Two The Circling Vulture
TWO
The Circling Vulture
I
Nora stood before the door at the heart of the fortress. Sunlight speared down from the corridor’s high windows, pinning her to the spot. She could not make herself take another step.
The morning after her tryst with a Hesperine, the last place she wanted to set foot was the shrine. The last person she wanted to see was Sir Virtus.
But she should not have been surprised the Knight Commander had come for a visit today. He always seemed to appear at precisely the moment to catch her in wrongdoing.
She wrenched her thoughts away from the Hesperine and the hours she had lain awake, her body burning with unfulfilled desire. Instead, she envisioned architectural diagrams. Her plans for the fortress expansion were so soothing.
Her calm splintered when she spotted a new crack in the wall between two tapestries. There could be no expansion until she managed the repairs.
The heavy old door groaned open, and she jumped. Sir Virtus stood in the doorway, his gold and white surcoat overbright to her bleary eyes.
“Where is your mind, Honora?” He clucked his tongue, a frown on his patrician face. “Daydreaming about building palaces again?”
She made herself wait before replying, a lesson she had learned the hard way many times. The first words out of her mouth were always the wrong ones. Not that she ever said precisely the right thing.
“Uncle Virtus!” She was proud of the false cheer she managed to muster. “What brings you riding all the way up here? I wasn’t expecting to see you until Autumn Equinox.”
“Come.” He held the door open and motioned her inside.
She broke out in a sweat, but pulled her shawl closer around her arms. If she hesitated, he would think she had something to confess. She forced her feet over the threshold.
The phantom pains flared along her arms, stinging her skin, aching much deeper within. She walked ahead of him so he wouldn’t see her grimace.
The walls lined with relics seemed to shrink in on her, bringing the gleaming silver swords and chalices of holy fire dangerously close. The tomes chained to their stands seemed to judge her.
She carefully ignored the locked, inlaid box where only one of a pair of knightly daggers rested. Above all, she must not give him a reason to open the dagger case.
“Do not feign innocence, Honora.” Sir Virtus’s voice echoed through the shrine chamber.
Could he already know Arceo was missing? If he found out she was hunting a Hesperine on her own, he would take the kill and the glory for himself. And if he found out she had let a Hesperine tarnish her with even one bite, he would subject her to purification.
She shut her eyes upon the shrine of Andragathos at the head of the room. But she could still see the white shield in her mind’s eye. The god’s glyph, emblazoned in golden spell light, seemed to burn through her eyelids.
Sir Virtus’s footfalls halted beside her. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
She resisted the urge to cover her wrist with her hand.
“The news reached my ears,” he said, “as soon as you failed to secure a proposal from your last suitor.”
Slowly, Nora let out the breath she had been holding. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. “The Order gave me until Autumn Equinox to find a husband. I have two more days.”
“My dear, we both know you have run out of unmarried knights to court you. Who else is there, and how could you manage to secure him in two days?”
She couldn’t. But in that amount of time, she could poison and excardiate a Hesperine.
“You cannot build a palace in two days, either,” Sir Virtus scoffed. “What is all the scaffolding in the corridors?”
“Some of the repairs cannot wait any longer. We’ve already had to put them off for too long, with skilled builders and materials in such short supply. Every noble house in Tenebra is scrambling to rebuild after the last round of feud sieges.”
“What did I tell you about your improper preoccupation with architecture? The journals of your ancestors who built the fortress are entirely inappropriate reading material for a lady. If you devoted as much effort to weaving as you do to studying the fortifications, you would have found a husband by now.”
She knew her obsession with the fortress was one of her weaknesses. But at least it was a useful one that kept Castra Gloria from falling down around their ears. She made certain not to babble about it to her suitors. Not that it had mattered.
Sir Virtus sighed. “You must understand the Order’s stipulation. Castra Gloria was granted to your distant forefather in recognition of his deeds, but his heirs were entitled to hold it only as long as they continued to supply knights or wives to the Order.”
She bit her tongue and waited out his lecture.
“If only I were your uncle by blood, so we could keep the fortress in the family. But your father was my brother-in-arms. In his absence, it is my sacred duty to guide you. I have done my best, but you are already twenty-four, and we all know you lack the forbearance and modesty to be a holy knight’s lady. It is time to accept that you will never marry.”
How dare he? He was not her father. And she was not a fool. She knew who stood to gain the most if Castra Gloria reverted to the Order’s possession.
Sir Virtus lived and breathed for the Order—and for his position in it. Her family’s relics and strategic keep would bring power and prestige to the holy knights and thus, to Sir Virtus.
Nora had always suspected he envied her father’s accomplishments. The way he had been circling like a vulture since her parents’ deaths only confirmed it. He already acted like he lived here, arriving whenever he pleased, ordering her servants about as if he was their master.
Without invitation, he knelt in the place where her father had always prayed. “The other knights will arrive on Autumn Equinox to rededicate the fortress to the Order. But do not fear for your future, my dear. You know I will always watch over you. You can come to live in my stronghold, under my guidance.”
For once, Nora didn’t have to fight to hold in an unwise outburst. Her throat closed. The air left her lungs. She huddled in her shawl, the phantom pains slashing over her skin.
This was the future he envisioned for her. Her family legacy would end with an embarrassment the Order preferred to forget. She would lose her good name, her home, and any shred of power she had over her own fate. She would exist under his watchful eye for the rest of her life.
Sir Virtus had saved her from the Hesperine who had murdered her parents. She might owe him her life, but not her obedience. Her home. Her legacy.
She would have to carry out the rest of her plan under his nose. She knew what a desperate idea it was. There had only been a handful of dames in the history of the Order. But despite her shortcomings, she would make her parents proud. Even if they were not here to see it.
She would hold her castle.
q
Nora crept along the corridor, keeping to the shadows between the torches. Her scaffolding lay in piles of dismantled timbers. How quickly Lord Virtus had ordered it taken down. How willingly the servants who had known her all her life had hastened to obey him.
At the open doorway to the shrine, she pressed against the wall, staying clear of the light that spilled out. Paper rustled. Sir Virtus was still awake, helping himself to her family’s books? She had thought he would be abed by now.
She crossed to the far side of the corridor where the glow didn’t quite reach, but the shadows were not deep enough. Her heart pounding, she ducked behind the remains of the scaffolds. One stride. Two. Three.
She was past the open doorway. She straightened, slipping into the gloom, and breathed a sigh of relief.
Then a hand closed over her shoulder.
She swallowed a shriek, halting in her tracks. The hand spun her around. She looked up into the shadowed face of Sir Virtus.
“Honora.” His low, quiet rebuke sent a chill down her spine. “What is a holy knight’s daughter doing out of her chambers at this unholy hour?”
Nora knew she wore her guilt and anger on her face for him to see. Hiding her reactions was not a skill she possessed. Her only hope was to construct a lie that matched her expression.
“I came to check on the repairs. I knew you would disapprove, so I waited until after dark. How could you take down the scaffolding, Uncle Virtus?”
He made a derisive sound. “Get your head out of your diagrams, girl. Imagine what people will think if you wander the halls at night, as if out for a tryst!”
“Of course, Uncle Virtus. I’ll go straight back to bed.” She ducked out of his hold and turned back the way she had come.
He caught one of her arms in a tight grip. She bit back a cry of pain. Dragging her a step closer to him, he loomed over her in the half-light.
“Is scaffolding all you have been playing with, Honora?” He squeezed her arm harder.
She blinked back tears. “What can you mean?”
“Arceo is missing from the shrine. Sancti is alone in the dagger case.”
Sancti, the Blade of Purification. The relic’s name sent a pall over her. If Sir Virtus had opened the dagger case, he was planning to use Arceo’s twin.
Sir Virtus leaned nearer. “Are architecture journals all you’ve been playing with, Nora?”
She shrank back. “You know I would never go near the dagger case.”
“Must I remind you how valuable those relics are?” His voice rose. “Your father was the youngest knight to receive the honor of carrying Sancti. It brought him glory all the years he possessed it. And when they finally conveyed Arceo upon him as well, it was the crowning achievement of his service to the Order.”
If only they had known a Hesperine would be waiting to ambush him on the way home from the ceremony. If only the relics had been enough to save her parents.
“You don’t have to remind me,” Nora said. “My father died for Arceo.”
“Yes, he did. And like everything else in this castle, the daggers belong to the Order now. Do you understand me?”
She dropped her gaze. “Yes, Uncle Virtus.”
“You know how forgiving I am,” he said more quietly. “I will take no action until after dawn rites. That will give you the opportunity to confess, if there is anything you’re hiding from me. But if Arceo is not in the case by the end of my morning prayers, there will be consequences.”
“One of the servants must have stolen it.” Nora had no qualms about blaming the traitors. “We can start searching the castle after dawn rites.”
“You’d best hope we find it among the servants, then.”
The relic would be safe in the one place ascetic Sir Virtus would never look. Up a virgin’s skirts.
“Get back to your rooms.” He shoved her away from him and watched her flee.
When she was certain he hadn’t followed her, she cut down a side passage, then slipped through a hidden archway behind a tapestry. She knew every twist and turn of Castra Gloria that had been built, rebuilt, and cobbled together over the centuries.
The moons were high in the sky by the time she reached the clearing. The moment she stepped out of the trees, the Hesperine appeared.
“I began to think you had reconsidered our agreement,” he said.
“I was merely delayed.” She straightened, trying to catch her breath. “I keep my oaths, Firstblood Dar—Dayr…”
He arched a brow at her. “If you find my full name too difficult to pronounce, you may call me Dav.”
She cleared her throat. “Well, that only seems fair, since you refuse to call me by my proper name.”
“Yes I do…Nora.” Her name sounded indecent on his tongue. “I have many things to show you tonight.”
Curse her heart, already starting to pound. His pupils expanded, and his lips parted, giving her a glimpse of his fangs.
“Not that sort of demonstration,” he said. “I intend to teach you about Hesperine culture.”
She frowned at him. “I am not here for a lesson in heresy. Take my blood and be done with it.”
“Ah, but I have my side of the agreement to keep as well.” He held out his hand to her. “Come with me.”
She shrank back. “Where do you intend to take me?”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “To my lair.”
She stood rooted to the spot. “You have a lair? On my lands?”
“Yes, but you cannot get in unless I take you there.”
“This is not part of our agreement.”
“Our agreement did not place any limitations on where your tribute will take place.”
“You cannot expect me to abscond with you.”
His gaze dropped to the grass. “I will not continue drinking from you in this place.”
Silence fell between them. If he had tried to trick or cajole her, she would have dug her heels in. But she could not, in truth, fault him for this. Neither of them wanted their next battle to take place here where their kin had died.
She had already placed herself at his mercy. What matter if she went deeper into danger with him?
She took his hand.