The King's Sword Read online

  “Fiona,” Ula whispered.

  “You!” For a moment neither of them moved, then Fiona brandished an impressive sword. “This woman is a demon!”

  Ronan frowned, eyes darting up to Ula’s cool expression.

  Seven

  Ula slid off of the horse as Fiona advanced with her sword lifted. The horse skittered away as Ronan glanced between the women. This was not good.

  “You know better than what you want to accuse me of,” Ula said in a low voice. Ronan’s eyes widened as Fiona’s skin changed, colored in deadly stripes. The yellow flecks of her stare spread until her eyes glowed golden from her face. Scales were appearing on her skin, bright, shiny, and silver.

  “What is that?” Keegan murmured as he stepped beside Ronan. The blacksmith shook his head. He didn’t know. He’d never seen anything like it. A long, slender tongue flicked out from between her lips. He remembered the sting it had left on his cheek but Ronan didn’t think she meant to snap it sharply against Ula.

  “Theora was my friend, Fiona.” Ula was speaking again, her voice still calm. “But she let the dark forces win her over. There was nothing to be done.” Fiona swung the blade forcefully but Ula ducked out of the way and stepped to the side. The smoothness of the healer’s movement surprised Ronan but did not slow Fiona. The woman whirled, blade extended and sliced the air in half but Ula dodged the sharp of it again.

  “You must calm yourself. Listen with your mind, not with your heart.” Ula ducked again.

  “You killed her,” Fiona hissed. “She was of no dark force.”

  Ronan tried to catch Arien’s arm but the boy darted past him and stepped in front of Ula, facing the serpent woman. He rose as tall as he could manage, jaw set with determination.

  “Leave her alone!” The boy shouted. His eyes flicked to Ronan, seeking his approval.

  “Get out of the way, Arien,” Ula snapped but the boy stood his ground. Ronan’s eyes widened when Fiona’s hand stretched out, whipping him out of the way. Both her arms looked like the tails of snakes.

  Arien cried out as he went tumbling against a tree and Ula’s eyes suddenly glittered dangerously. “Oh no.” Ronan murmured as the wind began to bend. Before he could intervene, Fiona lunged. Ula’s arms wrapped around the woman and catapulted them both high into the air, deep into the dark clouds that looked gray against the night sky.

  “Where are they?” Ronan searched the skies.

  “There!” Keegan pointed toward the south as two tiny dots fell down into the trees. “They’ve landed in Sledgewood.”

  “Get the boy!” Ronan leapt upon Sorcha’s back and kicked her forward. The horse had speed that left Ula’s wind behind. Sorcha darted from the road, through the trees and Ronan worried that he would not make it in time before one of them killed the other.

  Lightening snapped down from the sky but to Ronan’s relief it did not hit the ground. But the wind grew fiercer as large drops of rain began to pelt from the clouds above. As long as there was wind, Ula was alive. And then suddenly the air grew still. The clouds dispersed and a dangerous current of emotion charged through Ronan’s body. Oh, no.

  “Faster.” His voice cracked and his stomach filled with dread but Sorcha pushed on, carrying them as fast as her legs could go. Into the trees which grew thicker the deeper Ronan rode. Finally, they came upon the two and Sorcha halted abruptly, starting to back away.

  They were still fighting, but Ronan realized, not against one another. Fiona’s tongue whipped out, cracked. And Ula – Ronan stopped and stared. She appeared younger, magic snapping in sparks around her. She hurled a ball of blue flames from her palm. What kind of healer could hold magic in their hand?

  For a moment it seemed as their blows struck thin air. Then he glimpsed a pale green body. It was the body of a woman, nude but before he could catch a second glimpse, the air flapped around it again.

  What were they? Sledgers. Ahearn’s thoughts found him. They wear invisible capes that are as strong as metal. Strike at the capes. Weaken their armor. Ronan looked around him. Strike them with what? Use the sword. His eyes dropped to the white metal blade of the sword he held grasped in his fist.

  “No,” Ronan whispered, shaking his head. Use the sword. Use it if you wish to save them. They will die if you do not. Ronan looked back to Ula. Her grayed hair was almost as black as Fiona’s. Her skin was pale and flawless. Her body was slender. The only thing that looked the same as it had before was her eyes.

  Something glinted and her breath hissed through the air as a red line appeared on her arm. Ronan’s insides burned and hardened. Before he had time to think, he raised the sword. With all his might brought it to the invisible enemy. Something gave way beneath the strike and tumbled to the side. He kept swinging back and forth around him, working through the unseen army until he reached the two women.

  “Stay back,” he commanded both of them and turned. Let the sword do the work. Ahearn’s thoughts vibrated from somewhere beyond the trees. Ronan nodded and grasped the sword with both hands. He held it out. Instantly a white light engulfed him causing him to gasp for breath. He could feel himself moving but could see nothing. The light was blinding and hot, and it filled him. Pain tore at his arm but still he was moving. He fought until his entire body was weakened, and then he felt himself falling.

  * * *

  Fiona pressed a cloth to the blacksmith’s fevered forehead. She had never seen even a warrior fight as bravely and ruthlessly as Ronan Culley had. And he’d fought by the rules of the sword and did not even prick the skin of any of the Sledgers. Instead, he used the strong metal of the King’s Sword to weaken the armor of their invisible cloaks. He succeeded in banging most of them senseless and the rest fled with fear.

  His eyes had shone with the white light around him. She’d only seen one other person look that way before, many years ago, when she was just a child. It had frightened her then and it frightened her now.

  Reaching forward, she ran a hand along Ronan’s hard cheek. He was so strong when he fought the Sledgers. But she had seen another side of the man. Yes, he’d been guarded but he’d laughed. He was not like the other who had allowed the sword to guide him. Fiona prayed he was not.

  She glanced at Ula when the woman brought a small bowl of broth. Ula lifted Ronan’s head and she poured the broth into his mouth. Fiona hated the woman but she could not deny the genuine concern that reflected in those black eyes. Ula Baen cared for this blacksmith.

  She watched in silence as the woman cleaned and changed the linens on his wound. It was a deep cut into his shoulder. When he’d received it, he hadn’t even flinched. He’d been too consumed with battling the Sledgers to even take notice. The blow had been meant for Ula. He’d stepped right into it. It wasn’t until he had them safely from Sledgewood that he’d finally collapsed.

  “He will live,” Fiona said firmly and Ula nodded without looking at her. “When he wakes he must be told the truth. He must be warned.”

  Ula’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “He is a good man who desires a simple life. He does not deserve such complications.”

  “He shall find out sooner or later. If we wait…” Fiona looked down at Ronan. “He will do anything to protect those he cares for.”

  “Yes.”

  “He must be warned.” Fiona insisted.

  “Yes,” Ula relented and Fiona breathed out with relief, but when those black eyes finally lifted to meet her gaze, she stiffened.

  “She was overtaken by Sleagan’s power. You know this, Fiona. Theora was my friend. I loved her. But you know it had to be done.”

  Fiona scowled. “She was good and kind.”

  “You know what would have happened if I had not intervened,” Ula insisted.

  Fiona turned her head. She didn’t want to think of any of it.

  “The sword weakens some. Others it makes them stronger.” Ula’s wrinkled hand touched Ronan’s cheek. “It is our fault he is ill. Let us join to heal him now. We shall settle our difference
s later.”

  Fiona glanced down at the blacksmith. “Our differences are settled,” she said quietly. “He fought for us both. If he cares for you so much he’d risk his life, then I shall not hurt him by attempting to take yours again.” Ula said nothing so Fiona glanced across the camp where Keegan sat with the boy. She winced. She hadn’t meant to hurt Ronan’s young apprentice.

  “He is tough. He shall be a bit sore in the morning. Nothing more,” Ula told her as if she could read her guilt.

  “He was trying to protect you as well.” Fiona’s eyes dropped to Ula. “See to the boy. I shall stay with the guard,” Fiona said.

  Ula hesitated for a moment, then rose and moved away.

  Fiona’s gaze returned to Ronan. Sweat dotted his temples and forehead and his lips moved as if speaking. She leaned closer but still couldn’t make out the words. Dipping the cloth into the bowl of water, she laid it across his forehead as Keegan’s heavy body settled down beside hers.

  “So what was it that set the Sledgers off exactly. I’ve traveled this way many times and I’ve never had so much as a tremor of trouble from them.” Keegan folded his arms as Fiona looked at him.

  “When we landed, we broke a sapling. Well, several of them.” She looked down at her hands.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “No.” Fiona shook her head. “It’s over now.”

  “Ula told me he used the sword.” Keegan lowered his voice. “It’s happened before…at the River Blanch. Stilled the power in the waters with it.”

  Fiona’s head snapped up. “How?”

  Keegan looked down at Ronan, “He stuck the blade into the river.” He shrugged his big shoulders. “And there is something else.”

  “What?”

  “My horses, Ahearn in particular, are communicating with him. I saw it with my own eyes.” Keegan shook his head. “I’ve been breeding Dulcet horses for ten years. I’ve never seen anything like it before.” Fiona watched him shrug again.

  “Why haven’t you told him?” Fiona took the cloth from Ronan’s head and dipped it into the cool water.

  “I’m a horseman, a rancher. I know horses and money. I suppose this is more your area of expertise than mine,” Keegan answered as she placed the cloth on Ronan’s head again.

  “Do you trust Ula Baen?” Fiona asked abruptly and Keegan frowned.

  “I trust Ronan Culley and I don’t trust many more than him.”

  Fiona raised her brow. “And why do you trust him?”

  “Because when he was feeling desperate and hopeless, he said so. Because when he sets his mind to something, no matter how uncomfortable he is with it, he sticks with it. Those are not the actions of a man who is out for himself. Because he has said he would risk his life for any of us. That includes me. And I believe him.” Keegan rose to his feet and without another word, walked away.

  “Quite a group you travel with, Ronan Culley,” Fiona whispered, and then frowned as the blacksmith moaned in his sleep. His fingers reached for something that wasn’t there. He moaned again. Fiona frowned. He was reaching for the sword. It had begun.

  * * *

  Thestian walked through the corridors of Merisgale Castle. His steps were quick and echoed his urgency to find the captain of his guards. Diato was not in his own room and Thestian didn’t need to guess at which one of the maids he’d seduced that night. The image of her face found his thoughts the moment he’d murmured the question into the air.

  He’d noticed Diato had a weakness for women. He recalled the words Fiona had spoken the day she and Diato fought. Her hurt had been evident and her anger could have drained the captain of his blood. But she’d stopped herself from killing him. That kind of control was admirable.

  Thestian halted outside the woman’s door. No sounds came from the other side so he lifted his knuckles and rapped loudly. Then again. He was answered by mumbling and rustling of sheets. It was Diato who opened the door and Thestian frowned.

  “The blacksmith has been sucked in by the power of the sword.” Thestian scowled when Diato, in his half wake, did not think to cover his nakedness. Behind him the maid sat up in the bed, rubbing her eyes.

  “Fiona will not fail us.” Diato ran a hand over his face and shook as if he was trying to wake himself up. He seemed to realize he was standing there naked and turned to retrieve his robe.

  “What if she finds she fancies him?” Thestian asked.

  Diato turned to look back at him. “Was that in your dreams?”

  Thestian could hear the instant jealousy in Diato’s voice. He wondered what the man would do if that jealousy was pushed. Would he ride out to take over the mission or would he kill the blacksmith and be done with it?

  “No, but I believe he fancies her,” Thestian replied carefully.

  Diato’s worry fled from his eyes as he pulled his robe on. “Many men have fancied her. And even if she did decide she liked him, it would not sway her from her mission. Serpentine warriors always follow through with what they are assigned or they die trying.”

  “She is still a woman.” Thestian crossed his arms.

  “That part of her is mine,” Diato said in a possessive but matter of fact tone. “It always has been. In the six months she was away from Merisgale, she took no lovers, had no relationship.”

  “How can you be certain?” Thestian noticed Diato did not offer the maid even a smile as he grabbed up his clothes and stepped from her room, pulling the door closed behind him. He wasn’t sure what to make of the way Diato spoke of Fiona, as if she was a possession rather than a person. Men spoke of slaves in such a manner.

  “Because I had someone watch her,” Diato said simply, shaking his head. “You do not have to worry about Fiona. When she fought me, her pain was still new. Her feelings still rested with me.” The wizard nodded.

  “Very well.” Thestian set the pace down the corridor and Diato quickly followed. “I worry of this blacksmith. He is a decent man and does not want anything to do with the sword. But I can feel that he has bonded with the weapon.”

  “You think he means to keep it?” Diato asked.

  “Not yet. But I don’t know about the future. Find out what you can about his past. A man’s history usually tells of the man’s nature. If he is easily led then we may all be in danger. Until then, I shall have to rely on my instincts.” Thestian ran a hand through his hair. He’d hoped the captain would make him feel reassured. His obsession with the serpentine only made him all the more uneasy. Would Ronan Culley react as strongly toward her? Would that work in his favor or against him?

  “And your dreams,” Diato added.

  Thestian glanced over his shoulder with irritation. “Of course.”

  * * *

  “You haven’t slapped me and you are still here.” Ronan’s weak voice drifted up causing Fiona to jerk awake. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, sitting there beside him. But the night had dragged on and all the others had long lay down to rest.

  “You must have it in your head to kiss me again.”

  Fiona smiled but her smile faded when she saw that his condition had worsened. He was sweaty and his face was hot to the touch. She reached for the wet cloth and began wiping down his face.

  “How long have I been asleep?” Ronan tried to rise up but then grunted and fell back onto the blankets.

  “Several hours,” Fiona answered.

  “Hours!” Ronan forced himself to sit; wincing with what Fiona knew was great pain.

  “You aren’t well.” She told him, pushing at his chest and urging him to lie back down. “Even if you managed to stand you have a fever and probably couldn’t walk.”

  “I could ride,” Ronan argued. “The centaur has probably already caught up with us. We can’t linger here. It’s too dangerous.”

  “Then he shall have to deal with Keegan,” Fiona gave his chest a shove and reluctantly he lay down again. “Here, your witch told me to make you drink more of this if you woke up.” She reached for the bowl of broth and put i
t to his lips. He took a couple of swallows then turned his head, making a face. Fiona forced herself not to laugh.

  “It’s disgusting.” He lifted his uninjured arm and wiped at his mouth. “Did you see what she put in it?” Fiona shook her head and urged him to drink more but he pushed the bowl away from his face. “I’ll not drink anymore until I find out,” He stated in a matter of fact tone that brought a little smile to Fiona’s lips. “I don’t remember much of what happened. Are you hurt?”

  “No.” Fiona shook her head.

  “Good. And Ula?” he pressed.

  “She is fine. Arien is sleeping but he is only bruised a bit. I am sorry that I struck at him.” Fiona bit her lip but Ronan did not seem angry with her.

  “He’s stronger than he looks.” Ronan groaned lowly, reaching to touch his shoulder. “And I am weaker I suppose.”

  “Not true. You are stronger than most,” Fiona argued. “You were cut nearly to the bone. The Sledgers have claws of metal. A bit closer and she would have ripped your arm off.”

  “At this rate I’ll be just a piece of a man by the time we deliver the sword in Merisgale,” he growled.

  “There is something you should know,” Fiona began but was surprised when Ronan cracked a grin up at her.

  “You have a monstrosity of a husband who means to bash in my head?” Ronan continued to grin as Fiona laughed. He was jesting with her again about when they met.

  “No. I have no husband.”

  Ronan closed his eyes. “Good. I can stop worrying about it now. But there must be someone.”

  Fiona sighed causing his lids to flick open again. “There was but it is over now between us. It has been for some time.”

  “His loss,” Ronan murmured. “You don’t want to be with an idiot anyway.”

  “How would you know if he was an idiot?”

  Ronan chuckled. “Only an idiot would let you slip away from him.”