Drink of Me

by Jacquelyn Frank

  “You sound like Reule,” she said softly.

  “I’ll take it as a compliment that you compare me to my Prime.” Lia stepped back and straightened her posture into a no-nonsense bearing. “Now, let’s get you to a bath. You reek of lust and Lady knows what else.”

  “Lia!”

  “Reule.”

  Reule jerked awake sharply, sitting up and catching the hand on his shoulder by the wrist. There was a moment of disorientation and then he realized the owner of the wrist he was twisting was Darcio. He released him instantly and rubbed at his bleary eyes. “What are you doing here, Shadow?” he asked grumpily. Then he jerked his attention to the bed beside him.

  Empty.

  “She left hours ago,” Darcio informed him dryly. “I wouldn’t invade your privacy or sleep unless it were urgent, you know that.”

  That got Reule’s full attention. “What’s wrong?”

  “A patrol has returned with news of an outlander caravan headed toward the city.”

  “A caravan?” Reule threw his legs over the side of the bed, drawing an agitated hand through his hair. “Darcio, there’s almost three feet of snow on the ground. Who in hell would travel now?”

  “That’s part of the issue. Saber’s men report they’ve never seen the like of them before. The caravan is on runners, with horses to pull. A lot of furs for warmth. Outriders. But no goods that can be seen. Saber doesn’t think they’re out looking for trade. There’s more of a military look to them. But it’s not an army,” Darcio assured quickly at Reule’s sharp look. “Just a contingent of men. It’s damn strange. Like a hunting party.”

  “Well, let’s hope they aren’t hunting Sánge. I’m in too good a mood and I’d like to stay that way.” Reule got up and began to gather clothing, jerking the items on as he frowned and concentrated on Darcio’s report. “Maybe that’s all they are. A hunting party off course after the storm. Perhaps from a tribe deep in the woods we haven’t seen before.”

  “Right now, I’m just happy they aren’t Jakals. I’ve seen enough of those bastards for a lifetime.”

  “Is Chayne with Mystique? Where is she?”

  “She and Liandra are entertaining themselves in the infirmary. They’re mixing a store of rather noxious potions. Liandra doesn’t seem the sort to be a medical whiz, so I’m at a loss as to how Mystique is actually keeping her amused.”

  Reule paused in shrugging on his vest to look at his Shadow speculatively, remembering the innocent words of admiration Liandra had spoken to his mate. “I wouldn’t be so quick to make snap judgments about Liandra,” Reule remarked simply. “I believe there are surprising depths to Amando’s sister.”

  “Liandra,” Darcio grunted, “has far too much fascination for things that are inappropriate for a woman of her station.”

  “You mean she’s willful and independent, rather than a painted doll like so many of the other women we know?”

  “Yes. I mean, no.” Darcio’s features twisted with confusion and he glared at Reule. “What is it you’re implying?” he asked his Packleader with uncertainty.

  “I made no implication. Merely an observation.” Reule dragged on his boots and grabbed a heavy cloak. “You’re the one who cannot decide if it’s better for Liandra to be a woman of spirit or a statuette.”

  “Frankly”—Darcio raised his voice as they moved hurriedly out into the hallway—“I couldn’t care less either way! Why are we even discussing this?”

  “Good question. You’re the one who brought up the issue of Lia’s talents, or lack thereof.”

  “This is a ridiculous topic,” Darcio groused as they paused at his room so he could dress for the outdoors as well.

  “So let’s change it. Did Saber give you any numbers?”

  “Large. No threat to us, of course. But the Sánge outside the walls would never be able to stand. Saber is already doubling the guard and gathering contingents just in case. You know Saber has a ’pathic sense for trouble, and he says he’s not getting any real warnings, but he also feels that could change if the situation isn’t handled delicately.”

  “To hell. I wish…” Reule stopped himself.

  Darcio didn’t. “You wish Amando was here.”

  “He had that way of communicating,” Reule said in needless explanation.

  “I know,” Shadow agreed softly.

  Darcio followed his Prime’s long, purposeful strides in silence until they were almost at the exit to the keep. “Do you think it’s wise for Mystique and Liandra to spend time together?”

  “Shadow, I’ve no intention of choosing my wife’s companions for her. And what the hell is wrong with Liandra?”

  Reule watched Shadow scowl darkly, and he was fascinated by the reaction. The emotions radiating from Darcio were just as intriguing, in spite of his struggle to keep them under wraps. Something about Liandra had gotten under the Prime Shadow’s unflappable skin. They stood in the slush of cleared-away snow in the courtyard, waiting for the stable hands to bring their horses.

  “There’s something about that girl that just…disturbs me,” Darcio said quickly, as though the confession disturbed him more.

  “Is this just a general disturbance or is there something specific? A ’pathic problem perhaps? Or is her behavior inappropriate with you?” Perhaps the young woman had changed her mind and made her feelings known after all. Reule thought it unlikely, but his companion almost seemed to be reacting as if she had.

  “I’m not a girl in need of chaperoning,” Darcio snapped irritably at the suggestion that he couldn’t handle something of that nature on his own.

  “I never said you were,” Reule said, suppressing a grin as Darcio worked himself up.

  “All I know is that I have a feeling this girl is going to wreak havoc in our lives if she starts hanging around here. Mark my warning, Reule. Saber may be the one who can sense danger, but I can sense trouble, and she’s it in spades.”

  Perhaps even more than Darcio realized, Reule thought with amusement. He wondered why this was coming up now. Liandra had always been a fixture at the keep whenever Amando was home from his sojourns, so why did Darcio have a problem with her now? What had changed?

  Amando was dead.

  Just like that, the iron curtain had dropped away. As long as Amando had been Pack, honor made it unthinkable for any Packmate to consider Liandra as anything but the kid sister of a man who was like a brother to them. Now that safeguard no longer existed. Liandra had never been served up to Darcio before as a potential satisfaction for his appetites. Reule suspected she’d inadvertently captured his attention, and his knee-jerk response was this defensiveness. Considering Shadow’s obligations and his views on relationships, nothing would come of the situation. But in the meanwhile, it’d be entertaining to watch Shadow jump through a few mental hoops. His old friend had a sanctimonious pride in his imperturbability, and it would be amusing to see him thrown off balance.

  “I’ll keep your warning in mind,” Reule managed with a straight face as Fit was led toward him, “but until you have a specific example of her discordant influence, Liandra is welcome in my home.”

  Reule ended the discussion by swinging up on Fit and heading toward the deep snow blanketing the city below.

  Liandra drew back from the cold glass of the windowpane and shivered. Mystique was checking on a young man who’d been caught in the storm and was brought in half frozen an hour earlier.

  “They left. I’m telling you, Mystique, something’s wrong. Not even Pack willingly goes riding out in this kind of weather. I can’t read Reule, but Darcio was extremely tense.”

  “Darcio is always tense,” she remarked dryly as she drew up close to Liandra, looking out of the window briefly for herself. She watched the men as they urged the horses through the portcullis. But it was when the portcullis itself was lowered behind them, even though it was the middle of the day, that she bit her lip with a twinge of worry. “What would worry Reule enough that he would order the gate to the keep cl
osed? We’re at the end of a miles-long city.”

  “It’s habit for him to use every precaution,” Liandra reassured her as she laid hands on her shoulders. “Reule remembers too well the dangers we constantly faced when we first established ourselves here.”

  “I suppose.” But Mystique’s belly was suddenly a knot of nerves and fear. Chills raced across the backs of her shoulders until she shivered.

  “Come away. The windows make for pretty views, but they are drafty.”

  Mystique allowed Lia’s hands to guide her until she was turned completely around. She stopped dead still, however, when her eyes met Chayne’s. The tension running the length of the Prima Shadow’s frame was palpable, a sign of the seriousness of the situation. His presence had never been intrusive, and he truly had become like a shadow to her, there but hardly noticed. It didn’t escape Mystique that he now stood closer to her than he ever had before.

  “Chayne?”

  “An unknown group approaches Jeth,” he told her readily. He tilted his head, listening internally to the voice of the Pack. “Reule is just being cautious at the moment. No overt threats have been made. It’s an unidentified caravan, large enough to cause trouble to the outlying farms if that’s what they wish to do.”

  “I see. Thank you, Shadow.”

  Mystique took a breath to calm her edgy nerves. Reule would handle the situation. If it developed into circumstances requiring her skills as healer, she was prepared. For now, she would stay where she was.

  Now all she had to do was try not to worry about Reule.

  Reule stood on the great Jeth wall at the midpoint, watching the caravan approach the gate with steady purpose. It was clear that Jeth had been the travelers’ goal all along, at least as far as destination was concerned. Much to the dismay of his xenophobic guards, Reule had pulled all soldiers back behind the walls. He didn’t want to flex his muscle in front of these strangers if it wasn’t necessary. That was no way to encourage others to change their opinions about the Sánge.

  However, the outer portcullis remained closed tight.

  Friendly, not foolish.

  It was Saber who called down to the leader of the caravan in salute, Reule remaining silent and allowing him to do his job. He stood in stony preparation for any eventuality.

  “Hallo!”

  The cry went out and the caravan of men responded by drawing to a halt. Reule narrowed his eyes on the group as Saber spoke with the lead rider. There were a good eight sleds on runners, three of which were single-man cutters meant for speed and distance. The outriders numbered a good thirty. And they were all men. The lack of females hinted that this was no casual party.

  These people hadn’t been caught unawares in a storm. They were even better prepared for it than his people would have been. Everyone wore thick furs. Lap robes covered the drivers and passengers alike. Even the horses were thickly built, a breed strong enough to draw sleds through miles of deep snow, their coats made of long, heavy hair for warmth.

  Reule kept in careful contact with Saber as he spoke with the lead rider.

  “Greetings and welcome to Jeth,” Saber said evenly from his safe station about five feet above the head of the man on horseback.

  “I greet you as well,” the rider returned. “My party wishes to break our travel in your city.”

  “First we would know who you are and where you’re from, my friend,” Saber said evenly. “We get few visitors in this wild place.”

  “I can imagine,” the rider agreed. “We are Yesu. We come from a province in the deep north.”

  “There’s nothing but savage mountains to the north,” Saber noted.

  “Aye. As I said,” the rider agreed. “The Yesu are a mountain tribe.”

  That actually took Reule by surprise. He’d never heard of a civilization in the mountains behind his city. They were impassable. The fact that these people had approached from the mouth of the valley in spite of coming from the northern range was proof enough of that. They must be from a farther, more accessible point.

  “We didn’t know there were mountain tribes, and we’ve lived in this valley for over sixty years,” Saber informed the stranger readily.

  The leader of the Yesu laughed, the sound echoing merrily against the walls of the valley. “The Yesu rarely leave their mountain home,” he agreed. “But we have heard of your people and this growing city. We’re pleased your tribe has survived in this rough country. It speaks well of your breed.”

  Saber’s response was a knee-jerk reaction. “You do know this is a Sánge city, do you not? Not many people seek out Sánge company so willingly.”

  “The world is too wide and diverse to let customs come between cultures. My people, you will find, are more tolerant than most. We wish you no harm.”

  Reule knew the man was speaking the truth. So did Saber.

  “Might I know whom I address?” Reule called down from the midwall.

  “Lothas, Second Command to our great lord Derrik, High King of all the Yesu tribes in these mountains. And yourself?”

  “Prime Reule, leader of the city and province of Jeth.”

  The man touched his open palm to his heart and made a slow, respectful bow of his head. “Greetings and deepest respects from his greatest majesty, High King Derrik, Prime Reule. I’m bid to earn welcome on behalf of our people.”

  “And welcome you shall be, Second Command Lothas. Is this your only purpose in coming to Jeth? To strike up relations with the Sánge? I have to admit, it’s an unusual occurrence.” Reule searched, but could find no hostility toward the Sánge in this man’s mind. He did discover, however, a group of minds among them that would bear close watching. There was something innately chilling in some of the psyches he touched. But it was a small and select portion of the group. The rest were neutral, intelligent, and as open in mind as they were announcing themselves to be.

  “We don’t blame you for your caution, Prime Reule. We know of your reception among other tribes. We are, as I said, far more tolerant than most. I’m certain there will be things about the Yesu you will find not to your taste, but we hope you will be just as accepting.”

  “You will find us so in spite of our caution, but you didn’t answer my query.”

  Lothas laughed again with his ringing mirth. It actually made a smile play over Reule’s lips. There was an infectious quality to the man. “True enough! No, my lord, the purpose of our travels, unfortunately, isn’t so pleasant as I believe meeting your people will be. We’ve come down from the mountains in search of a foul murderess, and we’ve tracked her to your province. We come to beg your assistance or any information you might have.”

  And in an instant, Reule knew.

  They were looking for Mystique.

  Chapter 15

  The bottom had dropped out of his world and the entire Pack went sharply rigid with the whiplash of his emotional fury. Reule felt Darcio’s hand circling his upper arm, squeezing hard to focus him on the task at hand. His voice was hard as he forced himself to speak.

  “We’ll speak of this in the comfort of my keep. Enter Jeth and be welcome.”

  Reule turned away and moved with speed as he laid commands into the minds of his Pack.

  “Bring Lothas and the higher-ranking leaders to the keep as guests. House the outriders in two separate locations in the city. Opposite ends, preferably. Dividing their ranks will keep them harmless. Offer a guard for Lothas if he wishes it, out of respect. Chayne, take Mystique to my rooms. Keep her there at all cost. If you allow her to gainsay you, I’ll have your head. Is that understood?”

  “It’s quite clear, My Prime,” he agreed firmly.

  “Saber, I want heavy patrols around the city, especially where the armed men are staying. Don’t make it too obvious, but make certain they feel our presence. No one is to show even the remotest hint of hostility, Defender. Make certain that’s clear. Unless the Yesu threaten to harm someone’s life, don’t move against them. Warning, firmness, informing them of our
laws—all of that is acceptable, but not violence or posturing.”

  “Understood, My Prime,” the Prime Defender said grimly.

  Reule jerked on his riding gloves as he approached Fit. Again, Darcio reached out and stayed him with a hand against his arm.

  “Easy, Reule. You could be mistaken.”

  Reule narrowed his hazel eyes on his Shadow with a sharp turn of his head. “Do you think I’m mistaken?”

  Shadow didn’t respond, and that was response enough, he knew. He felt the tension in his Prime, like a whipcord of lightning that burned fierce and fast. And there was fear. An enormous amount of fear unlike anything Darcio had ever known Reule to feel before. He hadn’t even known Reule could be so afraid. Darcio was the weakest empath among them, but even he could feel Reule’s growing storm of pain like a fist closing around his heart.

  “Reule,” he said softly, “you’re the leader of a powerful city that will stand behind you no matter what you decide. Don’t ever forget that. Don’t ever doubt it. This Sánge tribe would sacrifice itself if you commanded it. They know their lives would mean nothing without you, and they’d be willing to prove it with their last breaths.” Darcio reached out to pat Fit’s flank, as though they were speaking of simple things instead of life, death, and fate.

  “Good,” Reule said with bite. He looked hard at his friend. “I love her, Darcio. No man, no army, will ever take her from me.”

  “Well, you might just be realizing that,” Darcio said with a snort, “but your Pack figured it out days ago.”

  With that remark, Shadow turned and threw himself up into his own saddle. Reule looked at him, amusement shattering his fearful tension. He reached for Fit and swung up onto his back. He patted the horse’s withers. “Come, old friend. Let’s go protect our lady.”

  Fit shook his head and whinnied in agreement.

  “Chayne, this is ridiculous! Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?” Mystique demanded explosively as she paced the breadth of Reule’s private sitting room.