Blood Lies (Dark Brothers of the Light #9) (13 page)

Anksha shook her head. "When I bite them
they cannot rise. My Isranon will not rise undead when he dies. I
bit him." A long sob broke from her throat as she turned from the
dead sa'necari. "My poor Isranon."

"How does he feel about that?"

For answer, Anksha crouched down and sang to
them in purring tones,

A twilight path that runs east of the
sun

So that my hand summons Dawn before I
die

To stand in the light, to know its touch

So my hand touches God before I die.

I will not fear my blood upon another’s
lips,

I will step into the flames of
righteousness,

Sweet suffering of freedom for my
belief,

I will burn, but I shall not rise in
darkness

A path at twilight runs east of the sun.

Dawn now summons for me to die,

The path is barred, the gates are
locked,

I rest, I dream, from me they’ll hear no
cry.

I never found the twilight path of shadowed
sun,

Yet sun it was. In the light I could not
touch,

I built my house of sticks and set it
burning.

This day I die, from fate I will not
run.

I stand within the womb of the flames.

I perish reaching for the Dawn

My honor clean, my ash remains

I have not lived in vain.

Merick shivered. "I shall never understand
your Isranon, but I'm drawn to him."

The mages shared a disturbed glance and went
silent until Koejelus spoke up. "I think we have seen enough for
the day. We have much to consider before we make our final
decision."

Teague nodded and led the retreat back to
the stairs.

Anksha lingered, staring up into Nans' face.
"Did I do something bad?"

"No, Mama Lion, you did fine." Nans lifted
Anksha and the demon-eater settled in her arms, head laid on Nans'
shoulder and legs tight around her waist. "I want my Isranon."

"I'll take you there."

Merick stole closer to the corpse and saw
the skull mark burned into its forehead. "Not all of them have that
mark. What is it?"

Anksha peered over Nans' shoulder at him and
abandoned her childhood dialect to speak in clear Engla. "Those I
took first do not have them. Isranon cast Revelation, and those we
had not yet found were marked by it."

"Revelation?" Cordwainer's brows went up.
"Less than one mage in a thousand can cast that."

* * * *

An unused wing of the manor quartered
Isranon's army with the officers on the upper floor. The nibari had
been quartered on the floor between the officers and the lower
ranks to make access to them limited and guarded. One end became
the military brothel and the other the common room.

Captain Luck Settlesby had the day off.
Isranon and Nans had not yet given their soldiery leave to enter
Ildyrsetts, so old habits drew Luck to the brothel.

A member of the clerical staff sat at a
desk. Behind him the nibari lounged on sofas and chairs. Some sat
at the small tables chattering and playing games. They were all
nude, so that the soldiery could more easily make their choices and
get what they wished for. Several of the officers on the march had
expressed a preference for shaven pudendums. Nainee, the head
nibari, had seen to it that their desires were met. Nearly half of
them had been shaved.

Rank had its privileges. Officers could
check one out for the day or keep them overnight in their chambers.
His cock reacted and a lecherous smile touched his lips as he
scanned the chamber.

"Don't see the one you want?" asked the
clerk, turning the book around so that Luck could sign it.

"Farris." Luck took a pen from the holder
and added his name to the list. Most of the signatures were X’s
with a clerical notation of who made their mark.

"You won't find her. She's been taken out of
service."

"Why?"

"She's pregnant."

"Then it's confirmed? You're breeding them?"
Surprise mingled with his disappointment.

"No. We're very careful to rotate them out
when they come into season."

"Rape?" Nibari only came into season every
ninety days for a brief time. Usually no more than five to seven
days, mounting them during their fertile days resulted in pregnancy
ninety-nine percent of the time. Someone must have gotten to his
favorite.

"You can't rape a nibari. They're too
compliant, too docile. No, some soldier must have lured her out of
quarters during her fertile period. We've had six or seven cases
like this. They'll probably give birth on the battlefield."

"Any idea who is doing it?"

"We would have to Read the entire army to
identify the sire. We haven't time for that. So we're not even
investigating it."

"I see." Luck scowled at the clerk's
indifference. He counted nibari among his friends.

"So pick another."

"Pick another..." Luck muttered under his
breath. The news had cost him his erection. "Pick another, damnit."
Whoever had mounted Farris during her fertile time had known what
the result would be. He had gotten her belly swollen, probably out
of vanity. The situation most likely did not bother Farris. Yet it
bothered Luck. He hoped the guilty mon had been gentle with her.
Which of them is closest to Farris?
"Mardra."

The clerk clapped his hands. All of the
nibari ceased what they were doing and turned their attention to
him. "Mardra!"

The attractive, little blonde reminded him
of the lycan bitches in camp, pear-shaped with broad hips and
curves in all the right places. The nibari herd were all beautiful.
Most of them had been taken as reparations from the estates of the
sa'necari Isranon's forces had vanquished at Ocealay. They were all
sa'necari or vampire trained – and ugliness or plainness was not
tolerated by those owners. They put down those who were less than
attractive at puberty.

Mardra was one of twenty or so that Isranon
had brought with him when he fled Hoon's mansion in Minnoras ahead
of the Empress's army after the city fell. She was vampire-bred and
trained but a pampered pet, unlike the ones they had taken from the
sa'necari of Ocealay.

Mardra's loins were bare as a child's.

"How long will you be wanting her?" the
clerk asked.

"I'm taking her for the day." Luck touched
the officer's patch on his shoulder in case the clerk might decide
to question his privileges.

"Then you'll have to sign her out."

Luck added a notation to the book.

Mardra put her hand on his arm. Her touch
jolted his loins, and his cock hardened. That decided Luck. While
he intended to talk to her, he also needed to get inside her. A
night with her in his bed would certainly go a long way toward
easing the lingering stresses of the long journey.

She threw on a robe, and he took her to his
private suite.

Luck fondled her breast, bringing a tiny
smile from her. Then Mardra dropped to the floor in first position,
arms behind her back, head tilted to expose her neck.

Luck stripped, tossing his clothes onto a
chair and laying his sword across the arms. He had acquired a copy
of the
Twenty-Six Positions Of Surrender
by Statyranis – a
heavily illustrated nibari training manual written by and for the
sa'necari. It made telling the nibari what he wanted easier. Only
the final one, the twenty-sixth, showed a position he would never
try: it was the death position on an altar of mortgiefan.

"Fifth position, Mardra."

Mardra clambered onto the bed, leaned
against the headboard and put her heels behind her head. Luck
climbed on and slipped his cock into her. He rubbed her thighs,
played with her nipples, and then gave one long thrust. Her vagina
sucked his member, and Luck nearly forgot himself.

"Farris is pregnant?"

"Yes." She moaned and trembled under his
ministrations.

"Who did it?" Luck settled into a slow
rhythm.

"Not supposed to tell on the masters."

Luck sucked in a sharp breath and went still
inside her. Mardra had just eliminated most of the army.

"There's no harm in it, Mardra. No harm at
all. Was it Isranon?"

"No."

Luck picked his rhythm up again. "Isranon
will want to know for the sire book."

"Sire book?" Mardra shivered as he struck
the best spots inside her. "What's that?"

"The record book. When a master sires one,
they record it. What do I write down?"

"Stygean."

* * * *

Following dinner, Edvarde retired to a
smaller, less formal chamber where he often gathered the mages of
Ildyrsetts for drinks and pleasantries. Edvarde seated Isranon at
the head of the table with Geoffry Cordwainer to his right and
Teague Merishin to his left. Koejelus had the next seat down from
Teague, sitting across from Edvarde. Cordwainer's wife, Lobelia,
sat at the far end with Anksha. Father Telamon, Nans and Merick
also joined them there.

Teague filled a snifter of brandy and
wandered the room, sipping at it and examining the shelves. She ran
her gaze across the books first and pulled one out. "Wherever did
you find this one, Edvarde? I've been looking for a copy for the
last century."

She smiled lopsidedly at the bright look
that brought to Edvarde's eyes. "It was found by a close friend who
fell into a bit of the north coast ruins. He came up with a lot of
interesting stuff."

"I'm certain he must have." Teague drifted
close to Nans. "I am certain you must find a lot of interesting
things also, Lady Troll." Teague turned away, snickering into her
snifter.

Color rose in Nans' cheeks. "One of these
days, Teague..."

"Doubtless." Teague shrugged, feigning a
yawn.

Koejelus caught the tail end of their
exchange, muttering, "Catfights. Always catfights..." He glanced
down the table and watched Lobelia and Anksha for a moment. "I see
the wives have found each other. Probably discussing gewgaws."

"Speaking of wives, where is yours? I was
certain Nadine would wish to be in on our little outings," remarked
Cordwainer.

"Rowanhart. She's taken our sons there to
have a look at that new school, the Azure Circle I think they're
calling it. Going to teach some classes – probably take some also.
I suspect she intends to stay there for the duration of the
conflict."

Anksha favored Lobelia with a feline grin,
displaying her fangs, and said in perfect Engla, "This is a
splendid little party. The pastries are delicious."

Lobelia gave a startled look, but recovered
quickly. "I like the honey ones myself. And that is a lovely
necklace you're wearing, dear."

"You like them?" Anksha dripped jewels:
necklace, rings, bracelets and dangling earrings. Concerned about
the mages' impressions of her, she had returned to being Lord
Hoon's refined weapon, rather than Isranon's kitten. All lady and
very dangerous.

"Very much. Lord Isranon must be very
wealthy to provide you with such."

Anksha laughed. "He did not give me these."
She patted the diamonds and rubies hanging at her throat. "This one
was a gift from Prince Shintar."

Lobelia choked on a sip of wine. "You knew
Shintar?"

Anksha shrugged. "I also knew Waejonan."

Lobelia made a sign against evil and went
chalky white.

Isranon saw the look of horror on Lobelia's
face and the sign she made, and wondered what Anksha had said to
her.

Merick followed Isranon's gaze. "I would not
worry about it. Lobelia is easily offended and most of the wives
don't like her."

"Just the wives?" Isranon watched Anksha's
tail uncurl and lap over the back of her chair with the tip
flicking nervously.

"Not just the wives." Merick leaned close
and whispered in Isranon's ear, "Koejelus and I have never trusted
her, but this is not the place to discuss it. Might I come to your
chambers early tomorrow?"

"Certainly." Isranon's brow furrowed in
thought as he turned to Father Telamon. "Some of the spells in
Abelard's journals appear to be priest spells. I did not know that
priests had spells."

"We don't. We have rituals and prayers."
Father Telamon refilled his wine glass.

"Perhaps it is a prayer then."

"What's it called?"

"Kiss the Divine Winds."

Father Telamon paled. "That's extremely
dangerous."

"Is it a prayer?"

"Yes and no. It's an invocation. Allow me to
repeat myself, it is one of the most dangerous you will ever
encounter."

"How so?"

"It kills the caster. It originated as a
revelation given to a priest of Kalirion by the god himself. The
priest wrote it down or we would have no knowledge of it. When he
cast it to defeat an invading army and save his people, he
destroyed himself as well as the invaders. The power unleashed is
too great for a mortal body – and many lesser immortal ones – to
sustain. It consumes them."

"I memorized it on the ride north."

Teague drifted closer with Nans at her
heels. "You're talking about the Divine Winds?"

Isranon's eyes went distant, and he gave her
the tiniest nod. "I'm not afraid to use it."

"And die?"

"I'm already dying. What does it matter
whether I die soon or late, so long as I stop the Minnorians?"

Merick moved to the table where Isranon sat.
"There is a cure. Mortgiefan."

"I won't live at that price. I would rather
die with my honor clean."

"How long do you have?" asked Koejelus.
"You're asking us to ride with you, but we cannot hope to win
without your power."

"My liege-god would not have set me this
task if he believed I would die before I achieved his goal."

"You have given us much to consider," said
Cordwainer. "The godmark is real, and so are the texts you've shown
us." He shook his head regretfully. "As tempted as I am by this,
I'm just not ready to make a commitment. However, we have plenty of
time. The passes will not thaw out for months yet."