Leaning in to savor the pungency of Claw's suffering with his necromantic senses, Malthus tilted his head to the side with a friendly smile. Perhaps I should write my mother again, and replenish the rum since you like it so much."
"Yeah, do that. Claw Redhand sounded listless.
Malthus poured himself a drink from the same bottle of whiskey and drank it down. Claw snatched the bottle and refilled his own glass. Curses and spells were far more subtle than poison and less easily detected. Malthus could sense another heart attack approaching within Claw's body. If the next one did not kill the old bastard, then Malthus intended to catch him alone and finish him. The entire charade had gone on long enough, and Malthus felt impatient.
He nodded to Claw and stood up. I need to get some sleep. We rode all night to get our catch back before the meat could spoil."
"Yeah. Claw's face turned steadily paler as Malthus watched and the sa'necari knew that he had to be having increasingly frequent incidents.
Killing Caimbeul and riting Odhran beneath the noses of his companions had aroused Malthus. He went into the bedroom of his suite, and gazed at his wife MerissaClaw's daughtershe was hugely swollen for this early in the pregnancy. He climbed onto the bed and ran his hands along Merissa's body, awakening her.
"Sweetheart? Merissa blinked sleepily.
"Open your legs. Malthus snarled, unbuttoning his trousers, and lifting hardened member free of the imprisoning cloth. If he could not feast on more physical pain tonight, he would settle for emotional suffering. I'm very disappointed in you."
"What did I do? Merissa's voice caught.
"You know what you did. He pushed her nightgown up, forced her legs apart, and shoved into her. Shut up and be still, at least grant me that much."
Merissa began to cry. Malthus lunged into her mind to mute her voice. Her eyes widened in shock and she shoved at his shoulders as he continued to plunge into her.
"Feosaik-leanon, Malthus growled the ugly word in Merissa's ear that lycans gave to their kind who coupled with sa'necari. You've had three sa'necari between your filthy legs ... and nothing else."
Merissa shook her head in denial. Malthus pinned her head to the pillows with his mouth over hers, and breathed a spell between her lips. She went limp, her eyes glistening.
Like most sa'necari, Malthus was slow to climax because of the large number of deaths he had digested over the decades. Merissa bore his attentions like a dutiful wife as she always did, but now terror had blended itself into the core of her being as well. Malthus finished and rolled to the side. He kissed her ginger hair and stroked her.
"I love you, Merissa. Don't ever cross me."
She shook her head, her eyes pleading.
"Which one had you first? Isranon or my brother Troyes."
Merissa struggled to get his name past the spell. TTroy ... es."
"Appropriate. It pleased Malthus to know that his brother had taken Merissa's virginity and not Isranon.
A freshet of tears dampened Merissa face.
"You're a true cairden-spiursak. Malthus twisted the lycan word for blood-whore on his lips as if it were a blade in Merissa's heart. Lord Hoon gave me a choice of lycan clans. I chose this one because I wanted to know what happened to my brother."
Merissa trembled. He ... raped me."
Malthus covered her lips with his own and breathed another spell into her body. You enjoyed it."
He sealed her lips so that she could not betray him, no matter how deeply her heart felt broken. Malthus now had another source of pain to enjoy. He had gone too long without free access to the suffering of others to feed his necromantic appetites. Killing Caimbeul and Odhran had left him craving more like an addict. Malthus knew that he had to have a source of arcane nourishment in the manor itself, that going without was no longer something he could handle.
"Your people made a grave mistake when they killed my brother. I'm far more dangerous than Troyes could ever have been. Malthus breathed a third spell past her lips. I'm the Butchering Serpent."
Merissa's tears became a torrent. She knew then that she and her family were all going to die because of the mistake she had made in marrying Malthus. Merissa had brought the viper into her home and there was nothing she could do about it. Isranon. Isranon, why did you forsake me? If only you were here.
* * * *
Kynyr rode into the yard close to midnight. He wanted with all his heart to see Kady, but after being gone so long duty had first call upon him and he felt certain that she would understand. The members of his unit who were billeted in the family section of the manor followed him through the front door.
He had hoped to get upstairs and snatch a few hours sleep before having to deal with the household and other matters.
An aged, yet still girlish voice called out from the door to the kitchen as he passed. Kynyr, you're home."
Kynyr gestured for the rest of them to go on and get some sleep before turning to face Fianait. He wagged a teasing finger at her admonishingly. What are you doing up at this hour?"
"I couldn't sleep so I came down for a bit of chamomile tea and cakes. Fianait pulled at a strand of her thinning white hair. Join me?"
Kynyr slipped an arm around her withered shoulders. Of course."
He followed her into the kitchen, opened a cabinet, and set out a glass and a bottle of whiskey for himself. I hope you don't mind if I have something stronger?"
"Not at all. Fianait settled onto a chair, pulling her robe around herself better. I missed you."
"I missed you too. Kynyr kissed her forehead and fetched a sharp knife and a wedge of cheese. Would you like some?"
"Yes, but... Her eyes went to the knife, reminding him of her fear of sharp objects.
"I'll cut it for you."
Kynyr sliced the cheese up, sliding several pieces onto a small plate and passing that to her.
Fianiat's eyes lit on his hand. That ring was Tarrant's. Where did you get it?"
He tried to think how to phrase it. The facts felt more awkward each time he had to repeat them. Aunt Fianait, Tarrant was my grandfather."
"I knew it! I knew it. She rose from her chair, trembling and hugged him. Abruptly she pulled away from him, her expression turned serious. Claw had another heart attack while you were gone."
Kynyr sucked in a sharp breath. How bad?"
"Sheradyn says the next one will kill him."
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
REVELATIONS
Darmyk woke in the hours before dawn feeling sick and exhausted as if he had not slept at all. He reached down and patted the crotch of his pajamas. To his relief they were dry. Ever since the first time Ros bit him, Darmyk had developed a humiliating tendency to wet the bed when he had nightmares.
But then, his dreams had not been unmitigated nightmares; there had been the god-like image of his father, whom he had never met, and the striped cat that sat on his windowsill. Darmyk dragged himself out of bed and went to the window; the image of the cat had seemed so real, that he felt driven to check.
There on the windowsill were several muddy paw prints.
Darmyk smiled and tottered back to bed, feeling as if he had found a guardian angel.
* * * *
Pandeena sat on the couch in the sitting room of the Lawgiver House, staring at the two congealed pools of blood on the floor, her head on her hands, elbows propped on her knees, and eyes emptied by grief. She had not changed her clothing in two days, and wore the same loose trousers and tunic that she had when she fled to her mother's home with Clodagh. Few bitches wore trousers, most wore the same traditional robes as their granddams, and great-granddams had worn for generations, although the upper classes were more and more adopting human-style dresses. Trousers generally marked a bitch as belonging to one of two classes: battle-clansmyn and hired laborers in the farming and building professions. As a priest, Pandeena had marked herself out as an anomaly.
Hathura watched her from a chair, idly opening and closing one golden fan, w
aiting for her to recover enough to give them orders. She had told Hathura about her suspicions concerning Malthus and he wanted to run the razor-edge of the gold-chased kendaryl fan across the mon's throat and watch him bleed to death.
Hathura raised an eyebrow at his own thoughts, murmuring under his breath, Do not hunt the Faeor their friendsfor then the Fae will hunt you."
Pandeena caught part of what he had said and guessed the rest. Fetch Toniqua. If she has finished examining the shrine for clues, then she needs to do it here. After that we'll talk to Claw."
"You haven't slept yet."
"Later. I'll sleep once I know something is being done ... about the murders."
Toniqua, having spent several years working among the Assassins Guild as a healer/coroner, had taken samples from Odhran's body, including that of the semen found oozing from his anus, preserving them in special crystals. She recorded her findings, including cause of death in memory stones, and stored tissue samples in holding crystals as she had been taught by the Guild.
Hathura Jumped to the shrine and back, bringing Toniqua, and they appeared in the sitting room of the Lawgiver House in a shimmer of silver light. Toniqua carried her two satchels with the straps crisscrossing her body, and a cloth bundle of what looked like a sword and a bow case under her arm.
Toniqua ran her fingers through her dark hair. I hope you don't mind, but when I finished, some young wolves and a couple of older ones had shown up. I gave them permission to remove the bodies and prepare them for burial."
Pandeena frowned. Who were they?"
"Preece, Yren, Shalto, and Oswyl were the young ones. I got the impression that three of them live on the grounds."
"Yren doesn't. Who else?"
"Odhran's two brothers came looking for him. They started howling and keening when I told them he was dead."
"Silas and Tenny?"
Toniqua nodded as she settled the bundle and her satchels on the low table in front of a sofa. I rescued your blades and bow from the rubble. They appear to be intact."
"Thank you. Pandeena stood and armed herself. What are your findings?"
"Well, the genetic pattern of the semen is definitely sa'necari. Toniqua drew some fresh crystals, slender and pointed from her satchel, got down on her knees and examined the bloodstains on the floor. She placed her hand on the stain and her gaze turned inward. There's urine mixed in with it. At least five of them must have pissed on him. It's going to take time to sort this out."
She brought out a tiny knife and scraped samples into the crystals, sealed them and continued to examine the room. Toniqua went to a separate large pool of blood and dipped her finger into it. This isn't Caimbeul's."
"Nesswen. One of his attackers."
Toniqua nodded. Don't bother looking for the young wolf. He's dead."
"Are you certain?"
"There's no spirit left in the blood."
"When you're finished, we'll go see the chieftain."
Toniqua completed her examination of the crime scene and Pandeena chose Hathura, Meleajys, and Toniqua to walk to the manor with her. She left Jushan, Seosaf, and Gyongy at the lawgiver house.
Myn paused to stare at them as they walked down the main street. Hathura conspicuously Fae with his golden fans stuck through his belt. Diminutive Toniqua, her dark brown skin with coppery tones to it, wore a pair of short swords at her hips, and used a javelin as a walking stick. Meleajys, a dark-skinned blond, whose lanky build stretched his ropy muscles along a raw-boned frame, carried a Sharani longsword at his shoulders, a pair of stilettos up his sleeves, and a brace of throwing daggers in each of the slender baldrics crossing his chest.
Villagers nodded, but no one stopped to talk to them, even though the rumors of what had happened at the camp were already making its way through Wolffgard. The anger in Pandeena's face turned them all away.
She spied Torquil standing in the awning of the smithy watching them and an inexplicable shiver ran down her spine. He had been at the camp three days ago helping to distribute grain to the women there. Something about him had always seemed off-kilter and Pandeena could never quite interpret it.
A tiger striped tomcat slipped past Torquil and darted into the smithy. Pandeena felt a momentary startlement at the size of him, gauging him to be at least thirty-five pounds, and nearly fifteen inches at the shoulders. He had to have some wild blood in him; otherwise, Pandeena could not account for him.
When they reached the manor, Kissie let them inside and led them into the Great Hall. Aisha rose from her loom and approached. Fianait nodded from her spinning wheel and Searlait smiled from her loom, but they did not rise. Like all the females of Claw's household, they wore dresses with tight-laced bodices that forced their aging breasts up at a youthful angle and provided no accommodation for shape shifting except to the most limited degree. A full change to their hybrid form would tear the seams of the dresses.
Kynyr Maguire sat talking to Fianait. Pandeena felt a flicker of relief to see that he had returned at last.
"Is something wrong? Aisha met the anger in Pandeena's eyes, steady and calm, before flicking her glance over the newcomers.
"I need to speak with Claw."
"Is it something I can handle? I don't want him stressed. His heart...."
"I'm sorry, Aisha. It isn't. There's been a murder."
"Have you spoken to the lawgiver?"
Kynyr Maguire swiveled in his chair, took the measure of the newcomers, and rose to his feet, his eyes steely and considering. Excuse me, Fianait. I'll be back."
Pandeena's voice went chill as the north wind. He's dead. Murdered."
"Shit, Kynyr muttered under his breath, saw Finn start to rise and shook his head at his friend with a curt hand sign to stay where he was.
Aisha sucked in a breath. I'll take you up."
Pandeena heard a sharp exclamation and glanced at Claw's sisters. Fianait had gone pale and Searlait was swaying as if ready to faint. She decided that when her business was done, that it would pay to examine them both. Claw had told her that heart problems did not run in his family, that his condition was a fluke; yet seeing them right then made Pandeena wonder.
Aisha led them upstairs to the Blue Room, and Kynyr trailed after them. She went to her husband's side, and turned to look at them, her arms folded and her air defensive, as if to somehow protect him from the news that had to be spoken.
Claw sat in his usual spot near the hearth in the Blue Room, whittling. A bottle of whiskey and a glass sat on the small table next to him. A blanket had been draped across his lap, so Pandeena knew that he was still having trouble staying warm.
Belgair, Claw's Captain of the Guard, leaning against the wall near the hearth. He scowled at Kynyr. Get out of here."
Kynyr gave a slight bow of his shoulders. When Claw tells me to."
Belgair's eyes fell upon the ring that Kynyr wore, and pulled him aside. Where did you get that?"
"It was my grandfather's. Tarrant Redhand."
"You're lying."
"Am I?"
Pandeena caught the hostile edge in their voices, wondering what was going on between Belgair and Kynyr.
Kynyr stepped to Claw's side, his expression filled with ice and steel as he laid his hand on Claw's shoulder. Grandfather, there's trouble."
The chieftain placed his hand over Kynyr's. We'll deal with it."
If Pandeena had not felt so overburdened by grief and rage, she would have rejoiced to see that Kynyr had finally taken his proper place at Claw's side. I'm grateful that you've returned, Prince Kynyr."
Belgair looked as if he had been pole-axed.
Claw glanced at the newcomers. What's happened? Who are these people?"
Pandeena dropped into a chair beside Claw. My guards. Hathura from Faewin, Toniqua from Dobohmeer in Jedrua, Meleajys from Shaurone. I sent for them. There was a series of murders last night. The shrine has been desecrated."
Kynyr tensed, focusing tightly on Pandeena.
Claw's face
hardened. Who?"
"Caimbeul for one. Odhran for another. They killed Odhran on the altar of my shrine. Pandeena debated how much she should tell Claw, and then held back. Clodagh is missing. They also killed a nibari in the schoolroom. Everything is smashed and broken. Everything in my apartments, the shrine, and the schoolroom."
Malthus sauntered in with Merissa on his arm. Pandeena looked up and everything in her cried out to accuse him, but she had no proof, only a loose weave of suspicions. Pandeena winced at Merissa's swollen belly. The healer said she was carrying twins, both lycan. She was certainly belly bound enough for twins. Remembering when the marriage arch had been taken down to signify that Malthus had gotten Merissa pregnant, she was most likely due in mid to late winter.
"What's this about a murder? Malthus asked. His eyes swept over Hathura with sudden arrogance at seeing a Fae so far from his homeland.
Hathura pursed his lips, his eyes gleaming at Malthus with mischief in their depths and a hint of threat.
Aisha scowled. Not in front of Merissa in her condition. She took Merissa from Malthus. Let's go to your suite where you can rest a bit while they're discussing it."
"A good idea. Malthus gestured at the door. Go on, Darling. We can have our walk later."
Merissa started to object. Malthus frowned deeply and she gave in with a flicker of fear in her eyes.
Pandeena caught the exchange of glances and wondered what Malthus had done to make Merissa afraid of him.
"Don't go yet. Claw gestured at Aisha and his daughter. This is the second lawgiver they've killed. Aisha, I want you to take Merissa, my sisters, and Darmyk to visit your mother. Stay there until I send for you. He turned to Belgair. Tell off a guard unit to accompany them."
Aisha's eyes flashed and her lips parted in indignation. Why?"
"Because I said so."
"I don't want to go."
Claw growled deep in his throat. For once, just do as you're told. I'll send for you when I know what's going on."
"You're not well...."
"I'm still chieftain, Aisha. So long as I draw breath...."
Aisha acquiesced with a nod and placed her hand on Claw's arm. At least, let Belgair handle this. You're not well."
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