By Blood Betrayed (The Kingsblood Chronicles)

by Houpt, David

  The goblin had quickly acclimated to the ship’s tossing, and was now chewing on a few strips of salted pork.

  Lord Grey enacted a semi-permanent enchantment on the room so that voices within could not be heard from outside. This allowed he and Lian to speak. “I have studied the ship and its occupants, at least as much as my position in this cabin allows,” he said on the first night after he cast the spell, his whispered song nearly silent. Lian had chosen to leave the necromancer in the cabin, a decision of which Lord Grey did not approve.

  “And?” Lian asked, his tone curious yet undemanding.

  “There isn’t a curse, per se, but there certainly is an aura of misfortune about this ship. The captains recognize this, I think, and are attempting to reverse the attitude of the crew. It’s no small testament to their ability as leaders that their men remain aboard despite all that has befallen them. Most crews would have mutinied and abandoned the ship after a quarter of what this ship’s been through.” Lord Grey spoke flatly, as if he were pronouncing an edict gleaned from a stone tablet.

  “There is, however, another matter of concern. I find the rats in the bilge to be rather alarming,” he declared.

  “That’s significant?” Lian asked, involuntarily resting his hand on Gem’s hilt. The blade sent reassurance to her wielder.

  “I think that it is, Alan,” the skull replied. “Consider for a moment in whose land we were. How might a being such as Saul feed itself during a long voyage without the risk of being discovered abovedecks?”

  “You think we have a vampire on board?” Lian asked, unsurprised. He had suspected as much.

  “I am only saying that it’s a possibility, but a strong one. However, I can’t establish a ward like I did at the bakery without the risk that Reidar or another magically talented crew member would sense it and investigate.”

  “I thought that you could sense the presence of Undead,” Lian asked.

  “Well,” Lord Grey sighed, “there’s Undead, and then there’s vampires. They do belong to the ranks of the true Undead, but their deity is Lilith, rather He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The ‘children’ of the Dark Corruptor, myself included, have a kinship of sorts because of that relationship, but it is a severed bond where vampires are concerned.

  “Consequently, it is difficult for a necromancer to command a vampire, and likewise is difficult for a vampire to influence what you would consider to be ‘typical’ Undead,” the necromancer explained. “There is, of course, the consolation that the vampire won’t be able to sense my presence without spells which can also penetrate your veil.” His tone was almost triumphant, and Lian realized that Lord Grey was constructing a persuasive argument to be allowed abovedecks.

  “I was taught that necromancers couldn’t command vampires because of their intelligence and will,” Lian mused, choosing to ignore the skull’s hint. Actually, his education regarding necromancy was sketchy.

  “That is one theory, but an untrue one. Vampires are no more intelligent or strong-willed than other forms of traditional Undead. For example, it is easier for a black robe mage to command a greater barrow-wight than a vampire, even though the wight is far more powerful and usually vastly more intelligent than the vampire. But the necromancer gleans a majority of his power through channels associated with the Unnamed One, whereas vampires draw their powers from a tie to their divine mother, Lilith,” Lord Grey explained.

  “So what this all means is that one could be aboard, and you wouldn’t know it?”

  “Precisely. I must assume that the vampire in question is either a Companion or Greythorn himself, and if this is true, unless I use direct searching magics or a ward, I won’t detect them. The older ones are quite capable of masking their presence completely from prying eyes.”

  “Do we tell the cap’ns?” asked Snog from the bed, where he had been silently listening while sharpening his knives with extra caution born of a nicked finger. Earlier that day, a sudden pitch of the ship had cost him a fingertip. Reidar had finally produced an ointment and bandaged the wound, which had stubbornly refused to stop bleeding prior to the mage's ministrations.

  “I don’t think that would be a good idea for a variety of reasons,” Lian said. “If it is truly a Companion or their master, he would be here to protect me.”

  Lord Grey said dryly, “Is that so? How convenient for them that you took Saul at his word.” His tone dripped with sarcasm.

  Lian shook his head. “Look, if he wanted us captured, dead, or Undead, there would have been little to prevent it back in the city. Even with your help, Lord Grey, he had enough force at his disposal to take us.”

  “I cede the point,” Lord Grey said reluctantly, “but that doesn’t stop him from either changing his mind or having other motives entirely. I don’t want to burst your bubble, but there is another point you should consider, young Alan. Our mysterious stowaway could well be a Companion, but not an ally of Saul’s. According to his own tale, the Companions may not be his creatures any more. I know that I would have refused to continue serving him after his dismal lack of control.

  “He destroyed centuries, centuries, of work for the sake of one woman. A beautiful and capable woman, to be sure,” the skull said, not wishing to offend Lian, “but in the end she was not worth the cost. He knew that, but he let his passions overwhelm his mind and his duty. To me, at the least, that would be unforgivable.”

  “I have a question,” said Gem. “Should we search for the stowaway ourselves? We don’t know for certain that it’s down there, but it does seem reasonable. The rats did not flee the ship as we set sail, nor are they venturing above the bilge very much. I can still hear them down there, though I don’t hear anything besides them.”

  “Until we discover the truth of the matter, we stay quiet about it,” decided Lian. “The captains or Reidar may come to a similar conclusion and initiate their own search. Until then, we’ll monitor the rat situation, and see if the goblins run across any bloodless rodent carcasses. I don’t think it’ll be careless enough to leave bodies where they’ll be found, though. Even aboard a ship, there are places that a human can’t reach. A vampire could manage to get into those spaces, in a variety of forms, and leave the corpses behind…or throw them overboard, I suppose.”

  “Wise counsel, Alan,” Lord Grey confirmed. “I’ll second your suggestion. For now, though, you’d best settle down, because your neighbor’s heading below.” The skull referred to Reidar, whose room was opposite Lian’s. The sorcerer had one of only four rooms with a lock of any kind aboard the ship. Two were the captain’s cabins, which divided the upper level of the sterncastle. One was the room which served as a brig, when needed, and housed the ale and rum otherwise. The last was Reidar’s room, which Lian knew was one of the largest aboard. Wizards required a lot of room for their experiments, so the size of the mage’s quarters didn’t surprise Lian in the slightest.

  Although Reidar would be unable to overhear their conversation through Lord Grey’s ward, the band was in agreement that it would be difficult to form an explanation should he poke his head through the door. And in fact, as Lian and Snog prepared for sleep, the mage did knock on the door.

  “Enter,” Lian called, remembering too late that Reidar couldn’t hear him. Motioning Snog to open the door, Lian continued to stow his gear.

  “Good evening, Alan,” the sorcerer said amicably. “I would like to speak to your scout, if I may?” He propped his lanky frame against the doorjamb and smiled expectantly.

  “In private?” Lian asked with a raised eyebrow.

  Reidar held up a hand, “Oh, no, of course not. Snog, I’ve spoken to Kar and Sar, and they informed me that you are probably a shaman. Is this correct?”

  Snog shook his head. “Nay, milord. Tho, it be true, in a way, sir. I was ‘prenticed to the shaman for a while, ‘afore I got picked fer the scout trainin’. The shaman hisself said I’d be better fer that work than witchin’. I know a little o’ stuff, an’ I can talk to rats right eno’.” T
he goblin neglected to mention that he was an agent of Saael.

  Reidar nodded solemnly. “I didn’t think the lads were right about it, or you wouldn’t be up here on the surface, hey?” Snog shook his head, and Reidar continued, “I won’t tell them that they’re overestimating your magical threat, though. I’m sure it keeps them from picking on you too much.”

  “Tell ‘em what ye like, milord,” Snog said flatly. “That’s ‘tween us Gov, sir.”

  Reidar smiled faintly and nodded again. “Of course. Good night to the both of you, then.” He nodded politely to Lian before closing the door behind him. Lian heard him unlock his own door, and his footsteps went inside.

  Deciding that further conversation was too dangerous with the mage below, Lian hopped up into his hammock and relaxed until sleep captured him.

  The dreams of being hunted came again, as they had every night since they began. The details of the dreams varied, but in every one, four of his five beloved siblings gleefully led his pursuers, their faces twisted with an evil hatred. Jenine, his eldest sister, was absent from every single dream. Lian woke early, and fell back to sleep only after Gem sang softly to him along their mindlink.

  He’s not telling me the worst of those dreams, the blade thought to herself. There’s something about them that bothers him deeply. She was glad that the continent was behind them, but she knew that Rishak’s mages could still drop on them at any time, Firavon’s Key notwithstanding. Lian had not shared his nightmares with Gem, and this worried her.

  After both Lian and the goblin were deeply asleep, Lord Grey spoke. His voice was so soft that even Snog’s keen hearing wouldn’t be able to discern it, but Gem heard it clearly. “Gem?” he asked.

  Answering in kind, her blade barely vibrating with the faint sound, Gem replied, “Yes?”

  “You share a bond with him that the rest of us do not share,” the skull continued. “He is having recurring nightmares, isn’t he?”

  Gem knew that Lian awoke in a panic nearly every night, though he’d learned not to cry out loud as he’d done in Mola. It wasn’t hard to come to the conclusion that he was having nightmares. “Yes, he is, Lord Grey. He has not, however, shared their content with me, though it is obvious to me that he is deeply troubled by them. I believe that he assumes the dreams are a normal consequence of what he’s been through.

  “But you don’t think so?” she asked the skull.

  The skull thought about that for a moment, then said, “It’s too early to tell. I do not believe that he is demon-ridden, though, since that would have a noticeable effect on his aura. It could be an attack on him through dreams, however. The boy’s enemy would certainly have access to samples of his hair as well as several of his prized possessions.

  “The enemy’s attempts to locate Alan through sympathetic magic will not be successful, but that doesn’t prevent one of his mages from dreamsending our young friend. That, by the way, is one of the many things for which I am keeping a magical eye out, but my abilities are limited with a mage on board,” Lord Grey finished.

  “Reidar’s presence isn’t likely to change any time soon, but that leads me to an important question I’ve been meaning to ask you,” the sword said. “Who knew that you were in the Tower? Can Alan reveal your presence without betraying his identity?” She had other questions as well, but they could wait for discussions to be held other nights as their living companions slept. Secretly, and despite the company she was keeping, she was delighted that she and the necromancer could converse in this manner, for she found few things as boring as watching Lian and the goblin sleep.

  “As far as I know, no one but Elowyn knew that I was still in the Tower. There are certainly a few of the elder elves who would remember me, but I’m sure you can safely assume that for most purposes, I am an unknown. Gilaeshar was in the Tower for a very long time, dating back to Naveh’s generation at least. Revealing my existence may raise ugly questions for our young friend, but it will not reveal his identity.

  “Sooner or later, he will have need of the magics that I command. I would prefer that he carry me with him so that I can meet that need, but I understand his misgivings, and yours, Lady Sword.” The skull’s tone was serious, revealing none of his normal sardonic tone.

  “To magical eyes, I appear to be nothing more than some sort of magical device. The magics which seal my consciousness within this piece of bone render me invisible to magical detection as an entity. The only time my sentience can be determined is if I possess someone,” he said.

  “So Elowyn’s information was accurate?” she asked.

  “It was. He never told me how he knew my location, or how he knew that I was sentient. I surmise that he discovered Naveh’s journals, but I doubt I’ll get the chance to ask him.” The master assassin was almost certainly dead, but the necromancer chose not to belabor the obvious.

  The two magical beings conversed into the night, discussing Lian’s predicament. Despite her misgivings, Gem found the skull a good companion, at least when he was being agreeable.

  By noon the next day, the wind had almost completely abated, and Cedrick ordered full sails. Even with every stitch of cloth fully extended, the ship moved at a snail’s pace compared to their earlier, swift flight. Lian asked Doval if calm winds were a common occurrence. The two men were standing amicably next to the wheel, observing Kess dislodge the jam that Lian had caused in the loading mechanism as a training exercise. Lian bore the skull in a thick leather bag slung at his belt. Doval eyed it curiously, but didn’t inquire as to its contents.

  From their position, their backs were turned to Snog, who was maintaining his post next to the forward bolt-thrower while suppressing his newly resurgent nausea. The slower pace meant a great deal more pitching, and the goblin despaired of ever gaining his true sea legs.

  “Aye, Alan,” Doval replied. “Sometimes we’ll be hanging at irons for days. You ken my meaning?” Lian nodded his head. Some of the nautical terms were still beyond him, he recognized the term “irons” to mean that the sails hung loosely, flapping in the nearly still breeze.

  “What do you do then?” Lian asked, extracting a bark-like laugh from the helmsman, a dour sailor named Varik. Lian’s talent with names helped him keep the helmsman’s name distinct from Yarek’s, but Snog had evidenced some trouble doing so.

  Ignoring the helmsman’s derision, Doval answered seriously, “Well, you wait it out, or if you’re in a real hurry you pay a mage to whistle you up some wind. In our case, that’d tie up Reidar’s magic almost completely, and neither the Captain nor Mr. Arden like that overmuch.

  “This wind’s pretty light, but we’re still moving, so we don’t dare complain. We sailors are a superstitious and pious lot,” Doval continued with a grin to let Lian know he was at least partially joking, “and we don’t seek to offend the fair winds that any god sends us, however slowly we sail.”

  He interrupted the conversation to call commands to some of the sailors who were adjusting the sails. Lian couldn’t see that the correction made a difference, but he assumed that the bosun had a reason for his orders.

  He took the opportunity to make a suggestion to Kess, who hadn’t made much progress unjamming the weapon’s cranequin. Kess’ look of consternation transformed to one of understanding as his chief’s advice became clear to him. “I see it, Mr. Alan!” he said excitedly. He cranked the winch carefully, then stopped before the locking mechanism advanced to the next spoke of the gear, and held it there. Concentrating mightily to hold the crank steady, he maneuvered the offending piece of steel out of the mechanism with a pair of tongs.

  Lian’s smile at the young sailor’s success was echoed weakly by Snog at the other end of the ship. The goblin had finished retching over the side, and was sitting against the base of the forward railing observing Kess’ efforts.

  “Now make sure it’ll crank freely,” Lian suggested, moving to check the weapon for any sign of damage as he gave his instructions. Turning from Kess, he looked to Doval,
who was watching his own orders being carried out by his men. The bosun and the helmsman seemed to suddenly withdraw from Lian as he was seized by a sharp desire to change Searcher’s course. Shaking off the alien feeling and the illusion of distance, he walked back toward the other two officers.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  “Dui ‘r ni’ian lu lem’n ael eluri mela mor elea moor’n ken’dwr me’an.”

  “Let the winds carry their ashes homeward, ever higher, until the great Sun reclaims them.”

  -- Aesidhe burial prayer for heroes

  The rest of that day passed normally, although Cedrick and Ylen were sequestered in the Captain’s cabin all afternoon. When they emerged, the Captain motioned Lian to follow him. Day was setting, and Lian was tired from drilling Kess, as well as from a bit of sword work he’d practiced with Arden. The mercenary leader was an excellent swordsman, and was quite impressed with the skill that “Alan” showed. As Lian approached the sterncastle, he was once again seized by the overwhelming desire to change course. With great effort, he forced himself to suppress the feeling and entered the cabin where the captain and navigator waited for him.

  “This breeze is going to alter our estimated arrival time in Seagate,” Cedrick said without preamble. “Given that our speed was fifteen knots this morning, and is now roughly three and a half, how long will it take us to reach port if it remains constant?”

  Lian looked at the map, where a small figure of the Searcher was placed. First he moved it to the approximate place he estimated the ship’s present position to be, then he measured the distance to Seagate. Calculating the answer in his mind, he said, “Fifteen days instead of five.”

  Cedrick nodded approvingly, but Ylen merely grunted. “Simple enough to answer. Suppose instead that we shift our track to the south, hoping to catch stronger winds? Let us say we divert to a new heading of east-southeast, and take a curving course to Seagate?”

  Lian didn’t get a chance to answer the unpleasant little navigator, for the ship suddenly pitched heavily forward and to starboard, as if it had struck an underwater obstruction. Charts slid off the table, and nearly half of Cedrick’s gear clattered onto the floor. Lian seized the edge of the chart table and kept his feet, as did the captain, who merely shifted his balance. Ylen, however, was thrown backward into the wall, striking his skull on the bulkhead.