The Vampire Queen Saga: Books 1-3: (The Vampire Queen Saga Boxset)

by William Stacey

  “Where, spirit? Where did you send the sword? Where is the niece of Stron?”

  “They… they go to warn the kingdom, to raise an army to stop you.”

  “Liar,” she said, her lips curled into a cruel smile.

  Taios’s corpse arched violently. Galas heard the now-brittle bones in his spine snap. His uncle’s screams were utterly alien, infinitely disturbing. Galas had tortured men before—in fact, the act thrilled him, gave him a secret, monstrous, erection—but this…this was somehow worse than just killing a man. She’s destroying his very spirit, Galas realized. There’ll be nothing left of him for the afterlife.

  When Taios finally stopped screaming, Serina leaned in closer, put her lips near where Taios’s ears had been before the crabs had eaten them. “You’re a brave man, Taios Oak-Heart, but don’t throw away your immortality simply to protect the living. You owe the living nothing.”

  “Voria Bay and the Windhelm clan,” Taios said bitterly. “They seek shelter among our allies.”

  “No, that’s not the answer I seek,” said Serina. “The niece of Stron would know they couldn’t stop me. What aren’t you telling me?”

  “My… my… my daughter,” gasped Taios. “Can’t.”

  Serina sighed, and then Taios screamed again, longer his time. Finally, Taios’s screams became a pitiful whimper again.

  Serina leaned forward and softly kissed Taios’s forehead. “All this suffering, it’s so unnecessary. Tell me what I want, and I’ll send you back, Taios Oak-Heart. Your daughter can meet you in Wodor’s Hall. Perhaps someday, you’ll both be reincarnated again as black fish, swimming the seas together, father and daughter. Wouldn’t that be pleasant?”

  “No…can’t.”

  “If you don’t tell me what I want to know, I’ll do the same to your daughter’s spirit after I’ve killed her. Don’t condemn her to this agony. Be a father. Where did she go with Sight-Bringer? Where is the niece of Stron?”

  “Daenipor,” Taios finally sobbed.

  “Why? Why sail to the Empire of Hishtar? That makes no sense.”

  Taios whimpered, shuddered. “She… she goes to recover something that will allow her to navigate within the Feral Sea.”

  Galas stared at his uncle’s corpse. “The Feral Sea? Why?”

  “Answer him. What item does she seek?”

  “Serl Raven-Eye’s shield.”

  “Why?”

  When Taios’s corpse hesitated, Serina sighed, shaking her head in resignation. She closed her eyes, and Taios began screaming again. The torment seemed to go on and on, much longer than the last time. When she finally relented, it took some long moments of whimpering before Taios’s corpse could speak again.

  “Torin Island,” Taios whispered, as if the words burned him. “The shield hides a map of Torin Island.”

  Galas stared at his uncle’s corpse in confusion. “That’s impossible. The fog. No one can sail in the Feral Sea.”

  “Torin Island,” said Serina, as if she had suddenly figured out a riddle. “That’s where it is, isn’t it? Your foul relative Serl took it from Auslaug and hid it away on that island, didn’t he?”

  “Please… please,” begged the corpse.

  “Tell me the truth, or I will destroy your soul, and then I’ll do the same to your foul daughter’s as well.”

  “Yes. Your… heart,” Taios finally gasped.

  Serina gasped. “I knew it. This is your plan, then? The niece of Stron will use the shard of Sight-Bringer on my heart? You would defy the gods and kill your own queen?”

  “You’re… you’re not a queen. You’re an abomination,” Taios whimpered. “The gods curse you and what you’ve become.”

  “I will stop her,” said Serina, steel in her voice. “I will stop the niece of Stron, this Danika, the last of her foul line. I will drain her of blood, and I will recover my heart. Your plan will fail.” She dropped Taios’s head, wiping her hands on her gown as she rose.

  “Send me back,” Taios whispered. “You promised.”

  Serina faced Galas now. “Do you still wish power and wealth, Yarl Galas Gilt-Mane?”

  “I… yes. Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “You will take me to Daenipor. Bring all your warriors. We will have need of the drake-ship. I will need a hold, away from the sunlight.”

  “Please,” moaned Taios. “Release me. Send me back.”

  Serina stepped away from Taios’s still-moving corpse, ignoring it. As she did, the crabs returned, rushing over it in a wave. Taios’s screams continued until the crabs filled his mouth.

  Galas’s head spun as he followed Serina. His gaze drifted once more to the walls of Welmen Town. The Kur’teshi mercenaries were ready for a battle Galas couldn’t possibly win, even with the Greywynne Islanders. In the east, a sliver of red light presaged the coming dawn.

  “My queen,” he said as he hurried after her. “I… I can’t just sail away. The Kur’teshi mercenaries, they’ll take my people.”

  She stopped before the mass grave containing the corpses of the mercenaries. She glanced over her shoulder at Galas, who looked away quickly.

  “Kneel,” she said. “Swear allegiance to me, and begin to atone for the treachery of your clan. Swear to serve me, and I shall save your people, although they do not deserve it.”

  No fool, Galas fell to his knees and lowered his forehead until it touched the soft grass. “I… I swear it. I swear to serve only you, my queen.”

  Serina began to chant again, to sway in place before the mass grave, her arms extended to the side, once again speaking in that obscene language that felt as if it were staining Galas’s very soul. High above, the clouds parted, revealing a moon the color of blood.

  A hand erupted out of the grave, grasping and clawing.

  Chapter 22

  Fioni

  Fioni stood with her hand on the tiller, watching while Vory had the crew lower and secure Fen Wolf’s sail. Ahead lay their destination—Corcas Island. They had made good time, with a fine following wind speeding them along, but it had still taken two days to reach the foreign shore. The island stood separate from the Fenyir chain and always had. Corcas Island was sovereign to the Empire of Hishtar, and its inhabitants were definitely Hishtari, not Fenyir. Not friendly to us.

  But not necessarily a threat either.

  The only settlement on Corcas Island was Cos Town. Little more than a fishing village with a single wooden pier, the town was more than it seemed. Built against the island’s northeastern shoreline, directly across the water from the mainland and its magnificent walled city, Cos Town was well known to the Fenyir raiders by its other, unofficial, name—Smugglers’ Island.

  The Hishtari were hypocrites: outwardly cursing the Fenyir as pirates, they were also more than happy to buy back their stolen merchandise, fueling a remarkable black-market economy. It worked like this: Fenyir raiders, like Fioni, preyed upon both the empire’s and the kingdom’s shipping, stealing from fat, slow merchant vessels on the trade route along the Fenyir Island chain. In turn, the Fenyir would bring back much of the stolen goods to Cos Town, where they would then sell it to the city’s thriving thieves’ guild—the Bent Men. The Bent Men saw to the further distribution of the illicit cargo, paying a fraction of the cargo’s true worth to the Fenyir, who were more than happy to sell off what they didn’t need and purchase more of what they did, like fine steel weapons and armor.

  Fioni had sailed into Cos Town many times in the past, although this time was different. This time she intended to enter the city itself, something no Fenyir had done in generations. Since Serl Raven-Eye.

  At the sound of cursing, she turned and saw Vory chastising Owen for rowing out of stroke with the others. Vory had taken it upon himself to teach the young man how to row and perform other shipboard duties. Owen, for his part, likely had no idea Vory had decided they were friends. She smiled, watching the two large men. They were both natural fighters, born to violence, but Vory’s amity went beyond such crass things as an
affinity for bloodletting. Although Vory would deny it to the depths of the ocean, he possessed a rare combination of simple honesty, selfless courage, and unbreakable loyalty that she suspected he also recognized in Owen. And like Vory, Owen wore his emotions outwardly for all to see. He possessed no subterfuge, no guile. Men like that, she knew, rarely advanced far in life. They usually ran afoul of predators…like Galas Gilt-Mane, like… her.

  Would I bed him again?

  She watched him row, admiring the powerful play of muscles in his shoulders and back. He had been a fine lover, better by far than most, but there was more to a partner than sweaty thrusting—she valued a keen mind over all things. He wasn’t stupid, she knew. In fact, despite what some of the crew thought, he was very clever. But he can’t control his temper. I could have killed him the other day when he challenged me. He’s too impulsive. Her gaze fell upon Lady Danika, sitting against the hull and watching the sparkling waters of the harbor in Cos Town. And he follows that northern woman around like an overprotective mastiff. I’m not sure I like that.

  No, she decided, Owen Toscovar is not the man for me.

  She turned her attention back to the approaching shoreline of Cos Town.

  #

  Fen Wolf’s hull scraped along the barnacle-covered pier in Cos Town. As always, their arrival had drawn a small crowd. A knot of men awaited them, including the one man Fioni wanted to see—Erland the Otter, the Master of Smuggler’s Island and a key player within the shadowy world of the Bent Men. Nothing changed hands in Cos Town without Erland’s knowledge. She was counting on his connections in the city to facilitate her plans—or, rather, Lady Danika’s plans. If anyone could arrange a meeting between the noblewoman and the Moon Lord, it was Erland.

  She put a fake smile on her lips as she jumped down onto the dock. Kora, always guarding Fioni’s back, was behind her in a moment. Erland waited at the end of the pier, his hands resting atop his ample belly. Middle-aged, with a thick, sunken face, huge nose, and long mane of wild gray hair that seemed to sprout in all directions, Erland did not appear particularly dangerous, but appearances were deceiving. No one rose through the ranks of the Bent Men to become the Master of Smugglers’ Island without having buried most of his enemies.

  He smiled when he saw Fioni, his thick gray eyebrows seemingly coming together to form one huge one. “Greetings, Red Wolf,” he called out amicably in the trade tongue, with barely a trace of an accent. “It’s been too long since last you brought us goods to barter.”

  “I greet you, Erland, Master of Cos Town.”

  She hugged him, allowing him to kiss her on both cheeks, but always watching the men behind him. They weren’t friends, merely business acquaintances.

  He noted the presence of Kora behind her. “And greetings to you as well, Kora Far-Sails. You and your crew are most welcome to Cos Town, Fioni. How is your father?” As he spoke, Erland’s gaze drifted over Fen Wolf.

  “No doubt, Erland,” said Fioni, “you’re wondering why we’re not offloading plunder.”

  “It’s always a pleasure to see you, Fioni, but we are… business minded.”

  His eyes narrowed as Lady Danika and Owen climbed down from Fen Wolf. They were dressed the same as her crew, in leather breeches and linen shirts, with traveling cloaks, but they were still clearly out of place.

  “I have a somewhat different purpose in visiting you this day, Master Erland,” Fioni said. “Is there somewhere more private we could have a discussion?”

  Erland inclined his head. “Yes, of course. Please follow me. Bring as many warriors as you feel necessary.” He glanced at the two northerners. “Bring your… guests as well.”

  #

  Erland led them to his home, an impressive wooden structure built atop a nearby hill circled by a high stone wall. She had brought Vory and Kora with her, as well as Lady Danika and Owen, forgoing Erland’s offer to bring more warriors. Erland made a considerable profit dealing with Fioni and other raiders; she very much doubted he’d risk that by attacking her. Besides, she wasn’t that easy to kill.

  They reclined now on plush pillows in his garden, sipping spice-laden tea from small cups. Butterflies flitted about the exotic plants and flowers. Servants rushed about, placing and removing small wooden bowls filled with Hishtari delicacies like rum-soaked Tandori worms, brought all the way from the Wailing Desert, several weeks’ ride to the east of the mainland.

  She sipped her tea, watching a clearly uncomfortable Owen. The man stared at everything with suspicion, as if he expected Erland to poison them. Lady Danika, however, was much more at ease—the picture of relaxed leisure. When Fioni had introduced her earlier, Erland had not appeared shocked at all to welcome a kingdom noblewoman from a famous family into his home, nor had he questioned her presence.

  They made small talk for some time, discussing the weather, the sea conditions, the rising cost of otter skin. Finally, Erland placed his teacup down, leaned back on a pile of cushions, and met Fioni’s eyes. “So, Red Wolf, is there business we can do with one another?”

  She considered him for some moments, her gaze flicking toward the kingdom noblewoman. “I know you’re a man with connections in the city, Erland.”

  He watched her, his face devoid of emotion. “Perhaps some,” he admitted. “But what sort of connections, I wonder?”

  “The sort that will lead to a meeting.”

  Erland rubbed his chin. “What kind of meeting?”

  “The kind that takes place within the Rose Palace, with the Moon Lord himself.”

  Erland watched her for long moments and then shook his head. “Fioni, you know our laws. You Fenyir are forbidden to enter—”

  “The appointment, Master Erland,” interrupted Lady Danika, “is for me. I need to speak to Kory’ander Dey on a matter of some trade importance—for both the kingdom and the empire.”

  He watched her with hooded eyes. “I see… forgive me, my lady, but to what end?”

  “That,” interrupted Fioni, “is between Lady Danika, Kory’ander Dey, and me.”

  “You?” scoffed Erland. “Fioni, the entire city fears the Red Wolf. There’s a most-impressive bounty on your head.”

  “You can make the arrangements, Erland. I have faith in you.”

  Erland snorted. “The Moon Lord governs one of the main trading ports in the empire. He is always busy. You give me too much credit.”

  “It’s worth his while—and yours.”

  Danika leaned forward, her palm raised to forestall Fioni. “This city is the stepping-off point for trade between my kingdom and your empire. My family owns the only deep-water harbor between here and Port Ollechta. I can’t imagine he would refuse a meeting with a Dain.”

  “Indeed,” said Erland, picking up his tea again and sipping it. “You may be correct, my lady, but it’s also unusual for your kingdom to send a… forgive me, a woman to conduct important business.”

  “Not at all, Master Erland. The fact that my family has sent me—the eldest Dain—only underscores the importance of this meeting.”

  Erland’s eyes flitted from Lady Danika’s to Fioni’s as he considered the request. Finally, he placed his hands across his chest and inclined his chin. “I can make no promises, but I will see what I can do.”

  #

  On their way back to Fen Wolf, Fioni could feel Kora’s unhappiness wafting off her in waves. When the others were out of earshot, she whispered angrily at Fioni, “What game are you playing?”

  “I’m trying to honor my father’s wishes.”

  “No, you’re trying to get within the Rose Palace yourself, and there’s only one reason why you would want to do that—so you can examine its defenses. There’s no need for you—the famous Red Wolf—to go anywhere near that foul place. Let the northern woman go instead. Let her barter for the shield. The Hishtari are not to be trusted.”

  “You think I don’t know that? These effeminate ancestor-worshippers murdered my great-grandfather and stole an heirloom of our clan from us�
�the shield of our greatest hero. Now I’m told that not only must I buy it back, but I must also use the very hoard my father amassed over his lifetime to do so? It’s too much, Kora. It’s too much.”

  Kora reached over and placed an arm around Fioni’s neck and rested her head against the other woman’s. “I love you like a sister, Fioni, but you’re being an idiot. The only reason we sailed here was to purchase the shield and use the map to find the Blood Queen’s heart. Neither your father nor your grandfather—both fine yarls—could take the Rose Palace. What is it you think you can do with seventy warriors?”

  “Nothing,” said Fioni bitterly. “I understand that. I’m not stupid. Even were I to find a glaring hole in the palace’s defenses, I know I don’t have the strength to exploit it.”

  “Then why take such a risk?”

  “Because someday, I’m going to return. I’ll make them pay for what they’ve done—but I’ll never get another opportunity to see its defenses up close again.”

  “These people have no love for you, Fioni.”

  “We will have the safe passage of their Moon Lord, this Kory’ander Dey.”

  “Serl had safe passage as well.”

  “That was a lifetime ago, with a different Moon Lord.”

  Kora sighed heavily. “Fine, if you insist on sailing this course, then I will come with you.”

  “You will do no such thing. Vory is coming. And Sir Owen can protect Lady Danika. You, my friend, will remain here in Cos Town with Fen Wolf. You will safeguard my ship, my crew—and most importantly—my father’s silver. I don’t particularly trust Erland the Otter.”

  An uncomfortable silence stretched between the two women, and Fioni could tell Kora was unhappy. She has no choice. This is my decision.

  “Fine,” Kora finally said. “I’ll stay with the ship. But I still think you’re making a mistake.”

  On the trail ahead, they saw the harbor and the pier with Fen Wolf tied to it. Armed crew members stood guard on the pier, with their new Kur’teshi crossbows.

  Fioni stopped in place. She gripped Kora’s arm and held her, forcing her to turn and face her. “I’ll need your oath. If there’s even a hint of deception among the Hishtari, you’ll take Fen Wolf to sea immediately.”