Best regards,
Emperor Chrysander Draconis
Alaric closed the card and informed the sentinels of its contents.
“Are you considering not attending?” Gavrael asked.
“The Council has offered us nothing so far,” Alaric replied. “We have some allies but no resources.”
“We can offer no advice,” Ducarius said. “Only Gavrael and Gedeon have visited this Council.”
“Forget about this place for a second,” Gedeon suggested. “If we don’t join the Council, then no other sentinel will meet their mate.”
“Can they not meet them here?” Cassius asked.
“I don’t see why we can’t unlock all the cell doors and allow the others to have the same freedoms we enjoy,” Alaric remarked.
“It is a promising idea,” Gavrael agreed.
“Does anyone object?” Alaric asked. No one said a word. Alaric scrawled on a piece of parchment and unlocked all the doors. They’d all been told about mates by the bloodbound men who visited them. It was time the others found the happiness which had eluded Alaric. The compound shuttered and Alaric knew the men were leaving their cells and intermingling for the first time.
“What else can we do for our men?” Alaric asked.
“I suspect we will need to rearrange the rooms for any mated pairs,” Gavrael observed.
“Will we have mates?” Cassius asked.
“All magickind have them,” Alaric responded automatically.
“But we have met all the men here already,” Ducarius argued. “None of us responded to them differently than anyone else.”
“Then your mate is not a sentinel,” Alaric explained.
“It doesn’t matter who my mate is,” Brynnius responded. “I’m a skeleton.”
“We don’t know if that’s permanent,” Alaric replied.
“We have no reason to think it’s not,” Ducarius reasoned.
“Must unmated men live alone?” Cassius asked.
“I don’t think they have to,” Alaric said. “If they wish to have a roommate, I don’t see why we can’t do that.”
“At D’Vaire we have places for people to lounge about and talk,” Gedeon explained. “Why not make some of those?”
“As we rearrange rooms, we will add them in each hallway,” Alaric agreed. “That’s a great idea.”
“Too bad electronics don’t work here. We could add all kinds of cool shit,” Gedeon complained.
“We will have to figure out another way to entertain people,” Alaric said.
“Board games,” Gavrael suggested.
“If you will bring an example, I can duplicate it,” Alaric told him.
“Will the compound then begin to compare to this Council?” Brynnius asked.
Alaric blew out a breath. “No.”
“Resources can be obtained in time,” Gavrael stated.
Alaric knew it was best to get into the Council, but it grated on his nerves. He didn’t want to need people that did nothing to help them for centuries. And he certainly didn’t want to get anywhere close to the Order of Necromancia in his immortal lifetime. But his duty was first and foremost to the men he served. “If we’re going to return to the Council, we will go as we are here. We’re a united team.”
“You wish to take us with you?” Cassius asked. “We’re skeletons.”
“You are sentinels, and you’re a part of the leadership structure.” Alaric turned to the D’Vaire men. “Can we amend our bylaws to add all of you?”
“I will inquire,” Gavrael replied. “I suspect it will not be an issue as we have not been granted acceptance.”
“So, what are we?” Gedeon asked. “Like an elder council?”
“No, they’re a blight,” Alaric said. “You’ve been chosen for this duty by the Lich Sentinel.”
“What are we going to be called?” Ducarius asked.
“Skeleton Seven,” Gavrael suggested.
Alaric grinned. “Perfect. I think we’ll take it a step further. You’ll each have a title as well. From here on out, you are each to be known as Skeleton Lords.” Picking up a piece of parchment, Alaric wrote down their names alongside their titles. After the smoke cleared, Alaric told them all to stand. The Skeleton Seven would now be recognizable; their blades glowed the same green and black as his own.
“Fuck, that’s cool,” Gedeon raved.
“It would appear we have a Council session to attend next week,” Alaric stated.
“Good, now you all need to come to D’Vaire,” Gedeon invited. “I’ve been talking with Larissa, and she has some kick-ass designs for more formal uniforms we can wear.”
* * *
Chander stood in the antechamber and took a series of deep breaths. Council was in session but on a short recess as a vote had just been called. They would then tackle the last part of the agenda: the sentinels. He didn’t want to see Alaric. The Order of Necromancia couldn’t care less if he took part in this, but the Emperor had made it clear he expected Chander to be there. He wasn’t sure if it was to help the sentinels or to punish Chander. It hardly mattered. No matter why he was here, it would hurt. The betrayal cut deep and the brief time he’d had on his own since shoving Alaric out of his life had hardly been enough to even begin the process of healing. A low chime echoed in the room and he knew he had to get back into his vestibule. His own sentinels were already in there awaiting their brethren.
One last exhale and he slid open the door. Head held high he sat down after Chrysander walked in.
“Next on our agenda is the petition from the sentinels. We’ve received an amendment to their bylaws which is now available for you to consult for questions.”
The doors were flung open and Chander’s mouth almost hit the fucking floor. Alaric strode in and he couldn’t take his eyes off him. He wore a charcoal gray uniform. The jacket had a mandarin collar and was embroidered in thick ropes which stood tall from the fabric. It was white and black with threads of chartreuse. On the left side of his chest was a skull with green glowing smoke in the eye sockets. Around his waist was a sash the color of his eyes. He was the most regal man in the room.
Once he could take tear his gaze away, he saw seven men with him. Two he recognized, and they wore uniforms like Alaric but instead of green accents, they had the blue-black of D’Vaire. Over their torsos, they also had sashes of dragonskin. They had their cloaks on over theirs but Chander could see their daggers were now two-toned like Alaric’s.
The other five men had the hoods of their cloaks up but they were pushed back enough that you could see they were skeletons. Four white and one black. Their uniforms were adorned to match the colors of their bones. The eight men together made a unique and striking tableau.
“Council members, allow me to reintroduce you to Arch Lich-mate Alaric Daray. The sentinels have chosen to reconstruct their leadership and have added the men before you to their governing body. They are Skeleton Lords Gavrael and Gedeon D’Vaire, Albrecht, Brynnius, Cassius, Ducarius, and Eduard. Collectively known as the Skeleton Seven. We’ll begin with questions.”
“Your Majesty, may I begin with a statement?” Alaric asked.
“Of course, Arch Lich-mate,” Chrysander replied.
“With all due respect, my title is Lich Sentinel, Your Majesty,” Alaric said. “Your Council may choose not to recognize it, but it’s the only one I will answer to. Before I satisfy any questions today, I would like to tell you why I’m here. I oversee a race of eight thousand, four hundred and three men. We were created two thousand years ago by the Order of Necromancia.”
He paused and when he spoke again, his tone was bitter. “Then we were imprisoned and left to rot while they spread lies about what kind of people we are. They insulted our honor and filled everyone with fear. They called us beasts and scared children with stories of mayhem and murder with my men in the starring role. There is no proof of their words, and yet no one did anything to aid us in our plight.
“The skeletal men sta
nding here today were forced to commit acts which stripped them of their humanity. This is the legacy you have all given us. We will accept it no longer. I’ve shattered the bonds of sentinels and necromancers. The magical device which creates the union between our people lies in broken shards. It might not save the sentinels who are serving these sorcerers now, but there will never be another one of us resurrected to answer to a race who have nothing but apathy and hatred for us.
“I was invited here by Reverent Knight Conley Gylde-Kempe. He was the only one to suggest we deserved more than what we’d been given. I followed your rules, filled out your forms, and while my men continued to suffer, you took your time. There were no resources offered, no solutions presented to improve our lives, and you allowed the Order of Necromancia to file a petition to block us. The very race who are our tormentors.
“I stand here today prepared to answer your questions not because I have any fondness for your Council, but because after slamming open our prison doors there are still one hundred and eighty-two unmated sentinels. I am here for them. Their mates are not at the compound, and I will not have them suffer with solitary lives any longer.”
When Alaric finished speaking, the Council was frozen. Chander didn’t think he could remember a time when a race asking to be added had offered such a blistering indictment on the leaders getting ready to vote on their petition. Though he was loath to admit it—he couldn’t stand the lying, cheating bastard—Alaric was right. None of this process had been fair.
“Lich Sentinel, we as a Council have some soul searching to do about how we conduct ourselves,” Chrysander said after a few more moments of silence. “I appreciate your honesty and your willingness to stand before us today. It’s obvious you want the best for your people, and I can think of no higher quality in a leader. Are there any questions for the Lich Sentinel?”
“Does the Order of Necromancia have a rebuttal to the statements made by the Lich Sentinel?” Aloisa the Dwyer asked.
“The Order of Necromancia does not,” Chander stated. He wasn’t going to say anything more if he could avoid it. The plight of the sentinels had long been something he wished he could fix, but he didn’t want anything to do with their leader and he sure as hell wasn’t going to get into a pissing match with the man in a public venue.
“Arch Lich, will you not at least revoke your petition blocking the sentinels’ petition?” the leader of the Tristis elves asked.
Chander barely avoided rolling his eyes. “I cannot, Chieftain Tristis. It was filed by the elder council.”
“Your Majesty, I would ask you as Council leader to revoke the petition filed by the Order of Necromancia,” Vampyress Irina Volkov said. “It is mean-spirited, and the Lich Sentinel is correct in saying he’s being singled out by the very race he is seeking his independence from. No race should have the power to imprison another.”
“Does anyone second Vampyress Volkov’s motion?” Chrysander asked. There was a chorus of people adding their race to the request.
“Consider the petition revoked,” Chrysander stated. “The Order of Necromancia will also abstain from casting a vote. Arch Lich, please recuse yourself.”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” Chander replied and though he wanted to run, he forced himself to walk sedately out of the room. The ethereal eyes of the Lich Sentinel were the last thing he saw. They were filled with hostility and resentment. Chander knew the same vicious emotions were swimming in his own.
In the alcove, Chander let the tears that seemed to always be swimming just below the surface fall down his cheeks. It had been far more difficult to see Alaric than he could have ever imagined. He wondered if he would ever get to a point where it didn’t threaten to rip him apart when he did. Chander heard the door slide open and knew his sentinels had finished watching the session. Scrubbing his palms over his face, he lifted his head. He’d never let anyone see the depth of his broken heart, and he knew he’d have a lifetime of hiding. This was a pain he couldn’t simply endure with lies and there was no fix to be had. Fate was a cruel bitch.
Chapter 46
When it was all over, Alaric was grateful there were few questions and most of them weren’t even for him. His speech had apparently worked well; he’d gotten the attention of the other leaders. Hopefully when the next race asked to be included, it would be done with more care. There should be more done to help at the start and not expect a race with no resources to manage. Were it not for the connections of the D’Vaires and that necromancer Fate had tied him to, the sentinels would have been sunk in a vast ocean.
His heart had bled looking up at Chander sitting there in his smoky silver crown and pissed off expression. He wasn’t used to seeing his face looking so elegant. It threw him off balance or maybe it was the emotions that had rocketed through him when he saw him. Alaric hadn’t expected joy to bubble in his veins, and he’d been correct in assuming that would not happen.
Acrid feelings had stirred. Vicious nasty thoughts had filtered through his mind as he recalled how Chander had tossed him out on his ear. No, he’d done more than that, he had all but demanded he be returned to the prison his people had created. It was a place his own sentinels didn’t even call home, but he wanted Alaric sent there to rot.
He was still outside the Main Assembly Hall with the Skeleton Seven. The Council leaders were all inside presumably voting to either include the sentinels or send them back to the compound. Alaric decided if things did not fall in his favor, he would still find a way to track down the mates of the men who had no partners. He’d spent days performing matebond ceremonies and rearranging the building to accommodate the new needs of his people.
If asked, he would have reported no matebond ceremony could touch him in any soft part of himself. He would have sworn he was dead inside and as barren as the skeletal men who were becoming his friends, but it had been impossible not to feel the delight of all the sentinels who were stunned to find they had a partner. Someone chosen by Fate to share their lonely lives with. Their eyes had all been full of wonder, and Alaric suspected he’d once been as blissful at the prospect of a life with Chander.
That elation had turned to contempt, but he’d liked knowing his men wouldn’t know that feeling. They were all mated to sentinels. An incorruptible race that didn’t even have any sexuality beyond the man they were tied to. It was one of the many beauties of his people, and he’d celebrated alongside them as they made their promises. Madeline D’Vairedraconis had slews of orders for matebond rings and she was happy to make them but couldn’t churn them out as quickly as his brethren wished to unite.
Gavrael and Gedeon would without a doubt be delivering rings and Larissa’s uniforms—and, of course, crazy pajamas—for the next few months. The sentinel compound would never be the same, and Alaric was thrilled. It was ironic that while his own life had been torn apart by Chander’s maliciousness, his people had never fared better.
“Lich Sentinel,” he heard someone say. He turned his head and saw the Emperor’s adopted brother, Duke Zane Draconis.
“Your Grace, how are you?” Alaric asked.
“I’m well, will you introduce me to the Skeleton Seven?” he asked. Alaric made the introductions and then Zane asked them to all follow him. His Majesty wished to speak to them. Zane led them to the security station, and they handed over their ID cards or in the case of the skeletons, guest passes, to the fallen knights. Their weapons had to be removed and they were all asked to walk through the magical screening device just as they had to enter the building earlier. Once past the security, they wound up the wide hallway that led to the alcoves used by the Council leaders. Alaric was pleased to see it was nearly empty, only a few stragglers hurrying past.
No doubt the Emperor, who was a good friend of Chander’s, knew the state of their relationship and had given the Arch Lich plenty of time to get away from the area Alaric was traipsing through. They got to the door used by the dragons. It was flanked on both sides by more dukes.
Wit
hout knocking Zane opened the door. Inside Chrysander and his twin sat with their golden crowns handsomely adorned with dragons twinkling in the low light of the room. It was a tight squeeze by the time the three dragons were joined by all eight sentinels but they made it work. Alaric chose to stand as did his men.
“Lich Sentinel, will you introduce me to the Skeleton Lords I don’t know?” Chrysander asked. Alaric did the honors for both the Emperor and Imperial Duke Damian Draconis.
“A pleasure to meet all of you,” Chrysander said.
“Thank you for inviting us here today,” Alaric responded.
“We all know it is long overdue, so please don’t thank me,” Chrysander insisted. “I thought you wouldn’t want to wait around to know the results of the vote.”
“No, I need to return to the compound.”
“Not even curious, are you?”
“I have one hundred and eighty-two men who need mates, otherwise your Council would be of absolutely no interest to me.”
Chrysander let out a loud sigh. “You were unanimously accepted. Welcome to the Council of Sorcery and Shifters, gentlemen.”
Alaric wanted to heave out his own sigh. He’d sought this for his men and hoped he was successful in finding them lives here so they could find their other halves. “Thank you.”
“Absolutely my pleasure,” Chrysander said. “You’ll need to set up an office here. The Reverent Knights have graciously offered to give you space next to their Headquarters. It would rest between them and the Order of Necromancia.”
Alaric must have given something away in his expression because Chrysander held up a hand. “You don’t have to use it. You can request space in another building in the complex. I just thought I would make the offer. I know the Order of the Fallen Knights is anxious for you to get settled. They have ideas about how the sentinels can work with them to aid in their duties.”
“We will need to discuss what our plans are,” Alaric replied. “We didn’t wish to be overeager and assume we would be added. We haven’t worked out how we will straddle both worlds.”
Rise of the Lich Sentinel Page 32
