The Kinshield Legacy by K.C. May Read Free Book Online

back with a tiny hand. Droplets streamed from dark brown, almond-shaped eyes as she hugged her knees to her chest. Her coughing spasms grew further apart, and she began to shiver. The pale pink dress clung to her legs and dripped, forming a puddle around her.
    “How’d you end up in the river?” he asked as he untied his bedroll.
    “Slipped,” she said shyly, averting her eyes.
    Gavin pressed his lips together. He wouldn’t hurt her, but he knew from the way she leaned away that his appearance frightened her. “Here. Let’s wrap you up in this.” He flapped open the bedroll and draped it around her shoulders. She pulled it tightly around her.
    Something rustled in the brush upstream. Gavin put a finger to his lips, then motioned the woman to stay there. He yanked the leather glove tucked under Golam’s saddle and pulled it onto his left hand. Quietly, he drew the sword from its scabbard. He crept as silently as he could through the thicket.
    A brown donkey stopped short, its eyes widening in fear. Its lead rope dragged the ground, and a leather pack straddled its back. It snorted and stepped away from him. “Easy, fellah.” Gavin approached slowly and reached for the lead rope, then led the animal back to where the woman waited with Golam.
    “Is this yours?” he asked the Farthan woman.
    “Oh! Yes.” She began to laugh. “Yes, yes! It is my donkey. Then I am not dead and you are not angel of Yrys?” She looked up at him.
    “Hardly,” Gavin said as he tied the donkey’s lead to a nearby tree.
    “Oh, your head.” Concern wrinkled her forehead. “You are injure.”
    Gavin reached up and touched his head, realizing then that it hurt like hell. His hand came away bloody.
    “You need healer.”
    “I don’t need a healer. It’s only a scratch.”
    “You are injure because of saving me, so now I can help you,” she said. “Bend down so I will reach you.”
    “No need.” He peeled off his cold, wet shirt, wrung the water out, then dabbed his forehead with it. Soon, no more blood seeped from the wound. He scowled, bewildered yet not terribly surprised. A week ago, he’d cut himself while sharpening his dagger, and the wound had closed almost as he watched it.
    “Magic healing, that is,” she said.
    No, that wasn’t possible. He had no magic ability. There must have been some other explanation for it. Healthy food, too little ale. Something.
    Gavin considered what to do next. Putting the woman on the jackass and sending her off was out of the question. She’d nearly died in that river. He needed to see her home to make sure she didn’t faint on the way. Besides, a few more coins in his purse as valour-gild wouldn’t be unwelcome.
    “Can you stand?” he asked, offering her his arm. “I’ll take you home.”
    “Yes.” She gripped Gavin’s forearm, her hand small against the vast width of his arm. He lifted her onto Golam’s back and, after tying the donkey’s lead rope to his saddle, climbed up behind her. He wrapped the bedroll around them both. She leaned into the warmth of his body and dozed while they rode back to the city.
    The gems! They might have fallen into the river. He reached to pat his pocket, careful not to wake the woman with a touch she might misinterpret. His fingers felt the shapes within the pouch and he breathed his relief. He needed to find a safe place to keep them. Soon.
    As they rode, he wondered about his instantaneous healing. Something unnatural had happened, but what? And why? Maybe after he returned with the pendant, he would visit a mystic to find out what it was about.
    When they reached the northern border of the city, Gavin roused the Farthan for directions to her home. She directed him to the nearest market district, only another mile away.
    “What’s your name?” he asked.
    “I am Arlet Stronghammer. My husband is blacksmith, Risan. Of Stronghammer Blades.” She broke into tears. “…almost die… never see him again… owe you