The Shadow Games: The Chronicles of Arianthem VI (8 page)

“He is hardly a baby anymore,” Jörmung said, “but he will not reach the potential of either of his parents.”

“No,” Volva agreed, “fortunately. And he favors his father far more than his mother. He has all of daddy’s weaknesses: a lack of focus, flighty, shallow to a fault, slave to his appetites. Although I do believe he gets his skill in bed from Talan.”

“I have not had the pleasure,” Jörmung said sullenly.

“No,” Volva said, leaning over to pat him on the cheek. “But you will before this is over.”

The thought made Jörmung’s eyes glow in a decidedly unattractive manner, like the glint of a rat’s eyes as it skulked about in the darkness. “And so why does Drakar hate his mother so?” he asked.

Volva leaned back, laughing, the tinkling sound both cold and metallic, like golden coins spilling into a pile.

“Well, he despises her for killing his father, but the rest is just adolescent angst. He hates her authoritarian manner, for telling him what he can and cannot do, and really, his infatuation with his sister is the best part of all.”

“What?” Jörmung asked, leaning forward with the same, rat-like leer. “What about his sister?”

“He wants to sleep with her something awful. He is obsessed with the thought.”

Jörmung sat back chortling in an even more unattractive manner. “That is rich. So you have promised him his sister? And what will you be doing when he is raping the poor girl?”

“Drakar is a toy,” Volva said carelessly, “a means to an end. He may fuck anything he wishes.”

Volva’s eyes began to glow, but unlike Jörmung’s animal-like glimmering, the light in Volva’s eyes was inorganic, cold and elemental.

“I told him my only condition was that I get to watch.”

Chapter 10

T
he young woman sat in the garden and contemplated the text in front of her. Her lover, Eydis, had told her she enjoyed reading, but she found no joy in the book in front of her. First off, she had difficulty concentrating and the words began to swim in front of her face after the first few paragraphs. The doctor said that could be a lingering side-effect of her head injury. Second, the popular romance she was reading was not very interesting, somewhat bland and vapid, but she kept that opinion to herself. She did not want to disappoint her companion, who had provided her the book with a look of hope on her features. Ostensibly this had been one of her favorite forms of entertainment prior to her accident.

Signe sighed and put the book to the side. She felt restless, although the doctor still insisted she not exert herself. And she kept trying to tell herself to be grateful for the pampered life she led. Servants waited on her hand and foot, she hardly had to lift a hand to even feed herself. She was largely sedentary, a gift compared to the field workers she could see from her window, and she was allowed little exercise other than walks through the well-tended garden. This was again at the insistence of the doctor, although Signe gathered she had not been that active before her accident. Apparently she had been a novice at riding a horse but had insisted, against Eydis’ wishes, to go for a ride which had ended in disaster.

“And how are you feeling today, my love?”

Signe brightened as Eydis flowed into the room. As disoriented as she still was, her love was a ray of light in her fog.

“I feel good today,” Signe said.

Eydis leaned down to kiss her forehead, her breasts spilling forth from her low-cut gown. Signe’s eyes were drawn to the lovely display and Eydis saw her preoccupation.

“You are feeling good!” she exclaimed. “This is wonderful. Perhaps we can nap a bit, after the doctor bleeds you.”

Signe’s expression clouded over. “Must he bleed me? I think I’m fine now.”

Eydis was gently stern. “It’s his opinion that the bleedings have speeded your recovery. They’ve taken the pressure from your head, the one that stole your memories.”

Signe knew nothing of medicine, so she could not argue. She sat docilely while the doctor came in and made his preparations. She winced slightly as he inserted the fine metal needle beneath her skin, then watched as the red fluid flowed down the thin tube into the connected glass jar. In a few minutes, it was over, and the doctor disappeared.

She stood, then swayed unsteadily as Eydis caught her.

“See,” Eydis scolded, “you are not nearly as well as you think you are.”

Signe always felt far weaker after the doctor bled her, but she would not argue. Eydis had nothing but her best interests in mind and was very protective. And although her recovery seemed to progress in fits and starts, she had to admit she was slowly getting better.

“Here, let me put you in bed.”

Eydis escorted the young woman up the stairs, holding her elbow in support. As Signe sat on the edge of the soft bed, Eydis pulled her shirt over her head and undressed her down to a shift and the silk leggings she wore beneath her clothes. Eydis pushed her backward and Signe did not resist as she was tucked into the bed.

“You’re not staying?” Signe said drowsily.

“I will be right back once I send the doctor on his way.”

Signe lie in the bed staring up at the ceiling, feeling a little guilty. It wasn’t even midday and she was back in bed while the workers outside toiled in their labors. Still, it was very pleasant, with the sun coming through the window, the blanket warming her chilled skin. She felt lethargic but it was not a disagreeable sensation, rather it distilled in her a feeling of languor.

Eydis made her way back down stairs and her demeanor changed dramatically when she approached the doctor.

“Give it to me,” she said coldly, and the doctor complied with the fear he hid so well around his patient.

“Now get out.”

The woman took the glass jar into a side room, one which remained locked at all times. It was full of esoteric devices, arcane scrolls, and glass containers with mysterious fluids and powders in them. She took a goblet from a nearby shelf and emptied the blood from the glass jar into it.

She settled into a chair and lifted the goblet to her lips, taking a long draught with great pleasure. She drank the blood slowly, but in its entirety, savoring it as one would enjoy a fine wine. Her pale skin grew bright with the flush of youth, her cheeks glowed with the blush of health. And when the goblet was empty, she took a deep breath, then released it with a sigh of great satisfaction.

She smiled at her reflection in the mirror, marveling at how good she looked and felt. She then headed back up the stairs, intent on bringing her captive to several trembling climaxes before the girl fell into an exhausted slumber for the rest of the day.

Chapter 11

R
aine sat on the cliff’s edge, contemplating the abandoned fort below her. Hestr was once an imperial garrison, but it had fallen into disrepair after years of disuse. The stone walls were crumbling, the metal gate was rusted, and vines threatened to overrun the entire structure. Still, there were signs of recent inhabitants in the courtyard: a shiny cooking pot hanging from a spit, a rack of gleaming swords, and a butcher block that was stained red with blood from who-knows-what.

“That’s not a good sign,” Feyden said, eying the butcher block.

“No it’s not,” Raine said, “but it’s not necessarily a bad one. Only the younger vampyres resort to cannibalism, having not fully transitioned from food to blood. The practice is repulsive to the elder and barely tolerated.”

“So there are young here?”

“It’s hard to tell,” Raine said, “there may only be a handful of the young. What do you see, Torsten?”

The Tavinter scout examined the scene below with expert eyes. Although they were some distance above the layout, he could still make out distinctive signs such as footprints. He scanned the ground which was well trod upon, the vegetation that was displaced throughout.

“There are many of them here,” he said at last, “dozens and dozens. Maybe as many as a hundred.”

“Thank you, Torsten. It’s as I expected.”

Torsten crept back along the cliff’s edge to his post. Raine had debated pulling him away from the search for his beloved leader and friend, especially since he was currently the surrogate leader of his people. But Torsten had jumped at the chance, chafing at his failure to find any sign of Skye.

Lorifal spoke in low tones so that only Raine and Feyden could hear. “A hundred of the Shadow Guild?”

“No,” Raine said, shaking her head, “I don’t know that there are even a hundred members of the Shadow Guild total. I would be surprised if there are even one or two here. It’s rare that they congregate, which is why the attack in Haldis was so unusual. Among other reasons,” she added as an afterthought.

Feyden looked askance at this last statement.

“The attack seemed very ham-fisted for the Shadow Guild,” Raine explained, “too easily thwarted.”

Feyden and Lorifal looked at her in disbelief.

“Four assassins infiltrate the Ha’kan capital,” Feyden began, “and despite heavy security, position themselves for a clear shot at the dignitaries without being detected. They are only ‘thwarted’ because you were able to knock their arrows from the sky with impossible skill and some uncanny sense I can’t even fathom.”

“And,” Lorifal joined in, “there just happened to be a dragon there to get to the third and fourth assassins.”

“Okay,” Raine admitted, “when you put it that way, maybe it was better planned than I thought. But still I can’t shake the feeling…”

“What feeling is that?” Feyden asked.

“That I’m being set up,” Raine said. “That I’m being manipulated for some unknown purpose. We’re killing a lot of vampyres, and that doesn’t seem to bother Malron’a in the slightest.”

“Doesn’t bother me either,” Lorifal said, running his finger down the blade of his axe.

“Good point,” Raine admitted. She looked back down at the seemingly empty fort below. “This won’t be easy, though. The largest part of that fort is built into the mountainside. It’s likely dark in there, and vampyres are always stronger in the dark.”

“That’s true,” Feyden said. Vampyres were weaker in the daylight, which had spawned other unfortunate falsehoods that they could not travel during the day. Woe to the unwary traveler who believed they were safe in the sun. “We have to figure out a way to draw them out.”

Raine glanced to the sky. “I have sent for help, so I suggest we wait until it arrives.”

Time crawled by on the cliff’s edge above the fort. It was Raine’s desire to draw them out from their dark fortress. Torsten and his few Tavinter scouts had been directed to stay on the cliff and provide ranged support with their bows. Although the Tavinter had a degree of natural resistance, and Elyara had given all protective enchanted artifacts, Raine did not wish to risk the Tavinter to the vampyre bite. It created a whole new level of threat that was not present in other battles. The bite of a Hyr’rok’kin could cause disease and even death, but there were some things worse than death. It was one of the reasons why she decided against enlisting the aid of Rika and Dallan. The Queen would more likely forgive the death of her daughter than her turn to vampyrism.

Raine was content to maintain watch of the garrison and sat comfortably on the ledge. Feyden and Lorifal were equally patient, and Lorifal passed the time by methodically sharpening the blade of his axe. The sun was high in the sky and provided warmth in the cool mountain air.

“What is this?” Raine murmured, and her companions perked up.

A band of a half dozen heavily cloaked figures rode into the quad of the garrison. Their mounts were restless and uneasy, partially because of the unnatural creatures on their backs, and partially due to the despairing cries of the prisoners they dragged behind them. The riders were vampyr, undoubtedly, protecting themselves from the sun with their thick mantles.

Raine observed the wretched prisoners and muttered her favorite elven expletive that roughly translated to “the gods have fucked me.”

“Agreed,” Feyden said. The prisoners were terrified, their clothing in disarray, their faces full of misery. When one woman saw the butcher block, she screamed, and one of the cloaked figures cuffed her in the side of the head. She fell to her knees and her breasts spilled out of her ripped clothing. The man who struck her pulled back his hood, leering at the fallen woman.

“I might have to have a little fun before we eat this one,” he said, and his companions laughed. He grabbed the woman by the hair and began to drag her into the nearby shack, his intent to take her on the bloodstained floor before he killed her.

“I don’t think so,” Raine whispered through gritted teeth. In an instant, her bow was in her hand and with a sharp twist of her wrist, the risers snapped out to their full length. In another instant the arrow was notched and loosed. It was an incredible shot, for the man did not take one more step before he was impaled through the torso with such great force it threw him forward and pinned him to the shack’s wall.

“He’s young,” Raine said with satisfaction as he dissolved into a pile of ash. “I bet all of these are, if they crave flesh and not blood. Fire at will.”

Feyden was already complying, as were the Tavinter scouts. Arrows rained down with deadly accuracy, wreaking havoc below. The prisoners cowered on the ground, which helped their rescuers from above. But one of the vampyres was not as young as Raine thought, for he had several arrows protruding from him and had not slowed down. While his companions were dissolving into ash, he grabbed the woman who had been dragged and pulled her in front of him as a human shield.

“Damn it,” Raine muttered. “Can you hit him?”

“Not without killing her,” Feyden muttered back, his bow taut with the poised arrow.

Raine glanced to the Tavinter, who were also trained on the vampyr, but Torsten shook his head.

“If he gets to that door…” Feyden warned.

“It will be disaster,” Raine said, her thoughts racing furiously. Once the vampyr and his hostage were inside, the element of surprise was gone. They would be fighting a much stronger and larger horde than the one in Digranes. And they would be doing so in a convoluted maze of tunnels, unlike the open cave before. And although these thoughts took but an instant, the vampyr was so fast he was already at the heavy wooden entrance. Raine’s bow hovered in the air, the shot primed to kill both the foul creature and the woman.