“Oh, you will see him,” Nuan Cee said. “He is coming down the hallway now.”
Maud took a deep breath.
A moment later, Arland loomed in the doorway, carrying a large gray case. He saw her. “My lady.”
Helen waved at Arland. He took a step into the room, but the lees swarmed him, pushing him out into the hallway.
“You left her alone!”
“People were mean to her.”
“She was sad!”
Maud glanced at Nuan Cee. He smiled at her.
Arland looked at her above the lees, a pained look on his face, and raised his arms in mock surrender.
“I suppose I should find out where he was.” She sighed.
“Come see me anytime, Matilda,” Nuan Cee said.
She hadn’t heard her real name in years. Only her parents called her that and only in rare moments.
“I will,” she promised and meant it.
Maud stepped through the doorway into the hallway. Behind her the door slid shut, cutting off the lees and their outraged cries.
Arland glanced at Helen. His eyes darkened. “Who?”
“It was a formal challenge,” Maud said.
“I’m getting ripper cushions,” Helen told him.
Arland turned to Maud.
“Lady Helen challenged someone in the nursery, was warned not to fight, and did it anyway. Now there will be repercussions.”
“Did you win?” Arland asked.
Helen nodded.
“All is well then. If you go through life never doing anything deserving any repercussions, you’ll never know victory.”
Helen grinned.
“That is some fine parenting, Lord Marshal.” Maud loaded enough sarcasm into her tone to sink a space cruiser.
“I try,” Arland said.
The three of them looked at each other. Awkward.
“May I walk you to your quarters?” he asked.
“You may.” It was that or continue standing in the hallway.
They walked through the keep to the covered bridge, Helen running back and forth, sometimes in front, sometimes behind. The storm still raged and green lightning flashed overhead, ripping through the dark sky.
“I’m sorry,” Arland said.
“For what, my lord?”
“For not being there during dinner. It wasn’t my intention.”
“I don’t need your protection or assistance, my lord. I’m not a prisoner. I’m here because I choose to be here. If I felt I couldn’t hack it on my own, I would’ve left already.”
They crossed the bridge into the tower and stopped at the end of the chamber where the two hallways branched off, one leading to her quarters, the other to his.
“I know that you don’t require my protection, my lady. If I thought you did, I wouldn’t have extended the invitation. I’m not looking for a maiden to save. I’m looking for a partner.”
She narrowed her eyes at him.
He ignored her and kept going. “However, it was my intention to escort you to dinner and to spend the meal with you. I regret that my duties detained me and that I was unable to make you feel welcome in the feast hall of my home. Please accept my deepest apologies, my lady.”
If they got any more painfully polite, they would draw blood simply by speaking.
“No apologies necessary, my lord. It was time well spent. I was fortunate enough to experience the hospitality of House Krahr first-hand.”
He waited.
“Nothing to add, Lord Marshal?”
“A wise man knows when to shut up,” he said. “I have a mother and a female cousin. I know that tone of voice. Anything I say now will be wrong. I will humbly wait to be banished or forgiven.”
“Humbly?”
“Yes.”
“Why, my lord, I’m surprised you know the meaning of the word.”
He looked at her. She looked back. They crossed stares like swords.
“Are you going to fight?” Helen asked in a small voice.
Oh, for goodness’ sake…“What’s in the box?” Maud asked.
“Dinner,” he said. “I didn’t get to have one and from what I understand, neither did you. Join me?”
She considered stomping off to her room in all of her pissed off glory, but it would be childish. Also, she was starving.
“Yes,” Maud said.
Arland grinned at her. She nearly raised her hand to shield herself.
“Just a dinner,” she said.
“Just a dinner,” he said. “Also, I downloaded The Saga of Olasard, the Ripper of Souls, onto my viewer. It’s animated.”
It hit her. Helen had never seen a cartoon before. Then his words sank in deeper. “Umm, there is that one part in the catacombs…”
“Oh, no, they took that out. It’s made for children.”
“Oh good.”
The door to Arland’s quarters was identical to hers, heavy, reinforced, old. It slid open and he stood aside, inviting her in. She stepped through the doorway into a mirror image of her suite, complete with doors leading to the bathroom and balcony. Yet nobody would confuse the two spaces. Her chambers were devoid of personal touches, but this place clearly belonged to Arland.
A small alla tree grew in the corner, its branches heavy with white blossoms. It was in good health, so someone was watering it. A stack of actual paper books waited on the table by the massive bed. She saw a copy of a popular YA novel from Earth and bit her lip to keep from laughing. A variety of knickknacks lay here and there; a long, wicked dagger not of vampire make; a piece of misshapen metal; a small wooden figurine carved in painstaking detail, probably by Wing, one of the creatures staying in Dina’s inn. If she squinted just right, it sort of looked like her…
Arland swung his hand before a wall. It split open, exposing a linen closet. He grabbed some large floor pillows and tossed them on the rug. A fuzzy blanket followed.
“Viewer,” he ordered.
A screen slid from above, covering the opposite wall.
“Saga of Olasard.”
An animated vampire knight appeared on the screen, wearing elaborate armor, holding a bloody sword in one hand and a severed head in the other. He raised the sword and roared.
Helen’s eyes grew huge. “It’s like a book! But it’s moving.”
“Pause,” Arland said. “Helen, I gave you access. You can tell it to pause, rewind, and fast forward.”
She looked at the pillows and then back at the screen. “I need my teddy!”
“Let’s go get him,” Maud said. “We’ll be right back.”
A couple of minutes later Helen and her teddy were situated on the pillows. By the time they came back, Arland had opened the box he carried. Ribeye steak, with ribs still attached for the ease of holding. Half a dozen vampire side dishes, thinly sliced meat, roasted vegetables, little tiny pies…The smell alone made Maud’s mouth water.
Arland produced a stack of plates. Helen loaded hers up, crawled onto the pillows and started her movie.
Maud made her plate, propped a pillow against Arland’s bed, and sat on the floor. Arland sat next to her with his own dinner. Their arms almost touched.
Maud attacked the food. For the first five minutes nobody spoke. Finally, she ate enough to take the edge off the hunger.
“Where were you?” she asked quietly.
“Dealing with an idiot. One of Karat’s knights challenged her in direct violation of my orders.”
So that’s why Karat wasn’t at dinner. “How did it go?”
Arland shrugged. “He’ll walk again. Some day.”
She smiled at him.
“As Marshal, I had to deal with it. And by deal, I mean I had to watch that farce of a fight and then slap him with sanctions.”
“’A man who never does anything deserving repercussions will never taste victory,’” she said with a straight face.
“That idiot couldn’t find his way out of a boot with floodlights and scout support. Trust me, victory is not in hi
s future.”
On the screen, a massive creature charged Olasard, who heroically jumped impossibly high into the air, swinging a sword that was almost as big as he was. Helen clutched the teddy to her and took another bite out of her steak.
“Went a bit overboard with his sword,” Maud murmured.
“More dramatic this way,” Arland said.
She liked this, Maud realized with a shock. She liked sitting here on the floor with him, watching Helen. It felt almost like a late-night pajama party. Comfortable.
Safe.
It had been so bloody long since she’d felt safe. There was the time in Dina’s inn, but Gertrude Hunt had been under assault.
They could’ve done this in her quarters, just her and Helen, but it wouldn’t be the same. It was him. Arland made her feel safe.
Alarm screeched at her senses. To let your guard down was to die. What am I doing?
“Is something the matter?” he asked quietly.
The anxiety saddled her and galloped off. This was ridiculous. The simple act of relaxing was so alien to her that her mind went into convulsions, thinking she was in danger.
Maud opened her mouth to lie.
No. She promised herself she wouldn’t.
“This is strange,” Maud said. “Being safe is strange.”
Arland reached behind him, pulled a blanket off the bed, and draped it over her. “It will pass,” he said quietly. “Eat a little more. Food will help.”
She picked up her plate. Her instincts screamed at her to get out of the room. Instead she moved closer to him. They were touching now.
He draped his big body against the bed, relaxed, calm. Maud took another bite.
“The tachi were on the verge of leaving,” she said. “You served them salad.”
“They are vegetarians.”
“They like meat. They just won’t eat it in enemy territory.”
“Are we the enemy, then?” he asked, his voice calm and measured.
She took another bite and moved half an inch closer to him. “They’re trying to decide. They like patterns in their food. The more elaborate, the better. Where is your Maven?”
“Dead,” he said. “She was murdered just as she prepared to be a Band Bearer for an important wedding. Her name was Olinia. She was my youngest aunt.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Her assassin is dead. The person who betrayed her is dead as well. That’s how I met Lady Dina.”
Onscreen, Olasard lopped off three heads from evil vampires in a single swing. Helen waved the ribeye bone around, imitating it.
“Can I ask you something?” Maud asked.
“Of course.”
“Why do you have a copy of Twilight in your room?”
Arland became completely still. “Um.”
“Lord Marshal?” she prompted with a small smile.
“I wanted to know how women from Earth see vampires.”
“Why?”
He paused, obviously choosing his words carefully. “Your sister is a fascinating woman.”
“You don’t ever have to apologize for being attracted to my sister,” she told him. “She is amazing.”
“She is. To my shame, I must confess that it might have been more than just Lady Dina’s fine qualities. A certain rivalry may have played a role.”
“Sean Evans,” Maud guessed.
“I decided back then that I do not like werewolves,” Arland said. “I have yet to change my mind. Ghastly creatures.”
They sat together in comfortable silence while she picked at her plate. He was right. Food helped. Of course, if she relied on food to stave off her anxiety, she would soon have to get a new set of armor.
“We do not get many outsiders here,” Arland said. “Kacey, my cousin’s stepbrother’s wife, is the first human I had ever seen. As adolescents, we were all fascinated by her. She was different. When I visited the inn, I had never before met anyone like Lady Dina. Feminine, wrapped in mystery, yet firmly in control of her domain.”
“The mystique of the innkeepers,” Maud murmured.
“Yes. Sometimes meeting someone so different obscures the real person underneath. One becomes more fascinated with what a person represents than who they are.”
“Mmmm.” Where was he going with this?
His voice was intimate and sure. “What I’m trying to say is, I see you. I would love you if you were a vampire or a human, because of who you are. You don’t need an inn or a broom to fascinate me. You only have to look my way and you’ll have all of my attention.”
Something fluttered in her chest. Something left over from before Karhari and her marriage.
She tilted her head and gave him a narrow smile. “What if I were a werewolf?”
He sucked in air, pretending to think it over. “I would love you still.”
She laughed quietly and rested her head on his shoulder.
7
The door chimed.
Maud sat up on the bed, instantly awake, and for a confused moment, tried to open the door with her mind. Then reality sank in: She wasn’t back at Dina’s inn. She was in her quarters in House Krahr’s castle.
She’d dreamt of being small and weak, running for her life through the garden at her parents’ inn. Something chased her, something huge and monstrous. She tried to see what it was, but all she could remember were teeth. Enormous teeth as tall as Helen.
The door chimed again.
Maud shook her head, trying to clear the last shreds of the nightmare from her mind. Yesterday she’d stayed in Arland’s room way too long. They’d ended up talking about the space station long after Helen had fallen asleep.
“Time?” she asked as she pulled on soft sweatpants.
Glowing red numbers ignited on the wall above the fireplace. 9:30. Daesyn had a thirty-hour cycle, each hour being fifty minutes, each minute fifty moments. It was early. In Earth time, around 6:30 am.
The door chimed once again.
“Open.”
The door slid aside, and Karat swept in wearing black armor. Not her best military set, either. When a military set suffered damage, it was often repaired while in battle or shortly after. Fixing syn-armor required a quiet environment, a lot of time, and a steady hand. Under battle conditions all three were frequently in short supply, which was why war armor showed scars and imperfections. The black set Karat wore now looked like it had just come from a nanite forge. Whatever damage it had suffered had been mended without a trace.
Karat dropped into the nearest chair. “How was my cousin?”
Maud blinked at her.
“You spent most of the night in his rooms.”
“You’re spying on me.”
“Of course we’re spying on you. We know you went back to your room with Helen. We also know that the current usage in his room was elevated until well after midnight, which is atypical of him, so we deduced that you dropped off your child and returned via the private passageway. I trust everything went well?”
Vampire cousins. “The armor stayed on.”
“What? Why?”
“We’re not to that stage of the relationship.”
Karat stared at her. “Have you ever?”
“No.”
“That’s absurd. How do you know you’re compatible? How could he ask you to marry him without first verifying this?”
“You would have to ask him,” Maud growled.
“What were you doing all that time in his rooms?”
“Helen watched a movie. We talked. It was sweet.”
“So, you took the child with you…Wait.” Karat paused. “Did you just say my cousin was sweet? Arland Krahr? The Bloodmace? The Bone Crusher? The Ravager of Nexus? That Arland?”
“Yes. He was sweet and there was no ravaging.” The way he looked at her last night gave her no doubt he wanted to. She wanted to as well, but something held her back. She was like a bridled horse. Every time she thought about it, something tugged on the reins and made her stop.
Karat leaned back and laughed. “That is so not like him. Poor, poor Arland. So far gone.”
Maud sighed. “The problem isn’t your cousin. The problem is me. He’s giving me time.”
Karat sobered up. “Yes, of course.”
“Is there a point in you coming here and waking me up?”
“Yes.” All mirth drained from Karat’s face. “Lady Ilemina requests your presence at the Ladies’ Communal this morning.”
Figured. Maud squared her shoulders. She knew it was coming and here it was. There was no escape.
“Do you have practice armor?” Karat asked.
“I’ll wear my usual set.”
“Probably for the best. You’ll need it. You have about twenty minutes to get ready. We’ll need to collect Helen as well. She has labor duty.”
“We’ll get dressed,” Maud said.
“Here we go.” Karat stopped by the doorway to a large chamber. The older sentinel who’d brought Helen to the feast hall waited in the doorway. Beyond the doorway children played on floor.
The sentinel’s blue eyes sparkled slightly with hidden humor. “Lady Helen.”
Lady Helen squared her tiny shoulders. “I’m here for repercussions.”
“Indeed.” The older vampire produced a small brush and a tube filled with blue gel. “You will squeeze some gel on the floor and scrub it with your brush until all the dirt is removed. You will clean ten stone squares of the floor. You will remain here until your task is complete.”
Helen took the little brush and the tube, held her head high, and went inside.
Sweep of the Blade (Innkeeper Chronicles Book 4) Page 10