Maiden's Wolf (In Deception's Shadow Book 3) (21 page)

It was close to
the midday meal and much of the market’s traffic had already thinned. Beatrice
eyed the few remaining pelts. Once they were gone, they would have to pack up
and leave or draw unwanted attention. Beatrice was handing the second to last
of Silverblade’s carvings to a wool merchant when a soldier came up behind him.

Once the wool
merchant hurried off with his purchase, the soldier stepped forward and eyed
the lone carving still on the table.

“You’re the one
that sold the horse carving to Captain Nurrowford this morning?”

“Yes.”
Silverblade nodded politely in acknowledgement.

“My general
happened to see it and commented on the skill. His wife’s name day is
approaching, and he wants one done for her. If you will come with me, it will
be worth your time.”

The soldier
delivered the line with the bored indifference of someone who expected instant
compliance. Silverblade was quick to agree. Together, he and Beatrice packed up
their few remaining items in an efficient fashion, and then followed after the
soldier.

It didn’t slip
past Beatrice’s notice that the soldier took them down little-used side routes,
footpaths, and alleys. Before she knew it, they had come upon the back entrance
of the great Stonemantle residence.

Once they were
inside, he continued to lead them down seldom-traversed hallways. Beatrice told
herself it was a good sign that the general wanted to keep their arrival a
secret. If the general served the acolytes, she doubted they would have cared
if anyone noticed her and Silverblade’s arrival or not.

A glimmer of hope
kindled in her heart. They may just make a success of this mission after all.
If they could get General Stonemantle and the garrison on their side, it would
limit the casualties when it was time to eliminate the acolytes from River’s
Divide.

For her part,
Beatrice kept her eyes downcast, trying to appear cowed and uncomfortable in
her present environment. But in fact, she was seeing with more than her
eyes—her other senses sharpened, her magic studying the area around her. So
far, she sensed no acolytes in the immediate vicinity.

After traveling
down a few more remote corridors and up several flights of back stairs, where
they only saw the occasional servant, she and Silverblade—in the company of the
nameless soldier—arrived at a large, wooden door. A dozen soldiers guarded the
hall and set her pulse to pounding.

Inside she sensed
more soldiers, but no acolytes. At least that was one bit of good news.

The second piece
of good news came in the fact that she sensed no corruption upon any of the
soldiers here.

When the soldier
who had led them here opened the door and ushered them inside, Silverblade took
the lead—protecting her, she realized with a bit of annoyance. Had they been
about to walk into a room full of acolytes, which her magic told her they were
not, she would have been the one best-suited for dealing with them.

But that was an
argument that would have to wait for later.

Once they stepped
inside the room, the door closed behind them with a soft click. A man sat at a
large, oak desk. He looked up at their arrival and then back at the letter
Captain Nurrowford had given him. After a moment, he stood slowly. The other
soldiers in the room, seven by her count, stood a little straighter. If that was
possible. They were already standing at attention with their weapons at the
ready.

“Who are you? And
where are my daughters?” General Stonemantle’s words were not a question, they
were a demand.

Silverblade
glanced over at Beatrice, and she caught his barely discernible nod. It was the
signal to fish out the second set of letters from the pocket in her skirt.

At Beatrice’s
sudden movement, the guards standing around the room leveled crossbows at her.
She froze with her hand in her pocket, her fingers touching the letter, but she
dared not move. Her death magic was fast, but she didn’t know if it could
strike fast enough to save her life this time.

“I have a good
idea what you are and I know what the Elementals are capable of. My occupation
has granted me details that will haunt my nightmares for years to come, so I
know how powerful your kind is. But I do not care. If you do not tell me where
my daughters are, I will see how dangerous you are with crossbow bolts lodged
in your skull.

“Well,
considering that I am a human, how about I just give you the letter that
Ashayna gave me?” Beatrice jerked her chin down, indicating the hand in her
pocket. “The letter is in my skirt. May I remove it without getting a bunch of
crossbow bolts to the skull?”

“Proceed.” General
Stonemantle narrowed his eyes, his frown deepening, but he seemed logical and
reasoning.

Beatrice removed
the letter and then held her hands before her—palms up, to show that she was
without other weapons—the letter balanced in her open hand. She reached forward
slowly and placed the letter for General Stonemantle on the table. That done,
she eased back to stand beside Silverblade. She held her arms away from her
sides the whole time.

The guards
relaxed marginally when General Stonemantle cracked the seal on the letter and
began to read. Ashayna had written a lengthy letter, conveying everything they
knew of the acolytes and the dark master they served. Beatrice only hoped his
eldest daughter’s words were enough to convince the general that the acolytes were
a threat that needed to be dealt with quickly.

After long
moments of disquiet and uncertainty, the general finally set down the letter.
He studied Beatrice and then Silverblade, his eyes sliding back to her. “So you
say you are human. I remember my youngest mentioning a peasant girl who lived
in the forest. Beatrice, is it?”

She nodded,
surprised he knew her name.

“But somehow, I
doubt very much that you are human.” The general turned his attention back to
Silverblade. “I’ll ask again, who and what are you?”

With a somewhat
unhappy sigh, Silverblade realized he couldn’t maintain his disguise and gain
General Stonemantle’s trust at the same time.

“I’m a lupwyn
scout by the name of Silverblade. I was tasked with infiltrating the human
lands to study and watch. And more importantly, to see if you are a threat to
the lupwyn nation. I had just concluded that humans were indeed not the threat
we’d first thought, and then I had the misfortune to meet my first acolyte. My
opinion changed. The acolytes are a great threat, but not just to lupwyns—they
threaten
all
life. Perhaps humans most of all, since what the acolytes
serve seems to prefer human slaves.”

The general
grunted unhappily, bringing one finger down to tap heavily upon the letter
where it sat in the center of his desk. “This, written in my eldest daughter’s
own hand, tells me many disturbing things. And while it also beseeches me to
aid you, I will not lift one finger to help you until you tell me what has
become of my daughters. The letter says very little about them.”

Silverblade
nodded. He hadn’t actually read the letter, but what the general said was
probably true. From what he gleaned in the short time he’d known Ashayna, she
seemed a capable leader, but wasn’t one to share details or anything too
personal in nature. Her personal shields were a fortress. It might take a
lifetime to be able to read her with any accuracy, Silverblade reflected.

But General
Stonemantle had known Ashayna for a lifetime, and clearly he’d picked up
something in the letter that perhaps she hadn’t intended.

“Ashayna’s letter
mentions her own safety and that of my youngest, but it’s suspiciously vague in
regards to Lamarra. That my oldest and youngest would leave without a word to
me doesn’t come as a complete surprise. I raised them to be independent, loyal,
and willing to do what must be done.” The general thumped his fist against the
wooden desk top. “But Lamarra, my middle child, she is her mother’s daughter.
She would not leave on some lark or at the behest of some magic wielder simply
for the sake of a quest. Do not get me wrong. She is brave, but she has the
soul of a leader and knows well the importance of communication.”

The general stood
and walked around the edge of his desk. He stood before Beatrice and frowned
down at her.

“That Lamarra has
not tried to communicate tells me she cannot. And if she cannot, than it is
likely because she is a prisoner.”

The general’s
expression challenged her to tell him that he was wrong. Although she sensed
that he very much wanted to be wrong on this. But from what she had learned
from Silverblade, the general was not wrong—Lamarra was a prisoner.

Ashayna had
specifically said not to mention it to the general, but now that he had asked,
Beatrice did not know how she could lie to him without him knowing it. So she
told a half-truth.

“I cannot tell
you what has become of Lamarra. I doubt the Crown Prince of the Phoenix or the
Council of Elders could tell you either. From what I have gathered, there is a
powerful creature of spirit that protects the Elemental city from all things of
darkness. It sensed danger to the Stonemantle sisters. While the oldest and the
youngest had their own protectors, I think this guardian of the city sensed
that Lamarra was the most vulnerable of the three and he took it upon himself
to protect Lamarra.”

That wasn’t
exactly a lie, Beatrice decided. She just hoped the general bought it.

“Well that’s certainly
a fanciful tale thick with lies and evasions, but perhaps with a hint of truth
as well.” The general sighed and crossed his arms, his expression turning
somewhat less stony. “I suppose if I ever want to see any of my daughters
again, I will have to hear you out. The letter says that you will explain the
plan in more detail.”

*****

Beatrice listened
as Silverblade explained to the general what his daughters and the Council of
Elders had learned about the acolytes, and, more importantly to her way of
thinking, what it would take to kill them.

General
Stonemantle muttered something under his breath and then said more clearly, “I
never did like Lord Master Trensler or his silent, dead-eyed acolytes. Never
trusted them either, but I also lacked proof of their duplicity against the
Emperor.”

Again the general
walked a circuit around his big oak desk, frowning and mumbling to himself as
he moved.

At last he looked
back at Beatrice and Silverblade. “But enslaving and creating his own army is
certainly an act of aggression. One neither I, nor the Emperor, will tolerate.
I will meet with Crown Prince Sorntar. But without proof that the acolytes are
what you claim, I cannot risk going against them. We will leave under the cover
of darkness.” The general looked out the window, his expression far from
peaceful. “In the meantime, we have candlemarks before then. You can tell me
everything you know about the acolytes. I sense there are many things not
mentioned in this letter.”

As the general
had said, they had many candlemarks before they could slip back into the forest
unnoticed. In that time, he ordered a meal brought in, and in between bites of
food and sips of hot tea, Beatrice explained the nature of the acolytes’
fearsome power. She went on to say that while there were few types of magic
that could destroy the acolytes, there were some simpler, but effective ways of
destroying them, such as arrows and burning oil.

Throughout their
conversation, the general scribbled details into missives for his senior
officers, and Beatrice could only assume he was quietly readying his men.
Perhaps in the coming days, they would finally be able to deliver a crushing
blow to the acolytes.

When nightfall
came, General Stonemantle had Captain Nurrowford escort them in secret out of
River’s Divide. Once they were outside of the city proper, they parted ways.
Silverblade and Beatrice continued on to the forest where, in the dark shadows,
several members of Silverblade’s pack awaited them in the company of two
santhyrians. It wasn’t until they were well away from River’s Divide that the
tight knot of tension lodged firmly between Beatrice’s shoulder blades relaxed.

Once they
returned to where the Elemental council waited, they would share the news with
the Stonemantle sisters. A fierce grin spread across Beatrice’s face. With luck
and a great bit of death magic, she might live to witness the acolytes’
destruction. Or at least witness them getting run off these shores.

Although, she
knew that even if they won this battle, they would still have to find a way to
destroy Lord Master Trensler’s dark master and the rest of the acolytes still
holding power over the mainland and the Emperor.

But victory in
war came one battle at a time. There was no way Beatrice was going to let them
lose this one.

Little more than
four candlemarks later, Silverblade found himself standing next to Beatrice
while they awaited orders. He had resumed his lupwyn form, wanting sharper
senses for what was soon to come. Almost as tall as a phoenix, he towered over
Beatrice. But she didn’t seem to care and had tucked herself against his side.
Overhead, the moon was high and darkness still ruled. To the east, the slight
fading of stars promised dawn was approaching.

Thanks to the
swiftness of their two santhyrian mounts, they had made the journey back to the
Elementals, reported what they’d learned of the general, and still had time to
return to the pre-agreed upon destination.

The destination
had been chosen by Ashayna Stonemantle. She’d said it was far enough from
River’s Divide that they could meet in secret, but not so far that the general
couldn’t make the trip and be back in the city by dawn.

Silverblade
glanced around the open plain, flanked on one side by a vast river. He knew
this was the location where the human garrison had once made their armed camp.
It was also the place where Ashayna Stonemantle had first met her bondmate.

His eyes drifted
over to the two where they stood conversing with the Elemental council. He was
presently in his full lupwyn form and could hear every word of their
conversation, but he wasn’t really paying attention to their words.

Silverblade found
it difficult to believe that so much responsibility had been heaped upon these
two younglings. Neither of them were much older than Beatrice. Although, he
supposed, since they were the leaders of the Twelve, and had been reborn
countless times, they likely had lifetimes of experience. Still, when someone
didn’t remember their past lives, did that really count?

Frowning,
Silverblade considered what Councilor Tav had said about the leaders being too
young. Perhaps, but who was he to judge the gods and fate? So far, these
younglings seemed to be doing a fine job. In truth, he didn’t envy them having
to deal with the elders. His own mother had been a councilwoman for centuries,
and there had been times that he had not understood her reasoning. As much as
he’d loved her, it was still the truth.

Even though
Silverblade was an alpha, he’d always preferred the role of soldier over that
of leader. In this, he was content to sit back, take orders, and protect the
young ones when it was required.

By Ashayna’s
fierce expression, it looked like the leaders of the Twelve might need his
protection sooner rather than later. He gently bumped his muzzle against
Beatrice’s shoulder and indicated she should follow.

“I think I’d like
some armor first,” Beatrice said and patted his armor-covered chest. “Looks
like they’re flinging verbal spears at each other.”

“You can hide
behind me if you like.”

“Hah! You just
want me to stroke your tail. Nice try.”

“Perhaps not
now,” he said with a bark of laughter.

He glimpsed the
white flash of her teeth in the dim light and then she was off, heading towards
their leaders.

By the time they
reached them, he’d managed to fight back his laughter, and was just in time to
hear the tail end of Ashayna’s conversation. It became apparent why her body
language shouted her rage.

“You will not
threaten my father!” Ashayna turned to her bondmate, one eyebrow arched high.
“You! Deal with your mother.”

With that,
Ashayna stormed away, heading in the direction of her sister. Silverblade and
Beatrice sidestepped to allow the enraged human past.

“You still
believe her father may be an accomplice to the acolytes? Even after what
Beatrice and I reported?” Silverblade asked the Queen of the Phoenix.

Queen Talnarra
arched one elegant, feathered eyebrow, the crimson feathers of her crest rising
and falling just enough to betray her annoyance at his questioning. “Yes.
Caution is best in this situation. The acolytes are a clever and deceitful
enemy. Sensing and tracking their whereabouts has proven…difficult. Even you, a
member of the Twelve, did not sense the ambush that killed your mother. The
safeguards I have suggested will remain in place. Our most skilled archers will
remain on the other side of the river, and should General Stonemantle prove
false, he will die with the rest of the humans.”

Silverblade
stopped listening. Had the pompous, jewel-encrusted, so-very-superior ancient relic
just blamed him for his mother’s death? A growl built in his chest and his own
rage flared to life. So too did his pack bonds, and the surrounding forest was
soon filled with the haunting sound of a lupwyn hunting call.

Small, warm
fingers closed around his wrist and power flowed through him. At that delicate
touch, his and his pack’s rage was extinguished by soothing healer’s magic. One
gentle, unstoppable wave spread out from where Beatrice touched his wrist. He
huffed, but couldn’t muster up the rage again, not when she was pressed against
his side. Leaning down, he nuzzled her hair and inhaled her scent. In his full
lupwyn form, his mate’s scent was richer and fuller and had the ability to calm
him.

Slowly, reason
returned.

His judgement of
Queen Talnarra was unchanged, but he did understand her reason for not trusting
the human general or his men. But her attitude still left much to be desired.
Perhaps she wasn’t usually this abrasive? After all, she had just been locked
out of her own city by the Dead King.

That one of the
greatest workers of magic in the known world was fortifying his city to such an
extreme that nothing was permitted to come or go, perhaps not even the Twelve,
worried Silverblade on a whole new level. His displeasure with Sorntar’s mother
was a trifling thing in comparison.

Sighing
unhappily, he knew if the worst came to pass, and the acolytes had already
corrupted every creature in River’s Divide, he would protect and support
Beatrice while she did whatever was required for the greater good.

He glanced down
at his beloved to behold her practicing a magic almost as fearsome as what the
acolytes possessed. Apparently, she’d picked up on his thoughts and was in
agreement.

Beatrice looked
down at her palm with fierce concentration. Between her splayed fingers a dark,
shadowy magic danced. It flitted and fluttered like a living creature between
each of her fingers. She flicked her wrist and the magic jumped from one hand
to the other. Then, with a soft hiss of exhaled breath, she closed her fingers
upon it and the dark power blinked out of existence.

In the few days
since Beatrice had joined the pack and studied under the tutelage of Councilor
Tav, she had gained a better understanding and control of her fearsome power.
Yet still, late at night, she would whisper her fears to Silverblade and tell
him about her haunted dreams.

He tried to
reassure her, telling her it was simply a power, like a raging forest fire.
Dangerous and capable of great destruction, but not inherently evil. In the
coming moon cycles, Silverblade knew they would need her power, and Beatrice
would have to be comfortable enough with it not to hesitate.

He would guide
her and together with his pack, they would feed her the power she needed to
fuel that magic.

“It’s actually
becoming easier to summon and control with practice and the pack’s added
support.” Beatrice looked up at him and grinned. “Have I ever said thank you
for coming into my life?”

Beatrice
stretched up on her toes, and leaned forward to press a kiss against his
fur-covered cheek, and then another along the side of his muzzle before she
dropped back down onto her heels. Not yet completely trusting Beatrice’s easy
acceptance of his true form, he still hesitated to return her affections.
Although, even if she wasn’t as adjusted to his alternate forms as she
pretended, at least it gave him hope that she would come to accept him in all
his variations in time. For which he was glad. While he would take on human
form for her sake, he hadn’t looked forward to the idea of becoming human for
the rest of his long life.

There was nothing
quite as relaxing as being in one’s own skin. Even the thought of an army of
acolytes camped less than a day away couldn’t dampen his pleasure at Beatrice’s
affections.

His thoughts were
just starting to venture down the trail of pleasant memories when Autumn Shadow
came pelting into the camp. She and a few of the swiftest of their pack had
remained behind in the forests and fields near River’s Divide to track General
Stonemantle’s movements.

She skirted
around the clump of elders and councilors and made straight for Silverblade and
Beatrice. Once she reached them, she shifted, her four-legged full wolf form
vanishing to be replaced by her two-legged lupwyn one. With a slight ducking of
her head, first to him and then to Beatrice, she acknowledged them as her
alphas and then with an efficiency he’d always admired, she started into her
report.

“General
Stonemantle is leading a small army this way. There are also a number of
acolytes with them.”

Her words settled
like a stone in Silverblade’s stomach. He would’ve sworn that the general had
been uncorrupted, honestly wanting to work with the Elementals to rid his city
of the acolytes.

Scowling darkly,
he concluded that any number of things could have happened in the seven
candlemarks since he’d last laid eyes on the man. A shipload of acolytes had
just started coming into the harbor a few short candlemarks before he and
Beatrice had left. He supposed it was too much to ask for their plan to proceed
without challenge.

The coming battle
would have gone so much smoother if they’d had the element of surprise. But
Silverblade had learned to adapt. In a war with the acolytes, it was adapt or
die.

“Come,” he said,
gesturing both Beatrice and Autumn Shadow in the direction of the elders. Once
there, Autumn Shadow divulged the rest of her report.

Unfortunately, it
sounded like the general had emptied the garrison and every soldier within
River’s Divide was presently marching toward this location.

*****

By the time the
vanguard of the human army was near the agreed upon meeting point, the majority
of the Elementals present had taken to the air or vanished into the underbrush
at the edge of the forest like ghosts. There they would wait, hidden from the
humans’ senses. Silverblade doubted if they’d go undetected by the acolytes.

Not that it
mattered. They were ready this time and the acolytes would find that the
Elementals were equally deadly enemies.

For his part,
Silverblade waited in the open at the edge of the river with the rest of the
Twelve.

They were the
bait.

Having to sit and
wait for his enemies to attack first went against every instinct he possessed.
Lupwyns were masters of the hunt—dark shadows, sharp teeth, glowing eyes among
the trees, not bait laid out in the open. Silverblade gave a disgruntled huff
of annoyance.

Beatrice turned
toward him, her one eyebrow arched. “You might as well get used to the feeling
for the next candlemark or so. Human armies move very slowly. And until the
rest of the acolytes are within striking distance, we’ll have to keep the
vanguard distracted. You get to be bait just like the rest of us.”

Silverblade
wasn’t given the chance to reply. Just then, General Stonemantle entered the
clearing, a surprisingly small group of riders following behind.

This group must
have ridden ahead of the main army. To disguise their approach with the hope of
catching the Elementals unaware? Likely. The acolytes seemed to like
bloodbaths.

Silverblade
planned to give them one. By the end of this day, his mother would be avenged
and he would allow himself to mourn at last. But not just yet.

If he had to sit
and wait, acting like glorified bait to allow the acolytes to get close enough
so Beatrice and Ashayna could use their powers to devastating effect, he would
exercise patience.

The leaders of
the Twelve, the councilors, and both the lupwyn and phoenix queens had hammered
out a battle plan. As the leaders of the Twelve, Ashayna and Crown Prince
Sorntar would hunt out Lord Master Trensler and neutralize him. If the acolyte
leader was actually on the field of battle. Silverblade had his doubts. There
had been no word of Trensler’s exact whereabouts for days now.

Regardless,
Silverblade had his own target. He’d flat-out told the others that Ironsmith
was his. Beatrice had agreed graciously to let him have that particular
acolyte, as long as the others left her some acolytes to destroy.

Later, he and
Beatrice had spoken of this amongst themselves. If General Stonemantle had to
be dealt with, one or both of them together would see to it. They would spare
the general’s daughters that task. Beatrice would execute and he would run
interference should either of the Stonemantle sisters try to interfere out of
love for their father.

He hoped it didn’t
come to that, but knew it likely already had since the general was riding
toward them in the company of acolytes.