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Chapter 239: Lord Kaeven

As Beric climbed into the carriage, he found Tomas seated beside Lady Laelyn, closer than propriety would normally allow. Lady Mara had awakened and was watching the pair with open disapproval, though she said nothing.

"We'll reach the Rimaris estate by midday if we maintain our pace," Beric announced, taking his position opposite Lady Laelyn. "Lord Kaeven's Lightweavers will meet us at the northern gate and escort us the rest of the way to the Academy."

"Will we be safe there?" Lady Mara asked. "After what happened at the inn..."

"The Rimaris estate is among the most secure in the region," Beric assured her. "Lord Kaeven maintains a personal guard of Radiant-Touched warriors and at least two Rank 3 Lightweavers at all times. We will be well protected."

As he spoke, Beric noticed Tomas listening intently, his eyes focused on some middle distance as though memorizing every detail. Another suspicious behavior, or merely the natural curiosity of someone thrust into an unfamiliar world of nobility and politics?

"Once we reach Lord Kaeven's protection," Lady Laelyn said, "we can finally relax our vigilance somewhat." She turned to Tomas with a gentle smile. "And we can figure out what we’ll do with you in the academy.”

Beric didn't miss the implication, she was already planning for Tomas's continued presence in her life, finding ways to keep him close despite the vast social gulf between them.

The carriage lurched into motion as the driver urged the fresh horses forward.

The journey resumed, the wheels finding their rhythm on the packed earth of the forest road. Through the small windows, the landscape began to reveal itself in the growing light, dense woodland giving way to occasional clearings, a stream glittering in the distance, birds awakening to greet the new day with their songs.

Under normal circumstances, it would have been a pleasant journey, perhaps even peaceful. But the tension within the carriage remained palpable, a silent current running beneath the occasional murmured conversation.

Beric maintained his vigilant watch, dividing his attention between the passing landscape (scanning constantly for potential threats) and Tomas.

The boy had fallen into what appeared to be genuine sleep, his head resting against the carriage wall, his breathing deep and regular. Even unconscious, his features retained a certain guarded quality, as though some part of him remained alert.

Lady Laelyn had dozed off as well, her head tilting unconsciously toward Tomas's shoulder without quite making contact. Lady Mara watched the young noblewoman with evident concern, her lips pressed into a disapproving line.

"She is too trusting," the older woman whispered to Beric, careful not to wake the sleeping pair. "Just like her grandmother was."

Beric nodded grimly. The comparison was apt and troubling.

Lady Vareyn the Elder had been known for her unorthodox ideas and her willingness to engage with those outside the traditional power structures. That openness had made her beloved by commoners and reformists alike, and dangerously suspect to the conservative elements within the Order.

Her death, while officially attributed to natural causes, had always seemed too convenient to Beric. Too perfectly timed to silence a voice that had grown increasingly influential within the Order's hierarchy. He had never voiced these suspicions to Laelyn, not wanting to deepen her grief with uncertainties he couldn't prove.

But he had redoubled his protection of her afterward, recognizing that she might inherit not only her grandmother's gifts but also the dangers they attracted.

"History need not repeat itself," Beric replied softly to Lady Mara. "I failed Lady Vareyn once. I will not fail her granddaughter."

The older woman's eyes widened slightly at this admission, the closest Beric had ever come to acknowledging his suspicions about the elder Lady Vareyn's death. She nodded once, a silent agreement to keep his confidence, then turned her attention back to the passing landscape.

The carriage continued its journey northward, the horses maintaining a steady pace despite the increasingly rough terrain. The forest road was less traveled than the main eastern route, with roots occasionally breaking through the packed earth and branches reaching across the path from either side. It made for slower progress but offered greater security, fewer opportunities for ambush, fewer travelers to report their passage.

As the blue sun climbed higher in the sky, its cerulean light filtering through the canopy above, Beric allowed himself a moment of cautious optimism. They had put significant distance between themselves and the inn. The escort guards had reported no signs of pursuit. By midday, they would reach the Rimaris estate and the additional protection Lord Kaeven had promised.

Perhaps they had evaded their pursuers for now. Perhaps the mysterious Skybound had indeed eliminated the Lightweaver assassins, inadvertently doing them a service despite its own undoubtedly sinister motives.

The thought of the Skybound brought Beric's attention back to Tomas. Could there be a connection? The timing of the boy's appearance was suspicious, coinciding with two separate attacks by different factions. And there was the matter of his unusual physical capabilities, running down a carriage at full gallop, displaying a level of composure that belied his supposed background, moving with the economy of a trained fighter rather than a village youth.

For a moment, an absurd thought crossed Beric's mind: could Tomas himself be the mysterious Skybound that had intervened at the inn?

The idea was preposterous on its face.

The hooded figure had displayed power far beyond what any village boy could possess, manipulating plants, moving with supernatural speed, radiating an aura of red sun energy that even the escort guards had sensed from a distance.

Besides, Skybound practitioners were universally corrupted by the red sun's influence. They became savage, bloodthirsty creatures driven by rage and destruction. They did not save Saintess candidates or engage in rational conversation.

Beric shook his head, smiling grimly at his own wild speculation. He was allowing paranoia to cloud his judgment, seeing conspiracies where simple coincidence might suffice. The boy was suspicious, yes, and warranted continued observation. But a Skybound infiltrator? That strained credulity beyond its breaking point.

Still, as Beric watched Tomas sleeping opposite him, he couldn't quite dismiss a lingering sense of wrongness, a feeling that beneath the village boy's humble exterior lay something altogether different.

Something potentially dangerous.

He would continue his vigilance. He would fulfill his oath of protection. And if Tomas proved to be more than he appeared, Beric would be ready. Lady Laelyn's safety, both physical and emotional, depended on it.

***

The sun had reached its zenith when the landscape finally began to change. Dense forest gave way to carefully tended orchards and manicured fields, the first signs that they were approaching civilized lands. Beric felt some of the tension ease from his shoulders as the familiar silhouette of the Rimaris estate appeared on the horizon.

Unlike the austere fortresses that many noble houses maintained, the Rimaris ancestral home was a sprawling complex of elegant buildings surrounded by extensive gardens. Its beauty, however, belied its defensive capabilities.

Beric knew from previous visits that intricate barrier formations were woven throughout the property, invisible to the untrained eye but capable of repelling all but the most determined attackers.

"We've arrived," Beric announced, nudging Lady Laelyn gently awake.

She stirred, blinking away sleep as she oriented herself. Her hand, Beric noted with disapproval, had somehow found its way to rest atop Tomas's during their journey. She withdrew it quickly as awareness returned, though not before a faint blush colored her cheeks.

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"Lord Kaeven's estate," she murmured, peering through the window at the approaching structures. "I'd forgotten how beautiful it is."

Tomas had awakened as well, his transition from sleep to alertness notably swift, another detail that struck Beric as inconsistent with his supposed background. Village folk typically woke gradually, especially after exhaustion. This boy snapped to consciousness like a soldier in hostile territory.

"Is that it?" Tomas asked, his eyes widening as he took in the elegant architecture and expansive grounds. If his amazement was an act, it was a convincing one.

"The Rimaris family estate," Lady Mara supplied. "One of the oldest noble houses still aligned with the Order of the First Light."

As they approached the main gates, Beric observed a welcoming party assembling in the circular drive beyond.

At its center stood Lord Kaeven himself, a tall, broad-shouldered man whose silver-streaked dark hair and beard framed features that managed to be both aristocratic and approachable.

Flanking him were six figures in the distinctive pale blue robes of Lightweavers, their hands clasped formally before them.

"The promised escort," Beric remarked, mentally assessing their formation. Two Rank 3 Lightweavers, as agreed, positioned slightly ahead of the others who appeared to be Rank 2. A respectable force, capable of deterring most threats.

The carriage rolled through the ornate iron gates, which swung open at their approach without any visible operator.

As they entered the grounds properly, Beric felt the subtle tingle of crossing a security threshold, like passing through a curtain of static electricity.

"Remember your station," he murmured to Tomas as the carriage slowed to a halt. "Lord Kaeven is one of the most influential nobles in the region, second only to the Spire Elders themselves."

Tomas nodded, his expression appropriately deferential, though Beric caught a flash of something like calculation in his eyes as he assessed the Lightweavers waiting beyond the carriage windows.

The door opened from outside, a liveried servant bowing deeply as he extended a small set of steps to facilitate their exit.

Beric disembarked first, scanning the surroundings before offering his hand to assist Lady Mara. Lady Laelyn followed, her posture instantly transforming into the perfect poise expected of a noble daughter. Tomas came last, hanging back slightly as protocol demanded.

"Niece," Lord Kaeven stepped forward, greeting the daughter of his friend. "How delighted I am to see you safe."

"Lord Rimaris," Laelyn replied with an elegant curtsy. "Your hospitality honors us, especially in such troubled times."

The formal greetings continued, following the intricate dance of noble etiquette that Beric had witnessed countless times. Lady Mara was welcomed, the journey inquired after, condolences offered for the "unfortunate incidents" that had necessitated their hasty departure from the inn, all couched in the oblique language of high society.

It was only when Lord Kaeven's gaze fell upon Tomas that the rhythm of formality faltered. "And this young man?" he inquired, one silver eyebrow raising slightly. "I don't believe we were informed of an additional member of your party."

Before Beric could intervene with an appropriate explanation, Lady Laelyn stepped forward. "This is Tomas of Porvale," she said, her tone conveying that the introduction was not merely a formality. "He saved my life during the first assassination attempt. His village was destroyed by Skybound raiders, and he has been under my protection since."

Lord Kaeven studied the boy with newfound interest, his experienced eyes likely noting the same incongruities that Beric had observed. "Indeed? Then we owe you a debt of gratitude, young man. Any friend of House Vareyn is welcome in my home."

"You're most kind, my lord,” Tomas bowed. “I'm grateful for any shelter you can provide."

"More than shelter, I think," Lord Kaeven replied with a benevolent smile that didn't quite reach his calculating eyes. "Any who have served Lady Laelyn so valiantly deserve proper recognition." He turned to one of his attendants. "See that guest quarters are prepared in the east wing."

Beric frowned slightly.

The east wing was typically reserved for guests of noble birth or significant importance, not common refugees. He caught Lord Kaeven's eye, a silent communication passing between them. The older man gave an almost imperceptible nod, he, too, had noted something unusual about Tomas and was keeping him close for observation.

"Now, you must all be exhausted," Lord Kaeven continued smoothly. "Refreshments have been prepared in the solarium, and baths drawn in your chambers. We can discuss the remainder of your journey to the Academy after you've had time to rest."

As the party moved toward the main house, Beric positioned himself to walk alongside Lord Kaeven, allowing Lady Laelyn to proceed ahead with Lady Mara and the attendants. Tomas had been separated from the group by one of the household stewards, to be shown to his quarters.

"Your message mentioned trouble, old friend," Lord Kaeven said quietly once they were out of earshot of the others. "But not the nature of it."

"Two attempts in as many days," Beric replied, keeping his voice low. "The latest at Crossroads Inn, just before dawn. Lightweavers, at least five of them."

Lord Kaeven's eyes widened slightly. "Not common assassins, then."

"No. And there's more." Beric hesitated, still processing the strange events himself. "A Skybound was present at the inn. It attacked the Lightweavers, not us. Made our escape possible."

"A Skybound?" Lord Kaeven's voice sharpened with interest. "What rank?"

"Difficult to say with certainty. Rank 2, possibly higher."

Lord Kaeven stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Curious. The Orders do not typically interfere with each other's operations so directly." His gaze shifted to where Tomas was being led into a side entrance of the manor. "And the boy? He's not what he appears to be, is he?"

Beric felt a surge of validation at having his suspicions shared by such an experienced observer. "No, I don't believe he is. Though I cannot say what he might be instead."

"A spy for House Daverrin, perhaps? They've made no secret of their desire to place their own daughter on the Saintess' seat."

"Perhaps," Beric conceded. "Though his capabilities suggest something more... martial... than mere political espionage."

Lord Kaeven nodded gravely. "We'll watch him closely. My Lightweavers can establish monitoring formations around his quarters, subtle ones that won't be detected by anyone below Rank 3."

"I would appreciate that," Beric said. "Lady Laelyn has developed... a certain attachment to the boy. It clouds her judgment where he's concerned."

A knowing smile touched Lord Kaeven's lips. "Ah, the passions of youth. I remember her grandmother at that age. Equally headstrong, equally drawn to the inappropriate."

The comparison sent a chill through Beric. "All the more reason for vigilance."

"Indeed." Lord Kaeven placed a hand on Beric's shoulder. "Rest easy, old friend. Within these walls, she is as safe as she can be outside the Spire itself. Tomorrow, my Lightweavers will escort you the remainder of the way to the Academy. Once there, she'll be under the direct protection of the Order's Elders."

Beric nodded, allowing himself to acknowledge the bone-deep weariness that had accumulated through the night's events.

Safe. For now, at least, they were safe.

Yet as he glanced back at the road they had traveled, he couldn't shake the feeling that their journey's dangers were far from over.

Somewhere out there, assassins still plotted.

A mysterious Skybound still moved with unknown purpose.

And within their very group, a young man with secrets walked closely beside the woman Beric had sworn to protect.

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