The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 2 Blood Honor and Dreams

by Melissa Myers

  “What happened to Nate?” Nallia whispered to him, and by the worry in her voice he realized she was drawing the same conclusion.

  Lord Avanti paused a moment to look down at the children. Dahlla rose quickly and curtsied with a smile. “High Lord Avanti, Lord Nate, Father,” she greeted each in turn in a voice that promised to be beautiful when she was older.

  Lucias, who was well accustomed to seeing his grandfather, simply nodded respectfully and promptly grabbed a blue block from Dahlla’s stack. “Grandfather,” he mumbled ignoring his uncle and Sovaesh completely, his attention already set on molding the blue glass in his hands.

  Lord Avanti nodded to them both and glanced toward Lady Davahni. The smile faded a bit from his handsome face as his expression grew more calculating. He turned on his heel and made his way to the large desk that occupied most of the northern wall.

  “What happened to you?” Truce asked his brother quietly, once their father’s back was turned.

  “Don’t trouble yourself over it,” Nate hissed back and followed after their father to stand beside the desk.

  “His injuries are the result of his failure,” Lord Avanti said loudly, his gaze fixed on Truce. Truce nodded slightly, not understanding in the least what his father was talking about but knowing better than to mention that fact. He watched his father pour a large tumbler of brandy and waited patiently for the man to continue. “Something that seems to be happening with more frequency in this house,” his father added, his gaze falling on Sovaesh now.

  Sovaesh stood straight, his eyes locked on the High Lord. If there was any remorse in the Assassin’s heart, Truce saw no sign of it. As always, he wore the long trench coat as well as his mask and hood. His arms were folded inside the coat and Truce had the uneasy feeling they rested on weapons.

  “What is going on?” Nallia whispered as she shifted her stance, leaning more heavily on his arm. He shook his head slowly and pulled his wife closer.

  “Nathan was charged to bring me the Fionaveir bastard and in the process of his failure he managed to lose six fighters as well as a transport and, of course, we cannot forget the gold we paid the Rivasans for the rebel,” Lord Avanti said, his gaze falling on his youngest son once more. “Tell your brother what mighty army it took to defeat you, Nathan.”

  Nate shifted again and let out a disgusted sigh. Truce felt sympathy for his brother. While they didn’t always get along, it was never pleasant to be on Father’s bad side. “Christian Morcaillo destroyed the ships and stole the prisoner. I recognized his ship,” Nate said, his voice quiet and filled with anger.

  “One single solitary boy destroyed our fleet as well as the Rivasan escort, and you were able to do nothing to stop it,” Lord Avanti pressed.

  “No one was, Father. There was a dragon there as well and Christian used some magic to make her head explode. It was terrible, Father. I watched the corpse fall to the waves.” Nate’s voice rose as he spoke and he seemed desperate to regain their Father’s approval.

  “You disgust me,” Lord Avanti said, his expression echoing his words perfectly. Shaking his head slowly, he turned to regard Sovaesh once more. “And you,” he began, his tone changing from disgust to anger. “I understand you threatened my daughter.”

  “If she took it as a threat, you have my apologies. It was meant as a warning,” Sovaesh said calmly.

  “You are not in the position to be offering either to any of the Avanti house. You are a servant. Do not let your daughter’s marriage to my son cloud your eyes to your station in life Sovaesh.” Lord Avanti’s voice rose with the words and he stood behind the desk. Bracing his hands on the solid oak, he leaned toward the Assassin with fury clear on his face. “I had thought that we had an understanding, Sovaesh, but it appears we don’t. I have heard whispers of your feelings on my actions and I will not be judged by the likes of you.”

  “Whispers, eh?” Sovaesh replied calmly and Truce felt his body tense. He hadn’t breathed a word about his private talk to anyone, but Sovaesh would doubtless believe he had. “Well, I will say it more loudly than a whisper then. I believe you are acting in error by siding with Morcaillo in this would-be war. I detest your daughter’s actions and I warned her against moving further against my son. I think if she presses this conflict Finn will kill her.”

  “Sovaesh, please don’t,” Davahni rose from her chair quickly, causing it to fall behind her with a loud clatter. “Milord, please I beg mercy for my husband. He is a proud man,” she added, moving swiftly forward to bow deeply before the desk. Truce watched her silently and bit his lower lip to keep silent. Davahni had been a ward of House Avanti since before he was born and by rights, should have been nearly a sister to him, and yet she was obviously terrified of his Father.

  “Your wife has better sense than you do,” Lord Avanti said, a smile forming as he gazed down at Davahni. “Beautiful and intelligent. Very few men are so blessed, Sovaesh. You should have listened to her before now.” He stood straight again as he spoke and looked down at the kneeling woman with pitiless eyes. “I have no more mercy for your husband. I’m sorry. Davahni. I’m afraid I’ve entirely run out of pity today.” His gaze trailed across his two sons and then lingered on Truce. “What do you do with a dog that threatens to bite its master, Truce?”

  “If the dog is a good hunter and has been faithful in the past, you try to determine what is causing the aggression and fix the problem there. Such creatures are hard to replace, father,” Truce answered carefully, taking care to keep his eyes on his father and away from Sovaesh.

  His Father regarded him coolly and then turned to Nate. “And your answer?”

  “You find a stronger method of training the dog and if it still wishes to bite, you kill it and find one with better manners,” Nate replied with a slight smile.

  “Ahh, well, it reassures me to know at least one of my sons has common sense. This is why your sister is in charge in Sanctuary rather than you, Truce. Too often lately, I have found you disappointing. Perhaps I should consider naming a new heir. Though you do have a head for business, perhaps you would make a worthy steward for your Brother.” He opened a drawer as he spoke and removed a slender wooden box from inside. It was barely bigger than a small book but Truce knew the sight of it too well. His gaze flicked to Sovaesh once again and then to the wooden box. Panic began to rise in his chest as his father started to undo the fastenings.

  “Father, no, you can’t mean to use that on Sovaesh,” he protested, pulling his arm back from his wife and stepping forward.

  Lord Avanti’s gaze rose from the box to his son and he smiled coldly. “Actually, I’m going to let Sovaesh choose.” He pushed the lid of the box fully open and turned it to where the Assassin could see the contents. Then he looked down at Dahlla who stood silently staring with wide eyes. “I no longer trust your motives, Sovaesh, so I will have insurance to your good behavior. I can either keep your wife and daughters here with me or you can choose the box. I have no doubt that you know what this is,” he said as he lifted the long silver chain from the desk and held it up.

  “Please, no, Milord,” Davahni begged, though Truce thought he was the only one in the room that even looked at the woman. The others simply ignored her, despite the tears that were coursing openly down her face. Truce felt his heart go out to her and frantically sought for a way to avert this disaster.

  To one unfamiliar with such devices, it looked innocent, merely a slender bit of metal. To those that knew the purpose of the chain, however, it was a creation of fear. “Dahlla has grown into quite the beauty. I’m sure you realize that a girl of her potential only rises as far as society will allow. She could have a very promising betrothal or a future much darker …” Lord Avanti’s voice trailed off ominously and his gaze returned to Sovaesh. “What will it be?” he asked sweetly, as if awaiting a selection of wine rather than a man’s future.

  “Father, perhaps Dahlla could simply stay with Nallia and me and surely that would be insurance enough,” Truce
offered stepping forward once more.

  “Truce, if I thought you had a spine, perhaps, but no, I don’t think so.” His father’s voice was mocking and Truce felt his skin prickle with warning. If he didn’t watch his actions more closely in the future he could find himself standing in the same spot as Sovaesh.

  The Assassin’s gaze never wavered from his father. He simply removed his coat and dropped it on the edge of the desk. Silently he pulled the mask and hood off as well. Truce stared in open astonishment at the man, not quite believing the choice he had obviously made. He had never before seen his Father-in-law without the mask and found it difficult to not stare at his face. While it was obvious Sovaesh had been handsome once, the thick scars marring both cheeks drew the eye and held it. Whoever had carved the sigil into the skin had used Tevrae and the herb had prevented proper healing. He knew the rune carved there well enough, it was the Firym mark for exile, or Sovaesh as they said the word.

  “Sovaesh, no, don’t do this. We will stay here,” Davahni cried and rose to her feet, rushing to her husband’s side. She shook her head at him frantically and tried to pull him away.

  “It’s OK, Davi. It will be fine,” Sovaesh told her quietly in a voice so filled with love it made Truce’s throat tighten. The rumors about what Sovaesh had endured to win the right to marry Davahni had always seemed too fanciful to his ears. Now, however, Truce found himself believing them all. Sovaesh kissed Davahni gently on the forehead and wiped the worst of the tears from her pale face. “Trust me and know that I love you and Dahlla too much to risk either of you.” He pushed her back gently toward their daughter.

  “Momma, what is going on?” Dahlla asked quietly, tears beginning to form in her green eyes. It was obvious the child was confused but knew something very bad was coming.

  “Hush, Dahlla,” Davahni whispered and clutched her daughter to her.

  “How touching,” Nate mocked and Truce glared at his brother. There were times he found himself wondering if he was adopted. Now was definitely one of those times. It seemed he was the only one in his family that actually possessed a heart.

  “Fetch the guards to hold him,” Lord Avanti ordered and Nate nodded quickly, a smile on his battered face.

  “I don’t need to be held,” Sovaesh objected and braced his hands on the desk. “Just get it done with,” he added, his gaze locking on Lord Avanti.

  “So be it,” the Lord said with a faint smile and then dropped the chain back into the box. With a faint smile he pushed the box idly toward the edge of the desk and looked directly at Truce. “Do it,” he ordered in a voice that brooked no arguments.

  Truce hesitated. He wanted nothing to do with any of this and the idea of using the chain sickened him. He swallowed heavily and considered holding his ground.

  “I’ll do it,” Nate offered happily, already moving toward the box.

  “Your brother will do it,” their father said, his voice firm and his eyes still locked on Truce.

  “Do it, Truce,” Sovaesh whispered.

  With a sick feeling in his stomach, Truce moved forward and picked up the chain. It seemed light in his hands despite what it was. Taking a deep breath he moved to stand behind Sovaesh and lifted the chain. To his surprise his hands were not shaking as he carefully lowered the device and placed it along the man’s back.

  “Make sure it lines properly. I have no wish to be a cripple,” Sovaesh said quietly, his voice holding no anger at all.

  Truce nodded and adjusted the chain to as close to perfect as he could manage. His gaze lingered on the faint marks crossing the man’s pale skin and he realized the stories about Sovaesh were, in fact, true. These lash marks were further proof of it. Unable to keep himself from looking, he tilted his head slightly to get a glimpse of Sovaesh’s arms. Around each wrist the skin was puckered with manacle scars. He swallowed heavily again and tried to fight down the sick feeling that was building in his gut. Despite everything the Assassin had endured to prove his loyalty, he was still being forced into this.

  “I don’t want to stand like this all day, Truce,” Sovaesh growled.

  Truce felt himself nod despite the fact that the man obviously couldn’t see him and checked the alignment of the chain once more. He spoke the command word for the device in a barely audible voice and watched the metal sink into the man’s back.

  It would wrap around the spine with delicate tendrils of wire. He knew how the item functioned well enough from his lessons. This was the first time he had ever seen one used on anyone but a slave, though. They were usually reserved for those that were of very little value to the house. There was always a risk that they would damage the spine if the one placing the chain wasn’t paying enough attention. With a disobedient slave however it scarcely mattered. The general belief was it saved the slaver the trouble of having to kill the slave if it failed, and if it worked, well then you had a very obedient slave. Truce had never even heard whispers of a “chained” slave becoming unruly.

  He stepped back from the desk once more and watched with held breath as the Assassin once again stood straight. If there was any damage or pain the man didn’t show it. Truce had always heard that the chaining process was excruciating, but Sovaesh hadn’t made a sound. Perhaps it was mental pain they spoke of, the knowledge that you had just lost all hope and free will.

  “Well then, I’m so glad that is over with. Here is a new list of your marks, Sovaesh. I realize that you will be unable to reach some of them due to the barrier over Sanctuary but do see that the others on the list are dead soon.” Lord Avanti’s voice was light and chipper now and Truce simply stared at his father in disbelief.

  Sovaesh looked down at the offered paper and only hesitated a moment before accepting it. With a neutral expression he scanned the list of names and then nodded to his Lord. Still silent, he began to dress himself once more, moving a bit gingerly as he pulled his shirt on. His gaze tracked Lord Avanti and Nate as they left the room, talking quietly with each other as they walked. When the door had closed behind them he looked to Truce and smiled faintly.

  “My daughter chose well in you, Truce. You are a good man despite your name. I hope you don’t cry when I kill those bastards though.” He winked and continued getting dressed while Truce gaped at him.

  The man was chained now, though he didn’t seem to realize the implications. If he made any move outside of the Lord’s pleasure the chain would snap his spine in several pieces and bore into his mind. The death was a horrible one and inescapable, no matter how fast you healed. “I’m so sorry this happened,” Truce said quietly, unsure if he was talking to Sovaesh or everyone in the room.

  “Not half as sorry as your father will be,” Sovaesh replied as he pulled his mask up over his scars. “Go home, Davi. I’ll be there later tonight. The lord has work for me,” he said and bowed his head to Truce before leaving the room.

  Chapter 24

  Gaelyn

  Snarls erupted from the cage as Shade dumped the last of the meat scraps into the pen. He stepped back several feet and watched the goblins feeding. There was a smaller one to the back that seemed to be getting the best of the portions without the snarling fuss the others were making. Shade kept his eye on the creature and noted how it would wait for a fight to break out between its larger brethren and then slip down low to grab the choice pieces from under them. It didn’t seem to be snarling or spitting either as was normal for the goblins.

  “One of every species, I suppose,” he said quietly and turned to find Charm watching him with a raised eyebrow.

  “One what?” the rogue asked, barely sparing a glance for the goblins. Over the past month Shade had captured and fed close to a hundred of the creatures and Charm had done his best to avoid every cage load. It was no secret among them that the rogue hated the little monsters and considered them little better than vermin.

  “Thinker, you know, like Marrow or Emily. Kali seems to have her flukes out of every species she creates,” Shade answered and looked back towa
rd the camp. “How’s he doing?” he asked quietly. Remedy’s physical injuries had healed quickly enough, though he still had a few fading wounds. It was the mental part he was having difficulty with. Since learning of the Barrier over Sanctuary the man had become convinced he had betrayed the Fionaveir, though he professed no memory of it. No matter how many times Shade tried to reassure him he couldn’t seem to get through to the man. Remedy simply refused to believe that there might be corruption in the Fionaveir ranks despite the building proof of it.

  Charm shrugged, his expression neutral. “The same as he has been. I wish I could say he is improving. I think once we get him back to the Fionahold it may get better.” He glanced toward the goblins and then back to Shade. “How much longer do you think it will be here?” he asked quietly.

  “Tonight, if we can get Lutheron here. I need to gem this batch of them but other than that we are good to go,” Shade answered drawing an amazed look from Charm.

  “Already?” he asked glancing back at the cage once more as if he could somehow get a total count from the remaining few that were caged.

  “I have eighty-two stones already and there are fifteen in that cage. If that isn’t enough I think we are screwed on this whole mission,” Shade replied with a shrug. “The alchemical mix is a stout one and this will be more damaging than you think Charm.”

  “I can’t believe we are really going to do this,” Charm muttered and then gave a curt nod. “I’ll contact Lutheron and see if he will meet us soon. I’ve heard he is fighting Blights in Faydwer, though. Is there any way to do this without him?”