Knight devoted, p.4
Knight Devoted, page 4
“Of course, my lord.” He served Nefrana, but he wasn’t an idiot.
Alekur’s voice was hushed, the anger sharply reined in. “Someday, that throne will be mine. I want no other competing claims. You claim you can’t be bought, but I know you know what it’s like to have nothing. You can know that again.”
Jav stared back at the prince’s black eyes and wished he could see evil or madness there. But he didn’t. He saw dark reason. And purpose. Their gazes were locked, and he couldn’t look away.
“You can know that again,” he repeated. “Or you can do as I ask, and when the Knight Captain’s retirement is at hand, your loyal service will be remembered. Do you understand?”
He squeezed his eyes shut, then forced them open again. “Understood. Of course, my lord.”
Alekur’s shoulders eased slightly, and his voice softened. “She is a mage. You are a knight devoted to Nefrana. It’s the law of the land. The law of your goddess. The sentence for all mages is death. You know this.”
“I do.”
“I don’t need to question your devotion, do I, knight?” He said it gently, almost kindly. His words more coercion than threat, but mostly a reminder—Jav had no recourse. If it was true that Iseris was a mage— But how could that be? But if she was, then everyone would be on Alekur’s side. Iseris was already dead.
“Not at all, sire. Not even the oceans run deeper than my devotion.” That was not a lie. But he was glad the prince hadn’t specified devotion to whom.
The prince relaxed a little further now. “You might hate this assignment, and I’m certain you hate me for it. But let me ask you this. Would you prefer I had left it to someone else?”
Jav’s eyes tightened at the corners as his stomach twisted in fresh knots. Laid her out nicely… What liberties might some other knights take if they knew she wouldn’t live to tell the tale? Surely, his colleagues had more honor than that.
But who a man was when no one was looking was often different from what he presented to other people in the daylight.
Alekur’s eyes twinkled, clearly aware of the line of Jav’s thoughts. “The girl is to die, by your hand or another’s. Last chance to walk away. Should I reassign this to another knight?”
“No,” he replied, quickly. “No, sire.”
“Then accept this. And by the goddess, don’t let your honor impinge on your practicality. You might as well show her your love before it’s too late. Or at least get to plow her field for your labors.”
His jaw hardened. “She’s not a field to plow, sire.”
“You’re the one killing her, and you’re offended by that comment?” The prince chuckled. “I know who the gods will be offended by.”
“I’m following your orders. It’s the law of the goddess. And the land. That’s not murder. That’s… That’s justice. Obviously.” The words were hardly convincing, and he stumbled over them. Neither of them, in fact, seemed very convinced by this.
“Oh, of course it isn’t murder.” Alekur plopped down in an armchair, grinning, then flicked his fingers at the door. “Whatever gets the job done. Now go on. Do as you’re told, little puppet.”
Javarin glared. But he said nothing. Grinding his teeth, he spun on his heel and marched out.
“Enjoy the package!” Alekur called.
Without even a backward glance, Javarin hardened his face—and his heart—and hurried away from the prince. His pulse was racing as fast as his thoughts, but not from the exertion.
How would he ever do this? He had to. But it was impossible. Unthinkable.
His dream—the woman on horseback, the snow, and Iseris—flashed through his mind.
He needed time. Time to prepare, to think. To find a way out of this trap, if such a thing existed.
To find some way in his heart to kill the woman he’d loved for as long as he could remember.
Chapter 6
The Messenger’s Horse
“You there.” Jav was surprised to discover his voice slurred as he jabbed a finger at the young stable hand. “My horse. Sky.”
The boy’s eyes widened, then he set off at a jog into the stalls. Yes, well… Jav wasn’t known as a midday drunk. He wasn’t ever drunk, nor was he entirely sure if that was the state he was in. He also wasn’t usually this… direct. Rude?
“Please,” he muttered, too late.
But he was in a hurry. And on the queen’s business. And perhaps not thinking terribly straight… What in Nefrana’s name had been in that mead? His blood felt hot and fuzzy, pumping madly through his veins.
The boy was nonplussed at his oddness, however, and returned promptly. Sky stamped excitedly to be heading out for a ride, tossing his black mane just a little. Sky was a gorgeous horse, if a little ironically named, as he was solid black.
He doubted Sky would really approve of the purpose of this ride if he knew. The gelding seemed a tender-hearted beast, not so different from Jav. But luckily for Sky, he didn’t have to deal with the awful world the same way that Jav did. He buried his face against Sky’s neck for a moment.
It was probably a bad sign that he was envying his horse.
He smiled slightly, running a hand down Sky’s mane, but he couldn’t spend much time on a proper greeting. This slight diversion was, strictly speaking, entirely unnecessary. But it was something he had to do.
He had to go to the temple. He had to understand.
And failing that, he had to find a way to prove what he suspected: that Iseris was innocent, and the murder entirely political. He had heard of an artifact they kept there that might be able to prove Iseris was no mage.
Because she couldn’t be. How could he have missed it? Filthy lies.
He took the reins and led Sky toward the wide stable doors. The boy vanished back into the stalls.
He paused at a whining sound. He spotted several of the crown prince’s hunting dogs in stalls, cocking their heads to one side, whimpering. One licked its lips. They looked… hungry.
Jav sniffed and took a step closer. Glancing around, there was no one nearby. The stable master was out in the field with a horse, talking to a farrier. The place was quiet, save Sky stamping his impatience to ride and the snuffling and panting of these dogs.
With one finger, he quickly unlatched the first dog’s stall. Then the next. And the next. He didn’t open them. Just nudged the latches. If they nuzzled them the tiniest bit, though, they’d swing open.
He got through three of the six stalls before the stable master said, “Just one minute,” and turned in Jav’s direction.
Jav hurried back to Sky, pretending to ensure the saddle was buckled properly, and then once the stable master was past him, he hastened out through the stable doors, walking at Sky’s side, reins in hand.
Maybe he was drunk. Or poisoned. Was this what drunk felt like? What in Nefrana’s name was he thinking, flirting with freeing half the prince’s hounds? The man might be as evil as a mage’s heart—although now, he cringed at that old expression—but the prince was more powerful than Jav would ever be. And he would not be pleased by Jav’s disobedience—or, likely, this dallying side trip.
He needed to get to the temple quickly.
“You there, boy. See to this horse.” The self-important mage-slave messenger from the Northern Kingdoms dismounted before the horse had even fully stopped. He wore a slight smirk as he tossed the reins in Jav’s face.
Jav opened his mouth to correct the man—his light hair made Jav look considerably younger than his fellows at times, but in chain mail, he was clearly not a stable boy—but the messenger had already set off at a run into the stable. The man was out of sight.
Javarin rolled his eyes. Could the man have considered him the stable manager at least? He glanced at the new horse and went still.
She was a beauty, a strong white mare with a lovely snowy mane. She huffed a greeting. Her wise eyes bored into his own, unafraid.
White. Like Nefrana’s horse in the tapestries in so many temples.
Or the horse in his dream.
As he stared, another thought came to him—a strange one. If they were determined to kill her, they weren’t likely to listen to any proof of her innocence. Alekur had been clear that that was barely half his motivation. The prince knew she was older than he was, and that if she were married to the right suitor, she or her children could be a danger to his reign. Facing the right competition, anyone’s throne could be jeopardized. They’d probably just kill Jav, too, even if he had his proof.
But Nefrana always protected children and innocents. What if they were wrong? What if Iseris truly wasn’t a mage? Perhaps this beautiful horse of Nefrana’s was a sign. He needed a better plan.
He blinked. The horse blinked slowly back and huffed.
Mounting Sky, he kept both sets of reins and led the white one by his side at a brisk walk toward the temple.
Let the messenger find out his mistake the hard way.
Chapter 7
Temple
Rows of white candles burned in the shrine, casting a golden shimmer across the white stone walls. Many were lit for fertility in the fields. Spring was still far away, and this was the dead of winter, but the farmers seemed to believe that starting early couldn’t hurt. An alabaster statue of Nefrana rose from delicately carved grasses, preserved forever mid-sway.
This shrine was but a small part of the grand temple to Nefrana, but this spot had always been his favorite. Behind him, out of sight at the moment, was a gorgeous tapestry of the goddess astride a white steed. Everything in the room was bathed in flickering candlelight, but it was otherwise dim, even though it was still midday.
Javarin had been kneeling in the Shrine of the Fields for a quarter of an hour before he saw anyone at all. The effects of the mead hadn’t yet worn off, judging by the way the world and its golden glow tilted every so often. In fact, the condition seemed to be getting worse. He knew the sheaves of wheat beneath the statue and carved into the walls and the floor were all still, but the mead fever made them seem to wave and bend. He wiped a cold sheen of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.
“Ah. You’ve come.”
Jav jumped, then glanced over his shoulder. “Head Priest Rifan. You were expecting me?”
“Yes. The queen preceded you.” Rifan clasped his hands behind his back.
“Just a quick prayer,” he muttered, hoping the elder priest would leave him alone. He had… hard questions he wanted to ask. But the head priest? Couldn’t there be someone lower in the hierarchy he could confide to? And what was that he had said about the queen? “Wait, she was here?”
“Yes, she was quite upset herself.”
He found that hard to believe but said nothing for a moment.
“It’s difficult to lose a daughter. But I believe you have a different concern in mind.” Taking a few steps forward, Rifan knelt beside him.
There was no avoiding this, was there? Rifan sensed something was wrong and probably wouldn’t leave until Jav divulged it. “I received some orders… Orders I’m struggling with. Sir, did she mention the details of my task?”
“She did.” The frown deepened in the old man’s brow.
“Is this really the work of the goddess?” he said softly. Rifan’s eyes were reverently fixed on the statue, while Jav’s were on him.
“You know our laws, Javarin. Better than most of those your age. You’ve been with us a long time.”
“I know, sir. But…” He forced his gaze back to the statue, like the priest’s.
“But it’s hard to accept when you have to carry it out yourself for the first time. With someone you know well.”
“Yes.”
“You have served ardently, but you have walked an easy path so far. You could be a great knight, though, you know. If you rise to the occasion. Knights can protect more than just nobles.”
“Is this the occasion to which I must rise?” He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear he was wrong.
“Indeed, it is. I know it hurts a generous and noble soul like yours, Javarin, but if we let mages live, we do everyone harm—mages and innocents alike.”
His brow twitched at those labels, but he quickly smoothed it. Rifan wasn’t looking at him anyway, but just in case. “What harm is there in allowing them their freedom?”
“You can see the power of the magic evidenced in Kavanar. But there’s also the matter that she’d bear other mages as her children. And so the corruption continues. So the corruption spreads.”
“If she—” He stopped himself. Too familiar. He couldn’t let Rifan suspect there were any deeper personal feelings behind his struggle; Alekur’s comments showed Jav had already revealed more than he’d intended. “What if a mage swore an oath never to use their magic, what then?”
“There are some lands that tolerate this. But it’s not a promise most mages can keep. It’s not practical.”
“You would think staying alive would be more than practical.”
“Some work their magic unintentionally. Some even have been known to work it in their sleep. It’s an impossible oath. But even if they claimed they were keeping this promise, how could we be sure? Darkness lies in that way of thinking. It’s not necessarily more humane than putting them out of their misery.”
He sighed. The beeswax scent of the candles had always warmed and reassured him, but now, it felt somehow stale, antiquated, off. Maybe it was the mead. His head was not right. He struggled not to say the words that pushed at him, begging to be brought to life. The priest would think him a heretic.
But didn’t he need to voice his concern to have it proven wrong? How else would he overcome this internal resistance? He pressed his lips together, watching the flame of the candle dancing in a faint draft.
He had to ask. He steeled himself and spoke. “Why would Nefrana plant such a seed if she didn’t intend for it to grow?”
Rifan finally turned his gaze toward Jav, a calm, placid smile on his face. “Ah, yes. That old argument. Well, we can’t speak for the gods, son. Can we? Who knows their mysterious ways?”
The priest seemed to be wanting him to speak or agree, but he couldn’t manage it. He turned his gaze back to the candles.
“But… since you’re asking,” Rifan continued, voice rough but gentle. “Some of us believe that perhaps it is caused by a flawed heart in the mother while a child is in the womb. Others have theorized it could be that magic itself flows through the world, seeks out weak children, and infects them.”
“But there’s… nothing they can do? They’re just born that way?”
“It appears so. There is a school of thought that suggests it is a break in the mind, a kind of madness, or that the weak children might draw the magic at various points all the way into adolescence. We don’t really know. What we do know, though, is that magic is deeply unnatural. And more dangerous than you can imagine.”
“What does it do that’s so dangerous?”
“Ah, but to know that is to take the very corruption into your head. It’s best not to know unless you choose to become a truly great knight of the highest order.”
“What sort of knight is that?”
“Those who hunt the mages as their primary duty. It is a great honor.”
Jav hung his head. He knew all these arguments abstractly; he’d been a good study. They weren’t what he needed. If it was possible to be convinced that Iseris’s execution was just and Nefrana’s will, Rifan was not the man to do it.
So, that failing, he needed a loophole. An out. Something to make sense of all the dreams. And the only thing he could think of was her innocence. If she weren’t truly a mage, and this was only a political ploy to remove her, then Nefrana would still will him to protect her.
She was innocent. She had to be.
“Thank you, sir,” he forced himself to say. He would have to change tactics here. “I seek only to understand our enemy better. So you say these great knights hunt only mages?”
“Yes.”
“And why are they taught what magic does?”
“To track them better. Their knowledge helps them locate and identify mages.”
That sounded like a polite way to say hunt. Jav tried to hide the way his shoulders tensed.
Rifan continued, not noticing. “But they also have another way. Sometimes, they carry a tool—a Devoted Stone. It has the power to detect magic. There are perhaps two dozen of these powerful stones in the whole world, and we are blessed enough to have one here. Have you seen it?”
He shook his head. He had learned of the existence of Devoted Stones in his studies, and he had the general notion that the temple had one in its possession. But he had never actually seen one of them, much less how it reacted to magic. “How does a rock help?”
“Oh, it is no mere rock. You’d know if you’d seen it in action. When in the presence of magic, the stone itself glows with an orange light as warm as these sacred flames lit for Nefrana.”
“Why have I never seen us use it?” And had anyone actually used theirs to verify Alekur’s claims about Iseris?
“Mages are exceptionally rare around here, so it’s not needed. The king doesn’t like us to carry it around as though we have some kind of infestation.”
“Of course. Well. I can only aspire to such lofty honors as those great knights.” In truth, the idea turned his stomach, even more than it already was flipped upside down at this point, but he had to say something to get rid of Rifan, to end this torture.
“You’re doing the right thing. Magic causes those it infects to suffer greatly. The evil gives mages terrible, dark nightmares. You’ll see it by the exhaustion and worry that always clouds their eyes.”
He stared hard at nothing, eyes unfocused. Iseris did always look worried. Haggard, even. He remembered the apple he’d given her just hours ago. She’d eaten it like a starving, terrified rabbit as they ran. Why was she so afraid?
Afraid because she knew something he didn’t? What else could he have missed about her? Alekur’s words floated back to him. I’ve seen her watching you, too.
