My Lady Mage: A Warriors of the Mist Novel (9 page)

Then he offered her his arm and waited to see what her decision would be.

M
erewen studied the man in front of her, his handsome face set in such harsh lines. Common sense said she should be wary of him even if the gods had sent him and his friends to aid her. There was such violence in all of these men, and Gideon was clearly more at home with a weapon in his grip than with a lady’s hand on his arm. Yet the same instincts that told her that Rogue would never hurt her said Gideon would lay down his own life before he’d see her harmed.

Odd that in the face of such potential violence she felt so safe.

As soon as she rested her fingers on the sleeve of his tunic, feeling the warm flex of muscles between the soft fabric, it was if the air around them breathed a sigh of relief. Certainly all six horses relaxed their stances and dropped their noses down into the soft grass to graze.

The other four warriors spread out over the clearing, each taking a direction to watch and standing guard as their leader escorted Merewen down to the river’s edge. Neither of them spoke as they strolled along the shore.

If her predicament had not been so grim, she would have taken some pleasure in the experience. Not since her father’s death had a man come courting. Even before that, she’d had little time for such things while she’d struggled to perform her father’s duties when he no longer had the strength to carry them out.

At the time, her uncle’s arrival had seemed fortuitous.
Although he lacked the ability to commune with the horses, he’d certainly been trained to oversee the more mundane duties of managing the clan’s land and wealth.

Unfortunately, his real gift was for spending the family’s fortune on his own selfish needs. In truth, she often feared he wouldn’t even provide the basic provisions for the keep if he didn’t need her people to farm the land, prepare his meals, and wash his clothes.

I truly hate Uncle Fagan and the suffering he has caused.

“I’m not surprised. He has certainly earned your enmity.”

“What?”

Gideon’s deep voice startled her. Had he actually read her thoughts?

He gave her an amused look. “You were saying that you hate your uncle. I said that, all things considered, I’m not surprised. The man is clearly a villain.”

Her skin flushed hot. She would need to watch herself when she was with this man. Since her uncle’s appearance in her life, she’d had to learn to school her tongue, parceling out words carefully so as not to draw his wrath. How odd that she didn’t feel the need to be so cautious around this fierce warrior.

“Yes, he is that, and his men as well.”

She stopped to stare at the water, enjoying the soothing sound it made as it flowed over and around the rocks.

“I’m almost glad my father didn’t live to see the man his brother has become. When they were younger, they were quite close. Then Fagan left to live in the city for years, visiting only rarely. He returned to stay when I sent news of my father’s illness, a decision I regret. He is no longer the man I remembered from my childhood.”

She didn’t want to make excuses for Fagan, but she had some sympathy for him. After all, she was in a similar position herself solely because of her gender. “I’m
sure it was painful for my uncle to see all of the family’s holdings pass to a younger brother simply because the gods chose not to bless him with the same gifts my father received.”

Gideon stared out at the surrounding land, his expression difficult to decipher. Finally, he spoke. “A man chooses his own path in this life, Lady Merewen, for good or for ill. At the end of his days, he will stand judgment for those decisions.”

What choices had Gideon made that etched such stark pain in his expression? Now wasn’t the time to ask, not when he seemed lost in the shadows of his past. She gently took his hand in hers and tried to tug him along the path.

“Shall we walk a little farther? I know you must have questions to ask of me, Captain. I would answer what I can and then show you the cottage I spoke to you about. Soon I must return to the keep.”

He glanced down at her small hand touching his and let himself be led. She was conscious of the fact that they were now beyond the sight of his men. Perhaps it would be wiser to turn back, but she knew he would distance himself from her were they to do that. At this moment, she wanted to savor the few minutes of being alone with this man.

His pale eyes stood out in sharp contrast to his dark hair and sun-browned skin. When first she’d met him, his eyes had appeared as cold as death. Now they reflected the warmth of the summer sky. “Kane was right, you know. It would be a simple matter to eliminate your uncle and even his men.”

Merewen wanted to deny it, to make it clear that she didn’t want their deaths on her conscience. But in truth, she would bear that burden willingly if it meant that both her people and the herds would no longer suffer from her uncle’s callous neglect and abuse.

“Yet you seem hesitant to do that, Captain, at least for now.”

She was careful with the words she used, making sure to question his motives but not his courage. As they walked, she had once again placed her hand on the crook of his right arm. After a few seconds, he had covered her hand with his left one. The warmth of that connection spread throughout her body, the sensation heightening her awareness of him as a man.

Seemingly unaware of the reaction his touch had upon her, Gideon responded to her comment. “This is not the time for me to tell you of our history, my lady. Suffice it to say that the gods do not wield their weapons recklessly. They would not use a hammer to kill a fly.”

She considered the meaning of his words. “So you fear there is more wrong than just my uncle’s greed.”

Gideon nodded. “I do, although my first duty is to protect you, my lady. If it becomes necessary to kill your uncle in order to keep you safe, know that I will not hesitate. However, I believe it is best not to act in haste, not until we know more. I do promise you that before our time is at an end, your uncle will die.”

She stared up into Gideon’s eyes, once again the color of ice, and shivered. He noted her reaction and immediately retreated, putting more distance between them. Merewen started to follow him, but he held up his hand to stop her.

“I apologize again, Lady Merewen. I’m a warrior and more used to the rough company of men, and so I speak too bluntly. I fear I lack Duncan’s courtly manners.”

Although his expression hadn’t changed, her reaction had inadvertently hurt him in some small measure. Rather than let that stand, she resolutely stepped forward and placed the palm of her hand against his, hoping her touch would show him the truth of her words.

“No apologies are necessary, Captain…Gideon. I
may fear what I have put into motion and for my people, but I do not regret the decision to do so. And I do not fear you or your men.”

For the second time that day, the air around them thickened, and time slowed as they both stared at the joining of their hands. She eased nearer, or perhaps it was Gideon who closed the gap. This time, when she lifted her eyes, his eyes no longer held the chill of the river. The heat reflected there drew her even closer.

His fingers gently twined with hers as his other hand lifted to cradle the side of her face so very gently, the pad of his thumb brushing across her lips. She smiled and closed her eyes, savoring his touch and wanting more. When a shadow passed over her face, her eyes flew open just as Gideon’s mouth followed the path his thumb had only seconds before.

The sensation stunned her, the touch of that stern mouth so soft and the moment so fleeting. She held still, fearful if she were to move too quickly, he would once again withdraw. But no, he settled in to kiss her, tempt her, taste her. It was as if the warmth of the sun had entered her veins and settled deep within her body.

Gideon pulled back slightly, enough that she could see him smile. “And I thought the magic of the gods was potent, my lady.”

What could she say to that? Before she could think of a reply, Gideon stiffened, staring past her, back down the river.

He immediately stepped in front of her, once again protecting her from a perceived threat. What had he heard?

When his man Murdoch stepped into sight, some of the captain’s tension eased, but not all.

“What is wrong?”

“We’re not sure. The horses were all growing restive, but both stallions stared at the woods as if sensing a threat.”

Gideon glanced at Merewen, his eyes back to their iciest. “Any idea whether the danger is human or animal?”

“No, but Kane and Duncan are investigating. Averel stayed with the other horses while I came to fetch you.”

“Well done,” said Gideon, nodding. “My lady, we should return to the others.”

By the time they reached the horses, Merewen was out of breath from trying to keep pace with the two warriors. Although both men made an effort to adjust their strides to better suit her shorter stature, their concern about what was afoot quickly had them picking up speed.

At least her tunic worn over trousers afforded her more ease of movement than a dress would have. When they reached the clearing, the three mares stood clustered around Averel with their eyes trained on the trees. At the moment, they appeared attentive but not on the near edge of panic.

Gideon strode forward, for the moment leaving Merewen to follow in his wake. Murdoch brought up the rear.

“Any word from Kane?”

“No, he and Duncan rode out with Kestrel at their side.” Averel smiled. “For the moment, the two stallions have united against a common foe.”

Gideon didn’t look amused, but then with his horse out scouting, that left him afoot. “We should be prepared to ride in haste when they return. The rest of you mount up.”

Merewen led her horse over to stand near Gideon. She waited until he looked in her direction before speaking. “My mare can bear both of us, should it become necessary.”

He acknowledged her offer with a jerk of his head but kept his gaze focused on the woods. She appreciated his
fierce determination to defend her safety. At the same time, she missed the brief moment where the world had disappeared and they’d simply been two people enjoying a walk—and a kiss.

Rather than dwell on it, she swung up into the saddle, her mare sidestepping and snorting.

“Steady, steady.”

She continued to talk to the restive animal, all the while infusing her words with the calming warmth that she used with all of her four-legged charges and even some of the two-legged ones when the situation called for it. The mare slowly relaxed and stood still. When Merewen looked around, all three warriors were staring at her with rapt attention.

Averel and Murdoch exchanged worried glances and moved farther away from her, although Gideon remained where he was. Their reaction was puzzling. “Is something wrong?”

Finally, the captain answered her. “Your words have power, and the gods have charged us to fight against dark magic. Yours lacks the sick feel of evil; yet it still speaks strongly of a powerful magic.”

She didn’t understand their concern. Turning to face Averel and Murdoch, she said, “I swear I know nothing of dark magic.”

When neither of them responded, she looked back to their leader to enlist his support. “Captain Gideon, you’ve seen me do this before to call Kestrel and the others. The gods granted my family a simple gift, nothing more than that. In each generation, at least one person in my family is born with it. It’s in my blood just as it was in my father’s.”

But Gideon was shaking his head. “It is more than that, Lady Merewen. Many people have a knack for working with horses, but it doesn’t flavor the very air around them or call horses from long distances. There’s
no denying that the heart of your gift is magic. The only question is its source.”

She had no answer for that. “I am not working magic. Since I was a small child, I have been able to understand horses just as my father could. We also both studied herbal medicine.”

Gideon looked as if he had more to say on the subject, but the sound of approaching horses brought the conversation to an abrupt halt. All three men turned as one to face the woods again, this time with swords at the ready. Kestrel appeared first, quickly followed by Duncan. A short time later, Kane rode back into sight. He paused to rub the right side of his face, but, judging from his relaxed manner, the threat had passed.

Kestrel headed straight for Gideon, who patted the stallion while he waited for his men to dismount and report in. Right now, Merewen was glad for anything that diverted the attention away from her.

They were right, of course. Even if it wasn’t accurate to refer to her ability with horses as a gift rather than magic, it definitely was safer. Within the borders of Agathia, true magic was rare and often feared for good reason. It was another kind of power, and power was often abused. Even without the rumors about Duke Keirthan, she’d read enough history in her father’s library to know that was true. Still, she believed magic was a tool, one that could be used for good or for evil.

Which brought her right back to Captain Gideon and his men who claimed to stand against the evils of dark magic. Even though she believed that was true, why had the manuscript she’d read described them as the Damned, especially if they were doing the work of the gods? As she considered that thought, a shadow seemed to pass over the sun, dimming the day. She stared up at the sky, seeing nothing but blue and a scattering of clouds. Even so, she found herself dismounting and returning to Gideon’s
side. As soon as she stood within arm’s reach, the shadow passed, leaving her to wonder even more about the magic of the captain of the Damned.

Duncan was talking, saying something about some dead deer, but all Gideon heard was the rapid pulse of the woman standing next to him. Something had left her feeling skittish, although he could perceive no direct threat to her at the moment. Perhaps it was all the talk of magic, but she hadn’t hesitated to cast the spell to call them from the river. Granted, the spell to call them forth could be invoked by anyone who knew the correct words. It was up to the gods to decide whether the five warriors should be released from their sleep in the river.