Sweep of the Blade (Innkeeper Chronicles Book 4)

by Ilona Andrews

  Arland swore.

  “He raved about it. My father was worried that they wouldn’t be able to contain him, and he appealed to the Innkeeper Assembly. They sent the ad-hal and the ad-hal took him away. That’s why the Mukama are barred from inns.”

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me? Why didn’t anyone tell us?”

  Maud sighed. “I didn’t tell you because I had forgotten it. I’ve had nightmares about it every night on this planet, but I must have repressed it. It was just too scary. All of my energy was spent either tending to your wounds or trying to not throw myself at you.”

  His eyebrows crept up.

  “As to why nobody told the Holy Anocracy, the vampires are just one of the thousands of species who come through Earth’s inns. We maintain our neutrality and we keep the secrets of our guests.”

  Maud frowned. “What is it about the children? The Mukama and their relatives seem uncontrollably drawn to them. Three creatures who had survived on a vampire world all this time burst out of hiding just to eat my daughter. Why now?”

  “I don’t know,” Arland said. “But we will find out.”

  They lay together in a comfortable silence. Maud basked in it. Warm and safe and…

  “Tell me something. When I was running to you, I could have sworn the Mukona froze in mid-move. Was it you?”

  She groaned and pulled the covers over her head.

  Arland peeled the blankets back. “That’s not an answer.”

  “It was me.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He pinned her with his stare. “It reminded me of Tony. The ad-hal Tony. When he walked into the battle at your sister’s inn and froze the attacking Draziri.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why do you have to be so observant?”

  “A lifetime of training and a few moments of fear,” Arland said. “When you see the woman you love and your daughter about to be eaten alive, it sharpens your senses a bit. Why do you have the magic of an ad-hal?”

  “I wish I could tell you. I’ve never done that before. Nobody knows how the ad-hal are made or trained. When a child is chosen to become an ad-hal, and the family consents, they are taken away for a while. Sometimes a few months, sometimes a year. The older you are, the longer the training takes. They don’t talk about it, even with their families. Sometimes they come back, like Tony, sometimes they choose not to.”

  “Are the ad-hal highly prized? Are they rare?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  His expression hardened.

  “Are you formulating a battle plan in case the ad-hal show up here and try to take me or Helen away?” she asked.

  “They will not take you away. You are the Maven of House Krahr. Nobody comes to take you away. They would have to kill the entirety of our House. You said it yourself, their numbers are few. Should they try, there would be a lot fewer of them.”

  She gave a mock shudder. “So bloodthirsty.”

  He flashed his fangs at her.

  “It doesn’t work like that,” she explained. “Becoming an ad-hal is strictly voluntary. If I go back to Earth and demonstrate my new time freezing ability, assuming I can do it, because I don’t know how I did it and I’ve been trying to do it again with no success, the Innkeeper Assembly may want to ask me some questions. But I am not an innkeeper. They have no authority over me unless I break the treaty. But I like the way you think, my lord.”

  Arland kissed her shoulder. “That’s excellent news.”

  The kissing made it difficult to carry on a conversation. “Mhm. So when did you know your mother made me the Maven?”

  “She informed me after the fact.” He nuzzled her neck. “Do you like being the Maven?”

  “I’m thinking about it. What are you doing?”

  “Since my wounds don’t need tending, I am seeing if I can get you to throw yourself at me.”

  “Already?”

  “A knight always rises to the occasion, my lady.”

  The three of them were eating breakfast on her barren balcony. She and Arland sat at the table, enjoying mint tea and a platter of meats, cheeses and fruit, while Helen had taken her plate and sat cross-legged on the stone wall, contemplating the dizzying drop below. Every time she shifted her weight, Maud had to fight the urge to leap into action and pull her back from the edge.

  “The child is completely fearless,” Arland said quietly.

  “Karhari was flat,” Maud said. “I’m not sure if she understands the danger or is just ignoring it.”

  Arland raised his voice. “Helen, do not fall.”

  “I won’t.”

  Arland glanced back at Maud.

  Well, of course, that fixes everything. She hid a smile and drank her mint tea.

  “I have a gift for you.” Arland pushed a small tablet across the table.

  On the tablet, a slightly worse for wear but still impressive vessel appeared on the screen. It was patched, repaired and obviously scarred but the battle-damaged nature of the ship seemed to make it even more imposing. It was like an aging fighter, battered but unbowed.

  “The Star Arrow? Renouard’s ship?”

  Arland nodded. “The pirate.”

  “What about it?”

  “Would you like him killed?”

  She blinked.

  “He insulted you. You seem to dislike him, so I sent a frigate to track him down. We’ve been watching him for the past half-cycle, and we have more than enough firepower to reduce him and his ship to cosmic dust.”

  “Let me see if I understand correctly. You didn’t like the way a pirate and slave trader spoke to me, so you sent a frigate to track him down and murder him and his crew at my convenience?”

  “You seemed to really dislike him.”

  She stared at him for a long moment and then began counting on her fingers. “Fuel cost, hazard pay, an entire crew sent into deep space…”

  “The man is a menace, and the galaxy would be better off without him.”

  She squinted at him. “Are you jealous of Renouard?”

  “Not anymore. You are here with me and he is somewhere in the Malpin Quadrant, about to impersonate a supernova.” Arland sipped his tea.

  She laughed. “Would you like me to tell you about him?”

  “If you wish.”

  “We met at a Road Lodge, a year and a half ago. He is a smuggler, occasional slave trader, and pirate of opportunity. I don’t know which House he was in, but I do know that he was born out of wedlock and it caused an issue. Depending on who you asked, he was either cast out or he left of his own free will, but he has been a pirate for the last two decades. I ran into him again after Melizard died. I was desperate to get off the planet, and he offered me passage.”

  “At what price?”

  Maud shook her head. “Human, vampire, doesn’t matter. You want to know if I slept with him.” It was rather adorable that it was bugging him that much.

  “I would never presume to ask.” Arland’s face was very carefully neutral. If he appeared any more disinterested, he would fade into the stone wall.

  “I never had sex with Renouard. He hinted at first, then he offered me passage for it, but even if I had found him attractive, which I didn’t, I never trusted him. He is the type to screw you until he’s bored, and then sell you to the highest bidder to make a quick credit. Even if I had been by myself, I wouldn’t have taken him up on it. I was responsible for Helen. I wasn’t about to take any chances. Shooting him now serves no purpose.”

  “It might be entertaining to watch him explode.” Arland smiled wide, showing her his splendid fangs.

  Maud rolled her eyes. “Keep him. He’s not stupid. He’s been a pirate for twenty years; he’s a survivor. He knows a lot of creatures. He’s also vain and he hates the Holy Anocracy, which makes him predictable. He may prove a valuable resource. Alternatively, you can storm his ship, put him in chains, have him dragged here and hidden in some dark hole, and when you’re suffering from an atta
ck of melancholy, you could go and poke him with a stick. It would cheer you right up.”

  “I don’t do melancholy.” Arland sat up straighter. “I am the Lord Marshal of House Krahr. I have no time to mope.”

  Maud shrugged. “There is your answer then.”

  Arland took the tablet back and typed something in a very deliberate fashion.

  “I recalled the frigate. The man is a scumbag but blowing him to pieces after this conversation would be unseemly. I have to avoid the appearance of pettiness.”

  “What happens the next time somebody is mean to me? Will you scramble the fleet again?”

  “I’ll handle it. I just won’t tell you about it until it’s done.”

  She laughed. “Do you feel I need assistance defending my honor?”

  Arland leaned back and glanced into her quarters.

  “What are you doing?” Maud asked.

  “Checking to see where your sword is before I answer.”

  She leaned back in her chair and laughed again. She couldn’t remember the last time she had so much fun at breakfast. You could have this every day, a small voice told her. Just like this, the three of them, together, making jokes about pirate hunting and watching to see if they needed to rescue Helen.

  “Do you think I could get some plants for this balcony?”

  Arland stopped chewing halfway through his smoked meat. “Do you want plants? Make a list. I’ll have them delivered before sunset.”

  “Thank you. It needs some flowers,” she said.

  “You don’t need to even ask. Anything you want is yours, if it is within my power to grant. Besides, as Maven, you have a discretionary spending account and the authority to use it as you wish.”

  Maud toyed with her spoon. “I don’t even know what to get…”

  “Can I have a kitty?” Helen asked.

  The two of them turned to her.

  “If Mommy gets flowers, can I have a kitty?”

  Arland looked abashed. “We don’t really have kitties. Would you settle for a rassa puppy or a goren puppy?”

  Helen checked her harbinger. “Yes!”

  “Then we’ll go to the kennels when we finish breakfast. If your mother approves.”

  Smart man. “I approve,” Maud said.

  Their harbingers chimed at the same time. Maud read the short, one-sentence message, and her stomach tried to crawl sideways.

  The happy couple want to wed on the battle station.

  – Karat.

  19

  Maud followed Arland into the HQ of House Krahr. The large room churned with activity. Desks and displays sprouted from the floor, each station a focal point for the House Krahr elite, and between them a dozen knights and retainers hurried to and fro. Screens shone on the walls, flashing with data and images. A clump of retainers surrounded Ilemina on the left and an equally large group crowded Lord Soren.

  “Lord Marshal!” Knight Ruin emerged from the rush, a look of determination on his face. As far as she could tell, Knight Ruin’s mission in life was to ensure that Arland was where he was supposed to be when he was supposed to be there so he could be taking care of pressing matters, of which Knight Ruin always had a long and detailed list. She had a feeling the russet-haired knight considered her to be a permanent threat to his success.

  Arland veered left to what had to be his desk, with Ruin following and speaking in urgent low tones. Several knights peeled off from the crowd and closed in on Arland like starved sharks.

  Maud halted, taking in the controlled chaos around her. The entire wedding venue had to be relocated to the battle station, where things would finally come to an end. The logistics of moving the celebration alone were enough to give one kittens but selecting who would be in attendance to the wedding added an entirely new dimension. Planetside, House Krahr had an overwhelming numbers advantage. In space, with a limited capacity, half of which was taken up by the wedding “guests,” every attendee counted.

  The gauntlet was thrown, the war banner unfurled, and the fangs bared. House Krahr had risen to the challenge.

  In his wildest dreams, that’s what Melizard had envisioned. A thriving House, bustling with activity and preparing for war. The hum of voices, the chimes of communication alerts, the rapid rhythm of running footsteps…Spacecraft taking off on the monitors. Knights in battle armor. An electric excitement saturating the hall, sizzling along his skin. Her former husband would have drunk it in like it was the nectar of the gods. Melizard would’ve killed, in a very literal sense of the word, for a chance to be a part of this. He had once told her he felt like he was born into the wrong House. She never understood it until now. House Ervan could have never delivered this, not on this scale. This was what he must’ve seen in his head.

  He must’ve felt suffocated.

  She imagined his ghost standing next to her, a thin translucent shadow, and waited for the familiar pinch of bitterness. It didn’t come.

  I’ve moved on.

  She was free. Finally. All her memories and bitter lessons were still there but they lost their bite. The present mattered so much more now.

  Everyone around her was busy. She should make herself useful. At least she could contribute in some small way. Someone somewhere could use her assistance…

  A young vampire knight slid to a halt in front of her. If Melizard’s ghost had any substance, she would have torn right through him. She was tall, with a deep-gray skin and a wealth of blue-black hair braided from her face. She held a tablet in her hands, a communicator curved to her lips, and a secondary display projected over her left eye.

  “Lady Maven.”

  Maud moved to step aside and froze in mid-step. She was the Maven.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m Lady Lisoun. I’m your adjutant. What should we do about the chairs?”

  “What about the chairs?” What chairs? Adjutant?

  Lady Lisoun took a deep breath. The words came out of her in a rapid sprint. “The battle station banquet hall chairs.”

  Maud waited.

  “They are sojourn style chairs.”

  Sojourn style chairs had a solid back. There was no way the tachi would be able to sit in the sojourn chairs. Their vestigial appendages would be in the way.

  “Your desk is this way.” Lisoun began weaving her way through the crowd.

  Maud marched next to her. “Can we substitute different chairs?”

  “No, my lady. They are part of a unit, one table and eight chairs.”

  “Are they attached to the table?”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “Whose bright idea was that?”

  “I don’t know, my lady. They stow away for the ease of storage.”

  “Are they at least height adjustable?” The lees couldn’t sit in vampire-sized chairs either.

  “I don’t know.” Lisoun braked to a stop before a desk surrounded by people. “I’ll find out.”

  The retainers crowding the desk saw Maud and swarmed them. Everyone spoke at once.

  “One at a time!” Maud barked.

  A familiar looking retainer—where had she seen him? Ah, feast hall—thrust a tablet under her nose. On it glowed an elaborately arranged platter of fruit and vegetables. “Menu for approval!”

  Maud stared at the arrangement. “Take out all of the kavla—the tachi are allergic. Make sure the honey doesn’t contain any kavla either.” She waved her fingers at the tablet, scrolling through the pictures. “No. None of these make any sense. The tikk igi dishes need to have a pattern. You can’t just put a bunch of pretty fruit randomly on a platter. There must be a progression of taste or color, ideally both. A circular arrangement would start with sour fruit on the edge and then progressively get sweeter toward the center. Or, you start with purple berries and work your way through a spectrum to yellow. This is a haphazard mess. Take this back, bring me an updated menu.”

  He took the tablet and broke into a sprint.

  “The chairs are not adjustable!” Lisoun reported.
>
  “Get me a station engineer.” Maud looked at the crowd. “Next!”

  Konstana thrust herself into Maud’s view. They hadn’t seen each other since the Communal. The red-haired knight’s arm didn’t show any signs of ever being broken.

  “I’m your security chief,” she said.

  She had a security chief. Huh. “How many people do we have?”

  “Three squads, sixty knights total, but they are only letting me take six. They expect me to secure thirty-eight aliens with six vampires.”

  Maud raised her eyebrows. “Is that a problem?”

  Konstana scoffed. “Of course not. But I do need to know how they are getting to the battle station. Are we transporting them or are they transporting themselves? And if they are transporting themselves, are we going to let them dock or are they shuttling over via their shuttles or via ours?”

  “What does the Knight-Sergeant say?”

  “He said to ask you.”

  Thank you, Lord Soren. “Get battle station security chief on the line and figure out if a non-regulation shuttle can even dock there. Let me know what you find out.”

  Lisoun pushed her way back into the circle. She grasped Maud’s arm and half-guided, half-propelled her behind a podium next to her desk where a large screen presented her with a tough looking female vampire standing in a large hall. The smooth black floor split, a glossy onyx contraption spiraled out of it and unfolded into a round table ringed by eight sojourn style chairs. The chairs were big, rectangular, and blocky. The worst-case scenario.

  “How wide are those chair backs at the seat?” Maud asked.

  “Twenty lots,” the engineer reported, which Maud’s implant helpfully converted into twenty-eight inches. Right.

  “I need you to cut a hole in the back of the chair at the seat level, twenty-four inches wide and eight inches tall.”

  The engineer stared at her, incredulous. “You want me to deface the an-alloy chairs?”

  “Yes.” She glanced at Lisoun. “I need the seating chart.”

  A diagram popped out on a side screen. Oh universe, what in the world…“This is wrong,” she told Lisoun. “We cannot put the royal in the back of the hall.”