Blood & Stone: The Saboteur Chronicles Book 3

by J. V. Roberts

  “I’ll have to buy him flowers upon my return.”

  “You’re being watched, Dominic; know that.”

  Dominic granted him a tight-lipped smile. “Oh, I know. And I’m truly flattered.”

  Fed up, Eirik grimaced, spurred his horse, and charged back to the front of the line.

  “Mister Dominic, I think you got under his skin.” Hawthorne stood in his saddle to watch Eirik ride away.

  “That’s the aim, kid.” Dominic smiled and patted his horse on the neck. “That’s always the aim.”

  ***

  “The rate they’re riding, the fucks will be here at midday tomorrow.” Draxus was moving nimbly through the tunnels, Byron at his side, his three Vipers taking up the rear; they were on their way to the throne room where his best men were waiting. Draxus carried his maul in his right hand, the cords of muscle in his forearm bulging beneath the skin.

  “I can’t believe they chose to ride out after you.” Byron’s voice was shaky and apologetic. “That’s not like them. We’ve never gone on the offensive.”

  “You’ve been wrong a lot lately, Byron. I’m surprised you’re not growing used to it.”

  “Now, Draxus—”

  “I want you to start calling me Master; you’ve lost the privilege of using my first name.”

  “I don’t…is that really necc—”

  Draxus’ hand closed around Byron’s throat, slammed him against the wall, and pulled him up to his tip-toes. “My men died scooping up Emily. And for what? So she could tell me something that you should have known. And now, contrary to your confident predictions, I find out from my scouts that there’s an army riding my way, intent on my destruction. You’ve offered me no benefit. All you’ve been is another mouth to feed. We had a deal, motherfucker: I help you get your revenge and you help me reclaim what’s mine.” Draxus’ pressed harder, sending the jagged rock digging deep into Byron’s scalp. “You’re not holding up your end of the bargain.” Draxus paused and took in a deep breath as if restraining an even deeper rage, one that would cause him to squeeze Byron’s head right off his shoulders, “Now, call me Master, you wormy, Anthenian fuck or I’ll rip you apart and feed you to my Vipers.”

  Byron looked at the Vipers through bloodshot eyes; their sinewy bodies tight and ready to strike; they’d chew the flesh from his bones if ordered.

  “M…mast…er,” Byron croaked as his head began to swim.

  “Good.”

  Byron fell to his knees, gasping.

  “Now, keep up. We’ve got to get ready to welcome our guests.”

  Byron pulled himself up the wall and when he had his breath he ran to catch Draxus.

  “Where are you going to want me during all this?” Byron was walking behind the Vipers, speaking over their shoulders.

  “You’re going to be on the front lines with the rest of the men; where else would I put you?”

  The tunnel took a sharp right turn and the ceiling sloped, causing all of them—except the Viper they called Mirela—to duck in order to avoid smacking their heads.

  “Don’t you think that’s a bit dangerous…Master?”

  “Of course it’s dangerous. It’s battle. It's men trying to kill each other. That’s the whole point, is it not?”

  “Some would say so, yes.”

  “But not you, right? You’re a goddamn pussy, right? You’ve never killed a man, at least not without a knife to your throat and a threat ringing in your ear.”

  “I fear…well, I mean, I think that we should consider the possibility that they might specifically target me since they think I’m a traitor.”

  “You are a traitor,” Draxus yawned.

  “Yes, that’s true, I guess. But they’re going to try to assassinate me.” Byron tried to get closer, desperate to make his case, but one of the Viper’s turned and hissed.

  “You have a flare for the dramatic.” Draxus laughed. “Fine. I’ll give you one of my Vipers to help protect you from the big, bad Anthenians.”

  “That’s not—”

  Draxus swung around. “Were you about to object to my generous offer?”

  “No, I—” Byron slipped and fell back onto his butt, hands raised in self-defense.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to hurt my feelings.”

  “That’s not what I was trying to do. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “Tell me what I want to hear, or meet your end.”

  “Th…thank you, Master.” It was almost a question.

  “I suppose that’ll do.” Draxus snapped his fingers. “Mirela, he is your pet. Do with him as you will. But don’t lose him. Jehona, Besilina, with me.”

  As Draxus continued on with the other two Vipers, Mirela stood over him. “You belong to me now.” There was nothing sinister in her voice; it was just a statement of fact. “You will call me Mirela, nothing more. You will follow my commands without question. You will only speak when I speak to you. Do you understand what I have said?”

  Byron nodded.

  “Good. Now stand and follow me.”

  “Where are we going?”

  She slapped him. “You get one warning. You follow my commands without question. Understand, stupid Anthenian?”

  He nodded, holding his face, blood bubbling up where her nails had broken through the skin.

  “Follow me. Now.”

  This time he didn’t question, he just followed.

  40

  Lerah and Roserine sat beneath the railing at the top of the lighthouse, their feet dangling over the edge, sharing a bottle of wine (their second). Night had fallen. The market was closed. The only things moving below them were the fishing boats and the soldiers performing their rounds.

  “Can’t stop thinking about him, can you?” Roserine was holding onto the railing above her head, staring down into the inky darkness.

  Lerah nodded and took another swig from the bottle; her head was starting to spin a little. “He’s on my mind. But it’s Hawthorne I’m more concerned with if you want the truth.”

  “I’m sure Dominic will look after him; I’m sure you will see your men again.” Roserine was starting to dangle a bit as she leaned further over the ledge.

  “Dominic thinks he can save everyone; probably thinks he can save this whole kingdom. I told you how he is, about the weight he puts on himself.”

  “How was it for you the first time you were…in the shit?” Her words were thick and sticky from the alcohol.

  Lerah smiled at the sound of her swearing; it was forced and endearing. “Me and Dominic were at an inn and we got ambushed while we were sleeping. It was fast; so fucking fast. I can’t even describe it…I thought I was going to die; was convinced of it.” She heard Roserine scoot closer. “They were firing machine guns. It was chaos. I ducked my head and hoped for the best. Dominic killed them all; slaughtered them. He led me out of that room and I remember I was shaking. I remember seeing the blood. I wasn’t used to it then, but you get used to it pretty quick.”

  “I saw a lot of blood as a kid; friends, neighbors, my own mother’s. I’ve seen people die. But yesterday…that was different.”

  “How’re you doing with it?”

  “Pretty okay, actually.”

  “Yeah?” Lerah took her hand and held it, setting it in her own lap; the contact was comforting.

  “During that fight, I felt nothing except anger and a desire to live. My only regret is that I couldn’t kill them fast enough to stop them from taking Emily.” She squeezed Lerah’s hand as a tiny sob escaped her lips.

  “I haven’t spent much time in battle; not compared to someone like Dominic. But I’ve learned a few things from the time I have spent there and from the things I’ve heard Dominic say.” She turned so she was facing Roserine, tucking her left leg under her right thigh. “We talked about this. You remember what you said to me about letting stuff go? It’s the same thing here; you’ve got to trust that you did the best you could and that you made the right
decision.” Lerah shook her hand to get her to look up. “Just like with your brother. Just like with every decision you’ve made for Anthena. You made the best decision using the information you had on hand. You’re always going to have that what if shit eating at you; it’s just something you learn to deal with.”

  “Did I, though? Did I make the best decision? Perhaps if I’d ordered the men to attack, Emily would have…” Her voice trailed off.

  “You gave Emily her best chance at surviving this. That’s what you did.”

  Roserine nodded, her glossy eyes shimmering in the moonlight. “I just wish I was out there.”

  “I think you’re a bit too drunk to be anywhere right now; except here with me, of course.”

  Roserine laughed and took the bottle. She finished it in one gulp and turned it loose, letting it smash against the rocks below. “Oops.” She began laughing like a woman gone mad. She fell forward into Lerah’s arms and sat her head against her chest. “I think I’ve been bewitched by you.”

  “Oh, you have; trust me.”

  Roserine sighed as Lerah stroked her hair. “I wish it were the alcohol talking. But I’ve got feelings for you. It’s not something I tried to make happen. Gods know I tried to convince myself that it was just a bit of fun. A fling. A wild and rebellious moment that I could look back and smile about in the future. But it didn’t work. There’s something between us. Don’t you feel it?”

  “Yes, I do.” The sweet smell of roses emanated from Roserine’s hair and mixed with the alcohol on her breath. “And it’s confusing. And exciting. And…”

  “Will never work.” Roserine rolled to her back as Lerah cradled her head. “Tell me why again?”

  “Because I’m in love with Dominic and I don’t think he’s willing to share me.”

  “Ah yes, that bastard.”

  Lerah snorted. “Yes, that bastard.”

  Roserine closed her eyes, folding her hands across her stomach. “I think I could fall asleep like this.”

  “Feel free.” Lerah leaned back against the wall. “I’m used to sleeping sitting up.”

  As they both began to drift, there was a racket on the stairs.

  Roserine jumped up and drew her sword.

  Lerah was less panicked; she was up on one knee, hands near her daggers.

  “Who is it?” Lerah shouted.

  “It’s me, Coen.” He emerged from the darkness, one hand raised, the other holding a bottle of alcohol. “Figured you ladies might be up here; knocked on Lerah’s door and didn’t see you at the tavern. Needed someone,” he stumbled and caught himself on the rail, “to sulk with.”

  Roserine sheathed her sword. “You’ve come to the right place.”

  He fell beside them. “I feel like I’m going crazy. If the wall wasn’t sealed up tight, I’d have been over it and running north long ago.”

  “We’re all going crazy,” Lerah said. “All we can do is wait.”

  “And drink,” Roserine added.

  “That I can do.” He took a symbolic sip and smacked his lips.

  “What do you think they’re doing right now?” Lerah asked, thinking of Dominic and Hawthorne as she looked toward the north wall.

  Roserine settled back down in her lap and shut her eyes. “It’s a long ride. I imagine they’re setting up camp. Perhaps cooking dinner. Chatting. Hopefully thinking of you as much as you’re thinking of them.”

  Lerah hoped they were focusing on staying alive.

  ***

  Dominic tore off a piece of fish and handed it to Hawthorne. The men had made camp for the night and had paired off around small fires; they were cooking their meals and unwinding with conversation and wine.

  “A few swigs and that’s it boys; I need your wits sharp for what’s to come. Chances are that we cross swords with those bastards tomorrow.” Eirik was walking between the clusters of soldiers, reciting the same words, watching them carefully for any signs of drunkenness.

  Dominic and Hawthorne had paired off alone. It wasn’t like they’d had much choice in the matter; the rest of the troops were avoiding them like the plague.

  “I don’t think they like us.” Hawthorne tossed a small stick into the fire; it crackled and a cluster of sparks rolled skyward.

  “Fuck ‘em. Don’t let it get in your head, kid. If the steel starts flying tomorrow, just stay on my back. Sticking close is the best chance you and me have out here.”

  “You scared of the Eval?”

  He shook his head. “Not the word I’d use. I’ve just learned the importance of not underestimating my enemies.”

  “You don’t think we can beat them?” Hawthorne was looking around as if he were weighing the toughness of each man.

  He paused, considering his answer, holding a flaky piece of fish inches from his lips. “Nah,” he swallowed the fish and sucked his fingers clean, “I don’t think we can. I think we can survive, but that’s about the extent of it. Just remember what I told you.”

  “Yeah, I know, stay close.”

  “Stay on my back.”

  Eirik plopped down between them and acted as if he were warming his hands over their fire. “And what are we chatting about over here?”

  “The food. The weather. How good you look in that armor. Did you lose some weight?”

  “I daresay you won’t be quite so droll when you’re staring down the spear of one of those savages tomorrow.”

  “Guess I better get it in while I can, Commander.”

  “Yeah, well,” Eirik leaned over, elbow on one knee, “remember that when you’re looking for my help on the field.”

  “All bullshit aside, let’s talk honestly.”

  “After you, merchant.”

  “You and Osiris are playing a real dangerous game with your men’s lives.”

  “Do tell.” Osiris folded his arms and straightened his legs.

  “You already know how. You’ve got no actionable intelligence. We’re marching in blindly. You’ll have to excuse me, but I have no idea where the hell you’re getting your confidence from.”

  “Look around you. You saw these boys on the docks. You saw the way they cut through the Eval. Those animals ambushed us and we still pushed them back.”

  Eirik seemed to have forgotten that it was Dominic that’d called out the ambush and had given the Anthenians a chance to shore up their defenses.

  “Listen,” Dominic knew he was going to have to humble himself a bit if he was going to get through Eirik’s thick skull, “your boys fought well; they had superior weapons, armor, and training. Hell, you fought well—”

  “Your adulation is like a warm balm, Dominic. My heart has been melted, the burden on my shoulders lifted, let’s all turn around and head home.” Eirik grumbled sarcastically and moved to stand.

  “No, just listen to me for a second.” He grabbed Eirik’s wrist without thinking.

  Eirik looked at Dominic’s hand and then at Dominic, a short fuse burning in his eyes.

  “Sorry,” he unraveled his fingers and slowly reeled his hand in, “but please, just listen. You don’t like me. I don’t much care for you. That probably isn’t gonna change. But if we have to fight together, let’s fight smart. The King wouldn’t listen, but he’s not out here. You are. You’re responsible now. I’m willing to bet the Eval have eyes out there.” Dominic’s finger traced the darkness around them. “Make no mistake, they know we’re coming. If you don’t want to turn back, fine. But lets at least form a scouting party and try to get an idea of what we’re walking into. I’ll even lead them.” For a moment it looked like he’d gotten through.

  Eirik shook his head. “Your objection has been noted. I suggest you and the kid get some sleep; it’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

  ***

  “Shouldn’t we get some sleep? It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.” Byron was sitting on the edge of Mirela’s bed. She was on the other side of the room, standing in a circular, wooden tub of water. She was scrubbing her body with a thin cloth,
starting at her neck and working her way down to her toes; her flow uninterrupted by his words.

  “I don’t sleep much.” She squeezed the cloth out and soaked up more water.

  They hadn’t spoken much since arriving in her room; mostly short sentences followed by single-word replies. She didn’t look to have much to call her own: small bottles of oil sitting on a waist-high table, a handheld grindstone for her blade, the tub, and the bed.

  “You come bathe too. You stink.” She was rubbing the cloth in circles across her stomach.

  He averted his eyes and shook his head. “I’m fine, really.” He still hadn’t gotten used to the nudity.

  “I’m not asking. It’s a command.” Her hands were at her sides, the cloth hanging limply from her grasp.

  He took his time standing; perhaps if he made her wait long enough she’d grow impatient and call off the whole thing. But she remained statuesque, tracking each of his movements with the faintest flicker in her eyes.

  “Take your clothes off. Get in.” She used the cloth to direct him.

  “I’m…what if Draxus…”

  She seemed utterly perplexed by his objection.

  “You’re his. I’m sure he doesn’t want us naked and bathing together…or whatever it is you have in mind.” He moved his hands as if he were putting together the pieces to a puzzle.

  “You think I am trying to fuck you?” It was the closest she had come to smiling in his presence; it wasn’t a kind smile, but it was still a smile. “I would never fuck you, Anthenian!” She looked at him as if he’d suddenly transformed into something foreign and grotesque. “I am Draxus’ Viper! His whore! My body belongs to him! If you try to touch me, I will kill you! Do you understand me, Anthenian?” Her hand had formed a fist that squeezed every last drop of water from the cloth.

  His cheeks grew hot as embarrassment flooded his body. “I…uh, my apologies. I felt uncomfortable, is all. I’m not used to—”

  “I don’t care what you’re used to. Take your clothes off and join me in the tub.”

  He stripped, tripping over his pants and catching himself on the edge of the tub. He covered his crotch as he stepped in beside her.