The Invisible Ring

Chapter Twenty-two

Krelis stared at the bloody, quivering thing kneeling in front of him. Three days ago, it had been a man. One of his guards.

Now it was missing so many pieces, he couldn’t identify it.

It looked at him without really seeing him and made harsh, pleading sounds. Bloody spittle leaked from one corner of its mouth.

Krelis swallowed hard.

It was better this way. It would have hurt to recognize it enough to be able to call it by name.

Krelis turned away. The blood-streaked white feather that was inserted into the stub of flesh kept moving with each jerky breath, as if it were waving at him.

Or mocking him.

This was why the witches called it the Brotherhood of the Quill.

Dorothea came out of the adjoining room, slowly rolling the handle of a curved, thin-bladed knife between her hands. She spared him one withering glance before going to the table that held the rest of her sharp, bloody toys. She set the knife gently in its place.

“Lord Krelis.”

The way she said his name told him that he’d done nothing but disappoint her lately, and she didn’t expect this report to be any different.

Cold-blooded, malevolent bitch, Krelis thought fiercely.

A moment after the thought formed, marrow-freezing fear swept through him.

He hadn’t meant it, would never think it again. She was the answer to everything he wanted, the answer to centuries of work and sweat. As her Master of the Guard, he was one of the most powerful men in Hayll. Respected. Feared.

He turned that thought over and over. He’d worked hard to gain enough status to keep the fear at bay. Now he was in the position of being feared.

Krelis felt some of the tension ease.

Now he was one of the males the witches couldn’t strike against, couldn’t Ring. Unless they, too, served in Dorothea’s court, they had no safety from him.

He smiled. His smile widened when he caught Dorothea’s sudden, arrested look.

“There’s something you wish to say to me, Krelis?”

Her voice had gone a little breathy, like a woman at the beginning of arousal.

“I’ve found them, Priestess,” Krelis said. “They’ve gone to ground in a Shalador village called Ranon’s Wood.”

“All of them?”

Krelis clenched his teeth. “The Shalador bastard disappeared with the little bitch-Queen, but they’re supposed to meet the others there.”

Selecting a short-bladed knife, Dorothea glided over to one of the large, potted, flowering bushes that sat near her playroom windows and cut off two overblown yellow flowers. “There’s no reason to assume he’ll take her to that village. He could just as easily take her to Dena Nehele and claim whatever rewards he can for his brave service,” she added with a sneer.

Krelis had thought of that, had sweated over that. It pleased him that he'd worked out an answer he felt sure would suit her. ”Ranon’s Wood is his home village. It had been softened this spring when the new Shalador Queens wisely decided to bring the Territory into Hayll’s shadow. He’ll find little help there, whereas we’ll have an entire village of hostages.“

“Tell me more,” Dorothea purred as she cut the flower stems until they were barely an inch long.

“We’ll offer a trade. His village for the little bitch Queen. If she’s turned over to us, we’ll let everyone else go.”

Dorothea looked up from her stem trimming. “Will we?”

Krelis smiled, feeling more sure of himself than he’d felt in days. “No, Priestess. The useful ones will be taken as slaves. The rest will be eliminated.”

“All well and good if the bitch is there.”

“We’ll also have the slaves she bought at Raej. They must have some bargaining value for her to be so determined to get them to Dena Nehele. There’s no reason Hayll can’t bargain more keenly and get further concessions from the Queens or aristo families in the slaves’ Territories.” He wanted to laugh. His pet could tell his fellow travelers a good many things about being part of a bargain with Hayll. “If she’s not there, we can demand a trade— the slaves for the bitch-Queen. Some of them aren’t worth much, true, but if the children are aristo, their families are going to think hard about believing any promises the Gray Lady makes if she doesn’t trade her kin for theirs since it was her buying them that put them in this danger. And the Shalador Warlord isn’t willingly going to sacrifice his family for a witch he’s only known for a short time.”

Walking up to the quivering thing, Dorothea tucked the flowers into the holes where its ears had been. “What are your plans?”

“I’ll take a thousand Hayllian guards to Ranon’s Wood and—”

“So many?” Annoyance crept back into Dorothea’s voice. “Surely there can’t be that many Jeweled Blood left in that privy hole of a village. You’ll have the courts thinking the Gray Lady’s an enemy to be respected, even feared, if you need that many Hayllian warriors to subdue the little bitch who serves her.”

Did she want them to fail? Krelis wondered. Why deny a fierce enemy when the denial fooled no one? Taking that many men was a sound fighting decision.

He hesitated, almost tempted to explain this to Dorothea. Instead he said, “It’s not unusual for guards to be called from various stations throughout a Territory to participate in a specific training exercise or a special assignment. The Masters of the Guard in the minor courts won’t give it a second thought. And the guards themselves won’t think past having an opportunity to be observed by the Masters in the stronger courts in the hopes of being offered a contract. There’s no reason they have to know this isn’t a chance for them to show off their skills. And there won’t be anyone else to say differently.”

Dorothea began her slow, hip-swaying pacing. “How long?”

Krelis swallowed carefully, keeping his eyes away from the thing. “A couple of days, Priestess, before I’ll be able to hand the Gray Lady’s bitch into your keeping.”

“A couple of days,” Dorothea murmured.

He caught a flash of amusement in her eyes. He held his breath and waited. By tomorrow evening, his cousin or the young Warlord whose training he’d been overseeing would look like that quivering thing. His pet’s information had come two days too late, which was something Krelis wasn’t going to forget when he got to Ranon’s Wood.

“A couple of days,” Dorothea murmured again. Pausing at the table, she selected a knife and looked at the quivering thing.

It whimpered. Tried to shift its position.

Dorothea put the knife down and approached Krelis. “This has been a difficult time for you, hasn’t it, darling?” she said as she stroked his cheek. “And I do understand how wearing it can be when a person’s concentration is split between business and family. Since you’ve obviously taken my incentives to heart, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. Your cousin and protégé will remain confined but untouched. We’ll discuss their future upon your return.”

Krelis turned his face just enough to kiss her palm. “Thank you, Priestess.” When she lifted her hand, he stepped back and bowed low. “If you’ll excuse me, there’s a great deal to do.”

“Of course.”

He took a step toward the door. Stopped. Turned back. Cutting off his ability to feel anything, he carefully studied the thing that had been a man.

Dorothea eyed him curiously. “Is there a problem. Lord Krelis?”

Krelis’s lips curved in a small smile. “My pet has not fulfilled his duties satisfactorily and will, I fear, require discipline.”

Dorothea’s eyes filled with glittering pleasure. “Yes, fear is always a useful tool. Something your predecessor didn’t understand.”

Krelis almost reached the door when she added quietly, “But then, he was an honorable man.”