XVI
LORD OF CARRION
‘THE GREAT HALL was emptying as Aaron and I rushed from the chapel. The merrymakers, the minstrels, young and old – all were making their way through the torchlit dark to the château gates. I saw Baptiste among the throng, and Aaron and I pushed our way to his side. Men and women were gathering arms, the bells still ringing on the outer walls, a great multitude now trekking down the winding road to the mont’s base. I looked for Dior among them, even calling her name, but I couldn’t see her anywhere. ‘We reached the outer walls of Aveléne, and I followed Aaron up onto the battlements. The bells ceased their ringing as he and Baptiste arrived. Watchmen saluted the pair briskly, nodding, “Capitaine.” I could see their loyalty to Aaron was fierce and true, that they loved him to a man, no matter who he loved in his turn. But I could also feel a sliver of fear among them. And squinting through the bitter-bleak snows to the edge of the torchlight off Aveléne’s walls, I could find no way to fault them. ‘The Beast of Vellene stood in the road. He was clothed all in black, his duellist’s cloak whipping about him in a wind that seemed to moan all the louder as it touched him. His eyes were darker than the night above, his skin so pale it gleamed like pearl. Any who looked on him, prince or pauper or poet, would know him for what he was: a lord of carrion, heavy with centuries, crowned with menace and malice. And the sight of him cleaved all but the boldest heart with despair. ‘Danton stepped forward, his flint-black gaze roaming the walls. Men quailed as he looked upon them, women trembled, the chill of him like a knife in their minds. His eyes fell on me, and a smile, cold and pale and sharp, curled his ruby lips. ‘“Where be the lord of this … hovel?” he asked. “I would treat with him.” ‘Aaron stepped forward, golden hair blowing in the wind. “I am he.” ‘Danton’s gaze fell on my friend, and I saw Aaron grit his teeth, fangs bared. I
‘Danton’s gaze fell on my friend, and I saw Aaron grit his teeth, fangs bared. I felt the air crackling between them; a battle of wills, ancien versus paleblood born. And at the last, I saw Danton’s smile grow sour. ‘“Who art thou, mortal?” ‘Aaron took off his glove, held up the sevenstar on his palm, now burning with a pale and fierce light. “A mortal, oui,” he answered. “But no mortal’s son.
My name is Aaron de Coste, son of House Coste and the Blood Ilon, and my mind is not yours for the plundering. I have been slaying your kind since I was but a boy, and I am a boy no longer. Now speak your piece and be done, vampire. My dinner is getting cold.” ‘“De Coste?” Danton gave a small bow. “Well met, monsieur. ’Tis rare to find folk of breeding so far west these nights. Please accept my condolences upon the fall of thy home, thy famille, thy legacy entire.” ‘“This is my famille,” Aaron said, waving to folk on the walls. “And my home. You come to its gate with empty hands and liar’s tongue. What do you
want, Voss?” ‘“Dior Lachance.” ‘“Then I fear you’ve come a long way for a longer wait.” Aaron placed one hand on the hilt of his sword. “Like all within these walls, the girl is under my protection.” ‘“Girl?” Realization dawned, and a flicker of dark delight glittered in Danton’s eyes as he glanced at me. “Oh, de León, thou art not destined to lose an —” ‘“Speak not to him,” Aaron spat. “You treat with me. If you call this display
of beggary treating, that is.” ‘“Beggar thou wouldst name me?” ‘“Beggar?” Aaron shook his head. “No. Louse, I name you. Worm. Leech. A parasite, grown fat and foolish enough to stand alone before my walls and beg anything of me. I was there at the Twins the day your sister died, Voss. I heard the music of her screams. And I’ve a will now, to see if I can make you sing as sweet.” ‘Aaron drew his sword – that same beautiful silversteel blade he’d carried through his apprenticeship in San Michon, the Angel Mahné on the hilt, blessed scripture down the blade. Beside him, Baptiste hefted his silversteel warhammer, and all around him, the men and women of Aveléne drew steel, set arrow to torch, raised wheellock guns. ‘“Be off, maggot,” Aaron growled. “Afore I set my dogs on you.” ‘Danton smiled, bleak and empty. ‘“Call thy dogs,” he said. “They can feast upon thy corpses.” ‘The dark behind Danton moved, and I felt my belly turn. I saw them
‘The dark behind Danton moved, and I felt my belly turn. I saw them coalescing from the snows behind the Beast, like darker shadows in his wake.
Cold skin and colder hearts. Faces white as bone and beautiful as a dreamless sleep, clothed in all night’s raiment. Their eyes were keen and merciless, and they wore fear like cloaks, the terror of them washing over the walls in a fog. A tall, dead-eyed brute. A slender woman with wheat-gold hair and blood-red eyes.
A boy, not more than ten when he died. Near a dozen in total, called by the Beast from across the Nordlund no doubt – children, grandchildren, cousins.
Ironhearts, all. ‘“Highbloods,” Baptiste breathed. ‘Behind them came a rabble. Rotten and hollow-eyed. A multitude of wretched, slaved to the highbloods’ will. More than I’d seen since my days of silver. There were soldiers among them, clad in the Emperor’s colours – the remnants of cadres and cohorts slain in the wars. But there were plain folk too, men and women, children and elders, all dragged away from the bright shores of
heaven and back to this hell on earth.
‘Hundreds upon hundreds of them. ‘“Such a force …” someone whispered. ‘Danton stood now in the falling snows, his dark majesty unveiled. He seemed to swell in stature; once a single shadow at the edge of the torchlight, now the vanguard of a darkness set to swallow that light whole. His gaze roamed the walls, slow, piercing, those men and women who had but a moment ago stood fierce and tall as their capitaine roared like a lion. But now, as those eyes fell upon them, as the dark mind behind them pierced their own, every one quavered at the horror of him. ‘“I see thee all. I know thy hearts. I know thy sins.” Danton’s eyes drifted back to Aaron, glittering and hard. “But more, I know thy strength. There is no preparation beyond those walls now hidden from me. If thou wouldst stand against me, Aaron de Coste, thou shalt fall. As the city of thy forebears did. As thy once-noble line did. And for the vengeance of my sister beloved, I shall mete like suffering from thee. I shall slay thy flock, one and all. I shall make their children watch as I feed them to the teeth behind me. I shall make castrati of their sons, I shall gut their parents like hogs, I shall build mountains of their babies’ bones. But their daughters …” ‘He looked to the wall once more, to the folk who stood shivering in his chill.
‘“Them, I shall loose into the snow and the dark. One by one. And when I find them, each agony they endure shall upon thy heads be. I shall make thy daughters bleed, Aveléne. I shall gift them a suffering from which God and angels shall avert their gaze. Or …” ‘The shadow around Danton diminished, his smile returned, sly and red. ‘“Or, thou canst give me what I seek. One little girl seems not so small a price? One tiny life, for the life of every man, woman, and child beyond those walls? For in the end, what is Dior Lachance to thee, Aveléne? Save a noose about thy neck, tightening?” ‘I heard a commotion, a murmuring along the battlements. And looking behind us, down to the cobbles below, I saw Dior now standing in the street. The stares of the city’s folk were fixed upon her, pale and slender, all alone among them. But she stood with eyes on the gates, listening to the voice beyond. ‘“I feel thee!” Danton roared out in the dark. “I feel thee in their minds, girl!
Shall their lives pay the forfeit of thy courage? Shall their blood stain thy hands like thy Saoirse? Thy Bellamy? Thy Rafa? I shall take thee anyway, girl! I am a Prince of Forever, and forever shall I hunt thee! Ask thy dear Gabriel what in the end that means!” ‘I drew Ashdrinker from her sheath, roaring into the wind. ‘“You don’t get to bleat about courage and threaten children in the same breath, coward! And you set one foot inside this city, I’ll teach you how short forever can be!” ‘Danton looked along the walls, shaking his head sadly. ‘“Oh, de León. I will not need to set foot in there at all.” ‘He raised his voice, calling over the clawing wind. ‘“One night I gift thee, Aveléne! Let it not be said Danton Voss is without mercy. Amorrow shall I return with all hell’s fury in my wake! If thou wouldst still deny me my prize, I shall make red slaughter of thee all! And those who rise thereafter? Dogs shalt thou be! Fed only the dregs of carcasses long rotten, lower than worms, for all eternity!” ‘He looked to me, black eyes like yawning pits in his skull. ‘“For now, behold what becomes of those who defy me.” ‘One of the highbloods came forth – the tall Nordlund brute with thick dark hair, carrying a figure over his shoulder. It was wrapped in homespun cloth, bound in chains, bloodstained and filthy. I knew who it was before the sackcloth was torn from his face, before his body was thrown into the snow, still wrapped in irons, tongue blackened and long fangs glinting as he opened his rotten mouth and moaned.
‘“Rafa …” I whispered. ‘The old priest lay in the grey, gabbling nonsense as Danton pressed his boot to the back of his head and forced it down into the snow. “In one night shall I return, Aveléne. Consider carefully, if thou wouldst live to see nights thereafter.” ‘He stepped back, back into the shadows at the torchlight’s shivering edge.
The dark seemed to swell, reaching out and swallowing him whole. The highbloods slunk back after him, hungry eyes fixed upon the walls. I heard the multitude of wretched retreating with their masters, leaving only one behind, wrapped in chains, staring up with soulless eyes at the folk on the walls and
screaming in mindless hunger. ‘“Oh, God …” ‘I turned and saw Dior behind me, looking with horror at the fallen priest. ‘“Oh, Rafa …” ‘The old man howled, thrashing against the chains they’d wrapped him in. It had been a day or two before he Became, by the look of him – the intellect, the wit, the will, gone the way of all flesh. Only the hunger remained now. The hunger and the hate, shining in his gaze as it roamed the walls, falling at last on Dior and me. He roared again, too weak and starving to break his bonds. But I knew, and she knew it, too – if there were no chains or steel or walls between us, he’d drink us both to dying. ‘“We can’t leave him like that,” Dior whispered. ‘She looked down to the old man, twisting and howling in the snow. Tears shone on her cheeks as she turned to me, a silent plea in her eyes. And unable to stand it any longer, I snatched a bow from the watchman beside me, lit one of his tallow arrows in the brazier, drew the string back to my lips. Poor Rafa looked to me, and beyond the madness and murder in his eyes, I like to think that whatever was left of him inside might have nodded, might have begged me, do it, do it. ‘“Better to be a bastard than a fool,” I whispered. ‘The arrow flew true. The flames spread on those bloodstained robes, the undying flesh beyond. I gave the bow back to its owner, took Dior’s hand to draw her away from the sight. But she forced herself to stay, to watch, to breathe the smoke and bear witness to Rafa’s end. And when it was over, when naught but ashes remained, she looked to the folk around her. Every man and woman on those walls, gazing now to her, weighing her in their minds. They knew nothing of what she was, what she could be, only that she and I had brought this peril to their door. ‘Aaron caught my eye, glanced back up the hill. ‘“Perhaps you two had best await us in the keep, brother.” ‘I nodded. “Come along, Dior.” ‘She looked at me as I squeezed her hand, tears for poor Rafa shining in her
‘She looked at me as I squeezed her hand, tears for poor Rafa shining in her eyes. And together, we walked through the murmuring crowd, back up to that old château and whatever safety now lay within. Behind us, the priest’s remains smouldered in the snow, the smoke rising slow towards the sky. But, as always, heaven was silent. ‘And beyond the scent of char and ashes, I caught it then. ‘Just a whisper on the wind that set my heart racing.
‘The scent of death. ‘Death and silverbell.’
