Well of the Damned

Chapter 34





Gavin packed up his bedroll. “Brawna, wake up.”

“Huh?” Brawna asked, blinking sleepily. She propped herself up on one elbow. “What’s happening?”

“Vandra and Calinor are almost to Cirang. She’s in a house, sleeping, and they’re about to go inside.”

She got up and began packing up her belongings. “They’ll be wary. Vandra’s a good battler.”

“How far away are they?” Daia kicked dirt over the pale glowing embers of their cook fire and splashed some water onto the wood.

“Three or four hours, I’d guess,” Gavin said. He started putting saddles on the horses.

“We’re too far away to be of any help,” Daia said. “If Cirang manages to defeat them both, she’ll be gone before we get there, and Vandra and Calinor will be dead.”

“Well I can’t just go back to sleep and hope for the best,” Gavin said as he mounted his horse. He created a ball of light and pushed it over Golam’s head and onto the rocky ground in front of the horse’s feet.

“Of course not,” Daia replied. “I just don’t think we can do any good from so far away.”

“Then stay here,” Gavin said. He tapped his heels against Golam’s sides and started off at a trot. He rode close to the tree line where the ground was flatter and there were fewer stones for his horse to stumble over.

“Gavin, wait! Damn it.”

He knew they wouldn’t let him go on without them, but leaving got them moving faster than talking did. When he heard the sounds of horses’ hooves beating the ground behind him, he stopped and waited so as to give them all the benefit of the path light.

“You’re the most hardheaded man I’ve ever known,” Daia said as she rode up beside him.

Gavin grinned at her. “It’s part o’my charm. Let’s go.”

They talked as they rode, speculating that Vandra would be on her guard after Cirang’s last attack. Although Calinor was aging, he was a skilled and experienced battler. Gavin wouldn’t say so out loud, but he didn’t think a woman armed with only a dagger could best him. She would have to take him by surprise. Be vigilant, he thought.

Though he was tempted to stop and use Daia’s gift to see what was happening at the house, he didn’t want to waste more time. If someone was injured, they would need him, and every second could make the difference between surviving and dying. Stopping to satisfy his curiosity wasn’t worth the risk. He wouldn’t have that weighing on his shoulders for the rest of his life.

When he saw a house in the distance, he urged Golam to a gallop. A sense of urgency made his heart pound, though he didn’t know why. He leaped from his mount’s back and drew his sword.

“Could you bring the light?” she said. “I can’t see.”

Gavin’s magic-enhanced vision was fine, but he needed her ready too. He pulled the path light from where he’d left it and pushed it ahead of him.

“Be ready,” Daia whispered, stepping in front of him.

“She ain’t here,” Gavin said with certainty. Aldras Gar was quiet, and the gems in his sword remained dull, unlighted by the warrior’s wisdom magic imbued in the sword. “Brawna, tie up the horses.” He pushed the door open and went inside. The smell of blood filled the house.

The floor near the dining table and chairs was drenched in blood. Bloody footprints were concentrated at the edge of a small rug and extended towards a room where two bodies lay in a pool of blood. Gavin rushed to them, unmindful of Daia’s cries of warning.

Calinor was half-sitting, half-lying against a wall with his head bowed. The sound of ragged breathing accompanied a slow, shallow rise of his chest. Daia knelt next to Vandra and checked for a pulse while Gavin fell to his knees beside Calinor and set Aldras Gar down. He put his hands on his friend’s shoulders, shut his eyes and began to feel the warmth build in his belly. It flowed through his arms, out his hands and into his injured friend. The warmth became intense heat like a small sun was burning within him. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes tightly, resisting the urge to yank his hands away. It wouldn’t last long. Just a bit longer. He pushed through the pain to a place of inner calm and sensed the familiar white fluttering in his mind. That part of the healing process was as pleasurable as the previous part had been painful. If he could find a way to get to this place without the pain or without someone being injured, he might like to stay a while. This time, something was different. He sensed another energy added to his own, combining to heal even faster. Then he realized Calinor had magic healing power himself.

His hands cooled more quickly than usual and the calm white fluttering dissipated. He opened his eyes to find Calinor watching him with a surprising expression of guilt on his face.

“All these years...” Gavin said, shaking his head in disbelief. He offered a hand to help Calinor sit upright. “You never let on.”

Calinor’s blush was deep enough that, even in the dim glow of the magic light ball, it was plain to see. “A man’s got to keep his own secrets,” he whispered, “but you have my thanks.”

“Your secret’s safe.” Gavin patted his shoulder. “Glad you’re still with us.”

Footsteps approached from behind. “King Gavin?” Brawna said. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” he said, turning to look at her. “Vandra didn’t make it.” He looked at Vandra lying face down in the congealed and drying blood. She was as lifeless as the wood beneath her. He could do nothing for her except find Cirang and dispense justice. “If only I could’ve saved her.”

“Oh.” Brawna hung her head.

“It was Vandra’s time to die,” Daia said as she exited a nearby room.

Gavin shook his head. In spite of all he’d been through in recent months, he still didn’t believe in destiny. Would a god, whether it be Asti-nayas or Yrys or some other, truly use the hand of a murderer to carry out his plan? “Vandra was attacked by the same person twice. There’s no destiny in that, only murder.”

“There’s a lot of blood in there,” Daia said, pointing at the room she’d just come from. “A pail of bloody water, towels soaked in it, some thread and a needle on the floor. I’m willing to bet Vandra got a good cut in. Looks as though she tried to stitch herself up.”

“If she’s injured, she’ll be slower,” Gavin said. “Easier to catch.”

“She cut her hair and stole Vandra’s armor,” Daia noted.

“Seems she stole my voice too,” Calinor whispered. He touched his throat, now wrinkled and scarred. “She took us by surprise. Didn’t even hear her breathe.”

“No doubt,” Gavin said. “She’s crafty.”

“But with the armor,” Daia argued, “she could pass herself off as one of the First Royal Guards.”

Gavin nodded solemnly as he rose to his feet. “She’s probably heading to Ambryce.” He was confident Feanna wasn’t gullible enough to fall for Cirang’s tricks again. She’d been betrayed once before by the battler, taken to Ravenkind to be offered as a meal to the demon Ritol, along with her three adopted daughters. “Feanna knows Cirang and won’t be tricked by her lies this time. Her guards are skilled and sharp-minded. They won’t let her get close.”

The elder battler stood unsteadily. “Better get goin’.”

Gavin put an arm around him to hold him steady. “Whoa. Easy. You lost a lot o’blood. It’ll be a few days afore you feel like your old self.”

“We’ll get you some food and rest in Ambryce,” Daia said. “You’ll be good as new.”

Calinor nodded. “Food. Yeh, I could use a bite.”

“I wonder what that’s about.” Daia followed the bloody footprints clumped near the edge of a small rug, which she pulled aside to reveal a cellar hatch. She opened it and peered into the darkness. Gavin pushed his light ball down into the cellar for her. “Two bodies,” she said. “Probably the owners of this house. Two more murders Cirang must pay for.”

“Yeh, and afore she kills anyone else,” Gavin agreed.

“We should bury them,” Calinor whispered.

Gavin shook his head. “There ain’t time. We’ll send someone from Ambryce to take care o’the dead. I saw the hazes o’two horses in the barn earlier. Think you can ride?”

“Try to stop me,” Calinor replied.