The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 2 Blood Honor and Dreams (52 page)

“What’s that all about?” Shade asked Charm
when he noticed the rogue was watching the disturbance as well.

The Firym was fighting against those holding
him again, writhing like a trapped wildcat in an effort to break
loose. The crowd parted slightly to admit a slender dark haired Fae
in shining plate mail. The Firym seemed to calm a bit as the man
approached and resorted to waving a hand toward the Delvay and from
the looks of it cursing violently to the Fae.

“That’s Havoc. He has been pissed since he
received word of his Aunt’s death. Who can say what started the
fight. Crasmin might have said ‘good morning’ in the wrong tone,
for all I can guess. When Havoc wants a fight he is a bastard to be
around. Still, I can’t say that I blame him, considering,” Charm
explained with a shrug.

“Considering what?” Shade asked, glancing
away from the men to look at Charm.

“Considering she was assassinated and all
fingers are pointing toward her son as the killer. Havoc’s own
blood. No one knows for sure, of course, but the suspicion is
strong.” Charm seemed to be lost in thought for a moment and then
nodded. “Well there is the rub, actually, RenDelvayon was killed
last night. That would explain the fight with Crasmin. If the brute
was stupid enough to throw that death into Havoc’s face, he earned
that bloody lip. Anyone that has been in the Fionaveir longer than
a year knows better than to fuck with Havoc. He is like a Bendazzi
with a burr in its foot. Cranky and dangerous, and that’s on a good
day, unless you are his friend.”

“How can they know for sure that it was her
son?” Shade asked, a bit confused. Assassins as a rule were rather
secretive and they didn’t exactly sign their work.

Charm snorted in amusement and glanced at
Shade. “Well, I suppose it wouldn’t be as obvious to you since you
don’t know Havoc’s family. Havoc’s true name is Kijani Firym. His
aunt was Adana Firym the High mage of the Firym nation. There are
only a few people that could have gotten into her rooms while she
slept, and only two that I know that are Assassins. One is named
Hemlock and is locked away behind a Barrier in Sanctuary. The other
is Sovaesh, her son.”

“Finn’s father?” Shade gasped, and looked
directly at Charm. “But Finn is on our side. Why would his father
be killing our allies?”

“Just because Finn is helping us, doesn’t
mean Sovaesh is. Sovaesh serves the Avanti. It’s a long story but
the short of it is, he fell in love with the wrong woman. He ended
up getting exiled and suffering through several trials to prove his
loyalty in order to marry the woman.” Charm paused and stared at
Havoc a moment, then shook his head slowly. “Still, I would have
never guessed that he would kill his own blood. There is scarcely a
sin that is greater in the Firym’s eyes. If they find proof that
Sovaesh truly killed her, not even the Avanti will be able to keep
him safe from his own family.”

Shade turned back to regard the Firym who
seemed calmed down now and was sitting by the Fae knight. His
temper did remind Shade of Finn. The duelist had always seemed too
eager to fight. He tried to imagine an entire nation of men like
that and shuddered at the thought. No wonder his father had never
started conflicts with the Firym in the past. “Hey, Charm,” he said
after a moments consideration.

“Hmm?” Charm looked over at him, still
chewing on the strand of grass.

“Which will be more important to the Firym,
stopping the Blights in Faydwar or punishing Adana’s killer?” he
asked, watching the rogue’s expression.

The grass stem went a bit limp in Charm’s
mouth and the rogue turned his gaze back toward Havoc. “That is a
very good question, Shade,” he said quietly and shook his head
again. “If it’s not the Blights then the Firym are fools. If they
turn their back on Faydwar right now they will be the next
overrun.”

“Kind of how I saw it,” Shade muttered and
then fell silent as Lutheron stepped back to the center of the
courtyard and raised his hands for their attention. Lutheron wasn’t
what Shade would describe as a handsome man. His features were just
a bit too sharp for that. The fine chain mail and black tabard he
wore now did make him striking though. He had that special quality
about him that all Lords sought for in their commanders. When
Lutheron spoke, men listened. The courtyard around him had fallen
silent the moment Lutheron had raised his hand.

Looking around at them all, the dark haired
commander nodded his thanks to them for their obedience and lowered
his arm. “You all have your groups, now. You know who will be
leading you. I will not give you a time of attack because I do not
have a time of attack. We will be acting on a moment’s notice so I
need you all vigilant. Be ready when I call.” He turned in a slow
circle as he spoke, his dark eyes traveling over everyone
present.

Shade straightened a bit when the man looked
directly at him and felt foolish for a moment. Until he noticed
everyone else was doing the same. He turned his eyes back to
Lutheron and studied the man closer. There was something about him
and he couldn’t put his finger on it. Some part of Lutheron
demanded the best from everyone, and everyone strove to deliver
their best to him. Shade searched inside himself, examining the
emotion closer and realized with confusion that he was actually
afraid of disappointing Lutheron.

The only other soul that had ever made him
feel fear like that was his father. He shook his head slowly,
watching Lutheron. He barely knew the man. There was no reason for
him to hold that kind of fear. It was unreasonable.

His mind drifted back to the bombing of
Eldagar and the powerful magic the commander had worked. Not even a
Han’shy mind mage should have been able to cover that large an area
with that strong of Emotion. “Shit, he is the Aspect of Fear,” he
muttered to himself as the pieces clicked together. That made no
sense though. Aspects were strictly forbidden from acting as
Lutheron was. They had made a pact long ago with the High Houses to
stay out of politics and in return they were left in peace.

Charm elbowed him hard in the stomach and
gave him a warning glare. “You have no idea what you are saying so
be silent,” he hissed and Shade glanced over at the rogue. But
Charm wouldn’t meet his eyes. His gaze was locked firmly on
Lutheron as the commander began to speak again.

“Taking back Sanctuary will not be easy. We
will be outnumbered, but we will have surprise on our side. Fight
with everything you have, Fionaveir. This battle will shape the
course of the entire war. We will win! We must win! Sanctuary
cannot be lost to them!” Lutheron’s words echoed off the stone
walls. He turned in another slow circle, and nodded to the
assembly. With a final glance toward Symphony, he left them there
and made his way toward the door leading back into the hall. The
courtyard seemed almost empty without him, despite the crowd of
Fionaveir.

Shade felt his heart thudding painfully
against his ribs as the silence grew. By the expression on the
faces around him, Lutheron’s words had the same effect on all of
them. There was no doubt in his mind that every warrior here would
fight to his last breath. They were simply too afraid of failure to
do otherwise.

Sanctuary

Music filled the square with a joyous sound
that Jala found unsettling. It didn’t seem right to have a
festival, considering their current situation. Finn and Neph had
insisted however and to her surprise Wisp had supported it. They
said it would relax the commons and help them weather the siege. So
they had strung bright colored lanterns and hired musicians. That,
combined with alcohol, and the commons didn’t need a real reason to
celebrate. They had lived in poverty for so long that the sheer
abundance of food and drink was reason enough for a festival to
them.

She sighed heavily and tried to enjoy the
night. It was hard to find happiness, however, when she could see
Valor sitting by himself as far from the lanterns as he could
manage. He deeply mourned the loss of his sister and there had been
no sign of his niece in the three days since Chastity’s death. It
seemed almost cruel to have a celebration while one of her friends
was in mourning. She started to suggest to Finn that he should go
keep the knight company, but when she turned to him she caught him
staring at Wisp. The Fae was beautiful tonight in a gorgeous light
green gown. Her hair fell down like a midnight curtain across her
delicate back.

She looked from Wisp back to Finn and kept
the frown from her face. It was the third time tonight she had
noticed him looking in the Fae’s direction. Perhaps he is thinking
of how to get her out of the city. She considered the idea, but
pushed it away quickly. She had spoken with him about it just
yesterday and he hadn’t seemed concerned. They had decided that it
might be best if Wisp went with all of them. With the amount of
mage stones they had stored up it wouldn’t take long to restore
enough of Merro for the few people she had to survive there. That,
and if she was right about the angle of his gaze, he wasn’t simply
watching Wisp, he was watching Wisp’s backside.

Her eyes narrowed slightly and she sought the
link between the two of them. She sensed impatience and a high
level of anxiety there, not at all the emotions Finn was
displaying. He was good at hiding his true feelings, though. He
glanced back at her and smiled, reaching over to take her hand. His
expression was a bit sheepish at first, but quickly relaxed. She
squeezed his hand firmly and returned the smile. There was no sweat
on his palm. No matter how good you were at hiding emotions, the
body still betrayed a few, such as sweaty hands when feeling
anxious. She studied the glass in his hand and watched him down the
last of the wine before she squeezed tightly down on his hand in a
bone jarring grip. Finn didn’t drink wine unless there was no other
option. Finn preferred Firewater. His brother however was a wine
connoisseur.

“Ouch! Damn, Jala. What?” he asked staring
down at his hand in shock.

“Ouch?” she repeated dryly. She kept her
expression sweet with a faint smile and shook her head at him.
“Finn doesn’t say ouch ever, Sovann. Not even when there is a sword
stuck through his guts. Where is my husband?” she said in a voice
that threatened more pain if he didn’t answer quickly.

Sovann paled considerably as he regarded her.
Overall he had done a very good job of impersonating Finn’s
appearance. The attitude as well as his attraction to Wisp had
given him away, however. Sovann was so different from his brother
in personality that they could hardly hold an extended conversation
without one of them getting irritated and Finn never looked at
other women.

“Answer me!” Jala snapped, tightening her
grip on his hand. If Finn had gone through all of this trouble with
the festival and his brother’s impersonation, then he was up to
something she wouldn’t approve of at all - again.

“I don’t know where he is exactly, Jala,”
Sovann began and then held a hand up in surrender as her expression
darkened.

“Quit that! Finn is never cowed by me. If you
must show a reaction, either laugh or look guilty and that will
mimic him perfectly,” she snapped, turning her head to look around
the square to make sure no one was watching them. “Now tell me how
he talked you into this and it may give me an idea of where he is.”
She felt her heart lurch painfully as her imagination created
scenarios in her mind.

“He said to be ready for the signal and to
stay on guard.” Sovann hesitated and she squeezed his hand
painfully again to encourage him. “And he said that you couldn’t be
involved in what he was doing in any way. that you must not be
implicated with what had to be done,” he finished quietly.

“What signal?” she demanded. releasing his
hand. Her breath was coming more quickly now as the created images
in her mind grew darker still. By the gods. at times. an
imagination was a curse. She reminded herself of all of the times
she had worried needlessly and forced herself back to calm. With
another faint smile. she raised an eyebrow at Sovann. still waiting
for her answer.

He scratched at the back of his neck and
shifted. The expression on his face suggested that he would rather
be anywhere else in Sanctuary than where he was right now. It was
an impressive display of guilt that she knew had nothing at all to
do with his acting skills. “I don’t know exactly what it is
supposed to be. When I asked him about it he laughed. You know
Finn,” he paused and shrugged at her. “Isador was with him when he
talked to me. I think it has to do with the Fionaveir somehow.”

She nodded and stood slowly. Looking around
the crowd she searched for any sign of the Fionaveir. She had been
sticking fairly close to Joseph and Jala had thought she was trying
to recruit him. Now. she wasn’t so sure. Looking down at Marrow she
sighed. “Where is Emily?” she asked quietly.

She didn’t want to be near the festival.
She said putting so much food in one place was too much
temptation
, Marrow replied in an amused voice that clearly said
the Blight hadn’t been speaking of the well laden tables.

Nodding, Jala searched the crowd again and
her frown deepened. “Find Neph for me,” she said to Marrow and then
turned back to Sovann. “Do try to not molest Wisp in that
particular form. I know you two are growing more attached to each
other but if you feel the need, please change your appearance.”
Sovann’s face grew hot with the suggestion and he quickly looked
away with a nod.

Marrow was already pacing through the crowd,
his nose and ears twitching as he sought any sign of Neph in the
mass of people. Jala followed after him, ignoring the few curious
glances she got from individuals, and simply smiled in return as if
all was well in the world.