32. Bane
Chapter 32
Bane
I t was difficult to hide my own happiness in the face of Wroth’s misery. Nearly impossible to prevent my mouth from stretching into a wide grin, from laughing at nothing for no reason.
But I managed, because I would not rub my good fortune in my brother’s face as I sent him away.
Cirri stood at my side, cloaked against the chill. The pearly morning had brought a dusting of snow overnight, the first sign of the winter to come.
We watched as Auré, dressed in riding leathers, brought her horse cantering through the stableyard. The vampire reached down to clasp my hand in a hearty shake, and then, after a moment’s trepidation, bowed over her saddle to Cirri.
A flurry of hand signs flashed between them, too quickly for me to easily read, but, unlike the first night they’d spoken, there was a restrained watchfulness to their tone now. Less aggression, more wariness and grudging acceptance.
I tried not to be too pleased about that, either. I had done as Cirri asked and stayed well out of their mutual dislike. If she could win over my old family on her own, all the better; I hoped they would become friends in time.
But not today. Cirri raised her chin, and Auré narrowed her eyes, and the two of them parted with icy courtesy.
But it was courtesy.
“It’s a start,” I said, resting my arm around Cirri’s shoulders as Auré rode through the outer gates to scout ahead.
My bride raised a brow at me. If I’m going to live forever, we’re going to have to find some small island of common ground.
“I was hoping for more of a continent,” I mused, watching as Kajarin emerged from the keep, surrounded by servants loaded with trunks and boxes.
The breeze carried her scent to my nose: the jasmine perfume, mingled with men’s sweat and seed. A spurt of sickness rose in my throat, that Wroth would have to breathe that all the way south to the Rivers.
Or he would leave her for the wargs. If that were the case, I wouldn’t blame him.
My brother was the last of the retinue, the other vampires well ahead with Auré. I would never have allowed Cirri to travel by carriage alone, without vampires guarding her. It said much of their feelings that they silently went ahead without the Lady of the Rivers.
But the fiend said nothing, his nostrils not so much as twitching as he strode by the carriage and his wife. His pale eyes flicked between me and Cirri, tufted tail thrashing.
I stretched out a hand. “I was glad to see you, brother.”
So many things were left unspoken. I’d already said my piece.
And Wroth understood that perfectly well. He nodded slowly, the tips of his fangs showing, and clasped my hand. “For your sake, I will invite my misery on Andrus next year. Far be it from me to bring storms upon your sunlight.”
“No.” I pulled him in for a rough embrace, squeezing his hand. “Bring yourself whenever you wish. You’re still my brother.”
Wroth exhaled, a low rumble deep in his throat as I released him. “Always,” he said, low and gruff. “Perhaps I needed… blunt advice. But it will take time.”
“We have all the time in the world.”
I half expected him to ignore my wife, but when he looked back at her, Cirri said, Things are what we make of them. We’re here for you.
And he took her hand, pressing a kiss to the back, and bowed over it. “My lady.”
Even Cirri looked surprised, but she squeezed Wroth’s huge paw in her hands. To think that only a few days ago, those claws had been raised against her, and I had been prepared for— dreading —the need to kill him… but I hoped he would see that it was possible to find happiness in this necessary arrangement.
Even if it took an extra lifetime—but we had all the time to wait.
He straightened, shook out his mane, and didn’t offer Kajarin a single backwards glance. But as he strode through the gates, he lifted a hand to us before dropping to all fours, racing into the freedom of the forest.
Cirri exhaled slowly. I feel for him .
“As do I.”
Kajarin’s servants packed their lady into the carriage, climbed in after her, and two human guards took up their places on the driver’s seat, cracking the reins and driving the horses out through the gate.
The Lady of the Rivers looked out the window as they passed, and blew a kiss to Cirri. “Don’t forget, darling!”
Cirri only had time to scowl at her, and then the carriage was gone, and my people were closing and barring the gates. Thank the ancestors, it was all over, and I hoped that next year, we could simply celebrate Bloodrain by raising a glass and calling it a night.
Silence reigned in the courtyard for a long moment.
“Don’t forget what?” I asked.
She twitched irritably. The usual spew. She’s a human loyalist.
Ah. That one sentence made everything so clear. “I see.”
She tried to recruit me to the cause . Cirri snorted through her nose as she talked, shaking her head. Clearly I have other plans. But it makes me wonder how a loyalist was chosen at all. It couldn’t possibly have worked out.
“It is questionable.” I stared at the closed gates, thinking it through. Surely Auré had found at least one other candidate? Pureblooded Veladari women weren’t exactly growing on trees, but neither were they uncommonly rare. Plenty of noble families, particularly those to the west and south, had held out during the Forian War, turning their estates into fortresses, avoiding the warg attacks so common on their eastern neighbors. “And insulting, that she tried to lure my own wife away.”
Don’t be insulted . She reached up and stroked my cheek. Nothing she said could take me from you. Not even if she offered the world.
“Ahh, but what if she offered… a library ?” I leered down at her, and Cirri rolled her eyes upwards.
Oh, well, in that case, I’d certainly have to hear her out. I’m absolutely mad for libraries.
“Don’t fear, lover, I’d lure you back with a better one.”
She looked up from under her lashes, giving me a sly smile that made my blood flow hotter instantly. I know you would.
Then she curled a finger, a come-hither gesture that I was helpless against as she stepped around me.
She ducked into the stables, into a darkened, quiet world. A haze drifted through the air, the sweet scent of hay and horses filling my nose.
We have a few moments alone , she said, still smiling. Before someone shows up with a list.
Cirri rose onto her tiptoes, pressing one of those soft kisses against my lips.
The blood in my veins boiled instantly, and I pulled her into an empty stall, out of sight of the courtyard. Nobody would come looking for us here.
As I wrapped my hands around her waist, her soft sigh filled the air, a more beautiful sound than any music. Her lips moved carefully at first, then became hungry, growing in confidence. Time became nothing, all of my focus on the lovely woman in my arms, who would become fully mine in a year.
I leaned down, nuzzling at her throat, admiring the lips that were reddened and pillowy from kissing as she linked her arms around my neck. My tongue flicked over the column of her neck, teeth aching with anticipation of sinking into flesh—
Shouts rang out, echoing through the courtyard. The gates slammed. Swords rattled. Then came the screams of my name.
Cirri jerked her arms down, staring up at me with huge eyes.
Almost as one, we ran for the stable door, heedless of ruffled clothes or reddened lips. Fear pounded through my veins with every stride, the knowledge that I would be investigating a ruined carriage, the torn-up body of my brother’s wife, and despite his hatred, he would have to carry the burden of guilt alone…
But it wasn’t one of the Rivers servants who waited in the courtyard. The messenger was a human boy, one I vaguely recognized as one of Visca’s newest recruits. So young, face still fresh and stubble-free, limbs still lanky.
He’d collapsed on the cobblestones on all fours, trembling with exhaustion, dirty face streaked with tear-tracks.
“Where?” I demanded.
The boy looked up at me, still gasping for breath. “Tristone. Walls came down. She sent me, ‘cause I'm the fastest.”
And all at once, the fear became ice. The Rift-kin. My people.
While we had been dancing, going through the motions of celebration because tradition demanded it, the people I’d sworn to protect had been slaughtered. I’d pushed so hard for those damn walls to be shored up, but with the mines only recently reopened, they had needed months more work, and now… this was where we were.
I knelt, putting a careful hand on his shoulder. “Are there any survivors? Has Visca asked us for any specific supplies?”
The boy looked at me with that empty, shell-shocked look I’d seen on soldiers before, his eyes wide but seeing nothing. A flurry of nervous twitches ran up the right side of his face, pulling his lip up in a sneer, and he retched suddenly, violently, shaking his head.
“None,” he whispered. “Just… come. As fast as you can.”
I gave him a last pat and stood slowly, mulling through my next steps. The servants had gathered, faces pale; I gestured to Yuli. “Take him inside. Give him something hot to drink and keep him warm. He’s in shock, and he’s run a long way. When you’re done, tell Wyn we’ll need her there.”
She nodded, face strained, and she and one of the other maids surrounded the boy, offering gentle murmurs as they got him to his feet.
Cirri was just as pale, her hands fisted at her sides, but she raised her chin as she looked at me. I’m coming with you.
“You don’t want to see it,” I said, regretting that the embers of lust had mutated so quickly into cold fear of what I’d find. How quickly the whims of fate changed… and now I knew what Hakkon had been planning.
Visca had brought the soldiers east, and he had struck in the north, in one of the villages supposedly defended by its walls. I should have known. It was my job to anticipate what he might do, and yet… so many times, Hakkon had gotten the better of me.
You can tell me no, but I’ll ride behind you , she said. Just accept it. What do you need next?
I nodded, taking a deep breath. “The rest of the soldiers stay. The keep can’t be left untended. We’ll bring healer’s supplies, in case… just in case.”
Cirri nodded. I’ll get them . She turned on her heel, striding away and breaking into a run.
“Take me with you.” I found Miro at my shoulder, green eyes blazing. “Especially if she’s coming with you. Better to have two pairs of eyes looking out than one.”
I counted the guards on the wall, on the gate. Twenty. Enough to hold the keep against invasion until reinforcements arrived. “Be ready in five.”
Miro strode off, and I was left alone.
Alone with a mountain of regrets and self-recrimination. How could I not have seen it? And now all of Tristone would pay for my short-sightedness.
I should have forced the mines open earlier. Damn their superstitions, their outdated beliefs—the walls had been more important. It was easier to whip men into working against their will than to pick up their ravaged corpses.
I should have told Wyn to put off Bloodrain. Better to have walked the Rift myself on my own feet, to have a feel for what Hakkon might be thinking, than to stay and play host to a gaggle of entitled nobles.
Could have, should have… and no amount of regret would change what had to happen now.
Burial duty. Ancestors knew I was no stranger to the pits of the war, when bodies had been stacked six-high and set alight.
I closed my eyes, breathing in the cold air, and let go of the regret. I’d had a hand in this, and now I would clean up after myself.
The soft clop of hooves on stone approached: the grooms, holding the reins of two horses. Cirri emerged from the keep, wearing a thicker cloak, Rose and Thorn on her heels with heavy bags in their arms.
The golems loaded the chestnut mare with the bags, and Rose cupped her hands, giving Cirri a boost into the saddle.
Thank you , she said. But you can’t come outside the keep. Wait in the tower, please. Or the library.
The golems resisted her order for as long as they could, their faces turned longingly towards their mistress, but as Miro emerged, wearing a sword and several daggers, they slunk away with ill-grace.
Miro glanced sidelong at Cirri. “Do you think you can handle this?”
She nodded shortly. Take us there, Bane. We’re right behind you.
I looked up at her as she nudged her horse forward, and rested my hand on her leg for an all-too-brief moment. “We’re taking the road north. Keep heading that way, even if you lose sight of me. By horse, it will take several hours. Miro, you know the way.”
She touched my hand, and waved me on.
“Yes, my Lord.” Miro nudged his horse towards the outer wall.
We went through the gate, and the soldiers silently shut it behind us. I waited, listening as they locked and barred it— several times, the doors crossed with cold iron, with silver, with steel.
Only then, on packed earth and pine needles, did I drop to all fours, letting my body shift just a little—enough to carry me swiftly, as swift as the fastest warg.
“There’s going to be blood,” Miro hissed, and I couldn’t see Cirri’s reply, my eyes clenched shut tight as the pain of the adjustment spread through my arms and legs.
My wife could handle herself. I took another breath, tasting the air, and galloped towards the northern road. No sign of wargs yet… but there would be.
I circled back at times, ensuring Cirri and Miro were behind me and safe. He did as I ordered, guiding her to the north, and Cirri rode in apprehensive silence, not even trying to communicate with him.
It wasn’t until the misty ceiling of the sky was bright white that I caught the first telling whiff on the wind, blood and rot and warg piss.
The northern road was paved with stone, unlike much of the Rift’s hard-packed dirt. And up ahead, there was Tristone’s wall, a section visible through the trees.
Once, it had been a high wall. Time had brought it crumbling down; in the first years of the war, newly emerged from Below and determined to prove our worth, we had built it back up.
But war took its toll on everything. Constant warg attacks, combined with the Forian Army’s cannonfire, had brought it low again.
And if I’d simply forced the Rift-kin to work the mines earlier, we might have rebuilt it enough to withstand a siege. As it was… chunks of the wall had been long exposed, and had been scaled easily. Unlike Thornvale, they hadn’t built a barricade of sharpened stakes tipped with wolfsbane.
They had been an easy meal, easy pickings.
The scent of slaughter was a thick reek, coating my throat and choking me with every breath as we approached. Several vampire knights, standing sentry duty, watched warily as we approached. A horn blew, cutting through the unnatural silence.
Visca pushed one sentry aside, emerging from a broken section of the wall. Her brown skin was smeared with blood, black braid wild, face grim.
“Here’s our answer, then. Hakkon had his eyes set northward.” She shook her head and spit, eyes flicking to Cirri and Miro. “The wargs are long gone. He took them late last night. Folk down Fog Hollow way thought they heard a signal horn, but they didn’t send anyone to check until sunrise.”
I rose up, brushing my filthy palms on my trousers. They’d be covered in worse soon enough. “Of course they didn’t,” I said, gritting my teeth, wondering what waited on the other side of that sad, half-collapsed wall. I almost wanted to turn my back on it, to let it all rot.
What was the point of shouldering responsibility for all of them, for their survival, if they were more content to wallow in the dirt with their cold iron charms for protection? If they were willing to put off opening the mines for fear of ghosts, knowing that their defenses had crumbled so far past service they might as well be a hindrance?
But I had accepted it when I took the throne, and now I would walk through the horror that awaited me and take all the guilt onto my own shoulders. I’d sworn my life to it.
“It’s exactly what you expect,” Visca said flatly. She looked at Cirri in full. “It’s bad, my Lady. Might be best for you to stay outside the walls.”
Cirri set her lips flat and signed in the terse, simplified movements used by the Silent Brothers. I’ll do what I can.
In truth, I was glad she was with me. I couldn’t empty Tristone of the dead while worrying every second that Hakkon would be slipping around to take the keep. I only hated that she would see the carnage in full.
“There’s nothing to do. I’ve got a full legion on corpse duty, and another digging the pits.” Visca stepped through the breach in the wall, and I followed.
It was like walking into the past, but all the more sickening for how fresh it all was.
My eyes went straight to the church, where the wargs had painted, as they liked to do—leaving their calling card everywhere they spread destruction. The scent of their piss was strong, burning my nose; the bodies were at least preserved by the cold, the reek of decomposition not quite as terrible as it could’ve been.
But the sight … that was terrible. The wargs had not just painted, but built a totem from some of the bodies, pieces of flesh strung on wire, the wire twisted around splintered poles, the poles dug deep into the earth. The configuration in the middle of the town was like a tree, the frost-stiffened limbs its drooping branches.
Visca pulled her lips back in a feral sneer.
“No graves.” She kept her voice quiet. “Fuck, we can’t even figure out which piece belongs with whom. Better to have a pit.”
I turned back as Miro rode through, followed by Cirri. She looked up, already apprehensive, and her face went blank. Skin pale as the snow on the ground, all blood draining from it.
“Stay in the village,” I told her, no gentleness to my tone. “Keep the legions in sight.”
She nodded, but almost absently. Still terribly blank.
“You need do nothing,” I said, softer now. “But I must help bury them.”
Another nod. Miro dismounted, looking around with wide eyes, jaw set tight. “Where do you need me?”
I gestured expansively. “Corpse duty.”
The snow was so red. An auspicious color, in normal times.
Not so for these people. I took in the carnage, the abattoir the wargs had made of my people.
“Might be time to consider taking the fight to him.” Visca sidled closer.
“To where? The Below?” I looked at my commander. “We could hunt down there for years, and earn nothing for our efforts but a loss of our own. For all we know, he’s found a city of his own down there to reinforce.”
“Right. It was just a thought.” She sighed, but her eyes were hard. “This can’t go on forever. Hakkon, his little death cult of wolves… they need killing, Bane.”
“I know it,” I muttered, and helped her as she took a man’s corpse under the armpits. His iced-over eyes stared up at her, wide with shock and horror.
“Maybe we need to risk the loss. To go Below again anyway.” She sucked at her teeth, then spat again, clearing her throat. “This fucking reek . It’s not much of a choice, but it’s better than this stalemate between us where everyone else pays the price.”
I looked at Cirri one more time, sitting frozen on her horse, staring at the slaughter. I couldn’t leave her alone. But I couldn’t always stay, when I had promised these people I’d end it.
Sometimes there weren’t any good choices. Sometimes there were no choices at all.