Darkness Rising: Disciples of the Horned One Volume One (Soul Force Saga Book 1) (28 page)

D
amien left
Lane in her room to try and sleep. Hearing you’d been targeted for murder could give a person insomnia. Still, he hoped she could get a little rest. The moment the connecting door closed behind him he sent streams of soul force around every inch of the suite. He sealed the doors and every crack so tight an ant couldn’t find a way through.

In truth he didn’t expect anything to happen tonight. Whoever tried to kill Lane had no way of knowing she didn’t eat the poison. When she walked into the meeting in the morning, however, all hell might break loose.

He hoped it did.

The instant anyone made an overt move against Lane the negotiations would be over and he’d have a free hand to handle things however he wished. He’d gotten to like Lane and the fact that they’d tried to kill her made him want to deal harshly with the barons.

He sighed and lay down. Everything was so complicated.

Damien woke early and found his barrier intact and no sign that anyone had attempted to breach it. Good. For once things seemed to be going how he expected.

The meeting was scheduled to begin around midmorning, leaving him four or so hours to kill. His stomach rumbled. He hadn’t eaten since lunch the day before. Maybe he could sneak down to the kitchen and find some untainted food for breakfast. With the suite sealed Lane was in no danger.

Damien had no interest in conversation so he wrapped himself in invisibility before leaving his room. He scanned the hall outside before he stepped out. If anyone saw the door open and close by itself they might grow curious.

The kitchens were at the rear of the castle on the first floor. Damien strolled through the empty halls, seeing no one save a servant hurrying along, carrying a mop and sloshing bucket of water, and completely unaware that he was walking a couple feet to her right. Damien smiled. It was fun walking around with no one knowing he was there.

Damien smelled the kitchen long before he reached it. The pleasant, yeasty scent of bread mingled with cooking bacon. His mouth watered. A bacon sandwich and cold mug of ale would suit him just fine. Knives thunking into cutting boards and someone shouting about burning rolls told him he was getting close.

He rounded the corner in time to see one of the bodyguards from last night grab a servant by the arm and drag her away from the kitchen door. He didn’t know the man, Damien had only spoken to Sloan. What could he want with the servant?

Damien could only think of one thing and if that’s what the bodyguard wanted Damien would have to step in. He followed them down a long hall toward the back of the castle. The guard pushed a door open and dragged the girl out into the yard. Damien slipped through the open door and followed them toward the stable. It looked like he had the right idea.

Damien almost canceled his invisibility, but hesitated. He didn’t want to give himself away unless he absolutely had to. The girl wasn’t screaming for help, but from her frightened eyes and pale face he felt certain she didn’t want to be going along with him. Maybe she knew no one would help if one of the barons’ bodyguards wanted to have his way with her.

They ducked into the stable and Damien hurried up behind them. If he pushed her down into a pile of hay Damien would step in, disguise be damned. He peeked through the doorway. The guard had released the servant and she rubbed a red spot on her arm where he’d gripped her.

“You didn’t have to be so rough,” the girl said.

“I had to make it look like I was dragging you off for a tumble. Do you have any poison left?”

Damien tensed. Were these two behind the attempt to kill Lane?

The servant dug two little pouches out of a pocket in her uniform. “There isn’t much. I put two scoops in the woman’s food like you said.”

The man snatched the poison out of her hand and stuffed it in his pocket.

“When can we leave? If I have to put up with one more of Master Kannon’s pinches I fear I may slap him.”

“Soon.” The bodyguard held out his arms and she went to him. The girl buried her face in his chest and he held her with one arm. The other arm reached around and pulled a dirk from a sheath at the small of his back. “Don’t worry, I’m almost done.”

Damien wrapped the girl in a soul force barrier an instant before the bodyguard tried to stab her in the gut. The servant’s eyes went wide when his weapon bounced off her uniform. Damien wished he could have seen the look on the bodyguard’s face.

He slipped into the stable, wrapped the man up in a cocoon of soul force, and stiffened the shield around the servant so she couldn’t move. With his prisoners secure, Damien let his invisibility fade. The girl’s eyes got even wider and the bodyguard tried to move, but only managed to fall over. Damien surrounded the stable with a sound barrier so no one would overhear them.

“I think we need to talk.” He turned to the girl. “You put poison in Lane’s food?”

Her lip trembled. “He promised to take me away. He said to just put a little powder in her food and she’d get sick and not be able to finish the negotiations. It’s so awful here. I just wanted to escape.”

Stupid girl. “You’ll find the mines a good deal less comfortable, assuming they don’t hang you.”

She started bawling and Damien gagged her with a strip of soul force. He should feel sorry for her. The guard clearly used her and it sounded like the baron took advantage of her. Maybe if she’d poisoned Kannon he would have been more understanding.

He turned his attention to the bodyguard lying on the ground. The cocoon around his head vanished.

“Help! Sloan! James! Anyone!”

Damien crouched beside him. “No one can hear you. We’re going to have a chat. If you tell me what I want to know I won’t crush you into a bloody mush.”

“I won’t tell you anything.” He spat at Damien.

Thankfully the spit slid right off Damien’s personal shield. Damien clenched his fist and the cocoon shrank, squeezing the guard’s body. The man gasped for breath.

“Who told you to kill Lane?”

“Go to hell!”

Damien shook his head and squeezed again. The guard moaned and fell silent when he couldn’t refill his lungs. Damien let him suffocate for a minute before he allowed the guard take a breath.

“The next squeeze will break ribs. Consider your words carefully.”

“All right, I’ll tell you whateve—”

The guard screamed when dark fire shot out his eyes and ears. Black tar oozed out of his nose and he stopped breathing.

“Damn it!” Damien slammed a fist on the stable wall. A warlock had put a binding on him. Poor bastard probably didn’t even realize it. He turned to the servant and found her unconscious on the stable floor. “Damn it!”

Now who could tell him what was going on?

L
ane yawned
, stretched, and rolled out of the soft, warm bed. After Damien’s revelation about the poison it had taken her a while to relax enough to fall asleep. Her beautiful dress hung in a wardrobe. She wouldn’t be wearing it to today’s meeting. This would be all business.

She debated telling the barons about the poison, but if they were behind it she’d be alone in a room with ten men who wanted her dead. If she kept her mouth shut it would probably be safer. Safe was good.

Her stomach groaned and she reached for the pull rope. Her arm was halfway to the silk cord when she caught herself. What if they brought more poisoned food? Better wait until Damien was up and could check it. She pulled a tunic over her head, but didn’t bother with trousers.

Lane studied her long, bare legs. Plenty of men had complimented her on them and she wondered what Damien’s reaction would be when she walked in. She smiled, a little heat in her cheeks.

Lane had spent some time with men, of course, but never anything serious. Most found her mother too intimidating and she was often busy on a diplomatic assignment. Some found her success hard to take, but she hadn’t gotten to be one of the kingdom’s top diplomats by worrying about some man’s disapproval. Ultimately the only man she had to please wore the crown.

Damien didn’t strike her as the type to be intimidated by a successful woman, or anything else for that matter. His door opened then thumped shut. He’d been up and gone out already? She took a deep breath and let it out slow. Was she really considering getting involved with a sorcerer? She didn’t even know if Damien liked her. Considering how she’d treated him for most of the trip it wouldn’t surprise her if he couldn’t stand her.

Well, all she could do was apologize and tell him how she felt. If he rejected her she couldn’t blame him.

Lane knocked once on the connecting door and pushed it open. Her jaw dropped. Damien was halfway across the room, an unconscious girl over one shoulder and a basket in the opposite hand.

He stopped and looked over at her, a sheepish smile on his face. He held out the basket. “I brought breakfast.”

A million questions whirled in Lane’s head, but she couldn’t force a single one past her lips. She took the basket from him and Damien continued on to the wardrobe. The doors opened at his approach and he set the girl gently inside before closing them.

He rolled his shoulders and turned back toward her. All Lane could manage was to stare dumbly at him, the unopened basket still in her hand.

He took the basket back and sat on his bed. When he opened it the mouthwatering aroma of bread and bacon wafted out. Her stomach groaned and jolted her out of her stupor.

“Why did you carry an unconscious girl into your bedroom?”

A golden table appeared in front of Damien and he spread the contents of the basket out on it. “She’s the one that tried to poison you yesterday.”

Lane sat beside him. “What happened?”

Damien told her about his adventure this morning. “So when the hellfire ward went off and the guard’s charred brains leaked out his nose the girl fainted. She saw me use sorcery and tried to kill you once already, so I decided to take her into custody. I put a block in her brain that’ll keep her out for a day or so. The real question is, what do you want to do now?”

Lane’s head spun. This was too much for her. She was a diplomat and she’d dealt with some tricky situations over the last three years, but murder and warlocks were beyond her comfort zone. Way beyond. Damien just looked at her while he ate a bacon sandwich.

“Is the warlock in the area?” she asked.

He swallowed and took a drink from a skin of ale. “I doubt it. I would have sensed a powerful, corrupt soul force if it was within a few miles. Do you still want to go to the meeting?”

She nibbled on a piece of bacon and frowned. “Do you think they’re in on it? Trying to kill me, I mean.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know a lot of things. The guard’s brain melted before he could tell me anything useful. It’s risky if you go, but their reactions will tell you a lot about how involved they are. I disintegrated the guard’s body so no one will know he’s dead. Since the girl is missing too, I hope the others will think they ran off together.”

Lane finished her bacon and started peeling an orange, the mindless task occupying her hands while she thought. How did this mission become so complicated? First the thugs in Allentown, then the poison, a dead guard and unconscious servant, not to mention the fact that she feared she was falling for her bodyguard. She wanted to throw her hands up and scream.

“If you wanted orange juice I could have squeezed some for you.”

Lane stared at him, uncomprehending. What was he talking about? She followed his gaze down to her hands. She’d crushed the orange to pulp without noticing the sticky juice running down her finger into a golden cup.

Damien smiled, stood, and walked over to the bedside stand. He poured water, soaked a cloth, and wrung it out. Lane accepted the proffered cloth and cleaned her sticky fingers.

“Thanks.”

“Sure. This’ll all work out. If you want to go through with the meeting I can wrap you in a shield of invisible soul force. The barons could beat on you with a sledgehammer and you wouldn’t break a nail. As long as you don’t eat or drink anything you’ll be fine.”

Some of the tension oozed out of her. Damien’s reassurance set her mind at ease. “Let’s do it.”

T
wo hours
later found Damien standing in a little room with nine other guys. No chairs had been provided, no food or drinks either. When he and Lane arrived several of the guards had tensed, but they made no overt moves. Lane went right through a second door to join the barons. He’d caught a glimpse of a large table surrounded by leather chairs before the door closed.

Lane had guts going in there, even with his shield protecting her. He respected that. She’d gotten a lot friendlier since Allentown. Damien didn’t know who’d been more surprised when she walked in on him carrying the girl. He’d almost dropped her when he saw Lane standing there in just her tunic, her legs bare from mid-thigh. Maybe it was her way of making up for walking in on him when he was washing up.

A little smile curled his lip. He appreciated the gesture.

“Want to let us in on the joke?” Sloan had made his way across the empty room to stand beside Damien.

“No. Say, aren’t we a man short?” Damien looked around as though trying to spot the dead guard.

Sloan grimaced. “Dade was sweet on one of the serving girls. Looks like they ran off.”

Damien nodded. “Not very professional.”

“No. What about your charge? Did she sleep well?”

Damien shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “She didn’t complain. That’s all I care about.”

“I hear you. I swear Trasker is always bitching about something. The room’s too hot or too cold. The food doesn’t suit him. You’d think I was the man’s valet instead of his bodyguard.”

Sloan was trying to act natural, but the question about Lane and the fact that Dade shouted for him made a lie of the act. With a supreme act of willpower Damien restrained himself from blasting Sloan to ash. “I’ve never been assigned to guard a nobleman. From the sounds of it I don’t want to either.”

“Ha! You got that right, kid. The sooner this meeting ends and I can dump the old fart off on his own people the better.”

The meeting went on for three hours before they broke for lunch. No poison was included with the food and an hour after the meal they went back to it. Damien tried to stay sharp, but damn it was boring standing around the empty little room. After his initial chat with Sloan none of the other guards approached him.

Finally, late in the evening, an exhausted Lane staggered out of the meeting room. “We’re done, and I’m beat. Let’s go.”

Damien escorted her back to their rooms. Neither of them spoke until he raised a sound barrier. “How’d it go?”

She sighed and slumped down on the edge of his bed. “We chased our tails for eight hours. They argued minor, meaningless points to death. None of them seemed to have come to a consensus about what they actually want the king to do. It’s like they don’t want a deal at all.”

“Did they seemed surprised to see you?”

“No. If any of them knew about the poison they’re excellent actors.”

Damien frowned and paced around the room. What in heaven’s name was going on here? “How did you leave it with the barons?”

“We’re going to try again tomorrow afternoon. I frankly can’t see much point, but I’ll do my best given the alternative.”

The alternative wasn’t what she imagined, but he’d give her one more day before he carried out his orders.