Chapter VI. Among the Ashes #2
“It was Charlotte calling, soldiers gathered in legion about her. Beyond the gatehouse tunnel they waited in, I could see a firelit courtyard, a limestone keep looming into the night. My brethren and I exchanged wary glances and dismounted, trudging toward the lion’s jaws.
Closing on the gatehouse, we were all conscious of the eyes now watching us, the burning crossbows trained upon us, how bloody this might get.
But we also knew if we couldn’t mend Ashdrinker’s hurts in León, we were in for a long trek to the capital, and God only knew if Augustin’s walls would be standing by the time we arrived.
“We crossed the drawbridge, hooves clomping mud-stained wood, on into the tunnel. Charlotte awaited at the far end, silent until we passed beneath the gate arch.
“‘Seal it! ’
“With the chatter of metal teeth and the song of iron, a portcullis slammed down behind us, sealing off the tunnel at our backs. At the same time, a second portcullis fell ahead, cutting off our advance. Rosebud reared up in fright at the deafening crash, Baptiste shouting alarm, Aaron flashing back the way we’d come in a blinking.
He could’ve made it clear, slipping across the drawbridge with his unholy swiftness before the portcullis fell.
But that would’ve meant abandoning his love, and despite the shadow festering between them, I knew Aaron would never abide that.
“Instead, the four of us now stood trapped in that tunnel like rabbits as the terriers come barking, solid iron bars in front and behind. Charlotte stood on the other side of the fore-portcullis, archers training bows on our chests, dark eye fixed on mine.
“‘Is this the worth of your oath?’ I demanded. ‘You swore we’d not be harmed!’
“‘Save on word of my lord. I go now to seek it. Pray to whomever the godless worship that my Baron deems you more worthy of mercy than I.’ Charlotte glanced to her second, voice cold as the iron between us.
‘If they try to break through, Lieutenant Mathieu, slay them all. Starting with our good Sword of the Realm.’
“My hands closed about the bars as she strode away. Baptiste placed a gentle hand on my shoulder as the metal groaned. I looked to Aaron, wondering if he could smash through the portcullis before too many arrows flew. If you don’t gamble, you won’t win, coldblood.
But this was a bad wager, and we all knew it.
“‘Well, then.’ Lachie reached for his pipe. ‘Anyone know any jokes?’
“‘Your haircut,’ Aaron murmured, studying the archway above.
“‘Good one.’
“‘Far from it.’
“‘You will forgive ma dame.’
“I glanced through the portcullis as Charlotte’s second spoke.
Lieutenant Mathieu was a bear of a man, salt-and-pepper hair, thick beard, dark eyes.
The scars on his knuckles and the prowl in his walk spoke of a life spent in battle, but he was soft-spoken, thoughtful; a good right hand for a capitaine who ran hot as my cousin.
“‘Mlle de León is a faithful daughter of God,’ he said. ‘But she has no love of the Dead, Chevalier.’ He glanced to Aaron, scowling. ‘Nor those who truck with them.’
“I nodded. ‘All know these are dark nights. But her ire seems … personal.’
“The man scratched his beard, glancing after my cousin.
“‘You wanted to know how ma dame got her name.’
“‘I fancied we’d seek out a brothel in the city, ask the nearest troubadour.’
“The man scoffed, nodding to the keep behind us. ‘This city is a sanctuary, Chevalier. The last light in the west. But twelve years ago, León teetered on the edge of a knife. We were infected. Corrupted. Highblooded vampires had lived here in secret for years, and when daysdeath fell, no longer did they fear the light. Three broods—mediae of Voss, Chastain, Dyvok—crawled from their nests, staking a claim of the Lion’s Den. They’d no armies such as you battled in your youth; these bloodlords fought a shadow war.
Their thralls held sway on our council, members of the Baron’s own house fell to the spell of their blood.
My bride Leóna was handmaid to Charlotte’s mother, Elsbet.
’ The lieutenant hung his head and sighed.
‘She was murdered with her mistress and her husband when the Chastain made a play for the Baron’s throne. ’
“‘Condolences, monsieur.’
“Mathieu nodded, throat gone tight. ‘Merci, Chevalier.’
“‘And your dame?’ Aaron asked. ‘La Lionne Cendrée?’
“The lieutenant’s lip curled, eyes glittering with hate. As he stared my brother down, I knew what he saw now: The same kind of fiend that had murdered his beloved.
“‘Ma dame was stricken with grief when her parents were slain,’ he replied. ‘She went to Le D?me, León’s great cathedral, to seek solace in prayer. But upon that holy ground, she was instead given a vision. Same as her blessed ancestor had once seen. The sight that bid him build this city, this beacon that yet burns in our dark.’ The man gestured to the iron pin upon his hauberk.
‘Gabriel, Angel of Fire, his sword dripping flame and his wings ablaze. And at the sight, ma dame was filled with the light of the Lord.’
“Around him, Charlotte’s archers made the sign of the wheel.
“‘Alight with his faith, she set out to reclaim our city from the Dead. She purged the council and her grandfather’s house of those corrupted by the highbloods. Putting them to the rack, learning where their masters slept. And in one fell day, she destroyed them all.’
“I glanced to Lachlan, sighing.
“‘Forgive me, Lieutenant. But that sounds the tallest kind of tale. How did a twenty-year-old woman take down three broods of highblooded mediae?’
“‘With the three things that built this empire, Chevalier. Faith, steel, and black ignis.’
“Lachie smiled, fingers drumming on his powder horn. ‘She blew them up.’
“Mathieu nodded. ‘The Dyvok had claimed the docks. The Chastain slept beneath the council hall. The Voss, the theater district. The fires ma dame set were terrible. Thousands died. But better to burn off a gangrenous arm than allow the sickness to spread.’
“‘Seven Martyrs,’ Baptiste breathed.
“‘She walked the ruins thereafter. Looking into the faces of those whose homes she’d destroyed, whose loved ones she’d burned. Some called her hero. Many, butcher. To this day, most know not what to make of her. But the name they settled upon, all know.’
“‘The Ashen Lioness,’ I murmured.
“I heard the doors to the great keep open and, as if summoned by her name, my cousin emerging with a cohort of fresh soldiers. I watched her march across the bailey, burn scars etched on her face, fire in her eye. Twelve years back, I was being cast from the Silver Order; it was little wonder I’d not heard my cousin’s story before.
But it was also no surprise Charlotte thought so ill of me.
While I was off seducing nuns and breaking sacred oaths, she was burning half this city down to save the other.
“‘Quite a woman,’ Lachie said.
“‘Quite a lunatic,’ Aaron replied.
“Charlotte stopped before me, sword singing as she drew it from her scabbard. Lieutenant Mathieu stepped back, his ash-kissed brow darkening. The portcullis yet stood between us, Charlotte’s one good eye locked on mine.
I was tense as the bowstrings in her archers’ hands, Aaron bristling beside me, set to crash through those iron bars before these fanatics killed us all.
“Charlotte’s lips curled as she spoke.
“‘Baron Gerrard will see you now.’”