Sweep of the Blade (Innkeeper Chronicles 4)

They didn’t even bat an eye. Both the lees and the tachi either knew what the Kozor and Serak were planning or strongly suspected. And Nuan Cee had gone straight for the jugular. “We could all die if we help you.” Yeah, right. She would have to choose her words carefully.

Maud smiled. “If one were to provide a safe harbor, a protected haven, for courageous seekers of wealth and knowledge, perhaps new routes could be plotted to take full advantage of it and the great gains for all would dull the pang of tragedy.”

Nuan Cee sat up straighter. “If such a harbor were to appear, one would be a fool to not take advantage of it.”

Maud pretended to toy with her glass. Ilemina was very clear on what could be promised.

“A safe harbor in space has three major applications. First, it is a base of scientific inquiry, a natural gathering place where multiple species could come together in comfort and security to share their findings. Second, it is a hub of shipping and supply, a port where cargo can be bought, sold, and moved, and weary sailors can rest before resuming their journey. Third, it is a military installation, equipped to repel attacks and shelter those within. The military might of the Holy Anocracy, and House Krahr in particular, is unmatched. If only suitable partners could be found to fulfil these other roles.” Maud sighed. “Of course, such cooperation could only be possible if iron-clad alliances could be agreed upon, and financial and other obligations were determined and evenly assumed by all involved, and only after an instance of spontaneous mutual cooperation had occurred.”

The queen’s color darkened. “An even contribution from each species would only be fair. Such a place would require advanced technology and modern construction to be truly effective.”

“And of course, it would require a sufficient infusion of capital coming from a partner intimately familiar with the peculiarities of space trade.” Nuan Cee bared his teeth in a quick smile.

“If such plans were to be put in writing, in secret, of course, progress could be made on the path of mutual benefit.” There, she laid it out. Help us retain the battle station and we’ll get the ball rolling on the trade station, provided you agree to military alliances.

Nuan Cee turned to Otubar. “Does the Under Marshal agree?”

Oh crap.

Otubar stared back at the Merchant. “I’m standing here with her, am I not?”

Maud had to seal the deal. She nodded at the retainer waiting at the other end of the plaza. The woman disappeared behind the tree and returned with a huge metal chest. Square and reinforced, it looked impregnable enough to contain a grenade blast. The retainer carried it over with obvious strain, set it on the ground next to Nuan Cee, and withdrew.

“A gesture of good faith from House Krahr,” Maud announced. “We are grateful for Helen’s rescue and hope Clan Nuan will share the antidote with us for future use.”

Her harbinger, which she had programed prior to the meeting, sent a signal to the box. It split with a clang, and a metal spire shot out, like the pistil of a flower. The top of the pistil unfolded. A bottle of green mist slid upward on a pedestal.

“A weapon of Nexus,” Maud said, “meant to render the lees infertile.”

Nuan Cee jerked back.

“House Krahr has no need of such things now that it has found a willing and reliable trade partner in Clan Nuan,” Maud said. “We do not commit lightly and once we do, we stand fully behind it.”

“The depth of your commitment is stunning,” Nuan Cee said. “It is a proper bargain. We shall share the antidote.”

“It brings me and the Lord Consort great joy,” Maud said.

Lord Consort projected all of the joy of a boiling thundercloud.

Everyone sipped their drinks.

The royal tachi rose. “This has been a most enlightening meeting, Maud of House Krahr. We have many plans to make.”

17

Maud strode down the length of the bridge, measuring it with her footsteps. It was early morning, and the sky was lightly overcast, the sun playing tag with ragged clouds. Next to her, Helen yawned and rubbed her eyes.

Last night Maud had reported the conversation with the lees and the tachi to Soren and Karat. She had no doubt the Lord Consort would give a complete account of it to Ilemina. Soren agreed with her assessment—Serak and Kozor were targeting the battle station and wanted both alien species out of the way, but how exactly they were planning to pull it off was anyone’s guess.

Afterward she returned to her quarters to check on Arland. His door was locked, and he didn’t respond to her harbinger message. It drove her nuts. She kept imagining wild scenarios, each of which involved him dying in his sleep, defenseless. Eventually she surrendered and used the private passageway to check on him. He was asleep in his bed, his chest rising and falling in a smooth steady rhythm. She’d considered climbing into bed next to him to hold him but decided it would be creepy and made herself walk back to her suite. Nothing was going to happen to Arland; he would sleep off the booster while a cocktail of drugs the medic had administered repaired his injuries. There were a lot of injuries. It was perfectly reasonable for him to remain asleep for another day or more.

Maud kept moving. A refreshing wind pulled at her hair, throwing the short strands in her face. The exile to Karhari had shocked her. By then she was used to Melizard’s schemes. He was always creating problems, but he was the younger son, beloved and spoiled. His sins, however grievous, were always forgiven. Except that time.

From the moment she’d seen her former mother-in-law’s face, Maud had learned to expect the worst and her imagination obliged. If Melizard was delayed, it was because he was dead. If Helen ate a piece of unfamiliar fruit, it was surely poisonous, and she would likely die. If Maud met strangers on the road, they were assassins sent to kill her. And Karhari had proven her right again and again, feeding her paranoia.

Now Arland had joined the short list of People Whose Death She Imagined. There were only four names on the list: Helen, Dina, Maud, and now, Arland. Last night she kept waking up, checking on Helen, and when she drifted off, Arland died in her dreams, and she would jerk awake. A couple of times she got up and prowled on her balcony, like a caged cat.

If only she could have seen him this morning; if she had touched him and felt the warmth of his body, it would have reassured her that he was alive. She had rolled out of her bed planning to do exactly that. Instead, Karat had barged into her quarters as soon as the sun was up, announced that Ilemina required her presence, and took off.

Maud and Helen passed through the arched entrance to the Preceptor’s tower.

“What are we doing today, Mama?”

“Today we’re going on a hunt,” Maud said.

She’d reviewed the day’s agenda late last night, after giving up on getting any sleep. At their core, vampires were mostly carnivorous predators, and hunting was in their blood. They liked to kill, cook their catch, and eat it.

Humans had retained some of those primitive memories, too. No matter how civilized they became or how evolved the art of cooking became, nothing beat a piece of meat roasted over a fire.

The Holy Anocracy was not that civilized. They didn’t bother to make any excuses or to distance themselves from their predatory past. As soon as a vampire House claimed territory, they did two things. They planted a vala tree and they designated hunting grounds.

House Krahr maintained a huge hunting preserve. Today, at noon, they would be riding through it. Missing the hunt was unthinkable. She could get away with missing games, skipping a formal dinner, even being late to the wedding ceremony, although that last one would require reparations for the offense to the newlyweds. If she missed the hunt, however, the insult to the hosts would be monumental. Even children were brought to the hunt as soon as they were old enough not to fall off the mounts.

“What kind of hunt?” Helen asked.

“Do you remember when Daddy and I took you to House Kirtin and we rode out to hunt bazophs?”

It had been one of the rare bright moments in their exile. Melizard had landed a position with a stable House and for two months they had a brief taste of normal Anocracy life. And then he had punched the Kirtin Marshal and it all ended.

Helen’s eyes lit up. “Can I come on the hunt?”

“Yes.”

Maud realized that if she had told an average Earth woman that she would be taking her five-year-old daughter onto a temperamental alien mount and allowing her to ride in a large pack of homicidal vampires to hunt an unknown but surely dangerous beast, the woman would have tried to take Helen away from her on the spot. Some people had PTA meetings, she had hunts.

Helen would enjoy it and Maud wanted her to be happy. Plus, after the poisoning, letting her daughter out of her sight without an army of bodyguards ready to tear any attacker to pieces was out of the question.

Whatever Ilemina wanted would likely take place before the hunt.

They reached the Preceptor’s study. The door was retracted, the doorway framing Ilemina bent over her desk. The older vampire woman seemed deep in thought, her expression focused and harsh.

A feeling of dread mugged Maud. Now what?

She halted in the doorway. “My lady?”

Ilemina raised her head. “Come inside.”

Maud walked into the room, bringing Helen with her. The door slid shut behind them. Trapped.