The Moroi Hunters Page 17
The soldiers sheathed their blades and took in hand their bows, nocking arrows. The sound of the strings being pulled taut had a quieting influence upon the villagers.
In a chillingly emotionless tone, Yah’l said, “You will be silent, or my archers will fire into the crowd. Any sound after that will be met by a more personal display of violence.”
Although the villagers did not know Yah’l’s identity, his intense but passionless presence made none of them doubt his word.
The crowd quieted and the spy marshal continued. “Good. I speak with the voice of Duke Munar, our future king. We believe a criminal, an outlaw and traitor against the Court, is being hidden within this village. Within the tannery, specifically.” Yah’l scanned the crowd to gauge reactions. Two caught his attention, and he noted them for further interrogation.
“We will take this fugitive—Halura, Shayala’s former guard captain. Any who aid her will meet the same fate. However, His Grace is just, and those who provide information will be rewarded. I know there is a tunnel beneath the tannery. Where does it lead?”
When no response came, he continued, “Do not mistake His Grace’s mercy and generosity for weakness. Once it is discovered where the tunnel leads, any who had knowledge of it will be executed, their families and thralls executed, and their neighbors as well.”
The fear on many faces was evident, yet still no one offered information. Yah’l thought, They are either ignorant or very loyal.
“Very well. Your fate is your own.” With that, Yah’l left the hall and located Hyshin, who had overseen the search of the village. The lieutenant, speaking to three underlings, stood near a herd of chattel that had been collected. Yah’l said only, “Report.”
“There’s been no movement at the tannery. We’ve located one passage within a home at the far end of the village. Two soldiers stand watch there but will not enter the tunnel until ordered. We continue to search the remainder of the village and interrogate the chattel as well.”
Yah’l nodded. “Take the tannery. And, Lieutenant, she is to be taken alive. If she dies, you will wish you had as well.”
“Aye.” Hyshin struck the left side of his chest with his fist in salute. Withdrawing, he mustered a decade of soldiers, then stormed the single entrance of the stone structure.
The wooden door broke away easily, and in charged the soldiers, who found themselves within a salesroom. A wooden counter spanned nearly the width of the room; along each sidewall were racks of accessories, all of leather. The caustic smells from the tanning process were rich within the room. Behind the counter stood a second wooden door, which was similarly felled.
Through that entryway lay a furnished parlor with two additional doorways. One led to living quarters and a pantry, where the chattel and their feed were stored. The other led to a landing and a descending staircase, both of stone. Upon the landing stood an imposing male strigoi, wielding a silver-headed morning star, the butt terminating in a serrated axe head. The strigoi’s long, disheveled hair and wide eyes gave him a deranged look; his hands were stained a dirty, mottled brown.
Six soldiers moved to investigate the living quarters and pantry, while five advanced upon the armed defender.
Hyshin spoke challenge. “Where is the captain?”
“Who?” came the response. “All I see are thugs threatening an innocent citizen of the Court.”
“Come now,” said Hyshin. “There is no reason you should suffer. We are here only for Halura.”
The other’s only response was to heft his weapon a bit higher.
“So be it.”
Hyshin motioned the soldiers to advance.
Although the landing could accommodate two strigoi side-by-side, the doorway allowed for only one to pass at a time. Two soldiers, with longswords drawn, approached the lone figure. Uncowed, the defender held his weapon to the ready.
The first soldier struck quickly. The defender blocked the strike, returning the blow. Against an ill-timed thrust, the defender used the shaft of his weapon to push the blade up and leftward, then pivoted and cleaved the axe head into the attacker’s pelvis, opening a ragged gouge and dropping the howling soldier to the stone platform.
Approaching more warily, the second soldier took the place of his companion. Attacker and defender exchanged blows and parries. The latter looked past his opponent to the number of remaining enemies, and he knew he could not long maintain his stand. With a brutal blow, he struck and crushed the hand of his attacker, though he was not able to press his advantage.
At a shouted command in military cant, the wounded soldier lurched to the right side of the landing, clutching his ruined appendage. The defender caught a thrown dagger in his chest. A second dagger followed quickly, embedding inches from the first. The impact from the blades knocked him back several paces and allowed two more attackers through the doorway and onto the landing. He could not hold against the two opponents and soon tumbled down the stone stairs. The two attackers quickly descended after the falling form, stabbing him several times in spite before beheading him.
By the time Hyshin reached the lower landing, his soldiers had proceeded into a large chamber, the source of the strong astringent odor and what appeared to be a slaughterhouse and tannery. The majority of the chamber was occupied by vats filled with variously colored and odoriferous liquids. Trenches carved into the floor led to small apertures in the base of the wall. Human skin in various stages of coriaceous preparation hung from ceiling hooks, and dismembered and excoriated human bodies were piled in one corner.
The soldiers began thrusting swords into the vats and the liquids within. Most contained only soaking skins, but submerged within some were argent weapons wrapped in waterproof sealskin.
When Halura was not found hidden in the vats, the soldiers began searching the walls for a concealed exit. As Hyshin walked the aisles, he noticed one empty vat showed traces of moisture at the bottom and along the interior walls. He rechecked the bottom of the vat, though it was solid wood. He opened the spout at the base of each vat, allowing the liquid to drain into the trenches. Within each, he again checked the bottom. In one, below the now-exposed skins, a small handle was attached.
“Here,” called Hyshin, and the soldiers hastened to his side. Once assembled, he simply nodded to the interior of the vat. One soldier gripped the handle and pulled, though the hatch did not move. Another soldier retrieved the morning star-cum-axe from the slain tanner and hacked the wood to pieces.
A ladder below led to the floor of a tunnel. The soldiers descended, followed by Hyshin. The tunnel was high enough that a strigoi could stand without hunching, though wide enough to allow walking only single file. Its walls were roughly hewn and supported by wooden beams. Although a faint light could be seen some distance down the passage, the tunnel contained no other illumination.
Hyshin moved to the third position among the column of soldiers. From the light, he guessed the tunnel ran essentially straight beneath the village, rather than into the forest.
To the soldier behind him, Hyshin whispered, “Return to the village and instruct the soldiers at the other entrance to enter. We will trap our quarry.”
“Aye,” the soldier acknowledged and ascended the ladder.
The remaining soldiers paused for a three-score count before moving warily down the tunnel. The light drew farther away, like a fleeing will-o’-the-wisp. Suddenly, the light began moving quickly toward them, and Captain Halura, holding a small lantern, became visible. She set the lantern down and drew her swords. In the slight illumination, a contingent of soldiers could be seen approaching from behind.
“Captain, you have nowhere to go,” Hyshin said. “Surrender and save yourself a great deal of pain.”
Without response or hesitation, Halura crouched and plunged the pommels of both of her swords into the dirt, forming an “X” with the blades.
“Stop her!” Hyshin shouted, recalling Yah’l’s final words to him. His voice echoed down the narrow tunnel.
Hyshin and his contingent gave chase, and the lieutenant pushed toward the fore of the column. Halura stood and backed several paces from the crossed swords and unfastened her gorget; the sound of it clattering to the dirt was lost among the racket of shouted orders and drawn weapons. A bowstring twanged from behind her. As he ran, Hyshin unleashed a flurry of daggers toward the embedded swords. Halura, stiffly, began to fall forward. An arrow penetrated her right shoulder, and she crumbled. Hyshin’s daggers impacted Halura’s blades, knocking them flat. The net result was that Captain Halura dropped heavily upon her now-fallen swords.
The silver blades burned her, filling the narrow passage with smoke, the sound of hissing, and the oily smell of burnt flesh. Yet Halura could not lift herself away, as she was set upon by a knot of soldiers. They heaved her from the ground. The blades had melted her skin and still clung to her chest. They bound her hands behind her and fastened a collar with a steel chain around her neck. A soldier ripped the blades from her chest, peeling away strips of flesh and muscle.
Through it all, Halura made no sound other than a pained grunt from the baneful silver. She locked Hyshin with a defiant stare.
The lieutenant met her glare. “Bring her.” Although Halura put up a perfunctory struggle, it was more to annoy her captors than from any hope to escape.
Outside, the rain had not abated. The captive captain was brought before Yah’l, who beheld her with an impassive, appraising look. Yah’l did not bother with wasted threats, and Halura did not trouble with denials or protestations.
The spy marshal nodded his satisfaction. “Well done, Lieutenant. And without the loss of a single soldier.” He turned his gaze to encompass the village before again regarding Hyshin. “This village is guilty of abetting a traitor to the Court. Raze it and all within.” After a moment’s thought, he added, “Though do bring the chattel; there’s no sense in wasting resources.”
Day 15: Light
Countess Sashal returned to her suite within the north tower, kept for those occasions when she visited Castle Ky’lor. She was immediately aware of a round copper token on the corner of her desk, though nothing else appeared to be amiss. Instinctively, she cast her gaze about the room, though she knew no one else was present. She proceeded directly to a tapestry, behind which she removed a stone in the wall. In the space behind the stone, she retrieved a scrap of parchment. She replaced the stone, read the message, then set the note to fire upon a candle flame.
*****
Leaving his office, after recording his observations from another completed vivisection of a human female, Magificer Haluth entered his workroom. He hardly noticed the pervading odors of blood and chemicals. Dried, splattered blood still blotted his skin from the procedure. His thoughts were occupied with the extreme difficulty in discovering any means to decrease the time needed for human gestation. However, his ruminations were interrupted by his remarking a copper token on the corner of a worktable. He proceeded immediately to a side table, removed the cap below one of its legs, and retrieved a slip of parchment from within. He replaced the cap, read the message, then set the note afire.
*****
Halura was in a cell similar to that which had held the decoy of Queen Shayala. She was restrained to the wall by shackles of silver around her wrists, ankles, and throat, filling the small cell with the cloying smell of roasting meat. As she had not been allowed blood, the wounds in her shoulder and chest were slow in healing. The mortared walls of the bare room were stone, and the door was plated in silver, with no interior knob or handle. Two guards stood within, and two without. None noticed the clamminess of the cell.
The guards did not speak to her, nor she to them. Her thoughts kept returning to the torture likely coming. The duke must have known she was incapable of revealing information, so any pain inflicted would simply be gratuitous. Would that she had succeeded in killing herself. She accepted that her life was over and only wished Queen Shayala success in eliminating Munar and his detestable spy marshal. She did regret not being able to witness their demise before she met her own.
The door opened and Duke Munar entered, with Yah’l a step behind. The two approached Halura, stopping a pace before her. From somewhere down the hall, the screams of Kurl reached her ears, as was likely intended by Munar. Although Halura strove to appear stoic and unafraid, Kurl’s punishment, ironically decreed by Queen Shayala, began to fray her resolve.
Neither duke nor spy marshal spoke for some time while studying the prisoner as if appraising a chattel for a meal. To buttress her own courage, Halura determined to taunt the two, though Munar spoke first.
“A pity,” the duke began, “you had neither the courage nor the foresight to end your life before allowing yourself to become trapped.”
“The only pity is that I will not live to see you put down like chattel,” Halura spat.
“No, you will not,” Munar confirmed. “I won’t waste time with threats or promises to kill you quickly, though time is all that is left you. All hope is fled.”
“Do what you will; you know I can tell you nothing,” Halura said, hoping she succeeded in hiding her growing fear behind a façade of bravado.
“Oh, but you can, and you will.” With that, he and Yah’l turned and withdrew from the cell.
The guards closed the door behind them, and Halura could hear the sound of the steel bars being dropped into place. She was left to ponder the meaning of the duke’s parting words.
*****
In Sar-Kyul’s pavilion, Shayala sat on a stool across from Aya, Ryz’k, and the human leader. The second glared at Shayala with undisguised suspicion and contempt.
“Are you unwell?” Sar-Kyul asked, noticing Shayala’s distracted manner. She had not fed in a day and a half and, with the enticing and appetizing smell of the humans, found it increasingly difficult to concentrate.
“I’ll be fine,” Shayala answered in a tone that plainly said she did not care to discuss the matter further.
Shrugging, Sar-Kyul asked Aya, “And you found nothing?”
“Nothing. Not a trace of the monsters.”
Sar-Kyul shook his head as if trying to shake his thoughts free. “Strange, I could have…”
“It’s exceedingly common,” Shayala offered, hoping to keep Sar-Kyul from dwelling upon the mystery of what he had sensed after battling the nosferatu in the pit. “The speed and strength received from the blood are easily mastered. Though the senses require far more time to interpret and understand.”
Uncomfortable with the talk of the monsters’ blood, Ryz’k shifted his hard stare from Shayala to Sar-Kyul. “Your endorsement of her scheme has lessened you in the eyes of the tribe. We must, at the least, expel her.”
“We spoke to the tribe prematurely,” Aya said. “If we gain the support of the other tribes, they will reconsider.”
Ryz’k scoffed. “They understood the madness of it and rightly shouted it down.”
Continuing from Aya’s line of thought, Sar-Kyul said, “The matter has not been put to a vote and, so, remains open. If they listen fairly and still vote against it, then so be it.”
“What would be required to persuade the other tribes?” Shayala asked.
“Each tribe is fiercely independent,” Ryz’k said. “They will not trust any proposed alliance.”
“Most tribes will also put the proposal to a vote,” Aya replied. “In some cases, personal combat against their champion or chieftain will be required.”
“Easily accomplished,” Shayala stated flatly.
Again, Ryz’k scoffed, and Shayala cast him a look suffused of malevolence. He flashed a vicious grin in return. He must be dealt with, she thought. As her hunger grew, she found it increasingly difficult to tolerate this human.
“And they will wish to see a demonstration of the blood,” Aya added.
“I need several days to acquire additional supplies,” Shayala said.
Sar-Kyul nodded, but Ryz’k said, “I wish to meet these contacts.”
Now Shayala scoffed.
Ryz’k addressed Sar-Kyul. “How can we trust them if we do not know them?”
Sar-Kyul considered the question while Shayala contemplated the most satisfying method of killing Ryz’k. Aya sat uncomfortably, sneaking uneasy glances at the two antagonists.
After a pause that seemed much longer than it was, Sar-Kyul said, “What Ryz’k asks is reasonable.”
All eyes were upon her. Although the humans expected a refusal, Shayala’s hunger-fogged mind floundered to find a counterargument.
With a triumphant grin, Ryz’k declared, “Then I shall ride out with Shenla.”
“I’ll dispatch envoys to call a Great Moot,” Aya said.
“One has not been called in a generation,” Ryz’k argued, almost reflexively.
“All the free tribes should be heard,” Aya countered. “If any do not join, then further debate is pointless. We could not hope to prevail.”
Sar-Kyul added, “If we are to follow this course, we cannot approach it halfheartedly. Any indecision or doubt is as dangerous as the monsters themselves.”
“In seven days, then, we will meet upon the sacred knoll,” Aya confirmed.
Throughout the discussion, Shayala thought only of being away; if her hunger caused her to reveal herself, then any other considerations were irrelevant. As soon as the prattle was concluded, she rose and said in a voice that had become even throatier than her usual husky speech, “Then I shall now go.”
Without further explanation, she left the tent, leaving Ryz’k sputtering and hastening to follow.
“I must summon an escort,” Ryz’k called after her, though Shayala continued without acknowledgement. He cursed her and ran in another direction.
Although she moved quickly, Shayala did not run, as she had the presence of mind not to draw attention to herself as she navigated the encampment. Ronth stood sentry along the eastern perimeter and offered a greeting to her as she passed. Shayala mumbled a response and continued into the forest.