Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Lucius
“The Owl… they’ve been killing women because of this, what did you call it? Omega blood?” Constant Linden asked. Lucius watched as the man went from horrified to livid in two seconds flat. “And they dared take my daughter?”
“Indeed. Twice.” Lucius crossed his leg over his knee. “We’re doing this not just because of what they”ve been doing all these decades, but for what they planned on doing to your daughter, my lord. Another reason we cannot let them in on knowing what we’re about. Let them think we’re on our way to Goth Mor Helle. I’m sure someone has noticed the number of Ongahri traveling as of late, and who knows what they know from our time in Ghypsom City.”
The sandy-haired constant nodded. “Of course. When will you leave and when can I arrange a meeting with the Tributary? They must be told.”
Lucius looked at Fadon. Both of them knew the Tributary was also involved in this.
“Tell him,” Fadon bid.
And so Lucius did, starting with the latest news on the Variantia and the blueprints he had gotten his hands on. When he was done sharing what he knew about the weapon hidden in the Garrian mountains, Constant Linden was up and about, pacing the room, a pipe clenched tightly in his hand.
“Mother save us.”
“She will, if we play this right,” Demos said.
The constant turned to Demos then. “What about the Supreme? Has he been… compromised? Is he behind this atrocity as well?”
Demos shook his head. “Last I knew, Supreme Nevilah was not at all involved. But he is very old. His years are ending. He knows nothing about this, what’s been going on under his nose all this time. He is no longer what he once was, I’m afraid.”
“I have heard rumors that they are voting in a new Supreme. Rumors of his retirement.” Constant Linden resumed his seat and placed his unlit pipe down carefully on the side table next to him. “And you plan on going directly to the Basilica, when?”
Lucius let out a breath. “We will leave the day after tomorrow.”
The man nodded. “Anything you need, I will provide.”
“I appreciate that, my lord.” Lucius leaned forward, elbows on knees. “I do wish to ask if you can assist me in convincing Sierra to stay here, in Providence. It’s much too dangerous for her where we’ll be going.”
The man lifted his mouth in a fatherly smile. “I’m glad to see that you care for my daughter. I’m afraid she may not listen to me, though. She is a stubborn creature.”
A few chuckles went around the room.
Lucius nodded. “Please. All I ask is that you try. You and your wife.”
“I will do what I can. I agree with you wholeheartedly that she stay here. What are your plans for when you arrive at the Order?” At this, the Constant looked to Fadon. Lucius had to bite back the feeling of irritation that he’d addressed Trajan. It was a reminder to Lucius that there was a mighty subjective contrast between Queen of a people and Chieftain of a tribe. Lucius might have had the late king’s blood running in his veins, but it was his half-sister who held the power in name only.
Fadon leaned forward in his seat as well. “Our plan is to end this. No more Fealty, no more death. They have declared war on the Ongahri. Whatever it takes to end this, that is our plan,” he said, his tone dripping in threat. “As much as we would like to help the good leaders of Titus, those like you, Constant, who have been blind to these machinations, it is not in my purview. I’ll leave that to you and those you trust.”
Constant Linden let out a deep breath, considering. “Trust. I only trust a handful, I’m afraid.”
Lucius found that he quite liked the man. He had met many constants in his life, but Sierra’s father actually listened, was intelligent, and wasn’t puffed up with the role of leader. Remembering his first and only visit here when Lucius was a teen, he wondered if he had met a young Linden during that brief stay, but he couldn’t recall.
Somewhere in the room a clock chimed.
“Forgive me,” Constant Linden said, standing up. “I have kept you gentlemen long enough. Let’s get you all settled, and I’ll see about getting you all something to eat. I’m sure you’re all ready to drop from your journey. I honestly don’t see how you rode all this way in this weather.”
Out in the hall now, the men chatted about the state of the roads and such while servants showed them to their rooms. Supper would be served within the hour in the dining room.
Lucius spied Pateus coming down the hall and spoke briefly to him about the other Ongahri’s whereabouts, about the cervos. Everyone had been seen to and was currently staying in several guest houses. The cervos had been fed and housed, and all that was left to do now was to change, wash up, and go back downstairs to eat that promised meal.
A servant opened the last door on the right, at the end of the hall, and Lucius stepped inside. It was there that he found Sierra. Her cheeks were rosy, her hair damp. She’d had a bath, he saw, and could smell a light floral scent filling the room. His poor dove finally had gotten her wish of a hot bath in a proper tub. After so many weeks of traveling, she deserved it and more.
Another reason she needed to stay here with her parents. Being out there in the frigid, desolate weather was no place for his wife. She needed to stay here. Constant Linden kept his city well stocked, well-guarded, and she would be surrounded by people she loved and had missed.
But convincing her? Ongar, he’d need to pull out all his punches to do that.
“Hello, Little Dove. I see you have your priorities straight.”
She brushed her long hair in front of the fire, the swishing of the bristles making him long for those nights in Ordelpho with her, right before bed. “Oh, Lucius, it’s so nice to be clean again.”
He squatted down beside her and touched a slippered foot. “Sierra.”
The brush stopped and she rested it on her lap. “Am I going to like what you have to say?”
“What makes you say that?”
“You usually don’t start conversations with my name.”
He chuckled, but to his ears it sounded empty.
“What is it? Just tell me.”
“I want you to stay here,” he said. “With your parents, while we go to the Basilica.”
“Absolutely not.”
Lucius sighed and tried to take her hand, but she pulled it away, whip-fast, from him.
“Will you at least hear me out?” he asked hoarsely.
“I will. It won’t do you any good, though, so you might as well just put your mouth to better use.”
Desire rose to a fever pitch in an instant at her innuendo. “You’re trying to distract me, aren’t you?”
Her grin was genuine, but he knew her well enough to know that if he dared to touch her right now, she’d reject him out of temper.
So instead, he stood and sat down in the chair directly across from her. “Please do this for me, Sierra. Knowing you are here, safe, fed, warm… I’ll be able to focus on what it is we need to do.”
“That’s not my problem, Lucius. I’m not staying. Not only will I worry my guts out, but I think I have to be there. I told you about the elemental, told you I saw her in the Order’s dungeon. I’m a part of this.”
He gritted his teeth and looked away. “Those fucking elementals and whoever, whatever, else are responsible for this. It is them who should be getting that woman out, not you.” When he looked at her again, her expression was full of compassion, both for the woman trapped in ice in some gods-forsaken realm and for his pain. He knew then that no matter what he said, no matter how much he were to beg, she was resolved in this.
“I will be okay. Do I want to stay here? Oh, Lucius, I do. So much. But it’s not the way this needs to play out.”
“You sound like Demos.”
She left her seat and crawled into his lap. “When this is over, we’ll have all the time in the world. I promise.”
“You can promise no such thing if you’re dead.” Fear and irritation battled it out inside him, and he wrapped his arms around her small body, wanting to shrink her and press her into his skin, like one of his tattoos. She’d have no choice but to stay with him, warm and safe. But he’d learned long ago that taking away her choice, her agency, made a lie of what he loved most about her.
Her warm palm cupped his face. “I love you, Lucius. And I do promise to do everything in my power to make sure I stay alive. Will you promise me the same?”
“I promise.” He kissed her on the nose.
“Now, I’m going to finish up here, have someone send us up some food, have it just be me and you. Meanwhile, I want you to bathe and shave that gods-awful fur off your face. I miss your face.”
“Fine,” he said, laughing.
“Good.”
Later, when he was freshly shaved, bathed, and had changed into clean clothes, he sat across from her at the small table the servants had brought in. In the candlelight, Sierra looked ethereal. And exhausted.
“How do you think it went with your parents?” He took a sip of wine. Very good wine. He’d have to remember to ask about its vintage.
“I think… I think they understood as much as they could. My mother likes you.”
“Oh, she does, does she? She has good taste.” He winked at her, and she laughed.
“She finds you quite appealing, husband. So watch your bottom if she happens to walk by.”
He almost spit out his wine. Wiping his mouth with a linen napkin, he choked out, “What?”
“She thinks you’re, what was it she said?” She tilted her head, remembering. “’Delicious.’ I agree.”
“Hmm. Well, why don’t you show me how delicious I am, Little Dove. Right now.”
“Oh, gladly, my lord.”
Aknock at the door had Lucius sitting up. The room was dark, save for the fire that still burned in the hearth. Beside him Sierra slept, on her stomach, her face turned away, a hand tucked under the pillow. He slipped out of the blankets and shoved on his breeches, then walked over to the door and opened it.
“My apologies, Chieftain,” Pateus whispered. “You’re being summoned to the gate.”
“Give me a minute.” He shut the door and got dressed, pushing his feet into his boots, and grabbed his cloak before joining Pateus out in the hall.
“Any idea what this is about?” he asked his secretary.
“Only that someone outside the gates asked for you, Chieftain.”
Lucius had no idea who it could be, but it was probably related to the reconnaissance mission. Perhaps that party had sent someone over to give him a message.
When they got to the gatehouse, Lucius recognized the two Ongahri males who were bundled up in warm wool. Chkuly from Jasper Tribe, and Philip, one of his men from Ordelpho. The latter he patted on the shoulder.
“Philip, you’re a sight for sore eyes. Glad you got my message. Are the others with you?” Lucius looked behind the two men to see for himself, but the night’s darkness was too thick.
“They are a few miles out, Chieftain. This blasted weather, I tell you… we would have met up with you sooner, but… It’s like nothing I’ve seen before. Anyway, we have another herd.”
“Perfect timing, as we just arrived earlier today. We’ll be heading out day after tomorrow.” Lucius looked around behind him, thinking. “Will you need to bring them here?”
“Not until it’s time to leave. Not an easy feat to get them started.”
“Very well.” Lucius got the directions to the party’s location and promised to meet them after breakfast. He watched the two Ongahri leave outside the gate, then stood next to Pateus, eyeing the sky. It was a swirl of gray and black, clouds that reflected the snow on every surface. He could see his and Pateus’ breath as each man exhaled. There was not a sound to be heard. The landscape looked like a prelude to a nightmare on the Longest Night.
He longed for the sun, for warmth. For home in Ordelpho. He might not be a magical being like Phobius or these elementals he was hearing about, nor a Servant with a modicum of spiritual awareness, but even he, an Ongahri Alpha, could sense something “other” in the air, in the cold wind that blew. Something supernatural. Something not meant to be in stasis.
With a shudder, he motioned to Pateus to follow and made his way back to his warm bed, where his wife slept on, safe and dreaming.