Frank-SPrinces

by The Shadowed Princes [lit]

  Like most of the lycan aristocracy, the Redhands had politely referred to their nibari as servants when in fact they were slaves. Nibari were genetically altered humans, bred for centuries for docility. They were as tame as mice and as harmless as deer; so obedient that they went to their deaths without resistance when ordered to do so by their masters.

  Isbeth sat in a chair by the hearth, suckling her infant. When she saw Malthus enter, a flush of alarm spread over her face. Malthus savored her fear. It stoked his necromantic appetites. He had not had a rite in weeks, and he hungered to feel a mon die beneath him at the moment of sexual climax. Malthus would have had matters right where he wanted them if Belgair had not been handed a devastating defeat by Todd Sinclair. In order to kill Kynyr, he would have to first kill Todd. He would have to talk to Clennan. The thane might prove an ally since it meant destroying his son's killer. He needed new cat's paws, since Todd and Kynyr managed to dispose of all of his except Isbeth.

  He had gotten into Isbeth's mind with layers of coercions that forced her to do things that ran against her instincts. Isbeth was the only hold card Malthus had left in the manor and he would need to play her again soon. She had poisoned Kynyr, and betrayed to their deaths the small band of guardsmyn that had supported the bastard prince.

  The nibari quarters were the one place that no one would ever search. In myn's minds, their innocence was a given. Malthus opened the drawer of her dresser and took out a long chain of small globes that appeared to be simple baubles of various colors, which he carried to the table. He tapped the green one with a word of command and the surface was suddenly covered in crates, boxes, and books.

  He located two tiny vials of the poison he had originally been giving Kynyr that mimicked Black Mountain Fever. He slipped them into his pocket, and hid the globes again. His eyes brushed the small golden ring on his right hand. Lord Hoon had given the ring to him. It allowed him to conceal his true nature and appear to be human. Malthus had recently learned that the ring had once belonged to Waejonan the Accursed, founder of Waejontor. With it, he could raise and lower the level of arcane power he channeled. According to some ancient texts the ring could counteract the effects of spellcord, which was used to separate a mage from his powers.

  Malthus started walking. He kept to the least used ways, and the hidden servants stairways. Belgair should never have told Finn MacIver that he poisoned Kynyr. But then they had not believed that Finn would be rescued from the dungeons.

  Belgair had been overconfident; certain of victory. Therefore Belgair would not have bothered to conceal his crimes. History was written by the winners. Still, it should not be too obvious.

  Malthus slipped into Belgair's chambers, pulled the top drawer of his dresser open, and left one vial at the back of it. Then he headed for Sheradyn's suite.

  * * * *

  On the day that the coup failed, Belgair had left behind a token force at the manor; mostly the untried newest myn in his ranks and a few that he trusted to keep them in line. Stone had retained them as part of the household guard to mitigate the perception of a foreign takeover by Creeyan units; however, all the key posts were manned by his own forces.

  No more than forty odd myn out of Belgair Doherty's forces had surrendered when the battle went against them at gates to the Maguire Estate, and now cooled their heels locked in the basement storerooms and pantries beneath it. Another twenty wounded were taken into custody by Todd Sinclair's myn and were being treated in the Maguire infirmaries.

  Those who had managed to flee had scattered through Wolffgard and gone to earth wherever they could find sufficient concealment. However, within a few days, some of them had grown brave enoughor resigned enoughto take their chances on fair treatment and given themselves up to Stone's forces. The surrendering myn all had the same plaint: they were simply following orders.

  They all knew that if Todd's forces had really wanted to find them, they could have. Wolffgard was large by lycan standards, but small by those of neighboring Waejontor. Years of comfortable familiarity between the citizens of Wolffgard and the guardsmyn served both sides in good stead. Those guardsmyn who had committed no outrages against the community were allowed to hide in plain sight, with the civilians politely pretending not to notice them. Those who have given the citizenry cause to hate them found themselves on the wrong end of lycan private justice.

  Belgair's surviving officers did not fair as well as his myn. They were rounded up by the town's volunteer militia as suspect in the coup, and turned into Stone who then locked them in the manor's dungeons.

  Lieutenant Lennox Strahan had been one of the lucky ones, and escaped notice from the militia. Although if asked, he would say that he had made his own luck. A week without shaving had concealed much of his face, but it was impossible to conceal his protuberant eyes. He had a face that looked like a fig someone had squashed against a wall. His nose had been broken more than once and the only reason he could still use it was because the healers had placed metal tubes in his nostrils while they healed and then removed them. The end result was that it had flattened out.

  Lennox had moved into Preece Malloy's old longhouse on the grounds of the Sanctuary Refugee Camp. Vika Softpaws, who ran the camp, had hired him; with a few caveats about his good behavior. He had been drinking heavily to mask the fatigue and aching; the way his stomach felt twisted. Lennox had recognized the signs of withdrawal from White Fire. What little sleep he had managed to get had been poor. He had not realized that he had developed a dependency upon it, buying it from Belgair's chastisemon, Damien Kildare, at every opportunity. One of the other guardsmyn who bought from Damien must have stolen it from the chastisemon's rooms after someone with claws tore Damien's face off in the dungeons beneath the manor. If he could figure out which of them that was, then he could get more.

  He sat in a worn chair. The best chair had been given up to Thane Clennan Doherty. The harsh-eyed Thane had brought his own liquor. The two myn who had come with him had the look of lions in their eyes; hungry and ready to pounce. Faerwald Davies sat on the edge of the table with his knee pulled up. Lairgan stood behind Lennox, which made his neck itch with nervousness. No two myn had ever made Lennox that uneasy before.

  "Vertram says you saw my son killed. Clennan sipped his whiskey with a casualness belied by his eyes and the turn of his mouth.

  Lennox nodded, trying not to stare at the twisted, leather-clad claw that was Clennan's crippled left hand. He surrendered ... threw his sword down ... and begged quarter. Todd gutted him and walked off."

  Faerwald and Lairgan shared glances at that, but said nothing.

  "Start at the beginning of the attack upon the estate and tell me everything you actually saw."

  "Yessir. Belgair left a token force at the manor. Counting the bridge watchers, we had nearly four hundred myn with us. To our knowledge, Sinclair had no more than seventy. We expected Todd to put up a token resistance while they got the bastard out the Orchard Gate. So Belgair assigned me fifty myn and we went around to that gate to wait for them. Instead, we found nearly three hundred MacLachlan soldierscavalry, infantry, and archersled by Tobrytan MacFie. They rode us down. My myn were slaughtered. I escaped by crawling through the hedgerow. I killed one of Maguire's guards and stole his uniform. That got me to the pathway leading to the front gate. Sinclair had trapped the forward hedgerows. There were spikes the length of sword blades hidden beneath the snow. There were pit traps along the front path. Just as I got to the front, MacFie hit Belgair's forces in the rear. Trevor Sinclair then emerged from the trees and attacked. They pincered Belgair's soldiers, and cut Belgair off from his own forces. That's when Todd reappeared and killed your son."

  Clennan had listened quietly. Now he tossed Lennox a gold crown, the largest denomination of coinage in Red Wolf, and four months pay in a guardsmon's wages. You now work for me."

  "Yessir. Thanks."

  Clennan rose and stepped outside. Snow had begun to fall. He stared into the white curtain of f
lakes. When you kill Todd ... start by cutting him up good and then open his belly."

  "Count on us, Lord, said Faerwald.

  "They'd better be good. Lennox stood in the doorway of his home with his arms folded. Belgair tried to take Sinclair out before attacking Maguire. We sent five myn against him and he killed them all."

  Clennan gave him a thin smile. They're professionals."

  * * * *

  Kady waddled onto the veranda, feeling awkward and uncomfortable with her belly protruding so far beyond her breasts. Kynyr rolled along ahead of her. Her husband had learned to maneuver the wheel-chair over and around most obstacles.

  A guardsmon had alerted them that a fine carriage had arrived at the front gate and been told to go around and enter through the Orchard Gate. The traps that Todd had ordered built between the front gate and the abatis surrounding the mansion itself were still in place.

  "I wonder who it is. Kady settled onto the sofa, spreading her skirts to either side of her.

  "Thanes probably. Stone says they're all demanding a look at me. Kynyr fought down a wave of bitterness. Todd and Stone are all that's keeping them from having us both hung."

  "Don't say that. Not all of them have sided with Clennan and Vertram."

  "Perhaps."

  Only two of the thanes had come to extend the hand of friendship to Kynyr. Just two out of seventeen, and that rankled Kady more and more as the days passed. Old Sedley Wescot, Thane of Silvershire, had brought Kynyr a gift of two fine warhorses. He had also brought his middle-aged son, Lyncoln, along. Lyncoln was a childless widower with a sense of humor that grated on Kady's nerves. Sedley's reason for bringing Lyncoln became apparent from pointed questions concerning the marital status of Kynyr's three younger sisters. Kynyr had sidestepped the questions, trying to pretend he could not tell that Kady was close to snapping at Sedley over it.

  However, Thane Cedric Hargrave of Whiteford had proven to be a welcome relief to the intrusions of Sedley. He brought Kady lovely quilts and a wealth of baby blankets, which she and Kynyr's Aunt Mary were still oohing and aahing over.

  The carriage pulled up and a footmon climbed down to help three aristocratic bitches out.

  A smile spread across Kady's face when she recognized Kynyr's three older sisters: Phoebe married to Weylen Tully, a goldsmith; Russa, wife of Blayne Albryn, a merchant in Middleborough; and Kathleen, whom they called Leeny, wed to Wallace Callaghan, a farmer.

  Leeny's eyes softened and she bent to hug her brother. I'm so sorry, Brubs. It's unfair."

  "I'm handling it. Kynyr kissed her cheek.

  "Careful she doesn't tip over on you, Brubs. Phoebe chortled. Wallace has seeded her field again."

  Leeny blushed. She had been born with a cleft palate that took her grandmother years of Mending to finally repair properly. Kathleen's trouble with certain letters had led to her becoming Leeny and to Kynyr's family nickname of Brubs.

  "When's it due, Leeny? Kady smiled at her, recalling the night she helped Gillivray deliver Leeny's cub.

  "Close to Sowayn."

  Russa thumped Phoebe's shoulder. At least we spaced ours out. Stair steps is the best way to have them."

  Phoebe ignored her sister and joined Kady on the sofa. I see our obnoxious brother has gotten you all motherly right off the mark. I told Weylen when I married him, that I wanted to get used to the cookies before moving on to the cubs. He was perfectly fine with it. Of course, Weylen never expected to find himself a thane suddenly. He's still getting used to the idea. Now all he talks about in bed is heirs. I keep telling him that he'll get more when I'm damned well ready for them. And not a moment sooner."

  Russa ran her fingers through Kynyr's short locks with a critical eye. What happened to your hair?"

  "He was spending so much time in bed, that it was the only way to keep the mats out, Kady explained.

  "I see. Russa examined the wheel-chair. Is that the brake?"

  Kynyr started to answer and let out a woof as Russa let the brake off, grabbed the handles, and ran him down the veranda at top speed. She shrieked in delight and ran him back to the sofa.

  "Stop that! Kynyr gripped the arms so tightly that his knuckles whitened. You'll dump me in the snow if you're not careful."

  "In the snow? Mischief gleamed in Russa's eyes. Now, there's an idea."

  Kynyr gave Kady a woebegone look. This is why Finn and I call them the Dreaded Horde."

  "I'll give you Dreaded Horde. Russa's sky blue eyes flashed. She seized the wheel-chair again, and ran her brother to edge.

  Kynyr stared down at the big pile of snow that had been swept from the veranda earlier that day. Oh, no. You wouldn't do that to your poor crippled brother ... now would you? He tried his best to sound pathetic, and Russa immediately dumped him into the snow.

  Kady snickered, wiggled her fingers, and levitated him back into the wheel-chair. You had that coming."

  The three sisters stared in surprise and then shared a laugh. Russa wheeled Kynyr back to his place beside the sofa. Aunt Mary said you were a mage like Gram ... but I've never seen her do anything like that."

  "I'm not like Gram. I'm a level seven pan-elementalist."

  Russa let out a long whistle. And what's Gram?"

  "A level one."

  Russa whistled a second time.

  "So the emissaries of the Dreaded Horde have arrived. Todd stepped out onto the veranda.

  Russa made a moue at Kynyr and slapped his cheek with the tips of her fingers. Now you've got Grandfather calling us that. You ought to be ashamed. You're a bad influence on him, Kynyr."

  Then the three sisters enveloped Todd in hugs; kissing his cheeks and fussing over him.

  Todd chuckled, gently freeing himself from their grasp. Come inside. Your Gram has been waiting for you in the kitchen since she saw you arrive from her window."

  Russa grasped the handles on the wheel-chair. Lead on."

  "Oh, no. Kynyr threw a glance of exaggerated alarm over his shoulder at her. You're not pushing, Russa."

  "I'll do it. Todd placed his hands on the wheel-chair and Russa relinquished it with a snicker.

  Kitchen sitting had become a tradition with the Sinclair family long before the birth of Kynyr and his six sisters. Kady had embraced it, since the ovens made it the warmest room in the house. The huge first floor kitchen was perfect for a crowd of chattering bitches, and the dogs tended to join them there.

  "I'll show you around in a bit. Kynyr leaned forward, snatching at a plate of fresh baked cookies as Todd slid the chair into place.

  "How do you manage the stairs? Do we get to carry you? Russa grinned.

  Phoebe thumped her sister. Once in the snow was quite enough."

  "I'll show you."

  Kynyr wheeled to the broad sweep of the staircase in the main living room. A secondary railing had been built beside the balustrade. He put the brake on, grasped the rail and the balustrade, and lifted himself from the chair. The prince went up the stairs with his hands and arms carrying his weight. His family followed with appreciative noises. When he reached the top, another chair waited. Kynyr eased into that one, let off the brake and wheeled triumphantly down the hallway.

  "By the way, Phoebe turned to Kady as they followed their brother, I hope you have room for us here. The husbands are staying on at the manor, but they don't want us there."

  "Why not?"

  Russa shrugged. Safety. All the recent violence has them nervous about us. She slipped her arm through Todd's and leaned against his shoulder. What do you think about that, Grandfather?"

  "Wise move."

  Russa pulled away from him and thumped his shoulder. You think we've forgotten everything you taught us, haven't you?"

  Todd chuckled. Not at all. You're still a bunch of rascals."

  "Well, you're certainly welcome here. Kady gestured at a nibari passing in the hallway. She owned ten, including the wet nurse she had purchased to care for Iollen Newell's motherless daughter. His young wife, Aghavie, had died
in childbirth. Nibari breast milk was richer than lycan, but never seemed to bother the cubs a bit. Ready three more of the suites on the east end."

  The nibari smiled with a small curtsy and ran off to get it done.

  * * * *

  Malthus sat in Clennan's suite, having been fetched there by Faerwald Davies. He chaffed under the constraints of uncertainty. Without Belgair to advise him, the Thanesincluding Clennanwere unknown quantities.

  It was larger and nicer than those in what had been the family wing. It had a central sitting room with a warm hearth, and four bedrooms that linked in the middle with the sitting room.

  Berneen Hamilton, Clennan's sixteen-year-old mistress, had a bedroom that had both a door into the suite and a connecting door to Clennan's bedroom. She was his current fancy, and as was inevitable in their ranks, her belly was already swelling. Her father had run the Weaver's Guild, and become heavily in debt to Clennan. In an attempt to get Clennan to forgive the debtsomething the thane rarely did for any one, he had persuaded one of the thane's housecarles to introduce her to him at court six months ago. Snub-nosed with a piquant attractiveness, Berneen had caught Clennan's eye and lost her virginity to him three days later.

  His bodyguards, Faerwald and Lairgan, had the remaining two bedrooms.

  "So, you're Malthus. Clennan cast a skeptical gaze at him. My son thought highly of you. Impress me."

  "I doubt that I could. Belgair and I were friends. I'm certain that colored his letters to you with praise I did not deserve."

  "Modesty has no place with me. I want to know what you can do. Belgair said you were kandoyarin. I've heard many impressive things about those Ocelayen mercenaries. I want to see you go a round with Faerwald in the salle. If you can hold your own with him, I'll support you. Otherwise, you may find yourself banished when I become regent for your sons."