The mare stood still while she mounted, even looked back at her as if in greeting.

"This is Lizzie. Be kind to her and she won't buck you off," the boy said, handing the reins up.

"Give them to me," Brawna said. "She's my prisoner. I'll have the horse returned by morning."

Cirang reached forward and rubbed Lizzie's neck. "Thank you," she said to the innkeeper. The words felt foreign on her tongue, having not spoken them in perhaps years, but the grat.i.tude was genuine. With her head bowed, she followed Brawna through the gloomy city, hoping the king would hesitate long enough to hear her warning before he struck her down.

Chapter 48.

When Adro and the other battlers reached the lordover's property and had the horses and carriage seen to by the stable master, they accompanied Feanna to the guesthouse. No one said a word until they were inside. All Adro could think of was the feeling of her lips on his, her arms around his neck, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s in his hands. His thoughts were like arrows, focused on their target and striking with deadly accuracy. She was his. All he had to do was form a plan to get her husband out of the way.

"Adro," Feanna said as she tugged off her gloves and removed her hat and rain cloak, "I want to speak with you privately. The rest of you can wait out here. Do not, under any circ.u.mstances, permit any interruption."

"Your Majesty," Tennara said, "considering Adro's behavior at the temple, I think a chaperone is wise."

"If I want to know what you think, Tennara, I'll ask." Feanna went into her guest chamber and beckoned Adro with a finger. The grin on her face was both wicked and l.u.s.ty. He started to follow, but Tennara gripped his arm.

"Mind yourself," she whispered fiercely. "You're going to have to answer to King Gavin."

He jerked his arm out of her grasp and shut the door in her face. He barred it from the inside. When he turned around, Feanna was sitting on the bed, unlacing her boots.

"My queen," he said, approaching. "Permit me to a.s.sist you." When she extended her boot towards him, the skirt of her gown fell back to reveal her leg to the lower thigh. He could barely contain himself as he pulled the laces and tugged her boot off.

"You mustn't tell my husband I let you kiss me," she said. "Or undress me. Or have your way with me."

His body reacted to those words in a most profound way. "I wouldn't tell him," Adro said as he began to unlace her other boot. His voice came out hoa.r.s.ely. "He'd have my head. Run away with me, Feanna. We'll go where he won't find us."

She scowled. "And forfeit my wonderful life at the palace, with cooks to feed me and servants to wipe my a.r.s.e? Though your dimples be charming and your tongue delicious, they aren't worth giving up my opulent lifestyle, dear Adro."

"But how can we keep this secret when those wenches out there saw what they saw?"

"Don't worry about that. I'll swear them to secrecy. They're sworn to obey me. If they dare tell the king, I'll have you execute them for treason."

He grinned. "And the king?" Adro pulled her boot off and tossed it away. "If he finds out, he won't let me do this." He let his hands explore her shapely calf, wondering whether she'd always shaved her legs or if she'd only started since becoming queen. Her skin was soft and smooth from her ankle to her knee. "Or this." He bent his head and kissed her ankle, her shin, her calf, her knee.

She giggled and lay back, spreading her arms over the satin bed cover. "Once my prince is born, we won't need Gavin any longer. I'll rule as regent until my son comes of age."

"And what role do you see for me?" Adro asked. He slid one hand up her skirt and trailed it along the inside of her thigh as he positioned himself beside her on the bed.

Feanna's arms went around his neck and pulled him to her while she hooked one leg around his hip, trapping his hand between their bodies. "You'll be my personal a.s.sistant. And I'll need a lot of a.s.sistance."

He covered her mouth with his own and let his fingers work their magic.

"Gavin," Daia said, trying to keep up with his much longer stride, "you're angry, and rightfully so-"

"You're d.a.m.ned right I'm angry," he shouted. He didn't care who overheard him as he stormed from the stable to the guesthouse. He wasn't sure who he would lash first - Feanna or the traitor who dared to kiss her. "That b.a.s.t.a.r.d will lose his right nut for this."

"Let me deal with Adro. If you kill him, even accidentally, you'll have a hard time explaining it."

"And who the h.e.l.l would I need to explain myself to? I'm the b.l.o.o.d.y king, and he attacked my wife."

"Gavin!" She ran ahead of him and stopped him with a stiff arm against his chest, surprising him once again with her strength. "Stop for just a moment. Listen to what I'm saying. You can't kill Adro for kissing your wife. That's not a crime punishable by death."

"I ain't planning to kill him." He pushed her out of his way and kept walking. "Death would be too easy."

"Please don't rule by your anger. Let me arrest him and give you time to consider a proper punishment."

He shot her a hard glare. Though he understood what she was trying to do, he wasn't interested in approaching the situation with logic and restraint. It wasn't only Adro's lapse he needed to address but his own. A husband was supposed to protect his wife. He'd failed the first time, and today, he failed again. As he neared the guesthouse, he heard shouting.

"He's not in his right mind," a woman yelled.

"She said no one's to disturb them," another hollered.

"Lila, you should be leading us, not her."

"Yeh, kill her and take her place."

"You deserve it. We'll say she-"

Gavin flung the door open and stepped inside. The five battlers were huddled in front of Feanna's door, faces red and bodies rigid. Lilalian and Tennara turned at the sound of Gavin's entrance.

"What the h.e.l.l is going on here?" he asked. "Is she in there?"

"Yes, my liege," Tennara said. "Adro's with her, and he's turned knave."

"So have these three," Lilalian added.

Tennara and Lilalian stepped aside when he advanced, but the others did not. "She commanded us to let no one enter," Hennah said. "And that includes you, my liege." She blocked his path with her hand on the hilt of her sword.

Daia, Tennara and Lilalian drew swords. Mirrah and Anya started to draw as well, but sword tips at their throats stayed their hands. Hennah, Anya and Mirrah backed into the sitting room at sword point.

Gavin tried to open the door to Feanna's chamber, but it was bolted shut. He pounded on it with the underside of his fist. "Open the door!"

"Gavin? Is that you?" Feanna asked from inside. He heard rustling and footsteps and sounds he couldn't identify.

"Open this d.a.m.ned door," he hollered.

To his left, Daia was confiscating weapons, and Tennara was binding wrists.

"Just a moment," Feanna sang.

"Now!" He squared his shoulder to the door and rammed it. It cracked but held. He hit it twice more before it gave way.

Feanna was in bed, naked, clutching the bed covers to herself. The window was open. "Gavin, I was getting up to answer the door. You didn't want me to answer it naked, did you?"

"Where is he?" he demanded, advancing on her.

"Where is who?" Her expression was the picture of innocence, but there was something terribly wrong with her. Her presence filled him with repugnance.

"What the h.e.l.l's the matter with you?" He took her by the arms and looked into her eyes, searching for some indication of wrongdoing. Guilt. Something to explain why her- No. No, it can't be. Her haze was black and turbulent like that of a beyonder.

He turned away, suddenly sick to his stomach. With his mouth watering, he stumbled outside and vomited into the hedge. Feanna. His dear, lovely Feanna. How could that have happened? Cirang must have fed her the wellspring water, but how had she gotten it? His heart ached as his stomach heaved again. His eyes watered. She was gone. The woman he'd married was as good as dead, and in her place was a cruel, vicious monster who everyone thought was the queen. A monster carrying his unborn son.

How had the water affected the baby in her womb?

"My liege," someone said, "can I help you?" He looked up into Tennara's face and saw kindness and concern.

"Find him. And bring me some water, will you?"

Adro hid in the wardrobe, utterly naked, hoping Kinshield would think he'd escaped. He'd opened the window to make it look as if he'd climbed through it. He heard their m.u.f.fled voices through the wardrobe doors and breathed as quietly as he could. When he heard someone retching - he a.s.sumed it was the king - he had to put a fist into his mouth to stifle a laugh. What a milksop.

The doors flew open, and he gasped up into the face of the king's very angry champion. Her pale-blue eyes were alight with fury. Before he had a chance to concoct an explanation for his presence there, she grabbed him by the hair and pulled him out. The pain in his scalp made his eyes water. "Ow! Let go, wench."

He ended up falling to his hands and knees on the hard wood floor, along with a few of Feanna's shoes that had been in the wardrobe with him.

"You have until I count to five to dress," Daia said, "otherwise, I'm taking you to gaol as you are."

"Fine," he said, holding up his hands. "My clothes are under the bed." He lay on his stomach and reached for the wad of clothing. The first handful was silken - Feanna's dress - and he pushed it aside. Then he felt the rougher cotton and pulled it out. He rose to his feet, watching Daia's eyes flick down the length of his body. "Like what you see? I've got enough for you, too." He tried to reach around her waist with one arm, but then pain exploded in his nose, the blow snapping his head back. His hand went to it instinctively and came away b.l.o.o.d.y. The wetness trickled down over his mouth and chin. "b.l.o.o.d.y wench!" He swung at her with a fist and found himself face down on the bed. She pushed his head into the mattress.

"Don't be an idiot," she said. "Surrender or die."

"All right," he said. "I relent."

She let him go, and he pushed himself to his feet. Adro glared at her for a moment, calculating the number of steps between him and his sword that he left leaning against the wall behind her. He pulled his trousers on and laced them. "Show her what you got, Fe. Maybe she's more interested in you than me." Feanna giggled and lowered the bed covers, revealing her nudity. Daia didn't look, but he could see she was distracted by the move. He stepped in with a hooking punch that connected with her left cheek and sent her sprawling. He lunged for the sword. From the corner of his eye, he saw a figure engulf the doorway, and then he was flying.

He slammed into the wall with his right side and lost his grip on the sword. Though the sword clattered to the floor, Adro remained stuck to the wall like a fly in honey. He squirmed and wriggled, managing only to shift so that his back was to the wall, but his feet dangled two feet above the floor. The ceiling was only inches from his head.

From this position, he saw Gavin Kinshield, his left arm extended, palm outward. His eyes glowed almost as brilliantly as did the gems in the hilt of his sword. His teeth were gritted, and slowly his fingers closed as if he were squeezing water from a rock. A drop of blood crawled from one nostril down his upper lip, clung there for a moment, and then fell with a light plop to the floor. Another followed, and another, though he seemed not to notice.

An ache started in Adro's heart and quickly worsened to a sharp pain. He felt its beat weaken and slow. His thoughts dimmed, and a film of white formed over his vision, like a fog growing thicker by the moment. He couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. Distantly, he heard people crying, "Gavin! Stop!" Just when the fog covered everything and the shouts faded to silence, he felt himself falling. His body hit the floor, shocking him awake with a gasp. His sword. It was only inches away. He reached for it, but just as his fingers touched the hilt, it flew towards Gavin's open hand and slapped into his palm.

Daia fell onto Adro's back, pressing one knee into his spine. "Lila," she shouted. "Bring something to tie him with."

From where he lay on the floor, Adro could feel the hatred emanating from Gavin, though his eyes were no longer glowing. Feanna wrapped the bedsheet around her body and ran to Gavin's side. "Gavin, thank goodness you've come. He forced himself on me. It was awful! I was so frightened."

"Lying wh.o.r.e!" Adro said. "She's been giving herself to me since before you were even married." It was a lie, but Gavin's magic vision had failed him when he used it on Cirang. It was his word against hers, and she'd turned on him. She deserved it. "The baby in her belly's not even yours, Kinshield." Adro laughed. He hadn't planned to say that, but it was perfect. Even if Kinshield suspected he was lying, it would plant a seed of doubt and worry him for the rest of his days. "That's my son she carries."

Lilalian came into the room and tossed Daia a thick leather thong, which she used to bind Adro's wrists behind his back.