Valor of the Healer by Angela Highland Read Free Book Online Page A

a man who’d just chased off assassins from his doorstep, and ill pleased to find unexpected Hawks in their wake.
    “May our vigilance keep and protect this Hall that shelters us in our flight.” Celoren gave the greeting’s traditional reply, inclining his head to the duke and then gesturing to Kestar. “This is Kestar Vaarsen. I’m Celoren Valleford. You honor us, Lord Kilmerredes. It’s a rare lord indeed who still upholds the ancient proprieties, and on a troubled night like this besides.”
    “Forgive our intrusion, my lord. We learned what befell your house tonight on our way up the mountain,” Kestar said, dipping his own head low.
    “Vaarsen,” Kilmerredes grunted, eyes gleaming in the parlor’s lamplight. “Of the Vaarsens of Bremany?”
    That caught Kestar off guard, and for a few moments disquiet churned through him. With an effort he tamped it down. “Yes, my lord. Baron Dorvid Vaarsen was my father.”
    “I see. So then, Vaarsen. If you already know what’s gone on under my roof tonight, why are you here?”
    Celoren shot Kestar a look, opened his mouth, and then closed it again without a word. Though the older Hawk had the more facile tongue, there was nothing he could say. Not when the duke had questioned Kestar, and not when Celoren had even less idea of their purpose than he. Composing a swift mental prayer to the Father, Mother, Son and Daughter, Kestar drew in a breath and opted for as much truth as he could risk.
    “We received...word, my lord, of possible magical activity on your land.” That was as good a description as any of the dream that had driven him and Celoren into the night. “We rode here tonight to seek your permission to search the grounds. Only on arriving did we hear that Lomhannor had been breached.”
    The duke stiffened. “ Possible magical activity? Your amulets haven’t spoken?”
    “No, my lord.” Kestar’s unease grew, but about this, he couldn’t lie. “They haven’t.”
    “We’d hoped that if we could search the grounds—discreetly, of course—we might judge the veracity of what we were told,” Celoren hastily appended.
    “If you wish to search, sirs, join my guardsmen on the hunt for the criminals who invaded my Hall,” Kilmerredes growled. “Only they could have brought magic here. And I’ll thank you to keep from alarming my people, particularly my lady wife, who lies ill. We need no further disruption tonight.”
    “Of course, my lord.” Celoren held up his hands, palms out.
    “Indeed, we don’t need to disturb any of your people, Lord Kilmerredes,” Kestar affirmed. “We’ll be glad to assist your men. We can spare the time from our patrol.”
    “Thank you,” the duke barked as he spun on his booted heel and strode out the way he’d come. “Pardon me, gentlemen, for leaving you to it. I intend to look after my wife. Speak with my head groom if you require fresh horses.”
    A sense of warning pulled Kestar’s nerves taut as a bowstring, yet he could point at no clear indication of what was wrong. Was he imagining things? Had he dragged Celoren up the mountain for nothing?
    “We’d best be off to help the search.” Celoren pitched his voice for Kestar’s ears alone even after Holvirr Kilmerredes’s footsteps faded into the reaches of Lomhannor Hall. “If something’s here, perhaps this is the way to find it.”
    His assurance, and the simple fact that his partner believed in what they were doing, heartened Kestar considerably. “Searching for assassins doesn’t fall within our purpose,” he pointed out nonetheless.
    “It does if the assassins are using magic.”
    “Let’s hope they are. Then at least there’ll be a reason I’m leading us both on a chase for wild geese.”
    Celoren’s best rakish grin flared. “If we catch any, you can pluck them. I could use a new pillow.”
    The humor helped too, lending more spring to Kestar’s step as they ventured back outside. Their horses, he mused, would have barely cooled