The Sanction

by Reeyce Smythe Wilder

  He contemplated the rigid set of Rhys’ shoulders and exhaled a heavy sigh. He had no right to ask this of his friend. Already the man had done too much. But Graeme’s absence from the horde would prove detrimental if the Hunters attacked when he was not present. Rhys on the other hand, could get her to the village and no one would bat an eye. Rhys, despite his sense of higher consciousness, was a loyal friend.

  “When this is over, I am leaving.”

  Stunned, Graeme frowned. “Do not be ridiculous. Without the horde you will be vulnerable.”

  The man flashed him an impatient glance. “I am vulnerable if I help you, and yet I still do.”

  Graeme folded his arms across his chest and shook his head heavily. “I apologize that you are caught in the middle of this, but there is none other I trust with her life.”

  Rhys snickered. “I do not like your vampire mate. Still, I suppose none of this could have been avoided.”

  The quiet resignation in his voice reassured Graeme even more. “I do not want you to leave. There is a place for you here.”

  Rhys smiled a bitter smile. “No. I do not agree with this – deceiving the horde, calling war on ourselves. You do what you have to for your mate, to see that she is well protected, and I do what I must. After this battle is over, if I live to see this thing that you are about accomplished, I will move on.”

  Graeme nodded understanding. He could not fault Rhys his decision to leave, and he could not fault him his distaste for Amarinda. From birth they had been taught that vampires were demons that needed to feed on human blood in order to survive. How exactly the feud between the two species began, he did not know. Right then however, all that mattered was keeping her protected from the masses, and the Hunters.

  “When do we leave?” Rhys voice took on a businesslike note once again – a General awaiting his instruction.

  Graeme sighed. “Tomorrow at daybreak. You will travel during the daylight hours. The Scouts will not be suspicious of one that travels with a pregnant female, so there should be no trouble.”

  Rhys compressed his lips in a thin line, but nodded all the same. “What of food? It is a four day ride to the glen. If she hunts there, the people are bound to notice.”

  Graeme had already considered that. “You will stay with her.” Rhys inhaled sharply, about to protest. He beat him to it swiftly. “She needs sustenance. There is livestock at the village. Her thirst grows with each passing day. She must be fed.”

  “But the people -”

  “Will be none the wiser if things are done discreetly.”

  Rhys’ jaw clenched. “I hope you know what you are doing Graeme.”

  “This will work.”

  “And if it does not? What if her presence is discovered by the Scouts? Or the Hunters?”

  “Then head for the Grampian Pass.”

  Rhys face paled considerably. “Are you insane? No one has used that bridge in decades and for good reason.”

  Graeme stood and rested a heavy hand on his shoulder. “You are an exceptional general, and an even better friend. It is imperative you do everything in your power to secure her life. When the battle is over, I will find you.”

  Rhys nodded understanding and hesitated before turning away. Graeme exhaled heavily and strode through the doorway that led into the main hall. There was a light tension in the atmosphere, as if all of the men and women who went about their tasks suspected his intent. Still, they knew that something monumental was happening. Why else would the Scouts be guarding the stronghold so viciously? Why else would they work so tirelessly night and day to ensure that the outer walls were secured, and the entrance of the inner gate was thoroughly reinforced? The muscle in his jaw ticked several times before he ventured into the yard. The sun sank low in the western sky, caught between the wintry haze of steel blue skies and the dusky horizon.

  The air had lost some of its sting, a testament that spring would soon come. The journey that was required of Amarinda was a treacherous one, especially given her present condition. Still, there was no one short of himself he trusted more than Rhys. With each passing day he grew restless. The vampires would attack soon. They would brave suicide and attempt to breech the stone walls of the fortress…and he would have to explain to the masses why. Graeme was not fool enough to believe that there would be any consideration to be had if the truth were told. They would consider the mating a betrayal, and would kill them all. The thought of his offspring harmed caused an intangible ache somewhere in the center of his chest. Uncomfortably he rubbed the area and huffed, grieved that he must manipulate those that trusted him the most to protect his family.

  So caught up in thought he did not notice the man that approached until he was standing three feet away. Tall and stocky, Graeme’s brows furrowed as he tried to call into memory the stranger. He appeared to be as any other warrior – scared and weary. Still, his hands were fisted and his shoulders tense. The hackles on the back of his neck stood an end. The pair of deep set brown eyes that met his were not those of a Were. This man was human. And he was very afraid.

  “Who do you seek?”

  The stranger’s eyes darted this way and that before he dared to take another step. “Graeme.”

  “You’ve found him.” He swallowed with some difficulty and glanced over his shoulder. Graeme frowned and followed his gaze before shifting impatiently. “What is it that you want man?”

  “I’ve been asked to deliver a message for you, from the woman’s family.”

  Graeme nodded toward the hall in a gesture for him to follow. Enclosed once more in the privacy of the solar he turned to his guest abruptly. “I am listening.”

  The man shifted this way and that before finally scratching behind his head nervously. “Her father wants a meeting tonight – the witching hour at the same location as before.”

  Graeme studied him well, arms folded across the width of his chest. “Of what assurance can you give that this meeting will not be met with treachery?”

  He searched thoroughly in the pocket of his leather trousers and presented a heavy metal ring that boasted the Cronus seal in exquisite detail. Graeme held it tightly for a brief moment before turning aside.

  “What was the price for coming here?” he queried by the way.

  The man’s voice cracked only once. “That my family be spared.”

  Graeme grunted and nodded slowly. “Break bread with us tonight. You are safe here. Tomorrow you will return.”

  The messenger nodded and turned away anxiously before hustling out the room. Darkness descended in slow degrees. His thoughts were centered on what he must do tonight. There was the distinct possibility that he just might be walking into a trap. He turned away and studied the emblem in the fading sunlight. He would not be naive and put trust in the vampires’ gesture of goodwill. Decision made, he ventured into the dining room and gestured for the General to join him on the stair. Rhys opened his mouth to protest then shut it just as quickly when all was explained.

  “There was almost a blood-bath the last time,” he muttered instead. “I do not understand his need for secrecy. Why send the human when thus far they have been using their own emissaries? I do not like the scent of this.”

  Graeme nodded. “Nor do I. But I am curious, and if they are focused on the meeting, we shall take the opportunity to move her tonight.”

  Rhys’ sigh resonated in the still air. “It is a trap.”

  “I shall be well prepared for such.”

  The man nodded and stiffened, his face a mask of determination. “If you insist that you must go, then let me accompany you.”

  Graeme laid a heavy hand on his shoulder and offered what could have passed as a smile. “You are entrusted with the most important part of this plan. If it is indeed a trap, and I have no doubt that it is, then she would be safe away from here and the hunters, if only until I can think of something more…permanent. Gather the men you trust. Tell them only what is necessary and have them await my summons at midnight. You
leave with her posthaste.”

  Rhys ground his teeth and turned away, his controlled fury matching the stubborn set of his shoulders. Graeme took the winding stairwell two at a time. He found her brushing the tangles out of her lustrous curls. She met his eyes in the mirror and her brows furrowed at the concern she read on his face. Slowly, the brush was laid aside.

  “Something is amiss.”

  He wasted no time on pleasantries. “Plans have been changed. You leave within the hour.”

  Stunned, she rose to her feet. His eyes fell to the swell of her stomach. Beneath the fall of fabric, the movement of the babe was prominent. “One night can hardly make a difference.”

  “War may be upon us. You need to travel while you can. Rhys will see you settled well, and will stay with you until I join you.”

  Concern shadowed her face. Her eyes scanned his features for several long moments, looking for more detail than he offered. The determined set of his jaw convinced her. She nodded compliance and turned to gather the thick furs that were littered across the bed. The slight tremble of her hand was not lost to his sharp eyes. “You will kill many of them…my family…”

  He heard the pitch of her voice and moved to stand behind her. “They come for you. I cannot let that happen. They will kill every man, woman and child within these walls and raze the castle to the ground. It is my duty to protect what belongs to me.”

  “The horde belonged to you before I did.” Her broken whisper was met with tears. Graeme clenched his jaw impatiently. “So many lives will be lost…because of my decision to stay.”

  “It was not my decision to be mated to a vampire, but here you are.” He threaded his fingers through her hair and studied her face thoroughly. “I do what I must.”

  “And the horde? The women? The children?”

  “The women and children will be taken through the glen and to the coast. There is another village there.” Her eyes fell and she shuddered unwillingly. “Do not be concerned Amarinda.”

  “You ask the impossible. I do not know to whom my loyalty should belong. You will kill many of my people… my brother, my uncles…and for that I should hate you. And if you die…” She hiccupped and pulled the fur across her shoulders. The tightening of his chest forced that unwanted ache in the region of his heart once more, and he grunted something non-committal before heading toward the door.

  “Your loyalty belongs to me,” he announced stiffly. The hinges creaked ever so gently. “Do not forget that.”

  She lifted her head and met his stubborn stare before allowing him to escort her out of the room, the first time she had left it’s confinement since her capture those many months ago.

  Chapter Twelve

  Thunderclouds formed a thick canopy, hiding the luminance of the moon. In the inky darkness of the forest the Weres heard the thunder of hoof beats long before the rider was spotted, guiding the mount with a careless ease that forced a suspicious frown upon Graeme’s brow. Fully clad in armor, complete with helmet and visor, there was no doubt that their visitor was indeed a vampire. The scent of putrid flesh made his nostrils flare. Even from his distance, he noted that the Hunter was small, no bigger than a teenage lad. His men did not make to move, but awaited his instruction. They were a precaution in the event that the meeting was not as honorable as was intended. Thus far, no other sound could be heard. He motioned for them to stand down and out of sight before stepping into the clearing. Upon spotting him the Hunter reigned in swiftly. The horse reared and danced beneath the tense grip that was applied to the reigns. Graeme studied the man well, his eyes flaming orange in the darkness, gaze sly.

  “You are not the one called Macer,” he announced smoothly. “For your deceit alone I should have you killed.”

  The soft gasp that was elicited forced him to pause. His gaze fell suddenly to the slender legs that were parted wide to accommodate the width of the saddle and the tiny foot in the stirrup. Suspicion and disbelief forced his feet to move. His sudden motion spooked the mount and it reared. The rider cried out in surprise and clutched onto the animal’s neck to prevent being thrown. Graeme snagged the bridle and steadied the beast swiftly before all but dragging the rider from the saddle. Even as he felt the light weight in his arms he knew. The moment he tore the helmet away, he stopped breathing in rage.

  A female!

  Fingers as hard as steel sank themselves into her arms and lifted her off the ground. “What form of treachery is this?!”

  Hot tears stung her eyes, and even in his rage he seemed to recognize the title of her nose and the shape of her face. Slowly, carefully, he put her away from his form and took a cautious step back. His eyes swept the woods and he motioned to the Weres that surrounded him to search the area.

  “You…” he began, hesitating as he considered the moisture in her eyes. Thick red hair crowned her head and fell to the dip of her back. Her skin was timeless, her eyes fringed with thick lashes. She was a stunning beauty to be sure…and she bore a striking resemblance to Amarinda. “You are her sister?”

  She shook her head quickly. When she spoke, it was with a husky voice that betrayed the years her face did not show. “Her mother.”

  Confusion marked his face then, and he clenched his jaw in anger. “You sent the missive. Why? If your mate discovers that you have come here there will be mass murder!”

  “I am here to help you.”

  Exasperated, he shook his head in finality. “Get on your horse and ride back to the Coven woman! You were a fool to come here!”

  “I will gladly die a fool to protect my daughter!”

  “Your daughter does not need protection from me!” he snarled. The guttural baritone of his voice forced her to whimper, but she stiffened her spine and met his gaze head on.

  “I am well aware of that. Now if you will just get a hold of your temper for a moment I will explain why I have lured you here falsely.” He turned away, his shoulders taut. “The Council has convened. All has been decided.” When he said nothing, she continued. “The Hunters have already left the Covens. They come from the north.”

  He turned to meet her wide eyes and held his breath. “North?” he croaked thickly. “Tis impossible. There is nothing north but highlands and rock. Nowhere to hide from the sun. They will never make it.”

  “They left two days ago, keeping to the river where the soil is moist and easy to dig.” Stunned, he shook his head, panic rising in his chest. If what she said was to be believed, they would cross paths with Rhys and Amarinda. He would die, and she would be taken. The heavy breaths he sucked in burned his lungs fiercely. Still, she continued. “You need to get her away from the castle this very moment. I will accompany her to wherever you desire her to go until my husband comes for me, and until you come for her.”

  A chilled wind blew and whipped the length of hair in his face, masking the pain that twisted his features. “She left this very evening to a village hidden in the hills…to the north.”

  The woman choked on her spittle and was at his side in a flash, her eyes large and imploring. “My husband, my son, they will do anything you ask to help you save her....”

  He moved quickly now, taking hold of the mount and leading it to where she stood.

  “I will give my life for hers.”

  She shuddered. Instinctively, he tore the fur from his back and draped it around her shoulders. She paused and considered him in the darkness before allowing him to assist her to mount. “Tell your mate it would be wise to join the ranks in the event that I am cut down in battle.” She nodded and made to kick the mount into a gallop, but he held the bridle sure. “And you will give me your word that the babe growing within her belly will be protected.”

  Another bout of tears swamped her eyes and she nodded quickly. “I swear it.” Her reply seemed to have satisfied him, for he retrieved the helmet and presented it to her. At his back and gestured for two of his men. “See that she is delivered safely. She is under my protection.”

  He did not wait
to see his orders carried out, but turned to the path that lead to the castle and whistled for his mount. The horse cantered toward him and snickered at his warm touch. The first drop of rain splashed upon his face, but he did not feel the icy chill and penetrated deep in the pores of his skin, nor did he feel the hesitance of his men as they accompanied him on his vicious ride to the stronghold. The only thing he felt slowly icing over the pulse in his chest was unmasked fear for his family.

  ****

  Rhys stoked the fire and wished for the hundredth time that night for her to shut up. Incessantly she talked, about her family, about Graeme, about the babe. He had ceased to respond a long while now, hoping she would get the idea that he had no interest in sharing conversation. The lass was dense, to be sure. Even if she were not a vampire, he could not see how any man in his right mind might be attracted to such.

  “How long before we get there?” she inquired for the third time. He cut her a cold glance and clenched his jaw even tighter. She frowned and sank herself deeper into the furs. “It is cold. Could you not make a bigger fire?”

  “Good God woman, do you always talk this much?” he snapped irritably.

  She cut him a smile that spoke volumes and forced him to turn back to the fire. Deliberately, he tossed in another log. The embers scattered this way and that. She hissed as a tiny flame touched her skin and shot him a murderous glance. It was his turn to look snide.

  “Are you always this pleasant?” she inquired sweetly, rubbing a finger over the sting. “It leaves me with no doubt as to why you are not mated.”

  “It matters not to me your opinion vampire.”

  “My name is Amarinda,” she enlightened flippantly. “You say vampire as if it’s a curse.”

  He snorted an agreement and offered nothing more. When all of ten seconds passed, she spoke again. “Tell me of Graeme then, since he seems to be in both our interest.”

  For a moment he considered refusing, but his heavy shoulders shrugged instead. “He is a good man, a feared Were – a respected one.”