Beth got up and embraced him, opening her shift. I love you, Malthus."
Malthus shrugged her off. Did you actually sleep with the lawgiver?"
Beth dropped her eyes. No. I tried, but he refused me."
Malthus snarled, baring his fangs at her. I have no use for you."
"Malthus, please. Don't be angry with me. I help you, Malthus."
"At least his reputation is stained now. No one believes that he hasn't been sticking it in you. I'd like it better if he had."
"I tried, Malthus. I tried."
He caught her arm, steering her into the room at the far end, where he shoved her down on his bed.
Malthus stripped his clothing off, dropping it in the corner by the bed. His member jutted from the thatch between his legs, hard and thick. His fangs came down. Undress."
Beth obeyed.
Malthus spoke the triggering phrase that would make her go gladly to her death. I'm going to make you beautiful."
Beth gave him a radiant smile. I am ready for that."
"I know you are. He slammed into her mind with no pretense of art, twisting and turning the blade of his power. She whimpered and writhed.
"Tomorrow afternoon, in front of everyone you will run crying into the woods. You will refuse to tell them why. You will go to that cave I showed you and stay there with my people until Egidius comes for you. You will tell Egidius that you are ready to be rited. He will rite you with the greatest of artistry. Your death will be a thing of beauty."
Beth shuddered and tears ran down her face. Yes, beloved."
He touched the hollow of her throat and stole her voice completely so that there would be no more words or sounds from her.
"He will let out your life with exquisite slowness. Malthus voiced the words as if he were speaking of love. He leaned over her, licking the tears from her face, enjoying the taste of fear and sorrow. The blade will slide into you again and again, as he slips his cock into you."
Malthus hands roved her body. You will die well, Beth. When your soul shatters, part of you will always belong to him. Egidius is a master of elegance. He works slowly, using five blades in the style called Fifteen Piercings."
Beth shuddered as he walked his fingers over her, poking her in the places where the blades would be inserted. Then he bit savagely into her breast, and began to suck, determined to enjoy his final taste of Beth.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE BUTCHERING SERPENT
Malthus struck the ground again with his hoe, driving it in, heaving up grassy clods of earth, breaking up more clods, and then repeating in a nearly unendurable monotony. Ros and Lyrri sat beside the row of ground, shaking the bits of grass loose, and making piles of them to the side. Once finished, the girls would feed the gathered grass to the goats. Tomorrow they would put in the seed and the seedlings from the community mudroom.
"Ah, hells, I hate this, Malthus muttered.
Sweat glistened on his smooth chest, gilding the flare of his wide, bronze shoulders. His cotton, drawstring pantsthe lightest weight garment he owned, which he had purchased in the deep southfelt heavy with sweat, and had slipped from his narrow waist to hang around his well-formed hips.
The lawgiver had informed him that now that his house was up, he had to have a private vegetable garden like the others. Those in the central sheelings had to work in the communal garden or help with the building and other camp chores. The ultimate goal, according the Nikko, had been independence, so that everyone became less of a drain on the resources of the camp and the donations of larger lycan community. He hated keeping up this pretense of being part of the community. At least his house was at the farthest edge out of sight of the others. He still spent the first half of each day working at something the lycans considered normal, except when he went hunting. Hunting. If the lycans knew what he did when he went hunting they would not sleep so soundly in their beds.
Beth had been missing for a week, and no one had bothered to go look for her. Everyone assumed she had run off with someone, or moved on to a village where her reputation was not known. Clodagh, the young lycan who had taken over the day-to-day handling of the camp following the discovery of Beth's body, refused to stay there after dark. That had limited his opportunities to add Clodagh to his collection of tools.
Malthus had wanted to watch Beth rited, it had been years since he had witnessed the kind of artistry that Egidius brought to the rites, but had not wanted to risk being discovered away from camp on the same night she vanished. There had been no further sign of Sergei, but he didn't want to leave the girls alone on the chance that the vampire was lurking about, and someone would have known he was away if he left them with a sitter. Kandaishee was turning out to have an extremely susceptible and pliant mind. Eventually he would have her watching them whenever he needed to be away, and covering for his absences.
The sound of rushing footsteps on packed earth, and a swish of skirts and petticoats alerted Malthus of Merissa's approach. She was one of the few lycans who dressed like the ladies of the queen's court, with a form-fitting bodice and a wealth of under garments. Most of her people preferred clothing that would not hamper the change to wolf or hybrid.
Seeing her run along the path toward him, Malthus quit working. He walked to his house and leaned the hoe against it. Go feed the goats and don't come back for a while, he told his nieces. They ran off obediently.
"Oh, Malthus! It's terrible!"
He could tell she had been crying. Malthus opened his arms to Merissa and she threw herself into them. What's happened?"
"It's Beth. She's dead."
"Oh, gods, no. Malthus voice caught. What happened?"
"You remember the day she ran off, crying?"
"Yes, of course. How can I forget it? It was the day I told her I could never see her again. Malthus set Merissa back a bit to look in her eyes and noticed someone moving in the trees, watching them. Nikko. Every time he turned around that god-forsaken lawgiver was spying on him. Sooner or later, he'd catch that young idiot alone and that would be the end of him.
Merissa swallowed and then began to sob. I'm sorry I made you tell her. Truly I am. I just thought..."
"It isn't your fault. If it's anyone's it's mine. Where did they find her?"
"Iudris Meadow where those battle-clan myn were slain. There was barely enough left of her for the Readers to identify. It's horrible."
"Were they able to tell what killed her?"
"No. Merissa began to weep harder.
Malthus wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, her face pressed against his neck. She was so deliciously distraught and helpless, that it was all he could do to keep his fangs in their sheaths. I am so sorry, Merissa."
"I'm afraid the war is coming here. I'm afraid that is what it means. I worry about Darmyk and his father."
"Why won't you name your lover, Merissa? Are you ashamed of him? Malthus asked.
Merissa looked startled. No. I'll never be ashamed of loving him."
"Does the boy know his father's name?"
"No."
"Love and what results from it, is nothing to be ashamed of. Malthus leaned in and kissed her. Merissa's lips yielded to his, parting. He slipped his tongue between them, flicking hungrily around her own. She pressed against him, her body moving along his. He cupped her breast, catching her nipple between his fingers and kneading. Merissa moaned, and arched her back. His hand traced her thigh, wishing that her petticoats were not preventing him from feeling the special place between her legs.
Abruptly, Merissa made a soft, almost indescribable sound that Malthus read as a sob mixed with longing. She pulled away from him and lowered her head, her face flushed, her breathing rapid and hard.
"I'm not ready."
Malthus crooked a finger under her chin and lifted her face up. I'm falling in love with you."
She twisted away from him, refusing to face him. Don't."
"Why? Am I that ugly?"
Merissa raised startled
eyes to his face. It isn't you."
"Is Beth going to haunt us? He gripped her arms, kneading them.
"No. It isn't Beth either. I'm just not ready. Merissa shoved away from him and he let her go.
Malthus watched Merissa as she ran, her skirts lifted to free her feet. He licked his lips and ran his tongue across his fangs. You'll be ready very soon, Merissa. Very, very soon."
More movement caught his eye, and Malthus observed Nikko leaving the grounds. Follow me into the forest, Nikko, he murmured. I know a good place for you to die."
* * * *
Like most shops in towns and villages, whether lycan or human, Baroucha's living quarters were upstairs above her work rooms. Ordinarily a village as large as Wolffgard would have had several healers and midwives. However, Baroucha resented competition. Gossip was her chief weapon and she wielded it with great effect to drive out anyone who dared to set up a competing shop and business. She tolerated the human apothecary, Atreius Ivanstern, only because he had access to drugs and herbs that she could not come bymostly through connections in Creeyaand he was willing to sell to her at discount.
Clodagh had ordered some special creams from Baroucha after several of the camp's children had encountered a patch of poison ivy. Atreius had offered her large sums for her recipe, but she refused to sell it, thus making him dependent upon her for his own supplies. She had spent the day filling seven jars for Clodagh and had them sitting on her counter waiting to be picked up.
The past few weeks had not been pleasant for Baroucha. She had caught glimpses of Cahira several times, always accompanied by Todd, or her two huge sons, or her daughter-in-law, that uppity bitch named Mary. They had not yet paid Baroucha the promised visit, and Baroucha wavered between fits of nervous anticipation and hope that it would never happen. Somehow, between the intervening years, Cahira had gone from being a healer of modest talents to becoming that rarest of lycans: a mage. The change in Cahira had left Baroucha feeling unsettled.
Baroucha went to the taverns each night in hopes of gleaning bits of rumor concerning Cahira, but learned nothing useful. Apparently, Cahira and her family were keeping to themselves. Baroucha sat in the front room of her shop at a long table, grinding dried herbs to powder with her mortar and pestle, work she normally did in her back room. So long as Cahira remained in Wolffgard, Baroucha wanted to spend her days watching out her windows for Cahira's approach.
When she finished with the herbs, Baroucha gathered it all into a basket and carried them into the backroom where she kept them. The room was a maze of cabinets, tables, and bookshelves. She had just begun putting the jars of herbs away when the bell she had hanging on the front rang, announcing a customer's arrival.
Baroucha flinched at the sound. Cahira?"
"No, a male voice replied.
"Have a seat. I'll be right with you."
"Clodagh sent me."
Baroucha did not recognize the voice and started for the door when he appeared, silhouetted in sunlight from the front room. No. No. Customers are not allowed back here. Go sit down."
"I'm allowed wherever I wish to be."
She frowned. I've seen you around. You're..."
"Malthus. Malthus Estrobian."
"Malthus, you're not allowed back here. I must insist"
He continued into the room and, as he came nearer, a shiver ran down Baroucha's back. She retreated from him. What do you want?"
"A private talk. I turned your sign to closed. No one will disturb us."
"Why?"
Malthus smiled and his fangs descended.
Baroucha glanced at his wrists, saw that he was not spellcorded, and decided not to provoke him. What do you want to talk about?"
"Sit down over there. Malthus pointed at the table farthest from the door.
She obeyed, a sense of dread gathering in her chest. What do you want?"
Malthus moved about the back room, opening and closing the cabinets, examining their contents. He took out a bottle of black liquid that lacked a label, opened it, and sniffed the contents. The Gentle Path. You're Guild?"
"No. I've a supplier in Creeya. That's all. Baroucha's voice shook.
"Good. I don't like Guild. Malthus continued to open bottles and jars, sniffing the contents. You have quite a collection of poisons for a simple village healer."
"What would Guild be doing in Wolffgard? She rubbed her hands together in a nervous washing motion.
"Looking for the Butchering Serpent?"
"The Serpent here?"
Malthus left his explorations of her supplies, walked around behind her, and kneaded her shoulders. He's just become your partner."
"Gods, no. Baroucha shuddered as he breathed along her wrinkled neck.
"Be a good girl and I won't kill you."
"I'll be good. She flinched as his fangs broke the skin and he sucked her. His power swept through her mind and Baroucha sagged in her chair.
Malthus withdrew from her, licked the wounds closed, and stroked her dull gray hair, finding it as coarse and dry as straw. I need workspace for some of my projects."
A small sob escaped from Baroucha as she managed a tiny nod.
He patted her shoulder. There. There. I didn't hurt you that much."
"No."
Malthus chuckled at the timidity of her response. I heard you were a surly bitch. Yet, what do I find? A mouse."
"Please..."
"Please what?"
"Don't hurt me."
He pulled at his oak leaf beard. So predictable. I assure you, Baroucha ... some of the adjustments I intend to make to your brain will be extremely painful. But not all of them. Just remember, the less you resist, the less it will hurt."
"I'll be good."
"I assume those creams on the table are for Clodagh?"
"Yes."
"I'll take those now, but I'll be back tomorrow."
* * * *
Tension had begun to build up within the Lawgiver House ever since Nikko brought them word of Beth's death. That was also the last time either Finn or Kynyr had spoken to Nikko. It troubled the two young guardsmyn that the lawgiver had stopped coming around to talk. While they considered Nikko to be level-headed, they also knew the young wolf seemed to be carrying around a load of undeserved guilt that could easily drive him to some uncharacteristically rash actions.
Merissa came by nearly every day to check on Kynyr, sometimes with her mother and aunts in tow, and sometimes without them. Whenever they did, Cahira would absent herself.
Finn watched Kynyr cross the sitting room and settle into a large chair near the window. Cahira had begun letting him move about the house a few days ago. That meant that Cahira would be going back to Longbranch soon and she had not yet given Finn the rest of the story. His patience began to wear thin.
The sound of a coach and four outside alerted Finn to the arrival of the Redhands, and he got to his feet. You've got company, Kynyr."
Kynyr nodded and stared at the ceiling. You might as well tell Gram to have the Nibari bring lunch out instead of doing it herself."
Finn heard the door open. I better duck out now. Merissa's starting to think I'm avoiding her also the way I keep excusing myself."
"Yeah. You do that."
Finn found Cahira sitting in the kitchen, her eyes focused on a window, yet looking at nothing.
"I heard them, Finn."
He slid into a chair across from her. How much longer you going to be here?"
Cahira rubbed her eyes. A week at most ... I think."
"Then you gotta finish the story."
"Finn, can't we just ... not?"
Finn shook his head. If I don't know all of it, I can't help Kynyr."
When she looked at him, her eyes were so sad and worn that Finn almost withdrew his demands.
"The study?"
Finn stood up and went around to Cahira, offering her his arm. Let's take the servants stair so you don't have to deal with them."
Cahira managed a meager smile
as she took his arm and allowed him to lead her upstairs to the same place where they had spoken before.
This time she went straight for the whiskey without bothering with tea first. Cahira drank two glasses of whiskey before she even began to talk, and Finn could see that it was costing her a lot.
"Where did I leave off?"
"You slept with him."
She covered her mouth, breathing deep and struggling. We fell in love. That's easy enough."
"I guess."
Cahira rubbed her hands over her face again, poured a third glass and sipped at it. Baroucha found us in bed together. She spread it all over camp that I was a slut."
"You know for sure it was her?"
"Alistar told me it was her."
"Skinny old Alistar Heathwick?"
Cahira shook her head. You never met him. He died before Branduff was born."
"Okay. Different Alistar. Keep going."
"You know what the word guurmondru means?"
"I don't think I've ever heard it before."
"I'm not surprised. It's one of those customs we've lost. I haven't heard anyone use that term in years. Take the terms godfather, mentor, and spiritbrother. Wrap them all together and you have a guurmundru. That's what Todd was to Tarrant."
Finn frowned, trying to get his head around that and not quite making it all mesh. In the end it seemed best to just let it go, pretend he understood, and keep her talking. Okay."
"Todd and Sheradyn knew what was going on between Tarrant and me from the first. Nothing came of it. Nothing changed for me in camp ... until Baroucha stumbled upon us. At that point life became awkward. It suddenly seemed like all of the dogs in camp were trying to get into bed with me. I turned them down. Some were polite about it, and others got extremely ... insistent. Even rude. Especially Alistar Weems."
Cahira finished off another drink, refilled her glass, and resumed talking. By then, Todd had taken me under his wing the way he had Tarrant. More to the point, Todd busted heads..."
"Those who were harassing you?"
"Yes. We made a pact not to take it to Tarrant. I was just to tell Todd if it got too hard to handle and he would take care of it."
Frank-SQuest Page 18