My Lady Mage: A Warriors of the Mist Novel (31 page)

All of which made him wonder how the duke had found out before Fagan had. Did he have spies among the men who served the keep? Fagan thought it likely. After all, it was what he’d do if their roles were reversed.

“And your niece? What of her? Was your man able to tell you anything about her situation?”

Fagan had yet to come to terms with her treachery. He figured Olaf had exaggerated the strength of the attacking force to make himself look less the coward for surrendering the keep so quickly. Even so, where had Merewen managed to find allies willing to fight on her behalf? What had she promised them? She had nothing of value to offer except the horses—or herself.

He cut off that line of thought. If she was trading her wares for protection, the last person he wanted to learn of it was sitting right in front of him. If the truth wouldn’t work, he settled for a believable lie.

“She was taken prisoner as was my own lady wife, my lord. With your permission, I will return to my keep to dislodge the usurpers as soon as my men have rested.”

His fingers steepled, the duke stared down at him. The chill of his gaze left Fagan convinced his actions were
being weighed and judged—and somehow he’d failed to meet the duke’s expectations.

Fagan’s late brother used to have the same expression on his face as he culled the herds of stallions that lacked the characteristics he wanted to breed into the next generation. A quick flick of the knife and they were gelded, all their fire and fierce nature gone. He shivered at the memory.

The duke was talking again.

“I made myself clear to you, Lord Fagan. Your favor with me depends entirely on your niece’s remaining untouched until I have need of her services. As your sovereign, I claimed her as my own to use as I see fit.”

Please, gods above, save him from this. A better man might worry about what Keirthan had in mind for Merewen, but right now she wasn’t the one standing before the duke in his private arena.

Fagan dropped to one knee. “Since you first expressed your interest in my niece, Sire, I have refused any and all possible suitors. Before I journeyed here, I ordered my captain to restrict her movements to limit contact with anyone from outside of my own holdings. When I left home to answer your summons, Lady Merewen remained chaste. This I swear to be true.”

Keirthan looked far from pleased. “I believe your intentions were good, Fagan. It’s your execution of those intentions that gives me cause for concern.”

Without warning, he rose to his feet and reached for the knife he’d laid upon the altar. Fagan flinched, despising himself for showing fear. He and Keirthan had much in common, including taking pleasure in watching a subordinate squirm. The difference was that Keirthan wielded a magic strong enough to burn Fagan to a crisp right where he knelt. Running would do him no good.

All he could do was remain frozen in place and pray that the duke would show mercy. A laughable idea, once
he thought about it, or it would have been if he weren’t the butt of the joke.

Keirthan caressed the blade of the knife with his fingers, his eyes glittering with an unholy fire. When he tested the point with a fingertip, the blade drew blood and drank it down greedily, leaving a small red streak in the metal.

Keirthan wandered closer, making his approach seem aimless when it was anything but random. When he smiled, Fagan almost pissed his pants.

“Your hand, please, Lord Fagan.”

The duke held out his own, palm up, and waited for him to comply. What choice did Fagan have? None. He wiped his hand dry on his tunic before offering it up.

“We both understand that men of power must make sacrifices, don’t we, Fagan?”

“Yes, my lord.” He hated the quiver in his voice. It made him appear weak and only fed Keirthan’s twisted pleasure.

“Listen well, then, Fagan. You will leave on the morrow with your men and a troop of my personal guard. With their help, you will regain control of your family’s estate. The price for my aid in this matter is your niece and your wife to use as I see fit. Are the terms acceptable?”

“Yes, Sire. You are most generous.”

“Good. I am pleased that we understand each other. However, there a couple of small details. First, you will swear to me in blood that you will succeed or die trying.”

“Yes, Sire, I so swear.”

“And if your niece is no longer a virgin, you will personally join her in the ceremony to bring forth my full power from the darkness.”

The taste of such bitter fear was unfamiliar to Fagan. Normally, he was the one in a position of power, watching others squirm. Not this time. He fought to control the
shaking in his hands and somehow found the strength to simply nod.

Keirthan shouted to the ceiling, “Let it be so sworn!”

Then in a flash of silver, he brought the knife slashing downward to lay Fagan’s palm open to the bone. He screamed in pain as the blood spurted from the deep wound. The knife drank his blood before any could spill down onto the floor. The blade slowly changed from mirror bright to a dark crimson that pulsed in time to Fagan’s heartbeat.

As Fagan’s head grew dizzy from blood loss, Keirthan murmured words in a language that grated on the ear. He couldn’t discern their dark meaning, but the wound on his palm slowly sealed shut until all that was left was a pale scar.

It did nothing to lessen his pain.

Keirthan helped Fagan to rise to his feet. “Go now, my friend. Rest and regain your strength. Tomorrow you will ride as if your life depended on it.”

He smiled again, showing far too many teeth. “As indeed it does.”

Clutching his aching hand to his chest, Fagan forced himself to walk with dignity as he crossed the room. The fire glowed brightly in the pit but no longer had the power to warm him, not when the chill of his fear went bone deep. He had to get out there, back to where he could breathe and collect himself.

And as Fagan made his way to the distant door, the duke’s laughter chased after him. As he hurried back down the tunnel, the shadows seemed to whisper that there was no place to run where Keirthan couldn’t follow.

“M
urdoch! Fetch Gideon. Kane, too.”

Having issued his demands from the top of the stairs, Duncan disappeared back in the direction of the library. Averel gave Murdoch a puzzled look, but he just shrugged.

“Obviously the damned fool thinks we’re his messenger boys.” Murdoch smiled and tested the blade of his favorite knife for sharpness. “Ordinarily, I would show our friend Duncan what I think about that idea, but I’m guessing he’s finally found something of use in all those dusty manuscripts and scrolls.”

He finished the last of his wine and stood up. “You find the captain. He’s usually doing weapons training with the guards about now. I’ll hunt down Kane.”

Averel whistled for his dogs and headed outside. They raced across the hall, tripping over each other to be the first out the door. Shadow, on the other hand, took her time standing up. She stretched, leaning back on her haunches.

Murdoch gave up waiting for the cat to get moving. She’d follow if she was so inclined. He headed toward the carpenter’s workshop, figuring that was where he’d find Kane.

Sure enough, he could hear the deep rumble of his voice. When he was a short distance from the door, he called out, “Kane, Duncan has summoned us to the library.”

His friend peeked out the door. “Tell him I’ll be along presently. We’re almost finished.”

“You tell him. He wants us now.”

Kane frowned. “Has he found something?”

“He didn’t say, but he wouldn’t call us without reason.”

“I’ll be right out.” Kane ducked back inside.

Murdoch decided to wait. There was still no sign of Shadow. That cat was nothing but lazy unless there was a meal to be had or a fight to be fought.

As he waited, he tried to keep his eyes on the bailey, studying the changes Kane had wrought in the defenses in the short time since they’d driven Fagan’s men away. Impressive, but then Kane had a real talent for strategy. The improvements would provide the maximum protection for the defenders and make it that much harder for anyone to breach the walls.

But admiring his friend’s work wasn’t enough to hold Murdoch’s attention for long. All too quickly, he gave in to the urge to stare up at Lady Alina’s window, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. His conscience bothered him fiercely because of this fixation. This driving need to see her, to talk to her, to touch her, continued to grow in strength. May the gods forgive him, but he couldn’t help himself.

As he’d half hoped, Alina was up there looking back down at him. He straightened and leaned forward. Was he seeing what he thought he was? That damned animal! Shadow sat at Alina’s feet, no doubt giving him one of her smug looks that he hated. How absurd was it to be jealous of his avatar? Something else he couldn’t help.

“Your cat seems quite taken with Lady Alina.”

Murdoch jumped and spun around, drawing his dirk. When he realized it was Kane, he blew out a breath and shoved the knife back in its sheath.

“Damn it, man, don’t sneak up on me like that. You’re lucky I didn’t skewer you.”

“I wasn’t trying to be quiet, but you were too busy staring up at”—he paused to glance back toward Alina’s balcony—“your, um, cat to notice me.”

His friend was right. He’d been too entranced by Alina’s gentle beauty to notice his surroundings. If Kane had been the enemy, Murdoch would have been dead, maybe for good this time. He had to stop this.

“I was just wondering why Shadow was up there. She normally has little use for people other than me.”

He didn’t add that he envied the cat for being with Alina, for being touched by Alina, and for being able to wander into the lady’s bedroom at will.

Kane stared at the skeleton of the stable. “We’ve said before that this is all far different than our previous callings. It’s not like Gideon to…”

He stopped again as if to pick and choose his words carefully. They all knew what was going on between their leader and Merewen, but none of them knew quite what to think about it. Murdoch figured he wasn’t the only one who was worried about what effect Gideon’s actions would have on them all when judgment time came around.

They’d all know soon enough. The summer solstice grew closer every day.

Finally, Kane went on. “It’s not like Gideon to get so involved. In the past, we’ve always held ourselves aloof from the people we were called to protect. To varying degrees, none of us have remained detached this time, and I’m not sure why. Mayhap because Lady Merewen herself is not typical.”

He frowned. “She asked to meet Hob.”

That was almost unbelievable. “In truth? I’ve known Hob for centuries; yet that beast still snaps at me if I get too close.”

Kane’s chuckle sounded rusty. “Don’t take it personally, Murdoch. He treats everyone but me that way.”

So much to assimilate, but right now it was better to concentrate on his real purpose for being there. “We should go see what Duncan’s found.”

“Let’s hope he has made some progress.”

The grim note in Kane’s voice hadn’t been there only seconds before. Nothing ever frightened the dark warrior, but right now he was staring at the keep gate as if he saw some horror that Murdoch could not discern.

“What is it that you sense out there?”

Rather than answer Murdoch’s question directly, Kane simply said, “As I said, pray Duncan has answers.”

Averel and the captain stood waiting outside the library door when Murdoch arrived. Gideon shifted restlessly. “Duncan said to wait out here while he went down to the kitchen to persuade the cook to send up a tray for us. Seems he expects this to take a while.”

Although some food and drink did appeal, Murdoch complained anyway. “And did he mention why we couldn’t just go in and sit down?”

Gideon shrugged. “Perhaps he doesn’t trust us around all the books and manuscripts he’s been riffling through since we got here.”

That much was probably true. Duncan took such things seriously. Personally, Murdoch had never understood the appeal of spending hours upon hours shut up inside with piles of dusty books and papers. Duncan, though, would have cheerfully given up his sword in exchange for a pen and parchment. If he hadn’t chosen to follow Gideon, the man would have spent his last breath in this world with his nose in a book.

They’d all sacrificed much to stand with their captain, but sometimes Murdoch suspected Duncan had paid the
highest price. Not that he ever complained. In one way or another, Gideon had saved each of them, infusing them with a sense of worth and offering his unswerving loyalty. They all owed him, but they’d followed him out of friendship, not duty.

Footsteps on the stairs announced the scholar’s return. And from the curses he was muttering, Duncan wasn’t alone. Sure enough, both of Averel’s dogs, Shadow, and even Hob came barreling around the corner, heading straight for the library.

If there was one word all of the avatars understood, it was food. Duncan was definitely not happy about their joining the party. He stopped short of the library and glared at the animals and then at their masters.

“Can’t you control these monsters? They cannot be allowed in the library.”

Usually Murdoch would have enjoyed seeing the normally fastidious Duncan looking ragged around the edges. However, now wasn’t the time for it.

“Shadow, make yourself scarce.”

The big cat promptly plopped herself down at his side and began licking her paws while Hob wove in and out between his master and Gideon. Meanwhile, the dogs both whined and tried to sniff both the gargoyle and the cat; neither appreciated their efforts.

“Perhaps they would enjoy visiting me.”

Murdoch’s heart did a slow roll in his chest as they all turned to face Lady Alina. Shadow was already on her way to the lady’s side. The dogs stumbled over each other, trying to be the first to get petted. Hob tasted the air in her direction before making his approach. It seemed that yet another member of the household had the power to charm the avatars.

Duncan bowed slightly. “If you’re sure, my lady.”

Murdoch clenched his fists. Alina was not Duncan’s lady, even though Duncan had used the expression solely
out of courtesy. In truth, she wasn’t Murdoch’s, either, which was what had him gritting his teeth.