by JANRAE FRANK
For all of the brutal stupidity their father had displayed since his turning, Wrathscar's daughters had swiftly become among her most skilled and discreet allies. Galee had wondered why they had brought Karishee and Cadmean, but now she knew: the two lords had just joined the ranks of her supporters in a rather permanent fashion. Maybe she would make the young women compete for the right to turn their lover after the heir's wedding.
Mother,
I know there are issues between you and father, and between you and returning to Havensword. But please, come. I am so frightened. You tell me that a sinjin is supposed to be fearless, but I can't be. Three of my friends are dead. I'm afraid for father. If it wasn't for Ceejorn, I'd be totally lost. Please, please, please, come.
Isen
My child,
I will move the riders and the Netherguard closer still, although it means crossing two holdings. Be strong. I'm trying. But you cannot know how hard it is for me to even move in that direction. I feel like there are shackles upon my feet even to think about it.
Your mother.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
NIGHTMARES
Mohanja gradually took up more and more of his old duties watching over Takhalme as his leg mended and he could place more weight upon it. Sha scolded if she came home at night and discovered he had tired himself too much. She had moved in with him and it had been decades since they last lived together. How odd, he mused, that I find even her scolding satisfying where once it would have driven me to distraction. I finally understand – it's an expression of her love and worry, her caring for me. She only scolds those she loves. So, he had begun simply pulling her into his arms and kissing her. That shut her up every time.
He had gained wealth, power, position and honor – but all that it had brought him in the end was pain, suffering, loss and twenty years without Sha, having to watch her go about her duties each day without touching her. By my god, I am not losing every thing I have pledged my life to without a fight.
His leg pained him more that night and Sha had given him something to ease it enough to let him sleep. While he slept, his head shifted closer to the wall than usual, perhaps because of the drug allowing him greater movement, and he woke at the sound of the voice every one spoke of as the ghost come shivering up through the stones.
"Yaaahhhhnnnniiii! Tell them, Yahni. Beware the Master of Blood. Yaaaahhhhnnniiiiii!" Then a long wailing followed, finally breaking off into silence. Mohanja remembered the guardsmyn who had attacked him shouting to this creature called the "Master of Blood." A chill rushed over him, forcing him to rise. He rolled off the bed, trying not to wake Sha and limped from the bedroom. He lit a lamp in the study and went downstairs into the parlor where he sat at the table and waited for morning. I am going to Queiggy first and Eshraf second; I need to discover more about this Master of Blood and they are the ones to ask. As for the ghost of Belyla Wrathscar – that was no ghost he heard. She was chained up beneath the palace by her own kind. A trap hatching. But one who was also trying to warn them. We will get them, Belyla, and may Hadjys have mercy on your soul.
* * * *
Channadar listened from his couch in the Great Central Hall as Lord Wrathscar announced the betrothals of his three daughters from a platform that had been moved into the room earlier that day. Philomea was to wed Lord Westli, Knight-Commander of the City Guard; Elomina would marry Lord Karishee, whose lands bordered Channadar's own; and Darguarite was promised to Lord Cadmean, whose lands also bordered Hellsguard. It made the sly half-Fae uneasy.
Galee fussed over the young brides to be. Channadar wondered what she was saying. He snapped his golden fan closed. "Bring me some gossip, little fireflies," he said, smiling enigmatically and gesturing with the closed fan. They departed in a rush of silken skirts. The male fireflies remained behind with Channadar and the Thirteen Chosen. "Blue Lily," he said to the loveliest of his Chosen. "Keep an eye upon them."
Hama, Lily's firefly followed her.
Channadar felt suddenly lonely. If only he dared to have Leeza openly upon his arm instead of hidden beneath Tiderider's. He knew so little about her past, save that she had once been a member of his yeomynry. He had been traveling in disguise with his Thirteen Chosen, just another flashy Fae like so many from the enclave around his main city. He had gone out to look at the town they had stayed the night in. The previous day's rain had left the streets muddy and difficult to traverse. He had not noticed Leeza, had not really known when he bumped her, until she got up and tackled him. She straddled him with her hands tangled in his hair, shoving his face repeatedly into the mud and shouting, "Watch where you're going, you idiot!" They wrestled for what seemed like an hour, but was actually only a few minutes. When he finally stopped her by apologizing, he found himself smitten by a mud-coated fair-skinned face and heavy auburn hair.
Channadar watched Leeza moving among the lords and ladies congratulating Wrathscar and the young couples ... mostly young. Lord Westli was in his early fifties, but still quite hale, and this would be his third marriage. So Wrathscar was trading his daughters for allegiances at last. Channadar had begun to wonder if Wrathscar would ever let go of them.
He could not allow those marriages to take place. Wrathscar intended to hunt him by bringing those lands into his house. Were Juna not so suggestible and easily manipulated, Channadar would have arranged a match between him and one of Lord Kanishee's sisters. But he could not trust Juna to think for himself. Juna was a toy, a summerdancer. Perhaps his mother could find a suitable wife for Juna. Then those summerflies of his brother's could be sent away. He did not trust any of them.
Channadar felt unhappy that while he had family on his mother's side, he had only Juna on his Creeyan father's. There had at one time been three bastards, but by the time he had tracked them down it was too late: his enemy had been thorough about eliminating all of Lord Ky's get. Which was what made him all the more cautious in hiding his relationship with Leeza.
The pain in his shoulder worsened and Channadar gestured with his fan to Starsilent.
"The medicine," he said quietly in Fae.
Starsilent gave a small bow of his head and shoulders, reaching into his pouch to produce a vial, which he passed to his lord. Channadar drank and leaned back on the couch to watch Leeza.
* * * *
"Congratulations on your engagement, Philomea," Leeza said, when she reached the head of the line that had formed at the dais.
Philomea gave Leeza a sensual, half-mocking smile. "Thank you, little Leeza. You should be so fortunate."
Leeza felt stung, her hand sliding into her pocket to clutch Channadar's crystal, which she was not allowed to wear openly. She had someone. Someone far better than Philomea's Lord Westli. Or did she? Philomea continued to smile at her, but now the look turned hungry.
"Move along!" someone said behind Leeza and she was shoved to the side and then shoved still further. She staggered, half stumbled, and then went nearly to her knees as she was shoved a third time. A strong hand closed on her arm, steadying her.
"Thank you."
She looked up, seeing first that she had somehow gotten to the rear of the dais out of sight of Channadar, and she turned to see who had helped her.
"Hello, little slut of the Fae." Lord Wrathscar sneered at her. "Are you ready for me now?"
Leeza felt an indescribable pain in her head as if a blade had been shoved between her eyes and she cried out. Her hand, which was still in her pocket, tightened around Channadar's crystal. The force of Channadar's love swept over her and the pain vanished.
Wrathscar frowned, shaking his head. Then a steady voice said from behind him, "Release my firefly or lose your hand."
"Tiderider!" Relief rushed through Leeza. Wrathscar let go of her and she fled to the golden Fae, nestling in his arms as he flashed a deadly fan at the rogue lord.
"Does she open her legs to all of you? Or just you and Channadar?" Wrathscar sneered. Then he spun on his heel and stalked off.
; "What happened, Leeza?" Tiderider murmured into her hair with his cheek on her head. "Channadar sensed your fright and sent me for you."
Leeza whispered back as they walked away together, her voice filled with uncertainty. "I don't know. I got jostled by the crowd. I thought Philomea was going to eat me... No. That was before I got jostled. Yes, I think that was when it happened. There was this pain in my head like someone was trying to get in or shoving a blade between my eyes and then Wrathscar grabbed me when I stumbled. But I had my hand in my pocket holding Channadar's crystal... And then you came..."
They reached the couch near the entrance to the Cloverleaf, and Tiderider settled Leeza beside Channadar. Her lord gave her one of his small smiles that said everything and nothing at all. "No more crowds for you."
"No more crowds? No more!" Leeza cried indignantly, forgetting the game entirely. "I'll suffocate! You cannot do this."
Tiderider, seeing that she was about to make a scene, took her into his arms and kissed her possessively to cover her outburst. She flailed at him for a moment, but the golden Fae was far stronger and more capable. The Chosen laughed and the handful of onlookers who were slowly returning from the gathering at the dais laughed also. Leeza, realizing it was fruitless to struggle, and that she was making a fool of herself quieted. "My love," Tiderider told her. "Better you are safe. My lord is wise."
No. No. No. I'm sick of dancing this game, Leeza thought angrily. I feel like a whore, bought and paid for.
Leeza often wondered where she had gotten that phrase, "a whore, bought and paid for." Then she remembered it in a rush. When she was little one of her mother's more brutal lovers had called her mother that every time they argued. Suddenly Leeza felt as if she were coated in mud and filth.
As soon as Tiderider's hold loosened, Leeza fled. Channadar's face betrayed surprise, hurt, and confusion for the flash of an instant before going masked again. His fan flashed and Da'Shanagara went off in her wake to guard her. "Silly firefly!" Channadar said with a languorous smile. "Perhaps you should get another, Tiderider. Perhaps one like Lady Montani."
He leaned forward and lightly swatted the plump matron on her bottom getting a startled flutter and then a girlish giggle from her. Montani would have liked that, but it wasn't going to happen and they both knew it. Montani had been chasing the males among the Thirteen Chosen for three years and had not caught one yet.
* * * *
Bryndel and Edouina sat in the parlor at the table eating. Cass had chased them loudly out of Talons' bedroom while she cleaned, as she had done every morning for the past few weeks. When Cass finished, she would chase them back in while she cleaned the parlor. It had become a game, which Talons found entertaining to watch, although she remained too weak to participate. Cass simply cleaned around her. It was the only thing that got a smile out of any of them since Arruth's death.
Cass finished and left. Bryndel moved some mushrooms in a cheese sauce onto a plate and, armed with a fork, went to try coaxing Talons to eat a little more.
Talons turned her face away as he waved a forkful of mushrooms at her. "I'm too tired to eat."
"Just one bite?" His eyes pleaded with silent desperation. Finally Bryndel gave up and laid the fork on the edge of the plate.
"Too tired." Her eyes searched his face for a moment. "Bryndel, I'm so tired – I feel like I'm dying."
"Don't say that. You aren't."
"Are you sure, Bryndel? Are you really sure?" Talons' dark eyes searched his face again. She felt certain that everyone knew what was wrong with her, except herself and they were keeping it from her. Most days all the muscles of her body burned and hurt as if someone were shoving small blades into her flesh. It was all that she could do to keep from weeping; at the pain; at the despair enveloping her, at the helplessness. The adventures, victories, and excitement of long ago months seemed a fading dream of someone else's.
Bryndel stroked her hair and then pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. His cheek pressed hers and she could feel his tears slide wetly between them. "I love you, Talons."
"I know..." Dynarien! Dynarien, I love you.
* * * *
Galee sat at the black lacquered table in her parlor, her journal open before her. She resented the fact that she had been forced to start a new one. Meilurk and his three companions stood behind her in Creeyan silks, dark rich shades that matched their natures, watching Wrathscar's daughters who shifted uncomfortably in their seats, waiting for Galee to finally tell them why she had summoned them. She laid the silver pen aside and looked up at last when she felt she had made the young Lemyaris uneasy enough.
"I know that at least one of you has begun Dancing your betrothed. I suspect that all of you have. I have brought you here to warn and teach you. Dance them very slowly. While I found Belyla's Dance amusing at first, it became boring. Had I wanted Yahni to remain alive, as I do these three males, I would have shown her how to do it. Now I am going to teach and you are going to learn."
Smiles lit all their faces and an eagerness that pleased Galee shone in their expressions. If their father had been as cooperative, things might have been far better and she would not now be forced to heavy-handed measures. Measures like those had led to the Guild's discovery of many of her pawns thirty years ago. The nobility were still coming here for the wedding, but they were bringing large retinues of myn-at-arms to ensure their safety. That could complicate matters. The scales could tip in either direction. She had to move cautiously.
"Oh, Galee, we live to learn," Philomea simpered.
"You will answer directly to me. You will not consult with your father. If he objects, you will come to me or to Meilurk and we will deal with him."
Their faces flushed with pleasure and Galee smiled. They were tasting freedom from their father for the first time in their lives, and their gratitude toward her for giving it to them was extremely satisfying. Only Belyla had been a failure, but Zarliche was fixing that. He would break Belyla with his tortures or they would stake her.
"I will move you each into your own suites. Philomea, you must ensure that Westli understands that it is I who rules and not Wrathscar. Have you been fully into his mind yet?"
Philomea's eyes narrowed with sly, sensual delight. "Not fully. But I know how to do it."
"Have you set your first coercions? Sways or triggers?"
"No, but I am ready to learn."
"Good. Very good. Up to this point, I have subverted the guard a few at a time. Now I want all of them. Westli can give them to me. With the guard in my hands it will be time to kill a god."
Philomea shivered, her body writhing in her chair. "Yes. Can I taste his blood?"
"I will give you bottles of it."
"What about us?" Elomina demanded. "You killed Solance and now I have no one to drink from."
"We will find you someone. Have you tasted your betrothed?"
Elomina flushed guiltily and Galee laughed. "But I was drinking mainly from Solance," Elomina protested.
"Darguarite?"
Darguarite squirmed in her chair. "Cadmean's blood is warm and rich."
Galee laughed again. "Then it is definitely time to teach you." She spread her hands and fluttered her fingers. "And, once the wedding is over and Creeya is ours, the one of you who has most pleased me will be given permission to turn her lover."
Sounds of delight rippled through the room.
* * * *
Osterbridge sat with Isen at a small corner café in the Cloverleaf. The owner's daughter had taken their order, but the food had not come yet. A brightly colored cloth covered the table, and Isen's fair skin seemed to glow against it as her arm stretched across it. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers.
This was his special place. The owner and his family knew him well. Yahni, Jajinga, and Terrys had come here with him often, all partnered with someone they were seeing at the time. They had been coming to this café for eight years. Ever since Yahni found it. Osterbridge had long wondered
whether the ladies only went out with him because of Yahni, to bask in Yahni's light. It was the first time he could be certain it was purely for himself alone.
A wave of desolation washed over him as he thought about Yahni. It must have shown on his face, because Isen reached across the table with both of her hands and squeezed his fingers. "You're thinking about your friends?"
Osterbridge sucked in a breath and gave a slow nod. "Yes."
"You miss them terribly, I know."
"I was so lonely until I found you. I hardly wanted to go on living..." He gazed into her lovely eyes that always made him think of swans.
Isen pulled his hand to her side of the table and kissed each finger. "I feel as if I should comfort you better. I want to put my arms around you and hold you."
"I like it when you do that." Osterbridge smiled at her, pulling himself together, wanting to be all that he could be.
"It's wonderful being with you," Isen responded, her eyes dancing. "Being with you makes me happy, makes me feel safe."
"I'm glad then." He ran his gaze over her breasts, wondering what they would feel like in his hands. She was so much smaller than he was that Osterbridge felt certain he could cover each of her breasts in his large grasp.
The owner's daughter arrived, placing two platters in the middle of the table, two glasses, a bottle of white wine, and then set the plates and utensils around.
"Thanks, Karimah," Osterbridge said.
The dark girl smiled pleasantly. "If there is anything else you require, call me."
"We will."
The young mon withdrew, leaving them alone at the table. Osterbridge served up the rabbit in plum sauce, the side of creamed mushrooms, and opened the bottle of wine. He poured for both of them, while Isen continued to beam at him.
"You'll like this," Osterbridge said. "It was one of Yahni's favorites ... and mine."
Isen took a sip of her wine. "You talk a lot about him. He must have been a very special friend."
"He was. You must have met him. Yahni sat the desk most afternoons. You couldn't miss his eyes. Those extraordinary eyes. His sister has them too."