Bloodmines: Cheryl Matthynssens

by Cheryl Matthynssens

  Sordith gave a swift nod and launched into what was coming in and out of the city. His report was far more thorough than Aorun’s had ever been. The mage was suddenly aware of a second reason why he would have to watch this rogue: Sordith was shrewd enough to know that it never hurt to give the enemy a reason to keep you.

  Chapter Two

  Sordith strode into the hall, taking no note of the men who saluted or nodded to him. He already knew that any sign of weakness, especially in these early weeks, would be an invitation to those with higher ambitions. Having served under Aorun, he knew many of those that he would need to watch. He had no intentions of becoming Trench Lord only to die with a dagger in his back. There was often a flurry of attempts when a reigning Trench Lord fell.

  He entered his office, and Owen jumped up from behind the Trench Lord’s desk with a sheepish look. The chair banged down onto all fours as the man found his feet. “Sorry boss,” he mumbled as he hurried out from behind the red, wooden behemoth.

  “I don't really care where you sit, Owen. Just keep your feet off of it,” Sordith absently warned, his mind was still in the meeting with the High Minister. He tossed his gloves down and moved around the desk to the chair that Owen had just vacated. With a sigh, he brushed dirt off the desk, flashing Owen a scathing look.

  Owen’s eyes darted away, and he tugged at his jerkin as if needing to be a bit neater. “How’d it go in the top house?”

  Sordith sighed at the boot heel on his latest acquisitions invoice. He held it up pointedly to Owen with a frown before speaking. “Well enough. I think we won’t see the High Minister in too much of our business. However, he will be coming to inspect the condition of his nephew. I expect him to get a receptive welcome from all of my people. Understood?”

  “Got it... No robbing the High Minister of all his slips.”

  Sordith unlocked a drawer with the keys he carried and pulled out a pouch, which he tossed to Owen. “I want those spread to any that live on the path that he will take. I want no tossing of garbage or shite. Tell them if the man makes it to my hall and out again with no harassment, I will be generous after, as well.” On the surface, Sordith knew that it would look as if he was bribing the people to fool the High Minister. In truth, the last time a protest from the inhabitants of the trench had broken out, many had not lived. It had taken Aorun and the trench’s men hours to put the fires out.

  Owen caught it deftly and the big man turned for the door. Sordith caught a look of greed in the man’s eyes. He looked down at his papers, but he called out loudly.

  “Oh, one thing, Owen...”

  Owen turned back for a moment. “Yeah...?” He saw the look that Sordith shot him and swallowed. “I mean, yeah SIR?”

  Sordith picked up a quill to answer a message on his desk, not looking at Owen. “I find out you kept one token out of it, and I will ban you from Madame Aerius’ for a month.” He grinned at the sound of Owen’s concerned gasp.

  “Every trading token will leave my hands, I swear it,” Owen promised.

  “I am counting on that. See it done. I don’t know when exactly his ‘High and Mightiness’ will deign to lower himself to step into our trench.”

  Sordith did not look up till Owen had closed the door. He sat back with a sigh as he tossed down the quill. Luthian might consider him an opportunistic rogue, but he had not planned to move up to this position any time soon. He had rather liked being the second behind Aorun: it left him room to maneuver and shift power without being too exposed. As word spread that he was the Trench Lord, he found he could go nowhere without ‘My Lord’ this and that, and besides, the complaints were endless. He put his head down into his hands for a long moment, letting the tension and wariness slowly ebb. No wonder Aorun drank so much.

  He ran his hand through his hair and he considered how things had turned out. Sordith had been into every household at some point in his life. He knew which sewers led to the best scores, he knew where he could listen and not be heard. Many had thought his forays into the sewers had been to steal from the upper tiers, a fact he had managed to confirm when he brought back unusual items to sell to the merchants that lined the trenches. His true purpose had been to find his birth father. He had never considered Henrick before he had been assigned to follow Alador. As he had listened to conversations and followed both men, he had soon realized that all the pieces fit.

  He was fairly certain Henrick was his father. This made Alador his half-brother. When Aorun had set out to kill Alador, Sordith had realized he could not let it happen. He sighed, further releasing the stress of the afternoon. He had now come a full circle from his beginning thought: if not for Aorun’s fascination with Alador, Sordith would not now be the Trench Lord.

  He got up from his desk, and headed out into the hall and made his way to what had once been his own rooms. He slipped in the door and looked about. The bed was empty. Had Alador finally risen from his stupor? “Keelee?” he called, worry evident on his face. He sighed with relief when the beautiful woman stepped in from the balcony.

  “I thought the fresh air would do him good.” Her soft answer drew Sordith to her side.

  He gently touched her arm. “And what of you? You were hurt too,” he reminded her with tender concern.

  “You don’t become a bed servant and not get a rough handling now and then,” she muttered. “It is the vision of Flame that I cannot get out of my head. The way…" her words muted as she closed her eyes.

  “I saw the end. I imagine it is a hard sight to let go of, if you witnessed his full demise.” Sordith’s tone was tender. He had found he liked Keelee a great deal. He loved her resilience and gentle manner. A man could gaze into her eyes, and in a moment be lost, in those emerald pools. The abuse she had suffered from Aorun’s hand made any advance in the near future inconsiderate, and though he intended to make that advance, he was content to wait.

  He realized he was staring into their depths again and changed the subject. “How is Alador?”

  “He is unchanged. He will open his mouth so that I can feed him, or let me guide him where I wish. It is unnerving, though; his eyes stare through me as if I’m not there. He doesn’t show any response other than when bidden.” Keelee bit her lip and twisted her long hair between her fingers.

  Sordith moved past her on to the balcony. Alador sat there, looking out into the harbor. He was dressed and clean, and Keelee had thought to lay a blanket across his lap. Sighing, Sordith grabbed a chair and pulled it up close beside him. Keelee had moved to the doorway behind them, watching worriedly.

  “Alador, brother, it is safe now. You can come back from wherever you have gone.” Sordith touched Alador’s hand. It was cold and flaccid. Sordith pulled the blanket up a bit when he got no response.

  He looked at Keelee. “He is biddable, you say, and yet does not respond to anything but commands?”

  “Not a word or even a turning of the head,” Keelee replied.

  “It is odd. It is like he has just shut a piece of himself off.” Sordith looked frustrated. The healer, Lady Aldemar, had been unable to suggest any helpful ways they might be able to snap Alador out of this state. “We will have to wait for his father and hope he knows of some solution.”

  Keelee’s stared at Alador, her eyes filling with tears. She could not hide the misery that she felt at Alador’s condition; it was written clearly on her face.

  He got up and moved to her, searching her face. “You love him?” Sordith asked. He tried unsuccessfully to hide his concern.

  Keelee blinked a few times at the suddenness and directness of the question. “I don’t know. I feel like he’s this way because of me. I feel so much guilt that I don’t know if I have the room to feel anything else.” She winced as she twisted the lock of hair too tightly and released it.

  “Don’t feel guilty.” Sordith took her hand, his thumb caressing the back tenderly. “Once Aorun decided he wanted something, he would pursue it with dogged determination. He would have removed anything in
his way. It was not your doing.”

  “Yet, because of me, here sits the only other man who has been kind to me, and my father is dead.” Her voice choked as the threatening tears succeeded in spilling over onto her cheeks.

  “You cannot blame yourself,” he consoled, reaching up and wiping a tear from her face.

  “I… I kept something from Alador. I am afraid that it might have been important. What if it would have stopped all of this?” She attempted to turn from him, her hair moving to shield her face.

  Sordith gently pulled her back to him and tipped her chin up. “What did you withhold, and more importantly, why did you withhold it?" his voice took on an edge of authority.

  “I don’t know what it was. He had this silver tube he was always looking for. One day, I found it under his pillow. The High Minister had been giving me slips to bring him information of use. I took it, intending to hand it over. I just never could bring myself to give it to Luthian.” She took a ragged breath, her eyes closing to avoid looking at him.

  “Keelee, what was in the tube?” Sordith asked. He let go of her chin, but not her hand.

  “I don’t know. I opened it, but it was just a piece of paper with words in no particular order. It could have been some secret way of passing a message or nothing. I don’t know.” She looked up at Sordith. “I just felt, deep inside, that it would be a bad thing for the High Minister to have it.”

  Sordith pulled her to him and hugged her gently. “You were probably right.”

  Keelee murmured against his chest softly. “What if it would have changed how things happened?”

  “Man has questioned his choices after the fact for centuries. It doesn’t change the outcome. You will drive yourself mad trying to find that answer, but you’ll never have it,” Sordith cautioned gently. He stroked her hair gentlybefore pushing her her back to arm’s length. “Have you left these rooms at all?”

  Keelee shook her head no. “I didn’t want to leave him alone.”

  “I’ll have someone else sit with him for a while. I am taking you to eat, and there are matters that need further discussion.” He pushed loose hair out of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. “I will give you an hourglass, will that be enough time to refresh yourself?”

  “Yes, but…” she began.

  “You are my guest, Keelee.” He looked inside the doorway to his old rooms. “You will have your own room, and I will have a bath drawn for you.”

  “Oh, please don’t trouble yourself. I can stay here with Alador,” she insisted hurriedly.

  “You could,” he admitted. “However, a sick room is depressing, and you have been through a great deal. I will hire a woman in need of slips to sit with him.”

  Sordith ushered her through the room and back into the main hall despite the woman’s protests that he was leaving Alador alone. “I do not think he will be getting up anytime soon, and it won’t hurt him to have fresh air for a short time. I assure you that, while you ready yourself, I’ll see that all is taken care of.”

  Keelee stopped for a moment. She turned to him, grabbing for his hand and clutching it in both of her own as she looked up into his eyes. “You promise?”

  Sordith rarely made promises, but when those big, luminous eyes blinked up at him, he found the words spilling from his mouth, “I promise.”

  As she let go of his hand, he placed it in the small of her back to gently guide her to the room he had chosen for her. Sordith had insisted that the housekeeper ensure that it was feminine and warm. The woman was efficient, so he had no doubt that it was ready for Keelee.

  He had also had her clothes brought in from the Blackguard caverns. The death mage, Jon, had helped him gain access to Alador’s room. Even so, Sordith was still unsure of who he could trust enough to get close to Alador, so despite the mage’s flat insistence that he be allowed to visit, Sordith had denied him.

  “Your clothes have been hung here. I sent for anything that you or Alador might need.” Sordith smiled down at her before opening the door, and felt a rush of pleasure at the smile on her face.

  “Thank you. How did you manage to have this all arranged so quickly?” she asked. She moved about in wonder, touching the soft linens and smelling the flowers beside the bed.

  Sordith leaned on the door frame with his arms crossed, content to just watch her explore the room. “There are advantages to being the Trench Lord,” he pointed out with a mischievous grin. He watched as she looked out the window, enjoying her obvious pleasure at his choice; but then he remembered his promise and stood abruptly. “I will go see to that bath, and a caregiver for Alador. I will meet you in the main foyer in one hourglass,” he reminded her.

  Her soft smile and large eyes focused on Sordith.“I'm sure I can manage in that time.”

  Sordith swallowed hard; he just nodded and shut the door before he could say something too forward or stupid. He called out for a servant, and one stepped forward immediately as though he’d been hovering just out of sight. “See that the lady gets a hot bath drawn immediately, and send someone to fetch Madame Aerius,” he commanded.

  The servant bowed and set off swiftly for the kitchens.

  An hour later, Sordith waited in the main hall. He was smartly dressed in a green tunic and black leather pants. He wore his swords and his leather vest, knowing that, even in the company of a lady, he had to be cautious.

  He had met briefly with Madame Auries, as she knew most of the women in the trench. The Madame had been able to send someone up to relieve him from Alador’s side before the hour glass was two-thirds spent. He had been forced to hurry to be ready before Keelee, but had managed to keep his promise. The man smiled briefly at the thought of such a small thing, and the pleasure it would give to the beautiful woman.

  He frowned briefly, clasping his arms behind him and he began pacing. He wondered if he should really be pursuing his brother’s bed servant. In fairness, she was of no use to Alador, except as a nurse, at this time. He hoped Alador did not have feelings for her. Sordith briefly considered whether his fascination with Keelee was any worse or better than Aorun’s, then shrugged the thought away. He was just taking her to dinner to gain information. ‘No harm in that’, he thought.

  Hearing a light footstep, he turned and froze. Keelee had braided her hair down her left shoulder. Her emerald eyes were lined with kohl and seemed even more mesmerizing. Her deep blue dress clung tightly to every curve. The bodice of it plunged low, leaving very little left for his imagination. Sordith found himself moving to her before he could formulate a real thought. He took her hand and lifted it to his lips, his eyes locked with hers as he caressed her knuckles with a gentle kiss. “You look very beautiful.” he murmured, gazing over her knuckles with genuine admiration. He realized that he had not let go of her hand and dropped his grip.

  Keelee colored slightly. “I doubt you have lacked beautiful women in this hall,” she teased with the merest hint of a husky whisper.

  “Oh, there you would be correct. I, however, tend to be more discerning than my comrades as to my choices of companions,” he reassured her with a wink. “Shall we...?” He indicated the door.

  “We are not eating here?” Keelee asked, her curiosity clearly piqued as she spoke.

  Sordith’s answer was casual and smooth. “I thought we would take a walk along the pier. I have a friend with a lovely boat that doesn’t sail until tomorrow; he offered to let me have the deck for the evening. I have requested a table be set out for us while the winds are still down. We can speak privately and watch the sunset as we dine.”

  “Oh. I should have worn something warmer.” She looked down with concern.

  “I have a cloak that will keep you more than comfortable, and if the wind picks up, we can always return,” he promised. He walked her to the door where a servant waited with two cloaks. Sordith helped Keelee into hers, then swung on his own. He had a roguish smile as he escorted her out the door. There were definite benefits to being the Trench Lord.

 
; Chapter Three

  Luthian eyed himself in the mirror. Although he still maintained the regal looks of his youth, the pale color of his hair still aged him. The white silken strands were soft and easily cared for, but they could have passed for mountain snow, bleached as they were by magic. He frowned, not liking the pale look of his face. Like most mages, it was gaunt and sallow, the mark of one who used heavy spells.

  He smoothed down the red robes of his sphere, having decided to proclaim his penchant for fire during his foray into the trench. Had Sordith not made Alador’s situation sound so dire, he would have continued to insist the boy be moved to his manor house. His last visit to the trenches had been satisfying, but also devastating. The ungrateful wretches who lived there had seen fit to rise up against him. He had lost three guardsmen that day and had been forced to defend himself. The stench of burned flesh and waste had wafted to his balcony for a week.

  Luthian was unwilling to make any additional demands until he could assess the boy for himself. He had not sent for Henrick yet against the hope that his help would not be needed. The longer he kept his brother out of Silverport, the more time he had to ascertain how to use this situation to his best advantage. Henrick had a way of showing up at the worst possible moments. Luthian shook away the annoyance that the thought had produced. He frowned at his appearance one last time, still feeling he was not quite intimidating enough. He plucked at the sleeves and nodded to himself: still a striking figure nonetheless.

  His hair was left loose to blow wildly in the brisk cold wind. The mid-calf robe was decorated with draconic symbols in black woven patterns. His boots were shined so well that when he looked down, he could see his own reflection. It was not as elaborate as he would have worn to a council dinner, but the figure he cut would draw the people's eyes. He wanted to ensure that all who saw him were aware of his status.

  He made his way through the hall, out to where four of the Blackguard waited for him. He would have preferred taking more men with him and cleansing the trench while he was about it; but that was not his purpose today. Four would be a sufficient show of strength, and more importantly, enough to protect him for the time required to cast any spell he might need. The four moved around him as he set off for the stairs to the fifth tier.