“Yes, milady,” Mey said.
“That must have terrified you,” Dulcea said, hoping to evoke some emotional reaction.
“It did.” She nodded, unaffected. “But not anymore.”
“So… you think I’ve nothing to fear from Lord Krath?”
“Milord is dangerous; you must not underestimate him.” Mey primped her dress, puffing the sleeves. “We are his servants: it keeps us from harm, but you, milady, are a stranger.”
Dulcea was chilled, but she could tell there was only honesty and not ill will behind her words.
“Do you know how I might escape harm as well?”
“No, milady,” the maid said. “It rests with Lord Krath.”
Dulcea’s curious mood deflated. She told the maids to go, wanting to ponder her situation in peace. Alone again, she examined the room with care. She did not know how long she would have to wait, so she might as well see what she could do with herself. She tried the door to find it locked and searching the walls she found no hidden servant entrances. The windows looked like they would not open without her breaking the glass, besides which she was in a tower with rocks on the ground underneath. Even if she survived the fall, how far would she get before Krath noticed her escape? Her earlier conclusion was still valid: she would rather have to coerce him to let her go.
Under the bed she discovered a chamber pot for the eventuality of relieving herself, and on a table near it rested a silver jug containing water. Two matching goblets stood next to it. There was no other food or drink available, but Dulcea assumed she needed only to tell the maids if she wanted something.
There was a small bookshelf in the room, and she looked through the volumes. It contained some histories and what some people considered romantic poetry. The histories in question she had already read, and the poetry did not interest her. She found parchments, ink, and quills, but there was not anything she cared to write at the moment. A dresser drawer revealed a lady’s workbasket with needles, cloths, and colorful threads for embroidery. Dulcea knew many human ladies preoccupied themselves with such things, but she had no interest in needlework. She pushed the basket aside and examined the drawers and chests further.
A treasure awaited her at the bottom of a chest full of knickknacks, hidden in a flat wooden box.
Dulcea took the item to a table and opened it. It was what she suspected: a painted and lacquered Dominion game board, along with an array of pieces carved out of purple and pale green stone. Dulcea had not played this game in a long time. There was no one to play against, but all the same she set the board on the table and arranged the pieces in their starting positions.
Dominion was Caeryn’s most favored board game. Both nobles and peasants played it. It required a strategic mind to achieve victory, and games between even opponents sometimes lasted for several hours. The player pieces comprised three individual statuettes: The Sovereign, the Lady, and the Castle, along with a handful of soldier pieces on each player’s side. The game board was octagon-shaped, and at its center was a deep hollow called the Moat. Dominion’s victory requirement was forcing the other player’s Sovereign into the Moat. Dulcea had spent many an evening playing the game with her fellow enchanters.
Dulcea spent the afternoon playing Dominion, her little mind game morphing into a strategy of war on the board. At some point it was dusk, and the maid Violetta entered, bringing her food.
“Your supper, milady.” She curtsied to her.
After nightfall, Violetta came again and announced that Lord Krath wanted her.
Dulcea stood up, straightened her dress, and followed the maid. Something like curiosity mixed with nervousness tickled her stomach. Violetta led her to the upper levels of the main keep and showed her into a solar. The vampire stood there with his back to the door, gazing out of a window with his hands clasped behind his back. Violetta withdrew without a word, leaving Dulcea alone with him.
He turned to face her. “How are you this evening, my lady?”
“I am fine, my lord,” she said, trying to keep the fear and uncertainty out of her voice. She hoped to find him still indecisive about her fate. She hoped she would survive the night.
“I hear you have been preoccupied,” he said. “You are fond of Dominion?”
“Sometimes.” She realized he must have questioned Violetta about her day’s activities.
Krath smirked. “It just so happens that I am sometimes fond of the game as well. Alas, there is always the trouble of finding someone worthy to play against.”
That earned him a sympathetic smile. “I know what you mean, my lord.”
“Oh? You have trouble with that, too, my lady?”
“I’ve played but little since I left the White Tower.” She shrugged. “My generals and advisers are exasperating opponents: they seem inclined to let me win.”
Krath looked amused.
“That is terrible of them. They ought to challenge their leader instead of letting her grow soft. And the dragons? Would they let you win as well?”
“It has never occurred to me to ask.”
“Well, I suppose it would be a little presumptuous to assume so.”
“Presumptuous, my lord?”
“That they might assume a humanoid form just to play a game.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You think that’s possible?”
Krath shrugged. “You hear a lot of things in fifteen hundred years.”
He moved to a table near the hearth then, and Dulcea saw a Dominion board with the pieces set upon it. Krath held a chair for her, and the right corner of his mouth curved up into a wry half-smile. He looked very handsome when he smiled like that, even when the smile was not entirely kind.
“Come and sit, my lady,” he said. “Let us find out how clever you are.”
Chapter 5
The Game
Dulcea sat with her back to the hearth, the game between them on the table. Despite the sardonic half-smile on Krath’s countenance, Dulcea felt safer again. It was clear she still had some entertainment value to him, and that would buy her more time. The vampire seemed to welcome her questions and was not averse to engaging her in conversation. Despite her misgivings, Dulcea was eager to speak with him.
“You will move first, my lady,” he said, “and you will give me your best game. I shall be cross with you if I notice you let me win just to humor me.”
“Fair enough, my lord.” She nodded. “But I must warn you I am an average player at most.”
Dulcea moved her first piece. The board was even finer than the one in her room, and the player pieces were beautiful and elaborate little carved figurines. Krath’s dark pieces were rosewood and her creamy yellow ones were sandalwood.
She observed him. “Have you considered my offer, my lord?”
He glanced at her, moving one of his soldiers. “I have, yes. I thank you for the offer, my lady, but the answer is no.”
Dulcea swallowed her disappointment. At least he had considered the exchange; it was more than she had dared to hope. Perhaps she could still secure her escape, if only she found the right incentive.
“You’ve no use for such a valuable object as my Staff then?”
“I cannot say. You are far more valuable than your Staff. It would be a poor exchange.”
“I am flattered you consider me valuable.” Her cheeks pinked.
He grinned. “Besides which, I already possess your Golden Staff of the Suns.”
Dulcea looked up at him in startled wonder.
“You do? How did you come by it?”
“How would you think? I paid Warlord Turendar a visit and made him part with it.”
Ah. She connected the dots in her mind map. That explained why he was not in Gwyndoorn earlier.
“Did you also retrieve the golden dragonstone?”
“I did, yes.”
Something between nervous excitement and hesitant worry fluttered in her breast. Dulcea was unsure how to feel.
She tried to keep her mind o
n the game. Krath had moved all his pieces out into the open, and she used one of her soldiers to remove his Castle from the board. He did not appear surprised by this.
“You saw the Sarusean commander?” she asked. “How did you discover his whereabouts?”
“I shadowed a messenger,” he said, his eyes following her as she took one of his soldiers. “A lucky chance, that.”
“Where was he?” She paused mid-movement to question him.
“He was at a mill near a village called Bonecross. You would not know the place: it is insignificant, and anyway it would not matter. He will not be there for long. I suspect he has departed already.”
She frowned. “He is still alive?”
“Yes, he lives. We only chatted for a few moments.”
“About what, if I may ask?”
“Oh, mere trifles.” Krath made a swishing movement with his hand. “He detested my involvement in the matter of your rescue. He was even less happy when I showed up to steal his other spoils of war as well.”
“Why did you not kill him?” Dulcea pinched her lips together.
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Why? Was I supposed to?”
“Isn’t that what you do, my lord?” She wrinkled her nose. “Kill people?”
“You misunderstand me, my lady.” The vampire sounded calm, but something in his tone made Dulcea think she had offended him. “I do not just blindly slaughter people. I kill for nourishment and when someone stands in my way. Your Warlord Turendar was smart enough to flee rather than to fight me, so I let him go. I was only there for your Golden Staff of the Suns.”
She swallowed. “I thought you said you had no interest in the Staff or the dragonstone.”
He tapped his chin. “Correct, I do not, but you were right about one thing, my lady: one should not leave such items in Sarusean hands.”
“Where is the Staff now?”
“In a safe place.”
“May I see it?” Her voice wavered just the slightest bit, betraying her excitement.
Krath considered her request for a moment and then used his Lady to take one of Dulcea’s soldiers.
He smirked. “If you win, I will show you where it is.”
“That sounds like a challenge,” Dulcea said, looking down at the board to hide a smile.
It still seemed to her like he was leaving himself wide open, and she had taken twice as many pieces from him as he from her. She used her castle figurine to take his Lady.
The vampire leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, and observed her moves on the board. “Have you ever killed anyone, my lady?”
“No, my lord,” Dulcea said, her posture stiffening.
“You ought to consider yourself fortunate the golden dragonstone did not belong to anyone. On average, these items are not just found lying around like that.”
She did not look at him. “I know.”
“But if it had belonged to someone, could you have killed its former owner?”
“What? No,” she said, fisting her hands. “Never.”
He leaned forward. “Even if the fate of the world depended on it?”
Dulcea hesitated. “I… I am sure I would have found another way.”
“Indeed.” His lips curled into a sneer. “What about that Sarusean commander then?”
“What about him, my lord?”
“I can tell you wish I had killed him.”
Dulcea was about to deny this, but she checked herself and decided she needed to be honest.
“It would have made me rest easier, my lord.”
“You seem eager for other people to do your killing for you, my lady. If you yourself had the chance to end him, could you stick a knife into his black heart?”
Krath’s Sovereign took her Castle. Dulcea thought about his question while performing a move of her own.
“I cannot answer a theory I have not yet considered. They say it stains a man’s soul. That is why I became an enchanter. I can defeat my enemies without bloodshed.”
Krath gave a dark chuckle.
“Without bloodshed? Tens of thousands of people have died in your rebellion, Lady Dulcea. Tens of thousands more will still die before this war is over. This continent has seen more bloodshed in the past five years than in the full century before that, and you seem to think you have clean hands.”
Anger flashed in her eyes. “I never said that!”
“No? You do not see the double standard here? Your conscience does not trouble you about sending other people to murder your enemies, but you quail at the thought of holding the sword yourself. I am sure it makes you rest easier, not having to watch people die right in front of you.”
Dulcea stiffened at this insult and stared at him. She tapped her fingers to her thigh. The vampire moved a piece of his on the board, and she realized his Sovereign would take hers in the next move. Her doom was inevitable, and she could do nothing to prevent it. It had looked like he was sacrificing his defenses, when in fact he had been baiting a trap all along. Dulcea leaned back from the board, resigned to her impending defeat.
“I am not a soldier,” she said. “What use would I be as an assassin? Even if given a blade, I would not know how to wield it. It is more economic for me to focus on the things I know. We all have our own lot to play in this war. Does that make me a hypocrite?”
“No, but it still makes you a killer. Regardless of who swings the blade, you are the one giving the order. Your actions have left people dead, crippled, homeless, and without a family. You have widowed women and orphaned children. Tell me, my lady, does it make you proud?”
She gritted her teeth. “Did you bring me here so you could scold me, my lord?”
“No.” He shook his head, a few black strands of hair falling on his face. “I mean neither to scold nor to insult you. Such is not my intention. I would have you face the truth, except that perhaps it is too bitter for you?”
“I fully intend to face the consequences of my actions,” she said.
She then made the only move available to her in the game; Krath would take her Sovereign next.
“I have no illusions about my share in this war. But there is more to the truth than that.”
“Tell me.”
“If only the Saruseans were just rulers, there would be no reason for us to rebel. If only they treated us well, it would not matter who ruled which kingdom, but after hundreds of years we are still inferior creatures to them. Any Sarusean can walk up to any Caerynian and take everything he owns. They can kill our men and rape our women, and they consider that acceptable. I want to put an end to this. Countless have suffered and died under the Sarusean rule, and countless yet will if we are to win our freedom. However, after this war is over such injustice as existed under the Saruseans will not occur again.”
“Take care not to make promises you cannot keep, my lady.”
“This is not some fanciful dream I have. We are closer now than ever to the end of the war.”
Krath grinned and ended the game with his Sovereign.
“It seems to me you are finished.”
“So, it does. Congratulations.”
He frowned. “Was this truly your best, my lady? I expected more of a challenge from you.”
“I fear my skills are rusty.” Dulcea sighed, running a hand through her hair.
Losing the game did not upset her, but she realized with quiet alarm she should not let Krath grow tired of her. His boredom was an enemy as real as any other. She needed to undo the dissatisfaction gnawing at his favorable image of her before he decided she was not worth his time. Dulcea straightened herself.
She gave him her best smile. “Could I interest you in another round of this game, my lord?”
“You would only lose again,” he said, unimpressed.
Dulcea squared her shoulders. “Or I might surprise you. Humor me, my lord. It has been a long time since I last played this game.”
“I am supposed to humor you?” He raised his brows, but she could tell her
request pleased him.
“You are immortal. What is one night spent on humoring me?”
A smile tugged at his lips, twisting one corner upwards. “A night well spent; I hope.”
He arranged the pieces back into their starting positions. Dulcea reconsidered her earlier moves and attempted something different. Her whole focus was on the game, making their conversation lag.
She lasted only a while longer. Krath quirked an eyebrow at her, and she pleaded for another rematch. He agreed without comment this time, and they played again. Dulcea kept losing one game after another, but she kept trying, and the vampire admitted at some point that he found her persistence to be both amusing and refreshing.
Dulcea was getting frustrated. She had fathomed she had a fair chance against him, but it was getting clear now that Krath was a masterful player. It was impossible to predict his moves. Fenwer, her colleague from her Tower days, had been a superior player, but Krath was far above his level. The vampire seemed to read her game with keen precision. He was always several steps ahead.
Dulcea did not want to give up. Another pastime might not hold his interest, and his amusement at her efforts might have been all that was keeping her alive. Whenever she lost, she gave him her most charming smile and requested another round at the game. She watched him with sharp eyes, trying to uncover the strategy in his moves, as detecting a pattern would mean finding a way around it.
Their conversation picked up again after a while, and Dulcea realized she rather enjoyed it. The vampire was direct but truthful. His words were provocative, like he was testing her, but Dulcea did not let him influence her. She found it refreshing how he talked to her without the roundabout cordiality to which she was so accustomed. She even accepted from him the kind of unpleasant criticism she would never tolerate from her generals. It was not because she was under his power, but because—in a lot of ways—he was right.
“You brought about your own downfall,” Krath said to her somewhere amid their tenth or eleventh game. “You know that, don’t you?”
Dulcea eyed the board. “Not yet, my lord.”
“I was not talking about the game just now, my lady. I meant your presence here.”
Immortal Defiance Page 7