Cold Blooded Read online

  “What does it say?”

  She furrowed her eyebrow at me. “I thought you’d been learning to read at the fort.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  Alysia slumped to one side.

  I held the scroll back to her. “What does it say?”

  “That’s not how this is going to work. You want to read it? You’ll have to learn.”

  “Or I could just ask someone else.”

  “You could but this is Día’s first time at writing you a letter. Don’t you think you owe her the courtesy of reading it yourself?”

  “What about the courtesy of knowing what she said?”

  Alysia leaned over me, pointing to the start of the letter. “The first few words are: ‘Dear Raike, I just wanted to say …’ and that’s all the help you’re going to get.”

  A double thump from the door broke our conversation. I tucked the scrolls into my clothes. “I’m pretty sure that means I have to go.”

  Alysia wrapped her arms around me and squeezed tightly. “Be safe.”

  “You too.”

  The door swung open. Alysia dropped her arms quickly. Two of Draegor’s mercenaries stood in the doorway, beckoning me forward.

  Alysia called out. “Tell the others I’m trying to get us all out as soon as I can.”

  “Will do.”

  As soon as the door was closed and locked a hood slapped itself over my face. A fist came straight at my jaw, connecting. Another to my gut. My kick was intercepted, my leg grabbed by a pair of hands that were ready for it. I was lifted into the air and carried, squirming, back upstairs.

  Chapter Ten

  There came the unmistakable snick of blade and leather, quiet to some but spine-tingling to anyone who does this for a living. The hood was yanked from my face. A foul-breathed mercenary stared back at me from a safe distance, seething with quiet anger, his hands resting on his long sword. We were not alone.

  Six of the vanguard were up on the roof of the castle as well. All on their knees with gags in their mouths. All with rope or restraints locking their wrists behind their backs. Mikael was off to one side. Knees. Rope. But separated from the others for reasons unknown. Zara as well. They had thrown a noose around her neck and were pulling tight. Swords drawn and pointing at her throat and sides. She was trying not to squirm but the tips of their weapons prodded her ribcage.

  Rounding out our numbers were two noblemen of spotted-face age, one female mercenary leader with a blue sapphire eye, and five mercenaries of high enough rank to make qualified decisions and not just follow orders. No vampire which was half a relief, half a quiet discomfort.

  I looked to Zara. “Has anyone been hurt?”

  “A little. Nothing serious.”

  One of the northerners nudged me in the back with his sword.

  “Ready?” I asked Zara.

  “Whenever you are.”

  One of the nobles stepped forward. Male. Practically twenty years old and with a voice that still cracked. Nerves reverberated through his body like it was the first time he was giving out threats to people who didn’t have to bow to his every whim. “Stop or I’ll have you thrown off the roof like you all deserve to be.”

  I sent him a glare. “Next time keep the threat shorter. Too many words makes you sound uncertain. Zara?”

  “Still ready.”

  “You can’t take us all on,” said the human twig. “Your best fighters are on their knees with weapons at their backs. You can’t win.”

  I sized up the young man dressed up in his daddy’s fine clothes. “‘We’ might not but I can. And certainly against you. How about it? One on one. You and me. Right now. Loser goes off the side of the castle. The winner gets to leave Brilskeep with thirty four people of his choice. You have to the count of three to say ‘no’ before I make a move. One. Two.”

  “Stop,” said the squat woman by the twig’s side. Crinkles around her eyes. White showing through her mostly dark hair which itself was tied in a thick braid. One dull blue eye followed me, the other a sapphire pearl which didn’t move at all.

  The twig drew his sword. “One on one? Me armed and you not?”

  “You can fight with two swords if you think it makes your dick look bigger.”

  “And no magic?”

  “I’m saving that for someone who has killed a guy before.”

  The blue-eyed woman whispered to the twig. “I need to speak with him.”

  The twig’s voice trembled. “I do not take orders from you.”

  The blue-eyed woman sighed. Looked to me. “Don’t kill him.”

  “We’ll see,” I said. I raised my fists like a bare-knuckle fighter. Stepped forward.

  The twig smirked. Closed the distance. Swiped his sword through the air in something of a fancy flourish.

  I kicked his sword to the side. Drove my elbow into his chest. Locked his forearm. Pinned my leg behind his. Twisted. Pushed him over. Snapped his wrist. Took his sword.

  The mercenary holding Zara by the neck pressed the tip of his blade into her ribs.

  “Ah! No! One on one.”

  The blue-eyed woman spoke up, commanding him to stop. We remained at an impasse for a moment, me now armed with no vampire in sight and surrounded by a few allies.

  “The deal was the loser goes off the side of the castle,” I said.

  The twig squirmed, his hands protecting his face.

  The blue-eyed woman walked over. “If I may?”

  “I’m keeping the sword.”

  “He wanted to meet you.”

  “Then the pleasure was all his.”

  The woman waved her hand towards the edge of the roof. “I’m not going to throw you over. I just want a discussion in private.” She spoke without much of an accent at all. Odd.

  I glanced back to the twig. “I want his name.”

  “Ilmar of Elridge.”

  “How do I find him?”

  “About two hundred miles east of here is a river heading north. Follow that for twenty miles.”

  “Is he the head of his family?”

  “Yes. The sword, please.”

  I tossed it onto Ilmar of Elridge’s chest. He scrambled, the blade slicing through his fine clothing and clanging to the ground. I followed the blue-eyed woman for a few paces.

  “You are no stranger to the north, are you?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Vasslehün?”

  “Galinnia. A couple of times. This is my first time here.”

  She nodded towards Mikael who remained on his knees at the far end of the castle rooftop. “Your friend was desperately trying to get someone’s attention during your meeting with Draegor. Anyone’s attention, really.”

  “I asked him for a little help.”

  “And help has come.” She wore mismatched clothes, just like me. A pair of fine swords against one hip and no doubt a dagger in her boot. Her gloves bulged considerably across the knuckles. Thick leather with threads of steel running throughout. Armored gloves. “You are not like the others who came with you. They are soldiers. You are not. The woman by Lady Kasera’s side is similar to you but she is still a soldier. You are different. A mercenary.”

  “Once upon a time, yes.”

  “Still a mercenary.”

  “Not really.”

  “Are you a soldier, then? A sergeant? Lieutenant?”

  I held my tongue.

  “Your time in Galinnia was spent earning money by killing people or things or threatening to kill people or things, is that right?”

  “I was there as a mercenary, yes.”

  “You worked with the same company on all these occasions?”

  “Yes.”

  “But not any more?”

  “No.”

  She gave me a quick nod. “We inspected your weapons. Thirty one swords, all Isparian, all army. Did you lose someone?”

  “One of our cavalry was sent as a messenger.”

  “Ah. Eight bows. Identical. Army. One belt with a blade –
I presume that turns into a spear?”

  “Possibly.”

  “And a long dagger. Or short short-sword. Yours. I’ve seen that kind of weapon before. I know your type. I know the look of calm as you walk into a lion’s den. I know the look of confidence that comes from experience, not just bravura. You’ve done this before. Do you know who I am?”

  “I heard a story a few years ago of a blue-eyed mercenary queen in the north. Is that you?”

  She gave me a gentle smile. “Elizandria.”

  “That was it.”

  “You forgot my name?”

  “We never met.”

  “It’s a shame our paths didn’t cross earlier.”

  “Why am I here?”

  She got back on track. “As you wish. I want you to leave the north as soon as you can. Now, in fact. Take Lady Kasera with you, take your soldiers friends. No games. No tricks. Just go.”

  “Not until Lady Kasera says that our time here is done.”

  “She won’t win.”

  “She might. You knew we weren’t going to be leaving based on my word alone so why are we up here wasting each other’s time?”

  She didn’t take the bait. Instead, she gave me some decent courtesy. “I knew about Agnarr’s meeting with your Lady Kasera some time ago. I sent two messengers: one to Agnarr himself, the other to you.”

  “Me?”

  “To the fort in Anglaterra.”

  “We didn’t receive any messenger.”

  “I didn’t hear back from Agnarr, either. Neither messenger has returned.”

  “When were they due back?”

  “Ten days ago for yours. Four days ago for the one I sent to Agnarr.”

  “What was the message?”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “‘I don’t always work for the highest bidder.’”

  “Who do you work for now?”

  “That one’s a little tricky. We’re on retainer with a lot of the nobles here, the king included. Having multiple employers can get complicated so we usually side with Draegor whenever there is a conflict.”

  “But now?”

  “Your arrival has made things a little more complicated.”

  “How so?”

  “Draegor has no heir and refuses to appoint one. This has kept the nobles on edge, their weapons sharp, their spies busy, and their minds in a constant worry. Decades of worry, in fact. The moment he dies they need to act fast to protect what’s theirs, to stop whoever hates them from rising in power, and maybe even to make a move for the throne themselves. I’m sure you can see how that has created an unsettling few years for the nobles.”

  “My heart breaks for them, especially since no one has had the balls to make a worthwhile move against Draegor in years.”

  “It’s called ‘peace.’ Trust me, your Lady Kasera understands the Isparian version. You have, what, six hundred senators? Most of whom with their own armies?”

  “That’s what I hear.”

  “And there are a hundred northern families up here, each with their own dedicated raiders. How often does someone risk everything they have to strike at one of your emperors?”

  “Fair enough. How has our arrival made things more complicated?”

  Elizandria glanced over the city of Brilskeep. “No one wants an Isparian-backed king on the throne. They’d rather die than live under those terms. But your Lady Kasera said something interesting. If we break the alliance with the vampires then Ispar is no longer interested in the north, is that right?”

  “I believe so.”

  “And that’s the problem. The alliance with the vampires exists through Draegor, not with anyone else. If he dies the alliance should be over. Ispar would no longer be as big a threat to us as it is right now. But Draegor isn’t going to let you leave so you’re going to have to find your own way out.”

  “Miss Kasera Lavarta isn’t going to want that.”

  “Which is why I’m speaking to you and not her. She’s here for diplomacy. She’s not going to get it. Tensions have been too high for too long and your arrival has forced people to a point of no return. Something is going to happen. Tonight. Because of her.”

  “A coup?”

  Elizandria nodded. “More of a massacre, I fear. I don’t expect even half the nobles here to survive it.”

  Whatever happens, it’s going to be fast. No one wants a prolonged war. If there is, Ispar will make a move against us. Thanks to Agnarr it’s now looking a lot more likely. So whatever erupts has to be done completely before the winter fully takes hold. Ispar won’t send their troops across the lake while there’s snow but they may be tempted to cross in early spring. If there is no vampire alliance then you won’t need to invade.”

  “So you’re open to a civil war but not an actual war?”

  “Of course. If we have a new king, we want him to be one of ours, not one of yours.”

  “Even though you sent Agnarr a message?”

  “I like to find out as much of what is going on as possible before siding with someone. And besides, he might’ve made a tempting offer.”

  “And the threat of having an imperially chosen king …?”

  “I don’t want Ispar here either, despite spending a long time learning your language.”

  “You speak it well.”

  “Thank you. I’m sure you know that mercenaries can make a decent living by being paid not to fight someone.”

  “So you would tell whoever replied to the message you sent to Anglaterra that you are willing to provoke a coup, fall back, and return to Vasslehün to safeguard the people here and ensure that there is no vampire alliance anymore?”

  “Exactly,” said Elizandria. “My understanding is that you simply want the alliance to be over. If Draegor dies, you’ll have your victory. If Agnarr sits on the throne then you’ll have your victory. No need for your people to keep any presence here unless the vampires come back, am I right?”

  “You’ll have to talk to Lady Kasera about that. What’s Desdola’s influence in the alliance?”

  “Minimal at the moment but it is increasing, which is why it’s important to strike soon. Draegor has been using her visions to keep everyone from striking at him or the vampires but she needs vampire blood to maintain her sight. The vampires don’t really like being used to strengthen someone they genuinely fear. So, if there’s no Draegor the vampires will leave. If the vampires leave then Desdola’s visions will soften. She won’t get far with a new king on the throne.”

  “Speaking of which, the vampire standing beside Draegor. Lord of Fellgarden. Cute title. Who is he?”

  “I know him by the name of Razoz.”

  “Not his birth name, I take it.”

  “I doubt it. Like I doubt your name at birth was Raike. Even Draegor was not born with such a name. He chose it for himself when he was crowned. Draegor the Terrible was the first. Draegor the Bloody was second. The one we have now is the third.”

  “And he threw Agnarr’s son off the side of the building?”

  “He did. He held him prisoner for three hours beforehand so what Draegor now knows is anyone’s guess.”

  “It looked like Johnan hearing the truth about his father came as much of a surprise to him as to most of the guests.”

  “To most of them, yes.”

  “His death did not please Lady Kasera.”

  “It wasn’t supposed to please her, it was supposed to punish Agnarr and his son, and he deserved it. He is a citizen of Vasslehün. Draegor is his rightful king, yet Agnarr was caught aiding the enemies of the king. Johnan knew what would happen to him if you were caught.”

  “It looked like he didn’t know at all.”

  Elizandria arched an eyebrow. “How likely is it that Agnarr’s heir knew nothing of his father’s plans?”

  “I’m sure I’ll never find out. Where are the crew who brought us here being held?”

  “Why?”

  “Lady Kasera is a stickler for not letting people under her protection die.”<
br />
  “They don’t belong to her.”

  “They might be convinced to help us leave, unless you want to steal the ship we came in on and row us to safety.”

  She turned eastwards, glancing down beyond her chin. “Third courtyard down. You see it?”

  “Looks like a death trap.”

  “Which is why you should leave them. They too are citizens of Vasslehün.”

  I drew in a deep breath, plotting a number of potential escapes. “How long do we have until the massacre?”

  “Could be any moment now but no one will dare make a move until the vampires are gone.”

  “So we still have some time?”

  “Not exactly. Draegor knows that Agnarr is actively plotting against him. In all likelihood he’ll send his vampires out to kill him. All of the nobles’ eyes are on the gates, waiting for the vampires to leave. No one will dare make a move before then. But as soon as the vampires are gone, my people will disappear and Draegor will be largely undefended.”

  I looked over to Zara and the rest of the vanguard prisoners. “So why does it look like you’re threatening to kill all of them?”

  Elizandria shrugged. “I convinced Draegor to let me interrogate you all. This isn’t a friendly chat. This is you promising to leave before an Isparian lady is caught in the bloodshed.”

  The door to the rooftop thumped open. Everyone froze. The bear and six of his cubs marched up, weapons in hand, seething like they were desperate for a blood bath.

  “Are we too late?” I whispered.

  Elizandria sank in stature. “Maybe.”

  The bear bellowed, spittle flying from his mouth as he raised his ax, pointing from one mercenary to another.

  “Don’t fight me,” whispered Elizandria. She turned away from the bear, drawing her short sword and prodding the tip against my spine.

  The bear turned his ax towards me, barking a, “You?”