Queen of the Darkness (42 page)

A long pause.
Kaelas told us to guard this place so that no more bad meat comes through the
Gate.

Lucivar hoped the cats watching him thought the shiver was due to the cold and not the reference to Eyriens being ”bad meat.”
Kaelas is wise.

You look and then go.That wasn’t a question.

Lucivar turned toward his men. He raised his voice to make sure the nearest Arcerian cat would hear the orders. ”Raise basic shields.”

Five men gave him blank looks followed by swift comprehension. Protective shields snapped up around them.

•
Will
these shields protect us?* Falonar asked Lucivar, using a Sapphire thread so that the other men couldn’t hear him.

No,Lucivar replied shortly. ”Weapons to hand.” He called in his Eyrien war blade, then nodded when the others followed his example. ”Kohlvar, you and Endar keep watch at the landing web. Rothvar and Zaranar, take the left side of the village. Falonar, with me.”
And if one of the Arcerians actually shows
himself, give him the same courtesy you would give any other warrior,
he added on a general spear thread.

They moved slowly, carefully, fully aware that the cats watched every movement, every gesture.

”How did those cats manage to kill this many Eyriens without anyone sounding an alarm?” Falonar asked quietly when they had checked half the houses on their side of the village. It was obvious that a number of the men hadn’t suspected a thing before the attack.

”When an Arcerian is hunting, you don’t usually know he’s there until he kills you,” Lucivar replied absently as he quickly checked through another house. There was evidence of at least minimal fighting in all the houses, but that had been Glacian against Eyrien. ”That makes them very efficient.”

When they reached the living quarters in the Sanctuary, they both stared at the young Priestess—or what was left of her.

”Hell’s fire,” Falonar said, disgust filling his voice as he backed away from the door. ”Well, I guess gang rape is a kind of slow execution. But why keep just this one? And why beat her to death when they’d probably already done enough to kill her?”

”Because the other women fought, while this one expected a different kind of reward,” Lucivar replied.

When Falonar stared at him with horror-filled eyes, he laughed, a low, nasty sound. ”You spent enough time in the Terreillean courts to know how to get dirty, Prince Falonar.
Someone
had to help that Green-Jeweled bastard go through the Gate to get back to Terreille—or at least keep the old Priestess from realizing the Gate was being used without her knowledge or consent. As for the beating ... I guess when the bastard realized he was trapped in here, he needed to take it out on someone.”

”The cat didn’t kill him slow enough,” Falonar muttered, turning away from the room. ”Not nearly slow enough.”

I imagine the High Lord will know how to extract the final payment for the debt,Lucivar thought, but he didn’t tell Falonar
that.

As they left the Sanctuary, Zaranar made a ”come here” gesture.

”Rothvar’s at the back door,” Zaranar said uneasily. ”I think you should handle this. All we’ve done is keep an eye on the doors,” he added quickly.

Before Lucivar could move, Kohlvar sent an urgent message.
Prince, there’s a Glacian at the landing
web who says he’s Lady Karla’s Master of the Guard. He’s got forty guards with him.

Tell him to stay put,Lucivar replied sharply as he and Falonar headed for the back of the house.
I’ll talk
to him in a few minutes.

Before he reached the back door, he could hear the nervous snarls coming from inside the house.

Rothvar stepped aside. Lucivar started to go in, then stopped abruptly.

The Arcerian Warlord was almost full-grown, so there wasn’t much room in the small kitchen for a cat his size to pace. On the table was an odd assortment of food. On the floor was a goat, neatly killed.

When Lucivar took a step toward the goat, the cat pounced on it and snarled.

Mine,the cat said.

”All right,” Lucivar replied mildly.

The cat seemed puzzled by his easy agreement.
Payment for work.

Interesting, Lucivar thought. Was this a kindred testing of a human idea? ”Since you’re guarding this place instead of hunting, it’s fair that you be paid with meat.”

Relaxing a little, the cat looked at the table. So did Lucivar. There wasn’t anything on it he thought a cat would want to eat. ”Is that also payment for work?”

Human food.The cat made it sound more like a hopeful question.

”Yes, it is.”

A she-kitten would like this food?

Lucivar rubbed his chin. ”I don’t know.”

The cat growled, but the sound was filled with discouragement.
We burned some meat for her, but
she would not eat.
He wrinkled his lips to indicate what he thought of ruining good meat by cooking it.
I
promised to bring human food.

A chill whispered down Lucivar’s spine. ”A child survived this place?”

Yes. The she-kitten. KaeAskavi’s friend.The cat studied him, then asked hesitantly,
You will help?

Lucivar blinked away tears that would only confuse the cat. ”Yes, I will help.”

5 / Kaeleer

”Did we do the right thing?” Daemon asked as he and Lucivar air walked above the deep snow toward the place that was designated as an official landing web. They weren’t making that effort just to avoid floundering in waist-high snow; tracks might have shown an enemy where the Arcerian dens were located.

”What else could we do?” Lucivar replied wearily. ”The girl has lost her mother, her village, everyone she knew. KaeAskavi’s the only friend she has left. There are pockets of fighting going on throughout Glacia, so placing her in another village... There’s no guarantee she would survive the next time a place is attacked. Marian and I would take her to live with us, but ...”

Daemon shook his head. ”You were right about that. She wouldn’t be able to handle being around Eyriens right now.” Which was why Lucivar had insisted that Daemon come with him to Arceria in the first place.

”And we can’t take her anywhere else,” Lucivar added grimly. ”Not until we know if this attack was part of Hobart’s attempt to regain control of Glacia or if it’s something more. You said the girl was physically all right.”

”She sprained an ankle, but the Arcerian Healers have the Craft to take care of injured limbs. Other than that, she was... unharmed.” He couldn’t say the word ”rape.” He would never forget the fear that had jolted through him when he had crawled into that den and seen Delia—fair-haired, blue-eyed, ten-year-old Delia. She didn’t look anything like Jaenelle, except in coloring, but that had been enough to cause the memories of what had happened in Chaillot thirteen years ago to come rushing back at him. His hands had trembled as he’d cautiously examined her for injuries, as he had used a delicate psychic probe to answer that particular question. His hands had also trembled because she had been gripping a stuffed toy cat in one hand and a fistful of KaeAskavi’s fur in the other—which meant the cat had been literally breathing down his neck. It was the way she had held on to KaeAskavi that had forced him to leave her there. She needed to feel safe in order to heal—and snuggling up to four hundred pounds of muscle and fur obviously made her feel very safe.

Lucivar rested a hand on Daemon’s shoulder. ”A few weeks among the Arcerians won’t hurt her. At least this way she can be ’mothered’ without feeling like she’s letting someone take her mother’s place.”

Daemon nodded. ”Are you going back to Ebon Rih?” He had been planning to go to the Keep since Jaenelle was on her way there with Karla and Morghann.

Lucivar shook his head. ”The High Lord asked me to report to him at the Hall. This side trip has delayed that report for a couple of days, so I’d better get my ass there before he decides to take a piece out of it.”

”Then I’ll go with you.”

When they reached the place where they could catch the Winds, Lucivar hesitated. ”How is Karla? I didn’t get to see her before they left for the Keep.”

Daemon stared at the unbroken snow. ”She’ll live. Jaenelle thinks she can heal the legs enough for Karla to walk again.”

”Jaenelle
thinks
she can?” Lucivar paled. ”Mother Night, Daemon, if
Jaenelle
isn’t sure, what was done—”

”Don’t ask,” Daemon said too sharply. He made an effort to soften his voice. ”Don’t ask. I... don’t want to talk about it.” But this was Lucivar who was asking, so he tried. ”There’s no antidote for witchblood.

The poison had to be drawn into some part of the body in order to save the internal organs and then drawn out. It ... killed a lot of the muscle, and that muscle had to be...” His gorge rose as he thought of the withered limbs that had been healthy legs.

”Let it go,” Lucivar said gently. ”Let it go.”

They both took a couple of unsteady breaths before Daemon said, ”The sooner we make our reports, the sooner we can go home.” For him, home wasn’t a place, it was a person—and right then, he needed to know that Jaenelle was safe.

6 / Terreille

”Kartane sent a report.” Dorothea carefully selected a piece of sugared fruit, took a bite, and chewed slowly just to make Hekatah wait.

”And?” Hekatah finally asked. ”Has the Gate in Glacia been secured for our use? Is the village ready for our hand-picked immigrants?”

Dorothea selected another piece of fruit. This time she gave it a couple of delicate licks before answering. ”The villagers were eliminated. So were the Eyriens.”

”What?How?”

”The messenger who met with Kartane couldn’t find out what happened to the Eyriens, only that they had killed the villagers and had, in turn, been killed.” She paused. ”Lord Hobart’s dead as well.”

Hekatah stood perfectly still. ”And the bitch-Queen, Karla? Was that, at least, successful?”

Dorothea shrugged. ”She disappeared during the fighting. But since Ulka died rather... dramatically...

one would assume she consumed the poison.”

”Then that’s the end of her,” Hekatah said with a little smile of satisfaction. ”Even if someone manages to figure out an antidote for the Hayllian poison in time, the witch-blood will finish things.”

”Our plans for Glacia are also finished. Or hasn’t that occurred to you?”

Hekatah waved that away. ”Considering what we
have
achieved, that’s a minor inconvenience.”

Dorothea dropped the fruit back into the bowl. ”We’ve achieved
nothing*.
”

”You’re becoming inflexible, Dorothea,” Hekatah said with venomous sweetness. ”You’re starting to act as old as you look.”

Dorothea’s blood pounded in her temples, and she wanted—oh, how she wanted—to unleash just a little of the feelings that had been growing more virulent. She hated Hekatah, but she also needed the bitch. So she sat back and inflicted a wound that would hurt much deeper than any physical blow. ”At least I still have all my hair. That bald patch is starting to ooze, dearest.”

Hekatah automatically lifted a hand to cover the spot. With effort, she lowered it before it reached her head.

The impotent hatred in Hekatah’s dull gold eyes scared Dorothea a little but also produced a sense of vicious satisfaction.

”We can make do with sneaking through the other Gates,” Hekatah said. ”We have something better now.”

”And what is that?” Dorothea asked politely.

”The excuse we needed to start the war.” Hekatah’s smile was pure malevolence.

”I see,” Dorothea said, returning the smile.

”The immigrants we had picked to replace the villagers will go to Glacia—just as they would have if Hobart had given us that village as payment for our assistance. We’ll also add a few immigrants from other Terreillean Territories. The escorts will be males who don’t know where the original village was located. Only the Coach drivers will be told where to drop off the happy families—and that won’t be anywhere near a settled area, so there won’t be any chance of detection. The escorts will, of course, be dismayed to see no sign of a village waiting for inhabitants.” A dreamy look filled Hekatah’s eyes. ”The company of Eyrien warriors who will be waiting for them will take care of things. The slaughter will be ...

horrible. But there will be a couple of survivors who will manage to escape. They’ll live long enough to get back to Little Terreille and tell a few people about how Terreilleans are being butchered in Kaeleer.

And they’ll live long enough to say that two men had been giving the orders—a Hayllian and an Eyrien.”

”No one in Terreille will think it’s anyone but Sadi and Yaslana,” Dorothea said gleefully. ”They’ll think the High Lord ordered the attack and sent his sons to oversee it.”

”Exactly.”

”Which will prove that all my warnings were justified. And once people start wondering why there has been no word from friends or loved ones...” Dorothea sank back in her chair with a sigh of pleasure.

Then she straightened up reluctantly. ”We still have to find a way to contain Jaenelle Angelline.”

”Oh, with the proper incentive, she’ll willingly place herself in our hands.”

Dorothea snorted. ”What kind of incentive would make her do that?”

”Using someone she loves as bait.”

7 / Kaeleer

Chilled to the bone, Saetan listened to Lucivar’s and Daemon’s reports. He would have liked to believe Lord Hobart had hired a company of Eyriens to help him seize control of Glacia, would have liked to believe Morton’s death and the attack on Karla were strictly a Glacian concern. But he’d had other reports in the past twenty-four hours. Two District Queens in Dharo had been killed, along with their escorts. A mob of landens had attacked a kindred wolf pack that had recently formed around a young Queen. While the males were dealing with that threat, some Blood had outflanked them, killed the Queen, and vanished, leaving the landens behind to be slaughtered by the enraged males. In Scelt, a Warlord Prince, a youth still not quite old enough to make the Offering to the Darkness, had been found behind the tavern in his home village. His throat had been slit.