“I have no answer to that,” Jon admitted. The death mage looked down at the creature in his arms, curled as it was around his arm even Luthian would have to admit that it seemed a loving little thing in response to this Jon fellow.
“It’s because there is not one.” Luthian turned and moved to the edge of the opening. In the early rays of dawn, the scene before him held a surreal ominous feel. The red of the sunrise cast an eerie gloom through the wisps of fog snaking along the ground and through the air. The mountains above them towered over the small valley like leaning vultures, waiting to scoop up the remains of death below them. Off across the compound was the huge carcass of a black dragon impaled on the palisade with its back to the ground.
Luthian eyed the ground before him as he exited the cave. There were the marks of scuffling one would expect during a battle. There was blood here and there on the ground, nearby there was even a large pool as if someone had bled out. What was missing were the bodies. He could see the dragon fire scorched into the ground, and even the outline of a body where the ground beneath held no sign of fire.
He moved to the left as he left the cave. What he saw next brought to him to a puzzled stop. There in the midst of a path of acid bathed ground, there was a large clearing as if something had been there. It was too large to have been a man, had a dragon been in the path of the rain of acid? Why were there no bodies, no carcasses except for the one black dragon impaled upon the far palisade?
“Guardsman, have you ever heard of dragons carrying off their dead?” He looked back to Jon, eyeing the death mage evenly.
“I have not. Though to be honest, the only tales of dragons in battle I have heard are from the histories of the great wars.” Jon moved to the edge of the acid bathed ground. “Are we at the start of another?”
“I sincerely hope not,” the older mage answered coldly. Luthian knelt down, having spotted something on the ground within the strangely shaped unscathed space. “It cost the entire isle greatly. All races were bathed in the blood of their own.” He picked up a scrap of blue cloth. It held a bit of silver stitching. He had seen this stitching before. He had admired it in a cloak that his nephew had worn. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. He slid the piece of the cloth into his belt pouch as he rose.
Had his nephew turned against him through subversion? It would account for much of what he saw here, and had heard through the broken report. A strong storm mage, the blue tabard with a silver dragon, and even the swift incision that had happened here. Luthian tapped his lip thoughtfully as he looked about him. That did not account for the dragons that had obviously fought here. No mortal had held sway with dragons for as long as he could remember.
Luthian moved forward taking in the damage with quiet assessment. His accustomed eye to details picked up the way the ballistae were damaged with fire. The fire was not a natural start nor from dragon’s breath. They had been lit with oil, the smoking of the oil evident on the unburned wood. Whoever had been here, had known to assault the ballistae first. The dragons would have needed them out of the battle. He touched the blackened wood, sniffing the oily residue that came off on his fingers. The scent confirmed his suspicions of an accelerating oil.
He made his way to the dragon, eyeing it first from below. His softly spoken draconic words raised him from the ground till he hovered over the fallen dragon. The dragon had taken three solid blows, not accounting for those hidden from his view. The first had been with a fierce blow of lightning. The head showed signs of the zigzag lines burned into its scales, all of them originating from the mouth. A mage or dragon had landed a blow when the black behemoth had opened its mouth.
He eyed the wings, one had been burnt with fire, some of the burning moved over the lines of power from the head. A second or third blow then, he mused. He looked over the second wing. It also held signs of having been cooked, but not with fire. He looked closer, perhaps steam for the meat looked more boiled than cooked. He could not tell if it were due to three powerful mages, dragons, or some combination. He lowered himself to the ground where the guardsman waited.
“I must return to Silverport. Get yourself to safety and keep that beast hidden. I will expect to hear you have delivered it to the temple.” Luthian’s orders were swift and decisive. He began drawing a circle around himself in blue shimmering powder. Once he had completed the simple magical enclosure, he tossed Jon a small pouch who caught it deftly. “That will help you on your way.” The man saluted, turned on his heel and headed for the main gate.
Luthian cast the words and closed his eyes against the swirling images of color that rose up. There was always a sense of falling and though he had cast this spell many times, his stomach had never come to tolerate it. He bit back the bile as the sensation ended as quick as it had occurred. Luthian slowly opened his eyes, pulling a piece of jerky even as he did so. He was relieved to see his office once more. He tore off a piece even as he moved to stride across the floor. He was going calling before his nephew could secure any alibi.
Chapter Forty
Luthian did not knock as he strode into his nephew’s home. Strangely, the door was unlocked. He made his way straight for the library, being familiar with the layout having visited Henrick many times. He threw the door open and his eyes widened in surprise.
The room was in complete disarray. There were glasses partly filled and empty around the room, articles of clothing that would surely be noticed as missing were scattered about, and even plates of half eaten food. There had obviously been quite a few people here last evening.
A servant was cleaning and came to a halt with a tray full of plates and glasses, staring wide-eyed at the High Minister.
Luthian pulled off his gloves and tucked them into his belt. “Where, is my nephew?” he bit out tersely.
“He has not risen from his bed, milord. I would not disturb him as he had company joining it.” The servant stammered at the look Luthian gave him for suggesting that he not disturb Alador. The tray in the man’s hands trembled so hard that the glasses clinked against one another.
Radney stepped up beside Luthian. “Lord Guldalian. We were not expecting company so early this morning. May I get you a spot of tea while I notify the master that you have come calling?” Radney’s tone was smooth and even.
“Was my nephew here last night, all night?” Luthian demanded. He gave the servant his most angered glance.
Strangely, the man did not even swallow down his discomfort. “Oh yes, my lord. He held a grand affair last evening for those not wishing or those not invited to attend Lady Morana’s ball.” Radney grinned. “I assure you it was the most lurid affair and quite outdid any of his father’s gatherings, why even the trench lord attended.”
Luthian’s eyes narrowed. Much of what he had seen and found at the mine had hinted at his nephew’s involvement. “I see. And you are sure he attended the entire affair?” Luthian drew a bit of fire to his hand to emphasize his desire for truth.
Finally, the servant swallowed hard, and his eyes widened. “I took the last meal to his rooms which were quite occupied sir. He had more than one companion in his rooms for the evening. It is true, I swear it on the gods.”
Luthian slowing closed his hand, quenching the small ball of flame that it held bringing a look of relief to the servant’s face. “That is pleasing to hear.” Luthian switched to affable uncle with a nod and a smile. “I think I will say my good mornings unexpectedly.” Luthian turned on his heel and headed for the master suite. He knew this manor well. He strode up the stairs with the servant close to his heels.
“Lord Guldalian, Master Alador does not like to be disturbed before he first calls.” He added with a bit of panic.
“I do not care what my nephew likes or does not.” Luthian paused to turn and look down at the servant. As he surveyed him, it was clear the man had seen little sleep. “You had best hope for your sake that he is in there.” He was satisfied with Radney’s slight look of confusion.
Luthian threw open th
e door. The first thing he saw was Sordith sitting up, releasing a blade. He swiftly drew power to himself, holding out his hand to stop the offending knife. It stopped just an inch from his hands and dropped to the floor harmlessly.
“Really, Lord Sordith, trying to kill me is treason you know.” He said sarcastically as he took in the room. The Trench Lord was in Alador’s large bed and two alarmed young women had sat up with him. One of them was the wench, Keelee, who had disappeared on him weeks ago. Luthian growled slightly seeing her in Sordith’s arms, but he said nothing more as he assessed the room further. There were clothes everywhere. There was a mound on the bed to Sordith’s left. Surprisingly, two additional women were now sitting up from the foot of the bed. In addition, the room stank with the musk of unwashed bodies and sex.
Sordith shrugged casually and pulled the two women back against him as he scooted back against the pillows. “Shouldn’t go flying into rooms without knocking,” he pointed out. “Alador, you have company.” Sordith drawled out.
A voice grumbled out from beneath the blankets, “Tell whoever it is to come back later, my head hurts.”
A red head came out of the mound on that side of the bed, she was rubbing her eyes as she sat up. The blanket fell away to expose her breasts. Luthian took in the fact that she was a half-breed with a more Lerdenian look. As he assessed her, he had to admit that if Alador were really in that bed, he had taste in his bed companions. She was a fine specimen to look on even as a half breed. After a moment, he realized that she was the same woman he had caught Alador with when the boy had not been allowed to attend Luthian on his half day.
“Alador, it is your uncle.” The redhead shook the mound of blankets with appropriate concern, pulling the covers up over her breasts.
“Bugger, it is too early in the morning for people to come calling.” Alador complained as he peeked his head out, squinting against the morning light coming in through the windows. His eyes widened to see it was indeed his uncle.
Luthian’s eyes roved over his nephew’s face. The boy was pale and red eyed as one would be if awake till all hours of the night. The room held the hints of a great deal of alcohol. Had Alador really been here all night? He looked to Sordith with a pointed glance.
“Has my nephew been here all night?” Luthian demanded to know.
“Let me ask the ladies as I was busy at times and could not have cared less where your nephew was in my own moments of pleasure.” Sordith looked at the women at the foot of the bed then to the redhead pressed against Alador. “Has the lord of the house been present all night?”
The women, including the redhead all giggled and blushed at Sordith’s question. “Oh he proved himself quite present.” The blonde at the foot of the bed, who was totally unclothed and clearly comfortable with her lack of dress, had spoken up. “With three of us at one point,” the blonde at Alador’s feet eyed him with admiration. “None of us had reason to complain.”
Alador groaned and pulled the covers over his head. “Uncle, can this wait till later?”
“No, it cannot. I will wait in your antechamber while you discharge your guests to attend me. Do not make me wait, boy.” Luthian still felt that something was not quite right. He stormed across the bed chamber and through the door that led to the small office off it. He looked about for any anomalies. There was no sign of disturbance in this room, the obvious party had not overflowed into it.
He moved to the fireplace, bringing it to life with a flick of his wrist. The wood took hold with a roaring hiss in response to the small use of magic. Luthian was now puzzled. The hints of his nephew’s involvement were strong, and yet the evidence that he had been here all night was compelling. He stood staring into the blaze, considering what he knew while he waited. His thoughts flowed over the facts as the fire crackled and popped.
It took more time than Luthian would have liked for his nephew to step in through the door. He turned to watch the boy. Alador was clothed in a simple blue dressing gown tied at the waist with matching material. The boy had taken no time to set his hair to rights, and his face remained pale. His eyes betrayed the lack of sleep. Alador stumbled, bleary eyed, toward the table where a small assortment of drinks set waiting for his pleasure. Luthian said nothing as the mage poured two glasses and moved to him. He took the offered glass, watching Alador closely.
“Now Uncle, what is this about?” Alador drained half the glass, wincing slightly at the burn.
“The bloodmines were assaulted last night. I have reason to believe you were involved.” Luthian’s accusation hung between them.
Alador’s glass stilled on the way from his lips. “Me? I was here last evening,” his soft reply doing nothing to assuage Luthian’s suspicions.
Luthian’s answer was just as low and measured. “So it would seem.” He took a drink from the glass in his hand. “Yet we both know that things are not always what they seem?”
“There were many people who saw me last evening till I retired to my own chamber to seek my pleasures.” Alador sat down in a chair by the fire and looked up at his uncle without concern. “And as you heard, a few more the rest of the evening." He grinned at his uncle and toasted him.
Either the boy was very good, or he was innocent. Luthian wanted to believe the latter, but he had learned long ago not to underestimate those around him. He pulled the blue scrap out of his belt pouch and handed it to Alador.
“Recognize this?” He did not sit. He preferred standing over the boy to an equal representation that sitting would give.
Alador took it and casually fingered it. “It is much like my cloak,” he admitted with a shrug.
“Yes, odd that it is also the tabard worn by those that assaulted the mine.” Luthian pointed out almost too casually.
“Perhaps someone seeks to implicate me,” Alador handed it back up.
“Perhaps.” Luthian acknowledged as he set his glass down. “Let me make one thing clear, Alador.” Luthian leaned down with his hands on both sides of Alador’s chair. Their faces were very close. Alador did not flinch as Luthian would have liked, but he did drop his gaze in deference to him. “If I find out you had anything to do with the destruction of the bloodmine. You will wish for death many times over before I am done with you.”
Alador brought his gaze up slowly to meet Luthian’s. Luthian noted a moment of coldness in them. There it was, the sign that the boy was not as affable as he declared. Luthian knew at that moment that his nephew was not all he seemed yet again. The boy had learned to play the game, and Luthian suspected in places that he was excelling at it. The evidence of this party was but the beginning of the young mage’s rise to power.
“Then I have nothing to fear.” The young mage’s tone was as serious as Luthian’s had been.
“Oh lad, you are mistaken.” Luthian said then rose up to straighten his robes. “You have much to fear.” Luthian took a step back. He needed to plot a new course that would still get him the isle united and control this tool that he had created. The boy lived due to Luthian’s carefully manipulations of Daezun circles, he was not going to soon let him forget it.
Luthian turned to head for the second door out of the office. “I will expect to see you at the minister’s dinner tonight. All the heads of the cities will be attending. It is time you learned who needs to be removed, and who supports our cause.” Luthian looked back at Alador as he wagged a finger at him. “Do not fail me. My patience is thin and my suspicions still high.” He frowned, considering. “I think you and I will be spending a lot more time together now.” He stepped through the door, shutting it behind him. Better to keep the boy in sight, he thought, as he strode out of Alador’s manor home.
Alador let out a sigh of tension as his uncle closed the door. He poured another glass and headed back into his bedroom. Sordith, Keelee and Nemara were all that remained. He handed the glass to Sordith who grinned happily to see the drink. Alador moved to a window and stared blankly out it. The silence began to weigh heavy in the room.
“Well?” Nemara was the first to speak.
Alador held up his hand for them to wait then shielded the room before he answered. “He suspects, but has no proof. He had a bit of tabard, but there is no way to truly tie it to me.” He took a drink to still his pounding head. His mind was filled with Rena’s last breaths and words. He had to force himself to interact with the others.
Alador finally looked about the room. “I don’t remember you all coming in here?” He looked at Sordith in confusion. At least now his brother had on a pair of pants.
“Lad, you can sleep through the waking of the dead. The girls and I made sure the room was looking as it needed to for our ruse; you didn’t even moan at the noise.” Sordith chuckled. “I would have laid a bet the girls could have had a time with you and you wouldn’t have even responded.”
Alador flushed at the implications of what had been going on around him as he slept. He looked at Nemara. “You knew of this?”
Nemara grinned. “No worries, I never left your side. You were clinging hold of me so tightly that I dare not move. Again, I can tell you that the Trench Lord lives up to his reputation,” she teased lightly.
Alador shook his head not wishing to hear such things. He took a drink trying to force the events of the night far from his mind. His hand with the glass was shaking now that he could relax.
“I can sense that all did not go as you had hoped.” Sordith stepped up to Alador putting a concerned hand on his brother’s arm.
“We lost half those we took with us, I don’t know how many dragons were lost, but one I cared for died saving my life. But, the dragons were liberated and the eggs retrieved along with hatched young. So you could say we were successful.” Alador stared into the amber liquid in his glass.
Pseudo-Dragon (The Blue Dragon's Geas Book 4) Page 38