Blood Mercy (Blood Grace Book 1)

by Vela Roth

  “But that does not erase the stigma of her origins in the Tenebrans’ eyes,” Kumeta pointed out.

  “One can imagine the prejudice the poor child faces here.” Aunt Lyta shook her head. “Some things have not changed since we were human.”

  Uncle Argyros looked to the Master Envoys. “I can’t say you have ever mentioned her name.”

  “She hardly seems to be a secret,” Lio protested.

  If she felt any regret over her status, she certainly didn’t show it. Lio had seen how proud she was. How could her countrymen fail to respect her for it?

  “I am sorry to say she is often spoken of simply as the king’s bastard,” Kumeta said.

  “Cassia,” Lio corrected. “I can tell you that much about her. Her name is Cassia.”

  “Cassia Basilis, I presume,” Uncle Argyros added. “Befitting a female relative of the king outside the line of succession.”

  “From what I recall,” Kumeta said, “the king constantly sends her from one residence to another and allows few to know her location. I would hazard a guess she is never where our reports say she is, and she is seldom in one place for long.”

  Basir let out the sigh of someone resigned to an old problem. “We are often fed the same ‘common knowledge’ as the free lords Lucis wishes to deceive.”

  “Where does common knowledge say she is right now?” Lio asked.

  Kumeta paused to consider. “A remote household of the king’s in the eastern Tenebrae, I believe.”

  Lio shook his head. “That’s not where she is.”

  Basir’s eyes narrowed. “How can you be certain?”

  “I’m afraid I may have underestimated the Tenebrans’ boldness. The grounds were not entirely deserted last night—no, don’t worry. I had no disastrous encounters.”

  “Of course not,” Uncle Argyros said mildly. “Considering who trained you in concealment.”

  And that training was serving him well even now as he concealed the truth from his fellow Hesperines. His own family. “In my discreet stroll across the grounds, I overheard a few things.” Such as the growling of her hound. And the flutter of her heartbeat. “Namely that the king’s daughter is here at Solorum.”

  Aunt Lyta thumped her hand on the table. “She is here, and yet we saw no sign of her when we arrived. That is an insult.”

  Uncle Argyros rested a hand upon hers. “Children born out of wedlock are not public figures. Lucis is certain to keep her out of sight.”

  “That does not change the fact that she must take part in the Summit,” Aunt Lyta countered. “She carries the king’s blood in her veins.”

  Lio hated where his logic had taken him. “The free lords would be mindful of this as well, wouldn’t they?”

  His uncle gave a nod. “Some would be tempted to overlook her origins, for a daughter of the king is still a daughter of the king. She may attract suitors.”

  “This is most likely why the king sends her away so often,” Kumeta said. “To prevent her from becoming too great an advantage to one of his lords.”

  Lio really was not used to being this thirsty. He felt hot, within and without, and it gave him the urge to deal the table a blow as his aunt had. “That is all she amounts to in their eyes. A means to an end.”

  “Nearly everyone here is someone’s means to an end and uses someone else as their own,” Uncle Argyros said. “Tenebran society is mere hierarchy upon hierarchy, with each person at a greater level of power making what use he or she sees fit of those beneath.”

  “Except for Lucis,” Lio said.

  “He stands at the peak of this hierarchy, yes.”

  “He has misstepped,” Aunt Lyta insisted. “The treaty has always been sworn between the Queens of Orthros and the King of Tenebra’s family. All of his family.”

  “The circumstances of our arrival did not go as the king planned,” Uncle Argyros reminded them. “There could have been many reasons why his daughter was not included in the welcoming ceremonies. He may have brought her to Solorum with the intention of introducing her at some point in the negotiations. Let us wait and see if she makes an appearance.” He fixed one of his unreadable gazes upon Lio. “You could have told me this last night.”

  The heat in Lio’s veins seemed to have reached his neck, even his cheeks. “As I said, other topics occupied us.”

  “Other topics besides information of immediate relevance to the Summit?”

  Hespera help him, he should have said something to his uncle last night, if only to avoid this conversation before the entire embassy. His veil held steady. That did not make their scrutiny any less uncomfortable.

  The best defense was always the truth. “I confess…I feared you would think I was not careful enough last night. To come close enough to mortals to discover such information…I would not wish you to think I showed disregard for the strict rules of conduct to which we must adhere while we are here.”

  Javed chuckled. “Disregard for the rules? You?”

  Kadi laughed outright. “Lio, you probably inscribe a Ritual Circle to the rules in your bedchamber every morning before you Slumber.”

  Lio shot his cousin a sardonic look and placed a hand upon his chest. “Not in my bedchamber. I carve the Ritual Circle on my heart, Cousin.”

  Aunt Lyta appeared to be struggling not to grin. “As long as the Tenebrans who were on the grounds did not accost you, we have nothing to worry about. I take it this was no bull-driving mob.”

  “Not at all. Just a couple of Tenebrans trespassing on the king’s grounds.” One human Tenebran and one canine Tenebran.

  “Poaching is a perennial problem for the nobility,” Basir conceded.

  Some of the bite went out of Kumeta’s aura. “Apparently starvation is more frightening than we are.”

  “And the punishment they would face from their king,” Javed murmured.

  Lio corrected none of their assumptions.

  “They did not see you,” Uncle Argyros said. It was not a question. “It is of no concern. But I hope you will be more forthcoming next time, should you overhear anything else. This information may prove useful to us.”

  Basir studied Lio. “See that you come to Kumeta and me with anything you learn.”

  “I certainly will.”

  Kumeta looked to Aunt Lyta, who nodded.

  “We are out of time,” Lio’s aunt told them.

  “Well.” Uncle Argyros rose from his chair. “Let us begin.”

  Lio took a deep breath as they stood and followed his uncle out. They walked through the fortress for the benefit of the guards, who stood at very visible intervals from the hallway outside their guest quarters all the way to the gatehouse. See, said the embassy’s dignified walk. See how harmless and well-mannered we are?

  Lio watched the portcullis of Solorum Fortress rise to let them out. Was all this show lost on the men who watched? Or were there those among the soldiers who shared Lady Cassia’s balanced view of Hesperines, but feared to let on to their countrymen?

  It seemed the embassy’s so-called honor guard comprised only armed men and not of any workings by the royal mage. Lio had yet to feel a hint of magic at work in the fortress, as Kadi had said. It was from the temple and the palace that the strongest power emanated.

  Lio could feel in the age of those spells that this had once been the capital of not just a king, but a Mage King and a queen wise in her own arcane traditions. The ghosts of magic that haunted Solorum stood testament to the royal couple’s steadfastness against Cordium. It was easy to understand why it had not been until after their reign that the Order of Anthros had succeeded in forbidding monarchs and lords to wield magic.

  But at last the mages had enforced their decree that men must choose to live by the sword or the spell, and any who hungered for the power of both went against the laws of Anthros. If Tenebra’s finest king and queen lived now, the Order would strike them down as heretics.

  The drawbridge unleashed the Hesperines from their prison into a cool, damp
night. Mist crawled along the ground, promising a winter rain to come. Lio breathed deep and let his head clear, here in the Goddess’s hours where she ruled. Tomorrow night would require a pavilion set up, he predicted, but for now, the king and his company occupied the dais and the greensward in the open air. A vast council table had been erected at the foot of the throne. Lio could still smell how recently the wood had been part of living trees.

  The ward the Solorum temple mages had built around the council table shimmered in the air like a wall of heat, visible but much fainter to the senses than Aunt Lyta and Kadi’s working. Five of the men were retreating across the greensward to the temple, their work complete. Through the barrier, Lio could make out the royal mage, who sat in an unassuming position near the back of the dais to the king’s right, with his apprentice hovering at his elbow.

  As the embassy set foot within, Lio struggled not to shudder. He had never before felt the magic of Anthros, certainly not on his very skin. Its acrid taste made him feel ill.

  Lio took a deep breath, hoping for a powerful fragrance to banish the bitter magic. He looked around the entire gathering, even the chairs set out in rows beyond the table for those who were not on the Council.

  Lady Cassia was nowhere to be found.

  King Lucis sat on the Mage King’s chair, towering above all present. Unfortunately for Prince Caelum, his apparent attempt to mimic his father’s dignified expression only served to make him look petulant. Lord Titus commanded one end of the Summit table, while Lord Hadrian sat encamped on the opposite end. The men who held the chairs between comprised nearly the entire Council of Free Lords.

  Lio was looking at the most powerful men in Tenebra, those who held the chains of fealty and power that bound the fractious kingdom together. Only one of them, Lord Hadrian, was considered loyal to the death to King Lucis. Lio counted off the others. Loyal for personal gain, loyal out of fear, on the verge of rebellion.

  Seven empty chairs awaited on the nearest side of the table, facing the king, with a lengthy expanse of empty table on either side to protect the lords from the Hesperine lepers. As the embassy took their places, Amachos watched their every move from his place by the king.

  Lio followed his people through the performance of greetings and contemplated what seat Lady Cassia might occupy in this informative display, were she here. An oppressed subject engaging in secret rebellion. A hopeful contender for a crown seeking weapons against her father. A neglected daughter fishing for information that might buy her father’s approval. She might be any of these things.

  Not for the first time, Lio wondered how anyone but a Hesperine engaged in diplomacy with any confidence. He was sure one more conversation with Cassia Basilis was all he needed. Another chance to truly communicate with her, to sense her, and he would know how dangerous their meeting had been for him and his embassy. Or how promising.

  She had called one of their most sacred practices by its proper name, the Mercy, when the kindest terms humans normally used were desecration of the dead, corpse theft or necrophilia. She knew the Mercy to be none of those things. Where had she learned the truth?

  He must see her again. There was no other way to discover the source of her interest…and to what degree it inclined her toward his people.

  He found it difficult to guess if she would give him the opportunity. Her status and the severity of the transgression made the odds seem slim. But the anticlimax of their discussion made him think she was not done with him yet. Such a question…was that really all? Didn’t she want more answers than the one he had given her?

  He could only hope she would make another appearance on the grounds for a private Summit.

  Negotiations

  Lio breathed the wind that blew from deeper in the woods. He could smell the doe in the spruce thicket, who was sleeping off his draught from her, and the vestiges of magic on one of the ruins up the path. No chance of catching Lady Cassia’s scent if she approached from the palace.

  This time it was sound that revealed her first. He heard the distinctive blood flow not of an animal, but a human, one whose pulse beat quickly from exertion. The beat of a liegehound’s heart was there too, along with the rustles of two feet and four paws moving around a great deal in the underbrush.

  How fortunate that Lio was the one to discover their very obvious presence. Anyone else might end the night with his throat no longer intact. Then again, it might be too much for Lio to assume his throat was safe, either. He could only hope his truce with Lady Cassia still held, and she would once more persuade her hound not to indulge his natural inclination to make a meal out of any Hesperine he saw.

  Lio found them in the clearing by the old stone fountain and paused just within the shelter of the trees, stilling his body and breath. Lady Cassia was engaged in a vigorous wrestling match with her hound. The dog had his teeth around some kind of training lure that appeared to consist of the combined remains of a sheep and an untold number of pheasants, tied together with rags purloined from the corpse of some unfortunate knave.

  As Lio watched, the hound left off the mundane prey and swiveled to face precisely where he stood.

  Lady Cassia did not startle, only grew very still, as if trying to make herself stone. With her hands on her dog, she glanced over her shoulder in Lio’s direction.

  His heart pounding, Lio held fast to his veil, but met the dog’s gaze. A bark erupted from Knight’s barrel chest. Lio realized he had no idea what body language to display to a dog to indicate he was not a threat. He should have let Mak and Lyros talk him into defense training after all. Didn’t they have specific strategies for dealing with liegehounds?

  Lady Cassia put her mouth near the dog’s ear and murmured words in that language only he seemed to understand, which Lio had never encountered in any of his studies. Knight returned his attention to her. It appeared only one thing was stronger than the hound’s blood-deep enmity with Hesperines: his devotion to his lady.

  She leaped to her feet, brandishing the lure again. When Knight lunged, Lio jumped. But it was the lure that was the hound’s target. He won the mess from Lady Cassia’s grasp and vanquished it, shredding fleece and feathers. At last he sprawled with his now thoroughly dead prey trapped between his paws. He panted, casting saliva and tufts of down from his jaws, and looked to his lady for approval. She knelt down beside him and stroked his fur, praising him with more warmth than Lio had yet heard in her voice.

  This time Lio cleared his throat to warn her of his approach. She looked his way again. Her eyes and smile were cool and composed in comparison to the emotion she had just displayed toward Knight.

  Lio strode out to join her, dropping his veil. She stood as he approached. Her skirt was covered in grass stains and dog hair. The natural scents of animal and night air that clung to her made her smell like something that lived wild and thrived here. But her body was poised with wariness, as if she were accustomed to being hunted.

  Lio slanted a gaze at Knight. The hound did not bare his teeth, but lowered his head to gnaw on the lure as if that served as enough of a warning.

  “Now I see the reason for your nighttime expeditions,” Lio said. “Only the woods are a large enough playground for Knight, here. I was not the reason you came out at all.”

  “Do not take it personally.”

  “Too late. I am already gravely wounded. But comforted by your mere presence.” He gave her an overly artful bow. “Which I sorely missed at the negotiations.”

  “If you expected to see me there, then I fear you must have been disappointed indeed.”

  “Certainly I was. Who made the dreadful mistake of not inviting you?”

  “If you think my name alone qualifies me for an invitation, you do not understand what that name means.”

  “No, Lady Cassia, I think I begin to.”

  She reached down and dusted a bit of fleece off her skirts. “You Hesperines know all sorts of things, don’t you? It is said you read minds.”

  “We are p
erceptive. That doesn’t mean we go around harvesting people’s thoughts, any more than we steal their blood. But apparently we are not perceptive enough to know a great deal about you. Not even your name or that you were here at Solorum.”

  If that surprised her, she didn’t show it. She did meet Lio’s gaze again. He hoped that was a sign his confession put her more at ease. By admitting his people were one step behind where she was concerned, he might be able to reduce her sense of threat.

  Her gaze darted about them. “It is said you walk unseen anywhere you please.”

  “No Hesperines walking about unseen tonight,” he assured her. He gestured at himself. “Just your visible champion.”

  She studied him. Lio had been scrutinized a great deal tonight: by a king, dozens of free lords, the entire Hesperine embassy, and especially Uncle Argyros. Lady Cassia’s gaze was the most unsettling and the most pleasant. He felt it from head to toe.

  She tilted her head. “Your companions leave you to dine alone?”

  “No matter, for I have discovered what fine company there is to be had on the grounds. Although I wasn’t sure I would see you here again.”

  “Nor was I.”

  “I see.”

  “Now that we meet again, however, I am reminded of a few more questions I wanted to ask you.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her, smiling. “I thought you could hardly be satisfied with my answer.”

  “Were you with my question?”

  “Of course not.” He smiled still more, careful to keep his lips closed, then not to open them too wide when he spoke. “But I was unsure whether you trusted me enough to ask for more.”

  “Trust is not something I consider relevant to me. However, I don’t believe you’ll cause me harm. It is in both our interests that no one knows we ever spoke.”

  Now he studied her. Her brows were level, her chin set beneath thin lips. Her petite nose had a natural upturn to it. “I do believe you are becoming more and more honest with me, Lady Cassia.”

  “First trust, now honesty. Do Hesperines ascribe great importance to such things?”