By Blood Betrayed (The Kingsblood Chronicles) (37 page)

Reidar smiled, a furtive and brief gesture. “Excellent. Hire the lad, Arden.” He drank some more of his ale then stared into the cup with a ghost of his smile remaining on his face.

“Well,” Arden said, impressed, “I’ve heard him give that same problem to the royal engineers of the Pasha of Damon, Alan. And while they each told him to move the weapon forward, none of them worked it out to the right range. Truth to tell, I don’t have the math to calculate it, either.” Siege engineering wasn’t necessary to a company’s captain, so the admission was not one of weakness.

“The problem is this,” he continued. “My need for crew for the
Searcher
exceeds my need for a field engineer. Would you be willing to accept a berth on the ship as her weapons engineer? While it is true that the scout’s skills may be somewhat wasted aboard a ship, who knows what opportunity the winds of war might bring, eh?”

Lian sighed and looked askance for a moment. “As long as you understand that a more appropriate offer will be difficult to refuse, sir,” he said, adding, “I don’t mean to accept your enemy’s coin during action, but you do understand that I wasn’t hoping for a shipboard posting?”

“Fair enough,” Arden said, offering his hand again. “It’s the answer I’d give in a similar situation. We’ll see how you fight, and how the boggle does, and perhaps in time we can agree on further arrangements.”

Lian grasped his hand firmly, “Yes, sir.”

Reidar said, “You’d best sell your beasts, Alan. No room on the
Searcher
for ‘em, unless you want to add them to the larder.”

The woman punched the mage in the shoulder, none too gently, “Nay, mageborn, ye daft fool. He’ll get none of what that bay’s worth here. We’ll put ashore in Seagate, and he’ll find a good price there.” She turned her eyes toward Lian and spoke to him for the first time, “That’s provided that the two of ye give me a share for sayin’ so, and clean up after the beasts yerselves.”

“A share for what I’d suggest myself, woman?” he marveled. “You’re nervy, I’ll grant you that. Provided the captain here grants me leave, I’ll give you one part in twenty, plus another part in ten if you help me sell him for more than he’s worth.” The woman’s tribe, the Rodan, were famed horse thieves, and well knew the value of horseflesh. She could likely find a buyer willing to pay much more than one Lian could locate, and in less time.

“One in ten and one in five,” she said, narrowing her eyes.

“One in ten and one in ten,” he countered, aware that it was still a lucrative deal for her, for a horse she didn’t own. He suspected that if he couldn’t strike a bargain with her and was forced to sell the horses here, she’d buy the bay at least and transport him herself.

“Done, if Arden agrees,” she said, spitting on her palm and glancing toward her captain, who nodded with a chuckle.

“Done,” Lian said and spat into his own palm, sealing the bargain with a wet handclasp.

“He’s got a good head on him,” Reidar remarked, grinning and turned to Lian. “Nan’s people stole horses from yours before?”

“No, not mine, but I’ve purchased remounts from the Rodan before,” he replied, narrowing his eyes in concentration. “Um, Migar the Red and Fossegrim Bonecleaver, if memory serves.” The two Rodani “horse-traders,” had brought horses to the Aldri County fair the year before, and Lian had spent time in Dunshor’s westernmost county pursuing them after the majority of the mounts they’d sold had suddenly disappeared.

Nan looked up sharply at the mention of the two names, and said, “When did ye see them last, Alan?”

“Last year it was, before they escaped with half a county’s horses in Dunshor,” he replied.

“And they looked well to ye?” she asked.

He nodded. “Migar had a great scar on his face, from ear to chin, and the bigger man complained of pain in his legs from an old wound, but they looked like they’d been eating well at least. Bonecleaver also mentioned a wife and a dozen children. None of them were his, by his own accounting.” He laughed when the barbarian did, glad that he could bring her news of her people.

She rose and clouted him on the shoulder. Her hand struck his armor, but the blow wasn’t hard enough to hurt her through his cloak. “Thanks for the word from home. Migar’s my brother, and though I’m the one what gave him that scar, I’m glad he’s doin’ well for himself. Half the horses of Aldri, eh?” she said wonderingly. Apparently finished, she walked over to the bar and began loudly demanding whiskey.

Lian hadn’t mentioned the county, but it had a long history of trouble with the woman’s tribe.

“Well, you’ve made Nan happy,” Arden said, shaking his head, “which means they’ll have to carry her back to the ship, but that’s to be expected. You have a good head for names and faces.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Yes, Captain,” he affirmed. He was aware that such a talent would be highly prized in a combat unit, for recognition of a specific unit in an engagement could allow a shrewd commander to outmaneuver his opponent based on previous battle strategy. A good memory had other uses, too.

“Good to know,” he said his decision apparently made. “We’ll have a berth ready for you and the goblin in the morning. We saw you make arrangements with the mayor’s wife, and I suggest you take the opportunity for one last night of good bedrest. The bunks on the
Searcher
aren’t exactly luxury quarters.”

“Thank you. I’ll do that, Captain,” Lian said. “There is one other matter, sir—”

Arden waved his hand interrupting, “I’ll have to discuss your employ with my officers before we decide your salary, but it’ll be a fair shake, I promise you. My men don’t complain about their shares, Alan.”

The larger of the two goblins muttered something in Govlikel, which Gem translated as, “If the scout prefers to bunk with us, we’ll make him welcome.” Lian doubted that Snog would accept the offer, which would actually mean that the smaller goblin would be “honored” with the serving tasks of the two bigger warriors.

Arden said, “You understand
Govlikel
?” When Lian shook his head, Arden went on, “Snog, is it? They’ve offered to let Snog bunk down with them if he is craving the company of his own kind. Up to him, and you I suppose.”

Lian made a decision and shook his head, “No, he stays with me.”

Arden and the two goblins shrugged. “No skin off their noses,” he said. “He trustworthy?”

Lian smiled and said, “He is to me. I’m responsible for him, and he knows that.” Lian rose and said, “Thank you for the opportunity, Captain Arden. We’ll see you in the morning.”

“Alan,” the mercenary leader said, acknowledging him with a nod. “We plan to ship out in two more days, possibly three. Make sure you bring the horse to the dock no more than two hours before we sail. Captain Cedrick will inform you of the exact departure date when he gets more of a feel for the state of the repairs, but the less time your horse is on board, the better off he’ll be, and the better off the ship will be.”

“That reminds me, sir,” Lian said. “Will Captain Cedrick accept me as his artilleryman, sir?”

Arden grinned tightly and Reidar said, “Cedrick knows who owns the
Searcher
, Alan. He’ll respect this decision, believe me.”

Lian nodded and turned back to Snog, who was watching his lord and the men at the table intently.
I hope he’ll respect it
, Lian thought.

Chapter Twenty Two

“Lord of Dreams, keep me and watch me with kindness

May gentle sleep find me and ward me from darkness.

Lady of Nightmares, stay far away.

Lord of Dreams, guard me until the new day.”

-- Nursery prayer common to Dunshor and the Western Kingdoms

He dreamed of his parents’ anniversary again. This time, the dream took place in the ballroom where the king and queen were hosting a fête in honor of the occasion. He drifted about the party slowly, as one moves in dreams, yet burdened with the knowledge of what was to come. He saw his brother Alec and moved toward him, relieved that he could warn the crown prince, but before he reached him, his Aunt Jisa appeared, drawing her handsome nephew away for a dance.

He next saw his beautiful mother, but to his horror, Rishak asked
her
for a dance.

He grew increasingly frantic as one after another, the members of his family and the upper nobility were spirited away by his aunt and uncle, until no one remained in the ballroom but him. He heard Jisa’s bell-like laughter behind him, and turned slowly.

The missing guests were behind him, but they had been horribly wounded at the hands of his uncle’s assassins. His brothers and sisters, except for Jenine for some reason, were in the forefront, and a mad fire raged in their eyes. Faces twisted by terrible hatred, they flung themselves upon Lian.

***

With an inarticulate cry, he sat bolt-upright in his bed.
What is it, Lian?
Gem asked. She was not privy to his dreams unless he shared the memory with her afterwards.

Just a dream,
he replied, still shaking.
A nightmare about my family. I’m okay
.

The prince’s emotional state belied his words, but Gem didn’t press the issue. She imagined that if she were to ever dream, her sleep would be haunted, too.
Go back to sleep, lad
, she said soothingly, and began to sing to her wielder across their telepathic bond in
Aesidhe
. The elven melody had the desired effect of calming the prince back to sleep.

Gem heard Snog awaken when Lian cried out, but the goblin made no move other than to loosen his magic dagger in its scabbard. The scout remained awake for thirty more minutes, calmly breathing in an imitation of sleep, waiting for danger to appear.
Lian picked a good ally in this little goblin
, she thought to herself.

Eventually, Snog settled back into true sleep in his vantage point behind the door. He had tried the bed, but declared that it was far too soft for his liking, instead claiming a spot where he could strike an intruder from behind, and also remain hidden from someone approaching from the window.

A good ally, indeed
.

***

Ammon arrived in Mola silently, warping space about him so that he could literally step from his tower directly into the fishing village. The center of the town, where both the tavern and the mayor’s house were located, was shielded from his scrying ball, so he was forced to arrive some distance from his eventual destination. Attempting to gate in without a clear view of his target would be dangerous at the least, and quite possibly fatal.

He chose instead to enter the village near Shana’s shack. He could hear the snores of both the sheriff and his wife and paused for a moment, considering whether to involve the big woman. After a mere second’s thought, however, he decided that she was too lightly bound, and therefore too unreliable, to depend upon.

Weaving an aura of nothingness around himself, he moved carefully toward the mayor’s house. He avoided the watchtower as much as possible, for he knew that the night watchman possessed magic that allowed him to see clearly in the dark. The lizard folk who lived in the bay frequently came ashore to steal some of the day’s catch, and it was for this, rather than any pirate threat, that a watch was kept.

While the nothingness which surrounded him would prevent the watchman from spotting him directly, the guard might spot the footprints he left in the sandy ground of the village.

As he neared the inn, he heard a sharp cry from within, as of someone waking suddenly from a bad dream. Cursing his luck, he withdrew and hid near the forest edge. Whether the cry emanated from his quarry or not, he was likely to have been awakened by the outburst. Ammon would be forced to wait for at least an hour to ensure that his prey would have settled back to sleep.

He sighed softly and with resignation. His was a game of patience, more often than not, and he was a champion player.

***

The assassin had arrived so stealthily, and moved with such skill, that she hadn’t been aware of him at first. The vampire had been unaware of his approach until he was within thirty yards of the inn. From her station at the forest edge, she would not have been able to reach the mage before he disappeared into the mayor’s house.

A shout of alarm from within that same house, however, halted the assassin’s approach and forced him to retreat to the edge of the wood, a scant hundred yards from Sileth, to wait for his victims to fall back asleep.
Fortune smiles upon those two
, the vampire thought, creeping through the underbrush, neither making a sound nor disturbing the creatures of the wood. She was no magician, but her talents had the strength of centuries behind them.

The sapphire on Ammon’s ring darkened and cooled as Sileth approached the aging sorcerer. A less paranoid man might have dismissed the warning of the enchanted gemstone, but not the easterner. Ammon quietly withdrew a small hollow tube and slid the leather strap clear of the firing mechanism. Whirling to face his foe, he fired the dart contained in the spring-loaded weapon at the chest of his assailant. He was vaguely surprised to see a girl of approximately fourteen years emerging from the underbrush of the forest, but it didn’t affect his aim.

The vampiress was aware of a sudden blinding pain originating from her chest, but didn’t allow herself to be distracted. Leaping across the remaining distance, she extended her claws and slashed at the man’s face. Despite the speed of her assault, he managed to utter a single syllable. An oily feeling spread across her hands, and she knew that he’d partially deflected her blow with his magic.

Still, she was no ordinary vampire, and she did make contact. Blood freely flowed from the cuts, and the assassin’s eyes widened slightly. His deflection spell would turn a sword blow, much less the nails of a girl.

A Companion?
he wondered in awe, cursing his luck. She leapt at him again, but this time his magic held her at bay, stopping her mere inches from his form. He began to summon magic to put her down, hoping that he wouldn’t be heard in the village. It was a choice, however, between risking a spell and letting the creature kill him.