The Lord of Frake's Peak (The Bastard Cadre Book 4)

by Lee Carlon

  “Good, good,” Marlan said.

  Obdurin said, “It’s naive to expect things to go as we plan them, but I understand your situation, and I would like to hear your proposal formally. I’m also interested to know what guarantees there are of peace.”

  Lord Marlan nodded. “You will. Valan and Warwick will be here soon, we will discuss it together.”

  Obdurin nodded. “You didn’t have to come here on your own. I appreciate the gesture.”

  “Enough of that,” Marlan waved Obdurin’s words away. “It’s hard enough when politics comes to call without you being all…” Marlan looked around as though searching for the right word. His simulation had been in the room when the fighting had occurred, and through it, he must have witnessed the violence, but he paled at the sight of the bodies around the room. He asked, “Are any of your people injured?”

  “We were not as unprepared as Warwick expected,” Lord Obdurin said.

  “Warwick,” Marlan muttered. “Let’s move into another room.” He walked to a door that hadn’t been used by Warwick’s troops in the attack and wasn’t blocked with corpses. He pushed it open. Ethan approached with a glance in Marlan’s direction.

  Marlan nodded, and said, “Go ahead.”

  Ethan entered the room, and Lord Marlan and Lord Obdurin stood patiently waiting.

  Pete stood off to one side watching Marlan’s dimin wistfully.

  Vincent went to warn him quietly, but before he said anything Pete asked, “Can you imagine?”

  “I’m trying not to. They’re dimin,” Vincent said.

  “Aye. But what a way to go,” Pete said.

  Fahlim joined them. “Pete, I’d say you’re a credit to your species, but I really have no idea what species you belong to. I have never tested it, but I’m willing to bet the seduction only goes so far, and that is to say not nearly far enough.”

  “I reckon it might be worth testing. There’s not a lot else worth living for,” Pete said. “Damn Cleansing saw to that.”

  “Dim-witted mortal,” Fahlim said. “I find it hard to believe I was ever like you, but I suppose at one time my mortal reproductive drive might have been strong enough to make it possible. Though, it’s incredibly foolish. Even if the seduction is consummated and the appropriate genetic material exchanged, a dimin is unlikely to make a fitting mother for your offspring, even if they are capable of producing.”

  “Ha, listen to you with your fancy words,” Pete said. “Reproductive drive. Genetic material. Give me a break. A man’s role in all this is to sow his seeds far and wide. It don’t matter which ones take root, but the wider they’ve spread, the greater the chances that some will sprout roots.”

  Ethan emerged from the room and nodded at Lord Obdurin without a word.

  “The point, Peter dear, is that there would be no more sowing of any kind after furrowing this particular… Oh my, farming metaphors. Never mind, you know even immortals occasionally fear wasting their time. Pete, you should introduce yourself to the dimin. I admit to a certain curiosity.” Fahlim followed Lord Obdurin into the next room.

  Surprised, Vincent watched Fahlim go. When he glanced at Pete, the other man winked at him and whispered, “Fahlim ain’t as clever as he thinks.”

  “And you’re not as dumb as he thinks?” Vincent asked.

  “Fuck you, Green.” Pete walked away, readjusting the strap on his laser-cutter as he went.

  Vincent shrugged then followed his burly companion.

  Two of Siaveen’s bondsan stood to either side of the door collecting weapons from Obdurin’s people.

  Pete handed his weapons over without complaint.

  One of the women guarding the door said, “All of them.”

  Pete grinned and produced a dagger from his right boot.

  “All of them,” the woman repeated.

  Pete reached into his left cuff and handed over another blade. “Can’t blame me for trying.”

  “Lord Marlan has the throne room surrounded. There is no possibility of a repeat attack. Your Lord is protected,” the bondsan replied.

  “Aye, but who’ll protect him from himself?” Pete asked as he passed into the room.

  Vincent handed over his weapons and entered the room. Obdurin better know what he’s doing.

  Lord Obdurin and Lord Marlan had already taken seats on opposite sides of a long narrow conference table with a surface that shone like black glass. Two of Marlan’s dimin stood behind their Lord in positions Vincent associated with Lord Obdurin’s dimin, Thwart and Sunder. A third dimin stood at the opposite end of the large, mostly empty conference room. Vincent saw the fourth dimin standing by the door he’d just entered. She smiled at his nervous expression, and Vincent’s blood turned to ice.

  Unsure how to respond, he settled for nodding sternly at the dimin and advanced into the conference room. Looking around he swore under his breath, there was only one way in or out.

  Siaveen’s cadre had taken up position along the back wall behind Lord Obdurin. Vincent reminded himself that Siaveen could have killed Obdurin during the fight in the throne room, but she hadn’t. He trusted Gordon’s judgment, but it was hard to rely on Siaveen or her bondsan. If things went wrong, it would be up to him to get Obdurin out alive.

  Ethan caught Vincent’s eye from where he stood beside Lord Obdurin. Vincent returned Ethan’s look with a nod. He understood.

  A cadre of bondsan filed into the room and took up position along the wall behind Lord Marlan. The cadre was comprised of straight-backed, dark haired men in their late twenties. They looked across the room at Siaveen’s cadre, and Vincent thought he saw a trace of discomfort on their features. Siaveen, however, looked as stoic as ever.

  He wished Gordon’s cadre was still with them. Hardly able to believe it, he wished Ulri’s cadre was still with them too.

  Father’s favorite attack dogs, Vincent thought. Ulri’s cadre is not suited to this type of mission, but then, he conceded, none of us are. Obdurin had intended to sneak into Turintar and take Lord Marlan by surprise, but the coastal Lord had surprised him. Vincent didn’t know what Lord Obdurin’s plans for Marlan had been. Had he planned to have Lord Marlan killed to clear the way for a new Chosen in Turintar? Is that why Walden was there? Vincent didn’t think so. Fahlim had said that Walden would attempt to wrestle Maiten’s heart from Lord Rarick in Damar.

  Who then? If Obdurin had planned to replace Marlan who did he plan to replace him with? Certainly not Pete, even if Obdurin had said as much earlier. He couldn’t imagine Ethan wanting the role or Obdurin wanting Fahlim for the role. Corsari? Vincent thought she’d be a dangerous choice.

  Who then, would take Marlan’s place?

  A sudden chill tickled his shoulders and neck, and he looked at Fahlim. The immortal had told Vincent if he ever decided to embrace his kinship with the Gods he hoped Vincent would think of him as a friend.

  I am not my father. I will not take a God’s heart.

  Lord Marlan didn’t look like much. An overweight man approaching the end of his middle years, but people didn’t become Chosen by accident, and they didn’t remain Chosen with luck alone. Vincent had been raised too close to Rhysin to consciously want to bind himself to a God, but most people didn’t have his insight. For most people, becoming a Chosen was considered the highest office they could attain.

  Remembering Pete had refused to attack Marlan and take Turin’s heart, Vincent looked at Pete and wondered, What makes him so different?

  There were depths to that man that Vincent couldn’t fathom.

  If Obdurin turns this around and needs somebody to take Turin’s heart, he will have to look elsewhere.

  From behind, somebody shoved Vincent to one side. He almost skimmed, but restrained himself and turned.

  Warwick!

  11

  The Cost of Peace

  Warwick was as brutish in the flesh as his simulation had been. He was already past Vincent by the time Vincent turned, arrogant or oblivious to any danger Vinc
ent represented. Valan followed Warwick. Valan met Vincent’s gaze as he passed and inclined his head in a silent apology for his companion, but the gesture lacked sincerity.

  Vincent went to stand with Fahlim and watch the room. If he needed to evacuate Lord Obdurin, he’d be ready.

  Warwick demanded of Marlan, “Have you seen it out there?”

  “Of course,” Marlan replied, unfazed. “I had to pass through my throne room to get here.”

  “Did you see my men?” Warwick demanded.

  “I did.”

  “Why do we persist in this?” Warwick pointed across the table at Lord Obdurin.

  The dimin flanking Lord Marlan changed positions to put themselves between their Lord and Warwick.

  Warwick continued, “Obdurin should be dead. Instead your throne room looks like an abattoir.”

  One of Lord Marlan’s bondsan stepped into Warwick’s path. Warwick tried to shove the bondsan out of his way, but the bondsan deftly turned Warwick’s lunge and the bigger man’s own strength against him and sent him stumbling aside.

  Warwick reached for his sword, but Marlan’s angry voice stayed his hand.

  “You are a guest in this house. I extend my hospitality to you, but I will not tolerate rudeness.”

  “Rudeness?” Warwick stayed where he was, suddenly aware of the bondsan and the dimin. “I could have had him killed and taken Rhysin’s heart. All of this would be done now.”

  Obdurin sat quietly on his side of the table watching the confrontation unfold. Looking at him, Vincent thought he might have been watching a play put on for his amusement.

  “We agreed to do it this way,” Marlan said.

  Warwick started to speak again, but Marlan continued, “How would you have taken Rhysin’s heart?”

  “As soon as he and his company were dead I would have gone into the throne room and taken it.”

  “It would have been too late,” Marlan said.

  “Too late? What are you talking about?”

  “One of your men would have taken it. Probably the man who killed Lord Obdurin. If you are to become a Chosen, you must hold the knife yourself.” Lord Marlan glanced at Lord Obdurin and said, “Sorry.”

  “No, please continue. This is quite educating,” Obdurin said.

  “My men were loyal,” Warwick said.

  “Do you think their loyalty to you was stronger than Rhysin’s will?” Marlan asked.

  “They were loyal to me,” Warwick insisted. “And now they’re dead. Your bitch could have ended it all if you were serious about our alliance.”

  “We agreed to do it this way,” Marlan shouted for the first time. “Siaveen did as she said she would.”

  Warwick sneered, “Rarick will hear of this. When he is done in Rhyne, he will send his men here. He does not take kindly to betrayal.”

  “I betrayed no one,” Marlan said.

  “She must have killed men. They couldn’t have defeated my men without her aide.”

  Marlan stood up from his seat, his face red with fury. The dimin who had placed themselves between Marlan and Warwick, glided forward, smiling at Warwick with their arms coming up to embrace him.

  Warwick stiffened, and his rage evaporated. He stepped back, but a row of bondsan prevented his retreat. He put a hand on the hilt of his sword, and the dimin giggled as though at a lover’s invitation.

  Siaveen stepped forward and spoke in a clear voice. “I betrayed the alliance between Turintar and Damar.”

  The dimin stopped where they were, but they didn’t take their eyes from Warwick. Vincent thought they looked hungry and he pitied Warwick.

  Marlan paled at his bondsan’s words. “Siaveen, this is not necessary. Please, do not—”

  “I am sorry, Lord,” Siaveen said. “I did not intend to fail you, but I allowed my feelings for Gordon Chi’Obdurin Bondsan to interfere with my judgment. Please don’t jeopardize this alliance to protect me and my cadre. I accept full responsibility for our actions.”

  Warwick’s anger had given way to fear before the dimin, and now it gave way to relief. “The alliance holds,” he said, his tone remarkably certain, surrounded, as he was, by bondsan and dimin.

  Marlan looked at him. He considered for a moment, uncertainty playing out across his features, but then the dimin glided back from Warwick and Marlan’s features hardened. “The alliance holds,” he said. “Despite what my bondsan says, responsibility for her actions still falls to me, and I formally apologize for risking the alliance.”

  Warwick nodded. “Threats to the alliance cannot be tolerated.”

  Marlan returned Warwick’s nod, and in a voice as smooth as silk said, “Agreed. We must all adhere to the terms of the alliance and follow the course set out for today. If we can do that, the alliance will continue to hold.”

  “Your bondsan and her cadre must be punished,” Warwick said, his anger returning with the dimin’s retreat.

  “I will see to it after today’s proceedings,” Marlan said.

  “No,” Warwick said. “Her presence here cannot be tolerated any longer.”

  Lord Obdurin said, “I have need of her still, and I do not release her from the oath she swore.”

  “It’s not up to you, old man,” Warwick said.

  “Siaveen is not the only person to have threatened the alliance today. Your men also risked the alliance when they attacked Lord Obdurin’s party in the throne room,” Marlan said.

  “Yes,” Warwick agreed, “but my men are all dead.”

  “I shall see to it,” Marlan said.

  “Execution,” Warwick said. “For her to live is a constant reminder of the threat she poses to the alliance. She has betrayed it once, she will no doubt do it again if given the chance.”

  Before Marlan could respond, Siaveen said, “I accept the punishment. I ask only that I be allowed to choose my executioner.”

  “Your cadre’s executioner,” Warwick corrected.

  The hard line of Siaveen’s mouth twitched in her only reaction to the words. “My cadre’s executioners.”

  “No, Siaveen,” Marlan said. “This—”

  “I am afraid she is right,” Valan said. “Lord, your loyalty to your people is admirable, but you must not let it interfere today. Too much is at stake.”

  Siaveen stepped forward until she was next to Lord Obdurin’s seat. “Lord, I ask that Gordon Chi’Obdurin Bondsan be allowed to act as my executioner?”

  Obdurin raised a hand to rub his mouth and beard as though in thought, but from where Vincent stood, he saw a small, impressed smile behind Obdurin’s hand.

  Lord Obdurin nodded his consent, and Siaveen stepped back into position.

  Warwick looked angry and was about to say something, but Valan said, “It’s settled then.”

  Marlan and Warwick glanced at each other and then at Lord Obdurin who returned their looks without giving anything away.

  Vincent whispered to Fahlim, “Why does Obdurin look so pleased? Did Siaveen just switch sides?”

  “No. She couldn’t even if she wanted to, but I suspect she wants Warwick to believe she did. She is still very much serving Lord Marlan’s interests. Let’s hope Warwick doesn’t figure it out. Obdurin is pleased because Siaveen is so very clever. Gordon will refuse to do it.”

  Warwick and Marlan took their seats, but it was clear they were both dissatisfied.

  Lord Obdurin smiled and said, “You’re looking well father.”

  Valan nodded politely and said, “Thank you.”

  “Father?” Warwick demanded, standing up again.

  Valan looked at his companion with a slightly puzzled expression on his face. “Yes. It’s not widely known, but I assume Lord Rarick told you about this. It’s one of the reasons I’m here. I understand Obdurin better than most people.”

  Warwick stared at Valan for a moment without speaking.

  Watching the confrontation unfold, Vincent whispered to Fahlim, “How can he be Obdurin’s father?”

  Fahlim whispered back,
“In the usual way I imagine. Valan is like me. Well, not entirely like me, he gives me the shivers, but you get the idea.”

  They’re nothing like each other,” Vincent said.

  “I assume Obdurin gets his looks from his mother,” Fahlim said. “They might not look alike, but they share some traits.”

  Valan said, “Your brother knows about this. It’s not something to concern yourself with.”

  Vincent whispered, “Immortals can have children?”

  “Of course,” Fahlim said. “Though in my experience, the evolutionary forces that drive such desires dry up when the question of one’s own genes continuing to exist indefinitely is resolved.”

  Vincent whispered, “People don’t have children to preserve their genes.”

  “Really? Why do they do it?”

  Warwick finally spoke, “If this is a trick, you won’t get away with it.”

  “Not a trick,” Valan said. “Lord Rarick is far too clever to fall for any of my tricks.”

  Warwick folded his thick arms across his chest.

  Vincent told Fahlim, “For love. People have children for love.”

  Fahlim chuckled and patted Vincent on the shoulder. “Oh, I do like you, Vincent. You’re so refreshingly naive.”

  At the table, Lord Obdurin continued as if the confrontation between Valan and Warwick hadn’t occurred. “How old are you now, father?” Vincent thought his use of the word father was very deliberate.

  “What does it matter? I was born many, many moons ago. I feel like I’m thirty,” Valan said.

  “You look closer to forty,” Obdurin said irritably.

  Valan shrugged. “What does it matter?”

  Vincent asked Fahlim, “Do you think everybody is that selfish?”

  “Excuse me. I think that’s my queue. For all of Obdurin’s virtues, he has one or two peculiar blind-spots.” Fahlim advanced on the conference table and asked Valan, “What are you?”

  Valan sighed, then said, “There are more pressing issues to be resolved here today.”