Now the senator resorted to open harassment and had been getting more and more bold, trying to provoke her. The moment Elara used her magic, he would run back to the churches with horror stories, and then public opinion would turn against them.
She’d just come out of the side tower when he showed up. Normally she would’ve come down the ten stone steps to greet a visitor, but right now she was a good eight feet higher than he was and that was how she liked it.
“Good afternoon, Senator,” Elara said.
He saw her and turned toward her, plastering his fake smile on his lips. From her vantage point, she could see the entire yard. As he walked toward her, Hugh’s people fanned out around him. Stoyan, Hugh’s second-in-command, casually wandered on a course that would put him in Skolnik’s way just as he reached the stairs.
Everyone in the yard stopped what they were doing and came closer, instinctively uniting against the common enemy.
Stoyan got to the stairs first and stopped two feet away, a pleasant smile on his boyish face. Skolnik eyed him and halted.
“Good afternoon,” Skolnik said.
“What can I do for you, Senator?”
“I heard you got married. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
Skolnik glanced around. “So, is your husband around? I’d like to meet the man.”
“He’s out,” Elara said. “Can I help you with anything?”
“You can reconsider my proposal.” Skolnik raised his chin.
“Thank you, Senator, but the castle isn’t for sale.”
“I guess I’ll have to talk to your man about that then. I’m sure he will see reason.”
Yeah, let me tell you about his moat… “As I said, he’s out.”
Skolnik looked around, raising his voice in a practiced pitch as if giving a speech before an adoring crowd. “You do realize that if the castle is sold, all of you stand to make a great deal of money.”
This was the same speech he gave the last time he came here. Alarm pinched her. He was up to something.
“Enough to make sure you are all set for life.”
Yes, the exact same speech.
“You can set up a settlement anywhere…”
“The castle isn’t for sale,” Elara said, sinking ice into her words.
“If your leaders are too short-sighted to understand, you have to use your head and think for yourself.”
The alarm blossomed into full-blown dread. Something bad was about to happen. Elara took a step down the stairs. She needed to get him out of the castle now.
D’Ambray rode through the gates on his enormous horse, a spot of darkness in his black uniform. One of the Dogs ran up to him and said something quietly.
D’Ambray turned Bucky toward her and grinned, a huge infectious smile. She almost smiled back, raising her hand to wave.
What the hell am I doing?
Elara snatched her hand back. How did he do that? How was it that this vicious sonovabitch of a man could smile like that and look as if he were the world’s best hope? Hugh grinned and everyone around him wanted to be the one to make him happy.
D’Ambray took a lungful of air and roared. “Honey, I’m home!”
Skolnik turned to look. The stallion bore down at him and the senator took an involuntary step back. D’Ambray dismounted, ran up the steps, and pulled her to him, clamping her against his hard chest. “Give us a kiss.”
She would murder him. He showed no signs of letting her go, so Elara brushed his lips with hers as quickly as she could.
D’Ambray was gazing at her adoringly. “Did you miss me?”
“Counted the moments since you were gone.” In joy. She counted them in joy, hoping they would last forever.
D’Ambray finally released her and turned to Skolnik. “Who’s our guest?”
“State Senator Victor Skolnik,” Elara said.
D’Ambray smiled at Skolnik. His face practically radiated a good-natured “aw shucks” attitude. He looked impressed. “State Senator? Well. How about that? We’re moving up in the world. Honey, couldn’t you have brought Senator a glass of tea or something?”
What?
Skolnik’s eyes lit up. “I do apologize for imposing on your hospitality.”
“Don’t mention it.” D’Ambray walked down the steps. Elara followed him, trying to keep her rage from her face.
“State Senator,” Hugh said, clearly impressed. “How many of you guys are in the Senate, what like a hundred from the whole state?”
Skolnik visibly relaxed, the tension seeping from him with every word. “Thirty-eight.”
“Wow. Thirty-eight. Say, have you ever met Governor Willis?”
“As a matter of fact, I have.” Skolnik nodded. “We had dinner together during the last session.”
“Well, how about that, dear?” D’Ambray turned to her.
“Amazing,” she said.
“Say, I heard he has a honey of a wife,” d’Ambray remarked.
Skolnik grinned at him and leaned closer. “It wouldn’t be proper of me to comment, but yeah, she’s a good-looking woman, if you know what I mean.”
Hugh laughed and Skolnik smiled.
D’Ambray was pretending to be an idiot and was making her look like an idiot too, in the process. Elara strained to keep from grinding her teeth. Her magic coiled and uncoiled within her, an icy restless fire.
Stoyan had drifted away from them, moving all the way to the opposite castle wall.
“So, what brings you to our neck of the woods?” d’Ambray asked.
“Business.”
“A man after my own heart.” D’Ambray clamped his hand on Skolnik’s shoulder. “There are only two important conversations in this world. The first is the kind that gets you money and the second we won’t mention in mixed company.”
A big horse grin again. She had an irrational urge to punch him.
“So, what sort of business are we talking about?”
Skolnik opened his mouth.
“On second thought,” d’Ambray held up his hand. “I hate to be rude, but there is one small matter I have to take care of before we start, if you don’t mind. I’d like to give you my full attention.”
“Of course, of course.” Skolnik gave him a magnanimous wave.
“Excellent.” D’Ambray glanced at Stoyan. The Iron Dog raised his hand and made a come-here motion.
Four Iron Dogs came around the keep, dragging two men between them.
Skolnik froze for a moment. His expression shifted back to affable again, but she saw it, and the brief taste of his alarm was delicious.
The Dogs dragged the two men forward. The left one was taller, with a shaved head and hard eyes, his face pissed off. The one on the right, wiry and blond, wore a blasé expression as if this was just another day and he wasn’t being half-carried by two hard cases.
Professionals, she realized. Mercenaries of some sort or private security.
“Caught these two trying to climb over the wall.” Stoyan closed in and handed d’Ambray something.
D’Ambray held it up to the sun. A long, thin glass tube sealed with plastic with three pieces of cloth inside dipped in sand-like powder.
D’Ambray squinted at the tube. “Nasty bugger.” He held the tube out to her.
She took it and concentrated. Traces of her magic wrapped around the tube. The powder on the cloth shifted in response, crawling across the fabric to pool against the glass. Whatever was inside was alive and hungry.
Her magic touched it.
A living disease, boosted by magic, a disease that would spread like fire and kill within hours. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck rose. She spat the word out. “Cholera.”
“Mhm,” d’Ambray said. “Our new friends planned to drop a present into our well. What would you say, honey, six hours and everyone in the castle would be dead and the disease vector would jump to the settlement, then to the lake? Or do you think it would be more like eight?”
She was
too focused to answer, wrapping her magic around the vial, containing it.
The two mercenaries stared at him, the first still angry, the second still bored.
She finished the cocoon of magic and called, “Emily! Get Malcom and Gloria!”
Emily took off at a run.
Elara held the vial gently. They would have to dispose of this thing properly, with a lot of acid and fire.
Her gaze fell on Skolnik. It had to be him. He knew that once he walked in, everyone in the castle would gather around him, because he was a threat. While they were watching him, the two mercenaries would scale the wall and infect the well.
The fingers of her free hand curled like claws.
D’Ambray faced the two men, still smiling.
“Just get on with it,” the shorter of the men said.
“Good attitude.” D’Ambray pulled a knife out. It was a wicked blade, razor-sharp and thirteen inches long, with a tapered, slightly curved tip. The metal caught the sun and shone in Hugh’s hand. “Let him go and give the man a knife, for goodness sake.”
The two Dogs released the mercenary and took a big step back in unison. One of them pulled a black, foot-long blade and threw it. The knife bit into the ground by the mercenary’s feet. He grabbed it and grinned, dropping into a fighting stance.
D’Ambray stood motionless, seeming to ponder the shorter man.
Elara clenched her fist. D’Ambray was strong, but he was also large, and in a knife fight strength didn’t count and size was a detriment. Knife fighters were quick and small, and the mercenary looked like he’d been born with a blade in his hand. If d’Ambray lost…
If he lost, she would take matters into her own hands, Skolnik or no.
D’Ambray glided forward with predatory grace. His knife flashed, almost too fast to see. The front of the man’s dark shirt turned darker. He blinked. The gap widened, and she glimpsed the rosy clumps of intestines through the cut. It was so shocking, it didn’t seem real.
D’Ambray slashed again. The mercenary tried to counter, but the knife slid past his defenses, and he howled. Blood poured from where his left ear used to be. D’Ambray paused, frowning, like a painter examining a canvas, holding the knife like a brush. The mercenary charged. D’Ambray sidestepped and sliced off the man’s other ear. The mercenary spun away and somehow d’Ambray was there. A man of that size shouldn’t have moved that fast, but he did. The knife flashed again, slicing a gash across the man’s cheeks, widening his mouth.
“What the fuck?” the other mercenary cried out.
D’Ambray stepped forward, his movements beautifully liquid. His left hand caught the mercenary’s wrist. D’Ambray yanked the man’s arm straight, and stabbed into the inside of the elbow, twisting the blade. The man’s arm came off in d’Ambray’s hand. Blood poured.
He deboned him like a chicken. This isn’t happening, this can’t possibly be real, it’s too horrible to be real…
D’Ambray tossed the forearm aside.
The mercenary fell to his knees, his eyes wide, and toppled over. His intestines fell out in a clump.
The world had turned into a nightmare and she skidded through it, stunned and petrified.
“Look at that,” d’Ambray said. His voice froze the blood in her veins. “He’s going into shock. This won’t do. Not at all.”
D’Ambray held his hand out. A current of pale blue magic poured out of him, bathing the man.
The mercenary coughed.
“That’s right,” d’Ambray said. “Come on back. We’re not done yet.”
The blood over the stump clotted, sealing it. The mercenary tried to rise.
“Come on. Almost there. Let’s get your guts back in.”
The intestines slid back into the man’s stomach. He stood up, shuddering and gripping his knife with his remaining hand.
“Very nice,” d’Ambray said.
The current died.
The mercenary charged, trying to take a swipe at d’Ambray. He sidestepped and slashed across the man’s back, stopping just short of the spine. The mercenary turned, ripping his stomach wound open. The innards slipped out again. They were hanging from him like some sort of grotesque garlands. The air reeked of blood and acid.
Elara finally saw the crowd around them, dead silent, her people horrified, the Iron Dogs impassive. Skolnik stared, his face completely bloodless. The other mercenary shook like a leaf, clamped tight by d’Ambray’s people.
“Let’s do the nose next,” d’Ambray said.
“Hugh,” she called.
He halted. “Yes, darling?”
“Please stop.”
Hugh glanced at the disfigured stump that used to be a man. “My wife wants me to stop. We’ll have to cut this short.”
The mercenary stumbled toward him. Hugh stepped forward, clasping the man as if in an embrace, and slid the knife between the mercenary’s ribs in a smooth precise thrust. The mercenary shuddered, held upright by Hugh’s strength. His eyes dulled.
Hugh stepped back, freeing his knife, wiped it on the man’s shirt, and let the corpse fall.
Someone in the crowd retched. Nobody moved.
Hugh turned to the other mercenary. The man went limp. A wet stain spread on the front of his pants.
“Bring me a pair of handcuffs and a big plastic bag,” Hugh said.
A Dog ran off.
“Hugh,” she asked again, hating the begging note in her voice.
“My wife is softhearted,” Hugh said. “That’s why I love her. You came here to murder my beautiful kind wife and our people. Families. Children.”
The mercenary made a small strangled noise.
The Dog returned with handcuffs and a plastic bag.
“Let him go,” Hugh ordered.
The Dogs released the mercenary. He fell to his knees. Hugh dropped the bag in front of him. “Pick up your friend.”
The man gulped, grabbed pieces of bloody flesh and dropped them into the bag one by one.
“Don’t forget the ear over there.”
The mercenary crawled on his hands and feet.
Hugh caught her gaze and winked at her. She couldn’t even move.
The man picked up the bag and straightened. Only the body remained. “He won’t fit,” he mumbled with shaking lips.
“That’s okay. What you’ve gathered is good enough. Cuff him.”
Two Dogs grabbed the mercenary’s arms, forcing his wrists together. A third slapped the cuffs on. Hugh took the bag from the mercenary’s hand and hung it around the man’s neck.
Hugh took a few steps, circling the mercenary slowly. The man turned in response. Skolnik was directly behind him now. Hugh faced the mercenary, looking past him at the senator.
“You’re going to go back to the man who hired you. You’re going to give him this bag. You will tell him that if I see him or any of his people around here again, I will ride into his town. I will kill every man who gets in my way. We’ll kill his wife, his two beautiful children, his pets, and we’ll set his house on fire. We’ll hang him from the nearest tree by his arms and then we’ll leave. He’ll hang there staring at the ashes of his house and begging for help, and the people of his town will pass by him as if he were invisible because they’ll know that if anyone helps him, we’ll return. Did you get all that?”
The mercenary nodded.
“Good man. Off with you.”
The mercenary didn’t move.
“Go on.” Hugh waved him on. “You’re losing daylight.”
The mercenary spun and ran for the gates.
“Bury the garbage off somewhere,” Hugh said, nodding at the corpse. “And clean the lawn. Fire, salt, the usual.” He turned to Skolnik. “Senator? You had a bit of business?”
Skolnik opened his mouth. “Go.”
“Sorry?” Hugh tilted his head.
“I have to go. Now.” Skolnik started through the crowd. People parted to let him pass. He strode to the gates at a near run.
Hugh watched him until he
disappeared. His face turned hard. “I don’t believe Senator Skolnik will be visiting us in the future. Alright, show’s over. We’ve got a truck full of metal to unload. Let’s go, people. Every hour we don’t work is another hour without a moat.”
Hugh liked high places, but the price of height was measured in stairs, and today of all days he didn’t feel like climbing them. There was no help for it, so he did. By the time all of the metal was unloaded and appraised by the smiths, fatigue had settled into his bones. He needed a shower and quiet.
At least most of the haul had been good. The smiths took everything except for the karaoke machine, which he had the Iron Dogs stash in the barracks. When tech hit, they would find out if it worked.
Hugh conquered the long hallway to his bedroom, pushed the door open, and walked in. He never locked it. There wasn’t anything of value in the room. The most expensive item he owned was his sword, and he usually carried it on him.
How the mighty had fallen.
He needed to wash the forest and blood off. He pulled off his boots and tossed them in the corner. His socks followed. The floor felt nice and cool under his feet. Better already.
His jacket followed, then his T-shirt, and his belt. He was about to take off his pants, when the door behind him swung open. He didn’t need to turn to look. He recognized the sound of the footsteps. High heels were rare among Elara’s crowd.
“Not tonight,” he said.
Vanessa slunk into the room. The spectacle in the bailey must’ve proved too much for her. She was hot and bothered. He wasn’t.
“I said, not tonight.”
Vanessa leaned against the wall. She wore a skintight white dress and red shoes. She licked her lips.
“We haven’t done it since you got married. Did you give Elara your balls at the wedding?”
He caught the slight tremor in her voice, fear and excitement wrapped in lust. Trying to goad him. He knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted him to grab her by the hair, slam her against the wall, and fuck her. She wanted proof that the man down in the bailey and the man in the bedroom were the same. He was too damn tired, and he had no interest in it.
Iron and Magic Page 10
