CHAPTER 2
Keenan
The young woman and her determination to search for her friend weighed on Keenan the rest of the day. It wasn’t only that her brother-in-law was the crown prince of Ralnor, which would make her a valuable hostage despite what she thought.
It was her cheerful innocence. Liesl wasn’t a warrior, and she would be at the mercy of anyone who tried to hurt her on her journey.
Just like Mama.
Blinking Lord Percival’s rapier back into focus, Keenan tried again to brush his concerns aside, but the weapon merely sent his thoughts down a new trail.
Master Elias had given him the free time to learn swordplay from a friend in the guard.
He trained as often as he could so he’d be ready when he saw a need.
If none of the guards could be spared to protect Liesl, why couldn’t Keenan do it?
He sighed as he set the next piece of intricately shaped metal on the rapier. Master Elias might have let him go if Liesl were willing to wait a week or two. But Master Elias was gone.
The door banged against the wall, making Keenan jump. He muttered one of the salty words Miss Beatrice had failed to break him of.
“We have another order,” Geoffrey announced.
“I’ve asked you to enter more quietly,” Keenan growled, reaching for a different tool so he could pull off the piece he’d just misapplied. “And it had better not be a custom order. I told you, I’m finishing the ones we already have and then I’m leaving.”
“But I thought you enjoyed being a smith.”
“I do,” Keenan said slowly, twisting to look at his foster brother. He didn’t like the false astonishment in Geoffrey’s voice.
Geoffrey frowned. “The guild agreed to grandfather you in here, but they won’t let you work anywhere else, Keenan. You would have to be a journeyman for that.”
“I’m—” Keenan closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, suppressing the rising anger. “I’ve been a journeyman for two years, and you know it.”
“Not quite.” A touch of something that might have been sympathy tugged at Geoffrey’s mouth.
“Father filed the paperwork for your journeyman certification two years ago, but a recent review of your apprenticeship contract found it invalid. There was no apprenticeship fee paid, and neither of your parents signed.”
A strange mixture of cold and heat pulsed through Keenan’s chest as he carefully set the rapier down and stood. “You know very well why that was. On both counts.”
“The guild doesn’t care.” Geoffrey shrugged. “I checked.”
He was probably the person who asked the guild to conduct the review.
Keenan clamped his mouth shut, shoving the words down. He didn’t think he could stomach working for Geoffrey the rest of his life.
But could he bear to give up his work as a smith instead?
Spinning on his heel, he strode for the door. Geoffrey followed. “Where are you going? Lord Percival will be here first thing in the morning.”
“Finish it yourself,” Keenan growled, storming out the door. “I’m going home.”
~
“Keenan?” Miss Beatrice’s worried voice greeted him as soon as he slammed the front door. “What are you doing home so early? Is everything all right?”
Ripping his cloak from his shoulders, he tossed it on his pallet and pressed his hands to his face.
He never should have stayed. If he’d found another position as soon as Master Elias made him a journeyman, he could have been established elsewhere by now.
Master Elias treating him as a son wouldn’t have been an issue.
But he’d had no way of knowing that the guild would find a problem with the paperwork.
No reason to believe that Geoffrey would dig it up.
And Master Elias and Miss Beatrice’s small house had been his home since he was eight years old.
Sleeping on a pallet in their front room was better than a room to himself in a lonely tenement.
“Keenan?” One of Miss Beatrice’s hands settled gently on his arm. “A fight with Geoffrey hasn’t sent you running since you were thirteen. Or is it…” She trailed off, her eyes drifting down the hall.
He dragged his hands down his face. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Then why did you come home?” she asked with a knowing look.
Because home was safe. And he needed someplace safe to process the news Geoffrey had just given him.
Wrapping her hand around his arm, she tugged him toward the kitchen. “Since you’re here, you can help me prepare supper. It will give your hands something to do.”
And by help, she meant slice vegetables and peel potatoes. She hadn’t let him touch the cooking in years; he always ruined it.
Keenan followed without complaint, knowing she was right. As the rhythmic thunk of the knife against the wooden table settled into his bones, a little of his tension began to leach out.
But it lulled him too well. He set the table with four places.
Miss Beatrice covered her mouth and spun back to the stove when she saw it.
She was just emerging from the kitchen with a steaming dish when Geoffrey strolled through the door. He scowled at Keenan as he took his seat. “The embellishments are your responsibility,” he said without preamble. “I refuse to finish the rapier for you.”
“Can’t, more like,” Keenan scoffed, dropping into his own chair. “Your fat hands—”
“Boys!” Miss Beatrice’s voice was quiet but firm, silencing them as surely as it had when they were eight and ten. “No fighting at the table.”
They subsided, but they glared at each other across their plates.
After a few minutes of passing dishes, she cleared her throat. Flicking her eyes between them, she asked, “How was your day?”
Keenan kept chewing, not interested in sharing yet. Geoffrey eyed him for a moment, then smiled at his mother. “We had a visit from Prince Michael. He was wearing the centaur-embellished sword he bought from us, which is sure to improve business.”
“Was he bringing another order?”
Geoffrey frowned. “No. He wanted to talk to Keenan.”
Taking that as his cue, Keenan set his fork down and turned to Miss Beatrice. “Prince Axel’s sister-in-law is looking for a man who recently bought one of my swords.”
“How curious.” She swirled the food on her plate. “And they thought you would know something?”
He shrugged. “Apparently, I was the last person to speak with him. And the woman is determined to find him.”
“Heavens, I hope he’s all right.” Miss Beatrice pressed her free hand to her chest. “I heard that Princess Anne was kidnapped when I was out this morning. What if the same scoundrels found him?”
“I doubt it.” Keenan shook his head as he grabbed his fork again. “He bought the sword because he was setting out on a journey. The only mystery is why he didn’t tell anyone he was leaving.”
“Still,” she protested, “you can’t deny the roads don’t seem as safe now. Why, he could have been picked up after he left Hartford!”
And Liesl would be traveling the same roads. Her flashing eyes, bright as sunshine one moment and sharp as his daggers the next, forced themselves into his mind. Could he stand the guilt if the next sensational news in their city was her disappearance?
“She means to travel to Ryuni alone,” he blurted out. “Prince Axel’s sister-in-law, that is. She thinks being the daughter of a miller will keep her safe.”
His companions both stared at him, Miss Beatrice with her mouth slightly open and wide eyes, Geoffrey with tight lips. Keenan tightened his grip around his fork, the edges digging into his palm.
“Don’t expect me to keep your position open,” Geoffrey snapped, breaking the silence. “I can’t both run the front and fill those custom orders while you’re off gallivanting around the countryside with any dame who bats her eyes at you.”
“You can’t fill them anyway,” Keenan retorted.
Miss Beatrice’s eyebrows pulled together as she looked between them. “But I thought you intended to find work at another smithy, Keenan.”
“The guild decided my apprenticeship was invalid,” he said shortly. “Courtesy of Geoffrey.”
She turned to her son for an explanation, but Geoffrey ducked his head. “You can appeal their decision,” he mumbled. “I checked.”
To help him? Or so he would know if Keenan had a chance of escaping?
“What?” Geoffrey protested, sending a defiant glare in his mother’s direction. “After everything you and Father did for him, he was planning to leave before Father was cold in his grave! What was I supposed to do?”
Keenan stared at him. “Try being nicer.”
His foster brother scowled, tossed a crumpled napkin on his plate, and stormed out the front door.
Miss Beatrice sighed. “Don’t be too hard on him, Keenan. He’s always been jealous of how easily you took to Elias’s trade. Like a fish to water, you were. It was much harder for him.”
The knowledge didn’t make Geoffrey’s treatment of him any easier to handle. They’d been fighting about one thing or another for thirteen years. Without Master Elias as a buffer, Keenan at least needed a break.
“You aren’t really leaving us, are you? To protect this young woman?”
Her sorrowful voice pulled Keenan out of his irritated thoughts. It had only been a week since she’d lost her husband, and now Keenan was talking of going away as well.
“I need some space,” he finally said, dropping his eyes to his plate. “If I can’t find it in another smithy, then I’ll at least be of some use to her.”
“Keenan.” Miss Beatrice set a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t say anything when it was only another position in Hartford, but this is different. It is unwise to make life-changing decisions when under the influence of fresh grief. You should take more time to think this over.”
He gave her a wan smile. “She’s leaving in the morning. And I’m coming back, so it’s not a change. Just a little detour.” He patted her hand. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, Miss Beatrice.”
“Why do you never call me Mother?” she asked suddenly. “You’re like a son to Elias and me. But you always use our names.”
Keenan looked away, and she tightened her grip on his shoulder. “Helping every defenseless woman you see won’t erase your guilt, Keenan. That won’t fade until you forgive yourself.”
“I don’t help them all,” he protested weakly. “Only—”
“Elias thought he’d have to bail you out of jail when you broke that man’s nose last year,” she interrupted. “The only thing that saved you was the young woman’s testimony that the man had been hounding her.”
“That was—”
“And don’t forget the knife incident,” she continued, tipping her head forward and giving him the evil eye. “Elias had to relegate you to the front counter for two weeks because you would have torn your stitches if you’d handled a hammer.”
He held up a hand. “I admit, I should have grabbed a sword from the stall first. But if you’d seen the look in that man’s eyes right before he pulled her into the alley—”
“My point,” she stressed, holding his gaze, “is that you have a habit of jumping to the aid of young women in danger. Sometimes without thinking first.” Her hand moved to cup his cheek, just like she’d done when he was a little boy.
“I don’t want you to lose your life because you can’t forget that your mother—”
“I’m not jumping in front of an armed man with nothing but a leather apron this time,” he said fondly, gently lifting her hand from his face. “My presence itself might keep Miss Liesl from harm. Otherwise, she’ll be a lone woman traveling to another kingdom. She’ll attract danger.”
Miss Beatrice rose abruptly, pulling her hand free and disappearing into her bedroom. Sighing, Keenan began clearing the table. He didn’t want to upset her. But she would still have her real son if he left, and Liesl had no one.
He heard Miss Beatrice’s footsteps approaching as he set the pile of plates on the counter. She paused in the doorway, then continued toward him. “Elias and I planned to give you these for your birthday. But if you’re determined to go, you’ll need them now.”
Turning, he saw a sheathed sword and dagger in her hands.
“I can’t accept this!” he protested. The gryphon-embellished weapons were a matched set that he’d forged with his latest technique. “Do you know how much these would sell for?”
“I’ve seen the records.” Giving him a small smile, she pressed them into his chest. “And Elias would have known.”
“But—”
“Take them, Keenan.” Her tone resembled the one she’d used with him and Geoffrey earlier, but then it softened. “You’re worth it.”