Duntar was really starting to sweat and he was easing his way towards the closed door. But Callisandra was a little slower on the uptake. He thought for a moment and looked confused. But it finally hit him like a load of concrete. I could see his expression grow grimmer and I could see a visible tick under the glamour, which began to waver.
He made an effort, I’ll give him that. He hesitated and considered shooting but I guess that wasn’t visceral enough for him. He needed to get his hands dirty. He flung the crossbow aside and came at me with his claws. I would describe them as nails, but that really didn’t do them justice. They were more like talons. He was trying to rip my face up and while I would never be a beauty, I certainly didn’t think his version of plastic surgery would make things better. I threw myself backward and rolled. His claws missed my face and tore into my back. My back burned as his claws ripped through the cloak and dug deep into the skin, raking furrows into my flesh. He was so intent on flaying me that he didn’t see Duntar charging him. I’m not sure why he did that. But I certainly appreciated the distraction.
“We need him alive, damn it! We have to have something to trade!” Duntar shouted and put his shoulder right into his hip. He didn’t stop or slow. It was like he was trying to move right through him. Duntar’s charge caught him right at hip level and I thought I heard a crack or maybe a pop and Jeryn Callisandra went down hard. He had to be pretty tough because all he did was grunt and shout. Unfortunately all I heard him say was “Kill them all!” as the Duntar rolled past him.
For a moment, nobody moved, but then things began happening all at once. The gaurds began aiming and to my surprise so did Duntar, but not at me. He was fast, damn fast as a dagger flew from towards a guard. I didn’t have time to look because I was moving myself but I heard a gurgle behind me and the sound of a falling body from above.
I got to my feet and began running as hard and as fast as I could. I hoped that being a moving target would not only attract fire but make it harder for that fire to land. Something pulled at my cloak, a bolt I supposed, but it didn’t hit me. The next one buried itself in my arm, pinning that now useless limb to my chest. It hurt. A lot. My chest was burning and I knew the quarrel head had passed through my arm and into my body. But those two shots bought me enough time. By shooting me, they had lost their best chance of hitting Dalia.
It wasn’t pretty, but it was damned effective. I was staggering as I finally reached her and tried to pull her to her feet. But it was a no go. I needed to get her and myself to cover but they had tied her to a damn chair and she couldn’t move. So I did the only thing I could do to buy her a little time. I collapsed on her, pulled the chair with her.
The chair couldn’t take the combined weight of the two of us and shattered, but she was still tied and couldn’t move. Worse, she couldn’t see and didn’t know who I was and she was struggling to get out from under me.
All I had to time to say before another bolt struck me was “Dalia! Lay still. It’s gonna be okay!” This bolt was in my lower back and the edges of my vision began to go gray and black, but I held on. I didn’t know it at the time, but that bolt had shredded one of my kidneys and lodged in my liver. I just knew I was bleeding bad inside and figured it was a mortal wound. I didn’t want to die here but it would be worth it if I could save Dalia. She was family. I couldn’t lose her too.
The world looked strange. I could see Jeryn Callisandra trying to crawl towards me, his useless leg dragging after him. The world sounded funny. Distant, like when you’re dreaming. But this was a bad one. A saw another guard go down, I’m not really sure why, but I think it was Duntar who killed him.
It was about that time that the door of the barn blew inward and the splinters flew through the air. The passed over those of us who were prone and it looked like they couldn’t get through the Black Watch armor that Duntar wore but they were hell on the last guard. I could hear the sound of combat outside and I knew that my father had come for me. I just hoped I could last till he got here to save her, because Callisandra was getting pretty close and I couldn’t move. I tried, I told my arms to move but the damn things just grasped Dalia closer, the blood from wounds soaking her clothes.
As I looked at Callisandra crawling ever closer I saw a pair of boots. Callisandra looked up, his mouth frothing with rage and I saw a knife slam through the air pinning his arm to the floor. I can’t be sure, because things were blurry, but it looked like to me that he would have to amputate his own hand to get free. He screamed in pain and thrashed around, probably doing more damage to his pinned wrist.
The boots walked closer. Through the mist of my blurred vision I thought I could see Duntar’s face. The dwarf leaned closer.
“Just remember, I could have killed you, I could have killed both of you if I wanted to, but I didn’t.” I heard screams outside the barn and more explosions as Callisandra’s men fought their attackers. I grunted.
“Yeah, You and I know it wasn’t no act of charity, this just wasn’t his day or mine” he said pointing to Callisandra. “Now I gotta go before some mighty pissed off bastards from my old outfit show and decide to retire me permanently. If we meet again-“ he thought about it for a moment as trying to decide what to say. He shrugged “Well, just hope we don’t meet again.” He pulled his helmet on the bastard turned invisible. That Black Watch armor was damn handy. My eyes were already unfocused so I could see a shape moving through the darkness and the door beyond and he was gone.
I’m not sure how long I lay there, bleeding to death. It felt like hours, but it was probably only a few minutes. My sense of time was badly confused. A shadow blocked the doorway and I realized that it had gotten quiet for the most part. I could still hear Callisandra screaming and I could feel Dalia struggling underneath, trying to push my dead weight off her, but she just didn’t enough brute strength or leverage.
I had thought the shape in the door was father but even in my current state, I could see that it was too big for that. Sergeant Angel Bermuda came closed flanked by two big constables who were sweeping the barn with careful cop eyes, which I noticed had started to burn in a few spots.
“Ah, Mr. Underwood! I see you are somewhat worse for wear. You really should have met with me. It would have made things so much easier.” He sighed. “Ah well, nothing for it now I suppose. I really hate to do this, but you are under arrest for a long list of infractions. But we can wait on the charges until after the medics have seen to you and your cousin, who you appear to have bled all over in a rather shameful manner.”
I wanted to punch that half troll right in the kisser but the best I could do at present was a rather non-menacing gurgle and frothy blood stained sputter. Thankfully, I realized that I was about to die and that he would never get to press those charges, but at least Dalia would live. I quit fighting to stay awake and let the blackness around me claim me. It was probably the best decision I made all day.
Chapter Thirty-One
Waking up was painful and unavoidable. At first there were lights and I could feel a tingling in my back. At least I wasn’t in pain anymore. I thought at first that I was dead and that this was a just really crappy afterlife. Then they moved me and the pain came back. While that didn’t rule out the crappy afterlife theory, the fact that it went away made me doubt it. Eventually, despite my herculean efforts to stay comatose, I woke up.
The first thing I noticed was that I couldn’t move anything except my head. I was in a softly lit room with what looked like muslin or gauze shears moving in a gentle warm breeze. Even though I had only been there once, I recognized that I was in my father’s house, in that secure room where I had waited for a tailor and a healer. Since I wasn’t dead, I assumed that I was once again under the care of a healer.
I heard a sound and a soft voice that said “He’s awake. Get Kralisch. Hurry!” The voice was familiar and in few moments I worked out that it belonged to Dalia. I think that more than anything helped restore my thoughts to better working order. She was alive
. Despite the way I felt I was probably alive as well. We had survived.
A Fey that I recognized as the same one who had tended my wounds when I first arrived was quickly hovering over me and I could hear him mumbling some kind of ritual. I could see a faint red nimbus around his hands and I immediately felt more alert and refreshed. I tried to move, with no success, and started to question him but discovered that he was aware of my questions before I could even start.
“You can’t move. I placed a neural block to keep you from re-injuring yourself. You sir, are an awful patient and thrash about far too much. As soon as I finish my examination and I am convinced that you can’t do any more damage to yourself, I’ll take it off so you can move if you have to. But I suggest that you do as little of that as possible. I had to grow a new kidney in situ and the damage to your liver was severe. I suspect exsanguination was quite close. Your wounds are all closed now and beginning to heal. You wouldn’t be conscious if you hadn’t recovered enough reserves to do so but strenuous activity is out of the question for the next few months. Your wounds took a lot of effort to heal and I would hate to see you undo all my hard work. I was thinking about doing an article on you for my fellow healers because we had to use some very difficult rituals to save you and I had to invent a few new wrinkles to make it work but Lord Delbarra convinced me that it would be best to keep the whole affair quiet. I certainly hope that you appreciate all the hard work I did in keeping you alive and won’t do anything ungrateful like die.”
All the while he was talking I could hear people coming into the room and while his lecture about what a crappy patient I am were mostly lost on me I could appreciate the list of wounds and cause of my near death. I watched the halo around his hands flicker in color from red through the spectrum to blue. He then placed his hands on either side of my head and chanted something I couldn’t quite hear. I heard or felt a sharp click in my skull and suddenly I could move again. Apparently, I had been straining to do so because as soon as the block was released I raised half way up from my prone position. It didn’t take and I fell backwards and coughed.
“There! That is exactly the kind of impetuousness I am talking about! No quick movements. Slow and easy.” He said as he helped lower me back down. It took him a few moments to bring me to a sitting position and his look was scornful and disdainful. He might be a hell of a Doc but his bedside manner was awful.
My voice was hoarse and low from disuse. “That’s a neat trick, that neural block thing. Can you teach me that? It would be awfully handy at times.” I said with as cocky a grin as I could muster on my lips.
“Yes, certainly,” he said “after about a hundred and thirty years of studying and heaven knows much improvement in your craft training; I can teach you how to do that.” He smirked. I have never been sure whether it was mortal doctors or fey ones that were more annoying. I guess it’s a pointless debate because they are all arrogant bastards. “Now, if you are through trying my patience, I have other patients to see.” A pun. He made a lousy pun and then sauntered off.
Now that I was sitting I could see that I actually had several visitors. My father was there. He looked concerned and a little haggard but he seemed relieved. This look was mirrored on Dalia’s face. You could see a hint of strain here and there relief, I supposed, by my consciousness. I could see another Fey lord there who I didn’t recognize and the resolute Sergeant Bermuda.
“Didn’t you arrest me? I’m pretty sure I remember being arrested.” I tried to raise my arms with my hands together, as if to await the cuffs but it hurt so much I decided to save that gesture for another day when I felt better.
“Ah. Yes, well that was necessary. As my prisoner I was able to take certain liberties that allowed me to get you taken care of in an expedited and private fashion. I couldn’t risk you ending up in a public house of healing. Besides, Lord Delbarra insisted.” He gestured at the Fey lord who stood and bowed at his name. I couldn’t place him at first but it gradually dawned on me that there was only one Lord Delbarra that could possible issue instructions to Sergeant Angel Bermuda and that was Lord Greyson Delbara, the Head of the Court of Dawn’s intelligence service but more commonly known as the Hidden Watchers, although no one believes that they just watch.
Lord Delbara was an older and thin fey. He also looked like he didn’t get out very much. His physical presence said dusty cubicle just as I was sure he probably didn’t actually sit in one. Curious how one of the most powerful men, save the Emperor, was so unassuming. There was hardly any blood dripping down his chin and I couldn’t see any fangs.
“Yes, I did indeed insist.” Lord Delbara confirmed. “While I know that you have done nothing personally to violate court security or break the Compact, you have gotten caught up in events that do. It is vitally important that we…discuss the situation and arrive at an agreement.”
“What is vitally important is that he heal from the wounds that he suffered putting right the mess you made!” I hadn’t known my father long enough to judge his moods, but he seemed pretty pissed to me.
“I agree completely. But I just wanted to impress on him how important discretion in this matter is. I ask that you discuss the events of the past week with no one who is currently not in this room. Knowledge of this incident must be contained as much as possible. I will be happy to answer any of your questions, but I am due at court to brief the emperor on the incident and your condition. We can talk later when you are rested and I am further along in unraveling what went wrong. Your father vouches for you, that is enough for me, for now. I will let your father bring you up to date on events that you may have missed.” Lord Delbara gave a slight bow to me and my father and left, trailing Sergeant Bermuda behind him. I was alone with Dalia and my Father.
“Are you alright? I asked Dalia, “Were you hurt?”
“No. Thanks to you I am well and alive and currently in the custody of my grand uncle, your father.“ Dalia looked happy and I was glad for her.
“Custody? Are you under arrest too?”
“No. It is protective custody. It appears that I am wanted by the Twilight Order for questioning. I am willing to go, but your father and mine have decided that for know it is best for me to remain here.” She was quiet and seemed less animated than I remembered. My guess was that she found sanctuary with her mother’s family somewhat galling considering she couldn’t go home to her father.
“How long have I been out?” I was stiff and sore and not just from where I had been shot. My legs were cramped and didn’t seem have much strength in them and moving caused pain in all my joints.
“It has been three days, my son.”
“Hunh. It looks like I missed my Naming Day ceremony after all. But I suppose being shot twice and nearly dying is probably a good enough excuse to get it rescheduled. Given a choice between being shot and attending the ceremony, it’s a little bit of a toss up.” I smiled, but he didn’t and I knew something was up. Frankly, I didn’t have the patience to wait for them to let me know what was bothering them. I had a suspicion that I wasn’t going to like it.
“Don’t tell me that Jeryn Callisandra got away! He was pinned to the floor with a great damned knife!” I sat up straighter and immediately regretted it.
“No.” He assured me, “He was still there when Lord Delbara and Sergeant Bermuda arrived. But he is the crux of the problem. I have been told that its resolution is entirely in your hands as it involves our family and your word.” He was serious. Dahlia did say anything. She just glanced down and wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“Cryptic I don’t need, from either of you, so why don’t you just spill it.”
“He was captured easily and his wound treated. He wouldn’t say much of anything until we received a protest from the Court of Twilight demanding that Dalia and Jeryn be turned over to the ambassador. That got him talking. His vituperative tirades, blaming Dahlia for just about everything he could imagine, leads us to believe that he might not be entirely in command of his faculties. H
e also mentioned someone named Duntar in one his screeds, but wouldn’t say much about him. Do you know him?”
“Yeah. He was part of the same rouge Black Watch team that Serlisch was a part of. He claims that he was the only survivor of that team. He was smart and pretty ruthless, but damned likable in a smiling killer kind of way. He was there, in the barn, but the little bastard went invisible! I take it from your question, that he got away?”
“That is correct. They found no trace of him in the barn. If he was ex-Black Watch, that would explain it. Sergeant Bermuda was using men he requisitioned from the Sheriff’s office. It would be unlikely that they would find him, especially considering that they had other matters to concern themselves with, namely, your bleeding and dying body.” Neither of them said anything. And I felt vaugley embarrassed about getting shot. It makes no sense whatsoever, I know, but I felt like I had messed up by getting tagged.
“Did you hand him over yet? I still owe him a few things, but I guess that the Twilight Order can collect for me.” They would probably kill him. Strangled most likely, a traitor’s death and richly earned in my view. If they didn’t, he had committed enough crimes here to earn death, banishment at least.
“No, we are still holding him. Turning him over to the Twilight Order would go a long way towards clearing Dalia of anything other than a few bad decisions but there is a complication.” I sighed. Damn it to hell, nothing but complications on this case.
“What? What complications?” I restrained myself because I didn’t want another lecture from that healer if I reopened my wounds.
“I want you to stay calm when I tell you this.” My father moved closer to the bed. “He is offering a trade. He claims that if we let him go, effectively exile from the Bright Kingdom, then he will tell us the whereabouts of a mortal. Martin Obromowitz.”
Naming Day (Jake Underwood Book 1) Page 29