Blood Lies (Dark Brothers of the Light #9) Read online

  They continued their slow progress to Isranon's chambers, and by the time they reached them, the servants had already been there. A trestle table had been set up beside the round one in the center. Covered platters were all over it. Three places had been set.

  Alassance got a lopsided grin as he settled into his chair. He took a two foot length of rope from his pouch, placed it on the table and spoke to it. The rope re-shaped itself into a serpent and fetched him a pastry. "It's not much, but it's my main affinity. I can work with all lengths."

  Placing three more lengths of rope on the table, Alassance soon had them filling his plate for him.

  Isranon smiled. "That's very clever." He started to say something more and noticed that three of the fingers of Alassance's left hand were stiff. "What happened to your fingers?"

  "Horse stepped on them." Alassance talked around his food. "Town where the imps were taking over. I let the animals out of their pens. Picked me out a horse, but he knocked me down and stepped on my fingers before I could subdue him." Alassance paused to give a victorious laugh. "I caught him and rode him all the way to Ildyrsetts."

  Isranon grasped Alassance's hand, rubbing his thumb gently over them. "I can heal them, but there will be pain involved. I will have to re-break them and burn away the calcium deposits."

  "Like you did for Zorrance?"

  "There was no pain for Zorrance. His troubles did not involve the bones."

  "I'm brave. What's a little pain if I can have the full use of those fingers back."

  Isranon studied Alassance, noticing for the first time a bit of green like a tattoo on his neck, partially concealed by his hair. He lifted Alassance's hair and laughed. "You had help getting here, didn't you?"

  Alassance flinched and put his hand over the godmark. "I used to go to her temple, until the day it snowed. She packed it up, put it in her pocket, and left."

  "And you've missed her ever since?"

  Alassance nodded, going wary.

  Isranon opened his tunic and pointed at the green question mark squiggle over his heart. "The Trickster likes me also. So tell me about Zyne. I was there during her creation, but I'll tell you about that later."

  Information began to pour from Alassance like rain. "She's undead, and she's making more. But the spooky thing is not all of them are undead. Most just die in the making, but about a quarter of them don't."

  "Not undead?"

  "She says she's bringing her race back. But they still can't make a male to do it with. They say there is a male out there. Only one ever made. But they're having trouble finding him."

  "Did any of them say his name?"

  "Dane Jayce."

  Isranon's eyes closed briefly, riding the memories of the days when Dane Jayce had been his protector and rescuer in the days before he came into his gifts. He had always known there was something different about him. "Go on."

  "They didn't take Charas to eat folks. They took it to enslave the mages. You see, Galee has a theory. One like those top mages get. She believes that if they can turn any of the descendents of the three brothers early enough in childhood, he can become another male for them."

  The color faded in Isranon's cheeks.

  "Darmyk ... my son."

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  BOYS WILL BE BOYS.

  "You did well last night, Stygean." Isranon led him along a corridor and up another flight of stairs. "I'm proud of you. Now it's time for another part of your training to begin."

  "Where are we going?"

  "The humans call it a salle. They train with weapons there."

  Stygean smiled, feeling he was one up on his mentor. "I know what that is. My father's myn trained there. You forget I am not from Waejontor."

  "You're right. I do tend to forget that. I trained with the lycans under Nevin, just like you."

  "You trained with the blades?"

  "Nevin says I was very good with them."

  "Yet you weren't good enough to stop those sa'necari who attacked you?"

  Isranon sighed at Stygean's impertinence. "I didn't have my blades. Blood-slaves are not allowed them."

  "Then how did they have them?"

  "Treachery. Let us get back to the subject. You are going to train with blades even harder than before. I have decided to give you a set today. I had originally wanted to hold them back until your next birthday. Among the lycans you are a man at fourteen and you are given a set of blades, but I want you to have your own now. We will be riding on in the spring, and the land beyond Ildyrsetts is dangerous."

  Stygean was instantly intrigued by the idea. "And they won't be bane blades or even hell blades of any kind?"

  "You catch on fast. No, but they are runed."

  "Is Jingen getting a set?"

  "No. Jingen is being trained differently. He's not to be a battlemage like you. Your talents are different."

  "Will I be training with Teague then?"

  "Not at first. You'll still be training with Nevin."

  When they entered the salle, Nevin already had the practice blades out, and on one of the benches lining the walls was a cloth-wrapped bundle. Isranon took Stygean over to the bench and gestured at the bundle. "Go on. Test their balance."

  Stygean unwrapped them and gasped at the blue-violet metal. "Kendaryl."

  "Yes. Very fine blades."

  Two youths and a boy, their faces hidden by hoods, watched them from the benches, making Stygean uncomfortable. He strapped on his blades, feeling proud to have them.

  "Hey you!" shouted the largest of the three, a sandy-haired youth a head taller than Stygean with the first traces of chin hair fuzzing his jawline. "Are you Stygean Loosestrife?"

  All three of the boys threw their hoods back, revealing their faces and grinning.

  "You know I am." Stygean frowned, wondering why Dahnig bothered to ask.

  They sauntered over and looked him up and down. "So you're our new battlemage. Not much to look at." He examined Stygean critically, then stuck out his hand. "I'm Dahnig Wheelwright, this is Grygg Lostan, also known as fearless leader." He indicated the tallest youth. "And that's Iyan Helyt, our slinger."

  "I know that already."

  "Not this way you don't." Dahnig winked. "This is a formal introduction into the team. All of these things need some formalities. So here goes: on the road and in the field, Grygg's the boss. Captain Settlesby has put us together into small special units."

  Stygean realized then that his friends were playing a joke on him and grinned. "Yessir, Boss."

  "Now that that's finished, let's go find some trouble," Grygg said.

  "Can I go?" Stygean glanced at Nevin.

  Nevin laughed. "There was no lesson planned for today. It was all a ruse to get you here."

  * * * *

  Stygean felt strange and nervous as he went looking for Farris. He found her in the nibari quarters with three of her children, the two year old girl he had rescued months ago, a four year old boy and another girl, this one looked to be about ten. She smiled at him.

  "Can I help you with something, Stygean? I was just putting the children to bed." Farris tilted her head, giving him a discreet flash of her neck.

  "Can we talk outside?"

  Farris tucked the children in and then went down on her knees, assuming first position. "If all you wish is blood, you may do it here."

  Stygean felt his body react to her; his fangs came down, and his cock hardened. His body was making it harder. "I just want to talk. That's it." He waved his hands at her.

  Farris frowned and followed him out. He led her around to a spot in the garden. "What is it?

  Stygean dropped his eyes. "I have a couple of friends. I – I–" Stygean was becoming flustered and it made Farris laugh.

  "And what? Come on, talk to me, Stygean."

  "I bragged about how many women I had had and they dared me to prove it by bringing three females to them tonight…. Well one is for me."

  "That is no problem. Since you are one of the mast
ers, pick three and tell them to come. The masters are always obeyed."

  "No!" Stygean shoved his hands into his pockets. "It must be of their own free will."

  Farris gave him a peculiar look. "And what kind of people are your friends?"

  "Human."

  "Ahhhh. Well you wait here. It will not take me more than a few minutes. They are young? Your age?"

  "Sixteen."

  Farris stepped back inside. When she returned, she had two young girls with her. Stygean noted that the two were known to be somewhat fang-shy, having belonged to the Scathwick herd and having been blooded roughly by Jingen's father. Farris had made an appropriate choice, since all that his friends wanted was sex and not blood.

  "Who's the other one?" Stygean asked.

  "I am."

  "Ooooh. Okay." Earlier that day he and Grygg had explored a few of the unused nooks and crannies of Edvarde's mansion, tumbling on an attic with some aging mattresses and sofas. When they reached it, Grygg and Dahnig were already there and had liberated a couple of bottles of brandy and a set of glasses from the kitchens.

  "Wow!" shouted Dahnig. "I didn't think you could really do it."

  Grygg gestured with his glass, "Sit down, ladies, and enjoy."

  Farris took a bottle and poured for each of them. She had dressed the two females in the best robes they had, revealing most of their cleavage. Then she settled into position one with her neck turned for Stygean. The other two did likewise. Stygean shook his head at them. "Relax, no positions, until we ask."

  Dahnig grinned. The dark haired girl moved close to him, leaning in against his body, which forced him to put an arm around her shoulder. The nibari rubbed her neck against his mouth. He kissed her.

  Grygg's hand stole up to squeeze the breast on the one beside him, and finding that she did not object, continued to play with it.

  They sat and drank until midnight, talking. Grygg left the conversation first, taking his nibari to the pile of old mattresses where he undressed them both. It was not long before Dahnig drew the second one behind the sofas.

  Stygean listened to the grunting and moaning. With his head lowered, he glanced at his friends enthusiastically poking the girls. He lifted his eyes to Farris. "Farris…."

  "Shush."

  "I've treated you terribly…." Stygean struggled for words, finally placing his hand upon her belly. "It's mine. I–I was thoughtless. At first, I was just trying to compete with Jingen. You were an object. My father promised you to me for my first rite." Stygean's head went up and down and from side to side nervously, shame warming his cheeks. "I'm glad I ... didn't do it. Forgive me."

  "You are the master. Your will conquers and I submit. I am nibari. There is no shame that I carry your child. It is an honor."

  "Farris..."

  Farris ignored his protests and began undressing. She spread out on the aging carpet, ignoring decades of dust. "Come to me," she said, and Stygean did so.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THE KING'S DANCE

  Veranoctem 25, 1077

  Alassance stood just inside the door to the common room, watching everyone eat and trying to figure out which side he was supposed to go to. Little herds of children were seated all through it with adults minding them. A large N was sewn to their left shoulders. Those were the nibari. The entire concept of nibari would take some getting used to. On the far right sat officers and others of rank. A long runner set the line of demarcation between them.

  A mon in an officer's tunic stopped and put his hand on Alassance's shoulder. "Don't know where to go?"

  "No one's had time to show me around ... not with the king arriving last night."

  "What's your name?"

  "Alassance."

  "You're the new apprentice." The mon grinned. "I'm Captain Luck Settlesby. You're probably looking for Stygean."

  "Yes."

  "He's over here," Luck led Alassance to a round table near the south corner of the officers' section.

  There, two dark-skinned, dark-haired boys sat eating with a crimson-haired girl.

  "Stygean. Jingen. I want you to meet your master's new apprentice, Alassance"

  Chinisi extended her hand to Alassance who touched his lips to the back. She giggled. "Such courtly manners! Well, I'm Chinisi Cordwainer. Lord Geoffry is my uncle."

  Luck leaned and whispered in Stygean's ear, "I know about Farris."

  Alarm flashed across Stygean's face.

  Before the boy could say anything, Luck squeezed his shoulder. "Half the trouble you get into could be avoided, boy. You need to start trusting folks."

  Stygean gave a nod. Then Luck joined Travis and Darianna at another table.

  Jingen watched Luck until he was certain that the captain would not be returning. Then he turned on Alassance. "Human! I can't believe we're supposed to study with a human. You can't be a dark brother; you're not sa'necari."

  Stygean rolled his eyes.

  Alassance's mouth slewed sideways. A nibari placed a plate of food in front of Alassance, and the boy looked up at her, "Can I have some extra sausages?"

  The nibari nodded and left.

  He dropped his fork and bent to pick it up where it had fallen beneath the table. He tossed a piece of rope down, retrieved his fork and started eating with a secret smile.

  Jingen's eyes widened. "There's something inside my trousers. It's crawling up my leg. Snake!" He shrieked, tumbled to the floor, knocking his chair over.

  Alassance gave him a sneer. "Wrong season for snakes."

  Jingen got to his feet and the rope fell to his ankles before slithering back to Alassance. "Filthy human. Filthy fucking human." Jingen grabbed his plate and moved to another table.

  The three of them laughed at Jingen's departure.

  Alassance made the rope climb his leg, lurch onto the table and dance. "It's not much of a talent, but I've learned to do a lot with it."

  "Are you attending the dance?" Chinisi asked.

  "Master Isranon has put me with the littles in the upstairs drawing room. Says I'm a year shy for such things." Alassance heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Not that I really wanted to go. Too fancy for my tastes."

  "I wish I weren't going." Stygean ducked his head at Chinisi's glare. "I never learned to dance."

  "And I promised to teach you." Chinisi reached across the table and clasped Stygean's hand, whereupon the rope tied their hands together.

  Stygean laughed and soon they were all laughing.

  * * * *

  The Great Hall sparkled with solstice decorations: holly boughs, evergreen swatches and garlands, all of it threaded with a variety of acorns, walnuts, cranberries and crabapples. They were hung with blown glass animals, stamped metal and painted wooden ornaments. Musicians occupied a platform with two violins, a harpsichord and a large harp. A throne for the king had replaced Edvarde's usual seat, which had been moved to the side, on the dais with small tables between the chairs. All the normal furniture had been moved to the side, and the tables filled with food and drink.

  Stygean drifted along the edges of the chamber to escape the dancers. The beauty of the music made Stygean ache to play his flute, although he was still a long way from mastering it and never played where anyone could hear him. It lay hidden among his belongings with a handful of other treasures. The gifts beneath the solstice tree had become a mountain, and he felt tempted to try and hide behind them.

  "Stygean! You make me so furious!"

  He looked up and saw Chinisi coming toward him. She wore a viridian green wool dress trimmed in butter yellow silk. The scoop neck revealed the barest hint of the white mounds of her budding breasts. Matching ribbons had been braided into her wealth of flaming hair. Stygean's eyes went wide at how lovely she looked, even as he cringed at her tone.

  "What did I do?"

  Chinisi's mouth twisted up. "You were supposed to come to my suite and escort me here."

  "I was?" Stygean's Adam's apple bobbed nervously. "I didn't know. I'm sorry."

&nb
sp; "Aunt Lobelia threw a fit when you failed to arrive. But earlier she had thrown a worse one over Uncle Geoffry consenting to you escorting me." She ducked her head to hide a grimace. "Auntie is glaring at us."

  Stygean glanced over his shoulder at Lobelia's stern, disapproving stare. "Don't go getting me into trouble again, please, Chinisi."

  Chinisi snorted. "The only mon she would NOT disapprove of would be Crown Prince Henry himself."

  Cordwainer joined his wife, and Lobelia's glower vanished into a pleasant smile as he led her onto the dance floor. Stygean breathed a sigh of relief, returning his attention to Chinisi. "You're pretty enough for a prince."

  "Not you too." Chinisi rolled her eyes heavenward in exasperation. "I know I'm pretty and I hate it."

  Stygean's cheeks burned. "I meant that as a compliment."

  "Oh, I'm certain you did. But I'd rather when people met me they said 'She's smart' and not 'She's pretty.' Being pretty and smart usually equals being thought of as odd. I adore Uncle Geoffry, but even he is quick to say I'm odd. In fact, he said it just yesterday when he caught Captain Settlesby teaching me how freerangers leave signs and markers on trails by arranging rocks on the ground. Fascinating stuff, but Uncle Geoffry killed my joy in the lesson with that remark."

  Stygean swallowed back the temptation to agree with her uncle.

  "Enough talk. Let's dance." Chinisi grasped his hand and headed for the swirling sea of dancers.

  With pounding heart and shaking nerves, Stygean allowed Chinisi to lead him. "I don't know how to dance."

  She whispered back to him. "Don't worry, I said I'd teach you."

  He had made certain that he fed before coming so that he did not embarrass himself with an unwitting display of fangs. Although there were less controllable physical reactions to being this close to Chinisi for this long that made him vaguely uncomfortable and which he prayed she did not notice.

  Glancing quickly at the others, Stygean put his free hand on her shoulder.

  His brown cheeks darkened to a dusky rose when she moved his hand to her waist and began guiding him through the steps.