Innkeeper Chronicles 3.5: Sweep of the Blade

by Ilona Andrews

  bridal crown. It was a great honor, appropriate to the bride of the second

  son of the Marshal of House Ervan.

  A hot pain pinched her chest. It’s in the past, she told herself. It is over

  and done with. Let it go.

  Careful footsteps approached from behind, trying to sneak up on her.

  She hid a smile.

  “Greetings, Lord Soren.”

  The footsteps stopped, then resumed, and Lord Soren halted next to her.

  Vampires aged like their castles. Over time, they grew bigger and

  sturdier, as if the time itself reinforced them. Lord Soren was the perfect

  example of a middle-aged vampire: wide in the shoulders, muscled like

  a grizzled tiger, with a spectacular mane of dark brown hair and a short

  but thick beard, both touched with grey. His syn-armor, midnight black,

  touched with red marks denoting his rank of Knight Sergeant and the

  small round crest of House Krahr, fit him to perfection and bore a few

  scars here and there, much like Lord Soren himself. A testament to a life

  spent in battle. He looked like a humanoid tank.

  He was also Arland’s uncle.

  Lord Soren wasn’t complicated. His worldview came down to three

  things: honor, tradition, and family. He dedicated his life to upholding all

  three, and they were never in conflict. She’d worked hard to get him to

  like her, and he viewed her favorably, but how far exactly his good will

  extended remained to be seen.

  He pondered Helen, who had dropped her bag and was dipping her

  fingers into the stream. “The child loves the water.”

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  “There is little water on Karhari, my lord.” There was nothing on Karhari

  except miles of dry hard dirt, and it withered those sent there until they

  hardened and dried as well.

  “It’s a new experience for her.”

  “It is.”

  They watched her in comfortable silence.

  “It’s good you joined us,” he said.

  She hoped he was right.

  “Perhaps, with your presence, my nephew will stay put for longer than

  five minutes before running off on another fool’s errand across half of

  the Galaxy.”

  The arrival deck was slowly filling up with people waiting to go

  planetside.

  If he does, I’ll run off with him. “I understand Lady Ilemina is in

  residence?”

  “She is.”

  Sooner or later she would have to meet Arland’s mother. It wouldn’t be

  a pleasant meeting.

  “Has my nephew told you why I had to come to the inn to fetch him?”

  Lord Soren asked.

  “No.”

  “What do you know of House Serak?”

  She racked her memory. “One of the larger Houses. They control most of

  their planet, which is also named Serak, if I recall correctly. They’ve never

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  produced a Warlord, but they did come close twice in the past five

  centuries. After suffering defeat in the Seven Star War, their influence

  diminished, but they’re still formidable. They’re also hungry to regain

  what they’ve lost and that makes them dangerous.”

  Lord Soren nodded in approval. “And their sworn enemy?”

  It took her a second. “House Kozor. A slightly smaller House, but a great

  deal more aggressive. They control the second habitable planet in the

  Serak system.”

  “They’ve decided to bury the bones of their fallen,” he said.

  Interesting. “An alliance?”

  “A wedding.”

  Maud blinked. “Even so?”

  “Yes. The son of the Serak Preceptor will marry the daughter of the Kozor

  Archchaplain. They require a neutral location in which the ceremony can

  be performed.”

  “Naturally.” It was a sword-edge wedding. Nobody trusted anyone, and

  everyone was waiting for an ambush. “Did House Krahr offer them such

  a haven?”

  “There was no way to reasonably refuse,” Lord Soren said. “We

  dominate the quadrant and Serak is only one jump away from us. The

  wedding is in eight days. It would’ve been more appropriate for Arland

  to have been on the planet to assist with preparations, but since he was

  otherwise occupied, we’ll be arriving about the same time as the

  wedding guests.”

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t there another vampire-controlled star

  system, closer than this one to the Serak system?”

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  “There is.”

  Something was off about this wedding. “One wonders why two Houses

  with such a mutual lack of trust wish to be bound.”

  “Supposedly to end their conflict and form a pact.”

  “If they are unable to come together for even the most joyous of

  occasions, their alliance is doomed from the start. There must be

  willingness from both Houses for the marriage to hold.”

  Lord Soren studied her.

  “How large a wedding party are you expecting, my lord?”

  “One hundred guests from each side.”

  “And they will arrive armed?”

  “They will.”

  House Krahr could field tens of thousands of troops. Two hundred

  vampires, no matter how elite, shouldn’t have posed a threat. So why

  did this suddenly make her uneasy?

  The door in the far wall slid open and Arland strode through it. She saw

  his handsome face, framed with a mane of blond hair. He was incredible.

  His blue eyes found her. He grinned. Her heart skipped a beat.

  Damn it.

  Arland zeroed in on them and broke into a march. He was a large

  muscular man, and the black syn-armor and red cloak hanging from his

  shoulders made him seem huge. He moved like a large predatory cat,

  deliberately, smoothly, the massive blood mace at his waist a reminder

  of his rank. He was the Marshal of House Krahr, the military leader of his

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  clan. He’d fought for that place and won. And his mother was the head

  of the House, the Preceptor.

  Arland was a perfect embodiment of everything a vampire lord should

  be. He was smart, powerful, fearless, and loyal. It took her exactly two

  seconds to deduce that he was his uncle’s pride and joy. He was likely his

  mother’s pride and joy, too.

  “Lord Soren,” she murmured. “Lady Ilemina must be stressed by these

  preparations. Perhaps it would be wiser not to mention Lord Arland’s

  proposal.” And her refusal of it.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” the Knight Sergeant said.

  She let out a small breath of relief.

  “Unfortunately, my nephew took it upon himself to inform his mother

  already.”

  What? She kept her voice calm. “He did?”

  “Oh yes,” Lord Soren said, his face looking like he’d just bitten into a

  lemon. “He sent the message via an emergency jump-drone, two days

  before we left the planet, announcing that he would be bringing a bride

  and to make sure adequate accommodations were prepared.”

  Damn it, Arland. “He didn’t ask her blessing?”

  “No. I believe he commanded the household to make themselves

  ‘presentable.’”

  Because his mother would never find that offensive. Maud closed her

  eyes for a tiny moment.

  �
��Then he sent a second message, stating that you turned him down, but

  you would be joining him anyway.”

  16

  Arland had accelerated. He was looking at her as if she was the lone light

  in a dark room.

  “Did his mother reply?”

  “Yes.”

  Maud steeled herself. “What did she say?”

  “Just five words,” Lord Soren said. “Can’t wait to meet her.”

  Great. Just great.

  Soren reached over and awkwardly patted her arm. “It could be worse.”

  She couldn’t for the life of her to see how.

  Arland reached them. “Lady Maud.”

  His voice sent a soft rumble through her. She hated that. It was

  weakness, but she had no idea how to compensate for it. She wished she

  could be immune.

  “Lord Arland.”

  Lord Soren discreetly stepped away and strolled closer to the arch of the

  summoning gate. Helen abandoned the fish and the water and brought

  her bag over. Arland held out his hands, but Helen stayed by Maud’s side.

  “No hug?” he asked.

  “Mommy said to be polite.”

  “There are certain appearances that must be observed, my lord,” Maud

  said.

  “I never cared much for appearances,” he said. His eyes were soft and

  warm. Inviting.

  17

  She needed to get her head examined.

  “Unfortunately, some of us are not in the position to not care.”

  The summoning gate turned crimson. Lord Soren stepped into the light

  and vanished.

  “My lady.” Arland indicated the gate with his hand.

  He reached for her bag, but she shouldered it out of his reach. They

  walked toward the gate.

  “What’s bothering you?” he asked quietly.

  “You told your mother.”

  “Of course, I did. You’re not some shameful secret I’m going to hide.”

  “No, I’m a disgraced exile who had the audacity to turn down a proposal

  from the most beloved son of House Krahr.”

  He considered it. “Not the most beloved. My cousin is much more

  adorable than me. He is two and his hair is curly.”

  “Lord Arland…”

  His eyes sparked with humor. “You could always remedy it and say yes.”

  “No.”

  Helen was looking at them. Maud realized they were standing in front of

  the summoning gate and bickering.

  “You remember this?” Arland asked her.

  Helen nodded and eyed the gate. “It makes my tummy sick.”

  “Do you want to hold my hand?” Maud asked.

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  “We have to do it quick, like charging a castle.” Arland reached out,

  swung Helen onto his shoulders, and roared. Helen roared with him.

  They ducked through the gate and vanished.

  “Arland!” Maud snapped.

  They were gone.

  She was on her own on the arrival deck with half of Arland’s crew gaping

  at her. She clenched her teeth and walked into the crimson glow.

  19

  Chapter 2 Part 1

  January

  12,

  2018 by Ilona

  The crimson glow of the summoning gate died behind Maud. She

  blinked, fighting the vertigo, and walked away from it on autopilot, to

  keep from blocking other arrivals.

  To the right, about twenty-five yards away, Arland stopped to speak to

  three vampires. He’d taken Helen off his shoulders – thank you, Universe

  – and she gaped at the spaceport.

  Maud looked around and stopped to gape, too. She stood in a cavernous

  rectangular chamber. Daylight flooded it through long, narrow

  rectangular windows, cut in the grey stone walls twenty feet above. She

  turned slowly, trying to take it all in.

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  To her left, the summoning gate glowed, about to release another

  traveler into the spaceport. To her right, small craft, sleek fighters and a

  few light civilian vessels, perched on the floor, and beyond them

  enormous hangar doors stood wide open, filled with blue sky. Above the

  hanger doors, a stone relief depicted a snarling krahr. The massive

  predator, its wide head a cross between a bear and a tiger, roared at the

  visitors, its maw gaping open, its sabretooth fangs a fatal promise. A thin

  crack down the krahr’s left side had chipped a bit of stone fur from its

  jaw. Nobody had fixed it.

  It hit her. House Krahr was an old House.

  Melizard’s House, House Ervan, was much younger. Noceen was a

  prosperous planet, with a gentle climate, colonized only two hundred

  years ago, and House Ervan had emerged as one of the prominent

  vampire clans due mostly to sheer luck. They had arrived to the planet

  to colonize it and the land they’d claimed contained rich mineral

  deposits. Their wealth bought them weapons, equipment, and

  infrastructure. Everything on Noceen had been of the highest quality,

  modern and slick, especially the spaceport, where the traditional

  vampire stone was a veneer and the wood had been artificially

  distressed. She’d thought it rather grand when she first saw it. But this…

  this was the real thing.

  All vampire spaceports were castles. Easily defended to allow for

  evacuation to orbit, easily contained if a threat were to arrive via the

  summoning gate. The spaceport of House Krahr had been built hundreds

  of years ago. The weathered stones under her feet, the massive wooden

  beams above, darkened by time, the thick stone walls, all of it emanated

  age. This was a stronghold, raised when strongholds had a purpose. Here

  and there modernization showed, but its touch was subtle and light:

  upgraded windows of transparent plasti-steel, sensors high in the walls,

  and the massive blast-proof hangar gates. But the stronghold itself

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  breathed an overwhelming sense of ancientness. It spoke to the visitors

  without uttering a word.

  We have built this. It endured for centuries. Countless generations of us

  walked across its threshold and still we have it, for no one is strong

  enough to take it away from us.

  It wasn’t about money. It was a statement of power, harsh and brutal. It

  demanded respect, especially from a vampire, to whom tradition and

  family meant everything. It commanded awe and took it as its due.

  She was so in over her head, it wasn’t even funny.

  Arland strode to her, Helen at his side. “My lady.”

  Clipped, formal words. The easy familiarity she’d become accustomed to

  was gone. She had expected as much.

  “My lord.”

  “I must apologize. There is a matter requiring my urgent attention.” He

  leaned closer to her. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

  “As you wish, my lord.”

  “I mean it,” he said. “Ten minutes.”

  He seemed genuinely worried she would disappear. “Helen and I will

  wait for you.”

  He nodded and marched away. The three vampire knights fell in behind

  him.

  To the right, two vampire women followed him with their gazes. Both

  wore armor with the crest of House Kozor, a horned beast on red. One

  was lean and tall, with a waterfall of chestnut hair framed by elaborate

  braids. The othe
r, curvier, her armor more ornate, left her corn-silk blond

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  mane free. It fell all the way to her butt in shiny waves, and by the way

  she tossed her head, she was quite proud of it.

  Interesting. “Would you like to see the shuttles?”

  “Yes,” Helen said.

  “Let’s go look at them.”

  They drifted closer to the shiny shuttles and to the two vampire women.

  Helen went to look at the elegant fighter, painted pure white, and Maud

  watched her, keeping the two women on the very edge of her vision.

  “… not the time to satiate your appetites,” the taller woman said.

  Maud’s implant remained silent, but she understood regardless.

  Ancestor Vampiric. It was an older language, with dozens of regional

  dialects and variation. A lot of vampires could barely understand it,

  especially if it was spoken by a vampire from a different homeworld.

  Speech implants failed to interpret it, and outsiders didn’t speak it, but

  then she wasn’t an outsider. A lot of the great epics had been written in

  Ancestor Vampiric, and reciting them had been a point of pride for

  members of House Ervan. She had tried so hard to be the best wife for

  Melizard. She was fluent in a dozen dialects and could understand others

  easily enough.

  “You have to admit, he’s a prime specimen,” the blonde said.

  “He’s preoccupied with his human toy. That’s her over there.”

  “Toys can be broken,” the blonde said.

  Anytime you want to try.

  “That is a beautiful child,” the blonde said.

  “A halfer,” the brunette sneered.

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  “Still, a cute little mongrel. Do you think she’s his?”

  “No. The woman is an exile from some no-name House. One of the

  nouveau riche from the frontier. She was married to their marshal’s son.

  He betrayed his House.”

  “Interesting,” the blonde stretched the word.

  “Apparently Arland found her on Karhari.”

  “The Marshal gets around.” The blonde smiled. “You should let me play

  with him. It really is a shame to lose—”

  “Be silent,” the chestnut snapped.

  “Fine,” the blonde sighed.

  “I mean it. Mind your tongue, Seveline. Too many people have done too

  much work for you to ruin it with your blabbering. The future of our