Dina would have a field day here.
The path ended in a large circle. A stream ran in a ring, sectioning off the center of the path into a round island. A single vala tree grew in the circle, not one of the massive thousand-year old giants, but a more recent planting. Its trunk was barely four feet wide. It spread its dark branches bearing blood red leaves over the water of the stream and the small stone table with two chairs, one empty and the other occupied by Lady Ilemina.
Here we go. Maud walked across the stone bridge. The older woman looked at her.
“So you’ve made it after all. Excellent.”
Maud bowed and took her seat. A plate was already set in front of her. A large platter held an assortment of fried foods and an assortment of meats and fruit on small skewers. Finger foods. A tall glass pitcher offered green wine.
Ilemina leaned back in her chair, sitting sideways, one long leg over the other, her left arm resting in the table. Up close, the resemblance between her and Arland was unmistakable. Same hair, same determined look in the blue eyes, same stubborn angle of the jaw. A lunch with a krahr.
“Your face was thoughtful as you walked the path,” Ilemina asked.
How much to say? “I was thinking about my sister.”
“Oh?”
“When the three of us, my brother, my sister, and I, were growing up in our parents’ inn, each of us was responsible for a specific area of the inn, in addition to our general chores. Dina’s was gardens. She would love it here.”
“What was yours?”
“Stables.”
“I would’ve never guessed. You have no mount or pet.”
“There weren’t many opportunities for pets during Karhari.”
“And before that?” Ilemina asked.
She had to set some boundaries. “Before that is in the past.”
“My brother told me of your findings.” Ilemina picked up a pitcher and filled their glasses.
Maud lifted the glass to her lips and took a small sip of wine. The older woman was watching her carefully.
“We’ve suspected Kozor and Serak of collaborating with the pirates, but to stoop to piracy themselves is base.”
“It’s not unheard of,” Maud pointed out and wished she had bitten her tongue.
“You’re right. But the houses of the Holy Anocracy never preyed on each other without a declaration of war.” Ilemina took a swallow of her wine. “It’s a hefty accusation. I need proof.”
“I understand,” Maud said.
They sipped their wine. The pressure was mounting inside Maud with every passing second.
“You didn’t ask me here to talk about Kozor,” Maud said.
“You’re not very good with silences,” Ilemina said. “Something to work on.”
Maud reached out, took a skewer of small yellow berries, and slid one into her mouth.
“What are your intentions toward my son?” Ilemina asked.
Maud considered the question. What the hell were her intentions?
She settled on honesty. “I don’t know.”
“What’s there to know?” Ilemina fixed her with her stare. “You have feelings for him. You followed him across the void. He has feelings for you. What’s the hold up?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“But it is. You’re both adults. I saw the way you look at him when you forget to guard your face.”
What?
“He asked you to marry him. You said no. What are you waiting for? What is it you want? Wealth? Power? Marry him and you’ll have both.”
She thought Maud was a gold digger. A familiar irritation dug at Maud, like a burr under her foot. “I don’t need Arland to earn a living. I’m the daughter of Innkeepers. I speak a dozen languages. I’m at home at any trade hub. If I wish, I can return to my sister’s inn at any time.”
She could. Given that Dina’s inn had access to Baha-char, the galactic bazaar, if she wanted to take jobs, they would be plentiful, and the pay would be great.
A small triumphant light sparked in Ilemina’s eyes. “And yet here you are. Subjecting yourself to the humiliation of being a human in a vampire house and bearing a blank crest.”
Maud almost bit her tongue.
“Clearly, a strong bond pulled you across space.”
Maud said nothing.
“Do you love my son? Ilemina asked.
“Yes.” The answer came with surprising ease.
Ilemina stared at her. “Then do something about it.”
Maud opened her mouth and clicked it shut.
“It’s a problem that has a straightforward solution. There is no need to make a hissot out of it.”
Fantastic. Her might be mother in law just compared her feelings to a mating ball of wriggling snakes.
“It’s not just me,” Maud said quietly.
Ilemina leaned forward. “Do you honestly think your child would fare better on Earth? She has killed, Maud. She has fangs. That’s a vampire child if I ever saw one. We can do something with her. Humans can do nothing. You will have to hide her for the rest of her life. Can you do that to your daughter?”
“What do you want from me?” Maud growled.
“I want to get to the bottom of this. So stop pretending to be an idiot and tell me what’s holding you back, because my son is miserable and I’m tired of watching the two of you.”
“I’ve been on the planet for three days!”
“Three days is plenty. What is it you want, Maud of the Innkeepers?”
“I want Helen to be happy.”
Ilemina sighed and drank her wine. “My parents had no use for me when I was growing up. Their House was a war house. There was always a war they were fighting or preparing to fight. They didn’t notice me until I grew enough to be useful. I exerted myself to my fullest, I excelled, I volunteered for every action, just to get a crumb of their attention. When I met my future husband, I was a marshal of their house. I talked to Arland’s father for less than an hour, and I knew I would walk away with him if he asked. For the very first time in my life someone saw me as I was.”
Ilemina smiled. “I did walk away with him and then I fought a war against my parents’ house when they tried to punish me for finding happiness. It was the ultimate act of selfishness on their part. So when my daughter was born, I swore that I wouldn’t be my mother. I paid attention to my child. I was involved in every aspect of her life. I nurtured her, supported her, encouraged her. I trained her. So did my husband. Some might say that my husband and I had neglected our own union for the sake of our daughter and they wouldn’t be wrong.”
Ilemina paused, tracing the rim of her glass with her finger. “When my daughter was twenty-two years old, she met a knight and fell in love. He was everything I could ever wish for in a son-in-law. My heart broke anyway, but I didn’t want to stand in her way. She married him. She lives halfway across the Galaxy and visits once every year or two. Arland was ten years old when she left. He barely knows her. I have grandchildren I almost never see.”
Maud had no idea what to say, so she stayed silent.
“Children leave,” Ilemina told her. “It is the greatest tragedy of motherhood that if you have done everything right, if you have raised them in confidence and independence, they will pick up and leave you. It is as it’s meant to be. One day Helen will leave.”
Anxiety pierced Maud. She swallowed, trying to keep it under wraps.
“If you try to hold and restrain her, you will be committing an irreparable sin. We shouldn’t hobble our young. We do not cut their claws. One day it will be just you, Maud.”
“I understand,” Maud murmured. Thinking about it hurt.
“Where do you see yourself when that day comes?” Ilemina asked.
She knew where she wanted to be but getting there was so complicated.
“So I’ll ask again. What is it you’re afraid of? Are you trying to out-vampire us, because nothing you do will change the circumstances of your birth. If my son had wanted
a vampire, he has a veritable crowd of women with ancient bloodlines falling all over themselves to love him. Are you ashamed of being a human? Do you hate your species?”
Maud raised her head. “I have no desire to pretend I’m a vampire.”
“Then what is it?” Ilemina raised her voice.
Something inside Maud snapped like a thin glass rod breaking.
“House Ervan threw me away. They threw my daughter away like we were old rags. We had no value to them outside of my husband. They didn’t fight to keep us. They wanted to be rid of us. All this time we lived among them and they lied to my face. I can’t take that chance again. I won’t. I can’t invest into building another new life and have it be ripped away from me. I don’t want to be here. I don’t trust you. If I had my way, I would spend my whole life never stepping a foot onto a Holy Anocracy planet, but I can’t let him go. I’ve tried. So I decided to fight for him. I have to ensure that you will never turn on me. I don’t want Arland to marry an outsider, who is barely tolerated. I want him to marry someone who is valued by his House. Someone who is indispensable. I want that marriage to be seen as a win for House Krahr, so my daughter will have a place here not because of your son, but because of me.”
She’d said too much. Where did it even come from? She had no idea that’s what she wanted until the words came out of her.
Screw it. She said and she fucking meant it. Every damn word.
Silence lay between them. A light breeze stirred the vala trees.
Ilemina arched her eyebrows and took a sip of her wine. “Now that? That, I understand.”
Maud marched across the bridge, fuming. She’d let Ilemina get under her skin. It was a strategic error. Understanding your opponent was the most important advantage one could have in a conflict. Numbers, strengths, and luck mattered, but if you knew how your opponent thought, you could predict her strategy and prepare.
She’d given Arland’s mother enough ammunition to manipulate her. Stupid. So stupid.
What the hell was she thinking? Baring her soul to a damn vampire.
The memory of kneeling before Stangiva and begging for Helen’s life, stabbed her, hot and sharp. If only she could get her hands on that bitch, she would’ve snapped her former mother-in-law’s neck. And to think she spent years trying to mold herself into a perfect vampire wife for the sake of Melizard, and his mother, and their whole damn House. She’s twisted herself into a pretzel to become exceptional in every way, all so she could be paraded before the visitors with an unspoken context of “Look what an exemplary House we are. We have taken a human and shaped her into a vampire. Listen to her recite the ancient sagas. Watch her perform for your amusement.”
And she, she was the idiot who had willingly put on that bridle and dragged the cart forward. For what? For love?
She laughed at herself, and the sound came out sharp and brittle.
Love. How could she have been so young and stupid?
Ugh. Rage coursed through her. Maud wanted desperately to punch something.
A sharp chittering sound made her turn. She’d come to a T-shaped junction. On her right another bridge branched from the first at a perfect right angle. The end of the bridge led onto another garden plateau. Trees and shrubs obscured her view, but Maud was absolutely sure what she just heard. A high pitched, short bark of a lees in backed into a corner.
She turned and jogged down the bridge into the garden. Nuan Cee’s Clan were invited guests of the Krahr. No harm could come to them on Krahr’s watch.
Voices carried from up ahead. She couldn’t quite make them out, but she heard the intonation well enough: male, vampire, arrogant. She rounded the bend. In front of her a straight stretch of the path led to a round plaza with a small fountain in the center. In the plaza, closest to the entrance from the path, stood a small, blue-furred lees and a tachi. The lees was on her toes, ready to bolt. The tachi had gone so grey, it looked desaturated. Across from them four male vampires stood. Two leaned forward slightly, the third one stroked the hilt of his bloodhammer, and the fourth crossed his arms on his chest. She’d been studying the files on the wedding guests, and she had no trouble recognizing him. Lord Suykon, the groom’s brother. Big, red-haired, and aggressive.
They were about to get violent. The tachi would retaliate and relations between the tachi and House Krahr would drown in blood. She had no authority to stop it. She was just another guest. If she were attacked, the tachi would jump in. She was sure of it. She’d served food to their queen and was looked on with favor. The tachi would be honor-bound to assist her against a mutual threat.
She had to avoid violence and delay. It would be near impossible. She was a human, and in the vampire eyes, she belonged to Arland but had no status. If anything, her presence would only provoke.
Maud tapped her crest. The thin stalk of a communicator slid from her armor and split in two. One tendril reached into her ear, the other to her mouth. The crest pulsed with white light, letting her know the camera was activated.
“Arland?”
There was a slight pause, then he answered. “Here.”
“Tap into my feed.”
There was another tiny pause. Syukon said something. The vampire next to him laughed. Maud picked up speed.
The lees screeched, the sharpness in her voice making her sound like a pissed off squirrel.
Arland’s crisp voice spoke into her ear piece. “Backup on the way.”
Her personal unit chimed, announcing incoming message. Maud tapped it. A contract that made her an official retainer of House Krahr. She scrolled, spot searching for the right words.
… military service, to be performed as is deemed necessary by the marshal…
He just hired her as a mercenary, giving her the same authority as any knight of the House.
“Accept,” she said.
Dizziness punched her as her updated crest interfaced with the armor. It only took a moment. Arland must’ve preloaded the House interface onto the crest before he’d given it to her and now it was activated.
Her crest flashed with red. A third tendril sprouted from the stalk, projecting a screen over her left eye. On it an icon of House Krahr glowed dimly in the far corner. Next to it, another icon, a tiny banner, waited.
This man. For this man, she would put up with Ilemina. He was worth it.
Maud marched into the clearing. Her eyepiece tagged the lees, displaying her name above her head in pale letters. Nuan Tooki. The tachi was Ke’Lek.
“Behold, a human comes!” a dark-haired vampire declared. Her eyepiece tagged him with a name. Lord Kurr. Now that she was retainer, the internal files were at her fingertips.
Nuan Tooki ducked behind her, stuck her hand-paws into the pockets of her apron, and came out with a handful of darts in her left hand and a small dagger in her right. Monomolecular edge on both, likely poisoned.
Ke’Lek’s color darkened slightly, but only a shade, a barely perceptible green.
Suykon smiled.
Maud moved in front of the tachi, looked at the banner and deliberately blinked to activate the banner.
The crest tolled, like a bell. A bright red spark blinked on her left shoulder, projecting a holographic image of the banner of House Krahr. She gripped her bloodsword, and it whined in her hand as bright red light dashed through it, priming the weapon.
The banner glowed slightly brighter.
“And what have we here?” Suykon asked. “Adorable, is she not?”
Anything she said would give them am opportunity to claim she provoked them. Any word would be presented as an insult and used as a pretext for violence. She simply said nothing.
“Are you mute, human?”
Maud waited.
Suykon’s eyes narrowed.
“Lord Kurr.”
“Yes?” the dark-haired knight asked.
“I think our lady is in distress. Look at her being menaced by those two outsiders. You should go and rescue her.”
The tachi moved for
ward.
Maud activated the banner again. Her crest projected a red line onto the ground and tossed the prewritten warning onto her eyepiece. She read it. “You are guests of House Krahr in the presence of a knight of House Krahr. Any violence against other guests of House Krahr will be met with immediate retribution. Cross this line and die.”
Ke’Lek clicked his mouth in disappointment and stepped back. The line cut both ways.
Lord Kurr chuckled.
Her eyepiece scanned him, highlighting a long, slightly glossy streak on the left side of his armor. A recent patch job, and not very good one. Patching armor was as much of an art as science, and it took a light touch. He’d been heavy-handed with the tools. He should’ve let someone who knew what they were doing repair it, but armor maintenance was a point of pride. It was a small target, less than a quarter of an inch wide. She would’ve missed it without the eyepiece.
“This is the only warning you will receive.”
“My fair maiden,” Kurr roared, pulling out a massive blood sword. “I shall rescue you.”
Kurr charged.
The moment his foot crossed the line, she dropped to one knee. His blade slid over her shoulder, screeching against her armor. She thrust her sword into the patch and twisted. The armor cracked with an audible snap. The nanothreads contracted, ripping themselves apart.
Sweep of the Blade Page 13
