Martin Millar - Lonely Werewolf Girl (77 page)

Rainal had often seen the Mistress of the Werewolves wearing
the cloak and tiara, but he was surprised to see her with the
broadsword. Avreg MacRinnalch's sword was traditionally only carried by
the Thane.

"I am acting Thane," said Verasa, calmly. "I'm entitled to
wear it."

They walked together through the long stone corridor that led
from Verasa's chambers to the central courtyard.

"Did you ever think of being Thane yourself?" asked Rainal.

"Yes," admitted Verasa. "I considered it."

Of the nineteen werewolves who had been Thane since Avreg, two
had been female: Heather Ugraich MacRinnalch, and Eustacia MacBruce
MacRinnalch. Both had taken the position after bloody strife against
their rivals. In each case there had been no agreed automatic heir to
the throne. That was not the case today. For Verasa to seek the
position when there were two male children already born would have been
a breach of tradition.

"I wouldn't have minded the breach of tradition," said Verasa.
"But it's far better for the post to go to someone young and vigorous.
Markus will be an excellent Thane."

Now that Verasa had re-issued the challenge in the proper
manner, everyone knew of the affair. As night fell and the moon rose,
the werewolves in the castle gathered on the walls to look out, and the
massed forces of the Barons arrayed themselves in a huge semi circle in
front of the castle gates. The atmosphere was one of keen anticipation.
Although Verasa had made no agreement to give up the castle if Markus
was defeated, just as the Barons had made no agreement to withdraw if
Wallace was defeated, it was inevitable that the outcome of the war
would be influenced by the result of the single combat.

Buvalis had been incarcerated, along with Kertal, and a new
personal assistant, Erenx MacRinnalch, was waiting for Verasa. As the
Mistress of the Werewolves reached the castle gates, a platoon of
bodyguards fell in around her. When the gates swung open and the
portcullis was raised, she strode without hesitation across the
drawbridge towards the massed ranks of her foes. Light snow was falling
from the pitch black sky and the flakes hissed as they struck the
burning torches carried by Verasa's attendants. Baron MacGregor came
towards her. Behind him was the young Baron MacAllister with his sister
Morag at his side, and beside them was Euan, son of Baron MacPhee.
Their attendants followed on.

The Mistress of the Werewolves greeted her enemies with a
polite nod. Baron MacGregor, the senior Baron in attendance, hesitated,
feeling that perhaps some discussion might be appropriate, but faced
with Verasa's calm air, he could think of nothing to say. They were
here to oversee a fight, not to negotiate.

"Is Wallace ready?" asked Verasa.

"He is. Is Markus?"

"He is."

From the look on Baron MacGregor's face, Verasa guessed that
he was no more keen to see his son Wallace risk his life than she was
to see Markus in such peril. But it was done now, and there was no
going back. Wallace emerged from the mass of his father's attendants,
towering over all of them. At the same time Markus walked swiftly from
the castle to take his place at Verasa's side.

Verasa signalled to her assistant Erenx, who stepped forward
with a tray on which there were four goblets and a crystal decanter.
Erenx poured whisky from the decanter into each of the goblets, and
handed them to the Mistress of the Werewolves, Baron MacGregor, Markus
MacRinnalch, and Wallace MacGregor. Each of them drank it down in a
gulp, and replaced their goblets on the tray. The MacRinnalch whisky
was usually a token of friendship; it could also be the sign that
formalities were over, and it was time to fight.

Verasa stepped backwards. The Barons withdrew, leaving a clear
space for Wallace and Markus. As the combatants neared each other they
both took on their werewolf shape. At the same instant, Verasa
transformed. So did the Barons, and every werewolf there who could. As
a werewolf Wallace was massive. His jaws were huge and his teeth were
like two rows of daggers. In front of him Markus suddenly looked very
small.

213

Dominil was surprised to realise that she really wanted the
twins to do well. It was not particularly rational. After all, it
didn't matter to her how they played. Her task had been to recruit
musicians and find them a gig. She had succeeded in this, no matter
what happened onstage. Her mouth twitched, almost imperceptibly.
Dominil was smiling to herself. She wouldn't have thought that she'd
ever care about the fortunes of two degenerate werewolves fronting a
band called Yum Yum Sugary Snacks, yet here she was, willing them on.
Dominil still hoped that Sarapen was going to arrive. But not until
after the twins played. As Beauty and Delicious stumbled on to the
stage, the signs were not good. The young werewolves were nervous. The
other musicians quickly made themselves ready but both Beauty and
Delicious fumbled with their guitars and microphones. They took such a
long time over it all that people in the audience became restless.
Delicious wasn't happy with her tuning, and wandered to the side of the
stage to check it. Two young men in the audience, who probably knew the
twins, shouted out some genial abuse. It wasn't meant to be
particularly hostile but Dominil noticed that Beauty stiffened up when
she heard it. Delicious was taking an age to re-tune her guitar in the
wings and Beauty looked like she might want to join her. There were a
few more derisive calls from the audience, not so friendly this time.

Dominil frowned. At this rate the girls would never get
started. She strode swiftly to the side of the stage to confront
Beauty, who had now been joined by her sister. The audience was
becoming restless. Something had to be done quickly. The werewolves
were behind a speaker stack, hidden from the crowd. Dominil let her
face flicker, the first stage of transformation into her werewolf
shape, and bared her fangs.

"Get out there and play," she snarled.

Beauty and Delicious stepped back sharply onto the stage.
Dominil strode clear of the speaker and made a signal to Pete the
guitarist. Understanding her meaning, he started up the first song,
Yum
Yum Cute Boys
. The gig was finally underway.

214

Markus was quicker than Wallace, but if he was the more
skilful fighter, he hadn't yet been able to display it. After some
initial weaving around, Wallace had managed to grab Markus and pull him
towards him. He now held him in a bear hug. Markus's feet were off the
ground and the breath was being crushed from his body. The werewolves
behind the Barons roared Wallace on as he squeezed the life from the
pretender to the Thaneship.

Markus gasped, and tried to bring his jaws down to bite at
Wallace's face but Wallace buried his snout in Markus's neck and
squeezed harder. The Mistress of the Werewolves struggled to keep her
composure as she watched her son suffering.

Markus forced himself to think clearly. His youthful struggles
with Sarapen had given him experience of fighting a stronger opponent.
He swung his right arm and used the inside of his paw to strike Wallace
full on the ear and the force of the blow made Wallace loosen his grip.
Markus was able to land a raking slash with his talons over Wallace's
face. Wallace roared in pain, and dropped Markus to the ground. Markus
sprang to his feet, with snow on his coat, and leapt to attack his
opponent. He managed to land a few more blows before his massive
opponent's strength re-asserted itself. Though Wallace could land only
one strike to Markus's three, he finally connected with a great swipe
that almost took Markus's head from his shoulders, and Markus crashed
to the ground. He scrambled desperately to rise, knowing that if
Wallace once got his jaws around his neck, and pinned him to the
ground, the fight would be over. Markus was forced to retreat, and
Wallace's supporters roared him on as he advanced relentlessly.

Baron MacGregor did not join in with the cheering. He was
still concerned over the welfare of his son, though his apprehension
was fading. It was clear to every onlooker that it was only a matter of
time before Wallace was the victor. Both werewolves had suffered injury
but Wallace was obviously the stronger and Markus would eventually fall.

215

Malveria approached the upstairs room where the bands played.
She found her entrance blocked by a young woman sitting at a table.

"I have come to the gig," announced Malveria. "Gig is the
correct term, I believe?"

The young woman looked at her blankly. Malveria frowned, and
wondered who this dull servant was.

"Please tell your master I am here," said the Fire Queen,
civily.

"What?"

Malveria's frown deepened. She deplored the practice of
putting one's less intelligent servants in positions where they may
have to encounter guests. The Enchantress appeared from inside the room.

"Malveria! Are you coming in?"

"This servant is not at all welcoming."

"You have to pay," explained Thrix. Seeing her friend's
confusion - Malveria had never paid to enter anything before - Thrix
took some money from her purse and handed it over, then escorted
Malveria through the door. Once inside she discreetly caused a full
glass of wine to appear in her hand.

"There's really nothing worth having at the bar."

Malveria told Thrix that though her carriage was now waiting
for her outside her palace, she did not wish to make the journey to
Livia's quite yet.

"It would be rather unbecoming for the Queen of the Hiyasta to
arrive early, like someone who is eager for a free meal. I shall make
them wait a little longer. Incidentally, I had an interesting encounter
outside this building."

"Who with?"

"Werewolf hunters, I believe."

"What?"

"Perhaps twenty or so. An unpleasant gathering of men,
including several who really should take more care of their physiques.
Even if one is dedicated to hunting werewolves, there is no excuse for
letting oneself become flabby."

"What happened?" asked Thrix, urgently.

"Nothing, really," replied Malveria. She twitched one finger,
creating a little bubble of quiet in which they could hear each other
over the noise of the band.

"I sensed your spells of protection and bafflement outside the
building. The hunters were confused, but I suspected there may have
been one among them who had knowledge of sorcery. Probably rudimentary,
but he may have guessed they were close to you. I added a little of my
magic to yours and convinced them that the building they sought was
some way south of here. They have now gone to hunt werewolves in
another place."

Malveria beamed.

"I trust you are not offended by my assistance?"

"Not. I'm grateful. Did you sense Sarapen anywhere close?"

The Fire Queen shook her head. There was an amused gleam in
her eye.

"But I do sense the handsome Gawain. You have brought the
young wolf here for some later entertainment?"

Thrix scowled.

"If he's entertaining someone later it won't be me."

She directed her gaze to where Gawain and Kalix shared a chair.

"Ah," Malveria nodded sympathetically. "He has transferred his
attentions to the other sister. I am sorry, Enchantress."

"No need to feel sorry," replied Thrix. "I don't even like
him. He was just convenient for a while."

"Indeed," replied Malveria. Showing unusual tact, she said no
more, though it was plain to her that Thrix was irritated. Thrix hadn't
been in love with Gawain, by any means. Nonetheless, it wasn't exactly
pleasant to see the werewolf she'd been sleeping with now having a much
better time with her sister. When Gawain arrived he'd greeted Thrix as
politely as he could, but it was obvious he was embarrassed to see her.

Malveria's attention was caught by some energetic movement.

"What is my niece doing?"

"Dancing?"

"Dancing? In what way would that qualify as dancing?"

After their shaky start Yum Yum Sugary Snacks had forgotten
their nerves, built up momentum, and were now thrashing their way
through their set with tremendous enthusiasm. Vex was flinging herself
around in front of the stage. She was convinced that watching Yum Yum
Sugary Snacks was the finest experience ever had by anyone, anywhere.
She was completely engrossed in noise, music and excitement. Vex loved
Yum Yum Sugary Snacks, and danced with abandon, completely oblivious to
everyone around her.

Kalix didn't feel like dancing - it would have meant letting
go of Gawain - but she was enjoying the gig. She didn't like the band
as much as the Runaways but she liked them well enough. There was
something about the raw noise coming of the stage that stirred her. She
held Gawain tightly, and felt happy.

"Our next song's called
Evil White-Haired Slut
,"
yelled Delicious.

If Dominil minded, she didn't show it. The gig had gone well
and the audience had responded enthusiastically. So far, everything was
satisfactory. If she could plunge the Begravar knife into Sarapen's
heart, the evening would be a total success.

216

Madrigal, a small, nondescript man, but intelligent, and
tenacious, drove a motorbike swiftly from Camden to King's Cross. He'd
called ahead, and Sarapen was expecting him.

"Well?" said Sarapen.

"They'll finish playing soon. There are nine werewolves in the
room."

Sarapen nodded. Nine werewolves. He knew that Butix and Delix
could not transform this night. Which left seven. Thrix and Dominil
were strong. So was Kalix, in combat. As for the four bodyguards, they
were probably experienced fighters. It was not enough to worry Sarapen.
He had twenty-four werewolves at his side, plus a powerful elemental
princess. With his overwhelming advantage in numbers, he hoped to sweep
up his enemies in the space of a few seconds, and end the affair
quickly. He planned to attack as late as possible, when the cousins
were packing up their equipment and the audience had departed. The only
obstacle had been the Enchantress's sorcery. Now that Princess
Kabachetka stood at his side, it was no longer a problem.