Sweep of the Blade

by Ilona Andrews

  Maud kept moving. A refreshing wind pulled at her hair, throwing the short strands in her face. She’d always had a vivid imagination. When they were exiled to Karhari, it caught her by surprise. By then she was used to Melizard’s schemes, but she never expected exile. He was the younger son, the beloved and spoiled. His sins, however grievous, were always forgiven. He always got away with crazy shit. The exile shocked her. From that point on, she expected the worst. If Melizard was delayed, it was because he was dead. If Helen ate a piece of unfamiliar fruit, it was surely poisonous, and she would likely die. If she met strangers on the road, they were assassins sent to kill her. And Karhari had proven her right again and again, feeding her paranoia.

  Now Arland had joined the short list of People Whose Death She Imagined. There were only four names on the list: Helen, Dina, Maud, and now, Arland. She kept waking up, checking on Helen, and when she drifted off, he died in her dreams, and she would jerk awake. A couple of times she got up and prowled on her balcony, like a caged cat.

  If only she could have seen him this morning, if she had touched him and felt the warmth of his body, it would have reassured her that he was alive. She had rolled out of her bed planning to do exactly that. Instead, Karat had barged into her quarters as soon as the sun was up, announced that Ilemina required her presence, and took off.

  They passed through the arched entrance to the Preceptor’s tower.

  “What are we doing today, mama?”

  “Today we’re going on a hunt,” Maud said.

  She’d reviewed the agenda late last night after giving up on getting any sleep. At the core, vampires were a predatory strain of human. They were mostly carnivorous, and hunting was in their blood. Humans had retained some of those primitive memories, too. No matter how civilized they became or how evolved the art of cooking became, nothing beat a piece of meat roasted over a fire.

  The Holy Anocracy was not that civilized. They didn’t bother to make any excuses or to distance themselves from their predatory past. As soon as a vampire House claimed territory, they did two things. They planted a vala tree and they designated hunting grounds.

  House Krahr maintained a huge hunting preserve. Today, at noon, they would be riding through it. Missing the hunt was unthinkable. She could get away with missing games, skipping a formal dinner, even being late to the wedding ceremony, although that last one would require reparations for the offence to the newlyweds. If she missed the hunt, however, the insult to the hosts would be monumental. Even children were brought to the hunt as soon as they were old enough not to fall off the mounts.

  “What kind of hunt?”

  “Do you remember when daddy and I took you to House Kirtin and we rode out to hunt bazophs?”

  It had been one of the rare bright moments in their exile. Melizard had landed a position with a stable House and for two months they had a brief taste of normal Anocracy life. And then he had punched the Kirtin Marshal and it all ended.

  Helen’s eyes lit up. “Can I come on the hunt?”

  “Yes.”

  Maud realized that if she had told an average Earth woman that she would be taking her five-year-old daughter onto a temperamental alien mount and allow her to ride in a large pack of homicidal vampires to hunt an unknown but surely dangerous beast, the woman would have tried to take Helen away from her on the spot. Some people had PTA meetings, she had hunts.

  Helen would enjoy it and Maud wanted her to be happy. Plus, after the poisoning, letting her daughter out of her sight without an army of bodyguards ready to tear any attacker to pieces was out of the question.

  Whatever Ilemina wanted would likely take place before the hunt.

  They reached the Preceptor’s study. The door was retracted, the doorway framing Ilemina bent over her desk. The older vampire woman seemed deep in thought, her expression focused and predatory.

  A feeling of dread mugged Maud. Now what?

  She halted in the doorway. “My lady?”

  Ilemina raised her head. “Come inside.”

  Maud walked into the room, bringing Helen with her. The door slid shut behind them. Traped.

  Ilemina fixed her with a heavy gaze. “Lady Onda and Lady Seveline have invited you to the bride’s wassail.”

  The wassail was a long-standing vampire tradition. Despite the grand name, it was basically a brunch, light on food, but heavy on drinks, which, for vampires, meant caffeine. An average vampire could drain a bottle of whiskey and remain perfectly sober, but Maud had seen them down an expresso and dissolve into a soggy mess of slurred words and draping arms declaring their undying love and devotion to a stranger they met ten minutes ago.

  The wassail involved a large punch bowl filled with a caffeinated beverage and each guest would be served from it, toasting the host. It was common before a wedding; in fact, the tradition prescribed having several wassails for both the bride and groom. Maud had attended several wassails before. It was mostly a hilarious experience. Inevitably someone challenged her to a drink off, which ended with them under the table and her, completely sober, urgently looking for a bathroom.

  Ilemina’s face promised doom.

  “Is the invitation cause for alarm?” Maud asked.

  “No female members of House Krahr received an invitation. It is a family wassail. You are the only outsider.”

  She would be isolated and surrounded by knights of House Kozor. House Krahr was honor bound to respect their guests’ privacy. If something happened, there was no guarantee back up would arrive in time or at all. To decline the invitation would be both rude and cowardly and Onda and Seveline were counting on that.

  “It’s a trap.” The words came out flat.

  Ilemina nodded. “They will provoke you. They will try to test you to see what you know. Failing that, they will seek to humiliate you.”

  “If they can’t get me to respond, they will try to provoke Arland on my behalf. If they insult me enough, and I run to him crying, he will be honor bound to do something about it. They’re getting bolder.”

  Ilemina’s gaze was direct and cold. Maud had seen this exact expression on Arland’s face, right before he threw himself at a world-destroying flower. Ilemina had made up her mind. Neither Kozor nor Serak would get off this planet unscathed. It chilled Maud to the bone.

  “Do you want the post of Maven?” Ilemina asked.

  She didn’t even have to think. “Yes.”

  Ilemina turned to the screen glowing on the wall. A recording began playing. On screen, Seveline dashed at a group of Otrokar. Each of the five Horde warriors was bigger than Seveline. Maud had fought the Hope-Crushing Horde before; they had earned their name and then some. Seveline danced through them, slicing limbs, cutting bodies, graceful, lethal, unstoppable… A radiant smile played on the vampire knight’s lips. Blood stained her blonde hair. She looked like a berserker, lost to the slaughter, but she moved like a fighter completely in control of her body. Fluid. Precise. Aware. Underneath a caption glowed.

  Seveline Kozor

  57 confirmed kills

  Shit.

  On screen, Seveline beheaded a warrior with a single swing and laughed. She seemed to know where every one of her opponents was at all times, anticipating their movements before they made them.

  Ilemina sank steel into her voice. “You will go to this wassail and you will endure every assault on your honor and dignity. Under no circumstances are you to draw your sword. Do you understand me, Maven?”

  “Yes, Preceptor.”

  “So, is it customary for humans to be kept as pets?” Seveline asked.

  Maud sipped her coffee. It was genuine Earth coffee, given as a gift to the bride by House Krahr, and sweetened with some local syrup until it was less drink and more dessert. The bridal party about lost their minds when they watched her pour cream into it.

  She was painfully aware of both Onda and Seveline starring at her. The questions started the moment she sat down and became progressively more outrageous. The last one was an ins
ult. If she were a vampire, by now there would be blood.

  It wasn’t a bad plan. Isolate her. Get her drunk. Insult her until she threw the first punch, then kill her. They were likely recording this to absolve themselves of blame. Maud had done a mental sweep of the room when she entered. The situation hasn’t changed. They were in a tower, in a round chamber. Eight tables, four vampires each. She could hold her own, but nobody was that good. Ilemina was right. If I draw my sword, I won’t make it out of here alive.

  Her best defense was to pretend to be dense. “I do not know what you mean,” she said.

  Seveline heaved a sigh. Onda leaned forward, brushing her chestnut hair out of the way. “It is a logical question. You are not a member of our society. You have no rights, no purpose, and offer no benefit to House Krahr.”

  “Aside from sexual amusement for the Marshal,” Seveline added.

  “In other words, you are being kept around as a source of comfort, much like a dog.”

  “That’s not true,” Seveline said. “Dogs serve a purpose. They warn you of intruders and add to your safety.”

  “Very well, not a dog then.” Onda waved her arm. “A bird. A pretty, ornamental bird.”

  Maud raised her eyebrows. “So, what you are saying is, I am here for the Marshal’s sexual amusement like a pretty bird? Are members of House Kozor in the habit of copulating with their pet birds? I had no idea you had such exotic tastes.”

  The two women blinked, momentarily derailed.

  Seveline switched to Ancestor Vampiric. “I’m going to wring her neck.”

  The bride chose that moment to float by, all smiles. She smoothly turned, rested one hand on Seveline’s shoulder, and still smiling, said, “Do it and I will personally jab a knife in your eye. You will not ruin this for us. You have a simple job – provoke this bitch. How hard could this be? The Hunt is about to start. Get on with it.”

  Interesting.

  The bride offered Maud a bright smile. “Are you enjoying yourself? These two aren’t bothering you, are they?”

  The temptation to answer in Ancestor Vampiric was almost too much. “Not at all. They’ve been the soul of courtesy.”

  Onda looked like she was about to have an aneurism.

  The bride’s smile sharpened. “So glad to hear it.”

  She floated away.

  “So, you’re content with being a bed warmer?” Onda asked. “How will this reflect on your daughter? Or do you expect her to learn by example?”

  “What a good question,” Seveline said. “Perhaps you have already selected a client for her?”

  Amateurs.

  “What a disturbing thought,” Maud said. “Sexual contact with a child is forbidden. It is incredibly damaging to the child. I am surprised that this is tolerated within House Kozor. This is turning out to be a very educational conversation. Birds, children… is anything off limits to your people?”

  Onda turned grey, shaking with rage. Seveline glared. “We do not have sex with children!”

  Vampires at other tables turned to look at them.

  “So, just birds, then?” Maud asked.

  Seveline picked up the pitcher of coffee, jumped to her feet, and hurled the contents at her. There was no time to dodge. The coffee was barely warm, but it drenched her completely.

  Onda’s eyes were as big as saucers. The room went silent.

  Seveline stared straight at her, anticipation in her eyes.

  Maud looked back. It’s still your move, bitch.

  Seveline unhinged her jaws. “Coward.”

  Under the table, Maud sank her fingernails into her palm. In her mind, she flipped the table, gripped her sword, and drove her blade into Seveline’s gut.

  A moment passed.

  Another.

  The sticky coffee slid down her neck, dripping from her hair.

  Another.

  Seveline bared her fangs in a vicious grimace, spun on her heel, and stomped off. The door hissed shut behind her.

  Maud sat very still. This could still go bad. If they came at her now, her best bet would be to jump out the window. It was a thirty-foot fall to the ledge below, but she could survive it.

  The bride opened her mouth. Every pair of eyes watched her.

  “My Lady, we are dreadfully sorry. I do not know what came over her.”

  “Clearly,” Maud said, her tone dry, “some people just can’t handle their coffee.”

  A light ripple of laughter spread through the gathering.

  “You are most gracious,” the bride said.

  Oh you have no idea. “I implore you, think nothing of it. Please excuse me, I must now change.”

  “We wouldn’t dream of keeping you.”

  Try it and you’ll regret it.

  Maud grit her teeth as the long elevator sped downwards, through a shaft carved in the heart of the mountain. Getting the sticky coffee mess out of her hair took forever. Getting it off her armor took even longer. She had no time to apply any cosmetics or make herself in any way presentable.

  She was never fond of caking makeup on her face, but she always loved the eye shadow and mascara. In exile, mascara became an unattainable luxury and often a hinderance. Having mascara bleed into your eyes while you sweated buckets trying to kill an opponent twice your size before she did you in wasn’t exactly a winning strategy. But as soon as Maud got to the Inn, Dina invited her to raid her makeup stash. Maud had worn eye shadow, mascara, and a light lipstick every day since landing on this planet. Now, her face was bare, her hair was wet, because she didn’t dare to waste three minutes drying it, and she still, somehow, smelled of that damn coffee.

  Maud tapped her foot. The elevator refused to descend faster.

  This was not the way she intended to appear at the hunt. If the hunts she’d attended were anything to go by, this would be an almost ceremonial occasion. Everyone would look their best, as they rode in a procession. Armor polished, weapons ready, hair styled. When they finally tracked down whatever they were hunting, the strikers would move forward and close in for the kill. The strikers were determined in advance. To be chosen was an honor, and she was sure the strikers for this hunt would be the groom, the bride, possibly Arland, Otubar, Ilemina or Karat. Whoever was chosen from House Krahr would be there solely to make sure the bride and groom got the kill. Everyone would cheer and record the event, so later it could be shown to family and friends. Then, the whole party would turn around and go home.

  All she had to do was get to the stables on time, ride in the middle of the procession, exchanging pleasantries and looking well put together, express admiration at the strategic moment, then ride back. She couldn’t even manage that. She was at least ten minutes late. More like fifteen. And that’s if they left on time.

  Maud tapped her foot again. The elevator kept going with a soft whisper. She’d checked the message from Helen again. Her daughter’s excited face flashed before her, projected from her personal unit. “Hurry up, mommy. We’re going on a hunt.”

  A message from Ilemina had followed. “I have your child with me.” Which didn’t sound ominous at all. Maud heaved a sigh. Damn vampires.

  The elevator finally stopped. The doors parted, revealing a tunnel leading to wide open doors. Daylight flooded the doorway. Maud broke into a jog and emerged into the sunshine.

  A wide pathway, completely straight and paved with flat stones, rolled out before her, leading to a gate. On both sides of her, large corrals lined the path, secured by massive fences. Behind each rows of corrals, lay a large stable.

  The corrals were empty.

  The vihr, the big-boned massive mounts that vampires preferred, were gone.

  She spun around and saw the Stablemaster off to the side. Middle aged, huge, grizzled, with a mane of reddish hair going to grey, he scowled, checking something on his personal unit. A younger male vampire with greyish skin and jet-black hair stood next to him with a long-suffering expression. Maud strode to them.

  “Salutations,” Maud said. “
Where is the hunting party?”

  The Stablemaster didn’t look up. “Gone.”

  “Gone where?”

  He stopped and gave her a flat look. “Hunting.”

  “In which direction?”

  “North.”

  “I need a mount.”

  The chatty Cathy of the vampire world favored her with another look. “I don’t have any.”

  “You were supposed to hold a vihr for me.”

  “Someone took it. Hunting. North.”

  Maud summoned the last reserves of her will power and kept her voice calm. “Do you have any other mounts that I could ride?”

  “No.”

  Okay. “Do you have any mounts at all here? Anything that can run fast?”

  The young stable hand glanced at her. “We have savoks. But you can’t ride the damn things.” He looked at the Stablemaster. “Why do we even have them?”

  “They were a gift from the Horde, after Nexus,” the Stablemaster said.

  Maud’s heart sped up. The otrokar of the Hope Crushing Horde lived in the saddle. They prized mounts like treasure. They wouldn’t offer a gift of anything less than spectacular.

  “I’ll take a savok,” she said.

  “The hell you will,” the Stablemaster growled. “They will throw you, trample you, gut you with those claws, and bite your head off. And then I’ll never hear the end of it from the Marshal.”

  That did it. She didn’t have time to argue this. “You had orders to provide me with a mount. Bring the savoks or I’ll get them myself.”

  “Fine.” The Stablemaster flicked his fingers at his personal unit. The closest gate in the stable on their left opened. Metal clanged and three savoks galloped into the corral. Two were the typical rust red and one was white, an albino. Incredibly rare. The sun caught the velvety, short hair of their pelts, and they almost shone as they ran. If they were horses, they would be at least eighteen hands at the withers. Muscular, with four sturdy but lean legs, they moved with agility and speed. Their hind legs ended in hoofs, their front had three fused fingers and a raptor like dew claw. Their thick, short necks supported long heads armed with powerful jaws that were not seen on Earth since the extinction of bear dogs and hell pigs.