Aedre gives the hammer to a young man, presumably the smith’s apprentice, as her father wipes his hands on the front of his apron.
“I’ve finished your sword.” He walks around us and, picking up my new weapon, hands it to me.
The pattern-welded core with welded-on cutting edges, typical of a Voyager sword, is the reason I asked for it to be made. Well, one of them.
“A fine sword indeed.” I turn it over in my hand. “Your craftsmanship would be most desired in the capital. The master smith there is old, his hands feeble. His apprentice is young and not so skilled.”
Aedre and her father exchange a glance that I don’t quite understand.
Instead of guessing at its meaning, I set the sword aside and pull out the coin purse I’d prepared. Handing it to Master Dal, I’m surprised when he pushes it back toward me.
“Nay, I will not take your coin.”
I look at Aedre, but she seems as surprised as I am.
“I do not understand,” I say, attempting to give it to him again.
A shadow crosses the smith’s face. Anger, barely concealed.
“Aedre told me about your conversation with Father Beald.”
“I didn’t take kindly to his threats. Nor would King Galfrid.”
I want this man to trust me. Mayhap even like me. So I nod to the apprentice, and Aedre’s father sends him off on an errand. Once the three of us are alone, I tell him what I confessed to Aedre, from the tragedy of the ship sinking to the threat posed by the king’s nephew. And of course, to the role Kipp plays in all of it.
“He will not go with you.”
Aedre gives me a Did I not say so already? look.
“If he does not, Galfrid will be forced to name another as heir. But I fear even the best of men will not be accepted before his own nephew.”
“Especially since the church is backing him,” Aedre adds.
“Aye.”
I can tell from his expression Aedre had not yet relayed this information to her father.
“You came a long way, my lord, for little gain.”
His words echo his daughter’s, but my response is the same.
“He must.” I try one final time to hand Master Dal the coin, but he pushes it back.
“You’ve given my family a great boon, if indeed the Elderman will stay away. Keep your coin.”
I pick the sword back up, thanking him again for such fine craftsmanship.
“I wish you luck on your quest. Aedre can no doubt arrange a meeting, but do not expect Kipp to answer with anything but contempt.”
She already has agreed to do so, and I’m learning as much.
With nothing more to keep me here, I thank the smith once again and turn to leave. Closing my eyes as I step outside, I attempt to calm the slamming of my heart in my chest.
“Vanni?”
She stops me just as I’m about to bid farewell to Lady Edrys.
When I spin around, she freezes. If my expression is too harsh, it’s only because I’m struggling to control my reaction to her.
“Meet me at the rock?” she whispers.
No five words have ever sounded sweeter.
Chapter Seventeen Aedre
I watch him for a moment as I approach. Vanni, sitting atop my rock, our rock, framed by the sea and the cliffs beyond. He looks peaceful, almost. And yet his skills with a sword are already infamous in Murwood End.
His men are skilled too, but Vanni did not become the king’s commander simply because the king is fond of him. He obviously earned that right, and some are openly wondering if he could best Kipp.
No one could conceive of such a thing before Vanni arrived.
Kipp’s father was so skilled with a sword he could have become a court advisor in Meria or Edingham. Instead, he chose the life of a mercenary . . . and did well enough he built Nord Manor.
I look toward it now, far off to the right, on a tidal island only accessible by foot at low tide. Watching its construction gave the people of Murwood End years of entertainment. The manor, and the man who owns it, represent the best of us.
Independent. Ruled by no one. Sometimes inaccessible but still bold and beautiful.
I look back to Vanni, who sees me and likely wonders why I don’t join him. Or why I brought him here in the first place.
What should I say to him?
Despite the invitation I was so quick to give, I still don’t know.
Amma and I talked well into the night, and her admission that Vanni may not be dangerous was tempered by a warning.
He may not wish you harm, my child. But pain takes many forms.
As a Garra, I know the truth of her words well. Even still, I walk toward him, compelled by a force stronger than my conflicted thoughts. Scrambling over small rocks to get to the large one, I greet Vanni as he stands.
My “good day” turns to something less intelligible as I stumble—and he easily catches me. I take his hand instinctively, his strong fingers wrapping around mine.
I’ve regained my balance, but he still doesn’t let me go.
Unlike the last time we were here, today the sea is calm, a steady clapping of water on the rocks. There’s something seductive about it. Coupled with Vanni’s gaze and the heat of his hand, it urges me to get closer to him . . .
Without thinking of the consequences, I close the distance between us, looking up into his eyes. But unlike the evening before, I am no longer scared. Aye, he will leave in a few days. But if I must think of the king’s commander when I sit upon this rock, then I will do so without regret.
“You ran from me,” he says, still holding my hand. “Twice.”
If there was anything I’ve ever wanted more than Vanni d’Abella to kiss me, I cannot remember it at this moment.
“I know better than others not to trifle with matters of the heart.”
He takes my other hand, and my eyes flutter shut of their
