The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 2 Blood Honor and Dreams (24 page)

“Ya, well I’m not,” Finn grumbled and looked
down at the sword blade. “Val, a little help here,” he called over
his shoulder as loudly as he could manage.

Valor approached quickly, his face bloodless.
“Shit, Finn,” he said, the words faint. “Do you want me to carry
you or bring Rose here?” he asked, his gaze locked on the sword
hilt.

“Actually I’d like you to grab the sword hilt
and pull the damn sword out of me. I can’t quite reach it myself,”
Finn snapped, the pain showing through in his voice.

“I can’t believe he is alive,” Jail said
quietly beside her.

“Did you truly expect my nephew to lose?”
Arjuna asked dryly. “Of course he won. Finn always wins.”

Looking up, Jala let the scry fade and
brushed a hand across her tear streaked face. When she moved her
hand away she found Arjuna and Neph watching her with amused
expressions. “You knew he would win against Kithkanon?” she asked
faintly.

“Of course, I did,” Arjuna answered without
pause or consideration. “He is Firym blood,” he added, as if that
settled the matter entirely.

“I hope Valor still kicks his ass though. He
earned it with that drama and I had plans to kill Kithkanon. I
consider this theft,” one of the Firym guards muttered from under
his helm. Reaching up he pulled it off and winked at Jala. “I’ve
seen you looking better Waif,” Havoc said with a smile.

“What are you doing in the Justicar’s hall?”
she gasped. This was the last place she had expected to see a
Fionaveir.

“In the event that things go poorly tomorrow,
you will be leaving with me,” he said with a wink. “I’m but a lowly
guard today. I will be standing right over there in the corner all
night to ensure no one troubles you,” Havoc said, indicating his
chosen corner with a hand. Cocking his head toward the other guard,
he grinned wider. “And Vic will be standing in the other corner. He
isn’t talking right now. Firym don’t have the girly accent that he
does so he can’t pretend to be tough like me while talking.”

“It’s not a girly accent,” Victory protested,
his voice muffled by the helm but the musical Fae accent was still
clearly audible.

“See, he doesn’t sound Firym at all,” Havoc
said to her with another grin. “Just look how many friends you have
now Curly. It’s nothing like it was when you first left the
temple.” His voice was reassuring as he regarded the crowded
room.

“Havoc, put your helm back on, shut up, and
get in the corner. None of my guards behave in such a manner,”
Arjuna snapped and then looked to her. “Neph, Zachary, and I will
be leaving now to ensure the council is tomorrow. You should be
safe enough here tonight with your “guards” and Jail. I would
expect a visit from Finn as well if they allow him upstairs.”
Nodding to her, he turned to leave the room with Zachary and Neph
close behind.

“This will be fixed tomorrow, Jala. Just
remember the appearance of power,” Neph said as he closed the door
behind them.

“You do have a lot of strength on your side,”
Jail said quietly, his eyes moving from the door to her face.

“I think I’m going to need it all,” Jala
replied with a slight frown.

Avanti

Long tables lined with food covered the
sunlit room. Truce regarded them absently as he moved to stand by a
window. From the amount of food present, his father expected quite
a few guests. A flicker of movement across the room caught his eye
and he looked up to watch Sovaesh approach. The red-haired man was
as silent as usual, his long grey coat making the only sound as it
brushed against the back of his boots. His dark green eyes met
Truce’s as he drew closer and it seemed to him that they held
anger. It was hard to judge Sovaesh’s expressions, though, due to
the half mask that seemed to always cover the Assassin’s lower
face. He couldn’t blame the man for being angry if he was. Cassia
had practically started a war with his son, and even he was getting
sick of it.

“Sovaesh,” Truce said in greeting as the man
stopped beside him.

“Truce.” The Assassin returned the greeting.
As usual, he didn’t bother with titles. Sovaesh was almost always
impudent when speaking with anyone but High Lord Avanti.

“What can I do for you for you?” Truce asked
cautiously, wondering why Sovaesh had sought him out. His
father-in-law had barely spared ten words for him since his wedding
three years ago.

“I’d like a private word with you before the
meeting,” Sovaesh replied his voice barely a whisper.

“That doesn’t give us much time to speak,”
Truce pointed out, his gaze flicking to the clock on the mantle.
“Perhaps ten minutes,” he said his eyes going back to Sovaesh.

“More than enough time,” Sovaesh said and
nodded in the direction of the garden door. “Outside though,” he
said and began moving before Truce could even respond.

With a last look toward the over-laden
tables, Truce sighed and followed after the man at a leisurely
pace. He couldn’t help but be curious at this meeting but he was
cautious as well.

He caught up with the Assassin at the bottom
of the stairs standing near a trellis of climbing red roses. The
air was thick with the fragrance and Truce inhaled deeply.
Wordlessly, Sovaesh began walking again. His steps guided them past
the lush flower beds and he seemed to be heading toward the small
brook that ran through the center of the gardens. Truce followed
behind silently, eyes roving over the bright colored flowers to the
perfectly trimmed grass.
I wonder how many gardeners we actually
have
, he mused as he noted the pristine condition of the
grounds. Not a leaf was out of place and not a weed could be
seen.

“I want to know where you stand on the
current events,” Sovaesh said quietly, pausing by a small
waterfall.

Truce pursed his lips and dropped lightly
onto a bench beside the brook and shrugged. “Personally, I had
planned to try to talk my father out of it. I doubt I will have
much success however,” he said, keeping his voice low. It wasn’t a
good sign that Sovaesh was showing interest in politics. That would
make his father nervous.

“What would you do if you were in charge?”
Sovaesh asked, one slender brown eyebrow raised in question.

Truce regarded the man carefully, reminding
himself that Sovaesh was his father-in-law and if he didn’t choose
his words very carefully, he would have either his wife or his
father coming down on him. “I would not go to war. There is no
profit in war,” he answered carefully.

“And what of my daughter-in-law? Would you
still wish to see her dead? Or Finn, for that matter?” he asked his
voice level.

“I believe Cassia is acting in excess,” Truce
answered vaguely and shifted slightly as the Assassin’s eyes
narrowed. “No, I see no point in killing either of them. I like
Finn,” he clarified. “Sovaesh, you aren’t actually planning on
killing my father are you?” he asked. The question was a bold one
but one he would greatly like the answer to.

“Would you be upset if I were?” Sovaesh
asked, and the question gave him pause.

Sitting quietly, Truce contemplated it and
slowly shook his head. “I have no wish to see my father dead. I
would greatly prefer finding a way to talk him out of this current
situation,” he said finally and wondered if he shouldn’t be calling
for guards. It would be the proper thing to do, he knew. If Sovaesh
was plotting against his father it needed to be stopped now.

“If it makes you feel better I have no
intention of making a move now. I simply do not like the direction
things are going,” Sovaesh said, drawing Truce once more from his
thoughts.

“I can’t say that I do either. I think war is
the last thing we need with the difficulties in Gaelyn. And truly I
cannot understand why there is such a fuss over your
daughter-in-law. She is just a simple girl. I don’t see how she
could be a threat at all.” He paused thoughtfully and smiled at
Sovaesh. “You know, I met her at Finn’s wedding. She seemed sweet
and shy. I have no idea what Cassia has against her.”

“Jealousy,” Sovaesh said simply, letting the
single word hang.

Truce stared at him for a moment and shook
his head slowly. “Why would Cassia be jealous over a girl with no
money or station?” he asked finally, realizing Sovaesh had no
intention of elaborating.

“My son used your sister like a whore and
then married this girl. Shade catered to this girl’s every whim and
shunned Cassia. Half of the high lord children live in the same
hall as Jala and love her. Now tell me, why should your sister be
jealous?” Sovaesh explained slowly as if speaking to an
imbecile.

“Well when you put it that way …,” Truce
muttered and let his words trail off. He truly hadn’t considered it
in that light. Cassia was prideful. It was no wonder this girl’s
presence was pricking her ego. “But what do you want from me,
Sovaesh? I can’t stop Cassia any more than I can my father. Cass is
his golden child,”

“I want you to do everything you can today to
steer your family in another direction. I want you to soothe your
sister and I want you to get your family to leave my son alone,”
Sovaesh said, his tone definitely holding a note of anger. “I am a
patient man, Truce, but I am quickly losing my patience with the
Avanti,” he added, and nodded to Truce before turning on his heels
and leaving the way he had come.

“Wonderful,” Truce muttered as he watched the
Assassin disappear into the house. “And for my next Miracle, the
Barrier will fall.”

Standing slowly he shoved his hands into his
pockets and stared at the immense windows of the dining hall.
Guests would be arriving any time now and he would need to be
inside to greet them. It wasn’t a task he looked forward to at all.
He knew for a certainty that Lord Morcaillo would be there and the
man had been acting odd lately. It was also likely that Lord Rivasa
would be there as well and Truce had never cared much for the man
or his sons. With a resigned sigh, he headed back to the house and
opened the doors just as the opposite doors were opening with the
first guest. Freezing in his tracks, Truce stared at the woman for
a brief moment in absolute shock. She was the last person he had
expected to see. She was examining the room with a critical eye.
The long black skirts of her high collared gown brushed lightly
against the marble causing a rustle with her every move. “High Lady
Nerathane, what an honor to have you here,” Truce called and walked
toward her with a smile.

Turning her dark eyes on him, she raised a
slender copper eyebrow, her expression doubtful. “Why am I being
greeted by an heir and not the High Lord?” she asked, her high
voice grating to his ears.

“I’m afraid my father is not available yet.
He is an extremely busy man. I assure you he will be down shortly,”
Truce said keeping his voice pleasant. Bowing before her he kissed
the back of her hand lightly, fully expecting the pale flesh to be
cold to the touch. She was certainly cold enough in
personality.

“I see,” she replied in disapproval and
carefully pulled her hand away, glancing down at the plentitude of
rings as if she expected one to be missing.

Ignoring the insult, Truce smiled and
motioned toward the table. “Perhaps you would care for some
refreshments,” he offered with a smile.

She looked over the table fleetingly and
shook her head ever so slightly. Raising a hand to assure herself
that her coppery hair was still up despite the movement, she sighed
at him. “No, I don’t think so. Why don’t you busy yourself
somewhere else, child.” Waving a hand at him as if dismissing a
servant, she walked toward one of the wide windows.

Truce nodded slightly and bit his tongue.
Keeping the smile plastered on his face was getting more difficult
by the moment. The sound of the door opening again drew his
attention away from the high lady. His mood sank even further as
the dark haired man stepped through. He was perhaps six foot and
more heavily muscled than the typical High Lord, but then one would
expect the High Lord of the Seravae to be muscled. He was, after
all, a renowned Soulblade. “What the hell,” Truce muttered under
his breath and bowed low to the new arrival. “High Lord Jexon, what
an honor. May I be the first to welcome you to the Avanti house?”
Truce called in greeting.

Jexon snorted in amusement at Truce and
raised an eyebrow. “Are you playing servant today?” he asked, his
voice deep and cynical.

“I’m honored to attend my father’s guests
until he can arrive,” Truce answered, fighting to keep his
expression pleasant and idly wished he had ordered Sovaesh to stay.
Having the household Assassin in the room would likely have kept
the guests more cordial.

“Ahh, yes, you look so honored. You know it’s
a Reaver trait to read people and I can see how irritated you are
right now, boy,” Lord Jexon said, his gaze slowly moving to High
Lady Nerathane at the window. “Of course, I can guess as to why,”
he finished and brushed past Truce, heading for one of the
tables.

Guessing it was best to simply remain silent
after such a comment, Truce smiled, the expression nearly frozen on
his face. His only solace was the fact that he had told his wife to
relax at home so she didn’t have to endure this as well. His
attention rose as High Lord Rivasa and High Lord Morcaillo entered,
apparently in deep discussion. By the expression on Rivasa’s face
it was apparently a topic he enjoyed.

“Ahh, Truce, how are you, my boy?” Lord
Morcaillo called as he noticed him.

“Very good, Lord Morcaillo, thank you for
asking. I regret that my father himself is not here to greet you
both,” Truce said, bowing his head to the two high lords.

“Have you heard the good news?” Lord
Morcaillo asked with a smile.

“What news would that be, Milord?” Truce
scanned his mind frantically for any recent news that might have
pleased the man this much but came up blank.