Her Knight's Quest: A Warriors of the Mist Novel by Alexis Morgan

Right now the pain made that seem likely. Odd. Normally, no matter how horrific the wound, the pain always faded quickly. It was one of the few positives about being one of the Damned, allowing them to fight on when other men would’ve been screaming in the dirt. This time, though, his leg was on fire, the burning bone-deep all the way from his hip to his ankle.
    He did his best to ignore it as he hobbled down the passageway, trying to keep up with his companion. Right now he needed to ask her a question—a favor, really. Aiming for his best guess as to how a humble scribe might approach the problem, he kept his voice low and soft. “My lady, might I make a suggestion?”
    She shot him a dark look. “Humble doesn’t suit you at all, Sir Duncan. Besides, the scribes I am acquainted with don’t wield a weapon with such skill, and most knights I’ve met are barely literate.”
    He should’ve known she wouldn’t have achieved the rank of abbess at such a young age without being a good judge of people, not to mention possessing a fierce intellect. Still, he was mildly insulted by her assessment of his abilities.
    At this point it would serve no purpose to deny that he’d won his spurs, so he didn’t bother to try. “I assure you, my lady, that I am both literate and capable of performing all the usual duties of a scribe.”
    She stopped to give him a considering look. “Perhaps later you’ll explain to me why a swordsman of your skill would want to seek employment with a pen rather than your blade. If you’re in need of money, a warrior would earn far more than a scribe.”
    The number of men who had died upon his sword didn’t bear thinking about. “Perhaps the reason is as simple as a preference for spilling ink rather than spilling blood.”
    That truth cut a little too close to the bone for comfort. Rather than linger there, he started walking again, leaving Lavinia to follow as she would.
    When she caught up with him, she laid her hand on his arm. “Your suggestion. What is it?”
    It was the lightest of touches, but its impact on him was fierce. Suddenly, his leg wasn’t the only part of his body that was making it difficult to walk. He stared down into her face. The plain gray robes did nothing to disguise her beauty. Now wasn’t the time for such thoughts, especially about her. He tried to concentrate on the real problem at hand.
    “Could you ask that all of Rubar’s possessions and those of the other guard be brought somewhere they can be examined? The clothing they were wearing as well.”
    She looked at him with a great deal of suspicion. “I can, but what do you hope to find?”
    He gave her the only answer he could. “I’ll tell you as soon as I know.”
    *  *  *
    Within minutes Duncan was settled in Lavinia’s office, staring through the window at a truly amazing garden. What it lacked in size, it certainly made up for in a riot of color and variety. He would’ve been quite content to find a book and sit out there, reading for hours on end.
    It was unlikely Lady Lavinia would invite a man, especially one she held in such obvious distrust, to share her private garden. With all of her responsibilities, she probably hoarded the hours of peace that could be found there. It was what he would have done.
    Interesting. He moved closer to the window. The metal stand in the center of the garden held a bowl, perhaps one meant to lure birds with a drink of water. If so, why was it covered with a black cloth?
    A noise caught his attention. Duncan cocked his head to the side to listen. Footsteps were headed in this direction. He stepped back from the window and returned to the chair the abbess had offered him. He wouldn’t want her to think he’d abused her trust by snooping around in her office.
    When the door opened, he was leaning back, his eyes closed as if he were enjoying a few minutes of rest.
    “Sir Duncan, are you awake?”
    Once again he fought against the urge to smile. She was testing