Blood War (Page 48)

"Maybe three hundred or so," Erland offered one of his best, heart-stopping smiles.

"Impressive," Rigo nodded respectfully to Erland. "And many from the highest echelons. Such a shame. Shall we pay a visit to Satris of Twylec, who languishes in his dungeon cell?"

"I will come as well," Aryn walked over. He’d heard the exchange between Rigo and Erland. He had no qualms about getting involved with this.

"We’ll let you place compulsion," Erland grinned and folded them to the dungeon.

* * *

"What are you doing?" Satris of Twylec stood quickly. Three had appeared inside his cell as if by magic.

"Just wanted to offer a pat on the back for convincing your cousin, Queen Tamaritha, that your sorry skin is worth saving," Erland smiled. "Rigo." Erland turned to the ancient vampire.

"This won’t hurt—but it may sting a little," Rigo tapped Satris’ neck with the small needle he held.

"What in the name of the light was that?" Satris barely felt the prick but he rubbed the side of his neck anyway.

"Your death," Rigo’s voice was even and practical. "And from now on, you’ll believe you never saw us and that a spider bit you on the journey homeward."

Satris blinked in confusion as all three men disappeared as quickly as they’d appeared in the beginning.

* * *

"So, not only do I have to go to the Conclave, we have to let Satris go because he’s related to the Queen of Twylec?" My head hurt. Gavin, Tony, Drake and Drew had come to give me unwelcome news.

"That pretty much sums it up," Tony agreed. "But that’s only one of them. You still have the other two, plus Geratt." I was aware of that—the trials were scheduled for the following day.

"When are we shipping him off?" I asked.

"Today. He should be at the spaceport now."

"I trust he’s been cautioned not to cause additional trouble until he gets to Twylec?"

"Oh, no worries," Tony replied. I looked at Gavin, who merely shrugged.

"We have interviews this afternoon, for assassins," Tony reminded me. That was something I didn’t particularly want to be reminded of. I’d been an idealistic fool—thinking there would never be a reason to execute anyone on Le-Ath Veronis. Trevor had come to take heads from the ones who’d sided with the rogues inside my Council chambers, but he only did it as a favor to me. He preferred what he was doing now—working as Sheriff of Casino City.

Jeral came in and sat with Flavio, Kifirin, Aurelius, Garde, Aryn and me as we brought in the applicants for the two assassin/executioner positions. Of those we interviewed, one was from Beliphar, Jeral’s homeworld, and I liked him very much. My goal was to find two like Gavin and Trevor. Trevor was tired of taking heads. I could understand that. Gavin wouldn’t even consider it—he was done with that part of his life.

Aryn was a King Vampire. I wondered if he even knew it. His compulsions were nearly as effective as anything Merrill could do and he employed that talent during the interviews. We had two assassins before the afternoon was over, too. Garde and Aurelius asked most of the questions, with Flavio and Aryn chiming in from time to time. We wanted to make sure the vampires didn’t want to kill merely for the sake of killing—that they would be swift and merciful when the heads were taken.

Kifirin gave final approval on both, and they were in accord with my choices. Learand from Beliphar and Dawes from Tulgalan were selected. They were assigned rooms at the palace—suites above the dungeons, actually—and a salary was established for both, plus other benefits and privileges. "Learand was a very good choice," Jeral told me later over a cup of tea in the kitchen.

"I think so, too, Uncle," I said, giving him a smile. It hadn’t been long since Davan died, and it was difficult working with Grant and Heathe—all three of us moped around my study at times.

"I think that is the first time you’ve called me that," he smiled back at me.

"I’m only saying it because I mean it," I told him.

"I never thought to have a niece, or any family member," he replied. "And the opportunity to have tea with my niece is even more gratifying."

"I was hoping I’d find you together," Conner appeared beside us. I hadn’t seen Conner for a while. I saw Russell, Will, Martin and Lynx often, but not Conner, even though Connegar was her son. She was tastefully dressed, as always, and her long blonde hair was pulled back and clipped. Conner always looked as if she belonged on the pages of a magazine, she was so careful about her appearance. Russell, Will and Martin doted on her. Lynx was very protective and Graegar, well, he and Barrigar loved her more than anything.

"Lady," Jeral dipped his head to the Guardian. Conner gave me a hug.

"I have a message for Jeral, Grant, Heathe and you," she informed me. Conner escorted souls to the other side at times, and she was asked to deliver messages by those souls, now and then. I never thought to be on the receiving end of one, however.

"Grant and Heathe are in my study," I said. Conner’s appearance meant Davan had left a message for us. I wanted to cry.

"We’ll go to your study, then," Conner agreed. We walked—I wasn’t in a hurry to hear this—it was tears waiting to come. Jeral placed an arm about my shoulders as we walked. I looked up at my uncle—he resembled his mother, Narissa, and my nieces, with darker hair and gold-flecked eyes. I didn’t see much of Griffin in his face, but then Wylend Arden hadn’t been his father.

"Grant, Heathe, this is Conner," I introduced her when we walked into my study. My two remaining assistants were going through stacks of mail. Today was the day for that, this week. Conner was good—I’ll give her that. She got us seated and comfortable before explaining to Grant and Heathe what she was and what she could do. They were shocked, I think, and shocking vampires is pretty tough to do, most of the time.

The message presented was a three-dimensional image, almost, much like a video or a live presentation, as Conner played the memory back to us when she’d taken Davan to the gate.

He was there, looking happy. I didn’t expect that—he was happy. "I want you to take a message to my friends," he said. I wanted to weep at the sound of his voice. Jeral grasped my hand in his. "I want you to tell them what I see," Davan said. "I see a beautiful meadow in bright sunlight, with flowers everywhere. People are here, waiting for me. I know them. All of them, somehow, even though we haven’t met. I feel happy and I can’t explain it. Tell my brother Jeral that I don’t regret what he did for me. Tell Heathe and Grant that I never thought to find such good friends. Tell them I love them. Tell Lissa that she shines like the sun, even in my memory of her. Nothing is forever, except the soul and love. Tell Lissa that for me." He turned away, then, fading into something we couldn’t see.