by JANRAE FRANK
Margren curled up against Hoon again. The vampire ran his hands over her body, feeling the intense warmth. "Have you fed today, sweet one? Are you full of nice hot blood?"
"Yes," Margren moaned as his hand slipped under her shift to stroke her loins.
Hoon nuzzled her throat. "I know your plans do not match with your mate's."
"They don't. Ummmnnn..." She sighed as his fingers slipped into her. "I want her undead. My toy. Not his. I want to watch her eat her mates and children."
"There is a way. Do you still possess the hilt of your blade?" He eased himself from under Margren, settling her on the couch while he opened his trousers. "When we have sated ourselves, I will charge it for you. Then all you need to do to force her directly from life into undeath is to press it between her breasts. After that, no matter what happens, she is yours."
Margren's face glowed. "But we must not tell him about it."
"Of course not. It is our little secret." Hoon knelt on the couch as she opened her legs to him. You will betray him and I will betray you and Aejys will be mine at last. I will have a powerful, worthy mate. Her faith in the Hellgod will shine as brightly as it once did for Aroana. She will be a true paladin of the night.
* * * *
Margren sat in the middle of Mephistis' bed, the covers gathered loosely about her, staring out the window as the sun rose.
Mephistis crawled across the bed, wrapping around her. "You enjoyed the orgy?"
Margren nodded.
"Then why are you brooding?"
"I keep thinking about my ma'aram. That last moment. She hated me. I always knew she did. I did not want to face it. Not really. I always wanted to believe that she loved me; I believed with half my heart, that she did. Or would. I tried to explain about Aejys. How she forced me to do it. But ma'aram would not listen. She put that blade through my heart. Brij's spirit came to me near the end of the orgy, told me she had slain my ma'aram out of love for me. Brij avenged me and died for it. They took her head and heart so she could not return."
"Brij was a fine sa'necari."
"Yes, she was. I miss her."
"If Brij comes again and you enticed her into a soul gem, we could see to her rebirth. We could borrow one of the full-meals for a year to womb her."
"Then we would raise her? Would she remember us?"
"In time."
"I want that. Can we start soon?" Margren's face brightened, then fell.
Mephistis shook his head at the mercurialness of Margren. "What is it now?"
"Our sons. I want our sons. Aejys can't have them."
"I want them too, beloved. Hoon and I have tried to scry them, but gotten nowhere. She has shielded them from us."
"Then get Juldrid and make her tell."
"I promise, we will get Juldrid. That traitor will tell us everything, lead us to the children. Then mortgiefan, slow and sweet."
"And Aejys. I want to force the hilt from my ruined blade through her flesh and bone, bond it to her heart so that she cannot escape my spells and then turn her."
"Beloved, I must have mortgiefan from her. It is the only thing that will heal me. You know how much the deijanzael hurts me. I must have her death. You simply cannot do this."
Margren nodded, twining around him. "I am sure we can satisfy both of us."
CHAPTER NINETEEN
MARCHING ORDERS
"Put her in my bed," Bryndel said as the two myn-at-arms carried Talons in. They pulled back the quilts and top sheet, laying her down in the middle. She stared up at them with drug-glazed eyes, unable to move and only half-aware of what was happening. They roughly shoved her dress up, getting her undressed as if she were a large doll.
"Don't ... do this," she struggled for each word.
"Don't worry, my dearest." Bryndel kissed her forehead. "This is unfortunate, but you have forced us to it. Tomorrow you will not remember any of it." He nodded at the nearest male who opened his pants and climbed on top of her.
The mon began enthusiastically enough, then his eyes glazed, and he fell away with a small, strangled cry. The second mon rushed over, put two fingers to his companion's neck, and looked up, shaking his head. "He's dead."
"So that much is true. Your turn."
The second mon turned pale. "My lord..."
"You have just helped rape the Grand Master's heir. Now you can die inside her or where you stand."
The mon nodded. He played with himself, trying to get it up and finally managed. His heart hammered and his pulse raced as he pushed into her, trying hard not to think about the fact that he was raping the heir – the heir who had just magically killed a mon. The bi-kyndi did not rise and he did not die. He calmed down and finished with her; but he was shaking hard as he shoved himself off.
"So," Bryndel said, his eyes bright with victory, "my informant was right. The bi-kyndi discharged itself with the first mon in its entirety. The rest of the night is mine." He tossed a pouch of gold to the man. "Get out of here and take the body with you."
Bryndel poured more of the drugged wine into a glass, lifted her head, and forced it down her.
Talons wanted to fight, but could not. I will remember. I will. I will.
* * * *
"I don't think this is such a good idea," Tagalong said, pacing her pony beside the wagon. Tamlestari sat beside the driver. Her stomach hugely swollen with the twins due in less than two months.
Tamlestari glared at Tagalong. "Aejys is alive. I'm not going back and I'm not stopping. Most of these soldiers are mine. You're only nominally in charge. This is my company and nothing is going to hinder me. I am going to be with Aejys. Period. End of story." She slapped the wagon seat for emphasis, just as she had seen Tagalong do with those final words.
Tagalong rolled her eyes and sighed. She hated it when someone handed her back her own sass. "Stupid, puddin' head paladins," she muttered, clicking her tongue at the pony who lurched into a trot. "Get ta Vorgensburg and I'll have two of 'em. Shit!"
The huge van included the surviving members of Aejys' household guard; the Valdren rangers who had come to Shaurone with Tamlestari; a full company comprised of masterless paladins and soldiers who wanted to sign up under Aejys' banner led by the survivors of Ladonys' household; a full company of bradae, the fighting priests of Aroana, who intended to found a temple in the new kingdom of Rowanhart; and more than sixty settlers under the leadership of Aejys' old friend Blackbird, a crippled former knight of Rowanslea.
Birdie had put the word out all over Rowanslea about Aejys' survival, with the High Priest of Aroana, Sonden, supporting her. The two companies and the settlers then marched to Iarwind castle in the Mar'ajanate of Yarrendar where they told Tagalong and Tamlestari what was happening. The one reassuring thing about the companies was that Sonden and his priests had checked everyone out magically: there would be no Waejontori sleepers and shifters traveling to Vorgensburg and then on to Rowanhart. They had learned some hard lessons during the march to Shaurone; in the aftermath of taking Dragonshead; and in the aborted coup led by Margren and the sa'necari. Aejys' greatest strength had always been that she was a great leader and general, not that she was a great warrior – she was only average – and she often told people: "I'm just a soldier."
Tagalong and Aejys had spoken for years about the possibility of Rowanhart; the stout dwarf wondered what had prompted her to finally do it. They had listened in to several of Aejys' council meetings while they pulled things together for the march, but had not been able to actually see or hear Aejys – except for the first time when they saw her and Skree shattered the scrying bowl. There was always a blurred spot where Aejys sat and spoke – Laurelyanne said that she was shielded. Probably by Josh, now calling himself Josiah, and that new triton mage, Skree. Aejys always attracted the unlikeliest folk. It was one of her virtues. It was what attracted Tagalong to her when they were still children. As Tagalong's pony came alongside Laurelyanne at the head of the van, she was still muttering, "stubbornest, stupidest, damn puddin' head paladins."
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"She gave it to you again?" Laurelyanne observed dryly.
Tagalong shot her a sharp, sidewise glance with her eyebrows drawn down. "Yeah."
"The prince is quite a firebrand," she said, with cool detachment, and a small shrug. "I tried to talk her out of this. The babes will probably be born in Vallimrah. That means Magdarien will have to acknowledge them whether she likes the fact that Aejys is the bloodmother or not."
"Huh! Just keep Magdarien away from me and I'll be happy. Annoys tha hell outta me she don't think Aejys is good enough fer Tamlestari."
"She wanted a sylvan noble or a fireborn for Tamlestari. That is tradition among the Valdren royalty. They don't marry outside their own kind."
"Tough titty! Tamlestari is more Sharani than Valdren."
"A matter of rearing."
"She could just repudiate tha whole lot of ya."
"No. She could not. Tamlestari is the last of the Havenrains. Unless she produces litters and sends half to Vallimrah in her place, she will still be heir."
"Magdarien would have to drag her kickin' an' screamin' all the way if she wants ta break'em up."
"If she was desperate enough..."
"An' Aejys'd kick her butt. Matter of fact, so would Tamlestari."
Laurelyanne smiled. "Vallimran politics have become interesting again."
Jaqui of Treth trotted down the road toward them.
"What's up, Jaqui?" Tagalong called.
"We've found a fine place to camp. A sheltered meadow. And its no man's land. Gods, I'll be glad to be out of Beltria."
Tagalong nodded. "Me too. Damned one-god fanatics."
The only crossable ford that early in the spring led through the northern edge of Beltria. The one thing that the company had in its favor was that they were too large a group to be casually contested and by the time an army could be gathered to attack, they would be out of there. Although the realms were growing on the Merezian continent, it was still ruled on a strictly what you could realistically defend basis. There were vast areas that cartographers labeled simply "here there be monsters." Eventually they would be rubbing elbows, but not yet.
"How far?"
"An hour's ride. No more."
"Fall back ta tha remounts, then join us up here."
"I hear it," Jaqui grinned.
* * * *
Aejys went early to the meeting room, just for a chance to be alone and think about what Dree and Josiah had told her. For the first time in years she could stop asking herself whether it was something she did nor did not do that had turned her little sister against her: Outside forces had done that. She remembered the snow castle and, as she thought about it, realized it had been around that time that Margren started acting strangely toward her. Now she found herself regretting that long ago decision to leave the pouting child behind. She should have gone back for Margren. Maybe she could have prevented that first meeting between Margren and Mephistis. She knew, in her mind, if not her heart, that the feelings were irrelevant, that it was far too late to take back that one act, and that regret and guilt achieved nothing. Yet she could not stop herself from feeling it. She had made so many mistakes in her life and it was so very hard not to brood about them. So hard to stop beating herself with the stick of memory.
"Aejys?" Josiah took his seat beside her. "It isn't your fault. You did not make it happen."
"Reading my mind?"
"No. Just knowing how your head works."
"I may not have made it happen, but I certainly did not prevent it."
"You were only ten years old. There was nothing you could have done."
"Josiah, four people I loved dearly died because I made the wrong choices."
Josiah started to say something else, caught sight of Skree coming through the door, and fell silent.
Skree took his place, leaning forward on his elbows. "The oracle's words to Dree are troubling."
Aejys nodded. "There is a slice of Waejontor we could not take, so we bypassed it. The Valley of Baron Hoon." She glanced at Josiah who unrolled the map he had carried in. "There. That's the valley. It abuts Norendel, that's Carliff's kingdom. There are only two passes into Norendel, one leading into it from Hoon's Valley and the one out of Vallimrah. The pass linking Vallimrah and Norendel is right up against the fireborns' breeding grounds."
"Hoon is not going to let us just dance in there and take that sword," Josiah said.
"I know that," Aejys said. "I also need to know where Margren and Mephistis are before I make any decisions. Skree?"
The triton took a crystal on a silver chain from his pocket. He dangled it over the map, stilling its movement with a finger. "Where is Mephistis?" The crystal swung back and forth for a moment like a pendulum, and then began a circling movement that shrank to a tiny round above Hoon's valley.
Aejys felt her stomach tighten.
Skree stilled the crystal. "Where is Margren?" The crystal began to move, finally hovering again above Hoon's valley.
"We get in there and we get out," Aejys said, gravely. "If we move quickly enough they will never know we were there."
"What will you do about Margren?" Skree asked.
"I will have to find an army, then dig them out." Maybe this time I'm making the right decisions. "Fetch the others, Josiah, we're ready for the rest of it."
When Becca, Taun, Omer, and Raim joined them, Aejys explained what she wanted from each of them. Skree and Raim would go to Rowanhart to oversee the building there. The others would remain in Vorgensburg, taking care of business. This year the trading caravans would not go out: Everyone would be needed at home. Omer was in command of the military defense of Vorgensburg, the entire city guards were under his leadership. They would decide what modifications needed to be made to the walls and towers and make them. For the time being Omer was also the armsmaster to the guards as well as their commander. Those who wished to swear fealty and take service with either Vorgensburg or Rowanhart would be funneled first to Skree to have their loyalties and other matters Read, and then sent on to Becca if they passed inspection.
Taun had examined so many children and youths as possible apprentices that he had started finding many odd and interesting talents, most of which he could not use in his own apprentices, who had to all have the gift of Reading, so he planned to send these to Skree. Skree would help them find a place in the new kingdom. To Skree's delight, three of the children had the mage gift and one of them, an eight year old girl, Taun suspected might even be a lifemage when she grew into her powers.
* * * *
Talons woke in a strange bed with her head aching. There was something she was supposed to remember, but it eluded her. Had she been drinking? She drank liquor and wine in moderation: her last memory was of a toast at the party in Lord Wrathscar's suites. Her awareness felt thick and muzzy, but her stomach was settled just fine – that did not sound like a hangover. She was naked. She turned on her side and found that she was not alone in the bed.
"What is it, my love?" Bryndel asked, wrapping his arms around her.
"What the hell am I doing here?"
"Don't you remember? We came here after the party. I grant you were a little tipsy, but surely you remember what a wonderful time we had. We made love all night. You told me you loved me." He sounded hurt, like a very vulnerable little boy.
"I don't. I hate you." Her hand dropped to her loins and found a thick, gooey wetness. Her hand came up to her nose and her heart fell. Her loins were thick with half-dried semen. Bryndel was not lying. They must have been doing it all night. "No. This can't be. I don't want you."
"Please, Talons, don't ruin what we meant to each other last night. I love you."
She jumped out of bed, hurried into her clothes, and fled.
Bryndel let her go, settling back into the sheets. A few more times like this and she should start to wonder what she really felt. Especially since Galee had gotten into her mind long enough yesterday to waltz her around telling everyone she loved him. Then it w
ould be time for a servant to catch them in bed together. The Grand Master would be forced to order the wedding post haste.
* * * *
When Talons reached her rooms, she locked herself in. She ripped the dress off, grabbed a dagger from her bandoleer on the wall, and began slashing it. Strips of cloth flew all around her.
"Dynarien! Dynarien!" She screamed, throwing every ounce of anger and desperation into the call, knowing emotion would amplify it. She had passed several people along the way who told her how glad they had been when she told them it was a love match – yet she could not remember saying any such thing. Worse, there had been enough of them – people she had known for years and trusted – to suggest to her they could not all be lying. Drunk or not, how could I have done such a thing? How? I feel dirty.
The scent of roses filled the room.
"What is it?" Dynarien asked, then stared hard at her nakedness, his eyes like saucers and his eyebrows arched nearly to his hairline. His manhood reacted, but he forced it down. The look on her face tore at his heart. He had never seen Talons looking less like herself and more like a trapped animal.
"Tell me I'm not pregnant. Please." She sounded desperate.
Dynarien settled next to her, took her wrist, and Read her. "You're not." He put his hand to his face, forefinger steepled at his temple and his little finger in his teeth. He wanted to hold her, but kept to his promise of no touching. "You want to tell me what happened?"
Talons folded herself into his arms and poured out her misery of the last few weeks. He listened. He had wanted for months to hold her like this, but not under these circumstances. He pressed his head against hers, his long red-blond hair falling around her like a veil. When she finished, he summoned a basin, pitcher of water and towels from his home.
"Clean yourself up and get dressed." He felt angry, but kept his head. There were rules they both were bound by and they had to work within them. "Get all your weapons and gear together. I'll jump you just outside the doors to the High Temple. Have the Patriarch put you some place safe. Have him send word that you've gone into retreat to pray. No one can argue with that. And Talons, I found fading traces of some kind of drug in your system. By the time anyone else can Read you, those traces will be gone."
