Ahgony, the lay leader of the Brotherhood, spoke up. "When was she last seen?"
"Prior to Last Meal. She came unto her parents and informed them she had no appetite and would be requiring a lie-down. " The king's gaze continued around. "Her father is a righteous male who has rendered unto me personal favors. Of greater weight, however, is the service he has offered unto the race as a whole as leahdyre of the Council. "
As curses echoed around the cave, the king nodded. "Verily, it is the daughter of Sampsone. "
Darius crossed his arms over his chest. This was very bad news. Daughters of the glymera were like fine jewels to their fathers. . . until such time as they were passed unto the care of another male of substance, who would treat her thusly. These females were watched over and cloistered. . . . They did not just disappear out of their families' houses.
They could be taken, however.
Like all things of rarity, well-bred females were of very high value-- and as always when it came to the glymera , the individual was less important than the family: Ransoms were paid not to save her life, but her bloodline's reputation. Indeed, it was not unheard- of for such a virginal female to be abducted and held for money, the sole leverage being social terror.
The Lessening Society was not the only source of evil in the world. Vampires had been known to prey upon their own.
The king's voice resonated around the cave, deep and demanding. "As my private guard, I look to you to provide redress of this situation. " Those royal eyes locked on Darius. "And there is one among you whom I shall ask to go forth and right this wrong. "
Darius bowed low before the request was put out. As always, he was fully prepared to discharge any duty for his king.
" Thank you, my warrior. Your statesmanship shall be of value under the roof of that now broken home, as shall your sense of protocol. And when you discover the malfeasor, I am confident of your ability to ensure an appropriate. . . outcome. Avail yourself of those who stand shoulder to your shoulder and, above all, find her. No father should have to bear this empty horror. "
Darius couldn't agree more.
And it was a wise assignment made by a wise king. Darius was a statesman, true. But he had a particular commitment to females after having lost his mother. Not that the other Brothers wouldn't have given themselves over with similar dedication--except for Hharm, perhaps, who had a rather dim view of female worth. But Darius was the one who would feel this responsibility most and the king was nothing if not calculating.
That being said, he was going to need help and he glanced around his brothers to determine who he would pick, sifting through the grim, now familiar faces. He stopped looking when he saw a stranger's visage among them.
Across the altar, the Brother Hharm was standing beside a younger, thinner version of himself. His boy was dark haired and blue eyed in the manner of the sire, and shared the potential of the broad shoulders and wide chest that was characteristic of Hharm. But there the similarity ended. Hharm was lounging with an insolent lean against the wall of the cave-- which was not a sur prise. The male preferred combat to conversation, having little time or attention span to spare for the latter. The boy, however, was engaged to the point of transfixion, his intelligent eyes locked on the king in awe.
His hands were behind his back.
In spite of his outward appearance of calm, he was twisting those hands where no one could see, the movement in the tops of his forearms belying his nervous churning.
Darius could understand how the boy felt. After this address, they were one and all going out into the field and Hharm's son would be tested for the first time against the enemy.
He was not properly armed.
Fresh from the war camp, his weapons were no better than Darius's had been. . . just more of the Bloodletter's castoffs. Which was deplorable. Darius had had no sire to provide for him, but Hharm should have taken care of his boy, giving him well-balanced, well-made instruments that were as good as his own.
The king raised his arms and looked up unto the ceiling. "May the Scribe Virgin look upon those herein assembled with all grace and blessing as these soldiers of worth go out unto the fields of conflict. "
The war cry exploded from the Brothers, and Darius joined in with all his breath, the roar echoing and rebounding and continuing as a chant started up. As the thundering sound rose higher and higher, the king held his palm out to the side. From the shadows, the young heir to the throne came forward, his expression far older than his seven years. Wrath, son of Wrath, was, like Tohrment, the spitting image of his sire, but there the comparison between the two pairs ended. The regent king was sacred, not just to his parents, but to the race.
This small male was the future, the leader to come. . . evidence that in spite of the affronts committed by the Lessening Society, the vampires would survive.
A
nd he was fearless. Whereas many a wee one had shrunk back behind a parent when facing a single Brother, the young Wrath stood his own, staring up at the males before him as if he knew, regardless of his tender age, that he would command the strong backs and fighting arms of those before him.
"Go forth, my warriors," the king said. "Go forth and wield thy daggers with lethal intent. "
Bloodythirsty things to say in front of tender ears, but in the midst of the war, there was no advantage to shielding the next generation of royalty. Wrath, son of Wrath, would never be out in the field--he was too important to the race--but he would be trained so he could appreciate what the males under his authority were facing.
As the king stared down upon his begotten issue, the elder's eyes misted with pride and joy and hope and love.
How different Hharm and his son were. That young was beside his blooded sire, but for all the attention that was paid to him, he might have stood next to a stranger.
Ahgony leaned into Darius. "Someone needs to watch o'er that boy. "
Darius nodded. "Aye. "