Redemption (Book 6) (6 page)

Maklavir poked the greasy eggs on his plate with a definite lack of enthusiasm. “These look quite...well done.”

Kara sat in the chair across the table from him. Her breakfast sat uneaten on the table in front of her. She stared forlornly at the door to the inn’s common room.

Maklavir put his fork down with a sigh. He noticed Kara’s pensive stare. “I say, are you quite all right?”

Kara blinked and shook her head. “What? Oh, yes. Just fine.” She picked up a lumpy biscuit and weighed it in her hand. “Where do you suppose Joseph went?”

Maklavir turned his attention to his food again. “I couldn’t quite say. He was gone when I woke up this morning.” He put a hand on his shoulder with a frown. “If there’s one thing I’m getting tired of, it’s sleeping on the ground.”

“Rough night?” Kara asked. Her eyes were still on the door of the common room.

“I’ll say.” Maklavir picked up his own biscuit. He gave it a skeptical glance, and then dunked it in his water. “Those floorboards were hard as stones. The fire went out a little after midnight, and it was practically freezing in here. And that merchant from Llewyllan
snored
all night long—”

“I’m sorry, Maklavir,” Kara said absently.

“I mean, it’s one thing to make a man sleep on the floor, but quite another to—” Maklavir looked up from his food, and noticed that Kara wasn’t even looking at him. He straightened in his chair. “You’re worried about him, I take it?”

“The way he left last night....” Kara looked over at Maklavir quickly. “You don’t suppose he’s—?”

“No,” said Maklavir with a firm shake of his head. “Not Joseph. You...know how committed he is to you.” He looked wearily down at his water. “I suppose it would be too much to expect a decent cup of
tea
in a place like this.”

Kara looked over at Maklavir, almost as if she was seeing the diplomat for the first time. “Maklavir?”

“Yes?” said Maklavir. He picked up his fork again, steeling himself for another go at the eggs.

“What were you and Joseph fighting about yesterday morning?”

Maklavir dropped his fork onto his plate with a loud clatter. He snatched it up again with a sheepish look. “Clumsy fingers,” he mumbled.

“Maklavir?” Kara put both her hands on the table and narrowed her gaze. “What were you fighting about?”

Maklavir looked nervously towards the inn’s bar. “You know what, I’ll bet they might have some tea if I ask. Even coffee might—”

“
Maklavir
.” Kara’s eyes daggered into him. “What were you two fighting about?”

The diplomat leaned back in his chair. He rubbed sweaty palms against his trousers. “Oh, it was nothing, Kara. Silly, really. Just...a minor disagreement. Boys being boys.”

Kara gave a heavy sigh. She folded her hands on the table.

Maklavir rubbed nervously at his neck. “You’ve barely touched your food, Kara. Perhaps I can—”

Kara looked up, directly at the man across from him. “I think I know what is going on between the two of you.”

Maklavir didn’t move a muscle. “You...do?”

Kara looked over at the inn’s door again. “Yes. And I’ve noticed it too. It’s been hard not to over the last few weeks.”

Maklavir tried to swallow, but his mouth was bone dry. He set the fork back down on the table with a slightly trembling hand. “Yes, I see. I—” He rubbed his hands again on his pant legs. “Well, actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. About what Joseph and I were—” Maklavir’s face grew red. “Well, about what we were...
fighting
over yesterday—”

“Please, Maklavir.” Kara reached across the table and put her warm hand on top of Maklavir’s. “Let me speak first.”

Maklavir shut his mouth.

Kara glanced at the inn’s front door again. “I know I was in that coma for a long time, after the Soulbinder was destroyed.”

Maklavir didn’t say anything.

Kara looked back over at him. “And I know that Joseph has...changed. He’s not quite the same man he was before, at least not the one that I remember. I think what happened in Vorten—” She paused for a moment, her face blanching. “What happened to
me
...affected him. He won’t say it, of course, and I know he doesn’t like to talk about it, but I think the whole experience shook him more than he wants to admit.”

Maklavir clasped his hands on the table. He still didn’t speak.

Kara lowered her gaze to the tabletop. “I know that...that things have been tense between the two of you lately.”

Maklavir gave a small smile. “You could say that.”

Kara looked up at Maklavir with pleading emerald eyes. “Please, Maklavir. Give Joseph time. He’s still healing.” She put a hand unconsciously on her chest. “Just like me. Only with him it’s not physical.” She glanced again at the door, as if willing the pathfinder to appear. “It’s mental. Emotional.” She dropped her eyes. “Spiritual.” She looked at Maklavir again. “I know that’s why you two were fighting yesterday. And I know that’s why the two of you have been so cold to each other the last few weeks.” She tightened her grip on Maklavir’s hand. “Just...be extra patient with him, will you? For me.”

Maklavir felt suddenly cold. He looked down at his plate of half-eaten food. “You...really care about him, don’t you?” He took a breath and glanced up at Kara. “Joseph, I mean?”

Kara swept a strand of red hair out of her eyes. She looked shyly down at the table. “Of...course I do. I care about all of you. That’s why I’m trying to get to Redemption. Kendril needs our help.” She looked up at Maklavir. “When I lost Torin, I—” Her voice started to crack.

Maklavir waited patiently.

Kara looked away. There was a sparkle of tears in her eyes. “When I lost Torin,” she said slowly and deliberately, “I thought I would never have a family again. He was all I had left in the world, my only brother.” She looked back over at Maklavir and smiled. “But now...it feels like I
have
a family again. You and Kendril are like my brothers.”

Maklavir felt a sinking hole open up in his stomach. His eyes were fixed on Kara. He couldn’t take them off, couldn’t look away. “And Joseph?” he said at last. “Is he like a...
brother
to you too?”

Kara opened her mouth, but quickly shut it again. She just looked at Maklavir with a strange expression on her face.

There was a long moment of silence between the two of them.

“You...were going to tell me something,” said Kara in a small voice. “Before I interrupted you.”

Maklavir looked up suddenly, as if waking out of a dream. “Was I?” he said with a smile. “Was I indeed? You know, I really can’t remember what I was going to say now. Completely slipped my mind.” He sat back in his chair with a carefree expression on his face. “Can’t have been all that important, I imagine.”

Kara gave the man a searching glance. “Are...you sure you’re okay, Maklavir?”

“
Okay
?” Maklavir folded his hands together in front of him. “I’m absolutely marvelous.” He cocked his head. “I wouldn’t worry about Joseph, my dear. I’m sure the man will come around. We just need to give him more time.”

Kara nodded slowly, still gazing intently at Maklavir. “Yes.”

“Well,” said Maklavir as he tossed his napkin back on the table. “I for one plan on giving Joseph lots of grace, just like you suggested. I’m sure he’ll be back any moment now.”

Kara glanced down at Maklavir’s plate. “You’re all done?”

Maklavir looked at his food. “Yes. I have a stomach like a bird, I suppose.” He looked up at Kara with another smile. “Why don’t you head on upstairs. I’ll stay down here, keep a watch out for Joseph.”

Kara glanced anxiously at the door. “I suppose it would be nice to freshen up before we find a ship today.”

“Absolutely,” said Maklavir easily. “I’ll let you know when Joseph comes back.”

Kara got up from her seat. She crossed over to Maklavir and gave the diplomat a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Maklavir. For everything.”

“Don’t mention it,” Maklavir said.

Kara turned and disappeared up the staircase.

Maklavir sat in his chair, staring forlornly at the fire. The flames crackled and danced around the large log that lay in the hearth.

“Sir?” A buxom, pretty wench appeared at Maklavir’s side. She gestured to Kara’s plate. “Is your wife all done with her breakfast?”

Maklavir stared at the attractive woman for a moment, as if shaking himself out of a fog. “Wife?” he said at last, slipping once more into his easy smile. “Hardly. More like a...
sister
, really.”

The wench gave Maklavir an understanding smile. She took Kara’s plate and silverware.

Maklavir ran his eyes up and down the young woman’s shapely form. “I don’t suppose you have any tea at all?”

The wench glanced back at him. “I could certainly check, sir. Are you enjoying your breakfast?” She gave a flirtatious smile. “I made the eggs myself.”

“Did you?” Maklavir leaned forward in his chair. There was a predatory glint in his eyes. “Well, they were absolutely smashing.”

The woman giggled. “Thanks.”

“Here,” said Maklavir as he pushed back his chair and stood. “Allow me to help you with these.” He grabbed one of the plates off the table.

“Oh, no sir,” said the serving wench quickly, “it wouldn’t be proper. It’s my job to—”

“Nonsense,” said Maklavir firmly. “A gentleman always helps a woman.” He gave a roguish grin. “Especially one as lovely as yourself.”

The woman blushed deeply and giggled again.

“Now,” said Maklavir as he hefted the dishes. “Lead the way to the kitchen, my dear.”

Kara picked up the long bow.

It was a little smaller than the one she had had before, the weapon that she had used ever since her time as part of her brother’s bandit gang in the Howling Woods. Still, it seemed to be well-designed, with a good draw-weight to it. She had found it in Badera, just outside of the city of Rella. Her old bow, the one she had had for years, had been lost in the fires of Vorten.

The weapon felt deceptively light in her hand. Kara put a finger to the string, and plucked.

A sharp
twang
filled the room.

Kara took a deep breath. She extended out the long bow in her left hand, then grasped the string with her right. She aimed the unloaded weapon at the far wall of the inn’s bedroom.

This time, she could do it. She
would
do it.

Kara breathed out through her mouth. She pulled back the string.

It moved back, easily at first, then slowed as it hit resistance.

Kara felt the familiar burn of pain across her chest. She ignored it and kept pulling.

The string moved further back. The bow creaked.

Kara’s arm began to tremble. The pain in her chest flared and sharpened, like a knife was being stabbed into her.

She released the string with a sobbing gasp, letting it fall slowly into its ready position.

She hadn’t even gotten the bow drawn to the anchor point. If it had been loaded, it never would have fired accurately.

Kara sank down onto the bed, the bow still in her hand. She stared morosely at the floor of the room.

“Give yourself time,” said a quiet voice from the doorway. “You’ll heal.”

Kara looked over, startled.

Joseph stood in the doorway. The brown greatcoat and broad-brimmed hat he always wore were speckled with rain.

“It’s been a month,” Kara said. Her voice sounded small in her own ears. “A
month
and I can’t even draw a bow.” She shook her head. “You’re right, Joseph. I’m
useless
. What help am I going to be to Kendril, or to anyone else for that matter?”

Joseph came into the room. He took off his hat and tossed it onto the bed. “I never said you were useless.”

Kara gave a bitter smile. She put a hand to her chest and gently rubbed it. “Did you see Maklavir? He was waiting down in the common room for you.”

Joseph gave a short shake of his head. “Didn’t see him.”

“That’s odd.” Kara glanced over at Joseph. “Look, Joseph, about what happened last night. I just wanted to say—”

Joseph held up a hand. In it were three small, brown pieces of paper.

Kara frowned. “What are those?”

“Tickets,” came Joseph’s laconic reply. “We leave on the evening tide. For Redemption.”

Chapter 4

The early morning sky was red with smoke.

The chanting and wailing of the barbarian women had grown even louder, and the eerie pipes still played relentlessly from somewhere just out of sight in the woods beyond the Wall. It sounded as if all the ghosts of the dead were keening at once.

“Sir!” Sergeant Dyke grabbed Captain Lockhart and physically dragged him back a few steps.

Surprised, and halfway through reloading his pistol, Lockhart glanced around wildly.

The northern watchtower gave a crackling series of cracks. The wooden supports began to give way in the heat of the flames that were eating the entire structure. With a thunderous
boom
, the watchtower crashed forward over the Wall in a flurry of embers and scattering sparks. A wall of smoke erupted from where it fell.

A howl of triumph came from the barbarians on the other side of the Wall. A warrior climbed over the burning palisade, a spear clutched tightly in his hands.

One of the dragoons dropped to his knees and shot the Jombard through the head at point blank range.

Another Jombard appeared through the flames and smoke of the fallen watchtower. He was followed quickly by two more. All came running forward, heedless of the blazing fire, swirling smoke, and falling pieces of wood.

Lockhart retreated a step or two down the turf escarpment. He drew his sword.

Two shots sounded out from the milefort below.

Two of the Jombards spun and fell.

Dyke stepped forward and lowered a pistol. He took careful aim and fired.

The third Jombard dropped. His war cry died on his lips.

Hangman’s Hill was falling. The palisade was burning fiercely. Already the south watchtower was an inferno of flame and smoke. It was leaning heavily to one side, ready to fall any minute. Heedless of the flames and churning smoke, the Jombards were crawling over the blazing remnants of the wooden palisade. Some fell back screaming into the trench beyond the escarpment, their bodies covered with fire. For each that did, however, two more were climbing and hacking their way through the remains of the Wall.