Night's Templar: A Vampire Queen Novel (Vampire Queen Series Book 13)

by Joey W. Hill

  Fortunately, the Fae wanted to change the subject. “In your story to Queen Rhoswen, it was Lord Reghan who saved you from the battlefield.”

  “Yes.”

  “What were your impressions of him? Did you spend much time in his company?”

  “No. Only that meeting and one other, both necessarily brief. He was…charismatic. He said little, but what he did, had great import. Even with that brief exposure, I had the impression of many good things. Honesty, compassion, tolerance, a sense of vision that extended far beyond the world in which he lived. It was clear he was a formidable leader, but there was something…tragic about him.”

  Uthe’s brow furrowed. Talking about it now, he’d remembered more than he expected, but then, Lord Reghan had been almost as unforgettable as the male across from him. “Queen Rhoswen looked at him as if he were the rising sun, but he struck me more like a sunset. All the dusk colors, the painting the sun leaves behind so that we long for its return.”

  Looking up, he saw Keldwyn staring at him with a mostly incomprehensible expression, but Uthe registered one thing in it. Pain.

  “You knew him.” He paused. Despite the absurdity of it, the jagged feeling in his chest was jealousy. Now he understood why the name had caught Keldwyn’s attention so effectively when Uthe met Rhoswen in the gardens. “You loved him.”

  “He was my best friend.” Keldwyn’s voice was carefully modulated, almost wooden. “Before Magwel, Rhoswen’s mother, talked the Unseelie monarch at the time into having him killed.”

  “So is that why you and she don’t get along?”

  Keldwyn shook his head. “During one of our civil wars, Rhoswen herself killed Magwel.”

  He hadn’t known that piece of the puzzle. Perhaps in deference to her sister, Lyssa had not shared that painful knowledge with the Council. Uthe thought of the Fae Queen’s expression, so cold and remote. Yet when he’d been on his knees to her, his head forced to her thigh because of the physical attack of the flashback, he’d felt the touch of her hand on his shoulder, an almost gentle reassurance. When he’d looked in her eyes, he thought he’d seen something familiar, something that connected them beyond their initial meeting. Now he knew what it was.

  “Reghan was all those things you said, and more.”

  The Fae spoke the words quietly, but they drew Uthe back to the present. Despite the curiosity such a loaded comment raised, Kel looked out the window, shutting down any further questions Uthe might have.

  The pilot’s voice broke in over the intercom. “Sir, we’re about to land. May I have your assistance?”

  It was a small plane, but spacious enough that the pilot could give them privacy behind a closed door. Uthe rose as Keldwyn removed his foot, leaving the lingering sense of firm pressure. The Fae Lord’s simmering glance said his mind wasn’t entirely on the troubled shadows of his past.

  They were landing in the dark, which was why the pilot required his assistance. Standing behind him, Uthe used his night vision to guide the plane down to a safe strip of ground. It was one the pilot had used before, for similar reasons, but Uthe’s abilities verified nothing had wandered or fallen onto the faintly marked track of ground to cause the plane an issue. Once the plane bumped down and came to a halt, Uthe returned to the main cabin. Keldwyn was reading his book, or at least staring at the pages. Uthe left him to his thoughts, going to the partitioned area in the back to collect what he needed and change clothes. He wound a sash around the long, loose tunic, worn over light cotton pants, and tucked Rhoswen’s amulet and his scabbarded dagger into the sash. The tingle of energy from wearing the dagger on his person reminded him of the advance of the sun. It was not long until daybreak.

  As he emerged, Keldwyn rose. He was empty-handed, but Uthe rarely saw the Fae carrying anything. He suspected Keldwyn could call weapons or supplies to hand with his magic. Uthe shouldered his pack. “We’ll help the pilot conceal the plane and then hike from here. He has a camouflage cover, but can you provide any additional warding to protect him and the plane?”

  “Yes, I can do that.”

  Uthe paused. “Are you well, my lord?”

  Keldwyn seemed surprised that he’d asked. Uthe lifted a shoulder. “We have lived long enough to lose those we love far more than once. Repetition does not lessen the blow. If anything, like a hammer, it just drives the nail in deeper.”

  The Fae Lord bowed, oddly formal. “I am well, Lord Uthe. I wish to leave this plane and the memories conjured here.” He managed a faint smile. “They are thick as clouds.”

  He and Keldwyn helped the pilot pull the sand-colored plane in the shadow of an outcropping of rock. Any chrome on the plane had been painted, so it blended well. Keldwyn warded the plane and the pilot, despite the latter looking at the Fae like he’d cursed him to have ugly daughters and weak sons. But with those wards in place, hiding him and the plane from view, it was far less likely he would be at risk.

  The pilot gave them a laconic farewell in Arabic and returned inside.

  “How do we know he’ll be there when we come back?” Keldwyn asked.

  “Because he serves the Templars with his life,” Uthe responded. “He has a week’s worth of food and water, but if all goes as it should, we should be back to the plane in three days. It is an overnight trek there.”

  Keldwyn considered the rocky, barren terrain, dotted with scrub. In the pre-dawn hour, the hills were featureless craggy rises. “An overnight trip even at our usual speeds?”

  “We must use a human pace. If I use vampire speed or you use your magic, we will arouse suspicion. We are being watched.”

  Keldwyn was only a moment behind Uthe in noting it, but vampires had a stronger sense of smell. The Fae’s expression became cooler, more battle-ready. Uthe put a hand on his arm.

  “Right now, it’s just mountain people. They will do us no harm if we observe proper etiquette. Stay aware, but do not look around for them, my lord,” he advised Keldwyn. “As long as we appear capable of defending ourselves and don’t deviate from our intent, we will not see them. That is preferable.”

  “All right then.” Keldwyn considered. “So we can only move at a human pace, and we’ve left the most immediate cover you have, less than an hour before sunrise. Where shall we take shelter, Lord Uthe?”

  “It will not be necessary, as long as I wear this.” Uthe put his hand on the dagger. “It allows me to be out in the sunlight like a human or Fae.”

  Kel’s gaze lasered in on the object. “When you recounted your tale to Queen Rhoswen, I wondered if you still had it.”

  “I do not know why Lord Reghan recovered it from the battlefield, but when I woke in your world, it was by my bedside. I’m grateful he did.”

  “Let me see it, my lord. If I may.”

  At Uthe’s look, Keldwyn snorted. “If I was going to kill you, I could think of other ways than holding your dagger away from you and watching you turn to ash.”

  Uthe grinned and unsheathed the blade, placing it in Keldwyn’s palm. Keldwyn’s expression turned inward. “Peculiar. The magic is…old. Yet I hesitate to call it magic. It is something else.”

  “Yes. Something else.”

  Purity of intent. A shining soul. So rare in this world, and therefore short-lived.

  “Well, if we are going to walk, you may entertain me with stories. Like how you acquired your magical dagger.”

  “Anything to keep you from asking me ‘are we there yet?’ an endless number of times.” Uthe smirked at Keldwyn’s puzzled look. So there were some cultural references his companion did not know.

  “Shall we go then?”

  “In a moment.” Uthe knelt, facing the east, and bent his head in prayer. It mattered not where he was. Whenever he could, he started or ended his day with paternosters and prayers. He felt Keldwyn shift, coming closer to him.

  “You should have determined the location of a nearby cave, in case the magic is not as potent as it once was.”

  “There is one sixty yards to the north
west,” Uthe said. “But this kind of magic doesn’t dilute with time. Now hush, while I’m praying.”

  He suppressed amusement at the Fae Lord’s affront at being shushed, but Keldwyn did fall silent. He didn’t move away, though, and Uthe sensed his readiness to help spirit him to the cave if needed. It touched him, though he could be giving it more weight than it was worth. The Fae enjoyed a good story, so Kel might save Uthe just for that potential. On another day, when there was no story to be told, he might not bother. There was never any telling what was going through his mind.

  Yet at the tail end of his thirteen paternosters, he recalled a memory that had given him a different perspective on the Fae Lord. Keldwyn had arrived at a Council meeting fifteen minutes late one night. When Lyssa asked why he had been delayed, Keldwyn told her he was playing marbles with Kane, her young son. Most of the Council came to the conclusion he was being a wiseass, his way of saying his tardiness was no one’s business but his own. But when Uthe spoke to John, Kane’s older friend and second mark servant, John had confirmed it. The grandson of Elijah Ingram, Lyssa’s majordomo, John was well-spoken, polite and serious.

  “Yes, my lord. He was sitting nearby, watching Kane and me play marbles. We were rolling them down a hill in the driveway, trying to catch them in a cup at the bottom. Well, a few cups. You got more points depending on which cup… I’m sorry, my lord, I didn’t mean to wander off topic. Anyhow, he got up and asked Kane if he could play.” The young boy’s eyes had widened. “Can you imagine, someone like him asking us that? Kane said yes, thank heavens. I’m not sure what would have happened if he’d said no, but you know how he can be.”

  Kane was a miniature version of his imperious mother. Uthe did indeed know what John meant, and amusedly wondered what Keldwyn would have done if Kane had told him he couldn’t play. Probably turned Kane into a rabbit, put him a shoebox to deliver him safely to Lyssa, and taken the marbles, all to teach him a lesson in manners.

  “Anyhow, he knelt right there on the path with us and played for fifteen minutes. Even showed us a couple other games he knew with marbles. Then he thanked us for letting him join us. He said he had to go to a meeting, but that had been far more fun and he wasn’t sorry he’d be late.”

  Insights like that had enlightened him about the Fae Lord. Sometimes Uthe believed he really did know what Keldwyn was thinking. Depending on what he supposed those thoughts were, they by turns made him uncomfortable, pleased or disturbed. Keldwyn was savvy enough to make a vampire think he knew what he thought, which should warn Uthe never to relax around him. Yet, Uthe could and did relax around him more often than expected. Like now.

  As he reminded himself he was supposed to be finishing up his prayers, he was aware of Keldwyn behind him. He’d shifted closer, his calf pressed to Uthe’s hip, his body forming a shadow over him.

  The first ray of the sun speared between the vee of two mountains. It touched Uthe’s face, his lips. Adrenaline surged, that quick spurt of panic, but the same way he did during his normal morning ritual, he quelled it. Unlike then, he had no intention of fleeing the sun’s touch. He had faith in the power behind the dagger. He kept his eyes closed, his head bowed, thanking the Lord for blessings and guidance, for His wisdom. Heat unfurled over his face and shoulders, warming him through the tunic.

  Standing in the sun took him back to protection details with his Templar brethren. He recalled the sauntering movement of his powerful mount, Nexus, beneath him as they flanked a group of pilgrims along the road from Jerusalem to Jericho, the route to visit the river Jordan. Once they arrived at their destination, he’d let Nexus cavort in the lapping waters. It had been an infraction, but he’d stripped off his armor and ridden the horse barefoot, the water washing over his toes and legs, his knees pressed into Nexus’s wet sides. The sun had glittered off the spray when Nexus tossed his massive head from side to side.

  The heat penetrated his clothes quickly, and the exposed areas of his skin reacted with less fondness than his memories. It would take time for it to adjust to something it hadn’t felt in a few centuries.

  As he lifted his head, Keldwyn offered him a hand to his feet he didn’t need, but he took it, enjoying the palm to palm contact. When the male registered it and began to draw Uthe closer, Uthe balked, a warning to them both. “It’s best that we not act as we might…when alone. Those watching us are not friendly toward men who take pleasure with one another.”

  Keldwyn had his hair tied back, giving the sharp bones of his face a more severe look. He wore clothing like Uthe did now, and he’d used what he called glamor magic to conceal his ears, make them appear human to anyone watching. He was as prepared as Uthe for most contingencies, always thinking several steps ahead, and annoyed with himself when he didn’t.

  Which he demonstrated now with a frown. “We should have brought you sun screen, my lord.”

  Uthe smiled. “Even if I burn, I will heal, Lord Keldwyn. But your concern is appreciated.” When he gestured in the direction they needed to go, Keldwyn fell into step with him. As they started to navigate the rocky terrain, Uthe calculated the number of steep inclines and steeper descents. The path to the sorceress’s cave reminded Uthe of an exposed rabbit warren.

  “You were going to tell me the story of the dagger,” Keldwyn prompted. “Unless you feel you must keep that a secret.”

  “No.” During their companionable silence on the plane, Uthe had thought it over, coming to the conclusion that certain things were going to have to be entrusted to someone, in case… Just in case. He’d accepted his reservations about Keldwyn were primarily rooted in a longstanding distrust of the Fae, not a distrust of the male himself. Keldwyn was clever and kept Uthe on his toes in Council meetings, ensuring vampire interests were not undermined by Fae ones, but representing Fae interests was Kel’s job. He had no doubt Keldwyn would share information about Uthe’s quest with Queen Rhoswen or King Tabor, but he didn’t think Keldwyn would sabotage his efforts. Perhaps that was evidence of declining judgment, but his gut feelings were not connected to his mind, so he trusted them more. It was better for Keldwyn to understand some of this; otherwise, his ignorance could prove more detrimental than what information he could feed to Fae royals.

  Besides, telling him the story would get Uthe’s mind off the broiling sun. By the Virgin, he’d forgotten how hot it could be.

  “I was born in Germany. The Holy Roman Empire, then. My father still referred to it as Germania. I left his care when I was close to fifty.”

  “Fifty?” Keldwyn glanced at him. “Weren’t you still a fledgling? My understanding was born vampires are unable to control their bloodlust without guidance until they are well over fifty.”

  Uthe nodded. “I was also a target for other vampires who can be cruel to a born male fledgling. God blessed me with a cunning that helped me navigate those dangers, and a maturity to contain the bloodlust better than most vampires at the same age. Despite that, without an ally, I still might have been ended before I began. I met Rail in France. He was an old vampire, though I didn’t know then how old. He let me stay in his home and asked nothing of me except my companionship. He treated me as a son and taught me how to protect myself.”

  Uthe paused. “He was different from any vampire I’ve known, then or since. You can detect the potential for bloodlust in any of us, even at our calmest. Not him. His peacefulness was like a lake, always. When we went out to find blood, he’d use compulsion to bring a human to him, share that human with me and then release the human after clearing his or her mind of the event. Throughout all of it, he’d show no urgency. He ate as a human breathes—naturally, without thought, without struggle.”

  Uthe placed his hand on the hilt of the dagger. “He had this in his possession. Since he always had it with him, I asked him about it.”

  He closed his eyes, remembering the other vampire. Rail had deep brown skin, dark as the earth and burned darker, for he’d been a made vampire, a human who’d once known the baking heat of the su
n. His piercing brown eyes were laced with crimson, his voice rough like the warning rumble of an old dog…

  * * *

  “Why do you carry that dagger everywhere? What’s so special about it?”

  Rail didn’t answer the question right away, his attention on the wooden horse he was carving. His vampire speed made him a prolific woodworker. He was the source of bowls, utensils, toys and tools for the nearest small villages. He lived on their outskirts, in a small hut with a cool, dark cellar dug into the floor, where he and Uthe slept during the daylight hours.

  “I’ve been thinking.” Rail ignored Uthe’s question, or so he thought. “You should give yourself your own name. I named myself Rail, because of how thin I am. We live so many years, it doesn’t much matter where we’re from or what we were called as a babe, does it?”

  Uthe thought about that, liked the idea. “We’ve been everywhere,” Rail continued. “I’ve rarely met a vampire over five hundred who hasn’t seen a lot of the world, because you can’t stay one place too long with the same humans.”

  “You haven’t thought of taking a servant?”

  Rail shrugged. “I was born well before that started happening. I’m not even sure who did it first, who figured out the purpose of those marking serums hidden up behind our fangs. Maybe it’s just instinct that guided us the right way, like the first person who figured out we live on human blood. But if you weren’t born into that, and I wasn’t, it seems strange, saddling yourself with a human, with all their weaknesses.”

  Uthe’s father had felt the same way. He’d only taken a human servant to breed. Once he’d found one that could give him a son, he’d seen no further purpose to her save for one final, fatal meal. Their unwillingness to have a fully marked servant was the only similarity Uthe saw between his father and Rail. Thankfully.