He reached out and took the sealed letter being offered up to him. “The Ibianese king?”
“Get it to the palace and tell them it is from me. It is of utmost importance that Marique receive that,” Betram replied, clasping his hands together before his chest. “Please, it is the last thing I will ask of you.”
Etras gave him a smile and tucked the letter away. “It is a small thing to ask.”
The old man beamed and nodded in gratitude.
Etras turned his attention toward Keiran. “Take care of him until he can be returned, yes?”
“He’s in good company,” Keiran replied, nodding. “I think I can handle his care and feeding for a little while. I will send a messenger to you before too long, so we can stay in contact until this is dealt with.”
Etras gave Keiran a smile and turned to get on his horse. “Don’t take too long, my friend.”
* * *
Three men lay dead on the floor, a fourth backed against the sealed doors of Athan’s throne room. The vampire stood before him, his chest heaving in his fury. After watching his peers literally ripped in half by the vampire, the guard stood paralyzed with terror, tears rolling down his cheeks. His legs went weak beneath him, and he slid down the doors, collapsing to his knees.
Athan forced up an empty smile, taking a step closer to the man. “One more time. Tell me exactly what happened.”
“She went up onto the wall like she often does,” he whimpered, crossing his arms before him, turning his head away. “We didn’t think much of it. I went up to tell her to get down and she made that God-awful scream before jumping off and gliding away over the forest!”
“And there was no one else you saw?” Athan asked, already knowing the answer from having pried into the minds of this man and the others he’d already dispatched.
“No one! We saw no one! She headed south! I sent a team out to try and find her, but sight of her was quickly lost as she moved into the distance!” He brought his teary eyes up toward Athan, shaking his head.
The vampire rolled his head back against his shoulder before his hand snapped out and he grabbed the man’s hair, roughly jerking him back up to his feet. “Why was Sabetha not locked in her room as I ordered her to remain while I was gone?”
“She was!” he screamed, grabbing Athan’s wrist to try and take the pressure from his hair, his feet barely touching the floor. “I swear we didn’t let her out!”
Athan tensed his jaw and squinted before quickly throwing the man to the side. His neck was snapped from the force, and he hit the wall on the opposite side of the room causing his skull to shatter, a deep red splash left after his body crumpled to the floor.
The vampire didn’t turn to admire his work. The doors before him opened, and he stepped out and headed up to Sabetha’s vacant room.
Once inside, he stood in the center of the space, scanning around for any clues where she might have headed. With Baden missing, only to have returned to visit the harpy, he had every reason to believe that his rogue son had played a part in her disappearance.
Without Sabetha, however, Athan was literally blind as to what was happening beyond his fortress’ walls. Without knowing where to begin his search, it would take ages to scour the world to find them.
He moved toward her pile of broken glass shards, seeing a uniquely blue one on top of the mess. Athan reached out and picked it up, narrowing his eyes. He brought it to his nose and sniffed it before licking it outright.
It smelled faintly of Baden and tasted of sea salt.
He dropped the shard and shook his head. It was a hopelessly broad starting point and could have simply been collected by his son during his travels.
However, Baden had most certainly been involved in Sabetha’s disappearance. The playing field with the rest of the world had just been leveled by the loss of Sabetha’s gifts, and Athan was certain he didn’t like it.
Chapter 10
The castle was absolutely silent. Sygian waited in the entry hall near the doors to the courtyard. His fellow knights manning the gate would allow the few not employed within the building in before much longer. Nervous tension twisted in his stomach. If he opened the door to Peirte’s room and found something within…
He shook off the thought, knowing it would do him no good to get worked up before the others arrived. Besides, he didn’t honestly believe there would be anything inside.
The doors opened, ten other men slipping into the entry hall. Nothing was said amongst them as they each silently counted their ranks, making certain everyone had arrived. With a single wave of his hand, Sygian signaled the others to follow him as he turned toward the servant’s wing. They would use the stairs there to avoid passing before the king’s door.
They emerged on the second floor, not far from the previous grand councillor’s room. The passageway was dark, a scant amount of moonlight making its way in through the small windows lining the corridor.
One of the men moved forward, a small leather pouch in his hands. He knelt down and pulled a set of picks from his bag and got to work, deftly opening the lock. Once done, he got up and moved to the others, giving a nod to indicate his success.
Sygian was outright nauseated. He went to the door, feeling a level of anxiety he’d not known in a long time. Even entertaining Mother Thinliss’ request felt like betrayal.
He drew his sword, for all the good it would do if Peirte was on the other side, but it offered him some level of comfort. Sygian closed his eyes and said a quick prayer before pushing against the latch, feeling the door ease forward.
Another man had a lantern in hand, and he pulled a leather shroud off of it, so they would have light once the door was opened.
The door continued to drift inward, uneven on its hinges. The man with the lantern lifted it up, but there was already light within the room, a single candle burning in the middle of the bare floor.
Sygian stopped breathing, realizing he was looking right at Peirte’s up-lit form. “No, God, no…”
Peirte lofted a brow, his stringy hair hanging in his face. “I was wondering how long it would take you fools to show up.”
Sygian snapped the fingers of his free hand, telling the others crowding in behind him what they needed to know. Half of them pushed into the small room, standing shoulder to shoulder before the door, the others in the hallway doing much the same to prevent any escape.
The room brightened, multiple other candles within igniting, allowing the Church Knights a clear and unobstructed view of Peirte Methaius.
The new grand councillor stared right into the eyes of the old one, his sword wavering before him. There was a lump in his throat, his painful heartbreak evident in his expression. “Peirte, you must come with us.”
He scoffed, stretching his arms out to his sides. “You are nothing to me. Did you honestly think Keiran promoted you to my place because you were qualified? He picked you because you were naive! You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, Sygian. It would be in your best interest for you and your friends to go back through that door right now and forget what you’ve seen here.”
Sygian felt the others draw in closer to him, helping boost his courage. “We will do no such thing. You will either come with us peacefully, or we will take you down by force.”
Peirte brought his hands closer together, a point of sickly green light manifesting between them. “I will annihilate the lot of you, and the Church Knights will cease to be!”
Not knowing what sort of magic the madman was capable of, Sygian gave another signal to his companions. They needed to attack before the old grand councillor conjured up something horrific.
* * *
Keiran sat up in bed, glancing at Thana beside him with the kitten curled up asleep on her chest. He then scanned over toward Zach, seeing him also soundly out in his crib.
He slid his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, going closer to the door. He heard voices outside, but it didn’t sound terribly close. However, s
omething didn’t feel right to him and he quickly pulled on some pants and a shirt before slipping out of the room.
* * *
Sygian went forward and swung his sword at Peirte. The old councillor parted his hands, encapsulating himself in the green light he’d initially produced.
Sygian’s sword struck the invisible barrier and bounced back, his attack completely ineffectual. “What is this?”
Peirte gave a toothy smile, his hawk nose wrinkling. “Honestly, Sygian, do you think you are going to actually do something to me? I didn’t get to be this age by leaving myself vulnerable!”
Sygian raised his sword for another strike, but he halted, hearing voices in the hall outside of the room. Though he wanted to turn and look, he didn’t dare take his attention from Peirte. However, he’d definitely heard Keiran’s voice.
The vampire found himself facing the five Church Knights who’d remained in the hallway. The fact they all had their swords drawn and pointed at him didn’t sit well.
“What in the hell is this?” he asked.
“You are under arrest, King Keiran,” one of the men said.
Keiran looked him over. It was the sheriff from Tordan Lea. “What are you talking about? For what?”
“Please surrender without a fight,” the sheriff replied, using his free hand to unhook a set of irons from his belt.
Keiran’s fangs appeared, rage washing over him in short order. He didn’t want to hurt these men. There had to be a reason they were there, though he didn’t know what it could be. He hadn’t brought his sword with him, but he was almost glad for it. He scanned the group, looking for Sygian, confident they had to be Church Knights.
“Sygian! What is this?” Keiran called out, seeing more men inside Peirte’s abandoned room.
The councillor turned his head to the side upon hearing his name.
Peirte saw his opening and he swept a hand forward, the shield momentarily dropping, an unseen force slinging Sygian backward. He was thrown through the men amassed behind him and out into the corridor. He hit the wall beside where Keiran stood, collapsing to a heap immediately afterward.
Keiran’s eyes went wide, and he fell to his knees, seeing Sygian bloodied and dazed from the impact. He turned his head back toward the doorway, the path between he and Peirte left cleared in Sygian’s wake.
Peirte gave another wicked smile, fixing his sights onto the vampire. “They’ve come for us, Keiran. Between the two of us, however, it should be no great matter.”
Keiran was torn between trying to help Sygian and rushing in to attack Peirte. He saw that his new grand councillor was still breathing, and he rose to his feet, clenching his fists at his sides.
“What level of hell did you crawl up from?” Keiran asked, taking a step forward.
The men still between Peirte and Keiran did their best to close ranks. Those within the room again faced Peirte, the others in the hallway wielding their blades toward the vampire.
Peirte repeated his previous action, another man being hurled through the doorway and out into the corridor, knocking down the sheriff and another man in the process.
Keiran saw his opening and raced forward, managing to get into the room with Peirte. He felt one of the men actually graze a blade down his back, but he could tell it was a superficial cut and nothing that would stop him.
Peirte shook his head and put up his shield again, Keiran coming to an abrupt stop before him. “Now you’ll pretend you didn’t know I was here!”
The vampire bared his fangs and reached out a hand, feeling the solid nature of the green barrier before him. “How is this possible?”
The men still standing all pushed into the room, doing their best to keep Keiran and Peirte contained. They didn’t advance, not knowing what other magic Peirte had in store for them, nor knowing what Keiran would do now that he was cornered.
One of the knights remaining was a member of the Royal Guard. He shook his head and frowned. “Mother Thinliss told us Peirte was still alive and that you were in collusion with him. We didn’t want to believe it…”
Keiran glanced back at the knights before looking at Peirte again. “Mother Thinliss…”
“Come on, Keiran, let us finish them off and be done with it!” Peirte said, fixing his gaze on the vampire.
“You’re not Peirte!” Keiran narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “You’re nothing more than another of Adreth Thinliss’ illusions!”
Peirte’s thin lips twisted up into a sneer. “So this is how it is going to be? You’re going to deny me now to try and save yourself? I always knew you were a coward and untrustworthy!”
“Show yourself, Adreth, no more of this!” Keiran demanded, slamming a fist against the translucent shield.
“The leader of the church a magic user? Do you honestly think these men are foolish enough to believe that?” Peirte said with a laugh, shaking his head. “Even if they did, Keiran, what are they going to do to me?”
Sygian had regained consciousness, his entire body in pain from his earlier impact with the wall. He limped forward, pushing his way to the front of the Church Knights. There was a terrible ringing in his ears, but he was able to make out the words being spoken.
“Peirte,” Sygian said, pressing his free hand against one of his temples, the other still clutching his sword. “If you are who you claim… What…what did you always call Turis Lee behind his back?”
Peirte’s brow furrowed, his mouth pulling down into a frown. “This isn’t the time, Sygian.”
Keiran quirked a brow, looking at his new grand councillor before turning his attention back toward Peirte. “Actually, that is a great question. What did you always call my father when he wasn’t around to hear it?”
Peirte’s scowl deepened, his focus landing back on Keiran. “We don’t have time for these games! Do it, Keiran! You can take out all of these wretched, self-righteous Church Knights! Think of all the blood for you!”
Keiran glanced back, meeting Sygian’s gaze. The old man gave a nearly imperceptible nod toward the vampire. His faith in Keiran had been restored.
The vampire gave a hidden but relieved smile before turning back toward Peirte. “Adreth, you should have known this wasn’t going to work.”
The shield again came down as Peirte moved to throw forward another wave of force, but Keiran was far quicker than anyone in the room could have anticipated. The moment the green wall before him flickered, he rushed forward and tackled Peirte back onto the stone floor.
Keiran straddled Peirte’s chest, his hands cinched down around his bird-like neck. He gripped with all of his strength, his own face going red from the amount of energy he put into it.
Peirte’s hands came up and grasped Keiran’s wrists, but they absolutely didn’t feel like Peirte’s hands, nor did they produce the strength he should have fought back with. No, the grip was piteously weak. While Peirte had been far from a strapping physical specimen, his hold should have been more forceful.
“Drop the illusion!” Keiran growled out between his teeth, lifting Peirte’s torso up a few inches before slamming him back against the floor, his strength amplified by his anger and adrenaline.
Peirte’s form twisted and writhed. He became Athan, his teal eyes going bloodshot from the pressure around his neck.
Keiran refused to give into his instinct to recoil, only grunting before again lifting and slamming his opponent to the floor tiles with every bit of his strength.
There was an audible crack as the back of Adreth’s skull fractured against the stone floor. Her illusion faltered. For a moment, she looked as she always had, but that quickly gave way to something far worse.
Keiran’s hands loosened around her neck. Though it still looked vaguely like Adreth Thinliss, she no longer appeared to be a woman in her sixties. In fact, she looked to be far, far older.
He leaned down closer to her face, searching her aged-clouded eyes. “What in the hell are you, Adreth?”
Her mind swam, blood vess
els starting to leak within her ancient brain. She gasped for a breath as Keiran’s hold relaxed. “My name is Isuelt!”
“Isuelt? Peirte had her killed,” Keiran said, still holding her in place. His grip eased up even more, instinctive mercy toward such a frail being welling up within him.
“His mob killed someone that night, but it wasn’t me!” she hissed out, her feeble hands doing their best to dig her thickened, yellow nails into his skin. “They killed my sister!”
Keiran saw blood dripping back from her ears, the scent of it traveling up to meet him. After months of being denied what his body demanded, his instincts were crushing in on him harder than they had since his assassination. He started to shake, not wanting the men behind him to see what he was going to do.
“I bet there’s a reason they mistook your little sister for the old crone you already were,” Keiran said back.
Isuelt simply gave a leering grin.
“You’re a monster,” he whispered, seeing the focus in her cataract-riddled eyes starting to wander. He’d fatally wounded her, and she would be gone within minutes.
Sygian turned to face the other knights, shaking his head. He feared them seeing what he sensed Keiran was about to do, and he waved at them. “Get out! We have been lied to! Go!”
Though they were reluctant to leave, there were several of them injured who needed help. There was a grumbling amongst them, but they filtered out of the room. Sygian was the eldest, and he had to be obeyed.
Sygian grabbed the edge of the door as the last of them cleared it and threw it shut, keeping his back toward Keiran. Shame washed over him for his momentary doubt. “They are gone, we are alone.”
Keiran realized what Sygian was doing, and he quickly leaned forward, sinking his teeth into the side of Isuelt’s emaciated neck. Her brittle skin crackled as he bit through it. With her blood pressure deathly low, the rush of blood wasn’t great, but it didn’t deter Keiran in the least. He remained huddled over her, drawing all that he could as her life force faded out.
The King's Knight (Royal Blood Book 5) Page 29