Sweep of the Blade

by Ilona Andrews

  “Because he is my uncle and I sought his counsel.”

  “No, foolish child. Why does he approve?”

  “You would have to ask him.”

  Ilemina shook her head. “Both of you have lost your minds. You brought this woman here. She didn’t introduce herself. You didn’t even talk to me about her. You didn’t seek my counsel.”

  “And for that you decided to kill the woman I love?”

  Maud shivered in the water. He said he loves me. For a second, she simply glowed in it and then reality intruded, and she put her hand over her face. What am I, twelve?

  “I wasn’t trying to kill her. I was… frustrated. And there she was, wearing armor as if she knew what to do with it.”

  “She does,” Arland said.

  “Well, I know that now.” Ilemina waved her hand. “It went too far. I admit it.”

  “If this was a real fight, you would be dead.”

  Ilemina laughed, a low wolfish sound that raised hair on the back of Maud’s neck. “You presume too much.”

  Arland smiled. “You assume she would meet you in a duel. She wouldn’t. One day you would travel somewhere, step out of the vehicle, suspecting nothing, and there she would be with her blade. If she didn’t cut your head off with the first strike, she’d let you win until you got close enough to her, spit poison gas into your face, then run you through and be gone before anyone was the wiser.”

  “So, she’s an assassin,” Ilemina said.

  “No. She’s a woman who had been dumped on Karhari with a three-year-old child and a husband who was a snake. She is a survivor. She doesn’t fight for fun or glory. She fights to eliminate the threat. Every time she draws her sword, it’s life or death. She gives it everything, because her child’s life hangs in the balance. Of all people, I thought you would relate.”

  Ilemina fell silent. “I’ll say that, sparring with her was an illuminating experience.”

  “It is.”

  “And the child is adorable.” Ilemina smiled. “The daggers were so cute.”

  “I’ve seen her kill with those daggers,” Arland said.

  “The baby, Helen?”

  He nodded. “She cut a Draziri’s assassin’s throat in the middle of a battle. She did it the right way, mother.”

  Ilemina recoiled, shocked.

  Maud ducked her head under the water and wished she were a better mother. Helen shouldn’t know how to kill. Sitting under water wouldn’t change that fact, but she would have given everything to take that back from Helen.

  She surfaced.

  “But why?” Ilemina asked.

  “Karhari,” he said. He was right. That was the only explanation needed.

  “What sort of House exiles a child?” Ilemina growled.

  “The kind of House that’s beneath our contempt.”

  Ilemina sighed. “You really love her?”

  “Yes.”

  “But are you sure, Arland? Are you sure she would make you happy?”

  “Yes, mother. Give her a chance. At least find out who you’re dealing with before you reject her.”

  “And if I do reject her? If I reject this union?”

  “I’ll go with her,” he said.

  Maud fell off the shelf and splashed, scrambling back on it.

  “Arland, you wouldn’t dare!”

  “You walked away with Father. I don’t see any reason why I can’t do the same.”

  She opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “You’re a Marshal.”

  “So were you. You’ll just have to replace me with another.”

  “What if she rejects you?”

  “I’ll respect her wishes.”

  Ilemina threw her hands in the air. “This is blackmail, Arland.”

  “No, it’s a boundary. Your blessing isn’t necessary, Mother. But I would like to have it. I know she would, too. She respects you a great deal. She’s a daughter of the Innkeepers. She has vast knowledge and understanding. She will be a great asset to the House.”

  Ilemina held up her hand. “I will give her a chance. But only a chance, Arland. I will make up my own mind. If she stumbles, if she endangers you in any way…”

  Arland bowed his head. “Thank you, Mother.”

  The recording faded out.

  Maud leaned back against the tub. He would leave with her.

  She wouldn’t ask for that sacrifice. She had no right. If she wanted him – truly wanted him – she had to make sure not to stumble.

  Chapter 8

  The door chimed. Arland. Finally. They had things to discuss. She planned to open with “The Lees are spying on your mother, and here is the recording of that conversation you had with her.” If her prior experiences with vampires in general and Arland in particular were anything to go by, it would take her at least twenty minutes to talk sense into him and convince him against doing something drastic like kicking Nuan Cee and his furry clan out of the castle.

  Maud checked the time. After her bath, she’d tracked Helen down through her daughter’s personal unit. Helen and Ymanie charmed some dessert out of the kitchen staff and were eating it on the balcony of one of the towers. Helen begged for more time, and Maud had given her another hour. That was twenty minutes ago. Plenty of time left for a private conversation with Arland.

  Maud paused before the door, trying to compose her thoughts. Things refused to line up in her head. Words like “love” and “leave” buzzed around in there, muddying things up. Get a grip. You’re not a lovesick teenager. You’re a grown adult.

  The door chimed again, then again. Not Arland.

  “Show the guest,” she said.

  A screen opened above the door, showing Karat. The vampire knight tapped her foot on the floor, her arms crossed.

  What now?

  “Accept.”

  The door slid open and Karat stormed inside.

  “What is it?” Maud asked.

  “I have urgent news.”

  “I’m beginning to wonder if you bring any other kind.”

  A careful knock echoed through the chamber. It came from the side door, from the passage connecting her rooms to Arland’s. Maud crossed the chamber and opened. Arland stepped inside. He must’ve stopped by the medic as well, because the bruises on his face had faded to almost nothing.

  “Lady Maud.”

  “My Lord Marshal.”

  He saw Karat. Something snapped in Arland’s eyes. Maud had a sneaking suspicion it might have been his patience.

  “Why are you here?” he growled. “Why are you always here? Do you not have any other duties, cousin?”

  Yes, definitely his patience.

  Karat’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry, did I frustrate your intentions? Were you about to make an awkward love pronouncement? Perhaps follow it with a sonnet you’d composed?”

  Arland’s expression turned ice cold. “The nature of my conversations with my fiancé are none of your business.”

  “One would think that a man in your position would be grateful that a female relative is trying to safeguard his not-fiancé.”

  “A man in my position would be grateful for a bit of privacy!”

  “You can have privacy when you’re dead!”

  They glared at each other.

  Right. She’d been in enough sibling battles to know exactly where this would end. “My lady.”

  “What?” Karat snarled.

  “Urgent news?” Maud prompted.

  “Go ahead,” Arland said. “The sooner we hear this, the faster you can leave.”

  “I came here to tell your not-fiance,” Karat said, looking at Arland, “that the bride just invited her to the Lantern Vigil.”

  Well, that was unexpected.

  Arland swore.

  “When?” Maud asked.

  “We leave in thirty minutes.”

  Arland swore again. Clearly, this whole situation was getting to him.

  “What in the icy plains do they want with her?” Arland asked.


  “I don’t know,” Karat said. “You have to go, Maud. If you refuse…”

  “It will be an insult. I know. I had the Lantern Vigil for my wedding.”

  It was an ancient wedding ritual, born from myth and love. A thousand years ago a vampire knight had gone to war against the interstellar invaders. His fiancé, who had been crippled in battle, had to stay behind. Every week, despite her injury, she made a long journey to the sacred vala tree high on the mountain and hung a new lantern on its branches, praying that her fiancé would come home. When he returned, years later, triumphant, he saw the vala tree out of the window of his shuttle. It glowed with lanterns, a symbol of his beloved’s devotion.

  Nobody remembered the couple’s names, but countless vampire brides made the journey to a vala tree carefully planted somewhere in the wilderness, preferably on a mountain trail. They were accompanied by the young women from the bridal party. The journey had to be made on foot. No armor. No weapons. No men.

  “Can you get her out of it?” Arland asked.

  “They specifically asked for her by name. It came directly from the bride.”

  “What do they want with her?” He frowned.

  “I don’t know.” Karat grimaced. “The bridal tree is five miles up the trail. The terrain is steep, and the path is narrow, bordering a cliff. We will end up walking single file half of the way. The order in which we walk is predetermined by the bride. Maud will be walking between Onda and Seveline.”

  Of course.

  “I will be three women ahead of them. If something happens, I won’t even know.”

  “You think they could push her off the path?” Arland’s eyes blazed.

  “I wouldn’t put it past them.”

  “To what end?”

  Karat waved her arms. “To piss you off. To upset the wedding. For their amusement, because they are evil bitches.”

  Maud cleared her throat. The two vampires looked at her.

  “I will be fine,” she said. “I’m hard to kill. Better people tried and failed. Besides, it’s unlikely they would bump me off. I’m an honored guest. If I die, Arland would withdraw from the wedding to mourn me and they have a particular interest in him.”

  “That sounds thin to me,” Karat said.

  “I’m better out of armor than they are. But I’ll need a booster,” Maud said. Walking five miles to the tree and five miles back would definitely count as “strenuous activity.” Under normal circumstances, she could hike it, but considering everything her body had been through in the last few hours, she would need help.

  “No problem,” Karat said.

  Arland locked his teeth. The muscles on the corners of his jaw stood out. If Maud were one hundred percent honest with herself, she had to admit she liked it.

  “A coin for your thoughts, Lord Marshal?”

  He unhinged his jaws. “There is nothing I can do to remedy this situation,” he said, his voice so calm, it was almost eerie. “To refuse the invitation is a grave insult. The only acceptable excuse would be physical incapacitation. If we were to tell them that you were injured, there would be questions. First, how did you get injured? Why would House Krahr let a human guest come to harm? And if I were to disclose the true reason for your injuries, I would be throwing away the element of surprise, which may be the only advantage you might have should your life be in danger.”

  He looked so put out, she had to needle him. “Not the only advantage,” Maud told him. “There is also my sexy human allure.”

  Karat choked on a laugh.

  Arland shut his eyes for a long moment and fixed her with a glacial stare. “I implore you to take this seriously.”

  “Never underestimate the impact of a strategic hip roll.” Where was she even going with this? It’s like she couldn’t stop. “I’m sure some ladies within the bridal party would be intrigued if properly motivated. If I get in trouble, I’ll just bite my lip seductively and twirl my hair…”

  “Maud!” he snapped.

  “You know I have to go,” she told him. “They are planning something, and they think I’m both too stupid and too weak to be a threat. They count on me being a source of information.”

  “I’m going to keep a shuttle on standby,” Arland said. “If something happens…”

  “I will call you for assistance. Meanwhile, it would put my mind at ease if you would keep an eye on Helen.”

  “I will,” he said.

  “Thank you,” she told him.

  “A human goes off to walk the Lantern Vigil, while my cousin the Marshal stays home to babysit,” Karat said. “I realize now why I have never fallen in love. I’m entirely too sane for this nonsense.”

  The steep path climbed along the side of the mountain, barely a foot wide. Maud shifted her grip on the slender staff in her hand. The lantern hanging from the staff’s forked end swayed, the orange flames dancing behind the translucent glass. To the right of her, the mountain rose, the grey rock scarred by rain and stained by patches of green and turquoise vegetation that somehow found purchase in the near sheer cliff face. To the left, a dizzying drop to the rocks and trees far below promised a few seconds of terror before a gruesome death. Back on Earth there would have been guard rails and signs at the bottom of the path warning visitors to be careful and that they ascended at their own peril.

  In front of Maud a procession of women walked, each carrying a lantern on her staff. More women followed. They stretched along the path, twenty in all, anonymous in their identical white robes, their heads hidden by wide hoods. A gentle tinkling of the bells from the bride’s staff floated on the breeze. Invisible insects buzzed in the crevices, reminding Maud of the cicadas from Dina’s garden back home, at their parents’ inn that no longer existed. The air smelled of strange flowers and potent herbs.

  Maud kept walking, her body unusually light and slightly jittery, as if she had too much coffee. She had to fight the urge to skip. The booster Karat brought her had worked wonders. She would have at least four, maybe five hours of this excited state, and then she would crash. They had been walking for the better part an hour. Since the tree was about five miles up the trail, they had to be getting close. Plenty of time to finish the hike and get off the mountain.

  Maud stared at Onda’s back in front of her. She had expected them to make some sort of move by now. A conversation in low voices was permitted during the Vigil, but so far, they made no move to engage her.

  As if on cue, Seveline cleared her throat behind her, the words in Ancestor Vampiric soft, barely a whisper. “We could just push her off this path.”

  Maud kept walking. If Seveline did push her, she didn’t have many options.

  Ahead Onda sighed. “And how would we explain that?”

  “Clumsy human fell.”

  “No.”

  “I can make it look like an accident.”

  “Seveline, find another way to amuse yourself. We can’t risk him withdrawing from the wedding to mourn her.”

  Figured. Maud hid a smile. They needed Arland for something. The question was, what?

  “How far is this damn tree?” Seveline murmured in Common Vampiric.

  “Seveline,” Onda hissed. “Be respectful. Kavaline is your cousin.”

  “Twice removed,” Seveline murmured.

  This called for a snicker. Maud made a light coughing noise.

  “Did you have a Lantern Vigil for your wedding, Lady Maud?” Seveline asked.

  Dangerous territory. She didn’t just have the Lantern Vigil, she had the Flower Lament, and the Cathedral Fasting, and every other archaic ritual House Erwan could dig up. Admitting all that would make her appear less clueless, which Maud couldn’t afford.

  “To be honest, I barely remember any of it,” Maud said, trying to make her voice sincere and slightly sad. “It was very different from human weddings. I lost track of it all at some point and it became a blur.”

  “Sounds like a typical wedding,” Onda said.

  “I’m not planning on getting
married for a while,” Seveline announced.

  “Who would be fool enough to marry you?” Onda muttered.

  “She’s so mean to me,” Seveline whined.

  Maud obliged with another snicker. They were putting on a show for her benefit. She hated to disappoint.

  “Are you going to marry the Lord Marshal?” Seveline asked.

  “It’s complicated,” Maud said.

  “I say don’t do it,” Seveline said. “Live free.”

  “She has a child to think about,” Onda said. “Has the Lord Marshal made any assurances as to the child’s future?”

  They were definitely fishing, but for what? “We haven’t entered into any formalized agreement.”

  Onda’s voice floated to her. “But Lord Arland knows he is the marshal and Krahr is an aggressive house. They love war. He must’ve acknowledged his life is frequently in danger.

  “Onda is right,” Seveline added. “To not have a contingency plan would be irresponsible. Men often are, but not when a spouse and children are concerned.”

  What were they after? “I’m aware of the dangers,” Maud said, letting just enough sadness through.

  “But of course you are,” Onda said. “You’ve been widowed.”

  “Husbands don’t always last,” Seveline said.

  “I cannot believe that, with your history, the Marshal hasn’t made at least some arrangements to reassure you,” Onda said, slight outrage vibrating in her voice.

  “He has to have done something,” Seveline added.

  “Has he mentioned anyone?” Onda asked. “Someone who might take care of you and your daughter in case of an emergency? Someone who would accept that noble responsibility?”

  It hit her like a lightning bolt. They were after the under-marshal. Of course.

  As a marshal, Arland was in charge of the totality of Krahr’s armed forces. He commanded every fighter, every war animal, every military vehicle, no matter if it was a two-seater land runner or a space destroyer. If it could fight and belonged to Krahr, it answered to Arland. He was in possession of codes, passwords, and command sequences. If Arland was incapacitated, Krahr’s military would find itself adrift. To avoid that, every vampire house large enough to have a marshal also had an under-marshal, a secret second-in-command who possessed a duplicate of everything that gave Arland power and access. If anything happened, the under-marshal would step in, the transfer of power would be seamless, and Krahr would continue to fight until the threat passed and a new marshal could be appointed. Until then, the under-marshal would assume all of Arland’s responsibilities, including his obligation for the safety of his spouse and children.