Tellis was breathing like he had ran a marathon. A bruise darkened his left cheek. The armor over his left forearm had lost integrity, turning dull.
Arland dropped his buckler and attacked. His mace whistled through the air. Tellis blocked, letting the blow glance from his right sword and stabbed with his left. The blade sliced a hair above Arland’s right shoulder. Arland lunged forward and punched Tellis. It was a devastating left cross. Tellis stumbled and Arland brought his mace onto Tellis’ left arm. The groom shied back. Arland swung again and Tellis danced away.
They circled the battle field, Tellis fast and agile, Arland unstoppable like a tank on a rampage.
They made a full circle.
Tellis kept backing up. Arland stalked him, but the other knight never let him get within reach.
Arland stopped and waited. Tellis stopped too.
The lawn was silent.
Arland took a step forward. Tellis took a step back.
Otubar called out, “It’s not a dance. Fight or get off the field.”
Tellis looked at the eight bodies lying on the grass. Some moaned, others simply laid still. His eyes were wide and glassy. Maud had seen that look before. It was the look of someone who had seen his own death. Tellis had forgotten that this wasn’t a real battle field. The urge to survive had taken over. He had nowhere to go. Back was dishonor, forward was Arland, pain, and death. So, like the bodies on the grass, Tellis held still, too.
Arland shrugged his massive shoulders, powered down his mace, turned his back to Tellis, and walked off the field. Maud let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.
He stopped by the table, beat up and splattered with blood, and looked at her. You could hear a pin drop.
“We didn’t finish our discussion, my lady.”
Oh, she was more than ready to have a discussion. It would feature topics like Why the hell would you let nine knights pummel you? and What were you thinking? If he were bleeding internally, this was the only way for him to make a graceful exit. She had to get him out of here and out of that armor.
Maud rose, aware of every stare. “In that case, my lord, I suggest we retire to your quarters, so we may carry out our debate in private.”
“I’d be delighted.” Arland extended his hand towards the path.
Maud bowed her head to Ilemina and Otubar. “My apologies.”
Ilemina waved at her. “Think nothing of it, my dear.”
Maud started down the path, aware of Arland only a step behind her.
“Ahh, young love,” Ilemina’s voice floated to her. “Where is our medic?”
As soon as they got to the tower and the door slid shut behind them, Arland swayed and sagged against the wall. “You’re such an idiot,” she whispered through clenched teeth.
Arland smiled. “Maybe. But I won.”
Ugh. She had no idea how badly he was hurt. He probably didn’t know how badly he was hurt. They had to get him out of the armor. She could just pull it off him here. Every House crest contained the basic supplies necessary for emergency medical intervention. But if she took the crest off him now and applied it, he would have to remain stationary in this tower. They had to climb the stairs, cross the bridge, and get to either his room or hers and they had to do it with Kozor and Serak watching. Any show of weakness would dilute Arland’s victory.
The value of the beating he delivered wasn’t in humiliation of Kozor and Serak. It was in fear and uncertainty. Both House Kozor and Serak came to the fight reasonably sure what to expect. They had done their research, they had watched the fight in the Lodge, and they expected Arland to be a superior fighter. They didn’t expect him to be invincible. If he had been carried off the field by medics or had limped away obviously hurt, they could quantify it. “We almost beat him with nine knights, we can kill him with ten.” But he had crushed them and walked away like it was nothing. Now they didn’t know how many knights it would take, and they didn’t know how many Arlands House Krahr could field. They feared what they couldn’t see and didn’t know. Arland had to appear invulnerable.
She slid her shoulder under his arm. He leaned on her. His weight settled on her and her knees almost buckled. It was bad. He wouldn’t have put that much weight on her if he could have helped it. He had to be on his last legs.
Arland bared his fangs, his face grim. “Stairs.”
“One at a time, my lord.”
They staggered up the stairs.
“The Road Lodge offered me seven,” she growled in her best Arland voice.
“It’s true.”
“That was different. The fight in the Lodge was a brawl against bandits and scumbags in outdated armor. You could kill them. You went up against nine knights in prime condition, in good armor, and you couldn’t kill any of them without ruining the wedding. You went into the fight with one arm tied behind your back. Who does that?”
“Well, sure, it sounds unwise when you put it like that. But I won.”
They paused on the landing. His breath was coming out in ragged gasps.
“Do you feel cold or drowsy?” she asked.
“I’m not bleeding out.”
“Well, we don’t know that, do we?”
“I would know.”
“Shut up.”
He grinned at her.
“What?”
“We’re like we were before. At the inn.”
She glanced at his face. “Beat to hell and bleeding out on the stairs?”
“No. You are talking to me again. Really talking to me. You’ve been so… distant since you arrived. I like when we’re like this.”
They started up the second flight of steps.
“If I had to fight nine knights every week…”
“Don’t say it,” she warned him.
“…to keep you talking to me…”
“I will throw you down the stairs, Arland. I mean it.”
“No, you won’t. You like me. You are impressed.”
She rolled her eyes. “That you can’t walk, unassisted, up a flight of stairs? Yes, my lord, very impressive.”
He grunted and swayed. For a moment they tottered on the last step, careening back and forth, and she thought they would lose their balance, but they pitched forward and conquered the final stair.
“As I was saying,” Arland said, a sheen of sweat covering his face, “if I had to fight nine knights every week for the pleasure of you berating me, I would do it gladly.”
“You are an idiot. I abandoned my sister and a perfectly good inn and traveled half way across the galaxy for an idiot.”
The door slid open in front of them. The breezeway stretched in front of them, suffused with sunshine and impossibly long. They would be watched by the vampires on the lawn for every step of it.
Arland grunted again, gently pushed away from her, and stood on his own.
“You can do it,” she told him and slid her arm in the crook of his elbow.
They walked into the sunlight side by side, as if out for a leisurely stroll.
“If I fall, don’t try to catch me,” he warned.
“You are not that heavy.”
“Yes, I am.”
They kept strolling. One step at a time.
One step.
Another.
Another.
“Did it have to be nine? Couldn’t it have been five?” She knew the answer but talking would distract him.
“It had to be more than there was at the Lodge. Beating seven again wouldn’t be as exciting. I already did that.”
“You make me despair, my lord. Is there no common sense in your head? None at all?”
He gave her a dazzling smile. “No, not right now.”
Maud sighed. “Figures.”
“You should stay with me. Here. You and Helen. Don’t leave me. I don’t want you to go.”
Her heart sped up.
“Marry me, or not, I will take what you’re willing to give me. Don’t leave.”
There it was. He just
came out and said it. He went for it. She had to give him an answer and this time it couldn’t be a maybe. “Lord Arland?”
He sighed quietly, his voice resigned. “Yes, my lady?”
“I’m not going anywhere, you fool. You are mine. But if you decide to fight nine random knights again because you want to make a statement, I swear I will leave you bleeding right there and walk away.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Yes, I will.”
“How about this: next time you can help.”
She swore, and he laughed. Slowly and deliberately they walked together across the breezeway.
Twenty feet from the fork in the hallway that led to both their rooms, Arland’s personal unit chimed. He glanced at it and continued. She was almost carrying him now. The unit chimed again and again. “Soren,” Arland told her.
They reached the spot where the hallway split. They had a choice, his room or hers. Soren likely had a direct channel to Arland’s quarters with priority access. If they went to Arland’s room, they would get no peace.
“Does Lord Soren have an override code to my quarters?” she asked.
“No.”
She turned right, to her rooms, and he went with her. The last fifty feet of the hallway was pure torture. Her knees shook and her back burned from the strain.
The door whispered open. They stumbled through and it slid shut behind them. His full weight hit her. His face had gone blank and almost soft. He was done.
“Bathroom,” she squeezed out, “we have to get you into the bathroom.”
His face jerked, and he staggered to the bathroom, fueled by pure will.
“Medbed!” she ordered as they crossed the threshold.
A shelf shot out of the wall and she half-lowered, half-dumped Arland on to it. He landed on his back, his mane of blond hair fanning over the bed. His right leg hung off the edge. Maud heaved it on to the shelf.
Arland tapped his chest. The syn armor cracked along its seams, pieces of it falling off. Maud pulled parts of the breastplate off him, dropping them on the floor.
“First aid kit!”
A tray slid out of the wall, offering the usual vampire assortment of stimulants, antibiotics, wound sealants, and anesthetics. She got the last piece off of him. Arland was built like a vampire hero of legend. Saying that he had broad shoulders, chiseled chest, and a washboard stomach didn’t do him justice. He was big. There was really no better word for it. Hard, powerful muscle sheathed his massive frame. When you looked at him, you saw pure force in physical form. Arland was mighty. A large, athletic human male would look like a fragile teenager next to him.
All of that muscle came with a price. He had endurance and could deliver bursts of devastating power, but he couldn’t run for hours the way Sean, her sister’s boyfriend, did. Sean, being an alpha strain werewolf, had almost unlimited speed and stamina. Arland was designed to stand his ground. And that’s exactly what he had done. His entire left side was an oblong bruise. His right biceps bled in two places, where something had punctured the armor. His right hip had turned dark red, the result of blunt force trauma. He’d gotten hit in the back too, but she would deal with it later.
Maud took a smooth nutrient cartridge from the tray, slid it into the injector with practiced ease, found a vein on his left arm, and shot it. Vampires healed faster than humans, but they also required a lot of fuel to do it.
“Scanner.”
A mechanical appendage slid from the wall with two prongs about eight inches apart. She pulled it forward, positioning the prongs horizontally over the bruise on Arland’s left side. A screen shimmered into existence between the prongs, showing her the black and silver view of Arland’s bones. Two hair-line fractures. Not great, but not awful. She had half expected to find broken ribs puncturing vital organs. If he had been human, she would have.
Maud moved the scanner to his right arm. Whatever punctured it had missed the major blood vessels. The bleeding had already slowed.
His right hip was next.
“A little to the left and down,” he said, his voice quiet.
“Do keep in mind that I have a whole tray of tranquilizers.”
“That would be nice, too.”
The pain killers would have to wait until she finished evaluating the extent of his injuries.
The hip offered her a muscle contusion, bruised bone, and hematoma. A lump had formed as a pool of blood saturated the injured tissue. It hurt like hell, which had contributed to him limping, but wasn’t fatal.
She grasped his shoulders. “I need you to sit up.”
He sat upright. She moved the scanner over his back. He’d taken the blow on his left shoulder blade. Fractured scapula. Crap.
“Lift your left arm.”
Arland raised his arm a couple of inches out to his side and stopped. “No.”
“Does it hurt to breathe?”
“I’ve had worse.”
“You need a medic.”
“I’m fine.”
Human, vampire, werewolf, didn’t matter. If they were male and severely injured, they all thought they could just “walk it off.”
“Take a deep breath, my lord.”
“We’re back to ‘my lord,’” Arland said dryly.
Right. Misdirection was a wonderful strategy, when it worked. Maud smiled and clapped her hand on his back. Arland jerked forward, sucking in a sharp breath.
She plucked a heavy-duty pain reliever cartridge from the tray. It would knock him out, which was the best thing she could do for him.
“No,” he said. “I don’t want to be sedated. It will make me slow and sleepy. I don’t have time for a nap.”
“You have a fractured scapula and two cracked ribs. You have lost the full use of your arm and every breath is torture. You need some quality time with a bone knitter.”
“Maud,” he said.
“No. You are not a teenager. We both know you require sedation and a visit to a medward. Why are we even having this con…”
He reached out with his left arm and caught her wrist in his fingers, drawing her close. Suddenly they were face to face and he was looking at her. His eyes were very blue.
It would have been easy to pull away. A part of her, the one that panicked and kept her alive on Karhari, warned her to be cautious. But she was so damn tired of being careful and prudent. Something wild swept through her like a scorching sariv. She kissed him. His lips were warm on hers and she opened her mouth and let him in. He tasted just as she imagined, hot and male, and he kissed her like she was the only thing that mattered. It started tender, then turned hungry, as if they both couldn’t get enough. Her whole body strummed with need. He kissed her until she could think of nothing except stripping off her clothes and climbing on top of him to feel him against her skin.
They broke apart. His eyes had turned dark. She saw raw, naked lust in his face, and it thrilled her.
“Looks like I have some use of my left arm,” he said.
“It does,” she said and emptied the cartridge of sedative into his back.
Maud stared at the display projecting from her personal unit. The medic didn’t answer, which wasn’t unusual. Medics often ignored direct calls because they were occupied, and Arland’s handiwork on the lawn guaranteed the medical staff would be busy. But after calling him directly, Maud had tried the medward and hadn’t received an answer either. That didn’t happen. There was always someone in the medward.
She had to find some way to get Arland to the medward. Leaving him alone wasn’t an option. He was sedated and had to be under observation. Besides, his injuries needed to be treated. They weren’t life threating, but they were urgent.
She tried the medward again.
No answer. What the hell?
She could try Soren. Arland was ducking his uncle, but given that he was peacefully sleeping, Soren couldn’t exactly bug him with whatever duties Arland had been avoiding. She tried Lord Soren.
No answer.
A co
ld heavy weight landed in her stomach and rolled around. Something was wrong. Something bad happened or was happening.
Helen.
Maud snapped a brisk order. “Helen, priority override.” The parental override would pierce through whatever Helen was doing. It would interrupt a video, or another call, and it would supersede a silence setting.
No answer.
Panic hit her in an icy rush. She used logic to surf the wave of fear, keeping on top of it. Either nobody was answering her calls, or her personal unit had been jammed. If someone was jamming her calls, it meant only one thing. An attack was coming.
A door chime, normally soothing, lashed her senses. Maud unsheathed her sword, priming it. The blood blade screeched.
Another chime.
“Show me,” she ordered.
A screen ignited above the door, showing the hallway and Karat, alone. Karat’s face was paler than usual, her expression tight, her eyes focused. Only House Krahr had enough power and resources to jam her unit. She was on their communication grid. The other vampire houses didn’t have access to this part of the castle, and they didn’t have the capabilities to penetrate the House communication network and isolate her, specifically.
She and Karat were friendly. If House Krahr had turned on her, that’s exactly who they would send.
“Audio,” Maud said. The audio icon flashed in the corner of the screen. “Yes?”
“Open the door,” Karat said.
“I’m indisposed at the moment. Can it wait?”
“It’s an emergency.”
Sure it is. “What sort of emergency?”
“Maud, we don’t have time for this.” Karat put her hand against the door. “Command override.”
The door slid open. Maud backed away, putting herself between Karat and Arland, giving herself room to work.
“Put that away!” Karat waved her hand. “You have to come with me. Something bad happened to Helen.”
“What?”
“She’s been poisoned.”
Sweep of the Blade Page 16
