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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.
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“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.”
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“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.
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“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
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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
&nbs
p; 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.
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“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.”
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Chapter 8 Part 2
May 14, 2018 by Ilona
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.
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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.”
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“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.
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“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.
145
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.
The identity of the under-marshal was a closely guarded secret. It was
never revealed to outsiders. It could be anyone, Karat, Soren, Ilemina,
her consort. Had Maud been trusted with that knowledge, letting
another House in on it would be treason.
They really thought she was a complete idiot.
“Lord Arland didn’t mentioned anyone,” she said. “But you’re right, this
is worrying. I’ll ask him.”
“You should,” Onda said. “Just for your peace of mind.”
“She’s totally useless,” Seveline murmured in Ancestor Vampiric. “Let
me trip her.”
“No.”
“She would scream all the way down. It would be funny.”
“We might still get something out of her.”
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The path widened and turned, following the mountain. A massive gorge
opened before them, the trees at its bottom so far below, the expanse
of empty air had taken on a slight blue tint. Another mountain cliff
formed the other side of the gorge, a sister to the one they’d climbed. A
mess of narrow stone arches and breezeways bridged the gaps between
the two cliffs, as if some chaotic giant had carelessly tossed a bundle of
stone sticks into the gap. The stone formations crossed over each other,
some spanning the distance, some ending abruptly, crumbling into
nothing, turning the gorge into a maze. They looked completely natural,
as if time and weather had whittled the living rock, but their placement
was too deliberate. No geological phenomenon would produce slender
crisscrossing bridges like these. Someone must’ve made them, how she
had no idea.
On the right, atop one narrow stone protrusion, a vala tree spread its
branches. It was ancient and massive, its thick roots wrapping around
the stone and burrowing deep into the mountain, as if challenging the
gorge. Between the two cliffs the setting sun painted color onto the
evening sky, turning it yellow, rose, lavender and finally, high above, a
beautiful purple. Against this backdrop, the red leaves of the vala all but
glowed.
Innkeeper Chronicles 3.5: Sweep of the Blade Page 12
