Blood Solace (Blood Grace Book 2)

by Vela Roth

  “Very well.” Father did not sound happy, but his aura shone with unmistakable pride. “We have always raised you to make your own decisions. You are the best judge of how to proceed with your own Grace. We will see what occurs tomorrow, and then we will discuss your plan.”

  “Thank you, Father.”

  “We will not wait too long, however,” Mother decreed. If Father was a granite mountain, she was the inexorable current of the sea. “In the meantime, you will accept the Drink from us. I will not have my son scrounge among the animals. You need our blood to sustain you, if you are to endure.”

  He knew she was right. He reminded himself of Lyros’s advice. The Craving was not a test, merely a fact. Lio needed the strength his parents could provide.

  So he could be strong for Cassia.

  No sense in protesting in the name of his pride. There was too much at stake for him to refuse. And refusing their gifts was no way to show his gratitude to those who had given him life.

  His mother was suddenly standing before him. Her arms came around him, and she held him to her, planting a kiss on the top of his head. In her mortal life, she had lost seven children before him and fought tooth and nail for his survival, all so she could hold one thriving child in her arms at last. After all these years as a Hesperine and even Zoe’s arrival, there were still times when she needed to hold Lio to push away old griefs. He counted himself fortunate he could ease her pain.

  Lio returned her embrace. “I’m all right, Mother. You needn’t worry about me now.”

  “I shall worry as long as your Grace needs air to survive.” She rested her hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eye. “But you are my son and Apollon’s. You will not break, either.”

  EVE

  of the

  AUTUMN EQUINOX

  A lady always listens carefully.

  —Solia’s instructions to Cassia

  A Lady's Weapons

  Cassia always knew an effective weapon when she found it. At times it was a piece of information she delivered to the right ears at the right moment. Often it was information her handmaiden brought to her, for Perita was an ally, and Cassia had learned to treasure her few allies even more than weapons.

  Tonight and every night, her best weapons against the king were his own words, the ones he spoke behind the closed doors of his solar. No one was privy to all the secrets the king discussed in this chamber. Except Cassia, the one person alive who had breached his bastion.

  Cassia listened to the fire crackling in the king’s hearth and waited to hear how he would betray himself this time. Flames licked at the delicate linen that shielded her body, and all she felt was the warm tickle that had become familiar after many such vigils here at the back of the enormous fireplace.

  She had come to appreciate the bitter scent of the flametongue oil that gave her garments their protective power. Her eyes no longer watered as she breathed through the treated veil.

  Cassia stood without fear a few paces away from the king and knew that if he looked into his hearth, he would see only fire. She would disappear among the flames like a spirit, for flametongue was a thing of fire, and like concealed like.

  Even the mage now in conference with the king looked past her every time his gaze darted about the room. But she could watch the men from behind her shield of fire and the armor of her sheer veil.

  King Lucis of Tenebra sat in his heavy oak chair behind his desk. The sight had not changed all Cassia’s life, except his blond hair and beard had gone white over the years, and in addition to the burn scar that had always blemished his jaw, he now bore many more marks of battle. He was a squarely built, warlike figure unsoftened by his royal finery, a creature that had sprung from the bestiary to don a crown. With sky-blue eyes that saw everything, he watched the young man on the other side of the desk.

  The apprentice mage stood very still, as if he feared any movement might provoke the predator to pounce. A handful of the royal guards attended their king, who would gladly gobble them up if they would serve him better dead than alive. One such man-at-arms drew near and knelt before the fire. Cassia stood calmly while he stoked the flames. The men in the solar must be feeling the predawn cold. Summer, such as it was, had come to an end in the kingdom of Tenebra.

  Tonight was the night when darkness and light were of equal length. The Autumn Equinox.

  The night when the Hesperines returned to the north.

  They were still beyond her reach. But she knew they were there. He was there.

  Lio.

  “My masters in Cordium still await your answer, Basileus, if you will allow me to remind you.”

  Cassia had to listen closely to catch all the mage’s words. She had never heard him speak in his entire time as apprentice to Dalos. The young man’s continued service under the new royal mage had proved him to be soft-spoken and quiescent. This whelp couldn’t be older than sixteen and had less confidence than Cassia’s half brother of thirteen—and Prince Caelum was not known for his presence.

  The young mage was a strange agent indeed for the Order of Anthros to employ. It was apparent, however, he had come from Cordium and had known all along Amachos was really Dalos. The apprentice was now all the Order had left to work with in Tenebra, since Honored Master Dalos, when challenging the protective magic of seven Hesperines, had succeeded in killing himself on his own spell. Perhaps the Order found the youth useful for the same reason the king tolerated him—he was unambitious.

  “What answer is that?” The king’s voice drove into every corner of the room.

  “Regarding the land grant, Basileus,” the mage murmured. “The frozen bit of ground in the north that is of no benefit to you. My masters bid me remind you we would put a small temple there, from which to guard against Hesperine incursions.”

  “And I have already told them Free Lord Galanthian will not sell the land.”

  “Of course, Basileus, I understand your dilemma. My masters have requested I respectfully ask if you have increased your monetary offer?”

  “He will not sell it, because he no longer owns it. He donated it to the Tenebran mages of Kyria.”

  During all the long hours Cassia spent here, moments like these were the ones she awaited. These incremental victories were what got her back on her feet every time the sun rose again. She stood back and watched the havoc she had wrought.

  “He—what? Begging your pardon, Basileus?”

  “It appears,” the king said, his words clipped and controlled, “the land is optimal for growing rimelace, a rare medicinal herb the mages of Kyria prize. When this came to Lord Galanthian’s attention, he donated every last acre, and they took one of his spare daughters off his hands in return.”

  Cassia smiled and listened to the king explain himself. Lucis never had to explain himself.

  “What would your masters have me do?” he demanded. “Would they have a warrior lower himself to robbing land from a lot of chanting, flower-growing old maids?”

  The firelight gleamed on the young mage’s sweaty face. “I am only a messenger and must faithfully relate my masters’ questions, Basileus. I am to—forgive me, Basileus—convey their heartfelt disappointment that you have not upheld the agreement you made with Honored Master Dalos, may he live forever in Anthros’s exalted company.”

  The king slammed his hand onto the desk. The mage jolted where he stood. Only Cassia remained still, for she had endured much worse surprises. Her days of quivering before the threat of that hand were over.

  “I do not wish to hear the name Dalos ever again,” the king breathed.

  The mage’s reply was almost a whisper. “Of course, Basileus.”

  “You are desperate to have something to show for your efforts by the time your superiors arrive tonight. It is a vain attempt. When you see your masters, tell them that if the first mage they sent me had succeeded in disposing of the Council of Free Lords as they promised, I would have delivered the land they requested from among the holdings that wou
ld have reverted to the crown. But since that mage was too incompetent to withstand a few Hesperines, I must make do with legality, and they must make do with what I can spare them. They will have no more land grants from me until they uphold their end of the bargain and provide me with mages who will strengthen the authority of the crown against the nobility.”

  “Of course, Basileus. I am pleased to tell you the party of mages arriving from Cordium tonight are equal to any challenge that awaits them here in Tenebra. They are ready and able to fill the offices you have set aside for them.”

  “They will go to Ostium and Littora.”

  The apprentice’s swallow was audible. “Basileus, what explanation might I offer them for this when I welcome them to Tenebra tonight? They will wish me to remind you that you agreed to appoint them to key positions in the Temples of Anthros here at Solorum and in the south at Namenti.”

  “The plan has changed.”

  Cassia drew a breath of smoke and flametongue that did not choke her and let it out with a silent sigh of relief.

  Tenebran sentiment against the Cordian Orders remained volatile enough to stay the king from appointing foreign religious leaders to his people’s most influential temples. And the king’s own sentiment against the mages stayed his hand still more. His subjects saw a fine line between reform and sacrilege, he between making use of his allies and allowing them to make use of him. Thus far he could do no more than hand-place select Cordian mages in the noble households that were most loyal to the crown—or most afraid of the one who wore it.

  The Cordian Mage Orders still could not get the firm foothold in Tenebra they required. The king still could not give them a war with the Hesperines.

  Cassia was holding her ground.

  There came a knock. The king gestured in the direction of the guards who manned the door, and Cassia heard it swing open.

  “My King,” said one of the men-at-arms who kept watch in the antechamber without. “Free Lord Titus would like an audience with Your Majesty.”

  The king beckoned with a hand by way of agreement. “Leave me,” he barked at the apprentice. “Go back to your duties with my new Tenebran royal mage. If you make yourself useful when your colleagues from Cordium get here, perhaps you can prove to them you are more than a dead man’s inadequate lackey.”

  Whether the mage’s silence was insulted protest or mournful agreement, Cassia could not tell. As he folded his hands inside his sleeves, his fingers tangled in the fabric. He gave a hasty nod of respect before backing away from the desk.

  When he was gone, someone else paced through the door and across the carpets in a long, fluid tread Cassia recognized.

  “Titus,” Lucis greeted. Nearly expressionless. Utterly in control.

  “Your Majesty.” The Free Lord of Segetia came into view. Tonight he had garbed his tall, fit figure in golden-brown velvet and oiled his chestnut hair, which was turning silver. He swept a bow. “Staying warm, I trust.”

  Lucis acknowledged Lord Titus’s pleasantries with a nod.

  Lord Titus gave the king a rueful smile. “I thought to provide you some relief from endless conferences with men of the spell. I understand that as soon as the final summer tournament was over today, the new royal mage occupied you with preparations for the autumnal festivities tomorrow. Honored Master Orumos the Younger follows in the footsteps of the Elder, eh? The meeting-point of Summer and Autumn when Anthros hands the season to his lady wife Kyria may be one of our greatest holidays, but no fighting man should have to endure that many hours of magical bibble-babble.”

  “Tiresome indeed.”

  That Lucis tolerated Lord Titus’s preference for graciousness over directness, much less agreed with anything he said, was testament to the free lord’s position in the king’s good graces, as Cassia had often observed.

  “I must tell you…” Lord Titus’s smile widened. “My son is looking forward to the Greeting with great anticipation.”

  “Is he.”

  “Who doesn’t, at his age? Autumn Equinox is a fine time to be a young man.” Lord Titus laughed. “Flavian has made no secret of his goal, as you’ve seen, and I could not imagine a finer object for his attentions. Lady Cassia’s grace and virtue are a great compliment to you and a true reflection of your boundless generosity to her.”

  Cassia’s lip curled. Oh yes, what a model daughter she was, and all to reflect the glory of the man who had sired her, of course. How generous of the king to use her mother as a concubine and then bother to let the resulting girl-child live. Especially after letting her mother die in an assassin’s fire spell meant for him, mere hours after their daughter’s birth. His kindness and tender care had absolutely made Cassia what she was.

  A footstep took Lord Titus nearer the king. “It will come as no surprise my son intends to ask your daughter for the Greeting dance.”

  Indeed, Flavian’s request came as no surprise to Cassia. Nor would the king’s answer. Cassia did not allow the king or his courtiers to take her by surprise.

  There were only two possible ways in which Lucis would respond. Any daughter of his was to be courted, marketed, bartered. But never surrendered. Tomorrow was the day Flavian’s hopes would finally be dashed—or the day he surrendered himself to the king for the promise of Cassia’s hand. Either way, the game would come to an end.

  And the next one would begin. The moment was finally at hand. She would discover which game it was to be.

  Cassia had warned Flavian. How she wished he had understood her words for what they were.

  Lucis was silent for a moment. “You know the extent of your value to me, Titus. You know the limits of the girl’s value as well. I suspect we can come to an arrangement.”

  “Indeed, I am proud of how my son has made himself an asset to you. Your daughter would be a great honor upon my house, should you choose to bestow her.”

  “Despite her bastardy, her blood is to be coveted for your son’s sons. Do not think that comes without a price.”

  “My son is glad to serve you with all his ability and devotion,” Lord Titus emphasized again.

  It would have been more accurate to call him a dog, one who leapt at the king’s whistle. Men paid all sorts of prices for the king’s favor to keep his eye from their lands or their daughters. Lord Titus paid his son as a hostage to Lucis’s whims.

  What whim did the king have in mind now? He had jerked Flavian’s chain for so long. Would Lucis now yank him the other way or tighten the collar?

  “Your son has the opportunity to achieve many things under my banner,” Lucis said. “My daughter can be one of those achievements.”

  “What more would you have him do to prove himself worthy?”

  “He need not do anything. I ask only that you put your skill with words to work for me. A few well-placed remarks from you, and your son shall have his dance with my daughter on the morrow. Call it your wedding gift to him.”

  Cassia waited. This might be another of Lucis’s ploys. The word wedding seldom meant anything, coming from him, and when it did…it was just as likely to be a threat as a promise.

  What he had done to Solia was proof of that. Cassia carried her grief for her sister every moment as a reminder.

  “How can I serve you, My King?” Lord Titus asked.

  “You are well aware of the tenuous situation regarding the Hesperines.”

  Cassia held her breath.

  “Certainly, Your Majesty. It was the next subject I intended to broach tonight. I would of course be honored to serve you once more at the negotiation table, as I did at the last Summit. I could not be more pleased to know you have made your decision.”

  “I have.”

  “What excellent news, that your agents are at the northern border even now, lighting the beacon at Frigorum to signal our willingness to treat with the Hesperines.”

  “They are not.”

  “Ah, of course. The Hesperines have only just returned to Orthros tonight. At a later date then, when Your Maj
esty deems it opportune. The Spring Equinox is months away. There is ample time yet to arrange the Summit well before the new year arrives and the Oath must be sworn.”

  “There will be no Summit.”

  Oh, but there would. Cassia would see to that. That was no game. It was her war.

  She waited to hear how well Lord Titus would advance her cause. He would never know it, but he was one of her best mouthpieces.

  After a pause, the free lord broke the silence. “As your adviser on diplomatic matters, who is eager only to promote the safety and prosperity of Your Majesty’s domain, might I be permitted to offer my thoughts on the matter?”

  The groan of the door interrupted Lord Titus. Lord Hadrian marched into the room. Reinforcements for Cassia. The Free Lord of Hadria was the only man in Tenebra who had proved his loyalty so thoroughly he could speak bluntly to the king without ending up at the gallows. He was also the only man willing to speak the truth, whether it benefited him or not.

  “Titus will tell you this,” came Lord Hadrian’s gravelly voice. “The free lords will sleep with their swords in one hand and charms of Anthros’ fire in the other until we’ve brought the monsters here for another meeting and made right with them. And he’ll be correct.”

  “How magnanimous of you to agree with me, Hadrian. Pray tell, what is the occasion?”

  Lord Hadrian halted before the desk, short and strong beside Lord Titus’s taller, elegant figure. But the graying warrior’s presence commanded the room as surely as he commanded the king’s armies. “War with something our swords are no use against would be an occasion indeed, Titus, and I hope you’ll cease aiming yours at me, should such a battle come.”

  “I will always fight for the safety of Tenebra, wherever else I may take aim.”

  “Is that enough for you, My King?” Lord Hadrian asked. “Both sides of our feud are agreed. His ancestors and mine sent each other to their graves, but they’d all prefer to stay there rather than have Hesperines ravage their corpses. A second attempt at a truce with the heretics is the only way to clean up after the debacle that Cordian made of our Summit.”