"There's fire born too. Caimbeul"
"He's dead."
Rage flushed Lokynen's face. How?"
"He was ambushed in his home. Sa'necari and lycans."
"I'll wring someone's neck for that."
"I'm sure you will. Do you know if Dynanna is going to appear?"
Lokynen nodded. She's supposed to be."
"Toniqua is my main contact. The Guild is going after the Serpent. We owe him for the murder of one of our agents, a lycan named Dyllys. She got too close and he rited her. That makes it personal."
A broad nasty grin spread over Lokynen's ugly face. Someone is in a lot of trouble."
A small knock came at the door and Lokynen frowned, irritated by the thought of more company when no one was even supposed to know that he had returned yet. He opened the door and Bodisaniwi waltzed inside.
"Hiya, Lokynen! I was just ... oooooh, that's some cat you got there!"
Lokynen glanced and saw that Kerry had resumed his tiger cat form, curled up licking his paws with an insouciant air. His name is Kerry."
"I been needing a cat. In fact, he's perfect."
Before Lokynen could stop him, Bodi had scooped Kerry up and raced out with him.
Kerry squirmed out of Bodi's arms, dropped to the ground and backed away, hissing. I've had quite enough of this lately."
Bodi blinked. You talk. Are you a catkin?"
"Hardly. Kerry shimmered into his human form. I'm Shivari. Tigerkin."
To prove his point, he shifted shape again and became a five hundred pound tiger.
Bodi's eyes bugged. I gotta show you to Cooley."
Kerry changed back to a form in which he could comfortably discuss matters with the child. You're not showing me to anyone. I have a job to do."
"Did Dyna send you here? She sent us."
Kerry knew Dyna in several of her guises and realization struck him between the eyes. You're not a child at all. You're Badree Nym."
"Me and my big mouth. Bodi sucked in a sharp breath and sat down on a large rock.
"Explain yourself, little one. Just what game are you running for the Trickster?"
"The assignment is to protect a cub from the Butchering Serpent."
"What's so special about the cub?"
"He's the son of Dawnreturning."
That got Kerry's immediate attention and interest. The Guild owes him several debts. Tell me more."
* * * *
Rachel Wiggins had made herself a necklace of rowan twigs. When she felt the first pull of the come-hither from Malthus, she placed it around her neck and went to the basement of the Difficult Horse. It muted his summons. She knew he would come after her if she failed to go to him and had decided that she would never be free so long as she lived. Melisande's decision had to be her own.
She went to a corner and dug behind a pile of grain sacks for the things she had hidden there earlier. She came out with a rope that had a strong noose in it. Rachel threw the rope over a rafter and moved a chair beneath it. She climbed onto the chair, put the noose around her throat, and kicked the chair away.
* * * *
Betrys bedroom above the shop was cozy. The curtains on her windows matched her quilt in shades of sea green. Her bed was large with sturdy posts. She threw back the covers, turned, and unlaced her bodice. Her white breasts appeared, their roseate nipples erect and ready, crying to be touched.
Panting with nervousness, Artair watched Betrys undressing and half-considered locking himself in the closet. I'm not certain I can do this."
"What? She shoved her skirts to the floor and stepped out of them.
Artair swallowed, patted his loins, and pointed at her. I was going to be a priest. Celibacy, poverty, asceticism."
"Virgin?"
Artair nodded.
"Don't worry. It's not hard to do and I've read lots of naughty books."
Having never read a naughty book in his life, Artair did not find that information comforting. He undressed, stared for a moment at his jutting erection, and flushed all the way to his navel. Once more he considered retreating to the closet at the thought of putting his cock inside her. Artair had always winced away from the randy talk of his brothers and their friends for whom bedroom conquests were a hot topic among the unmarried.
Betrys reclined on the bed with her legs spread and crooked a finger at him.
Artair climbed onto the bed between her legs and looked closely at her womanhood, spreading it open with his fingers and exploring. I always wondered what one looked like."
"Put it in and we'll figure it out from there. Betrys heaved a loud sigh.
"Right. Artair grasped his cock and pushed it into her. It felt warm, wet, tight, and marvelous. He moaned in pleasure. Oh, that's wonderful."
"Now move it in and out or something."
"Right."
Betrys sighed again. This was not how she had envisioned her wedding night and it looked to be a long one. Tomorrow you must start reading the naughty books."
Then she proceeded to explain to him what to do based on her reading.
* * * *
Oswyl shivered, balled up in a corner of his bed.
"Get your cloak on, we're going drinking. Shalto glared at his cousin.
"Not going. Oswyl pulled the blankets around himself, looking more like a frightened cub than a grown dog.
The argument had gone on for over an hour. Shalto made a disparaging noise and stomped out of the longhouse.
Alone, Oswyl could hear every creak of settling wood in the house. Outside the screech of an owl portended its strike as some small creature fell prey to its claws. Oswyl straightened with a flinch. Wind rattled the shutters and soughed around the building.
"Look at what you did. The voice sounded at one removed from the world of flesh, accusing and hostile.
"No. Oswyl protested, clenching his eyes shut as if what he did not see could not hurt him. I'm sorry. I didn't want to do it."
Fingers as cold as the touch of death stroked Oswyl's cheek. His eyes snapped open with a shriek.
Caimbeul's mutilated ghost shimmered in the darkness, torn and bloody, his entrails hanging from his slit belly. It hurts to die like that, Oswyl. So much pain."
Oswyl shook his head in denial. I didn't want to. I apologized. You heard me."
"Empty words and meaningless actions."
"No. No, I meant it. I did."
"We're the voice of your guilt, Oswyl, said a new voice.
He shifted on the bed to see the slender bitch. Who are you?"
"Granta Softpaws. I've brought my friends to visit."
Oswyl screamed as the room filled with ghostly forms he recognized: Ramsey Fitzgerald, Eideard Doyle, Cullen Blackwood, the priest Tempest Anstey, Nikko Softpaws, and Odhran Lafferty. Oswyl shrieked in terror of the apparitions.
"I didn't do it."
"Guilt by association, Oswyl. You killed us all, said Nikko.
Oswyl ran from the house and stood howling in the drifting snow.
Vika emerged from her longhouse, wrapped in a heavy shawl. Oswyl?"
He howled again.
Vika put her arm around him and led him into her home. She sat him down in front of the hearth and got some poppy milk from the cupboard. She filled a dosing glass and put it in his hands. You're having nightmares or something. This will help."
She wrapped him up and put him to bed on her sofa.
CHAPTER TWENTY
THE PEDDLER
A heavily laden wagon, drawn by four stout ponies, halted at the far side of the sturdy wooden bridge over the Eirlys cataract. Five children of various ages rode on top of the crates and chests in the back, while a little old mon drove with a younger mon beside her. The ponies stood tossing their heads impatiently when she reined them in and waited for permission to cross.
The seven lycan guards dashed out, followed by Pandeena, who alternated with other members of the Civilian Watch, whose main job was to help determine who should and should not be allow
ed into Red Wolf.
"What is it you wish? Pandeena asked, nibbling on her lower lip to prevent a smile escaping. The Trickster had finally arrived.
"I am Dyna, a peddler. I acquired these orphans in the course of my travels and it is getting too dangerous to continue with them. I have heard you give sanctuary to children and their guardians here."
"Are they sa'necari children? Pandeena asked the next required question and had to fight even harder at keeping her face still. Around her, the wolves had changed to nude, hairy males in their hybrid forms.
The little girl on the wagon flicked her marmalade hair back and stared at the crotches of the seven males. Hmmmmmn. So that's what one looks like. Now I know why it's called poking."
Frozbie swiveled on the seat and spun Sugar Maple around. Don't stare. Just because lycans are savages, doesn't mean you should be."
"Human, Dynanna replied. Frozbie here is their uncle. Human also. I'm granny to some of them."
"Are you sa'necari?"
"Who me? Naaaah. Human."
"Come across."
The ponies pulled hard in their traces and the wagon rolled onto the bridge, which creaked under the weight to an alarming degree. Pandeena frowned at the sound of it, wondering what Dynanna could possibly be carrying in the wagon.
"What are you laden with?"
"Oh, this and that, all wondrous and fine. From swords to twine and some of it magic. Oh, yes, many fine magical things. And all of it quite cheap. Good quality all. Have a look at my wares and call them fair, Dynanna said in the singsong voice of an aged fishwife.
"I will, said Pandeena. You'll live in one of the sheelings until we can get a house up. That means we'll have to split some of you up."
"No need. I've brought my own. Ayup, I certainly have."
"It's getting cold here, so if you've brought tents, that won't do."
Dynanna chuckled, and rubbed her forefinger beneath her nose. Now, I'll need a lot of space before I put my house in place."
Pandeena took her to the sanctuary and by that time, they had acquired a following of the curious, for Dynanna was clearly a peddler and few goods had come in from the outside in months. The war had shut down many of the roads that travelers and merchants used to reach from the west, the Waejontori side, and Wolffgard Village had not seen one in many weeks. Having a peddler arrive was marvelous.
Malthus stood talking to Shalto and Oswyl near a storehouse. He fell into step behind them as Pandeena directed the newcomer to a cleared bit of land halfway between his cottage and the main camp.
"You can put up a house over there. Will that be enough space?"
"Thanks. Dynanna set the break and dismounted from the wagon. We'll have it up in next to no time."
Stout, matronly and gray-haired, Vika Softpaws came around. If you need help, just ask anyone who works in the Sanctuary."
Dynanna nodded and started rummaging in her satchel. Don't need help, but thanks."
She sat on the ground with what appeared to be a child's play set with houses and figures. Her hand went to the largest house that looked like a spired cathedral. Nope, not that one. I don't have permission to put up a temple. Then she rummaged again and came out with a nice two-story house. She walked around the plot, gauging the trees and such for obstacles and then set the house down in the perfect center. Open up!"
The toy house began to expand and everyone moved rapidly away as it grew. Adults and children from the sanctuary gathered, watching in awe, and exclaiming over the miracle.
Malthus strode up and stared. You're a mage?"
"Nope. Dynanna shrugged. I deal in secondhand magical items and this is one. A home you can carry around in your pocket."
"That is impressive. Vika pulled at her braids. But such things are very expensive. This is not a rich valley."
Dynanna gave her a cheeky grin and a wink. I don't charge near as much as one might expect and everything is guaranteed to be what I say it is."
Pandeena closed her eyes and shook her head wearily, mentally amending Dynanna's statement: usually . She knew full well that Dynanna sometimes sold thingsor gave them awaywithout first knowing what they did. We have two shops here. The Scarlet Angel Mage shop and Cahira's Potions and Notions. I hope you're not planning on undercutting them."
"Now, would I do a thing like that? Dynanna gave her a reproachful look.
"Yes."
"Oh, okay. I'll go talk to them. Maybe we can work out a consignment deal or something."
Malthus gaze swept the children, his attention attracted to the single girl among them. She was fair-skinned with marmalade hair, a dreamy expression, and a twig broom clutched possessively in one hand. What's your name, little one?"
He bent so he could look eye to eye with her.
"Sugar, replied Sugar Maple, smiling serenely at him as if she dwelled elsewhere even while she looked upon him.
"I'm Malthus. If you should have need of protection, consider me at your disposal. Now I must get back to work."
After Malthus left, Dynanna nudged Sugar Maple. Don't lose your temper, but lycans consider girls your age marriageable."
Sugar Maple smiled, her head tilting. If I were not what I am, he would be handsome."
"Don't decide to cocoon and grow up on me, now, Dynanna whispered. I need you."
"I won't."
Pandeena came closer. Malthus is married to our princess."
"So he's the asshole.... Dynanna straightened with her hands on her hips. Looks just like one to me."
Sugar Maple turned to Dynanna with a wistful sigh of girlish longing. Can I put a tack in his chair?"
Dynanna shrugged. You can drop a tree on him for all I care."
"I'll think about it."
Pieface ran up to them. The pie pans hooked to his belt rattled against his legs. He wore a sheepskin-lined cap with flaps hanging over his ears and a dangling chinstrap. His red hair stuck out around it like a sunburst. Freckles sprinkled his impish nose and round cheeks topped a broad, eager grin like a puppy ready to play.
Pandeena regarded him thoughtfully, her eyes settling on the silver pie pans. If any of them were well equipped to deal with monsters of any stripe, it was Pieface and his Deadly Pie Pans of Doom, which he could throw like a discus with incredible accuracy and they returned to his hands. She had once seen him decapitate a stone troll with them.
"I'm glad you're finally here. Pandeena hugged Dynanna.
"So am I."
* * * *
Kady sat across from Larena at the kitchen table, growing increasingly irritable, and trying to keep her mouth shut so that she did not say something hurtful or awkward. Larena had been having fits of weeping ever since Rachel's body was discovered hanging from the rafters in the basement of the Difficult Horse. Whenever Larena's fits become too violent, Mary sedated her.
Larena dug her palms into her eyes. Why would Rachel do that?"
Mary emerged from the pantry with a bottle and a dosing glass. She measured the proper amount and put it in Larena's hands. Drink this and go to bed."
"A sedative? Larena gave Mary a grateful look.
"Yes."
Kady waited until Larena had taken the sedative and left. I feel strange about this, Mary. Like I've somehow become callous, but I have no tears to shed for Rachel."
"Your family treated you badly."
"Larena was the worst of my sisters. But Rachel joined in more often than not. Kady exhaled heavily, shifting in her chair. Between the pregnancy, Larena's attitude whenever Kynyr was away, and now the weeping fits, Kady felt impossibly tired and irritated. Rachel laughed when she saw Cormic and his buddies snatch me. Told me later I had it coming."
"I understand, Kady. Mary hugged her and then settled into a chair. Toniqua says the child was sa'necari."
"We already knew there was a male sa'necari in Wolffgard. He killed Caimbeul. Malthus came to mind as Kady remembered conversations she had had with Cahira over the past few months. If only there was a way to know f
or certain. Kady straightened abruptly, her hand going to her belly as the cub's movement startled her from her train of thought. I think he objects to the topic of our conversation."
Mary laughed. Then maybe we should change it. When's Kynyr coming home? He's a week overdue."
"I sent Iollen to ask yesterday. All Kynyr said was indefinitely away and I don't like the sound of that. Kady lips compressed in regretful disappointment. I wish he'd just stop by. We're not that far from the manor."
"So you haven't shown him the prophecy yet?"
Kady shook her head. I'm worried about Kynyr. The last time I saw him, he looked so tired."
* * * *
Malthus needed to recruit more myn from among the young wolves who worked at Sanctuary. Either that or seek out the dregs of lycan society at the rougher taverns. One thought led to another and Malthus found himself thinking about the young girl with the marmalade hair. Children did not normally attract him, but there was an air about her that called to him in a way that went beyond her obvious beauty.
The pointed nipples of her pubescent breasts made his hands tingle with desire to touch them. Her ethereal visage begged to be brought down to earth by sinking his cock into the richness of her loins. He fantasized the way she would squirm and writhe and weep beneath his body.
Two things stood between his dreams of reaching the girl: her strange grandmother with second hand magic items that might be capable of anything and her equally strange uncle.
Malthus decided to ask the uncle over to his cottage for a drink and take his measure.
* * * *
Frozbie was lean, dark-skinned, and white-haired. He was also a nympire, one of only two in existence. The other nympire was Drakengrim, currently styling himself simply Drak, one of the five children who had ridden into Wolffgard on Dynanna's wagon.
Before Frozbie had fallen into a trap laid by Drakengrim and his Badree Nym companions, Frozbie had been one of the most feared Lemyari vampires, second only to Brandrahoon himself. Since his transmogrification by Drakengrim, Frozbie mostly consumed pie and milk. His stomach ulcers could not manage most ordinary foods.
Born to the name Frozbrodarbrin, he had been a powerful Waejontori tribal chieftain in the days that Waejonan was first unifying the tribes. Frozbie had thrown in his lot with the three brothers and became one of Brandrahoon the mage's acolytes. When Brandrahoon's corpse was found in the woods, drained of blood, Waejonan had ordered his brother's remains to be hung on the scaffold beside that of Dawnhand. Frozbie and Sergei Wraithsbane had stolen Brandrahoon's corpse and buried him in the forest. Gylorean Galee caught them in the act. Sergei fled, but Galee had cornered Frozbie and offered to make him powerful beyond his dreams. He accepted her offer, and soon lay dead upon the ground beside the grave with Galee's blood in his mouth.
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