The cheery band hurried away, the girls giggling with delight at the attention they were receiving. Pepca wished she could believe that everything was going to be fine, but her heart told her otherwise. Maybe she should have gone with Tempest and pretended, just for a little while.
* * *
Katrina pulled her jerkin over her head; the woman’s mass of auburn hair was a perfect mess. Blowing at the curls that hung in her face, she did her best to look disgusted. “This can’t happen again,” Katrina said, her tone one of feigned irritation.
K’xarr sat on the edge of the bed, nude, the makeshift floor planks cold beneath his feet. “That’s what you said the last three times.”
Katrina leaned against the room’s small table, trying to pull on a boot. “You took advantage of my grief the night Julian died. I was upset and needed someone to comfort me. My judgement wasn’t sound.”
“I did comfort you that night. Twice, I believe.”
She threw one of her boots at his head. “It is not funny.”
“If I have taken advantage of you, how is it that you came to my quarters the following night and then again last night?” K’xarr said, pulling on a pair of dark pants.
Katrina’s face reddened and she hung her head. The mercenary captain took her in his arms, but she shrugged him off. Grabbing her tightly, K’xarr pulled her to him and lifted her chin, kissing her passionately. Half-heartedly, Katrina tried to push him away, then without warning, she feverishly returned his kiss.
“There is no shame in we have done, Katrina. Sometimes people just need the company of another to make us feel alive.”
Katrina took a breath and pushed him away. “I know, but you are…”
“I am what?”
“A bloodthirsty mercenary that leads a band of murders and killers, and on top of that, the blood of the Beast runs through your veins.” She turned her back and took a step away. “For the love of God, you took my friends prisoner and planned to turn them over to Serban for gold. You are not a good man.”
K’xarr wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck. “I am good to you, and what we are doing makes you feel good, so what is the harm?”
“What will my friends say? What will Vladimir say?”
“That you are a lucky woman?” K’xarr chuckled.
She turned to slap him, but he caught her wrist and kissed her again. Guiding her back to the crude bed in the corner of the room, the two sank down onto the cold blankets. “I am going to have to get dressed all over again,” Katrina panted.
“I will make it worth your while,” K’xarr said, sliding on top of her.
* * *
Vladimir stomped the snow from his boots before walking into Constantine’s quarters. The leader of the rebels hated messes and things were getting very untidy around their winter camp. Not only was the deep cold setting in, but now Strom’s mercenaries outnumbered the rebels. The camp had been split in half since the sellswords moved in. The Trimenian people wanted no part of the hired killers.
Vladimir didn’t see the mercenary presence as much of a problem. The people would have to get used to the brutes if they were going to fight alongside them come spring. Constantine, however, hated the change. Captain Strom had a very commanding manner. The mercenary exuded authority and it was clear that Constantine saw him as a threat. Vladimir saw the man as a useful tool to the rebellion. For the good of all, Constantine would have to find a way to deal with the imposing mercenary.
When he stepped in, the self-appointed general sat sipping a cup of wine, seemingly deep in thought.
“I thought I would walk over with you to see Prince Dimitri,” Vladimir said, closing the door.
“I’m not going,” Constantine said with a frown.
“What? K’xarr and his officers, as well as the prince, are waiting for us. The plans for spring need to be changed now that we are so few.”
“I am not concerned with the prince, or that jackal Strom. I lead this rebellion, and it is my orders that will be followed. When the weather warms, our ranks will fill again, then I will issue the orders for our campaign. I don’t need to consult with either of those men.”
Vladimir pulled out a chair and sat down across from the general. “No one disputes your leadership, but we need Strom and the prince.”
Constantine took another sip of wine. “When spring comes and the countryside rises, we will no longer need Strom or the blind prince. The people will flock to us by the thousands, and then we will storm the palace and put an end to Serban and the Lasota family once and for all.”
Vladimir paused, trying to keep calm. The general’s stubbornness poked at his nerves. Constantine was getting ahead of himself. The fallacy that the people could defeat Trimenia’s standing army was a fantasy their general had convinced himself of long ago. Constantine’s unfounded confidence had also cost them dearly the last time the people had risen against the baron. Now he was just being childish.
“The people are not warriors, we have seen that time and time again. They are little match for the royal army or Serban’s mercenaries. With K’xarr’s men and the soldiers Prince Dimitri claims he can draw to our cause, for once our forces might not have to throw away their lives for nothing. Trained warriors will hold them together. They will believe they can win.”
“Yes, and once we have gotten rid of Serban, what then? Dimitri and his sister will turn on us just like the aristocracy always has. Strom fights for pay. Whose side do you think he will join?” Constantine looked into his eyes. “Not only does Serban need to be destroyed, but the royal family must also pay for their crimes. That includes Pepca and her blind brother. The Lasota monarchy must end for Trimenia to be truly free.”
Vladimir frowned. The king was one thing, but murdering the rest of the royals was another. Betraying Strom and the royal family was a bad idea. There had to be other ways to get what they wanted. Yet he wasn’t prepared to dispute the man who had befriended him despite the wolf. Constantine had given him purpose, and a home with the rebellion. Vladimir would not take sides against him. Maybe in time, he could make Constantine see the error in his intentions. “Before any of this can be decided, we have to win. Then we can talk of how to proceed. I will meet with Strom and the prince in your stead and let you know what they want to do.”
“If you wish, we will use them for now, but in the end, Vladimir, do remember who your friends are. This is our country; it belongs to the people.”
“I haven’t forgotten, nor will I. I am just trying to do what is best for Trimenia.”
Constantine reached across the table and patted his hand. “As am I.”
* * *
The meeting had gone well, K’xarr thought as he strolled across the camp. Constantine hadn’t attended, though that wasn’t a surprise. Vladimir assured them that he was just busy with other matters. The shapechanger’s lie had been a poor one.
K’xarr knew the rebel general was angry about the prince’s arrival. The fool was afraid his power with the people would be usurped. Despite the rebel general’s popularity with his people, K’xarr thought the man a self-serving worm.
As far as he was concerned, Constantine’s approval wasn’t needed anyway. Riders would be sent out immediately to quietly spread word of the prince’s intentions. With any luck, it would draw the soldiers Dimitri claimed were loyal to him to by spring. Once he and Dimitri secured a position of power, Constantine’s rebellious rabble would fall in line or be left out of the fight completely. As far as K’xarr was concerned, most of the peasants were of little use anyway.
Just once he wished he wasn’t the one scrounging for troops. It would be nice to ride into a battle where he had the advantage of numbers. Cromwell liked the challenge of beating the odds, there was more glory in it, and Kian thrived on fighting for a losing cause. However, he would rather slaughter the enemy with as little fuss as possible. It would keep his head from hurting so much.
Right then, however, his mind wasn’t on the co
ming battle at all. It was on his redheaded lover. Katrina had bewitched him with her enthusiastic lovemaking. She professed not to care for him, but once in his bed, the Trimenian wench was near feral. K’xarr chuckled at the thought; the more she said she hated him the more time she spent under his blankets. He had liked her look from the first time he saw her walking down the road with Kian. She was young, strong, and beautiful. Her passion was like a raging fire, and her temper was just as volatile.
K’xarr rolled his shoulders and sighed, no sense getting too worked up about it. When this was over, he would be gone from Trimenia one way or another. As long as he was here, he would enjoy the woman as much as she would allow. There could be nothing else.
He was on his way to see Kago when he spotted a figure at the edge of the camp’s perimeter. Shrouded in a heavy dark cloak, the figure had allowed him to see them then shrank back into the cover of the trees. K’xarr moved out of the clearing and into the dense forest. Cursing as he struggled through the snow-covered brush, the mercenary pushed his way through the leafless tangle.
“Have you not learned to move with more stealth?”
Casting a glance ahead, K’xarr saw his mother’s dark eyes staring at him from inside a large, fur-lined cowl. Kicking the branches of a frozen bush out of his way, he moved closer. “I see you’re still alive. I wondered since I haven’t heard anything from you since Masaria, Mother.”
Gabrielle reached out a gloved hand and touched his face. “You look well, my son.”
K’xarr swept her hand away. “Where have you been? I could have used your magic a time or two since I saw you last. I thought we had come to an arrangement?”
The witch sighed. “The queen of the gods is none too happy with us after we aided you in destroying Gallio. It seems her brother, the sea god Satron, had planned to claim the city as his own.”
K’xarr scoffed. “What do I care about the gods or their imagined slights? It was war, things happen. You would think they would understand that, being gods and all.”
Gabrielle’s painted lips pressed together, forming a red line. “You should take care what you say about the gods. They hover around you and your companions like a swarm of gnats, and they have begun to act. That is why I have braved the danger of coming here, to warn you that their schemes and quarrels are going to spill right into your lap.”
“What the hell are you talking about? I don’t see you for over a year and now you say the gods are going to interfere in my life. It sounds like a bunch of horseshit to me, Mother.”
“Sometimes you are a fool, son. You would do well to take the gods more seriously, K’xarr. For now, you must tread carefully. Things will soon change on Shadow Dragon Mountain, and I will be able to see you more often.”
“Don’t bother if all you want to talk about the gods and their idiotic designs. You and your sisters should be riding at my side. The army I am building, combined with your magic, would be invincible.”
Gabrielle’s arms fell to her side. “Your arrogance is a weakness, K’xarr. You should see to it. And Raven told you, we serve only one master.”
“Yes, the Reaper, I know, fuck him too. I am K’xarr Strom. One day, he will come to know that name.”
The witch gave her son a cold look. “The God of Death taking an interest in you is something you should not seek, though it may be too late for you to keep clear of the immortal’s notice.” Gabrielle sighed heavily. “I didn’t come to fight with you, son, only warn you.”
“Well, you have, so now you can go on back and hide with the others, unless you want to aid me in this war. Kian said he ran into members of the Circle. This baron we fight may have magic backing him.”
“I cannot aid you, K’xarr…not now.”
“Then really what good are you?”
“I see I am wasting my time,” Gabrielle said sharply. “You are too much like the rest of the men in this family. Fare thee well, my son.” The witch raised a hand and faded from his sight.
“I don’t need you, Mother,” K’xarr shouted to the sky. “I will take my glory without you or the gods’ help, then I’m going to shove it up your worthless ass.”
The mercenary captain jerked Crimson Wave from its scabbard and began to cut a path back to the camp.
* * *
Tragedy stood in the throne room of the Trimenian palace. She studied the room’s lavish décor, and thought the burgundy and black colors were far too overdone.
Misfortune sat on the Wolf Throne, her hands under her thighs, swinging her legs back and forth like a child. The sorceress was never one to take anything too seriously.
“I can’t believe that thing still has the nerve to keep us waiting,” Misfortune said, her violet eyes blinking at Tragedy from behind her purple mask.
“Would you take that silly thing off? You look like you’re going to a masquerade ball at a brothel,” Tragedy replied, rolling her eyes.
“It matches my clothing.” The sorceress gestured to the dark purple leather vest and leggings she wore; the woman had even dyed her high boots the same gaudy color. Hopping off the throne, Misfortune swaggered over and lay her head on Tragedy’s shoulder. “I am bored with this. I’m going to set that little undead snake on fire when he gets in here.”
“Patience. Serban will get what is coming to him in good time.”
Misfortune raised her head, her thick brown hair falling on her shoulders. Tragedy liked the look; her friend had always looked better with her hair free.
“Speaking of patience, are you finished with the Slayer and his cow?”
Tragedy exhaled heavily. Despite her best efforts to forget Kian, she still yearned for the inhuman warrior. She well knew it was foolish to even entertain the idea the making the man her lover. The loyal-hearted idiot would never give up on Endra. Nor would the mercenary bitch leave him. Even her best efforts had not yielded the smallest crack in their love.
“I think I will let them be for now, though I don’t feel it is over. I have time on my side, after all.”
“Then let us finish our business with this rotten noble and go somewhere warm. Vanguard told you to deal with Trimenia however you wished.”
Tragedy giggled at her carefree friend. “Fine. When we are done here, we can take a few days in the south if it will stop your whining.”
Misfortune kissed her hard on the lips.
“By the gods, your lips taste like plums,” Tragedy said, touching her mouth.
“I know. It is a new spell I concocted. Do you like it?”
“I think you are carrying this color coordination thing much too far.”
They heard the door to the king’s private chamber close, and Serban appeared from behind the throne. “Ladies, to what do I owe the honor of your visit?”
Tragedy’s eyes narrowed. “Well, that is much more cordial than last time we spoke.”
Serban gave a mock bow. “I am in a fine mood this evening. Can I offer you wine?”
“No, we won’t be staying long. We have come tell you that Vanguard has decided Trimenia is no longer important to him, so you are free of us, Alexis. I know that is something you desired.”
The baron smiled. “Without being too insulting, yes. I don’t believe I need any more assistance from the Circle. My plans are moving forward and the rebellion is all but destroyed. Constantine and his rabble are no longer any serious threat.”
“Is that so?” Misfortune said sarcastically.
“Yes, they have a handful of farmers and Strom’s mercenaries. I would say when the weather breaks, the mercenary commander will abandon the peasants to their fate. There is no coin in fighting for a lost cause.”
“So you think you won then.”
“I know I have.”
Tragedy folded her arms. “I have already warned you about Strom, so I won’t do it again. We will simply leave you to your destiny, my good baron.”
“Tell Vanguard he has my thanks for the assistance he has given me. If he needs an ally, then I am here
. I just won’t allow him to pull my strings again.”
Tragedy nodded thoughtfully. The creature still had not learned his lesson, but it mattered little now. “I see. Well, we are off. I doubt we will ever meet again, Alexis.”
“Don’t be so sure, milady.” Serban grinned.
The sorceress smirked. “Unfortunately, I am quite sure.”
* * *
The wizard slowly made his way out of the dark cave. It had taken much longer than he expected to bring down the strange elvish wards. His mother’s people possessed a far stronger magic than any human sorcery, though he had managed to overcome it all the same.
Tavantis was quite proud of the accomplishment. There were very few casters who could break through the protection spells of the ancient elven wizards, but then, he had always been an overachiever.
Pulling the stone from the pouch at his side, he beheld its beauty once again. The green diamond was a little larger than an egg. Whoever cut the gem had been a master. The facets were exquisite, and the jewel’s luster was unmatched by any stone he had ever seen. What drew his attention the most was the power he could feel emanating from the stone. Tavantis could only hope that the Star’s strength would be enough.
A quick check told the wizard that spells he had cast on it were still in place. After he left the tomb, it would be too late to do anything to protect his prize.
The cave he had discovered led to the last resting place of some elven lord or king. There had been no crest or writing for him to decipher in the tomb, so who had been laid to rest with the Star was a mystery, but they must have been someone important. There was a great deal of gold and precious items entombed with the corpse. Tavantis planned to return later to loot the place. No sense wasting all that treasure on a corpse, and after all, the dead were not known to need large sums of gold anyway.
Tavantis squinted into the light as he emerged from the hidden grave. He was not surprised to find his patron waiting as he surfaced from the tomb. In fact, he had been expecting it.
The Star Of Saree Page 33
