Ayrion’s face must have betrayed his thoughts, for Kira’s eyes narrowed. She took two steps forward and punched him square in the jaw. The force of the impact spun him around, nearly causing him to go to one knee.
“Don’t you dare look at me with pity!” she hollered. “I’m not ashamed of who I am or what I’ve done. I did it to survive. Look at me! I’m the Warrens’ Chieftain! Me! Little ol’ Kira. I didn’t need you after all. I got here all on my own, so don’t you look at me with those self-righteous eyes. You think you’re better than me because you rub shoulders with the king, or live at the palace, or walk around town with soft, blonde-headed tarts like this? Well, you’re not, Ayrion, you’re not!”
By this time, she was panting and her entire body trembled with anger.
“You’re right, Kira,” he said, licking the blood from his mouth. He was tempted to spit it across her white rug, but decided against it. “I don’t know what you’ve been through. I’m sure I can’t imagine. Probably don’t want to. If there was a way I could go back and do it over, I would. You, Po, and Reevie were as close to me as any family.” He paused a moment to take a breath and let his words sink in. “I’m sorry, Kira, truly.”
Kira’s shoulders stiffened as she turned away from his gaze. “Curse you, Ayrion. You always did have a slick tongue in that beautiful mouth of yours.”
Amarysia kept her eyes on the Clan Chief. Ayrion could see she was uncomfortable having to listen to Kira’s overt declaration of past feelings.
Ayrion glanced around the room once more and it occurred to him that someone was missing. “Speaking of Reevie, where is he?”
The name brought Kira up short. She kept her back to him, staring into the flames as if searching for the answer hidden amongst the burning timbers.
She accepted a glass of wine from Po and turned back around. “That’s why you’re here.” The look in her eyes wasn’t lustful, or even vengeful, but contemplative, as if she was trying to decide whether or not she had made the right decision in bringing him down to talk.
“What’s wrong?”
She took a long swallow. After wiping her mouth, she laid the glass on top of a two-drawer cabinet used for nothing more than holding her serving trays. There were quite a few.
“He’s missing.”
Ayrion’s chest tightened. His thoughts immediately drifted to the small clumsy kid with the gimp leg and big heart that had taken him in so many years ago, the one who had saved his life more times than he could recall. It was Reevie who had shown him how to survive on the streets when he had first arrived in Aramoor as a child. It was Reevie who had shared with him his hidey hole under The Granary, who had kept him fed as he taught Ayrion how to maneuver within the seedier segments of the enormous city.
“What do you mean he’s missing?”
Kira looked at Po and then back at him. “Now I know I don’t speak all highfalutin’ like little miss prim and proper here, but I thought I was pretty clear in what I said. Do I need to spell it out for you? He . . . Is . . . Missing,” she said, punctuating each word. “No longer among us. Completely unreachable. Vanished from sight and—”
“Alright, I get the picture.” Aryion was getting frustrated. He wanted to know what had happened to his childhood friend, not listen to her livid ravings.
Kira shook her head and regarded him with a cool, speculative glare. “You know, Po, I think maybe we made a mistake. He’s not the same Ayri we used to know. He’s been . . . civilized.”
Po’s demeanor darkened as he spat a mouthful of red wine at the fire and watched the flames react. “This was a waste of time.” Part of the burgundy liquid landed on one of the closer rugs.
“Watch it, Po!” Kira backhanded him in the chest. “I just had those furs cleaned.” Her scowl brought some soberness back to his eyes.
Po went back to refilling his glass. “I told you this was going to be a waste of time.”
Kira turned back around to look at Ayrion. “Yeah, maybe you were right. He’s clearly lost his spark.”
Aryion’s brow tightened in frustration. “Just tell me what happened. Was he taken by a rival clan?”
Po wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “No. Well, we’re not sure. He disappeared around the same time that the vanishings started.”
“Vanishings?”
Kira paced across the room, her face cut in shadow. “The last anyone saw of him was four nights ago near the upper docks between Bayside and King’s Way West. He was looking for a group of street kids that had gone missing the night before. You know how sentimental Reevie is toward the street rats.”
Ayrion could almost picture it—Reevie with his gimp leg limping through the streets, helping children where he could. His eyes almost misted as a wave of memories washed across his mind.
“I know that look, Kira.” Ayrion could tell by the way she was striding back and forth in front of her long sofa that she had something on her mind. “You have your suspicions. What aren’t you telling me?”
Dropping onto the cushions, Kira let one of her legs dangle from the end. “There’s been talk about people disappearing. No one knows what happens to them, at least not for sure. We’ve heard rumors of masked men roaming the streets at night and rounding up the homeless from some of the outer districts, mainly the ones closest to the water. Until now, we’d figured it was just some of the wharf rats down by the waterfront complaining about not getting enough help with the coming frost, but there’s even been talk of seeing them in the Warrens now.”
“So you think whoever is taking these people is responsible for Reevie?”
Kira nodded.
“I don’t mean to be blunt, but what exactly is it you think I can do? This is the Warrens we’re talking about. It’s not like I can just walk around and interrogate people. I wouldn’t last long enough for Po there to finish his drink.”
“He’s got that right, Red.”
Kira flipped around to where both her feet were now planted firmly on the rug in front of her. “I don’t need you here in the Warrens. I need you talking to the king. These are his citizens after all. They’re his responsibility.”
Ayrion nearly laughed. “Are they? The clans have made it pretty clear that apart from bringing an army down here, no one is going to enact any kind of justice over the Warrens. You pride yourselves on living outside the law, doing whatever you want regardless of how it affects everyone else. And yet now, when you need something, you kidnap me at knife point and demand that it is somehow my responsibility to take care of it?” Ayrion’s eyes narrowed. “I think you have sadly misjudged the situation, Kira, if you think I’m going to bow to your whim just because you have managed to crawl your way to the top of the food chain down here.”
Kira was on her feet before Ayrion could bat an eye. A knife appeared from one of her sleeves. “I’m not ashamed of what I’ve had to do to survive!” Ayrion could feel the cold anger behind her gaze. “I did what was needed, and now look at me,” she said as she gestured with her knife to the lushness of her living quarters, “chieftain to the Warren clans.” Kira pointed her dagger at him. “You’ll either swear right here and now to go to the king, or you and your hussy will never leave the Warrens again.”
Ayrion took her at her word and readied himself. He pulled down on the manacles, nearly forcing his shoulder joints out. He couldn’t believe how much Kira had changed. By the look in her eyes, he had no doubt she would make good on her threat, but he wasn’t sure how far she would go if pushed. And he needed to push her. He needed to force her to let her emotions take control just for a moment.
“You’ll find I’m not so easy to push, Kira. Unlike the rest of those you surround yourself with, a wag from your skinny tail is hardly going to tempt me to do anything.”
“Ahh!” She rushed him. Ayrion knew he had crossed the line that time and smiled as he drew her in. He waited until her momentum couldn’t be stopped before he acted.
Dropping to the ground, Ayrion curled into a ba
ll and rolled backwards. The tight positioning of his body allowed him to bring his arms down and around his lower half. He quickly tucked his legs through the manacles and brought his arms back out to the front. Continuing the roll, he pushed off with his hands and landed on his feet in time to meet her head on.
Using the manacles as a weapon, he wrapped them around her knife hand as she thrust it toward his gut before dropping once more to the floor in order to throw her over his head.
Kira was so surprised by the attack she didn’t even have time to scream as her momentum carried her completely over Ayrion where she landed with a heavy thump across one of her bearskin rugs. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs, and her knife clattered to a stop near the door.
Ayrion was on top of her before she had time to turn over.
Po dropped his glass in shock, pouring the remainder of his drink across the front of his tunic as he reached for the closest available weapon, Ayrion’s blade.
“Touch it and you lose your chief,” Ayrion said as he kept a firm lock on Kira’s neck with his iron bindings.
Po froze.
“He’s bluffing, you idiot.”
“You want to test that theory?” Ayrion had no intention of hurting Kira, of course, but he knew the way Po felt about her would keep him from forcing Ayrion’s bluff. Po had always been smitten with Kira, even as kids. He had just never been bold enough to admit it.
“Amarysia, can you be so good as to get Kira’s knife for me, please?” Ayrion watched as she walked over to the door and dropped to her knees. With her hands still bound behind her, Amarysia had to plop down onto her backside for better leverage. Curling her fingers around the handle, she rocked herself back to her knees and then to her feet. She crossed the room and laid the dagger in the palm of his bound hand.
Ayrion stood and brought a reluctant Kira up with him. He kept the dagger close to her throat. “Now for the keys, Po.” Aryion moved behind her in order to keep her between Po and himself.
“You better kill me,” Kira threatened, “‘cause if I ever get out of here, Ayrion, I’m coming after you.”
Ayrion lowered his head and whispered into her ear. “Then I guess it will feel like old times, won’t it.”
His chuckle produced an irritated grunt from her.
Po laid the sword back against the hearth and reluctantly started forward.
“That’s close enough,” Ayrion said when Po got within a couple of steps. “Now toss Kira the keys.” Po obeyed. Ayrion tightened his grip around Kira’s neck, gently prodding her to unlock the cuffs. As soon as the metal bracelets hit the ground, he moved her back a few steps in the direction of the door and away from Po’s reach.
“Now what?” Kira asked.
“Now, I want you to uncuff Amarysia.”
Ayrion took the loose manacles that had been around Amarysia’s wrists and placed them on Kira’s.
“Po, do me a favor and walk over to Kira’s bed, will you please?”
“Well, seeing as how you asked me so nice and all,” he grumbled before slowly making his way over to the left side of her large overstuffed mattress.
“Now turn down the sheets.”
“What?”
“You heard me, turn down the sheets.” Kira squirmed with irritation at the sight of Po dressing down her bedding. “Alright, that’s good. Now let’s get you tucked in for the night, shall we.”
“What?”
“Am I stuttering? I said get in her bed.”
“Don’t you dare get in my bed, you dirty oaf!” Po stopped with one leg halfway under what appeared to be silk coverings.
Ayrion pressed the knife a little tighter against Kira’s neck, putting a temporary halt to her tongue. Tapping his foot, he nodded for Po to finish climbing in.
“Wonderful,” Ayrion said. “Now, I don’t know what kind of uncivilized behavior you’re used to down here, but somehow, I doubt you sleep fully clothed.”
Po’s eyes widened.
“That’s right. Take them off.”
“But, but I’ll be . . . naked.”
“Nothing gets by you, does it?”
“You get naked in my sheets and I’ll skin you alive, right after I cut you somewhere very unpleasant,” Kira hissed.
“Now now, Kira, what kind of hospitality is that to offer an old friend.”
Amarysia giggled but quickly stifled it with her hand when Kira glanced her way.
Everyone watched while Po stripped, careful to keep the blankets and furs high enough to stave off any embarrassment.
“Come on, Ayri, is this really necessary?” Po tossed out the last of his undergarments and tucked the sheets under his arms. “It’s a bit chilly in here.”
“Why did you have him do that?” Amarysia asked.
“To keep him otherwise occupied. Now grab his clothes. We’re going to take them with us.”
“Ayri, have a heart. You wouldn’t walk off and leave me here in nothing but my skin, would you?”
“They’ll be returned in good order, I promise. If not, I’ll get you a new set.” Amarysia walked over and grabbed Po’s clothing, holding them out for Ayrion to inspect. “Phew.” Ayrion wrinkled his nose. “By the smell of them, you could use a new set anyway.” Pulling Kira over to the fireplace, Ayrion retrieved his swords. He replaced one of them in its sheath on his back and kept the other out to ensure Kira’s cooperation. After handing Kira’s dagger to Amarysia, he instructed her to use the shackles to bind Kira’s hands behind her back.
“This is what’s going to happen. We are going to walk out of here the same way we came in, except this time, instead of Po leading us out, it will be Kira who kindly volunteers. After her little threat of us never leaving here again, I don’t plan on taking any chances. Once we are safely out of the Warrens and back on our way to the palace, I promise to let you go. I don’t take kindly to being kidnapped and threatened, and nearly stabbed to death for speaking the truth.”
“But what about Reevie!” Kira snapped. “I need your help to find him.”
“See, now was that really so difficult?”
Kira gritted her teeth and huffed.
“You know I’d do anything for Reevie. For that matter, I’d do anything for any one of you. But,” he said, taking a deep breath, “as a word of caution, next time, try asking first. It’ll save us all an unwelcome headache.”
Ayrion kept the blade close to Kira’s throat. “Now, let’s just hope your men out there love you as much as I do.”
He pointed Kira toward the door and the waiting guards on the other side.
“Now move.”
Chapter 42 | Ayrion
AYRION KEPT HIS sword to Kira’s throat as they approached the door.
He knocked once and then glanced back at the bed. “Po, it really was good to see you again. Hopefully next time it will be under . . . better circumstances.”
Po grimaced.
Kira’s door opened. The guards standing in the hallway saw their chief with a blade to her throat and quickly drew their weapons.
“Tell them to drop their swords and take off their boots.”
Kira sneered but obeyed. “Do as he says.”
Ayrion had them toss their boots inside her room. “Now I want you to drop your trousers.”
No one moved. Questioning looks were exchanged as they tried to determine whether or not he was serious.
“Do you have some kind of aversion to clothes?” Kira asked. “I don’t remember you being so exciting when we were younger.” She playfully rubbed her body up against his. “You want mine as well?”
Ayrion tightened his grip on her arm. “Just tell them.”
Kira rolled her eyes. “Do it!”
Once her guards had undressed down to their smallclothes, they escorted Ayrion, Kira, and Amarysia back to the main room.
As they stepped through the outer archway and into the main gathering hall, there was an abrupt outburst of laughter at the sight of a parade of half-naked men. The
hilarity of it all continued until Kira stepped through at the edge of a blade. Suddenly, everyone was on their feet with weapons pulled and eyes drawn.
“What’s the meaning of this?” one of the larger men at the front demanded. By his colorful dress and demeanor, he was no doubt one of the clan heads. Ayrion knew this was an all or nothing situation. Either they respected Kira’s position as chief and let them pass, or they wouldn’t, and this was going to get real ugly real fast. He knew he was a match for anyone in the room, but with this many hardened cutthroats all in one place, there was no way he could fight his way out and manage to keep Amarysia alive in the process.
“I would think the meaning should be fairly obvious.”
Amarysia grabbed his shoulder and whispered in his ear. “I don’t think it would be wise to poke a hornet’s nest while we’re standing in the middle of it.” Unlike Amarysia, Ayrion knew these weren’t the type of men and women you tried to placate. What they respected was strength.
Ayrion smiled, ignoring Amarysia’s warning. “But for those of you who are incapable of comprehending the meaning of my sword to your chief’s neck, I will try to speak slowly. I am planning on walking out of here the same way I walked in—unharmed.” Ayrion scanned the room. “Did everyone catch my meaning?” He slid his blade up a little higher on her neck, forcing Kira’s back to stiffen all the more.
She snarled. “Do as he says!” It was clear that even under the disadvantage of being used as a human shield, Kira was still maintaining the illusion of control. In her position that was a luxury she couldn’t afford to lose.
Ayrion and the two women slowly started across the room. The large circular door on the far side was still a ways off. Amarysia pressed as close as she could while making their way through the wall of angry, well-armed clansmen. Ayrion continued to scan the faces of those they passed, watching for the first sign of aggression. He knew the next few steps were going to be the determining factor in whether they made it out alive.
The White Tower (The Aldoran Chronicles: Book 1) Page 34