My Lady Mage: A Warriors of the Mist Novel (18 page)

There was no use in denying the truth. “I don’t ignore all orders, just the ones I don’t agree with.”

Such as the ones her uncle issued. Her smile faded, the fun gone out of the conversation. Duncan saw too much.

He straightened up, once again the grim-faced warrior who’d walked out of the river at his captain’s side. “You were having trouble with your uncle and his man, Olaf, down in the hall a few minutes ago.”

It wasn’t a question. “Uncle Fagan has been called to Duke Keirthan’s court again. He’ll be leaving at dawn with a company of his men. As captain of the guard, Olaf will be in charge while he is gone.”

The thought set her stomach to churning. Someday, when he slipped into her bedroom at night, he would do more than watch her sleep. The one time she’d barred her door to keep him out had been the first time her uncle had raised his hand to her.

“We will endeavor to see you come to no harm, my lady.”

Duncan meant it, she knew, but fear had become her constant shadow, and it was hard to let it go. Besides, if Fagan were to order Duncan to leave, he’d have no choice but to depart. Rather than think about what she could not control, she gestured toward the books strewn about the table. It would appear that Duncan had been following a thread of information.

“Have you had any luck in finding what you seek?”

“Not as yet.” He picked up the volume closest to him and ran his fingertips over the cover, a sad smile on his face. “I wish I could have met your father, Lady Merewen. I’m sure he and I would have had much to talk about.
This is an impressive library for one man to have collected. It has been far too long since I had the opportunity to spend time on my studies.”

He looked around the room, his expression hungry. “It would take me a lifetime to catch up on all that I have missed while we’ve been…gone from the world.”

She had so many questions but suspected Duncan would not welcome them any more than his captain would have. The Warriors from the River of the Damned definitely had their secrets. As much as she wanted to know Gideon’s truth, she wanted to hear it from him, not peck at his men for the few tidbits they might share.

Back to why Duncan had asked to see her. “Is there something that requires my help?”

“Yes. I’ve barely begun to search through the books. I was wondering if you could point me in the direction where you found the volume that allowed you to call us from the river. I’m thinking that would be where your father kept the oldest of the manuscripts.”

“I have that particular one hidden in my room, but I will bring it to you. I found it on this shelf back here.”

She picked up the candle and carried it over to the farthest corner. “I didn’t notice anything else similar to it in content, but perhaps you’ll have more success. I’m not familiar with the old languages.”

“And I grew up speaking several of them.” Duncan’s smile no longer reached his eyes. “Thank you, my lady. I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

“I’ll go fetch that book for you.”

He shook his head. “It can wait until tomorrow. I’ll be retiring soon myself. Would you like me to escort you to your room?”

She appreciated the offer, but it would be better if they weren’t seen together. “I’ll be fine.”

For tonight, that was probably true. Olaf had been given his orders to carry out, and her uncle was otherwise
occupied. With that thought, she offered up a silent prayer to the gods for her lady aunt’s well-being.

Gideon studied the message that had arrived during the night. He’d been asleep when Scim had raised the alarm. Kiva, the great owl that was bonded with Duncan, had swooped in on silent wings to land on the fence outside. The huge bird, rivaling Scim for size, sat quietly while waiting for Gideon to pick up the leather pouch he’d dropped on the ground.

“Thanks, boy,” Gideon murmured as he pulled out the piece of paper inside.

Kane joined him outside, carrying a candle and cupping the flame with his hand to keep it burning. “What’s wrong?”

Gideon quickly scanned the brief note and then handed it off to Kane. After he finished, they stared at each other for several seconds. The decision wasn’t a difficult one.

“With Fagan gone, the keep will be at its most vulnerable. Unless Duncan and Averel are ordered to accompany him, we’ll be able to take control with a minimum of bloodshed.”

Kane, always the first to point out complications, looked toward the grasslands. “We already know that Lord Fagan is not the true reason we returned to walk the land this time. Will this divide our efforts?”

Gideon wanted to deny it. “I think the two problems are opposite sides of the same coin. I cannot imagine the gods would have answered Merewen’s call if her welfare wasn’t necessary to our purpose.”

He waited to see if his friend would argue the point. When he didn’t, Gideon considered the possibilities.

“If we take possession of her keep, we will be in a position of strength rather than skulking about in the mountains or living here in this crofter’s cottage where
we would be vulnerable to attack. At the same time, we will weaken her uncle’s hold on her people.”

Kane weighed his words before nodding. “We’ll need to send a reply to Duncan to forewarn Averel and Murdoch that we’ll be coming.”

Gideon returned to the cabin. He had no ink or pen, but the end of a burned stick would work well enough. When he’d scratched out the message, he returned to where the owl waited. He tucked the note inside the leather pouch and then offered the bird a chunk of meat for his efforts.

The owl blinked his amber eyes and delicately took the treat from Gideon’s hand with his beak. When it was gone, he took the proffered pouch and took off with a powerful downstroke of his wings.

As Kiva disappeared into the night sky, Gideon held his breath. The bird had made it to the cottage well enough, but there was always the possibility he would be attacked on the return flight. There was nothing they could do to prevent it—another reminder that they could ill afford to waste a moment of their limited time.

“Let’s get some sleep. It will be dawn soon enough, and tomorrow we ride.”

The sound of angry voices woke Merewen out of a deep sleep. Grasping the dagger under her pillow, she remained still. She’d started keeping the weapon within reach soon after her uncle had returned to take charge of the family lands. Once she’d noted the type of men he surrounded himself with, she no longer felt she could trust him.

Now, the worst of those men was right outside her door—Olaf. He was the one talking now. She strained to hear what was being said. It came as no surprise that her name was part of the conversation, especially when it was her uncle who spoke next.

“Yes, I understand, but return to the hall. You have no business here tonight.”

For once Olaf was speaking to Fagan as an equal. “I remind you that you promised your niece to me in return for my services. I grow tired of waiting.”

Her uncle’s voice carried all too clearly. “I know I did, but that was before I suspected the duke might have plans for her.”

Olaf wasn’t ready to back down. “There are many ways I can enjoy her without completely destroying her value.”

She was shocked to hear as much fear as anger in Fagan’s response. “And if you lose control? What then? Do you want to face Duke Keirthan and tell him what you have cost him? Cost us? I, for one, am not willing to thwart him, not when he grows stronger with each passing day. We both know what happens to those who cross him.”

Her blankets did nothing to ward off the chill his words sent coursing through her. If only she were dreaming, but this nightmare was only too real. She prayed the two villains would simply walk away.

Finally, their voices faded into the distance, still arguing, but at least they were gone. She remained frozen in place, fighting against the panic beating in her chest. She wanted to believe that Fagan had convinced Olaf to leave her alone for this night.

But what of tomorrow night and the one after? With Fagan gone, no one would be holding Olaf’s reins. Would she even be safe during the daylight hours? Murdoch and Averel would do their best to protect her, but only if they weren’t ordered to accompany her uncle.

That left Duncan. She didn’t doubt his prowess with a sword, but one man couldn’t stand alone against Olaf and his men. She sat up in bed, the knife still clutched in her hand. What should she do? Run? Hide?

“Lady Merewen?”

Gods, please, save her!

She leapt to her feet, knife in hand, and waited. Olaf might be too strong for her to stop, but he would bleed.

The whisper came again. “Lady, are you unharmed? Will you open the door?”

She didn’t immediately recognize the voice, but it was clearly not Olaf. He would never ask permission. Duncan—it had to be Duncan.

“I’m coming,” she promised as she hurried across the floor.

Pausing to light a single candle, she opened the door just far enough to ensure that it was indeed Sir Duncan. As soon as she recognized the tall blond warrior, she stepped back and motioned him inside.

His discomfiture at being alone with her in her bedroom was clear, which spoke well of his honorable nature. Even though she was covered from chin to toes, she was far from comfortable having a man in her private quarters.

With his gaze firmly directed over her head at the wall beyond, Duncan started talking. “I heard voices as I was leaving the library.”

He risked a glimpse in her direction. “I didn’t want to get close enough to be seen, but it was your uncle and his man.”

She nodded. Where was he going with this?

“Rest assured that had either of them made a move toward your door, I would have stopped them.” Duncan’s pale eyes flashed hard and chilling in the darkness. “On that, you have my word.”

“Thank you.”

He turned his attention back to the wall. “I also wanted to let you know that I heard from Captain Gideon a few minutes ago. He sent word with my owl that he and Kane plan to join us here tomorrow night
after sunset. The five of us should be able to wrest control of the keep while your uncle is gone.”

Her heart resumed its pounding, and her knees refused to support her. When she started to sink to the floor, Duncan muttered something under his breath and lunged forward to catch her. He supported her long enough for her to sit down on the trunk at the foot of her bed. He immediately stepped back, his hands at his side.

“I apologize, Sir Duncan. I’m not usually given to such weakness.”

“Given the circumstances, my lady, it is most understandable.”

She managed to bring herself back under control, but he was right. Within the hour, she’d been threatened with rape and then offered salvation. She could scarce believe that at long last she knew hope, but the terror still lingered. Yes, she’d planned for this, prayed for it long and hard. But now that the moment was upon her, she feared for what she’d unleashed.

Duncan remained close by, his attitude expectant, as if waiting for her to do something—probably even something sensible and coherent.

“What would you have me do to prepare? If there is to be trouble, I want to help protect my people.”

Duncan was already shaking his head. “Murdoch and Averel will find a way to let Gideon and Kane through the gate.”

There had to be a way to do that without drawing swords. It wouldn’t be unusual for her to be called out during the night.

She sat up taller. “I can help with that. Our dairyman lives along the road to the west and is a trusted friend. He’s been known to come to the gate when one of his animals is sick or hurt. No one would be suspicious of him. If your captain and Kane wait nearby, they can enter the keep when the gate opens to let me out.”

Duncan paced the length of her room and back. “Gideon will not much appreciate my putting you in harm’s way, my lady.”

“These are my people, Sir Duncan. I will aid you in every way I can.”

He offered her another of his quick grins. “I can see why you have Gideon so stirred up.”

He gave her a quick bow. “I will send word to the captain of your plans. He will not be pleased, but perhaps it is good for him to not always get his way.”

She didn’t know how to react to that. Her mind was too busy whirling in circles over what lay ahead over the next day and night.

“Be careful, Sir Duncan. My uncle and Olaf make for very bad enemies.” She paused and said, “Please tell me that we are doing the right thing.”

Duncan had been about to slip back out of her room. He froze for a heartbeat, staring at her with those feral eyes. “Never forget that the gods granted your plea that we aid your cause. They send the Damned to walk the land only in the direst of times.”

At that moment, the warrior side of Duncan’s personality outshone his scholarly nature. “Right now someone has unleashed a great evil upon your land. Innocent people have died to feed its hunger. More will die if we don’t stop it while we can—if we still can.”

Then he disappeared, pulling her door closed. She crawled back under the covers, still clutching her knife and wishing she could somehow make it all go away. Praying she’d made the right decision by calling on the gods to send Gideon and his men to free her people, she closed her eyes and shut out the frightening place her world had become.

M
erewen had not planned on seeing her uncle off, but she’d been unable to sleep more than a handful of minutes at a time after Duncan had left her room. Nightmares combined with fear for what the next day would bring had kept her tossing and turning.

The hall was chaotic as the men gathered their gear for travel while the servants moved among them with trays of drink, bread, and sliced meat. Merewen stopped halfway down the stairs, trying to locate Murdoch and Averel in the crowd. She spotted the younger warrior’s two dogs first. They were stretched out in the rushes in the far corner, clearly in no hurry to start their day.

Murdoch strode into sight. He paused only long enough to grab a fistful of bread and meat from a passing server before heading for the door. Rather than follow him directly, Merewen wandered through the hall, helping as she could before slipping into the kitchen. She cut directly through to the door that opened out into the bailey.