My Lady Mage: A Warriors of the Mist Novel (32 page)

“I would love company.” She smiled down at her four-legged suitors. “Shall we, everyone?”

As she swept away, the four animals followed in her footsteps, all behaving amazingly well. Murdoch forced himself to look away, only to realize that, except for Gideon, his friends all stared after her with a certain amount of heat in their eyes. While he might be willing to share the lady with Shadow, he had no desire at all to do the same with these fools.

He moved to stand between them and Alina’s small parade toward her quarters. “Duncan, you made this sound urgent.”

Inside the library, Gideon shut the door and grabbed an apple off the tray Duncan had brought with him. He dropped down on a bench along the wall.

“Duncan, start by explaining to everyone what you’ve found.”

The scholarly warrior took a long drink of water before he began. “I’ve concentrated my search on the oldest books and manuscripts in Merewen’s father’s collection. Kane translated a couple written in languages that predate any I was familiar with.”

He stared down at the sheath of papers covered with his precise writing. “I’ve tried to make connections that made sense from bits and pieces and vague hints.”

Averel leaned forward, rubbing the back of his neck as if it ached. “But you’ve found the answer, right? You know what’s out there?”

“Not for certain.” He shuffled through his notes until he found the one he was looking for. “Kane remembers his grandfather speaking of a magic too dangerous to be invoked by any but the strongest of mages. Even then, it would be used only for ill purpose.”

The other warrior joined in. “The gift for working with magic ran deep and true in my grandfather’s lineage, making them among the strongest of mages. He spoke of a power that, once set loose, would be impossible to contain.”

Kane pointed at the mage mark on his left cheek. “He should know. He found a grimoire that contained the spell. The old bastard offered up his daughter—his pregnant daughter—as a sacrifice. The spell failed, but it almost killed my mother and left its mark on me. The danger of trying to wield such magic is that it will consume the one foolish enough to summon it and then move on.”

Suddenly his apple had no flavor. Gideon set it aside. “So, are you saying the gods have pitted us against a force so powerful that we have no chance against it?”

Duncan stood and began to pace. “No. At least not yet. Until this darkness reaches its full strength, there’s hope. If it’s denied access to innocent blood, there’s hope. Tainted blood sustains it but doesn’t offer it new strength.

“According to the oldest texts here, just as night balances day and winter balances spring, the right kind of magic can counter the evil. However, there is nothing in these books that tells me what the right kind might be.”

He ended by saying, “As I said before, it would help if I had access to a library with a more extensive collection of the old myths and histories.”

Gideon had always been uncomfortable with anything to do with magic. Give him a good sword and a clear enemy, not whispers of darkness and power. Then he thought of Merewen and the sweet feel of her connection to the horses, a reminder that not all magic was tainted with evil.

All five men lapsed into silence, watching the soft shadows cast by the candles dancing on the walls. Finally,
Duncan crossed the crowded room to stand by the map he’d nailed to the wall. He pointed at a spot in the north of Agathia.

“This city bears the same name as the realm—Agathia. It’s where Duke Keirthan has his court. It is doubtful I could gain access to his personal library, and I’m guessing he would have already confiscated any books of value from private collections within the city walls. Assuming he’s the one behind the growing darkness, he’d want to keep the information for himself for a variety of reasons, including preventing someone from countering his efforts.”

Then he put his finger on another spot located due east of the keep and some distance from the capital. “Merewen’s father made mention in his journal of an abbey located somewhere near this area. Yesterday I spoke to Lady Merewen about it.”

He sat back down. “All she knew was that her father had spent time at the abbey several years ago.”

Gideon thought back to their previous callings, something niggling at the back of his mind. “Did she know anything about the order that runs the convent? I seem to remember one in that area that offered shelter to travelers, but that was centuries ago.”

Duncan shook his head. “No, and her father didn’t say much on the subject. His notes indicate only that it was located east of here and that the abbess allowed him time in the collection, but only under strict supervision. I sensed that he’d felt insulted even though she told him many of the books were exceedingly rare. She also wouldn’t let him into certain areas of the library at all. He suspected they were hiding books that the previous duke had ordered destroyed.”

Gideon had been pacing restlessly. “Duncan, I see no choice but for you to visit this library yourself. Do you want Averel or Murdoch to ride with you?”

Duncan didn’t hesitate. “No, if the abbess is already cautious about those she lets in, she’s bound to be more suspicious if we show up heavily armed and wanting access to any dark magic grimoires. Much better if I arrive looking a bit shabby and offering to earn my keep if I can study there.”

Gideon didn’t like his men riding off by themselves, but he saw no way around it. “Can you be ready to leave in the morning?”

Duncan was already gathering up his papers. “Yes. I’ll need food for several days’ travel, some clothing more appropriate for a scholar, and a mount suitable for a poor wanderer such as I.”

He grinned at Gideon. “Will Lady Merewen be insulted if I request a lesser horse?”

“Probably, but ask her anyway.” Then Gideon frowned. “Speaking of the lady, I thought you were going to invite her to join us.”

Duncan looked up from the notes he was making. “I did. When I was down in the hall, I told one of the servants to remind her.”

A sick feeling settled in Gideon’s chest. “When was the last time any of you saw Merewen?”

Kane answered first. “Not since early this morning, but I’ve been with the carpenter all day.”

Murdoch was already shaking his head. “I haven’t seen her at all. I was on duty until almost sunrise, so I slept most of the morning. Averel, too.”

Gideon yanked open the door and took off running with his men right behind him. He first checked the pasture to see if Merewen was working with the horses, but he didn’t see her anywhere. She wasn’t in her workshop, nor was she in the kitchen helping the cook.

Perhaps he’d missed seeing her go upstairs to visit with her aunt. Before he reached the stairs, though, he spotted Alina talking to Murdoch as she petted Shadow.
His friend looked toward Gideon and shook his head but made no immediate move to join him in his hunt. It wasn’t the first time Gideon had seen the three of them together. It worried him, but he could hardly criticize the man for trying to find a little softness in the hard life they all lived.

Right now, though, he was more concerned about Merewen. His skin felt too tight as if it no longer fit him, the same feeling he got on the night before a battle. Back outside, he headed straight for the gate and climbed to the walkway where he could talk to the guard without shouting.

“Have you seen Lady Merewen?”

The pimply faced youth nodded but didn’t say a word.

Gideon prayed for patience. “I need details. When and where did you see her?”

The idiot swallowed hard—twice—before he found the words to answer. “She rode out about midmorning, sir.”

He gestured over the top of the palisade in a vaguely northerly direction. “I opened the gate just as she asked. She rode that way.”

It wouldn’t be fair to shove the youth off the gate for simply obeying an order from the lady of the manor, but it was tempting. “Did she mention when she would return?”

“No, sir. She said one of the mares was hurtin’. The lady didn’t say what be wrong with her.”

Gideon clenched his fists hard enough to crack his knuckles. “And you didn’t think to tell anyone?”

The youth swallowed hard. “Nobody asked, sir, not until just now. I was told to stay right here until I was relieved, so I haven’t talked to anybody.”

All Gideon could do was walk away. If he stayed any longer, the youth’s life might come to an unfortunate end. He didn’t deserve to die when his only sin was having
done exactly what he’d been told to do. Exactly. To the letter.

Later, when Gideon had tracked Merewen down and dragged her back here to the keep, he’d have a talk with Murdoch. If Merewen was going to behave in such a thick-witted way, the men needed to be trained to report to her sooner rather than later.

Her life depended on it. So did Gideon’s sanity.

He charged back through the bailey toward the corrals. Kane spotted him and correctly read his mood as he fell into step with Gideon.

“What did you find out?”

“She left the keep without telling anyone except that young idiot back there.”

“You’re going after her.”

It wasn’t really a question, but he answered anyway. “I am, and then I’m going to chain her to her bed if that’s what it takes to make sure she’s safe.”

The glint of amusement in Kane’s eyes failed to improve Gideon’s mood.

At least his friend helped him saddle Kestrel. “Do you want help looking for her?”

It was tempting, but one of them should stand ready to defend the keep if Fagan did show up. “I’ll find her. At least the guard was able to give me her general direction.”

He patted the stallion on the neck before he swung up into the saddle. “Besides, I suspect Kestrel could find her on a moonless night without any help from me.”

“I’ll open the gate.” Kane started to walk away but turned back. “It would be wise to return before nightfall, Captain. Something is stirring out there, and I’m not the only one who has felt it. Young Averel can’t stop pacing the perimeter of the keep, and everyone is tripping over those misfit dogs of his because they won’t leave his side.”

Gideon’s mood, already grim, took a turn for the worse. “I’ll return as soon as I can, and may the gods guide my footsteps. I have a bad feeling that Fagan is bringing the fight to us.”

When the gate swung open, Kestrel charged forward without having to be urged, breaking into a full gallop as soon as they cleared the gate. The stallion headed in the direction the young guard had indicated but then veered off farther east.

For the moment, Gideon had no choice but to let the horse guide their way. He’d witnessed the uncanny communication between Merewen and her charges, learning to trust in it. Since the night of the fire, he was grateful to the gods who’d given her the gift, but especially right now. Without it, he would be down on the ground, trailing her on foot in the thick grass. He could do it, especially with Kane’s help. But it would take hours, time they might not have.

As if sensing Gideon’s thoughts, the big stallion stretched into a full run, tearing across the country in a straight line with little regard for his own safety or his rider’s. Gideon held on tight and prayed they would reach her in time.

“T
here you go, little one.”

It was past time to start back to the keep, but Merewen couldn’t leave until she knew for certain that the foal was out of danger. Right now the mare was guiding him to his first meal. Merewen smiled when he started nursing greedily. Her work was done.

That is if she could get up off the ground. She’d charged out of the keep as soon as she’d felt the mare’s distress, and it had been a near thing. Any later, she might have lost both mother and foal. As it was, the battle to save them had been hard fought, leaving her aching but relieved.

Before pushing herself up from her knees, she bowed her head and offered her thanks to the gods. They’d blessed her with a gift, one she wielded only with their help.

She washed up in the small spring hidden at the heart of a stand of tangled bushes and then returned her supplies to her specially designed bags. As she tied them behind her saddle, she noticed the entire band of mares was standing at attention as they stared off to the south.

Obviously they weren’t sensing any kind of threat, but for the first time she realized how low the sun was in the sky. She hoped young Tom had thought to let someone know where she was, especially Gideon.

She tied the last knot and double-checked to make sure the foal was still feeding as she mounted up. From
the vantage point of her horse’s back, she spotted Kestrel heading straight for her. He wasn’t alone.

What was Gideon doing out here? Surely he wouldn’t be riding at such a breakneck speed over such rough ground for no reason.

She knew the instant he saw her. If anything, Kestrel sped up. They were almost within shouting distance. She knew that was true, because Gideon was definitely bellowing something at her. Although he was still too far away for her to understand his words, his dark mood was all too clear. What had happened now?

A few seconds later, he reached the small rise where she sat waiting. Before Kestrel had even come to a complete stop, Gideon was on the ground and running straight for her. He reached up to drag her down out of the saddle, his handsome face contorted in raw fury. His big hands held her prisoner, his breath a hot wind on her skin.

“What were you thinking? Riding off alone with no escort?”

Is that what this was about?

She nodded in the direction of the foal and his mother. “That sorrel mare was in distress. If I hadn’t come when I did, she would have died. Her foal was breech.”

He didn’t even glance at the mother and her foal. “I don’t give a damn about them, Merewen. It was you the gods sent me to protect! I can’t do my job, not if you fight me every inch of the way. You will not do such a stupid thing again—do you hear me?”

This was getting out of hand.

“I will tell you the same thing I told my uncle and his captain, Gideon. When the horses call, I answer. Nothing—and no one—is going to change that.”