Fallen Embers

by P. G. Forte

  “If you were here, you hid yourself well.”

  “Not well enough, I fear.” Kendrick shook back his cloak and showed Conrad the stump of his arm, which had been cut off just below the elbow. “You said we hadn’t met before, but my arm says otherwise. You took it from me with your first blow. Then you swung again. ’Twere not my neck as thick as it is, I’ve no doubt you’d have had my head as well. And then I’d have been as dead as all the rest.”

  “Ah. I see.” The conversation had taken an unexpected and not particularly pleasant turn. “I’ve never gone into a fight with the intention of merely wounding my opponent. Yet I cannot pretend I am not pleased to have failed in killing you. There were no others then?”

  “What—other survivors, d’you mean? No, my lord.”

  Conrad nodded, but could think of nothing else to say. He was conscious of a vague sense of disappointment. “Why don’t you tell me what I’m doing here? And what it is you want from me?”

  “Very well. Shall we be seated?” Kendrick gestured toward two chairs set dangerously near the blazing hearth. “It’s a long story. We may as well be comfortable as I tell it.”

  Conrad hesitated. Comfortable? So close to an open flame? What game was this? He didn’t trust the situation, but if Kendrick was truly a man intent on vengeance, he hid it well. Conrad decided to take the risk. “After you.”

  “I do not know how things got started,” Kendrick began once they were both seated. “But for as far back as any of us now living can remember, this House has been at war with Rupert’s. There are some who say that Edwin started it, and I wouldn’t doubt it. Nor would I fault him. Rupert has preyed upon the good people of this neighborhood for generations, wreaking his havoc and tearing families apart. Most of us were born within a dozen miles of here and nearly all of us have lost at least one family member to Rupert’s House. I myself lost a niece—daughter of my eldest brother. A beautiful girl she was; now she’s a monster. Deadly and cruel, as heartless as any other of her kind.”

  “That goes without saying,” Conrad could not help but interject. “As an Invitus, were she otherwise, she would not have survived very long.”

  “Aye, so they do say. My point, however, was that Rupert did not seize her by chance. She was taken not too long after I pledged for Edwin. My brother always swore ’twas done out of vengeance, that Rupert took her because he could no longer have me. It broke my brother’s heart, it did. And tore our family asunder. I hear the poor man died cursing me and Rupert both for what we’d done.”

  Conrad nodded. “It has ever been thus with Invitus. Go on.”

  “Ever since word reached us that you had killed your mistress and seized control of her House, Rupert has been unleashing holy hell upon us. This is no longer a war that we can win. If it ever truly was.”

  “I do not understand. Rupert has no quarrel with me that I’m aware of—or any connection with Hera Noctis. What cares he who I’ve killed in the past?”

  “Who can say what foul thoughts might occupy the mind of a madman? Perhaps he’s afraid you’ll attempt to overthrow his House next? He may have hoped that by obliterating your ties to this island, he could stop you from attempting to establish a foothold here.”

  Conrad sighed. “And yet again it seems I am misjudged.”

  “Then again, it’s equally possible it has nothing to do with you at all. We are a very young nest at present—that’s a big part of our problem. Aside from myself, the rest are very green indeed. I’d hoped to give us an advantage by expanding our numbers, but it turns out that increasing our numbers was not enough, by itself, to give us an advantage—something I should perhaps have foreseen. It needs strength and skill to win this battle; we lack for both.”

  “Tannar told me you sired most of those here.”

  Kendrick shook his head. “Our losses have been heavy. As things stand now, all of those who are still alive are of my making—all born out of loneliness or hubris or some other foolishness on my part. ’Twas a gamble, and a bad one at that, for thus have I doomed us all. With each life Rupert takes now, I am made weaker and less able to defend those who are yet left to me.” He shook his head. “The answer, I suppose, would be for me to kill the most grievously wounded, and thus reabsorb a little of the strength I’ve given out. But they look at me so trusting and I find I cannot do it. I don’t know if one such as yourself can understand that, but they are all very dear to my heart.”

  “One such as myself?”

  Kendrick arched a brow. “I’m sure you’ve your own opinion on the subject, and I hope you will not take offense, but the Invitus are not known for their tenderness—even towards their own.”

  “I am most unlikely to take offense on that count.” Conrad shook his head. “For you are not wrong. In as much as it is possible, such feelings as tenderness are bred out of us from the start. Pray continue.”

  “Strength and skill,” Kendrick repeated. “The two qualities we lack. And what have they in common? They cannot be rushed. Both must be nurtured. They must develop slowly, over time; and time is yet another luxury, something else we have in short supply. Without immediate assistance we are doomed. We can no longer hope to fend off Rupert on our own. And that, my lord, is where you come in.”

  “I begin to understand.” Conrad nodded toward the hearth. “So is that the reason for this fire? As a last ditch form of defense in case you’re attacked?”

  “Ah, yes. The fire.” Kendrick hesitated. “How much did Tannar tell you about his mission tonight?”

  Conrad shrugged. “Very little. Only that he’d been sent to meet my ship.”

  “Your ship—aye. But not you, yourself. You’ll appreciate the distinction, perhaps?”

  “I’m not sure I do.”

  “His mission was primarily to observe,” Kendrick explained. “Under no circumstances was he to approach you unless he was absolutely certain you had come alone.”

  Conrad felt his interest quicken. “And if I had come here with the army it seems you were expecting me to bring—what then?”

  “Half-expecting. For I am well aware, my lord, that, if you’d come here simply to kill us, you would not need an army to assist you. Although I suppose a few extra hands to help dispose of the bodies might prove a useful thing.”

  “Indeed.” Conrad smiled reluctantly at the small joke. “So then?”

  “So then…there were worse things to consider. If you had come with other Invitus, I’d have been forced to conclude that you intended to use us in much the same way as Rupert has done, as fodder for your fledglings.”

  “Stop,” Conrad ordered, snarling in fury. “I will not fault you for your suspicions, for I know such things do occur. But I will suffer no comparison between my own activities and those of someone like Rupert. I do not create Invitus. Nor do I allow any of my House to do so. If I knew of a way by which the practice itself might be eradicated, I would bend all my efforts toward making it so. Have I made myself clear?”

  “You have.” Kendrick’s voice was steady, but the wary look was back in his eyes and Conrad did not miss the way his hand shook slightly as he clutched the arm of his chair. “But how can I trust in what you say?”

  “On this topic I am intransigent. I have given you my word. Do not question it.”

  “Aye.”

  “Now, continue,” Conrad urged, making an effort to regain his temper and striving to silence the beast still raging inside him. “And tell me, what part did Tannar play in this? For if you tell me he knew of any of this, I shall be most surprised. He must be a far more accomplished actor than I’d ever have believed or given him credit for.”

  “Tannar? Act?” Kendrick cackled with laughter. “Oh, gods, no. That boy couldn’t lie to save himself. Whatever he thinks is plain on his face in the instant it crosses his mind. And no fear missing it, even if it happens you’re not sighted, for the words themsel
ves will be tumbling out of his mouth soon enough. You’d best believe I’ve not shared any of my worries with him beyond what he’s needed to know—for both our sakes.”

  “He said he’d been chosen to meet me because he was the least battle-ready among you. Was that part true?”

  “Well, it’s not entirely false. He’s not as handy with a sword as most of the others—that much is fact. And he is the fastest among us. But I also wanted someone who was not likely to question my motives. Anyone else might have guessed the truth of what I intended.”

  “Which was?”

  Kendrick met his gaze challengingly. “In the event you were not alone, I’d have been convinced we were facing certain death. In response, I’d have killed every last member of this nest myself, and then set fire to whatever would burn. I’d have left naught but the blackened earth and scorched rocks upon it to greet you on your arrival. That’s what the fire is for. And if it pleases you to say that, by acting thus, I’d have been cheating you out of what’s rightly yours, then that’s your prerogative. I’ll not deny the charge and will suffer the consequences gladly, for sure and I’d make the same choice again.” Kendrick leaned back in his chair, still gazing at Conrad challengingly. “So there you have it, my lord.”

  Conrad stared at him in surprise. “Well, you have courage. I’ll say that for you.”

  “There are those who’d more likely call me foolish, I think.”

  “By no means should you assume I am suggesting the two are mutually exclusive. Were you really willing to sacrifice those who depend on you, to betray those who trust in you, based on nothing more than assumption? How is that anything but foolish? What if I’d brought this supposed army with me in order to lay siege to Rupert’s stronghold, or for some other, completely unrelated reason—to rebuild this castle, perhaps? What if they were with me merely because I desired companionship upon the road?”

  “Then I would have been mistaken.”

  “And your people would have paid the price.”

  Kendrick scowled. “What would you have me say to you? It has ever been thus. The bards would have nothing to sing about if no one ever decided wrongly. The truth, my lord, is that I’m old—far older than you, I think—and I have seen too much in my time. There are things I fear far more than death, the slavery of my people, for example.”

  “I have known slavery and I do not say you are wrong. Yet, I’ve always held that where there is life, there is hope.”

  “Whatever hope I once possessed is gone. But do not thou accuse me of betraying my people. If I can no longer defend them, nor bring them along to the point where they can hope to defend themselves, if I cannot keep them safe from Rupert and his ravening horde, then, yes, my lord, I will end them. I’d rather do so now and spare them what suffering I can. And those of them as knows what I’ve been planning, and who know the kind of mercy they’d receive from Rupert, they’d rather it too. Do not pretend to be so moved by our plight. You do not know us. Nor will our deaths diminish your strength to any measurable amount. It can matter but little to you whether we live or die. ’Tis far greater tragedies in the world than ours.”

  Conrad growled softly. He found it hard to fault Kendrick’s logic, especially since he’d harbored many of the same thoughts himself. A few less vampires in the world hardly counted as a tragedy. It felt odd to hear his own thoughts coming out of another man’s mouth. Odd and uncomfortable, for now, having met them, he found his mind had been changed. “Nevertheless, I would like to help you avert this tragedy, if possible. What must we do to ensure your safety? Must I battle Rupert myself?”

  Kendrick’s eyes widened in surprise. “I doubt he’d agree to meet you in battle. The risk would be too great, the reward too small. Even if you failed to kill him, if you weakened him sufficiently, his entire tribe would likely turn against him. Nor would I wish to see you risk yourself in such a manner. For let me be blunt, my lord, your continued good health is our best protection. Were we to lose you to Rupert, we ourselves would be lost.”

  “Well then? What am I to do? You must have had something in mind when you summoned me here.”

  Kendrick sighed. “I still think Rupert’s greatest fear must be the thought of you settling here and laying siege to his House. Perhaps you could make it clear to him that we are indeed under your protection, and that you’d take it amiss were he to allow these raids upon us to continue?”

  Conrad shrugged. “That’s easily done. I will visit him on the morrow and explain that, while I have no great desire to remain on this island, I will do so if that is the only way in which this clan might be protected. And lest he should decide that he might rid himself of me permanently by eradicating this household in my absence, I will make it clear what the consequence of such an action will be. To wit, I shall return to this island with my entire House and ne’er leave its shores again until I have dealt all of his people, and he himself, a similar fate.”

  Kendrick inclined his head. “I thank ye, my lord. And I would make a promise to you as well. Just give us the chance we need to heal and grow strong again—strong enough that we might stand on our own once more—and I promise you, we will do your House proud.”

  Before Kendrick had finished speaking, sounds filtering in from the hallway outside the room had drawn Conrad’s attention. From the way Kendrick’s head swiveled toward the door, Conrad knew he’d heard it too. Someone was coming.

  The two men rose to their feet as one. Conrad drew his sword from its scabbard. Kendrick produced a long knife that had been hidden beneath his cloak.

  “My lord! My lord!” a voice shouted urgently as the door was thrown open. “My lord Kendrick!” Breathless with excitement, the young-looking man approached the hearth. He stopped when he caught sight of Conrad and eyed him warily.

  “What is it, Gerald?” Kendrick inquired.

  “We’ve caught a spy, my lord. One of Rupert’s people—a woman. She walked in through the gate, bold as brass, and is out there even now, demanding to talk with ye.”

  “She wants to talk to me?”

  “Aye, my lord. I told Rolf we should stake her through the heart and be done with her, but the she-devil laughed and invited us to try it if we thought we could. I think Rolf is scared of her, for he insisted we should tell you about it instead.”

  Kendrick spat upon the ground. “Bah! I’ll have naught to do with her. Send her back to the devil from whence she came!”

  “Aye, my lord.”

  “Hold!” Conrad ordered. He turned to Kendrick. “What sort of spy would announce her presence so openly? Is it not more likely she comes bearing a message? Why would you not hear her out?”

  “I have my reasons,” Kendrick replied darkly. “Though it occurs to me that this decision is not mine to make. What does my lord advise?”

  “I would hear what she has to say.”

  “My lord!” Gerald protested. “No! You cannot allow her entrance. She’s Invitus.”

  “Silence!” Kendrick nodded toward Conrad. “This is Quintano. Master of this House. You had best hope he’ll be forgiving you your rudeness. Now tell me something, did the wench ask for me by name?”

  Gerald’s eyes grew wide. His brow creased in doubt and confusion. “B-by n-name? Why, no, my lord. She just said she’d come to talk to my master. I just assumed…”

  Kendrick nodded. “As I thought.” He arched a brow and turned to Conrad. “Well, my lord?”

  Conrad fixed Gerald with a stern gaze and ordered, “Show her in.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Do you anticipate trouble?” Conrad inquired as he and Kendrick waited for Gerald to return with their “guest”. Conrad had already sheathed his sword, but Kendrick’s knife was still in his hand.

  Kendrick shrugged. “Why put oneself at a disadvantage? There is naught to be gained by relaxing one’s guard too soon. She may be a messenger, as she claims. S
he may just as easily be an assassin.”

  “If she is, she will die,” Conrad replied. “But I know something of what it is to be a messenger at these gates. I do not wish to repeat my predecessor’s errors.”

  “Or share in his fate, I’ll warrant,” Kendrick said with a spark of reluctant humor.

  “Indeed,” Conrad agreed. Then a new thought occurred to him. Vaguely, he recalled Georgia’s warnings. “I am curious. What manner of reception might I expect when I approach Rupert on the morrow? Will there be other ‘Geralds’ there, seeking to end me before e’er I reach Rupert’s hall? It seems messengers are accorded far too little respect in this land.”

  Kendrick sighed. “Gerald is a fool. He would have found himself dead many times over by now had he been allowed to act on his own impulses. It is lucky for him that Rolf has a cooler head and helps keep him in check. As to the rest, I do not know what will happen on the morrow. I think it unlikely you will be attacked, but if you’re concerned and would prefer to send one of us to plead your case, I volunteer myself.”

  “I do not prefer it,” Conrad replied coolly. “I will fight my own battles. I only ask so that I might be prepared.”

  Kendrick’s brow knit as he considered. “As far as I’m aware, there are not many among Rupert’s people who need worry you. Very few are skilled warriors. Indeed, most of them, unless they are ordered to fight you, will likely do whatever they can to avoid attracting your attention. As to the others, those more likely to pose a challenge, I doubt Rupert would be willing to risk too many of them, for they are the source of much of his strength. Were you to kill them, it would empower you and leave Rupert diminished. On balance, therefore, I believe you will be welcomed most courteously. It is in his best interests to hear what you have to say. And who knows? He may even wish to form an alliance with you.”

  Conrad shook his head. “Then he will be disappointed.”

  Once again, sounds filtered in from the corridor beyond. Footsteps. A brief scuffle. The ringing sound of flesh striking flesh. Followed by Gerald’s muttered oath and then a woman’s voice, low and furious. “I have warned you once already to keep your hands to yourself. Touch me again and you shall lose that hand—I promise.”