Janrae Frank - [Lycan Blood 02] - Fireborn Law

by Fireborn Law [lit]

  "It's hard when you lose the young ones, Kady." Aisha put an Eccles cake on a small plate and extended that to her.

  Kady set her claret on the table and accepted the plate. She took a bite and the sweet, sugary treat made her smile. "That's good."

  "Isbeth is an excellent baker. Her lying in time is approaching, so Domina will be taking over for a few weeks. Dommy is good, but not as good with the sweets as Isbeth."

  Kady nodded, trying to look interested. Her father owned three nibari, but Kady had never felt entirely comfortable with them.

  "Is there anything I can do to help? Cahira and I we've never gotten along, but I trust her more than I do Baroucha."

  "Beds. Furniture is the biggest problem right now."

  "How so?"

  "We've turned the storeroom into an infirmary, but we've no beds yet. The furniture maker says he can't have more ready for at least a week."

  Aisha sipped her claret with a considering look. "We have a lot of spare beds. Would Cahira accept them if I sent them to her?"

  "I'm sure she would. She told me she would be grateful for any help she could get right now."

  "How many?"

  "Six for the infirmary. Singles, not doubles. It's easier to work on someone when you don't have to lean across."

  "I will have them delivered before nightfall. Is there anything else? Something for yourself?"

  "I'm sleeping on a cot."

  "So, seven beds. One of them a nice big one?"

  "I'd like that."

  "Tell Cahira I want to help that I want to put the past behind us?"

  Kady knew there had to be an ulterior motive, and a gesture of friendship from the Chieftain's wife was not something that should be refused. If Cahira disagreed, Kady resolved to enlist Todd in convincing her.

  * * * *

  Two huge wagons loaded down with goods, each drawn by four stocky ponies, pulled up in front of the Scarlet Angel Mage Supply. A hunch-backed old mon drove the lead wagon, her long white hair tied into a tail at her neck; while another geezer drove the rear wagon. Both vehicles had four children perched precariously atop the stacks of chests and crates.

  The crone sprang from the lead wagon as sprightly as a child, glanced both ways and darted into the shop. "Hey, Luciano, where's your dad?"

  "Dyna!" Luciano came from behind the counter and hugged her. "Lemyari got him."

  "Sorry to hear about that."

  "Not as much as I was. He bit me three days later and informed me that spiritworkers taste bad. He hasn't been around since."

  "Well, they do."

  "You'd know about those things?"

  Dynanna snickered. "I got those supplies you wanted."

  Luciano shook his head, his expression turned unhappy. "Can't use them. I'm closing the store. Queen Tomyrilen routed the Sharani forces at Wolfbane Field. General Mardreth Dovane has retreated to Skeleton Creek to regroup."

  "You gonna run?"

  "No choice."

  Dynanna lowered her head, and rubbed her forefinger under her nose. "I got something that will help, but I want it back."

  She reached into her pocket and produced a small clear glass globe.

  "Is that a carrying globe?" Luciano's eyes saucered as he accepted it.

  "Yup, put the whole store in your pocket. Then head for Red Wolff. Yuwenghau are making a stand there. We're gonna protect the last descendant of Dawnhand."

  "Oh, My Lady. Thank you. Where shall I meet you?"

  "Wolffgard. I'll be there no later than the equinox. Open a store there and I'll find you."

  "I'll leave tonight."

  "Good mon. If the lycans contest your presence, just ask for Pandeena and tell her I sent you."

  "Which name shall I give her?"

  "Dyna. She knows all my faces."

  Dynanna stalked toward the door.

  "Wait, My Lady"

  She flicked her hair back as she turned to look at Luciano. "What?"

  "Several things actually. You told me to gather gossip and I have. Padruig Caimbeul has left Running Horse. He's in Wolffgard. Todd Sinclair for eighty years the sa'necari believed him slain at Kinsdale Wood he's alive and in Wolffgard. He has a grandson, Kynyr Maguire, possibly the greatest swordsmon the lycans have produced in over two hundred years." Luciano's eyes narrowed. "So the Butchering Serpent's cowardly myn shot him with poisoned arrows. They don't know yet if Maguire will survive."

  Dynanna's features went still. "Sinclair, Caimbeul, and the last descendant of Dawnhand all in Wolffgard at the same time. Hmmn." She sucked her left cheek in and thought for a moment. "Can Lokynen be far behind?"

  "The Battle-Master?"

  "Yeah, that one. He was Todd's first mentor. Small world." A cheeky grin spread across the Trickster's face. "Looks like I got me a new bag of trouble to play with and I'm going to make good use of it. Funsies!"

  She snapped her fingers and a tall staff appeared in her hands. She gave it to Luciano. "You're going to need this."

  Luciano's eyes saucered. "But that's that's Sunrise."

  "Yeah, I know. It has just been sitting in my hoard for the past five hundred years gathering dust. Take good care of it."

  "I thought the Obsidian Dragon had it"

  Dynanna chuckled. "The dragon came down with a bad case of hives and while he was busy scratching his itch I stole half his hoard. Last I heard, the old bugger was still scratching. His wings are in tatters and he's got a bad case of nervous exhaustion."

  Luciano burst out laughing and hugged the staff. "I'll take good care of it, My Lady."

  "I bet you will. Be sure to tell any of the Faithful you encounter on the way to Wolffgard that I'll be there soon and I'm opening my armories."

  Dynanna strode out to the wagons and gestured at the children riding on hers. "Bodi, I got a mission for you and Lilac."

  Bodi jumped down and ran over to her. "A mission! I got a mission."

  He paraded around her in small circles, grinning.

  Lilac gathered her skirts, climbed carefully to the ground, and joined them. She patted her pouches and smiled at the jingling coins. "What's the mission?"

  "Spies," Dynanna hissed. "And a delivery. I heard that a friend of yours is in Wolffgard. Todd Sinclair. He's gonna need the stuff in the orange chest."

  "Funsies!" Lilac squealed.

  "You gonna loan us a carry ball?" Bodi stopped parading and looked up at her.

  "Can't. I loaned my spare to Luciano. You'll have to carry it."

  Bodi wiggled his eyebrows. "It's heavy."

  Dynanna nodded. "Pieface, you get them to Wolffgard. Take Sugar Maple along to help carry it. Once the delivery is made, I want you and Sugar Maple back on the wagons, pronto."

  "Gotcha." Pieface snapped his fingers, his powers swirled around the four children in shades of red and rose. Then they all vanished.

  * * * *

  Kady settled into the chair by the bed, dipped a cloth into a basin of cool water, and bathed Kynyr's sweat-drenched face.

  Kynyr moaned. His eyes opened, staring out into dimly lit room. "Promised Kady I"

  "I'm here." She continued to dip the cloth into the water, squeeze it out, and then stroke his face with it. "Kynyr, I'm here."

  "Promised Kady I would" He clenched his eyes shut; a grimace tightened his features as his body spasmed. "Promised promised beat Cormic"

  She tilted and inclined her head, lips parted in concern. "Kynyr, look at me. I'm here. It's Kady."

  "I found her Leeny."

  "I'm not Leeny, I'm Kady. Please, Kynyr." Emotions rippled through Kady striking her heart like riffles in the stream fear, desperation, and despair making her voice tremble. "Please, Kynyr"

  "Leeny she's beautiful." His words broke off in another shuddering spasm.

  "Who's Leeny?"

  "His sister. Kathleen." Cahira had slipped into the room so quietly that Kady had not known she was there until she spoke. "Kynyr and Kathleen were very close as children. Even though she was older by two ye
ars, Kynyr was always fiercely protective of her. She was born with a cleft palate. It took me years to fix it."

  While she spoke, Cahira filled dosing glasses with poppy milk, Holadil, and Pandeena's elixir called Idyn Gold. "Leeny couldn't say certain words for many years. One of them was her name. The letter K gave her a lot of trouble. She could not say 'brother' properly either. Brother became Brubs and she still calls him that. Kathleen became Leeny for the same reason. Lift him up, Kady, so I can try to get the medicines into him."

  Kady moved from the chair to the side of the bed and cradled Kynyr, supporting his head.

  In fits and starts, Cahira filled Kynyr's mouth with the medicine and stroked his throat to make him swallow. To Kady, it seemed to take forever before Cahira finished and they eased him back down onto the bed.

  Kady sucked in a trembling breath and a tear came to her eye.

  Cahira noticed and squeezed Kady's shoulder. "The gods won't let him die, Kady. They know we need him. Todd's too old for another war. That's what we trained Kynyr for."

  "He" Kady swallowed. "He told me once that he wanted to be my champion. I laughed at him. I thought he was just having me on."

  "Kynyr would never do that."

  "I know that now. The night before he left for Hell's Widow, he rescued me from Cormic Parry and his friends. Kynyr promised to thrash Cormic as soon as he returned."

  "Go to bed, Kady."

  "I don't want to leave him."

  "He'll sleep until morning. You need your rest. Tomorrow is going to be a long day."

  "But, Cahira"

  "No buts. Go to bed."

  "Yes, mam."

  "One last thing, Kady. Tomorrow Pandeena and I will be warding all the minds in the household. We're dealing with sa'necari and it never hurts to be cautious."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  FUNERAL

  Heironim sat at his desk, drumming his fingers, his head propped on his other hand. His four remaining sa'necari lieutenants formed a half circle before the desk, sitting uneasily in their chairs. Hell's Widow was only half a day's ride from Red Wolf Valley. Dorjan and his units should have been back the next morning at the latest.

  "Where are they? They should have been back two days ago."

  Jondries, a spindleshanks of a mon, with a long, wispy beard on the tip of his pointed chin, shifted uneasily in his chair. His amaranthine eyes had just begun to lose their whites, pupils, and irises to the genetic alteration of the rites. "Could the bastard prince have taken a different way home?"

  Heironim smashed his fist on the desk. "No. Not with a wagon. Something has happened to them. Gather seven myn and meet me at the lightning struck tree at the edge of town."

  Once they had assembled, Heironim and his band set off at a good pace, not so fast that it would tire the horses, but steady enough that they would reach the site where Dorjan had been instructed to carry out his ambush while there was still enough light to see with.

  Crows circling above a stand of elms near the bend in the road, drew them to a body that had bloated in the heat and split the seams of its skin. Heironim rode close to it and extended his necromantic senses in a low level scan before dismounting. His eyes went distant, his body alert to all the sounds and psychic scents around him. The area was drenched in death and yet this was the only corpse he could sense.

  Heironim walked up and knelt beside the corpse. Maggots swam in the liquefying flesh that soaked the body's livery with rot. "It's one of ours. Where are the rest?"

  "Maybe the lycans carried them off?" Jondries suggested, his unguarded eyes glinting their true amaranthine colors.

  "No." Heironim shook his head, rising to his feet. "They would have burned the bodies here in the middle of the road. Not taken them home to burn them."

  As he walked into the middle of the road a bit of green glass caught his eye near an oak tree and he walked in that direction. He found three shattered bottles and one unbroken one with a Dragonsbreath label.

  Jondries reached for the bottle.

  "Don't touch it, back away."

  His aide withdrew, stepping into his own footprints.

  Heironim knelt and placed his hands in a clear spot to either side of the debris. His voice went hollow as he scanned it. "The wagon overturned. A lycan died. Three lay dying." He snapped out of his vision with a shriek. "Diviiiiiniiity! Bellocar protect me! Wilderkin divinity. It slaughtered them. There was a broad spectrum Jump. That's why there's nothing here."

  Jondries turned ashen. "Yuwenghau? Or one of the Nine?"

  Heironim sucked in a deep breath to steady himself and scanned again. "Yuwenghau. An extremely powerful one. I must get word to Malthus."

  "How?"

  "I'll think of something."

  * * * *

  Malthus rolled over on his side and watched his wife slipping her arms into the sleeves of a black dress. "Why black? I don't like you in black. It makes you look pale."

  "They're burying Eideard this afternoon. And I want to stop off and find out how Kynyr is doing before going on to the funeral."

  "He was just a guardsmon, Merissa. There's no reason"

  She spun around on him, her eyes blazing as tears slid down her cheeks. "Eideard was my friend. I knew him for eight years. Show some compassion, Malthus."

  "As you wish." He slid out of bed nude, still smelling of sex, and helped her lace her dress up. "I'll have the wagon hitched up and drive you there."

  "I would appreciate it."

  Malthus went to the closet and snatched a blue tunic and brown trousers out.

  Merissa's eyes widened. "Wear something black, for the gods' sake. Show respect."

  "I didn't know him well." Malthus threw the clothes on their bed and dug back into the closet, coming out with a black shirt, tunic, and pants. "Will this satisfy you?"

  "What's wrong with you? Every time I open my mouth, you snap at me."

  "You're exaggerating. If you don't wish me to stay, I'll leave."

  Merissa's face twisted up. "Oh, Malthus, don't say that. I love you. I'm just upset. I don't mean to take it out on you."

  He forced a smile and kissed her. "I am certain the past few days have been hard on you. The attack upon Kynyr and his companions has been hard on us all. You go on down and wait for me in the Great Hall. I'll get dressed and have the wagon readied."

  * * * *

  The shop sign said "closed," but black clad lycans were coming and going as Malthus drove up to the front. He set the break, tied the horses up, and walked around to Merissa. He lifted her down and they went inside.

  All of the cabinets and shelves had been draped in black until nothing showed that it was a shop. A large table had been moved into the center and piled with food. As the bitches entered, they placed more food on the table that they had brought. The taste of grief was in the air and Malthus inhaled it like the bouquet of fine wine. His only regret was that it was Eideard's funeral and not Kynyr's. He intended to find out whatever he could while he was here and then head for Hell's Widow at his first opportunity to talk to Heironim. Something had gone wrong with the ambush and he needed to find out just what it had been. The bastard prince should have been dead.

  There were eight cubs in the crowd, all solemn and quiet, sticking close to their mothers. They all wore black traditional robes. Malthus recognized three of them: Cooley, Rory, and Hamish. That Sinclair cub was, supposedly, older than Rory, but he was closer to Hamish in height. Compared to the other cubs, Cooley was of exceptionally small stature and, comparing him to them, piqued Malthus' curiosity.

  Cooley pulled at his robe, muttering, "I want my trousers back."

  "Shh!" Rory gave him a scowl and an elbow in the ribs. "It's a funeral."

  "I been to them before and I didn't have to wear this thing." He glanced around at the adults, all dressed as he was.

  "You sound like a damned city wolf. Stop it."

  "I am a city wolf."

  Malthus stared at Cooley, walked over, and squatted in front o
f him. "You're a city wolf? I thought you were from Three Stones."

  Cooley gulped, backed up, and fled for the stairs.

  "What did you do to frighten him?" Merissa disengaged herself from a group of elderly bitches and put her hand on his arm.

  "I don't know."

  "Well, come here. Some of the aunties want to meet you. The dogs are having a drink in the upstairs parlor. There's going to be a wake for Eideard at the Difficult Horse after the funeral. But it's dogs only. The bitches and cubs are coming back here."

  Malthus endured the fluttering attention of the elderly bitches as long as he could stand it, and was about to disengage himself and head upstairs to the parlor, when a tiny blonde bitch made her way through the crowd and stopped in front of him.

  "Merissa." She greeted his wife with a stiff nod.

  A tentative smile touched Merissa's lips. "Cahira, this is my husband, Malthus Estrobian. Malthus, I would like you to meet Cahira Sinclair, Kynyr's grandmother."

  "Pleased to meet you. Your grandson is a brave mon." Malthus took her hand, brought it to his lips, and attempted a discreet scan. A sting of power struck him across the face.

  Cahira scowled at him and jerked her hand back. "That's not polite."

  Merissa stared after her in shock. "Cahira is so odd."

  "I'm going to go sit with the dogs."

  Malthus went upstairs and glanced about. The loud talking made it easy to tell where the parlor lay and the smells from the kitchen established that it was next to the parlor. Therefore, the rooms where the wounded lay had to be to his left. Malthus walked past two doors and went into the third room.

  His lips curled in malevolent pleasure: he had gotten lucky with his first try. Pale-faced and ill, Kynyr lay either sleeping or unconscious Malthus could not tell from the doorway with the sheet turned back to his waist because of the summer heat. The windows were open to allow a breeze to cool the room. Malthus closed the door behind him and moved to the bedside. The hair had been shaved from Kynyr's chest and stomach, and the neat catgut stitches holding him together showed.

  Belly wound? Or something else?

  Malthus flicked the sheet back and gazed at the cross cut. They opened him up to take his organs why isn't he dead?