The Bloodforged (37 page)

Highmount pressed his palms together, pleadingly. “Your Majesty. Erik. You cannot move against your brother without moving against his wife, who happens to be your bodyguard—”

“Bodyguards can be replaced, if necessary.”

Highmount winced. “—and you cannot move against Lady Alix without moving against her brother, who is
commander general of your armies
!”

He doesn't understand
, Erik thought.
He doesn't see the danger.
Or did he? Perhaps Highmount had already been corrupted.
Liam had had the chancellor to himself for two whole weeks. Who knew what he might have offered in exchange for loyalty?

Erik forced a smile. “I can see this discussion has upset you, Chancellor. Let us shelve it for now; we can pick it up again another time. It's late; you should try to get some sleep.”

Highmount's piercing eyes remained fixed on Erik, as though trying to read his mind. At length, however, he rose. “I shall indeed try to rest, Your Majesty, and I suggest you do the same.”

“I will,” Erik said. And he would, eventually. For now, though, he had no time for rest. The situation was spiralling out of control; he needed to regain his grip, and quickly.

He needed to make plans.

“M
aybe you're right,” Alix said. “Maybe Erik is suffering from the same affliction as Tom.” She lay curled against Liam, tucked into his body as though he could shield her from her fear. For some reason, Rudi lay draped across her feet, which was something they were going to have to discuss at some point.

“I'm not sure about that anymore,” Liam said. “When I squired for Arran Green, I spent a lot of time around the Raven, and this feels different to me. Prince Tomald was moody, to be sure, and he had a vile temper. But what I saw in there today . . . I don't even know how to describe it. Not only was Erik talking nonsense, he kept giving me these looks, like he didn't trust me.”

“Are you sure you're not the one being paranoid? I put a lot of ideas in your head . . .”

Liam fell silent for a while, lost in his own thoughts. Alix
had started to doze off, lulled by the steady rise and fall of his breath, when he said, “I had a thought.”

“Okay.”

“You're not going to like it.”

“Under the circumstances, I think that goes without saying.”

“What if it's the bloodbond?”

The words splashed over her like cold water. Alix sat bolt upright. For a moment, she could only stare at him, aghast.

Liam propped himself up on his elbows. “What if Highmount is wrong, and the Priest did pass on his tricks after all?”

“But this isn't anything like the Priest's magic. Erik isn't acting like a thrall. Not even close.”

“Okay, but what if this is just a different way of doing it?”

“You're not making any sense. Where would they get the blood?”

“Yeah, I thought about that.” He sat up, his expression frighteningly earnest. “Remember Boswyck? Erik lost his bloodblade. What if the Oridians found it? What if they could use the blood in his sword somehow? That might explain why the effect is different.”

“Impossible,” she said reflexively. But the truth was, she had no way of knowing. She had no idea whether the bloodbond or some other, hitherto unknown magic might be to blame. A part of her even wanted to believe that it was, for it meant Erik wasn't responsible for what had happened in Harram. Any of it.

“It sounds far-fetched,” Liam said, “and maybe it is. All I know is, I've never seen Erik behave the way he did today, and it scares nine kinds of hell out of me.”

“Me too.”

They slid back down beneath the covers, lapsing into uncomfortable silence. Alix stitched her limbs through his, pressed herself against his warmth. But her mind continued to churn, and she stirred restlessly. She couldn't seem to burrow in close enough, couldn't keep her hands from wandering over his body, as if to anchor herself. He answered, wrapping himself around her and stringing soft kisses across her brow.

It had been a long time since they made love, and even longer since they made love the way they did that night: slow,
subdued, an act of comfort more than passion. They'd clung to each other like this on the eve of the Siege of Erroman. And not since that night had Alix fallen asleep in her husband's arms with tears wet on her cheeks.

*   *   *

“Good morning, Your
Highnesses.” Nevyn rose from his breakfast table, smiling warmly. “I am so pleased to see both of you back at the palace.”

“Even this early in the morning?” Alix tried her best to return the smile. “We're sorry to come upon you unannounced like this.”

“Terribly bad breeding,” Liam added. “Me, especially.”

“Please, finish your breakfast,” Alix said. “We'll wait for you at the forge.”

“That won't be necessary, Your Highness. May I offer you some tea?”

“No, thank you. And we won't keep you long. We just had a few questions, if you don't mind. About the bloodbond.”

Nevyn's eyes took on the guarded look they always wore when people posed questions about the bloodbond. Not for the first time, Alix wondered if there was some clandestine bloodbinder code out there in the world, an agreement never to share the most vital secrets of their art. Nevyn was a kind soul, and he always answered her questions, but evasively enough that she never came away feeling she'd learned much of anything. “May I offer you a seat?” the bloodbinder asked politely.

“Thank you.”

“So, the reason we're here,” Liam said, “is that I heard some rumours on the road to Onnan that worried me, and Alix and I thought you were the best person to ask about them.”

“I see.” Nevyn's brown eyes tracked warily from Liam to Alix and back.
He's worried about discussing this without Erik present.

Liam saw it too. “That way, we'll have more complete information to present to His Majesty.” He said it smoothly, sealed it with his most charming smile. He'd learned a thing or two in Onnan, it seemed. “What I heard—and of course it's
just a rumour, so it may be nothing—is that the Priest may not have been alone in knowing how to bind men to his will.”

Nevyn sighed. “That is certainly possible. Once a thing has been discovered, it cannot be undiscovered. Madan may have taught others, or they may simply have worked it out for themselves.”

Alix wanted so badly to ask if Nevyn had worked it out for himself, but now was not the time. Instead, she said, “There's more. Tell him, love.”

Liam continued with the story they'd worked out. “This is just tavern gossip, mind, but the rumour is that the Oridians combed the field after the massacre at Boswyck, collecting bloodweapons.”

“Could there be a danger there?” Alix forced herself not to lean forward in her chair, to let her eyes widen in anticipation of the answer. “Could a bloodweapon be reverse engineered somehow, used to control its owner?”

Nevyn laughed gently, the way a parent might laugh at a particularly fanciful suggestion from a child. “Certainly not, Your Highness. For the bloodbond to work, the blood must be unadulterated at the moment of its joining with the materials that will make the weapon. Once the bond has been forged, it cannot be unmade, and therefore the blood cannot be reused in any way. There is no danger from lost bloodweapons.”

“You're absolutely certain?”

“Absolutely. Moreover, to forge a bond powerful enough to control a man, Madan would have required a great deal of blood. More than would ever be used to forge a bloodweapon. Even if it were possible to reuse the blood—and I assure you it is not—one would never find enough in a single weapon, even in a greatsword.”

Alix and Liam exchanged a look. It was good news, of course—it meant Liam's theory couldn't possibly be correct—but it also meant they were no closer to finding out what was wrong with Erik.

“What if you could find some other source of old blood?” Liam asked. An absurd, desperate question, and of course it took Nevyn aback.

“Old blood, Your Highness? I don't follow . . .”

“Never mind. I'm being paranoid. I just want to understand the possibilities, you know? The risks.”

“I empathise, Your Highness. The perversion Madan created is a terrifying thing. The gods know it has robbed me of many a night's sleep. But we can take some comfort in the fact that in order to be made a thrall, a person must fall into enemy hands. The only way to forge a bloodbond is to have access to a significant quantity of a man's blood.” He shrugged. “Or his twin's, obviously.”

“Okay,” Liam said. “Thanks.”

Nevyn considered him with a bemused little smile. “I was under the impression I just gave you some good news, Your Highness, and yet you look like a man bound for the gallows.”

“Sorry.” Liam smiled weakly. “It's just . . . this talk of thralls makes me a little ill.”

“Perfectly understandable.”

Alix rose. “Thank you for your time, Nevyn.”

“Well,” Liam said as they made their way down the corridor, “that got us nowhere.”

“You know what we have to do now.”

“Are you going to say
talk to Highmount
? Please don't say
talk to Highmount
 . . .”

“We have to tell him. He's chancellor of the realm, he needs to know.”

Liam sighed. “It just feels like a betrayal. This is
Erik
we're talking about. He's my brother, Allie.”

“I know, but there's a bigger duty at stake here. We're at war. We can't afford to keep this to ourselves.” The words seemed to come from someone else, someone whose heart wasn't breaking with every step she took.

“You're right, of course, but . . .”

But this could be the end of everything.

They crossed the courtyard under a coldly blazing sky, heading for the chambers of Albern Highmount.

*   *   *

“I see,” said
the chancellor. He had listened carefully, without interruption, his expression revealing nothing of his thoughts. Alix had done her best to match that expression, though her heart was pounding in her ears, and her head felt sickeningly
light. Liam, for his part, stared at the floor, fidgeting every now and then but otherwise holding his peace.

“We would not have come to you if we weren't terribly afraid for Erik,” Alix said for the second time. “But whatever this is, whatever he's dealing with, he needs our help. And . . .” She drew a deep breath.
No going back now. It's already too late.
“. . . and Alden cannot afford for her king to be suffering such an affliction right now.”

Treason. This is treason.
Her head felt as if it might float away.

Highmount's gaze pierced her like a spear. He still wore that damnably blank expression, hands forming a steeple on his desk. At length, he said, “You have done the right thing, Your Highness.” He rose and went to a trestle table to fetch a pitcher of water. “Please,” he said, offering her a cup. Alix took it with a shaking hand. “The truth is, I had already come to much the same conclusion. I have known Erik White since he was a boy, and though he can be accused of any number of failings, paranoia is most certainly not one of them. If anything, he has been dangerously cavalier, at some detriment to my intestinal health.”

“I never said he was paranoid—”

“I did. His behaviour last night was uncharacteristic in the extreme. Frankly, it was alarming. I do not wish to go into details, but it is clear to me that his judgement is impaired. I have just spent a sleepless night trying to decide what to do about it. If you had not approached me, Your Highness, I might very well have approached you. You spend more time with him than anyone. If you tell me that his mind is unwell, I believe you, in spite of your obvious incentives for lying.”

“My . . .” Alix spluttered, heat flashing to her cheeks.
“What did you say?”

Highmount raised a hand in a mollifying gesture. “Stow your umbrage, Your Highness. I simply mean that Prince Liam would obviously stand to gain a great deal from his brother's downfall.”

“Oh, is that all you meant?” Liam snapped. “Do you honestly think I'm the sort of man who would betray his own brother?”

Highmount met their joined wrath with a bland expression.
“If I did, both of you would be in the Red Tower by now. Please, Your Highnesses, compose yourselves. We are in a delicate enough place without fits of temper. Now, have you any theories?”

“None,” Alix said, a sullen note still clinging to her voice. The
nerve
of this man . . . “We thought perhaps the bloodbond, but Nevyn dismissed that notion.”

Highmount's eyes widened in horror. “You have spoken to others about this?”

“Of course not.
Stow your umbrage
, Chancellor. We merely asked certain pointed questions about the bloodbond, to see if we might learn something that could explain Erik's behaviour.”

“And?”

“And nothing, as I said. In order to forge a bloodbond, you need the man himself to be in your custody, and obviously that hasn't happened. I haven't left Erik's side since we quit Erroman.”

“To be precise,” Liam said, “what he told us was that you'd need a
significant quantity
of a man's blood, or his twin's. But like Alix said, she's been with him the whole time, and he doesn't have a twin, so . . .”

“Actually, he does,” Alix said. “Or rather, he did.” Liam's gaze snapped to her. Highmount, meanwhile, had gone quite pale.
He's surprised you know.
She couldn't help taking a certain petty satisfaction in that. “A sister,” she said. “Stillborn. Erik told me about her last year, while he was recuperating at Greenhold.”

“Wow.” Liam sat back in his chair. “That's unexpected. Doesn't help us any, though. It only works with identical twins, and she was a girl.”

“In fact,” Highmount said, passing a hand over his eyes, “he was not.”

Silence.

For a long moment, Alix could only stare at Albern Highmount, ears ringing, the stunned aftermath of a lightning strike. She forced herself to speak. “What do you mean,
he
?”

Highmount shook his head. “I warned him,” he muttered, as if to himself. “I told Osrik that these things never really go away, that it would haunt his family forever if he did not muster
the strength to do what was necessary. But he was so sentimental, Osrik. Just like his son . . .”

“Highmount, what are you talking about?” Alix was halfway out of her chair, fists balled, voice quavering. When he didn't react immediately, she seized the front of his doublet in a perfect imitation of her brother.
“Speak, damn you!”

“Keep your voice down, Your Highness.” He extricated himself from her grasp. “What I am about to tell you is the most closely guarded secret in the realm. Even King Erik himself knows nothing of it.” He went back to the trestle table, but this time, it was wine he poured, three generous cups. Though it was early in the morning, Alix did not even consider refusing. She would need it, she knew.