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The Blinding Knife(280)

By:Brent Weeks


They sat on the deck for a long time in companionable silence. Gavin dismissed his exhausted Blackguards. The men who were guarding him now had helped take the fort on Ruic Head and after fighting for hours had then assisted the rescue efforts all day; they deserved the rest. From time to time, men would come up to the Prism and congratulate him. Some even congratulated Kip. Kip Godslayer, one called him. Kip didn’t appreciate it. He was Godslayer only in the most technical sense. He’d delivered the final blow only because he’d been the least threat, only because he’d been beneath notice.

Gavin simply said, “You do what you have to do, Kip. Let people call you what they will. You can’t change it. People want heroes, and if every once in a while that title sticks to you, just make sure you don’t believe in it too much yourself.” He shook his head, as if the words weren’t coming out right. “You were brave today, Kip. You lived up to the highest ideals of the Blackguard, and I’m proud of you.” He handed Kip the mulled wine.

Kip grimaced, taking it. It hadn’t been him. It had been the knife. He still hadn’t told his father about the knife. He needed to. He’d been trying to work up to it all afternoon.

Karris came up to their brazier. She sat beside Gavin and put her hand on his thigh. She smiled over at Kip. “Hey there, Godslayer,” she said. She was teasing, but she meant it in a good way. Somehow, when she said it, it seemed nice. Kip mumbled evasions below his breath.

“I really need to teach you to knife fight, though,” she said. “Sloppy technique, sloppy.” Again, kidding. But Kip grinned. It was the kind of ribbing that told him she wanted to spend more time with him in the future. It was about the nicest thing he could ask for.

“I’m exhausted,” she said to Gavin. “I’m going to go below. You going to be an hour or so?”

“Andross asked to speak with me, and the generals always have business. We have to see if we can keep these bane from recurring,” Gavin said glumly. “At least an hour.”

“I’m proud of you,” she said. “For this.”

Gavin seemed to know what she was talking about, but Kip didn’t. For sitting at a brazier with Kip?

“Someone told me something about love once,” Gavin said. “Still sounds silly to me, but I’m giving it a shot.” He was teasing.

Karris’s smile lit the deck. “I love you,” she said, her voice warmer and softer than Kip had ever heard it. She had it bad.

“Is there an action wedded to that choice?” Gavin asked.

“I’m going to go below and sleep for a while,” she said. “But, uh, wake me.” She didn’t try very hard to hide her wink, and Kip blushed.

“Mmm,” Gavin said appreciatively as she got up and left. He watched her go. “Kip,” he said. “If you ever find a woman like that… don’t be an idiot like your father.”

“Yes, sir.” Kip grinned. “So… what happens now?”

“You mean with the satrapies?”

Kip nodded.

“We’ve lost two satrapies. Tyrea didn’t matter to the other satrapies, but Atash?” He shook his head. “I’m afraid we were so eager to avoid war, we’ve made it all but certain.”

He said “we.” Even though Kip knew his father had fought for all he was worth to get the Chromeria to move before it was too late, he still shared responsibility for the failure. His father, he decided again, was a great man.

Kip hadn’t had much time to think today, but he’d had enough. The dagger was important, as in Important. It had sucked the luxin right out of that giant. Kip should have told his father about the knife immediately. But volunteering to have his father mad at him seemed impossible.

Every time, just when things are going well, you open your big mouth, Kip.

But at least usually it was an accident. This time he had to do it on purpose.

He was within a breath—or maybe a minute or two—of speaking when a greasy voice said, “Sirs?” Grinwoody. “Luxlord Guile awaits your pleasure. He heard you were topside and climbed up, with considerable effort to his person.”

“Then where is he?” Kip asked. Oops. Kip the Lip. Maybe it was all this Kip the Godslayer talk. Or maybe it was the mulled wine warming him.

“On the stern castle, sirs. He only demanded the Lord Prism’s presence, however.”

“You can come if you want to, Kip. But it won’t be pleasant,” Gavin said. “Father and I have some hard words to exchange.”

Grinwoody’s mouth thinned to a tight line, but he said nothing.