Serpent's Quest

Malthus smiled as Nikko led them into the yard around the Chieftain Claw Redhand's home, which was the nearest building to the bridge, and sucked in a breath of relief. He was in. Soon he could begin to sniff around for what had happened to Troyes, his nieces' father. So far as he had been able to learn, this was the last place Troyes had been seen.

Tomyrilen Dovane de Waejonan had appeared suddenly out of nowhere, claiming to be the illegitimate daughter of the dead prince Shintar de Waejonan, and half-sister to the late King Baaltrystan. Nobles and commoners alike were rising to follow her standard. The rebellion had made reaching this valley difficult, but Malthus had made a deal with the young queen's first advisor, Lord Daemon. He had been allowed to slip through in exchange for becoming Daemon's agent here. The valley would fall and Malthus would be well paid in gold, land, and slaves.

Malthus was a bounty hunter with a reputation for subtlety and resourcefulness � and sa'necari by birth. His father had been nobly born, but Malthus came from the wrong side of the blankets. He would have inherited nothing, even had his father's estates not been burned by the Sharani. Five siblings on both sides of the blankets had been burned alive by the Sharani. Knowing the swift way that sa'necari fertility faded, his father had gotten as many children as he could in his youth. Yet, even so, only Malthus and these two little girls were left. Unless Troyes was still alive somewhere. He would let this play out to his advantage; once he decided what that advantage was and who it lay with.

They followed Nikko past a large manor house with elaborate gardens surrounding the back and east side. A large barn and stables swept out to the west side of it. The simple practicality of water troughs and hitching posts in the courtyard contrasted sharply with elegance behind it. Blue veins shot through the chinked pale yellow stone of the manor house.

Nikko pointed at it. "That is the chieftain's house, Claw Redhand."

Malthus nodded, his trained eyes swept the grounds. The three-story structure wasn't as large as some sa'necari manors, but he estimated that it must have at least sixteen bedrooms in the main part and an equal number in the servants' wing. Lycans did not build their homes for defense. They counted on stopping invaders before they reached the houses and generally they were alerted by the packs of true wolves that freely ran their valleys, which were defensible areas in and of themselves. Those wild packs would need to be located and destroyed early.

"How far have you traveled?" Nikko asked.

"Too far," Malthus replied. "Two months ago I was in Ildyrsetts."

"I have never been there. It is down along the coast?"

"Yes. A little over two weeks ago, I was in Dragonton near Torment Lake." Malthus rubbed his pen quill thin mustache, pulling at the curving ends a moment. He had more facial hair than most sa'necari because of his inheritance from his human mother, which required daily shaving with the elegant folding razor in his pocket to keep neat. Malthus used it to cut throats as well as to shave. He had picked it up in Timbren while working for one of the wealthiest bounty hunters in the business, Necrodez. There were rumors that Necrodez had finally met his match near Ildyrsetts last winter, but Malthus would have to see it to believe it.

Nikko nodded thoughtfully. "I hear there has been violence there."

"Not all of the old nobility wanted to accept the new queen. They met in Dragonton to discuss what actions to take. The queen swept down upon them…" Malthus let his voice trail away and made a cutting motion across his throat with his finger. "My family was among them."

Malthus studied Nikko. The mon seemed much too young for his position, no more than seventeen, or eighteen. Lawgivers were chosen by the location of the stars at their birth or other omens and reared for the job, serving the elder lawgiver. Malthus wondered what had happened to the old one, Nevin Scarface. Well it worked to his advantage to have such an inexperienced lawgiver to deal with. Now, if only he could be so lucky with the Willodarian priest.

They walked farther and entered the village proper. By that time Ros and Lyrri were stumbling with exhaustion. Malthus lifted Lyrri into his arms. Seeing the way Ros was faltering also, Nikko picked her up with a glance at Malthus who nodded his permission.

"I am sorry that it is so far," Nikko said. "We built the sanctuary in the protected area on the northeast side."

"I can understand that. It is a logical way to protect those less able to protect themselves." And a good way to isolate people until you decide whether you can trust them. Canny wolves.

The rustic village contained mostly the traditional longhouses of variegated stone, with newer frame houses sprinkled through, painted in the forest colors beloved of the lycans. A single main street traversed the village, which was almost large enough to be called a small town, with numerous residential side streets. They passed a large assortment of shops and establishments, including two eateries, a couple of taverns, a dry goods, a tanner's, and toward the end a blacksmith and a harness-maker. The majority of lycans were no more than semi-literate, hence the graphics on the signs over every place of business. Where human villages tended to be dirty, with streets of dead brown, packed down earth � the lycan main street was thick with trees of all kinds and grass growing in a wide swath down the middle. Trees shaded the fronts and sides of every building, with tree rounds and benches for sitting scattered through with comfortable abandon. The lycans were fond of sitting outside and gabbing with whoever happened by. People stopped to nod at them and acknowledge the lawgiver in a mix of politeness and curiosity as they sized up the newcomers.

Malthus gave them his most humble expression salted with suitable anxiety as if uncertain of his welcome. The two pretty little girls were his key to opening doors and hearts, and he would see that they played it very well. He patted Lyrri's back, slid into her mind, and sent her to sleep. Over the course of their journey, he had placed coercions, sways, and triggers in their minds as deeply as possible. "She's exhausted. We all are. Is it much farther?"

"Only a little. Poor little thing," Nikko said. "We'll have you a place to sleep and food in no time."

The sanctuary proved to be mostly a cluster of woven cone-shaped sheelings that required dropping to your knees before crawling inside. Smoke rose from ventilation holes in the roofs of the sheelings. A long house built of stone stood at the center with a chimney in the middle of its roof. Several smaller buildings of wood stood half finished. A short distance away three more stone houses were being raised as permanent shelters. Tree rounds and crude benches provided seats beneath the trees, as did the scattered small boulders.

As well as others that were still being constructed by the refugees along with volunteers from among the lycans. Most of the volunteers were teenagers, yet they moved to their tasks capably and without hesitation. All lycans were reared to a trade as soon as they could walk.

A plump, middle-aged lycan wearing a shapeless, dark blue dress stood on the green in front of the long stone house. Nikko walked up to her. "Beth, I have more folks for you to care for. This is Malthus. The girls are Lyrri and Ros. They're sa'necari born, but their uncle isn't. Their family was wiped out in the rebellion."

Beth quirked an eyebrow at that. "We're getting a few of those. Come inside." She gestured at the longhouse.

Malthus said nothing when he saw her nostrils flare and she sniffed him in passing. Lycans did not consider it rude to check newcomers out with their noses. He knew that she was confirming his claim to be human. She would not find anything. Malthus used an embedded spell on the ring he wore to mask his nature, scent and sa'necari eyes. They could spellcord him, yet his eyes and scent would still be hidden. The ring had been a gift from Lord Daemon, who appeared to have an unusually substantial horde of early sa'necari artifacts.

The longhouse had a dirt floor and a deep fire pit in the center, around which several children lay sleeping. A room at either end was separated from the rest of the building by a half wall that had a curtained door and window built into the slat panels. Weathered gray wooden frames were built into the windows to the outside to hold the shutters that they closed on cooler nights.

Beth grabbed some bowls off a shelf and knelt by the pit. A huge kettle hung above the pit, suspended on two iron posts with a rod across them. She dipped up a hearty stew of lentils, lamb, and vegetables.

Malthus woke Lyrri as he knelt and set her on the ground. Nikko placed Ros by her sister near the fire pit.

"I'll return tomorrow and check on how you're doing," Nikko said. He left as Beth began handing bowls around to Malthus and his nieces.

Beth had a sweet, apple-cheeked face and a pleasant manner. She beamed at the girls as they ate hungrily. "Have they been blooded yet?"

Malthus gave her a startled grin. "That's some years off. Female sa'necari get their fangs with their menses, or so that side of my family told me."

Beth glanced at his wrists as if looking for spellcord, leaned in, and sniffed him again. "You're human."

"I'm afraid so."

Beth sniffed Ros and Lyrri. "Sa'necari. How is it you're not?"

Malthus had expected to be interrogated. The lycans were cautious about outsiders. Odds were that Beth might prove to be a bit of a gossip and that could work to his favor. He gave her a straight look with just an edge of concern. "My mother was human. One of my father's numerous mistresses. I was born in Dragonton near Torment Lake."

Beth brightened. "I know the area. I have cousins up there. City wolves, but nice folk."

Mixing lies with his truths, Malthus described a bit of his youth growing up along the lake where their sa'necari overlords had once held most of their rites since the days of Waejonan. His last name was not Estrobian, but he had known the Estrobians well, having grown up with Volosarius Estrobian, the mon who introduced him to Necrodez, his last teacher.

Beth warmed to him steadily.

"I never met any of the Estrobians when I visited my cousins, but I heard of them," Beth said. "Fancy folk."

"Aren't all sa'necari in this land?"

Beth chuckled. "Not the ones working the sanctuary. We got them spellcorded, sealed, and doing chores."

Shivers ran through Malthus at the thought of being spellcorded. "You have adult sa'necari here?"

"Yup. Five women. Only way we'd let them accompany their children across the bridge."

Malthus swallowed back his reaction to that news and changed the subject. "Where will we sleep for the night? I would like to get the girls settled soon."

"Here for the moment. I'll get you some mats and blankets. Tomorrow one of the women should be moving into a new house with her children. It's there near enough finished. Then you can have their sheeling for the time being, until you can get a house up."

GODWAR CENTRAL

Serpent's Quest