Frank-SPrinces

by The Shadowed Princes [lit]

  "Can I watch? Berneen joined Clennan on the sofa, snuggling against him.

  Clennan placed his withered arm around her shoulders, the twisted, fingers closed upon her nipple, playing with it. Of course you can."

  Faerwald regarded Malthus with speculative contempt as they walked.

  Word got out the moment they emerged from the suite and they acquired a tail as they headed for the guardsmyns wing of the manor.

  Creeyans were working out in the salle with a few of the remaining lycan guardsmyn, and a scattering of the thanes myn. They eyed the newcomers with interest.

  "All of you move off. Faerwald gestured at them. We're putting on a show."

  The Creeyans glanced at Reist, who had lowered his own practice blade and grinned at Regina. Might as well, better than letting you see Reggie kick my arse."

  "I wasn't. Regina scowled.

  Reist winked at her, rubbing a forefinger across his chin as they passed and turned to his wife. You want to watch, Reggie?"

  "Why not?"

  Everyone settled on the benches, except for Clennan who had a chair brought in, and Reist who stood with his shoulder against the wall and one arm around his wife.

  Malthus chose the broadsword that he normally used for practice from the weapons rack. Faerwald unbuckled his sword belt, handing his saber and knives to Lairgan before selecting a practice saber from the rack. He tested it with a few swipes and moved into the center of the salle.

  "So you were a kandoyarin? Faerwald had a tiny arrogant smile as he spoke. I thought I recognized the move you used to break my hold on your niece."

  "Keep your hands off my niece."

  "I don't harm little girls. Not even with a friendly weapon."

  Faerwald made Malthus work hard: the duelist was as good as Kynyr had been before his crippling. Malthus would never forget the humiliation of losing to Kynyr during a practice session at the refugee camp. He pushed himself to his limit without accessing his sa'necari speed and strength. They danced, parrying and slashing.

  Reist's attention kept moving between the fighters and his wife. Regina focused tightly upon them, her brow furrowed and eyelids angled. He turned his head slightly, just enough to keep Malthus in view and catch the look in Regina's eyes from the corners of his own. They're good, Reggie."

  "Matches are usually over fast, aren't they?"

  "Unless it's a pair of masters fighting."

  "So they're masters?"

  "Evidently."

  Time and again, Malthus blocked Faerwald with hanging parries and attacked with flurries of crosscuts so fast that Reist began to watch more closely. Lycans and a few other arcane races handled heavy swords with the ease of a human with a rapier.

  "And I've seen a few humans that good with the heavier blades, Reist conceded under his breath. Few and far between though."

  Faerwald dodged and pressed. The heavier broadsword could put him down in a single blownearly unstoppable by his saber if Malthus got in a good swing. He had expected the human to give him an easy victory. Now, sweat ran down their faces from effort, and yet neither could touch the other.

  "What do you think? Could you take him? Regina asked Reist.

  "Which one?"

  "Either of them."

  "I would not wish to bet my life on the difference between myself and either of those two."

  Malthus lip curled back in a snarl. His temper rose and months of frustration boiled to the surface at having to pretend to be less than he was. Being beaten by Kynyr had been bad enough. He upped the level of his strength and speed by a fraction, losing a bit of his humanity in the process. His broadsword connected with Faerwald's saber, entangled it from above, and jabbed the blunted point against the lycan's chest.

  Faerwald grimaced and ceased fighting. Oh well, just a practice. Not like I was trying to kill you..."

  Malthus walked off, smirking.

  Reist shook his head, wondering if he had seen what he thought he saw. The human was good. But how could such a slender human be that good with a heavy sword? He frowned, puzzling upon it further. Something did not seem right.

  "Reist? Regina touched his arm. Reist, why are you looking that way?"

  "I don't know. Just something wasn't right."

  * * * *

  Kynyr had escaped from his sisters at the first opportunity and rolled his wheel-chair out onto one of the third floor galleries. Iollen Newell's innovations had made it easier for him to get about. He would park his chair at the foot of the stairs, and then use the special rails that Iollen had installed to get to the next one using his hands to climb instead of his feet. A chair was always parked at the top for him to use.

  He watched the coffin maker arrive with more pine boxes. A few at a time, the bodies of his friends and comrades killed by Belgair's purge were being claimed by their grieving relatives. After his initial rage had passed, Kynyr had requested that Stone allow families to claim the bodies of Belgair's slain soldiers who were hanging from the scaffolds on the common.

  "Been looking for you. Todd pulled a chair up, turned it around, and straddled it.

  "You've found me. Kynyr continued to stare from the window; his tone distant.

  "You can't keep brooding about it. It was not your fault those myn died."

  "I feel responsible. If I had not come to Wolffgard five years ago..."

  "If you hadn't, we would have Belgair as regent and Malthus running the realm. Would you want that?"

  "No. Duty is where you find it."

  "What do you make of your uncle?"

  "Stone? He's not what I expected."

  "He told me what he did to you."

  Kynyr's eyes slewed sideways at the disapprobation in Todd's tone. I can move my legs. And they're not as cold as they were."

  "I suppose that is something."

  "You don't like him?"

  "I haven't decided. When he was young, he was nothing but grief for everyone who cared about him. Now? Who can say?"

  Kynyr's gaze returned to the window and he scratched at his golden ginger sideburns. Kady had shaved them off during his illness and they were just then growing back. I have to trust him, Todd. I need Stone every bit as much as I need you."

  "Ayup. I'm aware of that. At least he doesn't want the throne. His claim is as good as yours; better in some ways."

  "Ironic. Neither of us wanting the throne. Now I'll fight the Hellgod himself, to protect Claw's legacy."

  Todd leaned over and hugged Kynyr. I raised you right."

  * * * *

  Wallace Callaghan, new made Thane and hero of Longbranch for defeating a unit of Waejontori cavalry, considered his opposite number, Selwyn Brawleigh of Anglecyn. They sat near the hearth in the sitting room of Selwyn's large suite. I tell you, if he got the use of his legs back, there would not be a mon who could match Kynyr Maguire. And I'm not just saying that because I'm married to his sister. He was the best Todd Sinclair ever trained."

  "All the more shame on the House of Doherty then. Selwyn took a swallow from his tankard of mead.

  "Hard to understand how the son of a Thane would poison someone."

  "You're refreshing, Wallace. You don't know us well enough yet to see all the tawdry trappings that dangle from our tails."

  "Like yours? Wallace's tone turned wary.

  "I would like to think I don't have any. Selwyn's lips pursed in bemusement. However, from what my grandfather used to tell me, there was more honor among thanes before the Rebellion, than afterward. There's still more honor in the north than the south, possibly because we're not as prosperous, so we have less to lose by being honorable. Selwyn shook himself. I apologize. I'm being cynical. I get that way every time I have to deal with the likes of Clennan Doherty and Vertram Devlin."

  "I don't like them either."

  "I almost brought my family along. But Audra can't stand being around Jocelyn and Lillian."

  "Audra?"

  "My wife. I wish I had now. Audra would like Leeny, Phoebe, and Russa.
"

  "They're easy to like. The whole family is. Both the Maguire side and the Sinclairs."

  "I am looking forward to meeting them. All of the northern thanes have sided with Kynyr. The midlands could go either way. As for those bloody southerners, they seem to be lining up behind Clennan and Vertram."

  "Politics! Wallace brandished his tankard. I'd rather fight a war with swords than a skirmish of words."

  "Leave the politics to Cedric and me. Get Blayne and Weylen to follow our lead, and we'll have Kynyr crowned as soon as Claw is buried."

  "I'm with you on it."

  "Good. Selwyn turned a canny eye to Wallace. Now, I need to point out a danger you are probably not aware of.... Those two myn you see with Clennan all the time?"

  "The ones who walk like swordsmyn?"

  "You've a good eye. They are Faerwald Davies and Lairgan Yates. They are professionals."

  "Soldiers?"

  "Killers. Duelists. Doherty calls them his bodyguards, but they are hired murderers. Nothing more. Every member of your family is in danger ... especially Todd and Kynyr."

  "Thanks for the warning. We'll deal with them."

  "I think you're being overconfident. Todd's old and Kynyr's crippled."

  "You don't know the Sinclairs. Wallace's eyes narrowed with a flash of fierce certitude. Todd has three sons, all masters of the sword. I doubt that these professionals can match Trevor, Queran, and especially Jordan. Jordy's another Todd."

  "Then you'd best get them here. I have a feeling you're going to need them."

  "I will see what I can do, but I doubt we'll need them. Trevor's already here. And so is StealsThunder."

  "StealsThunder? Who is he?"

  "She. Fae armsmaster. Thunder is Captain of the Chosen Thirteen, Kady's bodyguards."

  "She'd better be very good."

  "She is. Thunder eats vampires."

  "How do you eat a vampire without becoming one? Selwyn laughed.

  "You roast them first."

  Selwyn choked on a sip of mead. You're serious?"

  "Absolutely."

  "I'll have to take your word for it then."

  "What about this gossip about Stone? Clennan threw it in my face yesterday."

  "Oh that old shite. There's as many versions of the story as there are people to tell it. Yes, Fianait and Stone were lovers. It's said that was the reason their father banished him. Claw rescinded the banishment as soon as he became chieftain, but Stone refused to come home. All things considered, it can't have been as bad as some say, since Claw's first act was to try and get his brother to come home."

  "Is this going to hurt Kynyr? Wallace felt driven to ask the question. He recalled holding Kynyr while the younger mon wept for the loss of his father Branduff and his cousin Duggan last summer; which had engendered in him the protectiveness of an older brother for a younger.

  "Not with the northerners. The past is the past. We have to worry about the present and the future. Those sa'necari bastards had been ravaging the northlands for months. Gateshead fell. Whiteford and Three Stones were attacked. If Stone had not destroyed their army at Maerse Field, they would still be murdering and raping their way through our territories. When you owe your life and the lives of your families to a mon, forgiveness is a given."

  CHAPTER FIVE

  FALSE EVIDENCE

  The new lawgiver to Wolffgard, Ossian O'Reilly, wasted no time in making his presence felt within the community. Ossian was a stern visaged young wolf who dressed like a Battle-Clansmon in black leathers with two fighting knives at his hips, a claymore at his shoulder, and a crossbow clipped to his belt. He and his brothers had made a point of drinking in each of the taverns in Wolffgard just so that people would take note of them, wearing their lawgiver runes in plain sight.

  He was a shrewd mon who had made a fine art of listening to his gut instincts. A trio of desks stood facing the door into the first of the three infirmaries where the wounded from the night of the purge were being cared for. Folding screens had been extended to give the myn in the beds beyond them privacy. Two wheel-chairs stood empty opposite the desks. Ossian strolled over to them and pushed one back and forth watching how the wheels worked.

  "Clever thing."

  Sha, the senior healer, turned from making notations at her desk. Her cornflower eyes took in the runes hanging from his neck and then his face. What can we do for you, Lawgiver?"

  Ossian quit toying with the wheel-chair. From her no nonsense bearing to the harsh upswept way she wore her black hair, Ossian could tell that she took her position as seriously as he did his. I need to speak with some of the wounded."

  "Don't tire them."

  "I'm looking for William Galloway first."

  "Last bed on the left."

  Ossian walked down the aisle, nodding to the myn in the beds as he passed. Several of them called out to him.

  "We got us a lawgiver!"

  "Welcome to you!"

  "It's about time we got one of you again."

  Ossian arrived at the end and found a slender young human sitting at the bedside of Willy Galloway. What is your name? And where do you live?"

  "I'm Bella Montegna. I work for Luciano Albertus at the Scarlet Angel Mage Shop. I live above it."

  "Don't leave town."

  "Am I under suspicion? She clutched at Willy's hand in a spasm of fear.

  "At this point everyone is. He turned to Willy. So you're William Galloway. You warned Todd Sinclair of the purge."

  Willy sucked in a breath. I was attacked in my rooms by Lennox Strahan, Derek, and Eamon. I was unarmed, but they cut me up anyway. I went out a window and reached the stables where Georgie Rogan helped me to get mounted and I rode here."

  "Is there anything else you think I should know?"

  "A few weeks ago, Belgair Doherty ordered Lon Anglesey flogged for allowing Darcy MacFie to cross into Red Wolf."

  "Finn MacIver's wife?"

  A flush of joy colored Willy's pale face. He married her?"

  "As I understand it, the same day I arrived. Yes. Now go on."

  "Anyway, Belgair refused to allow Sheradyn to tend Lon's injuries. So I went down to the pantry. Isbeth keeps a few supplies there. While I was grabbing stuff ... bandages, salve, and poppy milk ... I found a strange bottle that I took to Luciano Albertus. It had no labels and the contents smelled strange. Luciano told me that it was poison and might be the same they had been slipping Kynyr that caused his collapse."

  "What did you do then?"

  "Nothing. We didn't have a lawgiver and I didn't know who to trust."

  "Do you still have the bottle?"

  "Unless they ransacked my quarters, it should still be there. I put it on the ledge of the bed frame behind the headboard. I didn't want anyone finding it until I could decide what to do."

  The presence of a solid clue to the poisoning excited Ossian. He had intended to talk to more of the wounded guardsmyn; instead, he altered his plans, seized by the need to find the bottle that Willy had told him of before anyone else stumbled upon it.

  "I'll want to speak with you further, Willy. So don't go anywhere."

  Willy grabbed the crutch leaning against the headboard and wagged it at Ossian. As if I could."

  * * * *

  Berneen feared Clennan.

  He had difficulty getting his clothes off, fumbling with his good hand at the lacings. The sagging muscles and age-slicked skin of his right side looked bad enough, but the twisted, desiccated limbs on the left made her stomach clench at the thought of his touching her. She had prayed from the first day that her father arranged for Clennan to mount her that his seed would have withered with age and leave the joining barren. Berneen had grown into a feeling of safety only to have it dashed two months ago when she missed her menses.

  She had contemplated tansy, but Clennan must have guessed her thoughts; he warned her that if she lost the cub, he would give her to Faerwald.

  Her father's plan had backfired. As old as Clennan was, her
father had believed that having such a young and appealing bitch in his bed would soften the thane into forgiving his debts. Instead, Clennan had seen having her as a right, not a favor. Berneen had threatened to leave Clennan one day following one of his public humiliations of her. His response had been to foreclose on her father's estates, leaving him penniless and Berneen with no place to flee to. After that, Berneen did whatever Clennan asked of her.

  Her hatred of the old mon lay smothered beneath her fear. Her anger became secondary to a determination to get something in the way of money and prestige out of her position as his mistress. Berneen sent part of everything Clennan gave her to her father so that he had a roof over his head and food on his table.

  After building up the fire in the hearth, Berneen stretched naked on the bed with a forced smile on her lips and a come-hither glance.

  He dragged his left leg, grabbing and moving it with his hand in order to straddle her. His member hung limp. He sat on her shoulders and breasts. It took effort to get an erection from him. Berneen patiently licked and sucked him to hardness.

  He stroked her face with the back of his twisted hand and Berneen tried not to shudder.

  Once she had gotten him as stiff as he was likely to get, Clennan crawled down her until he had it bobbing at her clit. He got the knob inside her and started snarling. Berneen's heart sank. He had gone soft again.

  "Faerwald! Clennan twisted around, grabbed the bedpost, and used it to ease himself off the bed and into a nearby chair. Faerwald."

  The tall bodyguard came in grinning. Yes, lord?"

  "Entertain me."

  Faerwald snatched cords from his pouch and bound Berneen's wrists and ankles to the posts. She did not resist. She had been through it before. Faerwald disrobed and climbed onto the bed between her legs.

  "Rough or gentle, my lord?"

  "Rough, but stay away from her belly."

  Clennan had seven sons and five daughters from his three wives. Having another cub at this point meant little to him beyond the fact that he could brag about his fertility at age one hundred and twenty. The Reader had told him it was his. It could have been Faerwald's or Lairgan's.