Nightlord: Sunset (83 page)

“You want to bother him with
that?
”

“He’s in with her ladyship.  Are you sure you want to interrupt him?”

“He told me to handle anything of that sort.”

“I hate to tell you to shut up—but that won’t stop me.  Shut up.”

“Because I say so.  If you want to hear
him
say so, I’ll send
you
in to wake him up and a dozen men to gather wood for your pyre.”

I love these two.  The only thing that would make this trip better would be Travis.

I’m off to get double-double-teamed again; more later.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 14
TH

V
alentine’s Day.  They don’t have it here, at least not by that name nor on this date.  I bought a pendant in city called Chavi two days ago.  I like it; it’s about eighteen to twenty inches of light gold chain with an orange gem in a simple setting.  It was expensive, but I defrayed part of the cost with a couple of spells for the shopkeeper.

Tamara loved it.  I suspect she’d have loved it if I’d tied a rock to a piece of string and called it a pendant; she’s like that.  I felt suitably rewarded when she untied her top and insisted I put the pendant on her.  She’s well aware of my libido, and since I had just told her I found her beautiful, she was feeling beautiful.  I have the strangest effect on her.  And, come to think of it, she on me.

I’m looking forward to spring.  She tells me that Planting Moon is a lot like St. Valentine’s Day; agriculturally, it’s time to start getting seed in the ground.  Socially, people exchange love-tokens, declare betrothals, and spend a lot of time making merry and making babies.  I’m promised she’ll have something special for me.

Curiosity is killing me.

Apparently the women gossip around the campfires while the men beat on each other.  A couple of them have joined in the weapon practice, mainly because I encourage it, but the vast majority don’t seem to have much interest. 

Hellas
has recovered from her weakness and I’m glad; it pains me to think about her coming so close to dying, and then being ill for so long.  I owe her. 

She was up and about when we camped for the evening; she accosted me after dinner.

“Lord?”

“Yes?”

“I am told that today is a day for the exchange of lovers’ tokens.” 

“In my homeland, yes,” I admitted.

She took a deep breath and blushed furiously.  “Lord… may I ask a favor?”

I felt a little apprehensive.  Everyone knows Tamara is “her ladyship,” and that she and I are together.  But I think
Hellas has had a crush on me since the night we met.  I was really afraid I was going to have to turn her down and break her heart.  It wouldn’t do mine any good, either; I like her and don’t want to hurt her.

“Of course you may ask.  What do you wish?”

“I would like to… give someone a gift.”

Oh, yes.  I was definitely starting to worry.  I wondered what Tamara would say.  I wondered if Tamara
knew
.  Surely she did, she had to.  Didn’t she?  I mean, they talked to each other a lot, girl talk, while they rode in the wagon together.  It had to come out at some point.  Right?

“How can I help?” I asked.

“I cannot… I do not have much, lord.”

I leaned down and whispered in her ear, “You have my gratitude and my friendship.  That is more than you may suspect.  Name your desire.”

She drew in her breath, held it for a second, and then blurted, “Muldo.”

I think I stared at her.  She blushed harder and looked down.  I was intensely relieved and maybe just a little pinked in the ego.  There I go, assuming again.

“You said…” she offered, trailing off.  “You said to name…”

“So I did.  But I promised him his freedom when Tamara has her babies.”

She nodded.  “I know, lord.  He has spoken of it often… but I would not have him as my slave.”

“Then what would you have me do?”

“I—I don’t know,” she admitted.  “I love him, my lord.”

I didn’t see that coming.  Interesting wrinkle.

“Very well.  Go tell him I want to talk to him.  Quickly, please; nightfall will not wait.”

She hurried to find him and bring him back.  I sat on the end of a cargo wagon and waited, much like I might have waited on the tailgate of a pickup truck.  They both came up at a run, Muldo looking worried and
Hellas looking flushed.

“Lord?” Muldo asked, going to his knees.  “You have summoned me and I have come.  What is your will?”

I got to my feet and looked down at him.  He looked up at me; I’d insisted on that.  I wasn’t happy with him for being on his knees again, but he’d been a slave since he was six, when his father sold him.  Habit.  At least he didn’t have the downcast eyes anymore.

“
Hellas, go find Tamara and wait with her until I send for you.”  She gulped at that, then went wordlessly.  I continued to regard Muldo.  Normally, whenever he goes to his knees I tell him to get on his feet.  I let him stay kneeling in the snow for a while.

“Muldo, tell me what you know of
Hellas.”

He thought for a second, then said, “She was born at Crag Keep, a whore and a whore’s daughter, lord.  Until you took her as a servant, her life was very hard.  She is grateful that you found her and she loves you.  She bore her son early and nearly died of him.  She has had no other child since and fears she cannot.”  He paused to think.  “She is clever and quick, but is always afraid to be laughed at and made sport of, so she is often silent.  Um… She hates her face and body; she would be beautiful if she could.  She envies Tamara for having you, but loves her ladyship too well to keep that a secret.  Ah, Tamara knows and understands, or so I am told by
Hellas.”

“
Hellas confides in you, then?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“How do you feel about her?”

He shrugged and looked at my boots.  “I like her, my lord.  She is sweet and she is kind to me.”

“Would it surprise you to find she likes you?”

He shifted uncomfortably.  “No, my lord.”

“Would it please you to know such?”

“Yes.  Yes, lord, it would.  But nothing may come of it until the birth of your heirs; I am a slave.”

“That was the agreement, was it not?” I mused.  “Well, I am changing the deal.”

He looked shocked.  “
Lord?
”

“Lift your chin.”

He did so, his eyes brimming.  He was sure I was going to snap a chain onto the ring in his collar; I could see it in his face.  Instead, I unlocked it.  It creaked horribly as I swung the halves open.  I closed it, locked it again, and handed both the key and the collar to him.

“I said I would remove this collar with my own hands.  I promised it.  And so I have.  You’re free now, Muldo Freeman.  From now on, if you kneel to me, go only to one knee—never both—or it will go hard with you.  Do you understand me?”

“Yes, lord,” he whispered, staring at the collar in his hands.

“Good.”  I headed back to the wagon to tell
Hellas.  Tamara and I cuddled up once she was gone; it’s nice to have someone to hold.  I hoped Muldo and Hellas thought so too.

WEDNESDAY,

FEBRUARY 15
TH

T
iming is everything.  I’m glad I gave Tamara her present—and Hellas hers—yesterday.

We rolled through a little place called Veddul a little after noon; it’s a village of maybe two dozen people about one day’s hard march from a small town called Krethmore.  We stopped for a hot meal, a little more fodder, and to get
another
wagon wheel—we broke one crossing some nameless ford I’d like to forget. 

Changing a tire is never fun, and doing it in knee-deep water even less so, especially when a half-dozen strong men are the only thing you have for a jack.  Lucky for us the riverbed was mostly rocks; it gave me something solid to stand on while I took most of the weight.  At least we’re far enough south now that the water wasn’t frozen, just freezing cold. 

I then wasted an hour of our travel time by having the rocky hole responsible for the busted wheel filled in.  We had to get some gravel and clay from elsewhere in the creek packed into the hole; it took some time.  No more busted wheels in
this
ford, dammit!  The King needs to hire a road crew.

Or I need to invent the steel-belted radial.  I wonder if I can get one of those gates and set up an import business?  Nah.  Too much work for one load of tires.  But profitable; people would pay in gold.  I’ll definitely get a reference library if I ever have the chance.

On the way out of town, a man on horseback started to follow us.  Since he was wearing split robes for riding, I assumed he was a wizard.  Nobody wears robes on horseback unless they’re a magic-worker.  Even the clergy break over and wear trousers.  He didn’t seem to be a magician; he had a plain staff, plain robes, and simple gear.  Magicians also don’t get out much, I understand; too fond of time in their towers, studying and practicing.

He waved when we spotted him, so I dropped back to greet him.  He drew alongside and pulled back his hood; I didn’t recognize him.  He was about my height and a little heavier, with dark hair, a wide smile, and ears that might have tended to be ever so slightly pointed.  We kept after my group at a walk.

“Good day,” he offered.  “I am Meryth.”

“Good day,” I returned.  “I am Sir Halar.”

His eyes widened.  “The one of whom the stories are told?”

“Well… yes.”

“Then it is an honor to meet you,” he said, and bowed in the saddle.  “We have a mutual friend.”

“The bard?” I guessed.

“No,” he chuckled, “although I was most impressed with his musical accompaniment.  No, I refer to a magician who spoke with you some months ago.  About mutual favors and possible alliances.”

I thought back to that night by the campfire.

“I’m listening.”

“We have been looking for you ourselves,” he continued, quietly.  “Many of us have been lurking in towns and villages, hoping to catch sight of you that we might speak. 

“It has become apparent that your ire with the Church is great,” he went on, “but we must implore you to cease your assaults on the senior clergy.  Tobias grows ever more influential with each rival who falls to your fangs.”

I stared at him.  I
what?
  I stared at him so long he grew uncomfortable.

“I am sorry if I have offended,” he said, cautiously.  “I am merely relaying a request, sir.”

“I appreciate that,” I returned.  “Unfortunately, I have absolutely no clue what you’re talking about.  Someone is killing off the senior clergy?”

Meryth looked at me sharply.  “You deny your part in these deaths?”

“If I had a part in it, I’d admit it.  I don’t know anything about it.  I’ve been with these people for a month or two, traveling.  What makes you think
I
had anything to do with it?”

Now it was Meryth’s turn to stare at me.  “Twin holes in their necks, about the width of a man’s mouth,” he answered.  “Not a drop of blood left in the bodies, and none to be seen on the floor.  All were slain in the dead of night, and none have survived an attack save only the Lord of the Hand.  He drove you from his chambers with the power of his faith—or claims it is so.”

I shook my head.  “I’m sorry, but I don’t even know where his chambers are—although I’d like to.  I wouldn’t go into them; I’d just shoot him.”

Meryth looked at me keenly.  “I see you speak the truth.”

That reminded me of Brennick, the magician for the Duke Ganelon.  He could do that, too.

“How do you
do
that?” I asked.  “I have a spell that keeps people out of my mind.”

Meryth nodded.  “I see it.  It is most formidable, if unsophisticated.”

“Thanks,” I replied.  “So how do you do it?”

“It is certainly proof against any probe I might make upon it,” he answered, “but it does not shield the lights of your heart.  My spells allow me to dimly see your soul and to know that you believe what you say.”

A spell of vampire eyes! 
I marveled.
  Well, I will be damned!

“I see.  Yes, I do see.  That makes a lot of sense—hey!  What do you mean ‘unsophisticated’?”

He smiled.  “I am sure that, with time, your wizardry will turn to more scholarly endeavors.”

“You’re a magician,” I said, realizing.  “You’re just dressed like a wizard to avoid attracting attention?”

“Indeed.  Bravo.”

“I should have guessed when you said who you were with.  I’m slow today.  But you say you can see I’m telling the truth.  Where does that leave us?”

“With a mystery,” he admitted.  “I will tell the others.”

“You also say that Tobias is gaining power?”

“Yes.  Your campaign against the hierarchy of the Church—or, rather, what most believe to be your campaign—has been steadily thinning their ranks.  Tobias has been taking advantage of the power vacuum.  If this continues, he is a good candidate for the next Patriarch.  With King Relven dying, it is likely he will soon wield considerable political power as well; the Dukes have not settled the succession.  His support will be much sought-after.”

“Did you ever consider that Tobias might be behind it?  He could be murdering them and framing me for it.”

Meryth looked surprised.  “Nonsense!  He is a man driven only by the need to see the world cleansed of evil; I have seen it in his heart.”  He looked sheepish for a moment.  “I once held a post as a crystal-gazer for the Hand,” he admitted.  “I have seen him many times.”

“How recently?” I asked, thinking of some dreams I’ve had.

“Not recently.  It has been more than a year.”

“Look again.”

Meryth frowned in thought, then shrugged.  “When I might, I will.  Since you have not done these deeds, I need no longer concern myself with asking you to cease.  I must now turn our conversation to another matter.”

“Fire away.”

“There is a request by Duke Andalon that you attend him at the capitol.”

“Who the what now?”

He held up a hand.  “Not as a nightlord, but as a wizard knight.  You are the first in living memory, and your fame has spread considerably.”  He chuckled.  “There are many bards who favor certain songs of valor; it is unusual to have a living hero.”

“No kidding,” I muttered.  “Any idea what he wants?”

“To meet and fete you, I understand.  Perhaps you are not aware, but you are well-known across the length and breadth of the kingdom.  Surely, some doubt that you exist, and since tales grow in the telling, many believe that you are not all the bards might claim.  I would venture to guess that almost any man you ask will be able to tell you a tale of yourself.”  He hesitated for a moment, then added, “From the tales, I had expected you to be bigger.”

I sighed.  Just my luck—world-famous and completely unrecognized.  See what happens when you don’t have TV?  I wondered if this was how William Wallace felt.  On the other hand, if the Hand started yammering about how the hero was actually a nightlord, it might be a good thing to be unrecognized.

“Okay.  So, are you an official messenger for Duke Anderson?”

“Duke Andalon,” he corrected.  “And no, I am not.  I merely know of his desire.  Others are abroad with his invitation.”

“Right.  Answer me something.  When a noble wants to find someone or send him a message, how does he do it?  A bunch of riders sent to all points of the compass?”

Meryth’s brows drew together.  “That is one way, yes, if I follow your meaning.  I am not certain what the
compass
is.  But if it is known where the man is, a single rider might be dispatched.  If his lordship knows not, then he will often consult his magician—or hire one—to discover the location.  If that is not possible, then many riders may be sent, or another magician may be sent for to aid in the divinations.”

“So how is Duke Andalon looking for me?” I inquired.

“I understand he has sent riders out to leave word in every town and hamlet through which they pass.”

“How will he know I got the invitation?”

“You will respond to it, of course.  He is a Duke; you are a knight.  You
must
accept.”

My eyebrows rose.  “I must?”

“Of course.”

“Why?”

Meryth seemed to be momentarily at a loss for words.  “Because… because it is so.  He is a
Duke
.”

“So it isn’t an invitation—more of a command performance.”

“I suppose one might view it so,” he said, slowly.  “It is also an honor,” he pointed out.

I sighed.  Well, I could ignore it for a while.  But this business of the higher-ranking clergy dying in a way that pointed straight back at me… I wonder just how much influence the Devourer has on Tobias.  I think It isn’t trying too hard to find me and report me.  It needs an excuse for Tobias to keep coming back and keep using black magic to “cleanse” the world.  I would be willing to bet the idea to advance by assassination wasn’t Tobias’, either.

“All right.  Thanks.  Anything else I should know, or that I can do for you?”

“Actually…”

Crap.

“… yes, if you would,” he finished.

“What is it?”  I tried not to sound tired.

“This matter with the Church,” he went on.  “If Tobias attains the Patriarch’s Seat, then the world may have something more to fear than one reasonable nightlord abroad.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.  He has dismissed his magicians from the employ of the Hand.  Many of us feel that this is because he has come to fear and distrust us.”

“Ah.  And if he hunts nightlords to extinction—again—he may decide that magicians and wizards—being naughty, demon-invoking sorcerers in disguise—may need a good flaying and burning?”

Meryth winced.  “If you wish to phrase it so.  Yes.”

“You know, I was looking forward to settling down in a nice manor, tilling a few fields, and watching an orchard grow.”

“I am sorry the world does not conform with your plans, sir,” he replied, voice a trifle frosty.

“So am I,” I sighed.  “All right.  Where is Tobias staying, these days?  Telen?  Carrillon?”

“Carrillon.”

“Fine.  I’ll want someone to meet me there and show me around.  Can you arrange that?”

“Of course.  Do you plan to kill him?”

“That’s what you’re leading up to, isn’t it?  That’s what you want?” I asked.  I met his eyes, held them, and he dropped his gaze.

“Yes,” he admitted, quietly.

“It’s possible.  I don’t even know the man, and I hate cold-blooded murder.  We’ll save that as a last resort,” I told him.  “I don’t know when I’ll be in town.  It may be sooner or later than a month, but not by too much; I have arrangements to make.  I’ll go there and we can discuss what to do and how to go about it.  Fair?”  

Suddenly, Sasha’s death seems very real and very recent.  Not only does Tobias owe me on that score, but I also have a preemptive reason to see to it he doesn’t repeat the offense.  I won’t have Tamara killed because of one man’s obsession. 

It looks like Hell will soon be demanding its paycheck.  Is it also my job to be a bill collector?

Meryth nodded.  “Eminently fair.  When you arrive in Carrillon, stay at the Inn of the
Golden Horn.  I will see to it that you are met.”

“Okay.  Anything else?”

“That is all I am bid to discuss with you.  I do have some personal matters.”

I nudged Bronze into a slightly faster walk.  “Shoot.”

“I have great respect for the sheer power of your spells.  May I inquire as to your technique?”

“I drink a lot.”

He paled.  “I—” he began, then swallowed heavily.  “I take it to mean that you drink, ah…”

“People,” I supplied.  “I try to stick to people who
want
to die.  And goblins and orcs.  But I won’t scorn to gulp down people who are trying to kill me.  It implies they want to die, so I oblige.”