The Blood Knight

by Greg Keyes

  “So the Boar put it out that Rose had gone to work with her sister in Virgenya and made sure there was a record of her request to do so. Rose’s remaining family was quietly moved off lest in their grief they should begin talking to the wrong people.”

  Anne closed her eyes and felt a face there, pushed against the shutters of her lids, a pretty face with green eyes and an upturned nose.

  “I remember her,” she gasped. “They called her Cousin Rose. It was that time on Tom Woth, the Feilteme celebration. I couldn’t have been more than six winters.”

  “I was five, so you were six,” Austra confirmed.

  “You really think they killed her?” Anne murmured.

  Austra nodded.

  “I think she’s dead. It may have been an accident or a game that went too far. Robert has a lot of games, they say.”

  “And now he’s on the throne. My father’s throne. And he has my mother locked up in a tower.”

  “I-I’ve gathered that,” Austra said. “I’m sure he hasn’t hurt her.”

  “He’s ordered my death,” Anne replied. “There’s no knowing what he’ll do to Mother. That’s what I must concentrate on, Austra. Not whether I can be a queen or not but on freeing my mother and putting Robert where he can do no more harm. Just that, for now.”

  “That sounds sensible.”

  Anne breathed deeply and felt a bit of weight lift from her shoulders.

  They were back out of the forest now and coming down to the road. Anne could see Sevoyne in the distance, and she wondered if this time she would actually go past it.

  “Anne!” Someone shouted from behind. “Casnara, ah, rediatura!”

  She glanced back and saw Cazio, boxed closely on all sides by Craftsmen.

  “What is it, Cazio?” she replied in Vitellian.

  “Could you please instruct these men that I am one of your very valued companions? If indeed I am?”

  “Of course,” Anne said. She switched to the king’s tongue. “This man is one of my bodyguards,” she told the Craftsmen. “He may approach me whenever he wishes.”

  “You pardon, Highness,” one of the knights said, a pleasant-looking young man with auburn hair and something vaguely gooselike about him.

  “But we may take nothing for granted.”

  She nodded. “What is your name, sir knight?”

  “If it please you, Majesty, my name is Jemme Bishop.”

  “A good Virgenyan name,” Anne said. “I thank you very much for your protection. Despite his demeanor, this man has my trust.”

  “As you say, Majesty,” the fellow replied. The horses gave a little ground, allowing Cazio to ride up.

  “We’ve a retinue again,” he said, glancing back at the knights. “I wonder if this one will survive longer than the last.”

  “Let us hope so,” Anne said. “I’m sorry we haven’t spoken until now. Things are becoming more and more complicated, and I’m sure it must seem even more so to you.”

  “My day improved considerably when I discovered that you were still alive,” Cazio said. He rubbed his head ruefully. “I was a poor guardian to you—to the both of you. I have apologized to Austra, and now I apologize to you.”

  “You risked your life for us, Cazio,” Anne said.

  “Anyone can risk his life,” Cazio replied. “A man with no skill and no wits could die for you. I had hoped I was better than that. If I had died preventing you from being taken, that would have been one thing. But to be left, humiliated, in the wake of your kidnap—”

  “—is a matter of personal pride,” Anne finished. “Don’t be foolish, Cazio. I am alive, as you see. We were all caught sleeping: Aspar, Sir Neil, Frete Stephen, myself. You were in good company.”

  “It won’t happen again,” Cazio said adamantly.

  “If that pleases you,” Anne replied.

  Cazio nodded. “This lady, she is related to you?”

  “Elyoner? Yes, she’s my aunt, my father’s sister.”

  “And she is trustworthy?”

  “I have chosen to trust her. If you see evidence that I should not, however, please bring it to my attention.”

  Cazio nodded. “Where are we going?” he asked.

  “Glenchest, her residence,” Anne replied.

  “And what will we do there?”

  “We will plan to go to war, I suppose,” Anne replied.

  “Ah. Well, you will let me know when I can be of aid, then, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Anne!” Elyoner’s voice wafted forward. “Be a dear and send that Vitellian fellow back. I’ve begun to find this ride exceedingly boring.”

  “His king’s tongue is rather poor,” Anne answered.

  “Fatio Vitelliono,” she replied sweetly. “Benos, mi della.”

  “She speaks my language,” Cazio said happily.

  “Yes,” Anne replied. “So it seems. And I’m sure she wants to practice with you.”

  He glanced back. “Should I?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Anne replied. “But be cautious; my aunt can be dangerous to a man of virtue.”

  Cazio smiled and replaced his broad-brimmed hat. “If I meet such a man, then,” he said, “I shall be sure to warn him.”

  He turned and rode back.

  Austra watched him go with a rather disconcerted look on her face.

  “Austra,” Anne said. “The men who abducted you—did they say anything?”

  “They thought I was you,” Austra said, “or thought I might be.”

  Anne nodded. “I had the same impression, that their description of me wasn’t very good. Did they mention anyone by name?” Anne asked.

  “Anyone at all?”

  “Not that I remember.”

  “Did they touch you?”

  “Of course. They tied me up, put me on horseback—”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Anne said.

  “Not—oh. No, nothing like that. I mean they talked about it, threatened me with it even, trying to get me to say whether I was you or not. But they didn’t actually do anything.” Her eyes suddenly widened. “Anne, did they—were you—?”

  Anne jerked her head back toward Wist. “He tried. Something happened.”

  “Let Sir Neil kill him,” Austra gritted. “Or tell Cazio and let him challenge him to a duel.”

  “No. He failed, and I still may have use for him,” Anne said. She studied the reins in her hands. “Something happened, Austra. The man who kidnapped me, he died.”

  “Did you—did you kill him, the way you killed those horrible men in the grove?”

  “I killed the men in the grove by wishing them dead,” Anne said. “There was power there, beneath me, like a well of water I could drop my bucket into. I felt their insides, and I twisted them. It was the same as when I blinded the knight back in Vitellio or when I made Erieso sick—just, well, more.

  “But this was different. The man who abducted me was killed by a demon. I saw her.”

  “Her?”

  Anne shrugged. “I went to some other place. I think she followed me back. She stopped Wist from raping me.”

  “Maybe she isn’t a demon, then,” Austra said. “Maybe she’s more of a guardian angel.”

  “You didn’t see her, Austra. She was terrible. I don’t even know who I can ask about these things.”

  “Well, Frete Stephen seemed to know a lot,” Austra said, her voice sounding sorrowful. “But I suppose he’s—”

  “He’s fine,” Anne said. “And needed elsewhere.”

  “Really? How do you know that?”

  Anne thought about the Briar King and the things she had seen in his eyes.

  “I don’t want to talk anymore about this,” she said. “Later. Later.”

  “Very well,” Austra said in a mollifying voice. “Later.”

  Anne took a deep breath. “You just said you know me better than anyone. I think that’s true. And so I need you to watch me, Austra. Pay attention to me. And if ever you think I’ve lost my
mind, you must tell me.”

  Austra laughed a little nervously. “I’ll try,” she said.

  “I’ve kept things from you before,” Anne said. “I need—I need someone to talk to again. Someone I can trust, who won’t tell my secrets to another living soul.”

  “I would never betray your promise.”

  “Even to Cazio?”

  Austra was silent for a moment. “Does it show?” she asked.

  “That you love him? Of course.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Anne rolled her eyes. “Austra, I have friendly affections toward Cazio. He has saved our lives several times, which can be most endearing. But I do not love him.”

  “Even if you did,” Austra said defensively, “he would be below your station.”

  “That’s not at issue, Austra,” Anne said. “I do not love him. I do not care if you do so long as I can trust you not to tell him anything I ask you to hold in confidence.”

  “My first allegiance is, has always been, and will always be to you, Anne,” Austra said.

  “I believe that,” Anne said, gripping her friend’s hand. “I just needed to hear it again.”

  In the westering light, they reached Glenchest.

  It looked just as Anne remembered it, all spires, gardens, and glass, like a castle spun by the phay from spider silk. As a child she had thought it was a magical place. Now she wondered how, or if, it could be defended. It didn’t look like the sort of place that could stand a siege.

  At the gate there were ten men on horseback, wearing black surcoats. The leader, a tall, gaunt man with hair cropped right to his skull and a narrow beard, rode up to meet them.

  “Oh, dear,” Elyoner whispered. “Sooner than I would have hoped.”

  “Duchess,” the man said, bowing in the saddle. “I was just about to ride out in search of you. My lord will not be pleased at your behavior. You were to await me in your mansion.”

  “My brother has rarely been pleased with my behavior,” Elyoner said. “But in this case, he may not be so displeased. Duke Ernst, may I introduce my niece, Anne Dare? She seems to have been misplaced, and everyone has been scrambling about to find her, and look—I have.

  “And as I understand it, she has come to take your master’s crown.”

  “ARE Y’ GOING to tell me what that was all about?” Winna asked as their horses took them over a low ridge and out of sight of the princess—or queen, or whatever she was—and her newfound entourage of knights.

  “Yah,” Aspar said.

  After a few more minutes of silence Winna drew Tumble’s reins and brought the brindle mare to a halt.

  “Well?”

  “You mean now?”

  “Yes, now. How did you convince Her Majesty to release you to follow Stephen?”

  “Well, there was no need for convincing, as it happened. She wanted me to go after Stephen.”

  “That was nice of her.”

  He shook his head. “No, it was weird. She seemed to know he’d been taken. She said he’d need our help, that we had a task to perform, and that our going with Stephen was as important as her reclaimin’ the throne. Maybe more so.”

  “Did she say why?”

  “She didn’t know why, exactly. She said she’d had a vision of the Briar King, and he put it in her head that Stephen was important, somehow. And in danger.”

  “That doesn’t make an ale cup of sense,” Winna said. “The slinders came and got him, and they’re the creatures of the Briar King. So why should he be in danger? And if His Mossy Majesty wanted us to come along, why didn’t he just have us kidnapped, too?”

  “You’re asking the wrong fellow,” Aspar said. “I don’t even believe in visions. I’m just happy she let us go. Although…”

  “What?”

  “You saw the utins, yah?”

  “Utins?” She paled. “Like that thing that—” She stumbled off.

  “Yah. Three of ’em, at least. The slinders killed ’em. Maybe they were after Stephen, too. Maybe that’s why the king sent the slinders: to protect him.”

  “I thought you didn’t believe in visions.”

  “I’m just talking,” Aspar said. “I’m just happy to be on the trail.”

  “What else did Her Majesty say?”

  “That’s it—follow Stephen. Find him, protect him, help him. She said to let my own judgment be my guide. Said I was her deputy in the region, whatever that means.”

  “Really? Her deputy?”

  “You know what that means?”

  “It’s Virgenyan. Means you carry the same authority she does—that she’ll vouch for you. I don’t suppose she gave you any way of proving your authority.”

  Aspar laughed. “Like what? A sealed letter, a ring, or a scepter? The girl was chased halfway around the world, and from what I understand, most of that time she only had the clothes on her back. I reckon it’ll be sorted out later, if it needs sorting out.

  “Anyway, at the moment, I maunt having her authority doesn’t mean too much, yah? They may be callin’ her a queen, but she’s not one yet.”

  “Werlic,” Winna murmured under her breath. “There’s that way of looking at it.”

  They rode on in silence for a few moments. Aspar wasn’t certain what to say; every time he glanced at her, Winna appeared more troubled.

  “Stephen and Ehawk’ll be all right,” he assured her. “We’ll find ’em. We’ve come through worse than this, the four of us.”

  “Yah,” she said despondently.

  He scratched his face. “Yah. They’re fine.”

  She nodded but didn’t reply.

  “Meantime, it’s nice. I mean, we haven’t been alone together in a while.”

  She looked up at him sharply.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she snapped.

  “I…, ah, don’t know.” He felt his tumble, all right, but didn’t know what he had tripped over.

  She opened her mouth, closed it, then started again. “It’s not the time now. When we find Stephen.”

  “Time for what?” Aspar asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Winna—”

  “You’ve been cold as a post for twice a nineday,” she erupted, “and all of a sudden you’re trying to sweeten up your talk?”

  “It’s kind of hard to make luvrood when so many people are around,” Aspar grunted.

  “It’s not like I was expecting posies and poesy,” Winna said. “Just a squeeze of the hand and a whisper in my ear now and then. We might have died, without…” She dipped her head and clamped her lips shut.

  “I have to think you knew what you were getting into when you—” He stopped, unsure of what he was going to say next.

  “Threw myself at you?” she finished. “Yah. I never meant to do that. When I saw you at the Taff, I thought you were dead. I thought you had died never knowing how I felt. And when you were alive again, and we were away from everything—from my father, from the Sow’s Teat, from Colbaely altogether—I just didn’t care anymore, about consequences, about the future, none of it.”

  “And now?”

  “And now I still don’t care, you damned oaf. But I’m starting to wonder about you. Back when we were alone, it was wonderful. I spent half of my time terrified out of my wits, but that aside, I’ve never been happier in my life. It was just what I’d always dreamed I’d have from you: adventure, love, and good squirming in the dark.

  “But add a few people to the situation, and I’m suddenly like your bothersome little sister. She comes along, so much more like you than I can ever be—”

  He interrupted her. “Winna, don’t you ever want the normal things? A house? Children?”

  She snorted. “I think I’ll wait until the world isn’t ending before I start a family, thanks.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “And so am I.” Her green eyes were all challenge. “Are you saying I can’t have those things with you?”

  “I guess I never really thought about
it.”

  “So this is you talking out loud, without thinking close about what you’re saying?”

  “Ah, I guess.”

  “Yah, werlic. You’ll want to stop doing that.”

  An awkward silence descended over them.

  “I don’t think of you like a sister.”

  “No, of course not—less than a bell alone, and you’re all after hiking up my skirt again.”

  “I was just saying that I was happy to be alone with you again, is all,” Aspar said. “Just away from the others. And it’s not what you think. I’m a holter; I’ve never been anything else. It’s what I know how to do. I work alone, at my own pace, the way I want to, and I get things done. I’m not a leader, Winna. I wasn’t cut out for that. Four of us was bad enough. Five was practically intolerable.”

  “I didn’t think you minded it at all when Leshya joined us.”

  “This isn’t about Leshya,” Aspar said desperately. “I’m trying to tell you something.”

  “Go on.”

  “So, then all of a sudden there are fifty of us, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I’m not a knight, not a soldier. I work alone.”

  “So what does that say about me?”

  He took a deep breath, feeling as if he were about to dive into a very deep pool. “Being with you—and just you—is like being alone, but better.”

  She stared at him, blinking.

  He saw dampness appear in her eyes, and his heart fell. He knew what he wanted to say, but clearly he didn’t have the right words.

  “Winna—” he started again.

  She held up a finger.

  “Hush,” she said. “That’s the best thing you’ve said to me in a long time—maybe ever—so you probably want to shut up now.”

  Relief took hold of Aspar. He followed her advice and settled into the ride.

  Snow drifted fitfully, but he didn’t have much worry that the trail would get covered; the tracks of one or two slinders he might lose in a heavy snowfall, yes, but not the several hundred that had come this way. And it wasn’t just tracks they were finding but trails of blood and the occasional corpse. It might be that they didn’t feel pain or fear, but they died just like everything else.