And then Lady Danika was before him, holding her hands out to the guards.
They hesitated, their eyes behind the animal masks showing both fear and uncertainty. Yuri was screaming at them in Hishtari. Lady Danika turned to Owen, her face scarlet. “Damn it, Owen. You will obey me and stand down!”
He hesitated, his heart lurching into his throat as he took in the scene around him—the frightened guards, the anguished howls of pain from the men Owen had hurt, the astonishment on the faces of the onlookers in the growing crowd. Fioni was there as well, yelling at Vory. This was just like the day he had broken Orin’s leg, he realized in mounting anguish. He had done it again!
His hands fell to his side, and he stared at the ground.
Lady Danika turned to the palace official. “I’m so sorry. This is inexcusable.”
Yuri stood before Lady Danika, shaking his head in disbelief. A crowd stood about, pushing and yelling excitedly, and the soldiers began to force them back with their pole-arms.
“I’m sorry, my lady,” said Yuri. “I do not have the authority to forgive an attack upon the palace guards. I must arrest your servant.”
“What is the penalty for assaulting a guard?” Lady Danika asked.
“Death, my lady.”
Chapter 25
Gali
Gali slipped through the crowded streets of Docktown to the alley where Igrimor was waiting for her. Her heart still pounded wildly, and a cold sweat drenched her skin. Never before had she ever been caught by the guards. Never before had she come so close to disfigurement. It still seemed surreal, like a nightmare. As she ducked into the alley, her fingers trailed over her nose, as if to make sure it was still there.
Am I losing my touch?
She should have been watching the large blond man. If she had known he suspected her, she’d have veered away, perhaps to circle around and try again at a later point. In truth, though, with all those guards present, she should have refused to try at all—although…if she had refused, Igrimor would likely have done worse than just disfigure her.
Halfway down the deserted alley, a large bald man stepped out from behind a stack of wooden crates, his left ear a mass of disfigured scar tissue, a cruel smirk on his ugly features. She stumbled to a halt, forcing herself to be calm.
Kale. Igrimor’s muscle.
“You’re late,” Kale said, moving so close, his thick chest was almost touching hers. “He doesn’t like it when his little mice are late. I might have to punish you. Would you like that?”
She looked away, staring past him at the garbage-strewn alleyway. “Please. Let me by.”
Kale leaned in closer, put his nose up against Gali’s neck, and sniffed her, like a dog—or a wolf. He ran his fingers down the front of her robe, gently brushing her breast, watching her with a vacant smile. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply and forcing herself to be still. He’s trying to scare me.
“When did you become such a tasty little mouse? Are you still intact in your little cunny? Would you like a real man to break you in?” His breathing quickened, and a feral gleam came into his eyes. “If I did fuck you, you’d never go back to that little turd you call a boyfriend.”
“Please, Kale. He’s waiting for me,” she whispered.
This close, Kale smelled worse than a goat’s ass. The urge to turn and run was overpowering, but that was what he wanted her to do. Then he could chase her. In addition to his other duties, Kale was Igrimor’s huntsman. When a girl ran, Kale always went after them; Kale always caught them. Inevitably, he’d bring back what was left of her to show the others what might happen to them as well. They said he could smell a girl’s fear, follow that scent unerringly to his prey. Gali didn’t know if that was true, but she knew he liked hurting women. Everyone knew that.
He reached behind her and gripped one of her buttocks, kneading it roughly. “Will you tell Bohan on me?”
“Please, don’t.”
She shuddered when he licked the side of her neck, which only seemed to goad him on. “I hope you do tell Bohan. I’ll plow you both. Him first, right in his cherry arse-hole, and then you. So go on, little mouse, tell on me.”
“Please.”
“Enough, Kale,” an amused voice called out from the back of the alley. “I have things to do this day.”
Igrimor. She never thought she’d be relieved to hear his voice.
“Well, then,” said Kale, moving aside. “Stop making the Master of Docktown wait, little mouse.”
She brushed past him, forcing herself to move slowly.
One day soon, scaring me won’t be enough for him. What then?
She knew what. She just didn’t want to admit it.
Kale’s perversions were well known among the whores that worked for Igrimor. Only Igrimor kept Kale in line, but how much longer could that last? No matter how she dressed, how she tried to hide her body, men were starting to pay more attention to her, which only made it harder to pick their pockets. That must have been what happened earlier with the blond man. If she and Bohan didn’t find a new master within the Bent Men soon, Igrimor would turn her into another of his whores.
I’ll die before that happens.
Likely at Kale’s filthy hands.
Igrimor sat atop a wooden crate, his long legs spread wide as he whittled away at a hunk of dragon’s stone, creating an impressive facsimile of a griffin. Had he not been a master thief within the Bent Men—as well as an evil, greedy, conscienceless bastard—Igrimor could have earned a living as an artist. He wore fine clothing, as befitted his status as the Master of Docktown, and was tall and well built, with his hair trimmed and eyebrows and sideburns meticulously maintained.
Two of his other bullies lounged nearby. Bowsprit Bale, with her short dark hair and nose cut in half by an old knife scar, was one of the ugliest women Gali knew—and her personality matched her looks. The other man was known simply as “Coops,” a strange, fat little man with a perpetually shiny face, leering piglike eyes, and a tendency to yank down his breeches and masturbate whenever the mood took him, which was often. Coops had gutted the last person who had complained, so now whenever Coops had a go at himself, most pretended not to notice—although he always behaved when Igrimor was present.
No one wanted to be around him when Igrimor wasn’t there.
Igrimor paused in his whittling and met Gali’s eyes. “Well?”
“I… I got caught,” she blurted out. “Almost got cut for it.”
Igrimor shook his head and sighed, pointing his whittling knife at her. “You’re getting too old to be a slip-hand, Gali. I’ve told you this already.”
“I’m still the best in Docktown.”
“You have tits now,” said Bale with a sneer. “Either use them to distract the marks, or start working on your back with your legs spread.”
Coops giggled, and Gali was certain if Igrimor had not been present, he’d have had his fat little hand down his breeches.
Igrimor glanced at Bale and raised a single eyebrow. “Harsh perhaps, but she’s not wrong, Gali. If you can’t do your job, you’ll get a new job. You’d do well as a whore. You’re becoming very pretty.”
“Very pretty,” repeated Coops with a leer.
Gali rushed forward, placed her palm on Igrimor’s knee. “I didn’t fail. Two of them are kingdom folk. One is a noblewoman, short, with long dark-brown hair. The other, a big blond man, looks like a Fenyir but speaks with a kingdom accent. He’s a fighter, though—and smarter than he looks. He was the one what made me.”
Igrimor frowned. “You’re telling me things I can see for myself.”
“The noblewoman is a Dain. Lady Danika Dain.”
Igrimor’s eyes tightened. “A Dain, really?”
“I overheard the palace official discussing her with the guard captain.”
“Did they say why she’s here?”
“Apparently, she’s to see the Moon Lord himself.”
Igrimor pursed his lips and stared at the carving in h
is hand. “That’s interesting. What is that ugly old bastard, Erland, up to, I wonder?”
“There’s more,” said Gali, thankful that she had something with which to placate Igrimor. “The Red Wolf accompanied them.”
“Fioni Ice-Bound? You’re sure?”
“I am. I’ve heard her description before. Besides, the large man with her is Vory Eel-Gifted. A bear of a man like that, I couldn’t miss.”
Igrimor patted Gali’s cheek. “You’ve done well—for the most part. We may let you keep working as a slip-hand for a while longer yet.” He glanced at his aides. “Why are they here, a kingdom noblewoman, a notorious Fenyir raider? This is strange, and strange means profit for someone and loss for someone else.”
Bale bit her upper lip. “The Red Wolf must be trying to spy out shipping schedules.”
“No.” Igrimor shook his head. “She knows there’s a price on her head. She’d never risk leaving Smuggler’s Island just to learn when ships sail with what cargo. Besides, Erland would sell that to her in a moment. No. There’s more going on here.” He scowled at Gali. “Pity you were so clumsy.”
“Not so clumsy that I didn’t pat the Dain woman down first. She’s carrying a big knife, wrapped entirely in fur, hiding it behind her back.”
“A big knife?”
“About the size of my forearm. If I tried again, I could cut it away from her, bring it to you.”
He stared at her for long moments but then shook his head. “No. The chance is gone. Maybe when she leaves the Rose Palace.”
“If she leaves the Rose Palace,” said Bale with a sneer. “Weapons are forbidden in the Moon Lord’s presence.”
Coops giggled, his piggy eyes shining.
Igrimor rubbed his chin with thumb and finger and then frowned at Gali. “If I do get another chance at the woman, it won’t be with you. They know your face now.”
“I can change my appearance,” Gali said breathlessly, leaning forward and squeezing Igrimor’s knee, moistening her lips. “There’s still none better than me. You know that.”
“Maybe. We’ll see.” He reached down and gripped Gali’s hand and then squeezed it painfully, causing her to cry out. “But the next time you get caught by a mark, you stupid little cunt, I’ll give you to Kale to play with. Do you understand?”
She bobbed her head vigorously. “I do…I promise.”
He shoved her away. “Get the fuck out of here.”
Gali scurried away, chased by the laughter of Bale and Coops, leered at by Kale.
Bohan and I need to make our move now. Even another month will be too late.
Chapter 26
Owen
The guards led them through the massive city gates into Daenipor. Here, unlike Docktown with its foreign sailors, they stood out as different. The architecture was unique, bizarre even, with red tiles on the roofs, and many terraced gardens built above street level. However, as unusual as the walled city was, it still reminded Owen of Port Ollechta, with its tightly packed stone buildings and cobblestone streets filled with throngs of brightly dressed Hishtari citizens, all staring suspiciously at the foreigners escorted by the guards. The guard commander, his face pale, held his broken wrist against his chest, casting hostile looks at Owen.
Lady Danika slid up next to Owen and spoke in a hushed tone. “You promised you’d obey me. Why did you do that?”
He saw the concern in her eyes, and his cheeks burned. Why did I do that?
“I don’t know, my lady. When I saw what they were going to do to her…I had to do something.”
Her shoulders slumped, and she sighed heavily. “Their laws are cruel, but you had no place interfering. Our mission is far more important than one thief.”
“It’s my fault she was taken. What could I do?”
Fioni moved up beside him. “You could have kept your big dumb hands off their captain, Owen. You may have sentenced yourself to death—and sunk all hopes we had of gaining back my great-grandfather’s shield—just to save some thief girl you’ll never see again.”
Owen’s stomach clenched, and he felt a heaviness pushing down upon his shoulders. “I…I didn’t think. I’m sorry.”
Lady Danika put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it quickly. “There’s still hope.”
“But their laws—”
“Are for their own people, Owen, not foreigners with silver to spend. But let me do the talking. I might be able to smooth this over yet.”
“Aye.” He bobbed his head. “I’m sorry, my lady. I’ve failed you.”
“Not yet you haven’t,” she said with just a trace of a smile. “But I’d say that was enough violence for one day, yes?”
“Yes, my lady.”
The crowd thinned as they approached the southern wall that ran parallel to the river. A giant stone ramp led up the wall, rising to meet the impressive wooden bridge that spanned the river and connected the city to the Rose Palace. A contingent of the brightly dressed palace guards stood sentinel before the ramp, all carrying the same massive pole-arms as the soldiers that escorted them. As they approached, Owen saw Fioni glancing at them out of the corner of her eye. In her hand, held against her leg, she fingered a loop of twine holding a series of wooden beads. As they passed the guards, she slid one of the beads along the twine to its end. He averted his eyes quickly as understanding suddenly gripped him. Fioni was counting guards.
She’s up to something.
Yuri and the injured captain led them onto the bridge, giving them their first close-up view of the Rose Palace. Built like a fortress, the palace boasted high walls with at least a dozen tall round towers. The bridge, wide enough for ten men to walk abreast, had a drop of at least a hundred feet to the calm estuary below. At the opposite end of the bridge, a drawbridge led inside the palace gates. To even approach the palace gates, an invading force would first need to fight their way into and through the city—its narrow, twisting streets ideal for ambushes. Then, attackers would need to take the drawbridge before the defenders raised it. You’d need an army to first take the city and then besiege the palace, and the palace could likely hold out for months. It was no wonder that two generations of Waveborn had been unable to raid the palace.
Crossing the bridge, he scanned the sandstone cliffs of the cape upon which the palace had been built. The cliff face ran straight into the waters of the estuary below, almost an extension of the palace walls.
“Owen, what are you doing?” Lady Danika asked.
He snapped his gaze away from the cliff face, noting that the guard captain was now watching him suspiciously. He smiled wanly at Lady Danika. “Just thinking it’s a long way to fall.”
Her brown eyes narrowed. “Give them no cause to be suspicious, Owen.”
“Yes, my lady.”
They entered the Rose Palace.
#
The throne room of Daenipor’s Moon Lord was by far the most opulent and breath-taking chamber Owen had ever seen. The floor, formed from individual marble slabs of varying colors and sizes, was painstakingly fit together, like a puzzle, forming an intricate seven-pointed star in its center. A small grouping of servants and officials filled the chamber, as well as a dozen of the palace guards. At the rear of the chamber, steps of alternating black and white marble led to a stone dais set before massive stone arches through which the city could be seen. An elaborately carved stone throne sat atop the dais, bathed in sunshine from the open arches behind it. An attractive young man dressed in voluminous gold-and-blue robes with an emerald-studded coronet around his forehead sat upon the throne—Kory’ander Dey, the Moon Lord of Daenipor.
The man who would decide if Owen lived or died.
Kory’ander Dey’s long dark hair flowed behind his back, and his beard had been painstakingly trimmed away so that only a perfect triangle of hair remained under his blue-painted lips. His small, dark eyes watched Lady Danika as though she were the only person present. A single servant, a stunningly beautiful, nearly naked, dark-haired woman knelt before
the throne, extending a silver bowl filled with cherries to the young man. Lady Danika stopped at the base of the marble steps and then dropped down on one knee, lowering her head.
Owen quickly followed her lead, but Fioni and Vory remained standing. Master Yuri glanced at Lady Danika and opened his mouth to say something, but she spoke in halting Hishtari before the official could.
Kory’ander Dey’s eyes widened, and a slight smile turned up the corners of his blue lips. When he spoke, it was in the trade tongue, common to the kingdom and empire as well as many other nation-states, such as Lyr and Kur’tesh. “I am impressed, Lady Danika Dain, daughter of Duke Oskaley and niece of the famous conqueror Stron. Your grasp of our language is superb, but shall we speak in a language that all can understand?”
“You do us much honor, great Moon Lord,” Lady Danika answered in trade common.
“Not at all, my Lady of Wolfrey. Please, rise.”
Lady Danika rose, and Owen moved to stand just behind her.
“I thank you for your kind words. My father always admired your empire’s customs and manners.”
Kory’ander Dey glanced to Yuri. “A seat for our guest.”
Yuri hurried off, and a moment later, servants brought a small cushioned stool, placing it before her. She sat, her small hands in her lap.
“We have, with much sorrow, heard the news of your great father’s death,” Kory’ander Dey said. “A sad day for all. Your father was a great hero, defeating the Blood Queen. Were it not for your family, Serina’s evil would no doubt have spread east to our homes.”
“Thank you, my lord. He went quickly, in his sleep, but not before detailing his vision for a greater future for us all. This is why I have come to see you today. Before he died, my father bade my brother and I swear to see his wishes fulfilled.”
The Vampire Queen Saga: Books 1-3: (The Vampire Queen Saga Boxset) Page 44
