The Greyfriar (Vampire Empire, Book 1) by Clay & Susan Griffith;Clay Griffith;Susan Griffith (35 page)

"That isn't much use to me. I refuse to remain a prisoner."

"You don't seem much like a prisoner, if you pardon my saying."
Morgana jutted her chin at Adele's arsenal.

The princess scowled. "A prison can be more than four walls."

Morgana waved to a man with a flirtatious smile. "That's Thomas.
He's a butcher."

"A butcher?" Adele was noticing shops of sorts in the buildings that
weren't demolished. And her stomach rumbled. "I'd buy you a meal, but
I don't have any money."

"Money? There's little money here. Most of us here have a talent or
we lend services, like gathering wood for fires or repairs. Any such
thing, really. You'll see when we get to Mary's."

"But I don't know what I could offer."

"Can you cook or clean?"

"Cook, no, but I suppose I could clean."

"Well, 01' Mary will let you make use of the tubs and soaps. Just
wash the clothes yourself and then perhaps you could just assist Mary
with some of her duties. That should compensate her."

Ahead of them rose stately spires with little crowns on them. The
architecture was markedly different than those surrounding it. It was a
massive structure.

"That is the High Kirk of St. Giles," Morgana pointed out.

"Kirk?"

"Church."

"Is it safe to go in?"

"Aye. There are meetings there every Sunday."

"Meetings?"

"Services."

"Worship services? Gareth allows such a thing?"

Morgana regarded her oddly. "Of course. Why would it matter to
him?"

Adele was surprised Gareth did not suppress religious rituals. A
sudden coldness drew Adele's eyes up to the lofty spires of St. Giles,
where she saw a dark shape.

The servant looked up, protecting her eyes against the glare in the
slate grey sky with the flat of her hand. "It's Prince Gareth."

Immediately Adele's anger flared. "I told you I was a prisoner."

Morgana let her hand drop. "I'd wager he's keeping an eye on you so
you don't place yourself in danger. I'm surprised he didn't warn you
about wandering about outside the city."

"He did."

Morgana raised an eyebrow. "You are a headstrong one, then. Probably giving him fits about now."

"Good."

"Miss, I don't know why you've come to hate him so."

"He made me a promise," Adele voiced softly, unable to hide the
pain of it. "I found out it was all a lie."

"I don't know about that, but I'm sorry if he did."

The princess took the young woman's arm and squeezed with affection. Maybe that was why fate had chosen her to be captured, Adele suddenly thought. Perhaps she was to witness these people and bring back
word of what was really going on in Europe. This was not a continent of
cattle. Adele swore when she became empress she would try to help
these people and free them from the tyranny that repressed them. That
one good thought cheered her as the two women wandered on through
the city.

Cesare's eyes were closed. His breathing was shallow. His bony fingers
clutched the arms of his thronelike chair. His voice was slow and icy.
"It's been nearly a week."

Flay didn't respond. She waited in the center of the Commons.

Cesare continued, "She could be back in her father's embrace by
now."

Flay said, "She has not left Britain, my lord."

The prince opened his eyes. "Do you wager your life on that?"

"Yes." If Flay did not find Princess Adele, she would certainly die.
It was simple. "My hunters are widening their circles. We know she left
Canterbury with the Greyfriar and went to the shore."

"To a boat," Cesare growled. "To cross the Channel."

"No, Sire. My networks on the Continent are excellent. She has not
landed there. And I had scouts over the Channel within the hour of her
departure. While it is very difficult to track over water, my hunters are
the best in all the clans."

Cesare stood suddenly. "You have ruined me, Flay! Why should you
live another minute?"

"I shouldn't if you will it. But I can find Princess Adele. She sailed
north with the Greyfriar."

Cesare pursed his lips in annoyance. "Greyfriar. How often will that
human shame you? Perhaps he should be my war chief."

Flay stared hard at her prince.

Cesare stepped down from his dais and said with a mocking humor, "Why would they go north? Is there a free human settlement somewhere
you don't know about? Is this Greyfriar operating out of Whitby under
your very nose?"

"There is no free human settlement, my lord. It is possible they
merely went north to lose the pursuit-"

"And it worked!"

11
-to lose the pursuit. And now they are ashore and in hiding. I will
find them."

Cesare inclined his head with doubt.

Flay said suddenly, without fanfare, "I believe they went to
Scotland."

The prince narrowed his eyes. "Are you suggesting, in your pathetic
desperation, that Gareth is in league with this Greyfriar?"

Flay pressed on with her conclusion. "No, of course not, but attend,
my lord. There are fewer of us there. Gareth is protective of his territory.
Adele could hide there for years without encountering a vampire. Scotland. The daring choice. It's what Greyfriar would do."

"Flay, you are quite dangerous. You rightly say that Gareth is jealous
of his barren little territory. Do you honestly believe I could just barge
into Scotland checking behind draperies for Princess Adele? I dare not
give Gareth any excuse to raise some stink over protocol. The clan is still
on edge after the attack on the Tower."

Which I beat back, Flay thought, snarling that Cesare neglected to
mention her successes.

The prince resumed his seat. The human attack, small though it had
been, on the clan capital had put concerns in some of the lords' heads over
leadership. Some of Cesare's enemies had suggested moving the king into
hiding and turning the management of the clan over to the "heir." By
which they meant Gareth. Cesare had managed to calm the storm and was
prepared to calm it further by assassinating troublemakers.

Flay asked, "Do I have permission to send hunters into Scotland?"

Cesare took a deep breath. Flay's theory that the princess might have
fled to Scotland had some merit. It was possible that a human refugee
could slip into that barren territory unnoticed and make her way with
Gareth's neglected herds.

"Seek the princess where you will." Cesare paused, making it clear
he was not giving explicit permission to enter Gareth's territory.

Flay bowed in acceptance. Scotland. It had to be Scotland. She was
sure that the princess had not made it to the Continent. As sure as she
could be with Greyfriar in the mix.

Greyfriar.

Flay growled deep in her throat. Cesare had placed his thumb on her
rawest wound. The man had taken her prize twice. It was inconceivable.
How did he do it? She was the most feared war chief in Europe. She
turned to leave.

Cesare murmured, "Flay, I will prepare a ship to retrieve the prisoner. And I will come north with it. Remember, your life is being
counted in days."

"As you will, dread lord."

"Just so."

Adele spent the day with Morgana and 01' Mary, who was delighted by
the company. The older woman helped Adele clean her clothes and
mend them as well. She loaned Adele a change of clothes, another set of
homespun. The princess had long since forgotten about style and silk.
In return, Adele refilled the washtubs. Her hands were red from the hot
water and the cold air. Thankfully her palms were calloused enough
from hours of swordplay not to blister from lugging pails.

When they took a break for lunch, 01' Mary brought out a hunk of
cheese and Adele eagerly shared the bread from Gareth's table. Morgana
had brought some apples and sliced them up. It was a fine meal. This
method of barter was more fulfilling than Adele would have thought.

Mary tottered off to check on the tubs, leaving the two younger
women alone. Morgana was good company. And Adele couldn't help her
curiosity over a life in Gareth's Edinburgh.

"Does it hurt when the prince feeds off you?" Adele asked.

Morgana raised her head slowly, unsure what answer this woman
was looking for. "At first, like a sharp prick of a sewing needle. The rest is rather odd-warm almost. He always permits us to look away if we
wish. He's actually quite embarrassed sometimes."

"That's disgusting," Adele muttered without thinking.

Morgana rose abruptly and gathered the dishes.

Adele grabbed her hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"You wanted to know what it was like here. Now you do. What you
think of it is your business, of course. But don't judge us too harshly. Life
is hard anywhere, and we make do the best we can."

"I didn't mean to look down on you. It's just ... I'm not ..."

"Different folk have different customs."

"I had no idea what life was like up here. I've learned so much
already. Humans do thrive here, in a way, at least better than we all
believe. I just wish so much more for you."

"Someday, perhaps that will be so." Morgana smiled genuinely. "I
may even be alive to see it if Gareth gains the throne in place of his
brother."

"You have that much faith in Gareth?"

"More than most." She looked Adele in the eye before departing for
Mary's kitchen.

Near dusk, with all the chores finished, Adele and Morgana walked
up Castle Hill again. Adele was tired. She was looking forward to a hot
meal and a warm bed.

Gareth's shadow flew past her toward the ramparts, a black spot
against the grey sky. He had watched her all day, staying on the rooftops.
She certainly hoped she had inconvenienced him.

The temperature dropped as Adele entered the stone walls of the
castle once more. Morgana retired to her own quarters, leaving Adele to
walk empty halls-empty except for cats, of course. The animals welcomed her, so she took a moment to kneel and greet them. The greyand-white cat was among the crowd, and he pushed his way to the front.
Smiling, she picked him up and carried him to her room. He purred all
the way.

H S WA breaking through the clouds for the first time in
the many days since Adele's arrival. She was pleased to feel the
sunlight on her face, warming her cheeks. The windows of the castle
only allowed narrow shafts of light to pierce the gloom of the interior,
so she decided to take a walk around the grounds.