By Blood Betrayed (The Kingsblood Chronicles)

by Houpt, David

  Yes, she would contact the mage as he’d arranged, and be done with entire whole matter.

  That would be best.

  ***

  The barkeeper brought out two plates of fish and potatoes, as well as a pitcher of the better quality ale. Lian noticed that the scout’s portion had been dropped into the ashes, but Snog tore into it greedily and without comment. The woman nodded politely to Lian and said, “I’ll arrange a room for ye at the inn later on, lord. The lads from the ships’ll be comin’ in around dusk, and ye’ll have time to wash up and rest before that.

  “Otherwise, I don’t know what help I can be to ye,” she said, then returned to her bar to ring a large bell hung from the wall behind it. She rang it unhurriedly, three even beats.

  Within a few minutes, one of the village children, a boy of about nine years, burst into the tavern. “Miss Shana, ma’am?” he asked as he eagerly approached the bar.

  “Your turn again, Matt?” she asked good-naturedly, handing him a brass pin.

  “Lennie’s down with the fever again, ma’am,” he replied innocently as he carefully fixed the pin, worth about a tenth of a copper piece, under the collar of his shirt. “His dumb luck, if ye ask me, ma’am.”

  “I’ll tell him ye said so, Matt,” she bantered, and nodded toward her two patrons. “Ye stay ‘ere and watch the place fer me. Ye remember what to do if there be trouble?” She handed him the mallet she’d used to ring the bell.

  Matt nodded, and Lian said, “There’ll be no trouble for the lad, barkeep. You can be sure of it.”

  She nodded but didn’t reply. She said to the boy, “I’ll be back in a half a bell or so.”

  “Aye, Miss Shana,” he said seriously and took up a perch on a stool behind the bar, within easy reach of the bell. He stared suspiciously at Lian and Snog with a huge frown on his face, as if he expected them to carry off the huge kegs and then start on the mugs.

  This evoked a smile from both of the warriors, who turned back to their meal.

  Shana knew there was little time, so she hurried to the inn, which was really the mayor’s house. She stopped there briefly to inform the mayor’s wife, Kalra, that there would be guests at least for the night, and then practically ran to the hut she shared with her husband Kade, the sheriff. This time of day, he’d be hanging around the smith and the cooper, jawing about fish they’d all caught when they were younger men. At least, she hoped that he was there and not in their shack.

  The one-room house was thankfully empty, and she hastily grabbed a few pieces of her jewelry and put them on, then dabbed a bit of tincture of rose petals on her lips. Complimenting herself for having created an ostensible reason for returning to her house, she drew the pendant out again, this time removing the necklace completely.

  She placed the gem between her palms and began rubbing them together as if to warm them. A ruby-hued smoke rose from between her hands and she whispered to it, describing the two strangers and the fact that they were looking for quick and quiet passage out of the country. She also mentioned that she expected they would find passage on the Searcher.

  She felt tremendously drained after making her report, but those feelings vanished as soon as she gazed into the gem again. She felt warm and contented, and assured that she’d made the right choice. He’d paid her in advance, after all, and she owed him this service.

  She put the necklace on again and straightened herself. She left the hut and returned to the tavern. Her customers had finished their food, but were still working on the ale. Matt, who was one of the pilots’ sons, was still warily watching the two, and didn’t appear to have moved.

  “Thank ye, Matt,” she said with a smile, relieved to have finished her task. “Ye make sure Lennie knows it still be his turn next, mind.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, jumping down from his stool and tossing the mallet carelessly behind the bar, “but right now I got a date with the candy jar, ma’am.” He dashed from the bar, heading for the town’s single store, two doors down from the Lonely Gull.

  “I let the woman at the inn know ye’re comin’, lord,” she said. It had not escaped Lian’s notice that she had touched some color to her lips, and that she was wearing jewelry that she hadn’t been before she left the bar.

  I guess she still likes me, he commented to Gem.

  Uh-huh, Gem responded tersely. Shana, as the boy had called her, didn’t appear to be any more comfortable in Lian’s presence than she had been earlier, but the sword supposed that she’d taken the chance to make herself more attractive to the mysterious Ardan. Despite being derived from a woman’s spirit, the blade didn’t have any more experience in the romantic affairs of humans than did her charge.

  What little knowledge she had of the subject was represented by a great deal of theory imparted by Lian’s various tutors, particularly Elowyn, but none of what Prince Alec would have considered to be “field work.”

  ***

  What the Argeshi told her was cause for some concern. Sileth didn’t inquire how the clan’s “Grandmother” had acquired the information. Fiala’s talents as a seeress had been powerful when the gypsy had been young, centuries before.

  Sileth knew the sheriff’s wife Shana well, for she took pains to keep track of all of Kolos’ known agents. Shana was not the sort to abandon her oath to the old king, but Fiala’s warning had been clear.

  “Shana’s taken up with a dark man, or perhaps he’s taken up with her, more like. She’s turned the boy over to his hunters, and he’ll be gutted and hung by his toes soon enough,” were the old gypsy’s words. Sileth knew her friend’s ways well, and knew, too, that she wouldn’t have bothered to tell the vampiress unless Sileth were in a position to intervene.

  She sighed and considered how best to handle this. Fiala had also said that she couldn’t See the boy with her talents, which could mean any of a thousand different things. She hoped that the trouble, when it came, would arrive after sunset, when her powers would be at their strongest.

  ***

  “Come on, Snog,” Lian said to the goblin. “Past time we took care of the horses.”

  “Right,” the goblin replied, hopping down from his chair with a surprising agility considering the amount of ale he’d consumed.

  “Ye’ll be at the inn, lord?” Shana inquired nonchalantly. She was back in her place behind the bar, idly polishing the brass bell. It was an unusual question, but he was here under unusual auspices.

  Snog said, “I don’ see as it be yer concern, barkeep.” He glowered at her as they left, muttering to himself in Govlikel.

  Elowyn had trained Lian to be paranoid, so he admonished Gem to be on her guard. She replied simply, Always.

  ***

  Mola had been a long shot. He fully expected the pendant he’d bestowed upon the one-eyed tavernkeeper to be a waste of resources. But he had been playing the Game for decades, and he was a careful man. His own strike against the king’s eldest son had been executed flawlessly, even though it regrettably had not been his weapon that had killed the prince. His own knife had claimed Alec’s wife Raeann, but the particulars of the attack had been his design.

  Now, he was gratified that he’d included the foul-smelling little community in his search. Few of his compatriots would have considered Mola to be a likely sanctuary, and fewer still would have invested any power to keep an observer there.

  He had received the woman’s report calmly, as he did most things, but the very thought of collecting the promised reward did quicken his pulse a little. Not that the duke hadn’t paid well for the original execution, no indeed. But Rishak’s resources had been stretched to the limit by hiring so many killers, as well as by the expense of maintaining his army in the field, close enough to Dunshor City to be brought in for the attack, magical gate or no.

  This payment would be much more generous.

  The mage named Ammon cleared his mind of emotion and summoned his power. The song to invoke the powers of his scrying ball was a beautiful one, and was
therefore one of his favorites. He projected his senses far afield, to the small town by the Greythorn shores, only to discover, to his amazement, that he couldn’t locate the tavern at all, much less the mercenary the woman had described.

  He has something to close the Eyes, he thought with glee, not at all dismayed by his inability to See. It’s got to be Lian. That’s why Rishak’s seers and mystics can’t find him. His renewed excitement at finding his quarry so quickly broke his concentration, but he didn’t care. He’d rest now and replenish his magical powers, for repeated conjuring over the past few days had taken its toll. Mola was only one of many places he’d visited in his search for the missing prince.

  Later, in the second hour after midnight, he’d open the gateway to Mola and see about garnering his wages. It would be then that his target’s reserves should be at their lowest ebb.

  The prince’s sword was of no concern to him, for Rishak had informed the gathered assassins of the curse which by now would have drained her available powers to a tiny fraction of their normal potential. Yes, his powers alone would be enough to overpower the goblin, the sword, and his target.

  Soon, he would be a rich man.

  Chapter Twenty One

  “Ei’dlasharo lient’e duir dann’e Ay’ain del mui’r maela mui’r dal.”

  “Great were the ships of the Dragons, and terrible was it to hear them roar.”

  -- Excerpt from an Aesidhe ballad about the Dragon Fleet, author unknown

  Snog seemed surprised that the village’s inn was the home of the mayor, but it was actually a common custom in Dunshor. The mayor’s house was generally one of the largest dwellings in any town, and a portion of the upkeep costs could be reclaimed by renting extra rooms to boarders.

  The mayor’s wife, a pleasant woman named Kalra, welcomed them gladly and helped to groom the horses personally. She had an easy manner with the animals, and was very friendly toward Lian. She appeared a bit nervous at the goblin’s presence, but showed no sign of hostility. Lian found this somewhat surprising, more evidence that the Companions kept any troublesome goblins far from Mola.

  “Will you be in Mola long, Alan?” she asked as she gently combed through the pony’s mane. Nightmare, ignoring the attention, kept his face buried in the grain that had been placed before him.

  “No, lady,” he replied as he worked on the bay’s flank. “My friend and I are bound to the Island Kingdoms, to see what sort of work we can find there. Our other companions are either dead or fled, and it is past time we left this land behind us.” It was close to the truth.

  “I regret that you met with ill fortune here, mercenary,” she said with her brow slightly furrowed, “but I hope that you do not blame this land for your troubles. Greythorn has always been kind to me.”

  “I intended no offense, goodwife,” he said hastily. “I only meant that a change of locale might bring us some well needed luck.” He felt uncomfortable saying this, since Ashira had already dealt him a full hand in escaping his uncle’s assassins. He prayed silently, Forgive my saying so, Lord of the Coin. I am deeply grateful for thy help in these few days. He didn’t know if the luck god were listening, especially since his moon had set already, but it was always wise to be cautious. The God of Luck was capricious in the best of circumstances.

  “I hope so too, Alan,” she said, brushing a steel grey lock away from her face. “Remounting must have been expensive up there near the mountains.” She nodded her head southward toward the mountains that separated Greythorn and the Venturi Plain.

  He raised his eyebrows quizzically and then glanced at the saddles, which must represent the style of the folk of Greythorn. “It was, lady. I have little of my cash left at all.” He decided that Shana would have instructed him to show Kalra the king’s token had she been one of Kolos’ servants, and instead withdrew one of the weathered silver coins.

  “A silver?” she said. “I’ll have to make you change. Surely Shana told you what the cost would be?”

  “She didn’t mention it, lady, only that your house was the village inn. If you can change this, I would be grateful. I have little copper remaining.” That wasn’t entirely true, since he had the big Fulnorian coins. But he intended to have Gem melt them into formless lumps, since he wanted no clue left behind, hinting of his destination.

  Fusing the Fulnor copper wouldn’t lower their value, except possibly to a sage or a collector. Unlike with Dunshor currency, he’d have to deal with a moneychanger to use the foreign coins, since there was no guarantee that they were of good purity. He’d get, if he were lucky, eleven parts in twelve of the true value of the copper in exchange. He could expect the same sort of rate for ingots or nuggets, and furthermore, they would raise no questions.

  “I do hope that you intend to stay for dinner,” Kalra said. “With guests, I think Gil will agree to slaughter one of the chickens.” She nudged Lian’s arm gently as she passed him. “I hate to admit it, but I do grow rather tired of fish for dinner all the time.” Her eyes sparkled with good humor.

  “I’m sorry, Lady Kalra,” he replied earnestly, “but I must make my acquaintance with the Searcher’s master tonight. They may depart at any time, and I don’t want to miss the opportunity.”

  She sighed, “Well, I doubt that they’ll be putting out any time soon, Alan. The main spar is down, and it’ll be a few days’ work to get it remounted, barring the use of spells. They have a mage, but my impression of him is that he’s a war mage, not one of the more, um, useful sorts.”

  He cocked his head at her. “The barkeep mentioned him as well. I got the impression that she didn’t really care for him.” Kalra seemed to be level-headed, and hadn’t given Snog the hard time Lian had expected. He wanted to know her opinion of the sorceror.

  “It’s a mite unusual for our burly barkeeper to speak ill of anyone,” Kalra said. “I will say that Reidar is a strange man, but I don’t feel threatened by him. I know from the talk I’ve heard of the Searcher’s crew that he is a skilled warrior as well as a mage, and that he’s apparently responsible for the ship’s survival. I don’t know what happened to them. None of them will speak of it, but it was bad enough to nearly sink the Searcher.”

  “It may seem a little ghoulish to ask this, Lady Kalra, but how many men did they lose?” he asked.

  “It’s an understandable question,” she replied, hanging the curry comb on its hook and wiping her hands on her apron. “I gather that they lost quite a few sailors, but not very many of the actual warriors. If you don’t know much about ships, you may find yourself hiring passage rather than finding a position with them.”

  He chuckled, “I fear that my knowledge of seamanship is reserved to abject seasickness, lady. I’m a fast learner, though.”

  She smiled at his comment. “Most captains don’t want green recruits for sailors, even if they learn fast. As far as I know, they haven’t tried to recruit from either the Gull or the fishermen, so I doubt you’d have any luck. Still, I will wish you good luck.” She smiled at him and went back into the house, calling over her shoulder, “Your room is the first one inside the back door, which will not be locked.”

  “My thanks, lady,” he called back, turning to Snog. “Let’s go back to the tavern.”

  “More fish fer us, milord?” he asked eagerly, showing his pointed teeth again. Lian had been amazed at how much pork he’d eaten in Greythorn City, and didn’t doubt that the goblin could effortlessly put away still more of the tavern’s fish.

  When they returned to the tavern, the officers from the Golden Gull were already there, lounging at the largest of the tables and nursing cups. They turned hostile eyes toward the goblin, but held their tongues. Lian knew that later, when the men became drunk, surrounded by their shipmates, that might change.

  Snog was thinking this as well, and said, “I mislike the look they be givin’ me, lord. Mayhap I best wait in the room?”

  “No, Snog,” he said. “We’ll be joined by the Govlish from the Searcher. I don’t exp
ect there’ll be trouble.”

  “I forgot the big lads, milord,” he said, relaxing the set of his shoulders a little. “Yer right, o’ course.”

  They returned to the table they’d used before and Shana promptly brought them more ale. Lian tossed her another copper from the change the mayor’s wife had given him. Again, he didn’t see her hands move, but the coin vanished from the air before her.

  Is that some kind of spell? Lian asked Gem.

  Not that I could see. Perhaps she is a mystic? she pondered to Lian. Mystics could perform magic-like “tricks” by using only the power of their minds. They were much rarer than the witchbreed, and their powers were not nearly as impressive.

  Could be. Maybe she’s just that good. He drank some ale to hide his internal dialogue. “Bring the goblin some more fish when you have a chance, barkeep,” Lian said to Shana, “without the ashes this time.” She nodded curtly.

  Shana moved on to the officers’ table and asked them if they wanted more ale.

  “Nay, good woman,” said the Gull’s captain. “We’re takin’ the ebb-tide. Seems a mite too many unsavory folk ‘r in town, an’ my crew’s achin’ to be leavin’.” With a pointed glare at the goblin, he rose and alerted his men with a gesture. They bolted the remainder of their ale and followed their captain out.

  Outside, the evening breeze from the ocean had sprung up, and the temperature in the tavern dropped from sweltering to pleasant. Out on the docks, the crewmen of the Searcher were finishing up their day’s work, and several of them paused to watch the Golden Gull begin pulling away from the dock. Lian could see that the men were turning a capstan on the afterdeck, and that a rope or cable was feeding through it. It didn’t, however, haul up an anchor.

  “Shana?” he asked as the barkeep blocked the door open to allow the seabreeze to enter the tavern. “How are they moving the ship?”

  She glanced up and replied, “There be cables buried in the bottom of the bay, milord, left over from older, more prosperous days. The Companion Shaidrak designed ‘em, he did.” She made a small gesture with her hands when she said the vampire’s name, her thumb and forefinger pressed together and her other three fingers outstretched and pointed at the ground.