By Blood Betrayed (The Kingsblood Chronicles)

by Houpt, David

No, but Saul is and has been Teg’s friend. After tonight, he’s proven himself to me. No one forced him to aid us, and he could easily have stood aside.

  Gem sighed to Lian mentally, then spoke aloud, “He wants to know if Snarl will be afraid of him if you complete the change.”

  Saul smiled and looked down at Teg. “No, Teg. He’ll know who you are, but you won’t probably be able to talk to him in the way you used to. My kind speaks to animals, too, but it’s a little different.”

  Tell him that it’s okay, then, Teg said, his mind quickly slipping away even with Lian’s efforts to hold on.

  Lian said, strain evident in his voice, “He says to do it, but you’d better hurry. He’s fading fast.”

  Snog had drawn back to watch the scene with interest. He continued to keep a wary eye on the remains of the necromancer, however.

  Saul opened his mouth, and Lian saw his fangs extend. Blood-drinker indeed, Lian thought. He must have been one of the King’s Companions. It made sense, for more of the Companions had escaped than had been captured or killed.

  The ranger bent to the ogre’s neck as tenderly as if to a lover, drinking of his blood. He continued to drink deeply until the ogre’s agonized breathing and erratic heartbeat stopped. With glittering red tears in his eyes, Saul opened his wrist nearly to the bone. Thick, dark blood welled up instantly. He pressed it to Teg’s lifeless lips, and Lian and Snog started when Teg’s friendly but lifeless features suddenly contorted in pure bloodlust.

  The deafening sound produced by the beating of great wings signaled the return of the gryphon, who landed nearby and calmly began to smooth its feathers in a rather feline manner. “Who isss the vampire?” it asked aloud. Lian supposed that in Gilaeshar’s tenure in the Tower, it had seen far more unusual creatures than a mere vampire.

  “A friend,” Lian replied, adding a private aside to Gem, I hope.

  The ogre’s immense arms enfolded the ranger’s form, and he drank deeply and greedily of the proffered blood. On and on, the ranger’s blood continued to flow past Teg’s hungry lips.

  A powerful vampire indeed, to have so much within him, Gem commented. Most of his kind would have been slain by so great a demand.

  For nearly five minutes, Teg drank. Toward the end, great fangs grew, extending into the flesh of Saul’s arm. Saul watched impassively, observing as if he weren’t even involved.

  Finally, at some crucial point, he placed his leg on Teg’s chest and pushed. Despite Teg’s monstrously strong hold and the fangs imbedded in Saul’s arm, the ranger shot backward out of the ogre’s grip. He tumbled over, and leapt to his feet instantly. He ran back toward the newly formed ogrish vampire, who was scrambling to his feet with a madness born of hunger in his eyes.

  “Teg!” Saul shouted, while the hanging ribbons of flesh on his arm slid back into position. “Stop it!”

  Time seemed to stop during the terrible moment when Lian wasn’t sure whether Teg would listen, and then finally the mad gleam faded from his eyes. “Did Teg hurt you?” he asked Saul with concern.

  “No, beloved,” Saul replied, a surprising gentleness in his voice. “All was as it should be.” He approached the ogre and took his hand, saying, “We have much to talk about, Teg, and you have much to learn. Wait for me at the gate, all right?”

  Teg nodded obediently and headed away from the battlefield, looking sadly toward Snarl for a moment. The grizzly had finished shredding ghouls, and was now bounding joyfully toward Ysras where the druid stood watchfully at the edge of the woods. One of Snarl’s ears flapped loosely where a ghoul had gotten a good hold on it, but otherwise he seemed unhurt. The druid bear began licking the wound, crooning a healing melody.

  The ranger turned toward the human and the goblin. “He would have died without your intervention,” he said, “for I would not have changed him without his clear permission. It seems I owe you his life more than once, doesn’t it, Your Highness?”

  Lian was startled, and realized that he was too late to suppress the motion. “You know who I am?”

  The vampire smiled, a gesture that revealed only flat, human-seeming teeth. “You have your mother’s face, and a talking sword. You can only be Lian, the youngest. Am I mistaken?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “The Lushran eclipse of Aliera is the most frequent eclipse we experience, but you should not therefore assume that such occurances possess less magical consequence than any other celestial event. A full Lushran eclipse of the Moon of Song can cause tremendous magical repercussions. I was witness to the last one, and I tell you that every scrap of magical power I possessed failed me, from the very beginning of occlusion to the very end. It was quite sobering, as you can well imagine.”

  -- Lecture to the Dunshor Academy of Magic by Andred, High Lord Wizard

  Lian asked Gem, How in hell am I supposed to remain incognito? Everyone and his dog seems to find out who I am.

  Gem said, Don’t worry about it, son. He must have seen Adrienne during the sack of Greythorn, and we did reveal my nature to him after all. We’ll just have to hope he’ll keep our secrets for us.

  Lian sighed and said, “You’re not mistaken, sir. I’m Prince Lian.”

  Saul bowed to Lian from the waist, with no mockery evident in his body language. “Your Highness,” he said respectfully.

  “I am sure that we both have many questions, but we need to tie up some loose ends here before we move onto them. I need to make sure the blackrobe doesn’t rise again, and then I need to begin Teg’s education before he gets himself into trouble.

  “Then, I’ll need to see about that skull—” he began, but Lian interrupted him.

  “The skull is my concern, Saul,” he said hastily, adding, “Forgive me, but it is.” Lian didn’t want to anger the vampire at a time when he would undoubtedly be at his hungriest. Powerful or not, he’d surrendered a great deal of himself to reanimate the ogre.

  Saul raised his eyebrows and then nodded. “All right. I confess that I am relieved to hear you say that. A talisman of such power could have presented a problem for me, if it wasn’t amenable to imprisonment or destruction. It’ll be another thing we may discuss if you like. If it is a private matter, you have earned my trust, and I am willing to let it go at that.

  “You appear to be well protected with Snog and the gryphon as company, not to mention your blade,” Saul said, collecting his weapons. “Please, make use of the bakery. It has the best roof in Greythorn City.

  “Feel free, as well, to wander the city and the castle, but beware the floors in the keep. The invaders used fire spells, and many of the supports are nothing more than charcoal awaiting a misstep,” the vampire said as he approached the necromancer’s body.

  The wolves had completed their slaughter of the ghouls, and were watching the weres finish the wounded goblins who had been felled by Teg’s rock. Saul waited for them to finish the grisly and merciless work, then gestured to the lycanthropes. When he did so, the wolves dispersed and the two remaining weres came to him. They stood guard over the ranger as he bent to study the remains.

  “Nay a bad sort fer a vamp, if ye wan’ my opinion, milord,” commented Snog as he rejoined his employer.

  “I’ve seen worse,” Lian agreed. He had seen worse, during a zombie-suppression that turned into something far nastier.

  Snog retrieved his pipe from his pack and started to fill it. “Good thing your winged friend happened along, milord. I was gettin’ worried there for a bit.”

  The gryphon clucked and said, “The archersss were easssy. The foot ssoldierss were too far back to help them, and too cowardly to try anyhow.”

  “Gilaeshar, this is Snog,” Lian said, presenting the goblin scout. “He and I have an understanding, at least for a month’s time.”

  The gryphon’s eyes narrowed as it nodded. “I will be ssure to keep that in mind in a month,” it said, kneeling deeply, then leaping for the sky. As before, powerful wing beats carried it skyward with no apparent effort.

  Sn
og swallowed hard. He had noted the not-so-subtle threat, and the sheer power of the otherworldly creature was staggering.

  “Don’t worry, Snog,” Lian said. “I doubt he’ll stay with us for long anyhow. We’re likely quits after his help in the battle.”

  The goblin managed to regain his composure while lighting his pipe. “Mighty odd friends ye’ve collected, milord. Guess it don’t be so strange that ye’d hire me, after all.”

  You’re only just skimming the surface, Lian thought as they continued toward the treeline. They had headed to the spot where the skull had fallen, and now they could see it, lying on its side on the ground.

  “There it is,” Lian said, approaching it confidently.

  Gem said worriedly, I hope you’re not planning to pick him up. I don’t have the strength to exorcise him, and if he puts me down, I can’t stop him. I could lose contact with you.

  It’ll be fine, Gem, the prince assured her.

  Snog voiced his own concern, “Uh, milord? It nay be a good idea to be touchin’ a necromancer’s toys, sir.” The goblin had retreated several steps and looked ready to bolt.

  Lian bent down and picked up the skull, brushing dirt off of it gently. “It will be all right, Snog,” he said.

  “Are you hurt, Lord Grey?” he asked the skull, righting it onto his left palm.

  “No, thank you for asking, Alan,” he replied, rather impatiently.

  Guess he was told to keep quiet after that last spell, Lian commented to Gem. Gem’s chuckle in return was along their private bond. Snog, however, looked none too happy about the skull. He swallowed hard, and shrugged.

  “Certainly,” Lian said. “I’m sorry that I dropped you back in Whitefall.” There was real contrition evident in his voice.

  “That I didn’t mind, boy,” Lord Grey said. “What I minded was the company you left me with. Lyrial was the worst sort of necromancer. But I’m glad to see that you escaped from the knight, and that you’re alive and unhurt.

  “You’ll want to recover Lyrial’s saddlebags, though. Your equipment is in them, as well as some other things that may be useful. That fool should have known better than to ride Temvri’s steed when the bastard was fighting a duel,” he finished, derision dripping from his tone.

  Lian turned to Snog and said, “See if you can scout out where the horse disintegrated. Be careful, because a few of A’kra Vilsha might be foolish enough to double back.”

  The goblin extinguished his pipe and nodded. “Aye, sir, I’ll find it, but I’ll not be touchin’ anything of Lyrial’s. I’ve nay wish to ‘ave a curse slapped on me.” He seemed eager to leave the skull’s company.

  “First, you’ll probably want that knife you threw back,” Lian said. “Lord Grey, did you see where it landed from your vantage?”

  The skull said, “No, I didn’t. Whatever event you’re describing didn’t happen until after we reached the tree line. If Lyrial had been smarter, he’d have held Temvri back long enough to deploy the goblins and Undead, but he wasn’t much of a tactician.

  “I wasn’t about to correct his mistakes,” the skull said coldly.

  Lian said, “Thank you for that.”

  “It was nothing. I didn’t want to face a decade or two of serving that bastard, in any event,” the skull said, his tone turning sinister. “Not that I’d have made a pleasant unwilling servant.”

  Snog shivered a little, and moved off toward the forest. “We’ll find the knife later, or we won’t,” he said cheerfully. “I just hope that when the weres return they’ll know I’m with you.”

  Once Snog was gone, Lian paced the area in the field where he thought the dagger had landed. “Keep an eye out, both of you, for the weapon. It’s Snog’s reward, and I’d like to make sure he gets it.”

  Both of them indicated that they would watch for the magics of the enchanted blade.

  “While we’re alone, Lord Grey, I’ve some things to discuss with you,” Lian said as he continued to look for the weapon.

  “I thought you might, Alan,” the skull replied, using Lian’s assumed name.

  “Did you tell Lyrial who I was?” Lian asked.

  “No,” Lord Grey said. “However, he recognized both you and Gem. From some things Lyrial said, I believe that he’s been to Court at some point. He interrogated me about you, but didn’t have much luck in forcing me to talk. I allowed him to believe that he had dominated me, up to the point when I cast that spell into the infantry.”

  Lian was relieved, though he had been too well trained by Elowyn to accept the necromancer’s word without some wariness. “What was he searching for in the mines?”

  Lord Grey snorted. “He was looking for Tirian’s Ring. Tirian was a first-rank necromancer from the Theocracy’s heyday, and he crafted himself a very potent aid to the black arts, in the form of a ring. After Tirian’s death, according to legend, it made its way from bearer to bearer, until it was supposedly lost somewhere in this region.

  “The sage Lyrial hired to research the matter was convinced that the necromant Alurna, the last known possessor of the ring, had gone in search of lashthirin and had run afoul of some monster up here. I suppose that when he found the goblins mining lashthirin, it seemed too close a coincidence to let pass.”

  Lian said, “You don’t seem convinced he would have found it down there.”

  He chuckled. “He wouldn’t have. You see, Tirian’s Ring is still in the Tower, gracing the dewclaw of one of the dragons imprisoned the same way Gilaeshar was. Skirveth, I think, is the wyrm’s name, and he’s the reason we are speaking of Tirian in the past tense.

  “Necromancers shouldn’t mess with dragons, unless they’re already dead,” he said sardonically.

  Gem interrupted, “I think it’s between us and that tree with the huge knob,” indicating the dagger.

  Lord Grey said, “Gem’s right. Your magical senses are keener than mine, Lady.”

  Or so we are meant to believe, Lian thought as he headed that way. “So when he captured you, he didn’t need the ring anymore?”

  “No, he still wanted it,” said Lord Grey. “There is an element of the unknown about me that disturbs most folks.”

  Me among them, Gem said privately.

  I take everything he says with a grain of salt or ten, Lian said. Don’t doubt it, old friend. But his help’s damned useful, and I need it.

  Lian stooped to pick up the dagger, wiping it off on his tunic. As he sheathed it, a thought occurred to him. With a glance to where Ysras was still licking Snarl’s wounds a hundred yards away, he said, “Lord Grey, can you take a good look at Gem? Magically speaking, I mean? She hasn’t been recovering her mana stores at any respectable rate.”

  “Really?” he said. “I had assumed that she used an external source, like you perhaps. A sword spirit with her own mage talent is a pretty astounding accomplishment.

  “Who made you, Lady Sword?” he asked, admiration evident in his voice.

  Gem answered, “Lian’s mother.”

  “She was a Great Artificer, then,” he said, and sang a short, sweet, and melodic song.

  Divinatory, at a low power level, Gem observed. It’s probably something to let him see the magic better.

  Keep an eye on what he does anyhow, Lian said, attempting unsuccessfully to hide his grief from Gem. I know that Gilaeshar told you he can’t cast spells directly against us, but you might not quite be covered. You saw what he did to the goblins.

  You know I will, Gem said with conviction. There was no question of her distrust of the skull from in her mental tone. She felt Lian master his welling grief for his family’s demise.

  The skull said, “I need to study her enchantments for several hours, Alan. My spell is background magic that a mage will sense, but your vampiric friend will most likely think that it’s something Gem threw on me, perhaps to keep watch on me.

  “He won’t be able to discern that it’s my spell, since I chose a spell from the general body of knowledge.” Lord Grey was referring to �
�uncolored” magic, or hedge wizardry. Most mages were skilled at only a few of the melodies used for hedge magic, rather concentrating on the magics that were their specialties.

  “It’s a bit more carefully woven than most petty magic,” Gem commented. “And I don’t recognize the specific spell.”

  Lord Grey said, “That’s because it’s one I developed, a long time ago. It’s a very good spell for discovering what magics are affecting something, but it’s very, very slow. It also takes a great deal of my concentration, so you’ll forgive me if I don’t answer you for awhile.”

  Researched a petty magic spell? Lian said to Gem. Isn’t that kind of unusual for someone with his kind of power?

  Well, we’re assuming that he had this kind of power when he was alive, for one thing, Gem replied. And who knows how old he is? For all we know, he did it a thousand years ago, but still after he got bound by that curse.

  You think it’s a curse? Lian asked, curious.

  I do. Or a punishment, but if so the god in question didn’t “sign” it, she answered. Most divine curses had incorporated into them the symbol associated with the god that enacted it. This served as a warning for mortal mages not to attempt to unravel the curse, and also marked the wrongdoer as someone who had angered the god. Such signatures were only actually seen by mages and priests, although most of them flared visibly when a holy boundary associated with the religion was crossed.

  Some gods did not mark the victims of their curse, which might mean that the deity wasn’t truly incensed at the victim. It could also mean that the deity wasn’t concerned about attempts to release the curse, whether because it couldn’t be broken or perhaps because it would strike out at the mage who dared.

  “Contagious” curses were rare, but enough of them existed in legend to make any mage pause before trying to tackle a hex laced with divine power.

  Snog reappeared at the edge of the forest and waved to Lian, then started to cross the field. Lian motioned him to wait, and moved toward him. The goblin began the process of lighting another of his pipes, while keeping watch on the forest around him.