Sweep of the Blade Page 3

  “My mother is likely too busy with the hassle of arranging the wedding.”

  She snorted. “Or perhaps, my lord, she’s mortally insulted by your instruction to make her household presentable for some disgraced human who turned down your proposal.”

  “My mother is never insulted. She is far too dignified and refined for that. She has the patience of a saint.”

  “Lady Ilemina,” Maud quoted from memory, “Slaughterer of Ruhamin, Supreme Predator of the Holy Anocracy, Bleeder of Ert, Fierce Subjugator of …”

  “Like I said, too dignified to take offense. If someone dares to insult her, she simply kills them, and she isn’t going to kill me. I’m her only son. At most, she’s annoyed, perhaps slightly irritated.”

  Maud sighed. “But I’m not her son.”

  “She won’t harm you.” He said it like he was swearing an oath. Like he would put himself between her and all danger.

  He had no idea how intoxicating it was to hear that. Words are cheap, she reminded herself. Reading too much into them was a dangerous habit. One she couldn’t afford.

  “Your mother will test me. She will encourage others in your House to test me. I can’t pretend to be weak and pass your mother’s gauntlet at the same time.”

  “A fair point,” he admitted.

  “Perhaps, you should pay attention to Seveline. Just enough to encourage her. Her type gets off on feeling superior. She’d get special pleasure out of pretending to be my friend while trying to seduce you behind my back.”

  Arland turned to her, his blue eyes clear and hard. “I proposed to you, my lady. If I treat you with anything but the devotion I feel, my House will dismiss you.”

  He was right.

  Silence fell. The craft zipped over another mesa filled with old growth. In the distance, still a few miles off, a castle rose out of the huge trees, massive and pale grey, so solid and majestic, it looked like it had grown out of the bones of the mountain.

  “I am devoted to you,” Arland said quietly.

  “Please don’t.” The words came out of her before she had a chance to think them over. She felt raw, as if he’d grabbed the bandage on her wound and ripped it off, reopening it.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  “I’ll wait,” he said.

  “I may never be ready.”

  “I’ll wait until you tell me to stop. I have no expectations, my lady. If you leave, all you have to do is call on me in the time of need, and I’ll be there.”

  Something in his voice told her he would wait forever.

  They reached the castle. The ancestral home of House Krahr greeted her, a forest of square towers wrapped in a maze of walkways, parapets, thick walls, and courtyards. If she had to escape it, she would never find a way out.

  Arland’s hands flew over controls. The shuttle turned smoothly and sank onto a small landing pad on top of a squat tower. People emerged from the taller tower to the left, hurrying across the crosswalk. She had the worst sense of déjà vu. When Melizard came home, the retainers used to hurry to the shuttle just like that.

  For a moment she felt like she was drowning.

  “Welcome to House Krahr, my lady,” Arland said.

  She wouldn’t lose her future to her memories. It wasn’t going to happen. Maud turned to him and smiled her vampire smile, bright and sharp. “Thank you, my lord."

  Chapter 3

  As soon as they exited the shuttle, a young vampire knight with dark auburn hair attached himself to Arland and began rattling things off from his tablet. Arland’s face took on the stony expression of a man who was either about to charge the enemy line for the fifth time in a single day or do his taxes. He marched along the parapet toward the heavy door, with the auburn-haired knight at his side. Maud took Helen’s hand and followed him, and the four other retainers closed in, one next to her and three behind. She could practically feel their stares stabbing her back.

  Go ahead. Get an eyeful.

  The afternoon sun warmed Maud’s skin. She guessed the temperature somewhere in mid-eighties, and the breeze was downright pleasant. She had a childish urge to climb onto one of the textured protrusions of the parapets, strip off her armor, and sunbathe for a couple of hours.

  The knight kept spitting out questions, periodically pausing for Arland to bark an answer.

  “Third Regiment requests permission to enter negotiations with the architectural guilds to update their Chapel Hall.”

  “Granted.”

  “Second and third companies of Fourth regiment request permission to settle inter-unit dispute via champion combat.”

  “Denied. We don’t parade our rivalries in front of wedding guests from other Houses. I want the full write-up of this dispute on my tablet within the hour.”

  “Knight Derit requests transfer out of Second Regiment.”

  “On what grounds?”

  “Irreconcilable differences with his commanding knight.”

  “Inform Knight Derit that I declined his request and that he has misconstrued the nature of his relationship with Commander Karat. They are not married. It’s not a partnership of equals. Commander Karat says, ‘Do this,’ and Knight Derit does it, because that’s what knights do. It’s not a complicated arrangement, and if he has further difficulty understanding it, he needs to hang up his blood mace and look for a different profession, more in line with his delicate nature. Perhaps flower arrangement would suit.”

  Maud hid a smile.

  The carved doors swung open at their approach. They walked through them and into the shadowy hall. The air here was cooler. Tall windows spilled narrow blades of light into the hall, drawing golden rectangles on the stone floor. Shadow, light, shadow, light… It reminded her of the north wing of Castle Erwan. The last few weeks before their exile, she’d walked that hall expecting a dagger in her back at any moment.

  The male retainer next to her gave her a startled look.

  She realized she’d switched her gait. She was gliding now, silent like a wraith, each step light and smooth. Next to her Helen desperately tried to imitate her, but her legs were too short, and she ended up gliding two steps and skipping forward on the third.

  The room ended, splitting into a Y-intersection of two hallways.

  Arland raised his hand. “Enough, Knight Ruin.”

  The auburn-haired knight clamped his mouth shut, biting a word in a half.

  Arland stepped to his right and invited her to proceed down the right hallway. “My lady.”

  “My lord.”

  She turned right, and they walked side by side. Knight Ruin and the four retainers stopped at the mouth of the hallway. They reached a door at the end of the hallway. He pushed it open. “Your quarters.”

  She glanced inside and froze. A spacious bedroom suite stretched before her. A big arched window in the opposite wall betrayed the true thickness of the walls, full three feet of solid stone. Delicate glass ornaments, so fragile they looked like they would shatter at the first sign of a breeze, hung from the walls, glowing with gentle light.

  On the far left, an enormous bed waited, big enough to lay four vampire adults comfortably and equipped with an artfully arranged pile of pillows and a soft red comforter. Its legs were carved into the tree roots, its headboard was a tree trunk, and the tree’s craved branches provided the canopy. A rug spawned the length of the floor, painstakingly depicting an image of a female vampire knight fighting a murr, a massive crocodile-like reptile, in a dozen shades of red, burgundy, and white. Beyond the bed, a door stood wide open, showing her a glimpse of the bathroom with a colossal stone tub. A second door cut the pale grey stone next to the entrance to the bathroom.

  On her right, a fire was laid out but not lit in a fireplace that was tall enough for her to walk into it. A collection of chairs was arranged before it, around a low table. A large banner of House Krahr stirred in the breeze, dripping from the wall next to the window, so if someone sat in the largest chair, the banner would serve as the backdrop. Ma
ud squinted at the chair. A small crest was carved in its back, two stylized fangs.

  It was a beautiful room, elegant in its simplicity and timeless, every line and every angle a perfect blend of function and aesthetics. She couldn’t have made a better room for herself back at Dina’s inn, if she tried for a week.

  “No.”

  “Are the quarters not to your liking?” Arland asked.

  “What are you doing?” she asked through clenched teeth.

  “I’m showing you your rooms.”

  “This is the room of a Marshal’s spouse.”

  Arland looked into the room, his expression puzzled. “You think so?”

  She resisted the urge to punch him. “Yes, I think so. It has the House Krahr banner positioned behind a chair with Marshal’s insignia on it.”

  Arland blinked and rubbed his chin. “So it is. How peculiar.”

  “My Lord Marshal.”

  “My Lady Maud?”

  “I’m not your wife. I’m not even your betrothed.”

  “Where would you like me to put you?”

  “Not here.”

  “I don’t know a room suitable to a woman I asked to marry me and who replied with ‘Maybe.’”

  “That wasn’t what I said.”

  “You said, ‘Arland, I’m sorry, I can’t marry you right now. I need time to decide.’”

  It was an exact quote.

  “I assure you my recollection is accurate. Your words are branded in my memory. Did I misinterpret?”

  She opened her mouth. He had her there. “No.” It was a maybe.

  “Aside from my mother’s quarters, this is the most secure place in the castle. By assigning these quarters to you, I send a clear signal to everyone within my House. I think of you as my betrothed and I expect you to be treated accordingly.”

  “It’s not an honor I deserve. I don’t bear the title of your fiance and I don’t wield any of her power.”

  “Last time I checked I was the Marshal of House Krahr,” he said, his voice gentle. “Assigning honors to my guests is my prerogative.”

  And he just reminded her that she was stomping on the most basic rule of vampire hospitality: one abided by the laws of the host’s House. It would be a mortal offense to refuse the rooms given to her by the Marshal. From his point of view, no other quarters could be assigned to her either. If he sent her down to the guest rooms, it would look like a dismissal. Here is the woman who rejected me, I brought her here, and now I don’t want anything to do with her… It made him look bad. It made her look bad. There were no winners in that scenario.

  “Would you prefer some other woman takes these quarters?”

  There was no point in lying. “No.”

  “Very well, then.”

  “This will make things harder,” she said.

  “Are you unfit for the challenge?”

  She glared at him.

  Arland grinned and handed her a key. It was a real key, heavy, metal, and cold. “That door next to the bathroom opens into a passageway leading to my quarters. There is a second door there. I left it unlocked. There is only one key, my lady and you have it. If you have any need to see me in private, all you have to do is unlock your door and walk down the passage way.” He bowed his head. “My lady.”

  She pictured herself smacking him on the head with that damn key, but there were five people watching.

  “Thank you, my lord,” she said. She’d loaded enough steel into the words, that even the densest vampire wouldn’t miss it.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” he said and went back down the hallway.

  Helen slipped into the room, dropped her bag, took a running start, and leaped onto the bed. She bounced straight up, waving her tiny arms.

  “Wheeee!”

  Wheee. That was about right. She’d remembered Dina saying Arland had the subtlety of an enraged rhino. Her sister didn’t know him at all. Neither did she. Which was why she told him maybe.

  Maud stepped into the room, listened to the barely audible click of the electronic lock, and slid the heavy metal bar in place, barricading herself in the Marshal quarters.

  She was not unfit for the challenge. This was going to be one hell of a visit. Either way, it was time to unpack and settle in.

  Maud made it four feet from the door before a knock stopped her. Maybe Arland forgot something…

  She unbarred the the door and swung it open. A female vampire knight stood in the hallway. Broad-shouldered, sturdy, with a lustrous mane of chocolate-brown hair, she wore the full syn-armor. Her dark eyes stared at Maud, and she felt herself weighed, measured, and judged in a split second.

  “My name is Lady Alvina, daughter of Soren,” she said. “You may call me Karat. That’s my battle name. I’m Arland’s cousin. His favorite cousin. And you are the human gold-digger who rejected his proposal. I think we should talk.”

  Maud leaned against the doorway and studied her nails. “If I were a gold digger, I would’ve married him already and come here as his wife. There would be nothing you or your whole House could’ve done about it.” Lady Karat narrowed her eyes. “You seem so sure that you have my cousin on a leash, ready to do your bidding.”

  “Nobody in this Universe, man or woman, could put Arland on a leash.”

  “You know what I think?”

  “I have no doubt you’ll enlighten me.”

  “I think he wanted to play hero. He found you, an exile living in squalor with your daughter, and he decided to rescue you. You preyed on his noble instincts, manipulated him, and now you’re toying with him. It appeals to your pride to have the Marshal of Krahr pining for you like some lovesick puppy.”

  And that was exactly the welcome she’d expected. “It’s refreshing, Lady Karat.”

  “What?”

  “Your honesty. I’d prepared myself for murmured insults behind my back and ugly glances. I thought perhaps it would take your House a couple of days to build up enough outrage to throw it in my face, but you laid it all out in my first hour on the planet. Why, I haven’t even had a chance to wash my face after the journey. Truly, you’re a credit to your bloodline.”

  Lady Karat’s dark eyes sparked. In that moment, she looked remarkably like her father. “Did you just call me a poor host and insult my family?”

  Maud gave her a narrow smile. “Well, clearly.”

  “And now you called me stupid.”

  “No. Only slow-witted. Are you going to do something about it, or can I start unpacking?”

  Lady Karat grinned. “My father was right. I do like you.”

  Apparently, it was a test and she’d passed. Vampires and their games. Nothing was ever simple. Maud sighed and stepped aside. “Come in.”

  Karat strode into the quarters and saw Helen on the bed. “Cute kid.”

  Helen bounced off the mattress, flipping in the air, and landed on the pillows. “Are you going to kill Mommy?”

  “No,” Karat told her.

  “Good.” Helen went back to jumping.

  “Does she expect you to be killed by random strangers?” Karat asked.

  “That’s the way things were on Karhari.”

  Karat eyed Helen.

  Helen gave her a cherubic smile.

  “She would attack me if I tried, wouldn’t she? She’s building up enough bounce to jump across the room.”

  Maud nodded. It was customary to offer refreshments when someone visited a room. Where would they have put them? Ah. A faint outline in the wall betrayed a niche. She stepped to it, deliberately turning her back to Karat, and ran her fingers along the crack. A square section of the wall slid forward, revealing a shelf supporting a bowl filled with small pieces of jerky twisted into knots and a big bottle of blue wine. Six heavy tulip-shaped glasses cut from sparkling crystal waited next to the wine.

  Maud took the wine and two glasses and offered one to Karat. Soren’s daughter landed into the nearest oversized chair. Maud twisted the round stopper out of the wine bottle, breaking the seal
, poured them both a glass, and sat into the other chair.

  Karat sipped the wine. “My father asked me to assist you. He’s invested in this pairing. I don’t know what you said or did, but that crusty old bastard is singing your praises.”

  “In the words of your cousin, Lord Soren’s ‘grizzled exterior hides a gentle heart.’”

  Karat chuckled. “Sure, it does. He is suffused with warmth and sunshine.”

  Maud toyed with the wine in her glass.

  “Wondering whether to trust me?” Karat asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll make it simple for you: you have no choice. You could go at it alone, but it will be much harder. Our House is old and complicated.”

  “Why are you helping me? After all, I manipulated Arland and preyed on his heroic instincts.”

  Karat swirled the glittering blue liquid in her glass, making the crystal throw a filigree of highlights onto the table. “Arland appears to lack in subtlety and seems easy to influence, in truth he’s anything but.”

  “He very carefully cultivates that image.”

  Karat nodded. “You noticed?”

  “Yes. He told me he was no poet, but a simple soldier, and then delivered a declaration of love that could’ve come straight from Of Blood and Honor.” In fact, it could’ve been included in any vampire saga. It was elegant and beautiful, and she’d memorized every word of it.

  Karat raised her eyebrows. “You read.”

  “I do.”

  “Oh good. To answer your question, better people than you have tried to manipulate my cousin and failed. He has never proposed to anyone before. He had dalliances, but nothing serious. If he asked you to marry him, he must love you. And you must feel something for him, because you came here without the protection that would’ve been afforded to you had you accepted. You’re not his bride. You’re not betrothed. You’re nothing. I can see you’re not naïve and you’re familiar with our customs. You knew how you would be received, but you came anyway. There is something here that the two of you have to figure out, and you can’t do that if you are expelled out of our territory or killed. I want Arland to be happy.”

  “That’s it?”