Frank-SPrinces

by The Shadowed Princes [lit]

  Finally, Silkie turned to Paolo Nicoletti and embraced him. When the war is ended, we will find each other again, my love."

  She sealed her words with a kiss and tied her scarf around his arm as her token.

  Silkie watched them ride off into the darkness. She doubted that she would ever see Paolo again.

  When she returned to her suite she found Lord Hoon stretched out on her bed waiting for her.

  "Where have you been?"

  "A romantic assignation. At least it was romantic until there was no more blood left in him."

  Hoon laughed. Which one?"

  "Paolo Nicoletti."

  "One of my best officers. Hoon sobered. Silkanna, you must leave my officers alone."

  "I will try. She disrobed and climbed onto the bed beside him, drawing Hoon's face to her breasts. Make love to me, my lord, and comfort me of my loss."

  He pulled away from her. After we have spoken."

  "Have I done something wrong, My Undead Dragon of Damnation?"

  He quirked an eyebrow at her use of the sobriquet she had given him so long ago. Possibly. I have been told that you drank Lady Brawleigh into a faint."

  "She tasted very good."

  "I want you to leave the Brawleighs alone. They are my best hostages."

  "What about Shelley and Ocvran? You gave Ocvran to Zinzi and you were going to give Shelley to Sergei. What about me? Don't I deserve to taste noble blood myself?"

  "Are you jealous of Zinzi?"

  "Not at all. Please answer my question."

  "I never intended to give Shelley to Sergei. It was a ruse to get Ocvran to tell me where his father had gone."

  "And Ocvran?"

  "I needed to make an example to the people here. I had planned to kill him myself. Zinzi wanted him. Our desires dovetailed. Nothing more."

  "How is giving him to Zinzi an example to the people?"

  "It will be when I hang his dead body in the square."

  "I see. Silkie lowered her eyes, trying to accept the fact that she could only save a few at a time. What are you going to do with Darmyk?"

  "Offer Isranon a trade. His son and Merissa for Anksha."

  "So it's true. You lost her."

  "It is true. But once I have her back, I will remind her that she loves me. My demon-eater has always been my greatest weapon. She will be again, once I make this trade."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  FINDINGS

  Mornings . Kynyr had grown to hate them. Qaseem, the primary assistant to the senior healer from Creeya attending him, was a kind mon, and Kynyr tried to hold his tongue with him. Every morning Qaseem came to Kynyr's bedroom and built the fire up before working with his legs.

  Qaseem swabbed Kynyr's arm and poked the syringe into his bicep. Syringes were a new invention out of Creeya; based upon information from an ancient medical text that Kynyr's grandmother, Cahira Sinclair, had translated. First the holadil to keep down infection and then Narcantha to make certain that Kynyr's seizures and pain remained under control. Once that was done, Qaseem helped Kynyr out of his trousers, removed the wrappings on his legs, and used a cloth tape measure to check for signs of atrophy, patiently noting down the numbers.

  The poison, which Kynyr had been fed over a period of weeks, had been an insidious creation. It perfectly mimicked the symptoms of Black Mountain Fever, a disease spread by infected ticks that had an exceptionally high mortality rate. Among the lingering effects were spinal lesions that damaged and often destroyed the nerves; seizures; pain, and chronic exhaustion.

  Kynyr flinched away from Qaseem's touch. Hey, your hands are cold."

  Qaseem stared at him, reached out, and touched Kynyr's calf.

  Kynyr shuffled his legs away again, glaring now. Stop that."

  "You moved them."

  Kynyr's eyes widened. I did."

  Qaseem laid aside his tape measure, and launched into a series of tests to see what more, if anything, Kynyr could do in view of the unexpected miracle.

  He could not lift his legs, but he could draw them sideways. When Qaseem raised Kynyr's legs off the bed, he could hold them trembling in the air for nearly half a minute. It was so little, and yet it filled Kynyr with jubilation.

  "Now I wish to try something else. Are you game, Master Kynyr?"

  "Yes. Hope flared within Kynyr, lending excitement to his voice.

  Qaseem searched around for the largest bathtub in the mansion. He had it filled with water as hot as Kynyr could comfortably bear and then placed him in it.

  "First relax and let your legs float."

  Kynyr watched his legs rise in the water, trapped again between hope and fear.

  "Now try to move them."

  Kynyr's eyes widened and he gasped. I can move them. I can move them in all directions."

  "I will prescribe exercises and two long hot baths a day. You will walk again. How well, I cannot say. But you will walk."

  A beatific smile came to Kynyr's face. Thank you, Stone. The only miracles are those we make ourselves. I'll never forget that.

  * * * *

  Stone leaned against a wall, watching Pandeena Moonbow and Toniqua Nightsbane examining the three bodies on the viewing dais. Toniqua was attractive in a small, dark way; however, Pandeena was genuinely beautiful, blonde and fair skinned, high firm breasts and feminine hips. Pretty bitches made him uneasy, and beautiful ones drove him to the edge of paranoia.

  Toniqua released Claw's dead wrist and shook her head. The heart attack was genuine, but there's an odd aftertaste to it."

  Pandeena lowered Aisha's wrist back into the coffin. She was raped."

  Stone's eyes narrowed as he pushed away from the wall and stalked to the coffins. Aisha had always been kind to him. The thought that she had been raped the day she died kindled a righteous anger in him. Semen residue?"

  Pandeena shook her head. Psychic scarring. Whoever did it cleaned her female parts out afterward. It happened minutes before she died."

  Rage started its familiar build up in Stone. He forced a deep breath down his lungs to control it. If the rage reached too high a level, Stone would change before he could stop himself. He did not wish for them to see his other form; to know that although his father had been lycan, Stone was not. His eyes lowered and he found himself staring at Fianait's corpse. She had gotten old, but in his memories she would always be young and beautiful.

  "Sheradyn told me they had to break her fingers to get the letter opener out."

  "They should not have moved her before I saw her, Toniqua grumbled, stalking angrily around to Fianait's coffin. Now it's been five days. The embalming chemicals make my task harder. If they had sent for me or Pandeena ... or even Cahira ... we could have laid a preserving spell that would not have disturbed the evidence."

  "They didn't want any of you Reading the fresh corpses. Stone rested his hands on his knife belt. According to Sheradyn, Claw left with the suicide note. I've ransacked his chambers and his study. But I haven't found it."

  "What about Fianait's suite? Pandeena moved close to Stone.

  He tensed. Pandeena stoked both the fires of his rage and his manhood, provoking an unwelcome tightening in his loins with her nearness. Stone stepped to the other side of the coffin. I had it secured. If anything was altered, it happened before I got here."

  "I want to have a look at it, said Toniqua.

  "You may. I admit I was surprised to find you here, Toniqua. It's been a long time."

  "Yes, it has. But you know what they say about us. We wander not because we wish to, but because we outlive our homes. Mine has been gone to dust for two hundred years. At least you still have yours, Stone."

  Pandeena looked at him in stunned surprise. Yuwenghau?"

  Stone favored her with an arrogant smile. I am astonished that you failed to discern that earlier, Pandeena. After all, I'm long lived."

  "It could have been sylvan blood."

  "Isn't that what they say about you? Stone's words dripped sarcasm gilded with hauteur. Pand
eena Moonbow, the only lycan battlemage ever born, long-lived. Named for the Second Mother. Real name or assumed name? No one knows."

  Toniqua snickered.

  Stone glanced from Toniqua to Pandeena. Realization struck him like the blow of a mace in the side of his head. What in the unholy hells are you doing here?"

  "Playing it by the book. I don't know about you, but I don't wish to see my descendants turned into a bunch of bickering humans; lost from the sanctity of the customs and laws my mother gave them."

  "We play by a different set of rules, Second Mother. My grandfather is Hadjys the Dark Judge and I have seen his nine hells."

  "Harm my people, Stone, and I will destroy you."

  "You'll try. Stone swaggered over to her, dragged Pandeena into his arms, and kissed her thoroughly.

  She struggled for a moment, but her great strength was not enough to free herself.

  Stone released her when he finished his kiss and she moved away from him, trembling. He laughed at her with a naughty boy smile that could have melted steel. I've always wanted to do that to one of the Mothers. Now I have."

  "If you think I'm going to come crawling into your bed, you have another think coming."

  "I could say the same for you. However I have far more self-control than you give me credit for."

  "I give you no credit at all."

  Sheradyn Kelly charged into the room, smacking the tip of his gold headed cane on the floor in a rhythm of irritation. He glared ferociously at Toniqua. It was a suicide. Plain and simple. Stoneriver had no business sending for you. As it is, I had to sedate Merissa. You're just going to make matters worse."

  "Shut up, old fool. Stone snarled. My sister was murdered. Anyone who knew her well would know it."

  Sheradyn straightened with a sniff of disapproval.

  Toniqua drew a chair up to the coffin and sat down. She stroked Fianait's cold flesh and extended her gifts through the corpse. I'm sensing odd echoes that I can't explain. There is a lingering taste of terror."

  "Of course, she was terrified. Sheradyn jabbed a finger at Stone. He was returning. I read the note. Sheradyn adjusted his top coat and pulled at his cravat. She killed herself because she was afraid of you, Stone."

  "Stone would never have touched her. Fianait knew that. Pandeena's tone filled with irritation and impatience.

  "Did she tell you that?"

  "I told her the story. Stone's voice took on a severe tone. He had known that all the old wounds would reopen: the truths had been liberally gilded with lies and gossip at every opportunity in his long absence. Everywhere he turned they were being thrown in his face.

  "And you believe him? Sheradyn demanded indignantly.

  Pandeena gave Stone a wicked smile. Yes, I do."

  Toniqua pushed her chair back. I want to take tissues samples. I also want to see the blade and where she died. I hope you haven't cleaned the room up."

  "That's out of the question! Absolutely out of the question. Sheradyn sputtered.

  "You're no longer dealing with Aisha or an ailing chieftain. They're dead. Pandeena propped her hands on her hips and took a threatening stance. It may well be that you're about to find yourself on the wrong end of a rope for your mistakes."

  Stone lifted an eyebrow at that. Rumors of Sheradyn's incompetence as a healer was rife and some were accusing him of outright carelessness as well as darker matters. She's right, Sheradyn. Ossian is already considering whether you have been making simple errors or acting in complicity with the villains in this situation."

  Sheradyn went pale and stammering. I-I have done nothingdone nothing wrong. Nothing whatsoever."

  "That remains to be seen."

  Stone showed them upstairs to Fianait's room with Sheradyn trailing them. They passed a few nervous guardsmyn in the chocolate and claret livery of Red Wolf and many myn in the diverse colors of the various thanes as well as Creeyan. Two Creeyans stood guard at the door to Fianait's apartments. They came to attention when Stone arrived.

  "At ease. The two myn relaxed.

  Stone indicated that Pandeena and Toniqua should precede him and then he noticed Sheradyn. Get out of my sight, he growled at the healer.

  Sheradyn winced and fled.

  Down the corridor, in the shadows of a vestibule, Malthus Estrobian watched Sheradyn's retreat, and then faded out of sight into the passageway linking the family section of the manor with the barracks wing.

  Pandeena watched Sheradyn's retreating back and turned to Toniqua as soon as he was gone. What do you think?"

  "I believe she was murdered. However, I don't think I can prove it. Toniqua ran her hands through her hair with a sigh of frustration. I wish they had sent for me before they moved her body."

  Pandeena nodded. We were deliberately excluded."

  "No doubt. Toniqua's eyes narrowed as her gaze swept the parlor. Where was she found?"

  Stone walked to the center of the room and turned about; seeing it again after all those years tugged at his heart. She had still loved pink and mauve. At the desk. According to Merissa, Fianait was slumped over with her head on it."

  Toniqua walked to the desk and saw the letter opener laying there with blood and gray bits of dried flesh on it. That's the weapon?"

  Stone nodded, closing his eyes briefly. Fianait had always been so fragile, both physically and emotionally. The thought of Belgair shoving the letter opener into her while Malthus held herhis imagination obsessed upon itkilling her as justification for the attempted coup; the image made his insides clench.

  Picking the letter opener up with two fingers, Toniqua examined it. If she were going to kill herself, why didn't she use something sharper?"

  "Fianait was always nervous around sharp objects. She fell with a knife in the kitchen when she was fourteen and nearly severed her shoulder. Her scissors had to be blunted on the ends before she would use them."

  "That doesn't answer my question, Stone. Most females choose poison or an overdose of Pollendine. Or Fire Poppy. So why use a blunt letter opener? She had to have been extremely determined to get that all the way into her heart. It would have taken a lot of pressure."

  Stone could not completely hide his distress at the thought of what had happened to his sister. I loved you, Fianait . Ossian thinks it took two people to do it. One to hold her still while the other shoved the blade in. There is no sign of bruising except on her hands. Malthus and Belgair, with Belgair as the instigator because he had the most to gain by it. The regency. And of course, his father had issues with both Fianait and myself."

  Pandeena's expression turned ugly. I'm more inclined to suspect Malthus as the instigator."

  "Why?"

  "Myn have been known to do ruthless things to ensure their children inherited."

  "He would not have gained anything by it. The laws restrict humans from gaining in such a situation."

  "You're wrong, Stone. The Butchering Serpent is in Wolffgard. Pandeena's tone turned cautious, as if testing him with the information.

  "I have read the reports, Stone admitted, yet then gave a shake of his head. Ossian needs something more than vague rumors to act upon."

  Toniqua set the letter opener aside and pointed to a line of dried bloodstains on the desk. Was there blood on her hands? It looks like she spurted when her heart was pierced."

  "The one who would have known would be Aisha. The nibari here insist that Aisha was the one who washed Fianait's body."

  "And she's conveniently dead. Pandeena snarled wordlessly for several moments.

  "There should have been some on her handsor the hands of the one who killed her. Toniqua straightened the desk chair, stood behind it, and put her hands together in front of her, drawing them toward her in a simulation of the blade going in.

  "There still would have needed to be two myn."

  "Or one sa'necari."

  Stone nodded. Or a sa'necari."

  "Thank you. If you'll just keep everyone out of the Great Hall until we finish, Pandeena and I wi
ll arrange Fianait's body back as we found it. You don't need to delay the funeral. You can bury her tomorrow as you planned to."

  "Custom decrees a public funeral for my brother after two phases of the moon have passed so his people can view his remains. However, I would prefer to see my sister and Aisha laid to their rest in a small private ceremony. Just the immediate family and close friends. My sister was a private soul ... easily overwhelmed."

  "I understand and have no problems with it. I will see you tomorrow at noon for their funeral."

  "Then, if you will excuse me, I will leave you to it. Stone gave them a polite bow and left.

  * * * *

  Until the arrival of Stoneriver and his Creeyan forces, Malthus had been conspicuous among the lycans living in the manor. Like most Waejontori males, his waist length black hair would easily grow to his ankles if he did not keep it trimmed. His dark skin contrasted sharply against that of the fair-skinned lycans. He had more facial hair than the average sa'necari-born and carried a straight razor in his pocket to keep it fastidiously trimmed into an oak leaf beard and a pencil thin mustache with long drooping edges. Malthus used the razor to cut throats as well as shave.

  His people had originated as a small religious cult that practiced necromancy. Only one hellgod escaped when the Nine Elder Gods of Light rounded up her brethren and imprisoned them behind the Katal Escarpment; and she tutored them in the rites of Mortgiefan. That ritual of rape and death allowed them assume all the powers and appetites of the undead while still living myn. Over the generations, their genes had altered and their children began to be born sa'necari, rather than made such by the rites. They still practiced mortgiefan to enhance their powers.

  Malthus took a roundabout path through the manor. He had come to know the place well over the months that he had lived there. Fear of discovery now dogged the sa'necari bounty hunter's heels at every moment. He had removed everything that might be incriminating from his study and hidden it. Lord Hoon had hired him to murder the Redhand family and he had done so.

  He slipped down the servants staircase, reached the second floor, and entered a bedroom there. The rooms were small. The servants did not get suites with an antechamber. A double bed occupied the far right hand corner. A sturdy cradle sat between the bed and a tall chest of drawers. A smaller bureau and a dressing table stood crowded together on the left hand. Braided rugs covered the floor. Near the door sat a small square table with four bare wooden chairs. All cozy in a worn way.