When Teo was arrested he assumed he was going to spend the rest of his life, painful and short though it might be, in one of the Dawn March’s dungeons. When he was loaded into an unlocked and rather comfortable wagon he was puzzled, up till the moment that he understood he’d been used as bait. From there he presumed the trip to the dark and dreary dungeon was going to resume as scheduled.

“This is not at all what I expected a prison to look like,” Teo stared at the soaring, white stone ceilings and gem bright, rainbow windows of the palace they stood in.

Officer Sol had driven their carriage into a wide underground passage inside the capital city’s third wall. That matched Teo’s original expectations, though after their conversation, the vampire had thought Sol was not particularly interested in upholding the Dawn March’s more questionable mandates like locking up an innocent man. Their carriage had passed through numerous checkpoints though, and, with each one, Teo heard an additional lock clicking shut on the remainder of his life.

When the carriage finally came to a halt, Teo expected to find himself in the bowels of a fortress with rusty locks and mold growing everywhere. A busy transit hub was something he couldn’t have expected or imagined under the circumstance, so the presence of other carriages and carts and a whole marketplace of commercial trade goods struck him much the same as an invading army would have.

Sol had eventually talked the vampire out of the carriage, assuring Teo that he hadn’t driven them to Pandemonium’s shores.

From the Underhub, the two ascended through an even more tightly guarded series of checkpoints until they were standing in a reception room that was more elegantly appointed than any estate Teo had ever seen while in on the Telli’s service. Everything in the room was done in fine satins, or polished gems, or rich, dark woods with gold and silver accents providing a warmth and light that left Teo feeling both relaxed and in awe at the same time.

“You have some funny ideas of what ‘protective custody’ entails vampire,” Sol said. “Just wait here for a bit. I’ll get our presence announced and we can see about getting you turned over to the Queen’s Guards.”

“I’m sorry, but what are you saying?” Teo asked. “The Queen’s Guards are going to arrest me? I’m afraid I’m really not that important.”

“Oh you poor, poor wretch,” Sol said. “If you didn’t want to be that important, you should never have let the Captain get her hands on you.”

“Believe me I wish that could have been avoided,” Teo said.

“No use crying about it now,” Sol said. “I’ll just go and tell the proper folks what’s up. I expect it will take a while. These sorts of people always move slow. If you don’t hear from me in five or six hours, I’m sure someone will be by with lunch. Shouldn’t take much more than a day to get this sorted out though so you probably won’t need a billet for the night.”

And with that Teo’s driver was gone, leaving him alone in a room that could have hosted breakfast for twenty with room left over for the servants to pass unnoticed. Teo settled in for a long wait, perplexed at the turn of events that led him from lying  bleeding and broken in an alley to sitting on a couch that was so comfortably cushioned he wasn’t sure he was capable of leaving its embrace. He didn’t have a great deal of time to consider his situation however as barely a half hour later a page arrived in the room.

“You are summoned to attend an audience with the Her Majesty,” the page said. “Please follow me.”

“Did you saw Her Majesty?” Teo asked. “As in Her Majesty the Queen?”

“Yes, sir,” the page said. She held her position at the door with great patience. Teo remembered serving similar duties. There was always the tension between the desire to fulfill your appointed duty as quickly as possible and the desire to avoid annoying someone who could be an honored guest.

Teo rose from the couch, regretting the departure from the lazy stupor he’d sunk into, and nodded to the page.

“Thank you, please show me where to go,” he said. In the back of his mind, his thoughts spun and scrambled and shattered apart on each other trying to answer the question of why he could be meeting with the Queen, of all people in the realm. The temptation to ask the page what was going on was strong, the young girl was the only source of information he had, but he knew from experience that she almost certainly knew nothing of his situation and that even if she did there was no method short of mind control that would pry the information out of her unless she’d been instructed to tell him.

The two walked in silence, down Royal hallways, up Royal staircases and through Royal doorways, each of which managed to convey its exalted status in the materials they were composed of, the architectural styles applied to them and the fact that there were more guards per square foot than Teo could remember seeing in most lending houses.

With his mind caught trying to absorb the whirlwind of spectacles that surrounded him, Teo barely noticed when they arrived at their destination.

“Presenting Teolicianza Si’Nostrum,” the Queen’s seneschal said as Teo was led into the room.

“We would have privacy with this witness,” the Queen said and to Teo’s horror, everyone else in the receiving room filed out in an orderly fashion, including Sol who had apparently been presenting Teo’s case to the Queen moments earlier.

Standing before the sovereign of his adopted realm, Teo could summon only two thoughts to mind. First that it was crucially important with royalty to address them at all times in a manner befitting their station and second that he had never once received training in the proper etiquette for dealing with the supreme ruler of the Gallagrin.

“You have rather vital information,” the Queen said, gesturing for Teo to come forward and take a seat at one of the testimonial desks before her. “Say what brings you to my court today.”

“My apologies your Majesty. I was not aware…” Teo said, struggling to think of where to begin his tale and what the Queen might consider to be vital information. He eased into the cushioned chair which put him directly in front of the Queen and glanced around looking for some obvious clue as to where to start explaining his situation.

“You weren’t aware that you were being sent to us?” the Queen said, guessing at the probable cause of Teo’s flustered speech.

“Regrettably, no,” Tea said. “I would have endeavored to present a more appropriate semblance both in appearance and manner.”

“Neither your appearance nor your manner displeases us.” the Queen said. “Your tale grows more intriguing each moment though. What game is she playing I wonder?”

“I am not at all sure of the games others may be engaged in Your Majesty,” Teo said. “I suspect my role is only a minor one.”

“On such have kingdoms been won and lost,” the Queen said. “Please begin your tale wherever you would like, we would hear all of it and will have questions on many of the details, if our intuition is correct.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Teo said and began to recount his story, starting from his arrest by Officer Kor and working largely backwards in time from there.

The Queen listened intently to his story, prodding him gently for additional information on areas he was tempted to skip over. Her questions were broadly focused, but Teo had the sense that there was a central figure the Queen was trying to discern through his eyes. At first he thought she was interested in hedging in Duke Telli to determine his connection to the matter but the longer they spoke the more her questions tended towards oblique inquiries as to Officer Kor’s status. Despite not having a great deal of insight into the strange woman’s psyche or situation, Teo grew increasingly comfortable speaking about his experiences. The Queen was warm and considerate and seemed genuinely grateful to have a new source of information on her kingdom.

Then they came to the news of the murder at Castle Nath.

The Queen’s consideration and gratitude remained but when she learned the name of the boy who’d been slain, a name Teo had only overhead while he was being questioned by the Dawn March, all of the warmth drained from her features.

“Are you certain of what you heard?” she asked him. “Has Lorenzo truly been murdered?”

“I will stand by my recollection of what the Dawn March officers stated,” Teo said. “Whether they were speaking the truth however is beyond my capacity to ascertain.”

The Queen rang a small bell that sat beside her throne, and a moment later the page who led Teo to the receiving room entered through a small side door.

“Your Majesty?” the page asked and bowed low in her sovereign’s presence.

“Send a missive to Telli,” the Queen said. “He is to report here, to me, today, with any information he has concerning any members of my Page Corp who were on holiday in Nath.”

“At once Your Majesty,” the page said and left the room so quickly Teo thought she’d simply vanished.

“Please, continue your tale,” the Queen said. Coming from royalty it was a command, not a request, but the Queen’s demeanor left Teo with the sense that it was a command he could have asked permission to refuse if he had good reason.

“My words feel as though they are all a jumble,” Teo said. “I do not know for sure if this is connected, but I would find it straining coincidence if it was not; we, Officer Sol and I, were accosted on the journey here. Someone felled a tree in front of us and attacked with enchanted arrows at the very least.”

“Yet you appear safe from harm,” the Queen said. “Is that why you appear so famished?”

“No, I was not the one who fought off the attackers,” Teo said. “Officer Kor had ridden in secret on the top of our carriage. When we were ambushed she revealed herself and took the fight to the attackers.”

“And what became of her?” the Queen asked.

“I’m not certain,” Teo said. “Officer Sol seemed to feel she was in no danger and she’d ordered him to continue on in the event of an emergency, so he drove us off before the battle was decided.”

“She’s gone back to Nath,” the Queen said, her voice softer than it had been.

“There is still a great deal of uncertainty regarding the murder from what I gather,” Teo said. “And I don’t believe Officer Kor has a great deal of faith or trust in the other members of her barracks.”

“That is a view which is perhaps warranted,” the Queen said.

“I didn’t mean to cast aspersions on any of your agents, Your Majesty,” Teo said.

“Perhaps you should,” the Queen said. “We know well the effect our father’s reign had on this kingdom. And our grandfather’s before that and our great grandmother’s before them both. Even our own ascension to the throne has left us with a variety of perilous issues to contend with.”

“I’ve heard that you’ve made great strides in the last six years though,” Teo said, hoping to lighten the atmosphere.

“For each piece of the house which is rebuilt, two more threaten to crumble,” the Queen said. “There was no kindness between our father and ourself but perhaps we can extend him the mercy of acknowledging how the crown can drive one to madness.”

“If I may do anything to help lighten that burden…” Teo said.

“Your words today have revealed a heavy load that we must carry,” the Queen said. “But it appears to be a load we were destined to carry regardless of whether we were aware of it or not.”

“Which of my words have given offense?” Teo asked.

“No offense has been given, but we see the pattern now,” the Quee said. “Someone is moving against us. Someone resourceful, someone clever and someone who is determined to take my throne and, quite probably, my life.”

Queen Alari Gallagrin woke, as she did most days, in solitude. The Royal Bedchamber was located in the highest spire of castle, its doors and windows braced to prevent even the slightest sound from escaping the sanctuary the room provided. The quiet was a gift from the chambers previous occupant, the departed and unmourned King Sathe. Alari had removed every other trace of the Butcher King from the room when she assumed the throne, but had found the shutters as valuable for keeping sound out as her father had found them for keeping sounds in.

For the four thousandth time, the Queen’s hand drifted to other side of the airy mattress and found only the chill of empty sheets where once there had been comfort and warmth in even the darkest of nights. She couldn’t return to those days, no matter how many times her dreams lured her to them, too much had changed over the years of her reign. There had been too many prices to pay, and too many losses she had failed to account for.

Beside her bed, the cradle stood as it had for over a year. Unused, unneeded. A remembrance that Alari wanted no reminder of. Her staff, the ones who had known her from when she was a girl, the ones she trusted, had asked, in their gentle, respectful fashion, if they could remove the simple piece of furniture until it was needed again?

She hadn’t let them. It brought a fresh wave of pain to see the cradle there each morning, but she could bear the pain, at least more so than she could bear the bone deep certainty that she would never have need of it again. She was too damaged, in too many ways, for that dream to ever become real.

Melancholy ate away at her, like the sea crashing in waves on the beach of her mind. The beach pushed back each small surge of tide but not without piece of it eroding away one pebble at a time. As storm tossed as she felt though, Alari nonetheless pushed herself out her bed and began her morning routine.

For the other royals in the Blessed Realms, or any noble in her kingdom, the day would start much the same; upon waking they would call for their servants to begin preparing both attire and the morning’s repast. Alari’s appetite was a fickle thing though and until she was ready to greet the world she had no need for her royal regalia.

So she wrote.

The Queen’s Diary was ensorcelled with a killing curse, but, even still, she encrypted the thoughts that she recorded within its pages in code. Most of her missives were simple letters to her future self. Observations she wanted to record for later consideration, lists of problems to be addressed rather than forgotten and, occasionally, dreams that stood out with particular clarity.

As she took quill and ink to the next page of her diary, Alari’s thoughts shifted away from her melancholy and to the melange of dream and memory that she’d walked in before opening her eyes.

She was ten once more and the castle was the giant endless labyrinth that she’d seen it as then. Outside the walls of the castle, the world was dark and horrible, but inside the castle there was room for adventure and exploration.

“We should raid the armory!” the child Alari had said. The excitement that accompanied those words echoing down across almost two decades.

“What for?” her handmaid asked, hoisting a wooden dowel onto her shoulders. As makeshift swords went, the dowel had been adequate in real life, but in Alari’s dream memory it shrunk to the width of her handmaid’s pinky finger.

“If I am to be the Queen, my knight must be properly outfitted!” child Alari said. The adult Alari, who was watching the dream play out as little more than an observer still felt her childish awe at the idea of being Queen someday.

In child Alari’s mind, her reign would begin on her twentieth birthday, once she’d had the time to learn everything that a Queen needed to know. She would be so smart by then that everyone would listen to her and do what she said because she’d be able to convince them with just the right words.

Alari’s journal writing stopped there. Even guarded by a killing curse and written in code, it was difficult to record that she’d ever been as naive as her dream had shown she was.

As a gift to her future self though, she returned her quill to the page. She’d already paid the price for her naivety many times over, hiding it from herself wasn’t going to make it any easier to avoid mistakes like that in the future.

“If I’m your knight, shouldn’t I be keeping you out of danger?” her handmaid asked Alari.

“Won’t you have an easier time doing that if you have a proper weapon and armor?” child Alari said. Her handmaid thought about that and brightened at the idea.

“You’re going to be the best Queen ever,” she said.

Child Alari clung to those words so tightly that they survived in her memory long past the time when the Queen’s experience proved them untrue.

Down wildly distorted dream corridors which never existed in the real palace, the two girls raced. Memory and dream splashed against each other and Alari saw visions from years later. The castle under siege. An older version of herself racing up the spire instead of down, ascending to her throne and the fatal destiny that stood between her and it. She almost lost herself in that memory, its gravity warping the dream with the same force that it warped her soul. Ahead though, almost lost in the distance, she saw her handmaid beckoning from the doorway to the castle’s treasure trove.

The memory of her days of childish foolishness offered little hope of earning wisdom, where recalling her most desperate struggle might bring Alari the insights she needed to ensure that it was never repeated. Regardless, she chose to follow her handmaid. She re-fought her battles constantly in her mind, if for one moment she could see her long lost friend again, even knowing it was only in a dream, the choice was easy for the Queen to make.

The treasure room appeared much as it had in reality. No gems or gold or finely crafted objects. Those were secreted elsewhere and neither Alari nor her handmaid had any interest in them. For the two girls, the true treasures were the ones that offered tangible power; steel plated mail, enchanted swords that thrummed with the power contained within them, and far out of their reach, behind wards they couldn’t hope to dismantle, the sigil stones needed to work a Pact binding ritual.

“This one looks about the right size for me,” the handmaid said, hoisting a sword as long as she was tall up to inspect it.

“Can you even swing that?” Alari asked.

“Of course I can,” her handmaid said, making the attempt and managing to not quite topple over in the process.

“Now, you’re really are my knight!” Alari said, delighted at the show of prowess and strength.

“I will protect you from all dangers, my lady! If anyone tries to hurt you, I’ll chop their head clean off!” her handmaid said, bowing to the child-would-be-Queen. The memory of that pledge stung Alari. She had a whole kingdom to defend her, regular troops by the legion, and full Pact Knights, and the mantle of the Royal Regalia she had wrested along with the crown, but she didn’t feel even a thimble full as safe with all of that as she had when she believed her handmaid’s vow.

“Then I name you here and now, my first and truest Knight,” child Alari said.

“Aren’t you supposed to wait till I’ve done some deed of valor to do that?” the handmaid asked.

“If you’re willing to be my Knight, then that’s the bravest thing I can think of anyone doing,” Alari said.

The dream shifted, consumed by the memory of her father that had tinged her words with fear even then. King Sathe had never posed a direct danger to his daughter, but even as a child she could see the madness that held him in its grip, and she knew his rule couldn’t last forever.

In her diary, there were already hundreds of pages that carried Alari’s thoughts about her father so she stopped at adding more. She’d woken from the dream at that point anyways so some part of her mind was willing to let those ghosts rest for the day.

Fully awake, if not fully pleased to be so, she finally signaled for her servants to enter and begin preparing her for the day.

An hour later she joined her husband, Consort-King Halrek, for the first of the day’s many sessions with their supporting noble lords.

“You look well this morning,” Halrek said, glancing up from a budgetary map of the Duchy of Tel.

“It’s kind of you to say so,” Alari said. “Has there been any word from the northern provinces?”

“Not yet,” Halrek said. “The rebuilding there should be proceeding according to schedule, but with the gala…”

The Royal Unification Celebration had been Alari’s idea originally and she still acted as one of its chief sponsors. The civil war that placed her on the throne had left huge rifts in the society of Gallagrin. One day of celebration a year couldn’t undo the damage that had been done, not alone at any rate, but as part of an overall campaign of reintegration she could see some positive changes coming out of it.

As with many of her youthful ideas though, Alari had been surprised at the reception her plans for healing the country’s wounds had garnered. She thought her enemies in the civil war, her father’s supporters, would be the ones to spurn her offers of peace and reconciliation. Many of them had leapt at the chance to return to the good graces of the monarchs in power though. By contrast, the people who had sided with her in the war were the ones who were the most disdainful and opposed to the process, citing the heavy rebuilding costs that still remained and the need for the royalty to remember those who supported them, Alari found that her closest allies were in many cases her strongest opposition as well.

“We should dispatch envoys to the north,” Alari said. “If their couriers are being mislaid, we might need to increase the Inward Patrols.”

“Our borders are still a concern,” Halrek said. “North, East and West, we are beset by neighbors who don’t look at us with a friendly eye.”

“At least there is Paxmer that we may rely on,” Alari said. Her husband having once been a prince of Paxmer, relations between the two countries were at the most peaceful that they had ever been, this despite the damage Paxmer wrought on Gallagrin during the latter’s civil war.

“Yes, we could draw down our forces on the southern border to reinforce the north, but that’s a long march and places the troops out of use for quite some time,” Halrek said.

“We can discuss that with the southern lords today then,” Alari said, already able to picture the bickering that was likely to ensue at the suggestion that royal troops would be redeployed from the locations where they were currently spending their hard earned gold.

“Your Majesty, a special courier has arrived from Nath for you,” one of the royal pages said to Alari.

“From Nath?” she blinked in surprise. She had seen Duke Telli at the gala a few nights previously and he hadn’t mentioned anything of significant importance that was due to occur within his domain. “Escort the courier into my receiving room.”

Alari left Halrek to attend to the beginning of the meeting. Nothing of merit would be discussed for the first half hour anyways so she felt in no rush to rejoin it. A special courier for her though was unusual enough to capture her interest.

When she arrived at the receiving room, the Queen found her guest already waiting before the throne.

“Your Majesty, may I present Sergeant Sol Korshin of the Dawn March,” the Queen’s seneschal  said.

“Please rise Sergeant Korshin and state your business,” Alari said.

“I’ve been sent to convey a vampire into your care and keeping,” Sol said.

“I am not in the habit of collecting sentient beings,” Alari said, a chill running through her at even the hint that she might continue a family tradition. “Who sent you.”

“Officer Daelynne Kor of the Dawn March Nath Barracks,” Sol said.

The name was strange in Alari’s ears but within a breath she placed who Sol represented.

“Did she send a message with the vampire?” Alari asked, grateful that she was already sitting down.

“Yes, she said if you hadn’t yet heard of a reason to be concerned about Nath, then you should question the vampire immediately,” Sol said. “She also wanted me to say that she’s ready to chop off a few heads if you ask her to, but I think that’s just her ruthless streak showing through.”

Alari forced herself to breath, and to suppress the smile that wanted to brighten her face. The vampire bore horrible news, she had no doubt about that, but the short message that accompanied him let her know that she wasn’t facing it alone.

There was screaming, and burning, and all manner of horrible racket before Teo’s carriage lurched forward. The sudden jolt as the horses surged ahead slammed Teo into his seat and cracked the icy cocoon of fear that immobilized him. As the din of combat receded into the distance, Teo waited for his nerves to steady themselves. An inner voice that sounded like the Duke’s told him that he should feel relieved that he was safe once again, and that the attack had been redirected. Instead his hands shook.

There was no one else in the carriage, a fact for which Teo was miserably grateful. Running away from the battle was bad enough, but the fear that lingered would have been unbearable if anyone had seen it.

A thousand, million, lessons as a boy taught him that brave men leapt out of carriages and crushed their enemies for daring to assault them in situations like the one he’d been in. Only weaklings cowered when they were threatened. Teo didn’t want to believe that he was a coward but he hadn’t jumped out to fight beside Officer Kor. He could have. The door wasn’t locked, despite his being “under arrest”. He could have, but he hadn’t. And he hadn’t wanted to.  

Struggling with the paralysis that was still sending shivers down his body, Teo drew his knees to his chest and curled into as small a space as he could. The first arrows that were fired hadn’t reached him but if the assassins were working with enchanted arrow heads, then they might have any manner of unpleasant tools to employ against him.

In time, as they rode steadily on, the flames of the arrows that transfixed the side of the carriage fizzled away and the metal heads cooled so that their bright orange heat dulled to a dim red. For longer than Teo could count, the carriage raced as fast as the horses could pull it and the sounds of the battle faded to silence as the fight fell miles behind them.

With the passing of the hours, Teo’s stomach grumbled, the needs of the body not wholly suppressed by the turmoil of the mind. He hugged his knees tighter to his chest and tried not to think of how long it had been since he’d last fed.

Ren’s life force was bright and strong. After a feeding, he seemed barely diminished outwardly, but in Teo’s eyes the spark within the Duke’s son was noticeably dimmer for days afterwards. It was why Teo insisted that they wait so long between “nibbles” as Ren called their blood giving sessions.

They hadn’t been nibbling when the Duke “caught” them together, though it might have been better if they were. That would have solidified Teo’s claim that his “vampiric nature” overwhelmed him and perhaps allowed Ren to return to his father’s good graces.

The more Teo ran that horrible day over in his mind though, the less sure he was that anything about his relationship with Ren was really at fault for the Duke’s reaction. On the surface the Duke’s ranting and verbal abuse had been directed at a commoner who presumed above his station.

To the Duke, his children were little more than resources to use in the private wars noblemen were always waging against each other. Ren was a second son, and the youngest born which left him as a pawn of lesser worth than his siblings but still potentially useful to secure an alliance with another house or sell to a faction which needed a noble figurehead. His relationship with Teo was problematic on a number of levels, with the two biggest being the severe lapse in judgment he showed involving himself with someone so far below his station and the second, and less forgivable one, being the fact that Teo was a vampire.

Few people knew about the feeding requirements of Teo’s bloodline, and fewer cared. What most saw was an undead monster that drew its strength from the blood of the living and, when properly fed, was a match for even a Pact Warrior. Where most Pact Warriors could only maintain their transformation for a limited time though, vampires were effectively transformed permanently and were believed to be less-than-sane as a result. This belief wasn’t unfounded either. There were many who took the transformation poorly, and some bloodlines that were composed primarily of monsters. Teo himself knew that in certain areas he was no longer capable of acting with reasonable self-control. Only physical restraint and direct pleas from Ren had held Teo back from taking the lives of a pair of noblemen who disparaged Ren’s character within Teo’s earshot a week after he was first turned.

That incident, and others like it, couldn’t have escaped the Duke’s attention, but he hadn’t deigned to notice or comment on any of them before the night he barged into Ren’s bed chamber. Something about the fear that Teo felt then, helped him navigate the fear he felt while curled up in the back of the carriage.

Then he’d lost the person he loved most in the world. Then he’d been beaten and cast out of the only home he had. Then he’d been left starving in a ravine. Compared to that, his current fear was still miserable, but it was a misery that he could survive.

Reflecting on himself, Teo felt his fear yield to shame and then to absurd and shallow mirth. Vampires were supposed to be unholy terrors. Creatures of power and mystery who were untouchable and unkillable. Teo knew that none of those things were true. Without blood, and the life force it carried, he was weaker than he’d been even as a boy. The Duke’s assault had been well timed in that sense. Teo had gone so long not feeding from Ren that he’d lacked anything like the strength to fight back.

The Duke could have killed Teo in front of his son, and was possibly intending to, but Ren’s pleading had caused the nobleman to stay his hand. The death sentence was converted to banishment on pain of Ren following every one of his father’s directives and Teo never again seeing Ren.

In many senses a death sentence would have been a kinder fate for Teo, but it would have hurt Ren more and Teo couldn’t bear the thought of that.

The carriage slowed to a halt and Teo felt a fresh stab of fear lance through him. They’d left Officer Kor far behind them. If there was another ambush, no unexpected savior was going to spring up to fight for him.

“What’s happened?” he asked, calling out more softly than he meant to.

“We’re far enough away from the fray and the horses need a rest,” the driver said. “No good hiding spots here either, so we can wait a bit and see if the captain catches up with us.”

“The captain?” Teo asked.

“You call her ‘Officer Kor’,” the driver said. Teo heard him get down off the front seat and walk forward.

“Do you need any help with the horses?” Teo asked, raising his voice so the driver could hear him.

“Sure, if you know how to set a harness,” the driver said.

“I do,” Teo said and pushed himself through the last vestiges of icy fear that froze him to the seat.

Outside, he saw that the carriage was resting in a large sloping field. The driver had moved them over to a well trampled area near a small stream that ran beside the road. Beyond that, short blue and yellow and green grasses swayed in the breeze.

Here and there flocks of sheep wandered about, kept together by grey elven shepherds and their canine companions. The other side of the road was much the same, but without the stream and with the added presence of small, sparsely placed houses woven together from isolated stands of trees. Ambushers might hide in the tree houses but even from there they would face a long gap to get to their targets on the road.

“We had a hard run, make sure none of the leathers come loose,” the driver said.

Teo took the horse the driver wasn’t working on and began to inspect the harness and gear that tied it to the carriage as he had done countless times with the Telli horses. Pages didn’t normally have duties like that, but Teo was so inseparable from Ren, that he would up attending to a variety of duties to buy them more time together.

“Why do you call Officer Kor ‘the Captain’?” Teo asked as he worked on the horse.

“Whatever rank she holds, she’ll always be my Captain,” the driver said.

“You’ve served with her before?” Teo asked.

“Served under,” the driver said. “She was our leader at Star’s Watch Keep when it fell.”

“What happened to Star’s Watch Keep?” Teo asked. Beyond the fact that his life had been focused on Ren for the last few years, Teo had never been one to pay much attention to the various skirmishes his adopted kingdom became embroiled in. Aside from a brief period six years previous when a bloody civil war had flared across the kingdom, Teo’s life had been untouched by the ravages of armed conflict.

“Paxmer,” the driver said. “Paxmer happened to Star’s Watch Keep.”

Pieces of overheard information fell into place, enough for Teo to hazard a guess at what had occurred.

“Star’s Watch was a border keep wasn’t it?” Teo asked. “It was one of the ones lost during the Unification War.”

“Unification War, heh. That’s what people call it now,” the driver said. “The war we fought was never about unification though.”

The driver spit the word “unification” out like it was formed of toxic bile.

“I don’t mean to pry, but I gather that Officer Kor deserves more recognition for the role she played than she’s received?” Teo asked.

“She’d disagree with that notion, but I don’t.” the driver said.

“What did she do there?” Teo asked, trying to picture what a conflict on the border between Gallagrin and its neighboring country to the south would look like.

“I could you tell you stories, lot’s of stories, but the big thing is what she didn’t do,” the driver said.

“I think I’d like to hear those stories,” Teo said. “Unless I miss my guess they’re the kind of stories more people should know about than do.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” the driver said. “What’s your name vampire?”

“Joe,” Teo said, thinking of the advice he’d received. “Though if you’re a friend Officer Kor’s then it would be more accurate to call me Teo.”

The driver smiled, a twinkle in his eye suggesting that he recognized Teo’s reference.

“Well you can call me Joe too,” the driver said, “Or if you want to be accurate then you could go with Sol.”

“So what was it that your Captain didn’t do that stands out for you Sol?” Teo asked.

“She didn’t run,” Sol said.

“That’s an admirable quality in a leader, but Star’s Watch was destroyed anyways wasn’t it?” Teo asked.

“It was burned,” Sol said.

“Why?” Teo asked. “I thought, when border keeps were captured, the invading army tried to keep them intact to use against the enemy side?”

“That’s the standard doctrine,” Sol said. “It’s how changes in the boundaries are made to stick, and in Gallagrin’s case, if you don’t have a stronghold to work from, the mountains will kill you.”

“I’m confused then, why take the town only to destroy it?” Teo asked. “Especially when we wound up as allies with Paxmer by the end of the war. The attackers had to know that was coming, didn’t they?”

“I’m sure they knew that was one of the plans,” Sol said. “But in the early days of the civil war, it wasn’t clear who was going to win, so when Paxmer decided to join into the little duskup we were having, they came with the main purpose of destroying our ability to invade them, just in case the wrong side won. I think they didn’t care about claiming territory at that point because it might have united us all against them instead of letting us fight each other..”

“Oh yes, that’s what started the whole civil war wasn’t it?” Teo asked. “The Butcher King wanted to invade Paxmer.”

“Sure, that’s one of the stories they put out,” Sol said. “But we didn’t hear about that until after the war was done. All we knew was that one morning we were in the clear and then next there were forty thousand troops advancing on our gates.”

“That’s a big army isn’t it?” Teo asked.

“Big enough,” Sol said. “Star’s Watch was designed to hold the pass it sat in against any army Paxmer could assault the place with, but that was before people knew about the kind of siege weapons you could make by binding pact spirits to catapults and trebuchets.”

“They smashed through the walls?” Teo asked, guessing at why the keep had fallen.

“They could have, but the Captain led a night raid out and burned all the ones they’d moved up to the front lines,” Sol said.

“That sounds incredibly dangerous,” Teo said picturing a raiding party fighting into a camp of forty thousand soldiers to destroy heavy machinery.

“It was,” Sol said. “The Captain fights like a damn demon, but even that only got half the raid party back to the keep.”

“You said she burned all the siege weapons, so how did the keep fall?” Teo asked.

“After they lost the siege machines, the Paxers called one of their Dragon Generals to the front lines,” Sol said.

“Dragon General?” Teo asked. “Is that like a Pact Knight?”

“Yes and no,” Sol said. “Dragon Generals are as tough as our Pact Knights, so about ten times better than your standard Pact Warrior, but they don’t bind themselves to a pact spirit.”

“Ten times better than a Pact Warrior?” Teo asked. “Who can stand against something like that?”

Even well fed, and driven by the deepest blood compulsion, Teo wasn’t sure he would be able to fight something as powerful as what Sol described.

“The Captain, for one,” Sol said. “That’s why she took his challenge when he issued it.”

“What was the challenge for?” Teo asked.

“The terms were single combat, between the two of them,” Sol said. “The prize was the loser’s life.”

“Why would your Captain take a fight on terms like that?” Teo asked.

“Because when it came to a battle, the General was going to be able to kill a lot of us regular troops before she was able to join with him,” Sol said. “She could do the same to their side but they had a lot more troops to spend on a fight than we did.”

“So dueling with him was her best chance to end the threat that he posed.”

“It was,” Sol said. “Or it should have been.”

“What happened?”

“They met outside the gate to the Keep, just the two of them,” Sol said. “We were all watching from the keep’s walls but the Captain told us she would personally flay us alive if we interfered in the fight.”

“Did she win?” Teo asked. “I mean she’s still alive so she must have right?”

“She should have won,” Sol said. “Watching them two of them fight was like nothing I’d ever seen, and to be honest I have no idea which of the two was better, but by all that’s holy, the Captain should have won.”

“But she didn’t?” Teo said.

“She didn’t,” Sol said. “She was doing well, but then the General called in his trump and everything fell apart.”

Teo tried to put together what Sol had told him so far and came up with one horrifying possibility.

“You said he was a Dragon General?” Teo said.

“Yes, and I’m betting you can guess what that means,” Sol said.

“He called in a dragon,” Teo said, blinking in disbelief at the idea.

“One of the Ancients. Like I said Star’s Watch didn’t fall.”

Teo saw tears well up in the older man’s eyes as the memories drew Sol back to that day six years prior.

“It burned.”

Teo sat in the back of the armored carriage, staring through the tight, iron bars that secured the windows and wondered which of the many poor life choices he’d made were to blame for his current predicament.

Trusting in the odd Dawn March officer who’d saved his life and rented him a secure room had seemed like a reasonable choice. She couldn’t be on the Duke’s side, not if the Duke was having her followed by an assassin. She hadn’t acted like she was following the same master as the rest of the Dawn March either. Their conversations, both in the alley and at the monberry shop held the wrong tenor for that.

But she’d arrested him. It wasn’t even an arrest-in-name-only either. He’d tried to leave the monberry shop on his own and Officer Kor had produced her pact blade and marched him at swordpoint into the Dawn March barracks. There’d been paperwork and a deposition and a flurry of legal things which Teo had never even heard of. All he was certain of in the end was that the woman he’d thought could be a valuable ally had made sure to drag as many of the Dawn March through the tiny interrogation room as she could.

Over and over she’d had him repeat the basics of his story, each time allowing the Dawn March personnel to ask whatever questions they wished. Most seemed to be intrigued by his relationship with Ren, but none of them had the first inkling of how a vampire bond worked.

That wasn’t entirely surprising. Vampires didn’t tend to go out of their way to describe their feeding habits. There was no rule against speaking on the subject, but in Teo’s case, the act was so intimate that he had no desire to discuss it with strangers.

When they asked, as they inevitably did, about how much blood he drank and how his “victim” survived the feeding, he responded with the barest of facts.

When he fed, Teo drank less than a pint of blood. His partner, and he always corrected “victim” to “partner”, was tired and spent afterwards but within a day was feeling better and within a week was back to their full strength. Teo “fed” like that only once a month at most, and often went longer to ensure his partner’s safety.

That sort of routine was at odds with what people expected to hear. In their minds vampires fed constantly and were the most unrepentant of killers when they did so. Teo couldn’t deny that there were unrepentant vampiric killers but that tended to occur when you took an unrepentant mortal killer and converted them to vampirism.

For those more knowledgeable about vampires, this wasn’t that surprising. While a vampire was given greatly enhanced physical capabilities and senses, their core persona remained as it was. Those who fell into corrupt and violent behaviors were either practicing such before hand or wished to do so but were constrained by their lack of power.

Teo had an added advantage there however, his bloodline was looked on as being one of the “safe” breeds. All vampires were driven by a passion that was central to their nature. That was was what allowed them to survive the transition from mortal to undying. In Teo’s case that passion, his core hunger, was for intimacy.

The Dawn March officers joked that he was a ‘sex vampire” and not so different from any of them. In practice though, sex was only the barest, least sustaining part of what Teo hungered for. The connection he needed was one of the mind, body and spirit. It wasn’t love, or at least not the sort that people wrote pretty poems about.

When he’d been given the gift, the Blood Mother who woke him explained that what she offered was not a peaceful, harmonious blessing. There were horrible people who bore the Blood of the Bare Heart, vampires who had bonded with a mortal and then turned their backs on the rest of the Mindful Races entirely. Teo had scoffed at the idea but in the years since then he’d seen how easy it could take root. With Ren at the center of his life, it would have been easy to lose care or interest in anyone else.

Even under the current circumstances, Teo knew that it if came to choosing between Ren and kingdom, then the kingdom would burn. The sole hold that he had on his sanity was the line of thought that ran from the Duke banishing Ren to the notion that so long as Ren was away from his father’s sphere of influence then the Duke would have no reason to do his son any harm.

If that changed though? Teo knew he would do something idiotic. The best that he could hope for would be to take down some of the threats to Ren before being put down himself. It wasn’t much to hope for, but Teo knew his limitations.

He kept that particular kernel of his psyche hidden from the Dawn March. No sense letting the Duke know that he could control Teo that easily if he turned his mind to it. Not that the Duke needed a vampire on his payroll. As far as Teo knew, Duke Telli had the Nath division of the Dawn March to draw on in time of need, in addition to his own personal troops, the city guard and quite probably a contingent of the royal forces, given the favor King Halreck showed him.

With that sort of backing there was very little that could inconvenience the Duke and nothing that Teo could think of that could seriously threaten him.

Not even a vampire on a mission of vengeance.

When he was a boy, Teo couldn’t have imagined seeking vengeance on the Duke. The Telli family had been his salvation when his natural one failed him. He was never clear on the specifics, he’d been too young to know at the time, but what he’d pieced together later was that his Inchesso family had wound up on the wrong side of a vendetta. Knowing that the end was nigh, they’d shipped several of their children off to other countries as pages or clerics assistants or even pact squires.

Teo had spent months longing to return home when he first arrived at Elinspire, the resort estate for the Telli family. That changed the day the final letter arrived from Inchesso for him. It told him in clear, simple terms that his home was gone. His family had fallen before a bigger, more powerful syndicate and his title and position were no more.

There was an attempted assassination a month later, spies for the rival family managed to infiltrate the castle and were ready to put an end to an errant heir who might cause trouble a generation down the line. The attempt would have succeeded to but the Telli house guards caught the assassins and the Duke made such a brutal public spectacle of them that no more attempts were made.

Even at a young age, Teo understood that the Duke’s reaction was not because he wished to protect Teo but because the assassins had threatened something that Duke Telli considered part of his property.

At the time Teo was delighted to think of himself as belonging to the Duke. It made him feel protected and worthy. As the years passed though, he began to see what it meant to be someone else’s property.

Strangely perhaps, it was the Duke’s behavior towards his children that bothered Teo far more than how the Duke treated him. Each of them were mishandled and mal-cared for by the nobleman and each showed the scars he left on them in their own manner.

Ren, the youngest son, drew inwards, his voice vanishing for weeks at a time without anyone being aware that he hadn’t spoke a single word. Or at least anyone except Teo.

Their relationship had started at different times. For Teo, the first time he saw Ren, he was struck by the boys quiet presence. Teo saw the wordless youth and yearned to bridge the silent chasm between them. Their time together was limited at first, but it grew over the years, as did their regard for each other. The beginning of their acknowledged relationship was hard to place as well. Ren suggested it was the first time they’d kissed, but that had been on a dare and signified little at the time except for their solidarity against the mad whims of Ren’s sister.

Rather than a single event, Teo thought of it as the gentle changing of the seasons. The two of them had been close, and then moved closer in such small steps that no one day held a particularly important declaration of love. Teo couldn’t even remember the first time he’d told Ren that he loved him. The words passed easily between them, changing naturally from professions of companionable affection to a deeper more enduring acknowledgement of the commitment they’d made to each other through their deeds rather than mere words.

There wasn’t anyone else Teo could imagine giving his heart to, so when the Blood Mother had told him what the price would be for his continued life the only question he’d asked had been addressed to Ren.

It hadn’t been a proposal. It hadn’t been a declaration of passion either. Not precisely at any rate.

“We’ve been together for a long time,” Teo said. “I won’t leave you now. I will take the gift the Blessed One offers. But I will not ask that you take the other end of the burden. Will you stay free of this pledge? May we continue with each other as we have been? You are too precious to me for there to be any yoke of obligation laid between us.”

Ren had answered in his customary soft voice but with a firmness to his words which Teo rarely heard there.

“No. We cannot continue on as we have been,” Ren said. “All things change, and so must we. Already I carry an obligation to you. With no one else can I find the joy that I can with you. No one else lives within me as you do. You are forever in my thoughts and forever in my heart. There is no burden that you can carry which I will not feel the weight of as well. If you will have me, I will carry your heart, as you already carry mine.”

Of all the decisions Teo ever made, that one alone he was perfectly sure of, even though it had led him eventually to a cage of misery, far from the one he loved.

A cage which abruptly shuddered and came to a rough stop.

“What happened?” Teo asked the carriage driver.

“A tree just fell across the road,” the driver said, a disturbing lack of surprise in his voice.

There was a thunk on the side of the carriage, followed by three more just like it. Arrows. They’d punched through the walls of the carriage. So they were enchanted. The searing hot flames on their tips gave that away too.

“And there would be the archers, right on queue,” the driver said.

“We’re under attack?” Tero asked, knowing that it was a foolish question. Officer Kor had assured him that she would would be the first target of any assassins that were sent out, but the Duke apparently had enough that he could afford to detail a contingent to deal with an errant ex-page as well.

Not that Teo knew for certain the Duke was connected with the assassins or their misdoings, but after the beating the Duke gave him, not to mention separating Teo from Ren, the vampire wasn’t in a particularly charitable mood towards the nobleman.

“You’re on your own for this one,” the carriage driver said.

“Wait! I’m still locked in here!” Teo said.

“He wasn’t talking to you,” Daelynne said from on top of the carriage. Her voice sounded strange and inhuman. As a vampire, Teo wasn’t used to unnatural things sending a chill down his spine but he shivered at her words nonetheless.

A moment later, as she dropped from the top of the carriage to the ground and began advancing on the ambushers, Teo saw why he’d been instinctively afraid.

Daelynne was garbed in her armor and she walked with a bearing that screamed for mayhem. The ambushers had one hope of surviving the encounter. They needed their own Pact Warrior. Even if they had one though Teo wasn’t sure if that would be enough to save them. There was a hunger that radiated off Daelynne that put his own vampire constitution to shame.

The monberry shop on the corner of the Dyemakers Road and Lowhill Street offered no defenses for the patrons and no protection for eavesdropping. The colorful wooden tables and chairs were laid out within a moderately-sized railed-in area that allowed the customers to both see and be seen. For those seeking to rendezvous with friends or associates the setup was ideal. For those seeking to hold a clandestine conversation it was decidedly less so.

“I have to confess,” Teo said. “This is not quite what I expected when you said we needed to continue our conversation somewhere safer.”

“You don’t feel safe here?” Dae asked. She took a long, slow pull from her lemon water and watched the vampire fidget.

“I feel exposed,” Teo said. “This is too public, we’re going to be seen.”

“There are a number of spots we could be observed from,” Dae said. “And with most of them we couldn’t even tell if someone was watching us.”

“And yet you brought us here from that lovely, little, secluded alley,” Teo said. “Shouldn’t I at least be wearing my hat?”

“Not with the great big umbrella we have overhead,” Dae said. “Plus that would defeat the purpose of this.”

“You want us to be seen,” Teo said, understanding flickering to life in his eyes. “You want anyone who was following you to know you’ve spoken to me specifically.”

“It’s for your own good,” Dae said.

“How do I profit from this?” Teo asked.

“You have information I lack,” Dae said. “If you give it all to me, then it will be too late for anyone to kill you.”

“I think anyone foolish enough to tail a member of the Dawn March in her own city would be happy to kill me out of spite,” Teo said.

“Probably,” Dae said. “You’re could be the one loose end they need to tie up , but if I’m right and you’re seen talking with me now there won’t be quite the sense of urgency involved in silencing you.”

“You seem to know quite a lot about what’s going on,” Teo said. “Do you even need the information I carry?”

“I don’t know all that much,” Dae said. “What I have is a lot of guesses based on weak evidence. With luck, you can help turn those into actual clues.”

“I’m afraid what I know is largely unsupported as well,” Teo said.

“I’m not looking for trial-ready testimony,” Dae said. “I just need to know who to keep an eye on.”

“That will be challenging in this instance,” Teo said. “I’m gifted at tracking people and the one following you eluded me.”

“We’ll see about that in a bit,” Dae said. “For now though explain why you were out in the tempest last night?”

“As I said, I was searching for a group of merchants from Inchesso,” Teo said. “Or at least people who were traveling as merchants.”

“Since you don’t seem the type to follow people for their snack potential, I’m going to assume that there was something special about these merchants which attracted your attention?” Dae placed her lemon water on the table and stretched her left arm across her chest to loosen  her shoulder muscles. A glance around the plaza they were in confirmed her suspicions that her quarry wasn’t in place yet.

“They carried no merchandise,” Teo said. He drank from his cup of hot monberry as though the stuff was as precious as the blood his body actually craved. With any other drink such behavior would have attracted attention but it was how the rest of the patrons of the shop consumed the beverage as well.

“Perhaps they were traveling to purchase their wares in Nath and bring the merchandise back to Inchesso?” Dae asked.

“Possible, but unusual,” Teo said. “Most merchants try to make money in both directions of a trading route. Bring to Gallagrin goods that are plentiful in Inchesso and then return to Inchesso with goods found only here.”

“Odd to pass up that sort of profit but you saw something else that tipped you off, didn’t you?” Dae said.

“I was traveling to Nath on the roads from Elinspire when I first met them at a Traders house where road from the Inchesso border joins up,” Teo said. “I overheard them muttering in Cascalain, one of the dialects I’m familiar with. I tried to join in on their conversation but they rebuked me and fled to their rooms for the evening.”

“Not an atypical response to encountering a vampire on the road I would imagine?” Dae asked.

“In hindsight, no, it was not, but it did pique my interest in them,” Teo said. “I might have forgotten all about them though as the hurt feelings faded if I hadn’t run into them one more time, at the Gailman’s Bridge checkpoint.”

“Did they see you there?” Dae asked.

“No,” Teo said. “I was being somewhat aloof. I didn’t have the toll needed to pass the bridge.”

“Gailman’s is a Royal bridge,” Dae said. “There’s not supposed to be a toll to use Royal bridges.”

With Gallagrin being a land of mountains, and gorges, and wide, powerful rivers, the maintenance and defense of its bridges was a serious cause for a concern. And a serious opportunity for those seeking to supplement their income.

“Yes, someone should tell the Duke about it,” Teo said. “Though it’s probable that he already knows as the ‘merchants’ bore a letter which allowed them to pass unhindered.”

“And you believe he wrote it?” Dae asked.

“Gailman’s Bridge is on Telli land. Apart from the Duke’s, the only seal a letter like that could carry which would have enough force to carry the bearer through is the King’s or Queen’s and as you say, the Royal bridges are supposed to allow free passage, so why would they pen a writ of passage for just one group?”

“Several possible reasons I can think of,” Dae said. “At least on the King’s side. But I can tell that you’re story is not done yet.”

“Indeed,” Teo said. “The incident at the bridge left me with a deeper curiosity as to the merchants motivations and connections so I followed them.”

“I’ve read that vampires are superlative hunters,” Dae said, stretching her right shoulder muscles. Her eyes glanced briefly upwards as she did so and a predatory grin rippled over her lips.

All of the curtains on the second floor of the Hotel Weskette which lay across the plaza were drawn open. All of them except one.

Dae was delighted to see this because it was just the kind of mistake an out-of-towner might make when doing a quick survey of the environment. Twenty minutes earlier the curtains at the Weskette had all been drawn shut. The second floor rooms were rented by the hour though, so the cleaning staff did multiple passes through them and left the curtains open to show their availability for occupancy, a fact Dae had learned on an earlier case which had taken nearly a crate of the worst bilge she could find to blur her memories of. She would have to check with the reception desk at the Weskette, but her gut told her that it was very likely that her mystery pursuer was watching her and Teo as they spoke.

“Hunting prowess is an innate aspect of our condition,” Teo said. “It’s much easier to be silent when your heart is absent.”

“And what did your pursuit reveal?” Dae asked.

“That for as talented as my natural abilities make me, the ‘merchants’ are somehow better,” Teo said. “I lost them twice on the trip to Nath. Both times I recovered their trail only by exerting myself to get ahead of them and lying in wait at choke points they were required to pass through.”

“That’s unusually skillful for a group of merchants,” Dae said and asked, “How many traveled in their company.”

“A half dozen,” Teo said. “Or a half dozen that I could see. As things went, I can’t swear that there weren’t other traveling with them as outriders. That may have been how they were able to throw me off the trail.”

“That’s an impressively large group to hide from a pursuing vampire,” Dae said. “What did they do once they reached Nath?”

“They took up residence in the Low Quarters,” Teo said. “They didn’t stay in any one location long, but they visited the same taverns repeatedly.”

“Did you approach them again?” Dae asked. They were too far from the Weskette for any observer to understand what they were saying, but luring her mark in closer seemed an unlikely prospect from Dae’s perspective. Whatever her pursuers orders were they didn’t include open mayhem in the light of day on the streets of Nath by all appearances.

“No, I wanted to get a sense of what brought them to Nath and I doubted they would be very forthcoming,” Teo said.

“Why the trip into the rain then?” Dae asked.

“I followed them earlier that day to the Duke’s castle,” Teo said. “I feared his life might be in danger but they proceeded into the palace under the same letter they showed at the bridge checkpoint.”

“Why would you fear for the Duke’s life?” Dae asked.

“My countrymen’s reputation as poisoners and cutthroats is largely incorrect but not wholly unearned,” Teo said. “When someone wishes to hire an assassin, I am afraid to say that Inchesso is often where they turn.”

“So what happened when the merchants left the castle?” Dae asked.

“I don’t know,” Teo said. “I waited for the rest of the morning, and through the afternoon for them to emerge but I saw no further sign of them. That’s why I was revisiting the locales I’d seen them in and inquiring if they’d been by that evening.”

“And then you ran afoul of the Watch,” Dae said.

“Not to mention a most unusual member of the Dawn March,” Teo said. “This morning, when I felt recovered, I returned to my roost overlooking the castle’s main gate. I saw you enter and I saw one of the ‘merchants’ take up a perch perilously near my own. When you emerged he began to follow you, and I to follow him, and that brings us to where we sit presently.”

“Not quite,” Dae said. “There’s some bad blood between you and the Duke otherwise you would have gone to him with your concerns right away.”

“Once, maybe,” Teo said. “But I am no longer welcome in his home or his holdings. By rights I shouldn’t even be here.”

“What offense did you commit against him?” Dae asked.

“I loved unwisely,” Teo said.

“That would be Ren I take it?” Dae asked.

Teo nodded, but didn’t speak.

“What was your position in the household?” Dae asked.

“I was given to Duke Telli as a page when I was young,” Teo said. “I rarely saw him, so I can not claim to have much connection with the man, but I attended to his children often.”

“As a vampire?” Dae asked.

“No, that came later,” Teo said. “I was badly injured in a hunt when I was fifteen. The Duke ordered me left where I lay, believing my wounds to be fatal. He was probably correct but Ren disagreed with him and stayed behind to tend to me. He kept me alive until the witching hour stole in and the Blood Mother found us.”

“Is that why Ren has your heart?” Dae asked.

“No,” Teo said. “It was his long before then.”

“And the Duke wasn’t fond of this arrangement I take it?” Dae asked.

“Duke Telli doesn’t pay much attention to his youngest son,” Teo said. “We were together for years and nothing was said of it. It wasn’t until a few weeks ago that he ‘discovered’ us and cast me out.”

“And what happened to Ren?” Dae asked.

“I don’t know,” Teo said. “I imagine at least banished from their home at Elinspire. The Duke was ranting about that as he beat me.”

“Does Ren have somewhere else to go?” Dae asked.

“His mother’s kin, though the Duke did not provide for them overly well from what I have overheard,” Teo said.

“You were traveling to Nath when you encountered your countrymen,” Dae said. “Why?”

“I sought to plead with the Duke,” Teo said. “Not for myself but for Ren. I thought he might believe that everything he saw and heard was because my vampiric nature had taken over and that Ren was blameless.”

“That would have left  quite a burden on you,” Dae said.

“Yes, well, I planned to leap into the great fire pit in the center of the Duke’s hall to prove my words,” Teo said, “But it’s come to me that such a plan may not produce quite the result I was hoping for.”

“No, I suspect it wouldn’t,” Dae said.

“So where does that leave us?” Teo asked.

“That leaves me to track down some more information and, hopefully, be assaulted by one or more Inchesso assassins,” Dae said. “You on the other hand will get to enjoy the Queen’s hospitality while you are under arrest.”

There are times when people make innocent, harmless mistakes which nonetheless cost them their lives. Trying to appear at Dae’s side in a nonchalant manner was nearly such an error in judgement on Teo’s part. Dae released a long slow breath, grateful for the warning Kirios had provided her. Without that she would have acted on reflex, and an unthinking response from a Pact Warrior could have lethal consequences.

“Hello Teo,” she said, keeping her voice neutral. “Why are you here?”

The continued to walk forward, passing through the crowded streets without drawing much interest from the people of Nath who scurried around them to errands and chores and the business of everyday life. In Dae’s case that was because her cloak covered all of the Dawn March heraldry she wore. As far as anyone in the crowds was concerned she was just another brown figure in a sea of brown and grey and green cloaks. Perhaps noticeably shorter than most humans and nearly a halfling when compared to the elves around her, but that made her even less of a concern to them.

Teo would have stood out more. He was tall and lean and handsome. And also a vampire. In particular point of fact, a starving vampire, so that his skin was drawn in and his eyes were solid red pools with throbbing lines of blood radiating from them like a spider web mask. People didn’t pay others much attention in Nath, but hungry predators garner interest no matter where they might be. Unless, of course, their features are concealed behind the sort of half-mask which nobles tend to employ when they need to venture out in the morning sunlight while bearing a terrible hangover. The wide brimmed hat Teo wore, to further shield himself from the day’s bright and clear rays, also served the dual purposes of practicality and camouflage. Beyond disguising him and reducing his exposure, it allowed him to blend in with the crowd easily as the look had caught on in Nath after His Grace the Duke Telli was seen favoring the broad and shady head coverings following his return from a trip to Paxmer and Inchesso.

“You’ve been to the castle,” Teo said. “Have a nice chat with the Duke?”

“No,” Dae said and stepped out into the road to move around a group of customers at a sidewalk sweets stall. The aroma of freshly ground monberry tugged at her, but her steps didn’t waver. The hot beverage smelled so delicious and yet tasted like rat vomit to her. People swore by its effects but the vile black goop held no allure for her beyond its damnable scent.

“That’s a shame,” Teo said. “I’m sure he found it stimulating.”

“Why were you following me Teo?” Dae asked. They were still a significant distance from the barracks. That complicated Dae’s desire to drag the vampire into a holding cell by his ears and shake him until he gave her the straight answers he clearly possessed.

“I wasn’t,” Teo said. For the day being a bright and sunny one, he was still moving well and able to keep up with her, despite Dae quickening her pace. “I was following the man who was following you.”

Dae felt her blood warm and the ghost of an old smile dance along her lips. She hadn’t expected the players to start moving so quickly, but then they’d already claimed their first victim, so the game was well along and it seemed she was the one who running slow still.

“And why were you following him?” Dae asked. She checked with Kirios but her spirit offered no sense of someone else observing them. Dae knew her Pact’s limitations though. She was not a bloodhound or a spy. Kirios could alert her to potential dangers, sometimes, but he was not infallible or preternaturally observant.

“Because I don’t trust him,” Teo said. “Or the company which he travels with.”

“And you’re telling me this because?” Dae asked. The crowds were denser along Riverman’s Road, which offered a chance to shake off anyone who was following her, but Dae held to the main thoroughfare. The Riverman’s Road was a terrible place for a battle, and Dae held a faint hope that Teo’s pursuer might prove to be both real and stupid enough to attack her before she reached the Dawn March barracks. She could learn so very much from someone who made that sort of mistake.

“Because no one followed you into the castle but someone followed you out, and they weren’t watching for me or anyone else who was following you,” Teo said.

Meaning the person who followed her from the castle wasn’t a guard or an unseen wingman.

“Where did you lose sight of them?” Dae asked.

“On top of the Chapel of the Green Mother,” Teo said.

“Were you both traveling by rooftop?” Dae asked.

“Yes,” Teo answered and split away from her to allow a mule and the wagon behind it to pass in the opposite direction. Dae kept her attention focused forward but she felt a pang that Teo wouldn’t rejoin her at the other side of the train of mule carts. If someone was working against her, they couldn’t afford to allow her any access to information and taking Teo out immediately would be the smartest play they could make.

Paranoia sounded could make her think things like that, but Dae felt a sense of calm that didn’t normally co-exist with with unreasoning fear. She’d been absorbing details and information since Javan dragged her out of her apartment and in the back of her mind small pieces were falling into place. It wasn’t accurate to say that gave her a picture of what was going on, more that she could see the outlines of the board the events were occurring on.

She walked forward, letting her awareness drift outwards and taking in as much as she could while one heavily laden cart after another passed her by, heading back towards the castle to restock the party deleted larders therein.

By her side Lorenzo Lialarus walked, if not in body or ectoplasmic ghostly form, then as a quieter sort of spirit. Through the small elements of his life and death, Dae felt the Inchesso prince speaking to her, helping her unravel the mystery that his passing left behind.

Hours in the water does hideous things to a body. So do knife wounds to the throat. More importantly though, Lorenzo said, neither was the result of impetuous action.

If the boy had angered someone enough to kill him in a fit of rage he would bear one or more stab wounds. That’s what people with sharp weapons did when their blood was boiling. The Dawn March chirurgeon would be able to tell her for certain, but Dae hadn’t seen signs of puncture wounds on Lorenzo’s body when castle workers pulled it from the moat.

The wound to the neck was singular and deep. The kind of cut that someone makes when they are very sure of what they are doing. A skilled fencer could manage a slice like that in certain circumstances, but the most likely explanation was that Lorenzo’s murderer had been able to get into position near the boy either via stealth or because the Inchesso prince had lacked any reason to suspect an attack.

A hand over the mouth, a blade drawn rapidly across an exposed neck, and Lorenzo could have been dead before he was even aware he was in danger. Dae hoped that was the case. Better that he perish at the hands of an expert than to endure the pain and terror of a fumbling attempt on his life which ultimately succeeded.

It would be impossible to know how quickly the work was done, only Lorenzo’s ghost and the one who held the blade could tell that tale, but there was another part to the story that might still be revealed; where the murder had taken place.

Lorenzo would have had no reason to venture outside into the storm wracked castle grounds. Not on a night of lively dancing and music. Even a brief trip out into the tempest would have left his clothes unsuitable for further merriment. By the same token however, he must have left the party at some point as, drunk though they might have been, the revelers would have noticed a sudden arterial spray in the midst.

If all had gone according to a usual festival plan, the boy would have departed the castle with the entourage he arrived with, the Denarius Consortium. They might tell any number of stories as to the boy’s fate. As his sponsors for the event there were only a few that might excuse them from responsibility for the prince’s demise.

Dae assumed they would try for a story that the boy had not left with them at all but had been beguiled by a Gallagrin noble woman and had left in her company instead. The request of a Gallagrin noble would be outside the scope of a foreign merchant company to refuse or contest and many judges would have sympathy for the lurid subtext of sending a young boy off with an experienced woman.

Whatever story the Denarius Consortium told though, their connection to Lorenzo was a thread to tease and pull on until the truth was revealed. Dae didn’t know if the Consortium held the boy’s murderer but she was certain they were connected to the matter somehow. What she needed was as many threads of information as she could find to help trip them up in the little lies they would feel compelled to tell.

“My apologies,” Teo said, rejoining her as the last of the mule carts passed. “There are so many about this morning that unimpeded traffic is difficult.”

“But you didn’t fly away,” Dae said  glancing over and catching his gaze. “That’s good.”

Teo’s eyes widened and his stride took him an extra inch or two away from her, the sort of positioning one might adopt if running away seemed unexpectedly called for but might also provoke a dangerous creature into giving chase.

“There is an unkindness in your eyes,” Teo said, looking resolutely ahead.

“That’s because I’m thinking unkind thoughts,” Dae said. She didn’t need to scare Teo, but she hoped her honesty might shake him out of his need to be cryptic and mysterious.

“Having seen what you’re unkindness can do, I find myself unsettled,” Teo said.

“Last night I was in a forgiving mood,” Dae said. “You haven’t seen me be unkind yet.”

“Perhaps that will be called for before this is over,” Teo said. “I merely hope that your ire will be well focused when directed at those who are deserving of it.”

“That’s a nice thing to hope for,” Dae said and changed course, leading them down a narrow alley which ran perpendicular to the road towards the barracks.

“I’m not sure this is safe,” Teo said. “I lost the man who was following you, but I cannot say that he was alone.”

“I hope he wasn’t,” Dae said. “But it’s looking like I might be disappointed.”

“Disappointed in what?” Teo asked.

“In you? In the person following me? Who’s to say,” Dae stopped and blocked Teo’s progress in the alley.

“What are we doing here?” Teo asked.

“We need somewhere to talk and before we do that, I need to know how you’re connected to all this,” Dae said.

“And so you chose this place to question me?” Teo asked.

“Look at the walls here,” Dae said. “What do you notice?”

“They are brick,” Teo said.

“Yes, and what don’t they have?” Dae asked.

“Oh, I see,” Teo said. “No windows, so no one can listen to us easily.”

“Also the roofs are high enough that someone perched above won’t hear us over the din of the street traffic,” Dae said.

“How do you know?” Teo asked.

“Because I’ve trailed people to this alley before and tried to eavesdrop on them and it was miserable,” Dae said. “But that’s not important. What I need to know is why were you in the Low Quarter last night?”

“I was searching for some men,” Teo said.

“And you found some, but not the ones you were looking for,” Dae said.

“This is true,” Teo said. “The ones I was looking for were foreigners from Inchesso. Dressed as merchants, but they were not.”

“And why were you looking for them?” Dae asked.

“Because they were dangerous and they seemed intent on bringing that danger to the Duke’s court,” Teo said.

Dae considered that for a long moment. Did she have any specific reason to trust the vampire aside from her instincts? Maybe. The beating he’d taken had been real and he still bore the signs of it. Of all the people in the city, he was the one person who couldn’t have killed Lorenzo.

“Why didn’t you warn the Duke of them directly?” Dae asked. “Or speak to the guard captain at least.”

“I am known to the Duke,” Lorenzo said, looking away from her. “He bears no love for me, though that is due to my own folly.”

“How did you offend His Grace?” Dae asked.

“Rendolan, his second son,” the words were slow to come, as though they had to cross a vast divide to reach Teo’s lips.

“I hadn’t heard of any trouble with Duke’s children?” Dae asked.

“Trouble comes in many forms,” Teo said. “Ren is my…was my…I am bound to him.”

“Bound to him?” Dae asked. Her lessons in vampires were sketchy enough that she couldn’t be certain that she knew exactly what he meant, and with magicked creatures it was never wise to be anything less than perfectly clear with meanings.

“When you offered to let me take your blood,” Teo said. “I couldn’t. I can only share in his life.”

The vampire looks up and though his eyes were the pure crimson lakes, Dae saw not hunger but fear and hope mingled there.

“So long as he keeps my heart.”

While the noble family connected to a castle might differ from other families, there were similar patterns that played out in the day to day running of any such fortress which Dae found comforting. In the wake of the Royal Celebration, the staff of Castle Nath was working at a rapid pace, cleaning up and restocking to return things to a semblance of their normal mode of operation.

Years, or a lifetime ago, Dae had loved the lazy, slow day the aftermath of a grand feast brought. With the excitement of the feast passed, the nobility could enjoy a brief serenity after days of hussle and bussle. The staff did not have that luxury though. The meals still needed to be made, the rooms still needed to be cleaned, and so cooks chopped and skinned and sliced and cleaners swept and washed and dusted.

With their near ubiquitous presence, any of the castle’s personnel might have been able to recognize the dead boy, and a large fraction of those could probably put a name to his face as well. The number who would admit that however was much smaller. Officially, the staff had no presence or interaction with the nobles or their guests outside of a few very specific roles the staff could play. To question them directly about one of the guests would be to pull them into a dangerous arena where anyone who was unhappy with their testimony was likely to be able to silence them without any real effort.

Being unable, or at least unwilling, to question the staff however did not mean Dae couldn’t observe them as she walked through the castle. The chamberlain had bid her to meet him at his office, an area she had yet to visit in her previous trips to the castle. While the chamberlain had provided clear directions, Dae found it enlightening to delay her arrival and get a bit lost inside the noble environs. With her Dawn March heraldry clearly visible, all she needed to do was walk as though heading somewhere purposefully and no one questioned her passing.

In her travels through the grand structure of Castle Nath, she observed a pensive air that hung around everyone from the groundskeepers to the candle tenders to the laundry women. People were quieter than they should have been. The feast would certainly have left everyone exhausted but in Dae’s experience that didn’t breed silence so much as grumbling and grousing.

Mulling it over, Dae didn’t think that even the murder would explain the behavior in question. Whoever found the body was likely horrified but for the rest of the castle, the dead boy wasn’t someone they would have had a deep personal connection with. Secrets lurked in Castle Nath, but then that was true of all castles. The question on Dae’s mind was whether she needed to care about those secrets, or whether she could leave the castle and its inhabitants to resolve them on their own.

She entered the chamberlain’s office with that thought occupying her attention only to discover that the chamberlain wasn’t the one waiting for her. In his place, Duke Telli, the lord of the castle, sat reading through the ledgers on the chamberlain’s desk. He looked up when she entered and favored her with a nod of acceptance as to her presence in the room. Dae offered the nobleman a smile return, though it was a grin driven by the thought of how mad Javan would be to learn that she was speaking to the Duke more than any genuine pleasure at seeing the man himself.

“Welcome, Officer Kor is it?” Duke Telli asked.

“Yes, Your Grace,” Dae answered and bowed as befitted a Pact Warrior addressing a lord of the realm.

“I hear there was some excitement in the castle last night?” Duke Telli asked.

“Yes,” Dae said. “And potentially a murder as well.”

“Potentially a murder?” the Duke said. “I was led to believe that there was a body in my moat?”

“There was,” Dae said. “The corpse is being taken to the Dawn March barracks for inspection, with no eyewitnesses to the murder however we can’t say if the killer committed the crime within the castle or not.”

“I see, and what have you ascertained so far about the killing?” the Duke asked.

“Very little,” Dae said. “I had hoped to meet with the chamberlain to see if anyone could identify the body. Once we know the victim’s identity, answering the question of who might want to kill them and why will become easier.”

“Was it one of my guests?” the Duke asked. “I thought they all left safely last night?”

“I won’t be able to say until the body is identified Your Grace,” Dae said.

“I will send for Kenal then,” the Duke said. He didn’t rise, but instead rang a small bell that rested on the chamberlain’s desk. Out in the hall, Dae heard someone, a page most likely, scamper off at the sound of the bell to fetch Kenal, the absent chamberlain.

“If I may ask Your Grace,” Dae said. “You appear to be in traveling clothes. Were you intent on leaving the city today?”

“No,” the Duke said. “I have just returned. Though we hosted a celebration here, I was called on to attend the principal festival in Highcrest.”

At the mention of Highcrest, Dae glimpsed the memory of a broad avenue leading up to the iridescent walls of the Royal Palace. Her first visit to Highcrest had been a tumultuous time, but despite all the pain that followed, that initial glimpse of the Gallagrin Royal Castle had left a deep and abiding impression of awe in her.

“You traveled by sky carriage?” Dae asked. Castle Nath wasn’t far from the Royal Castle as far as provinces and politics went but for to travel there and back in so short a time would have been difficult for even a noble’s ground carriage.

“Yes, fortunately we were blessed with clear skies on the trip out,” the Duke said. “The storm delayed our return till the morning which may be a kindness as well.”

“You traveled with your family?” Dae asked.

“Only my daughter,” the Duke said. “She is not one for loud parties, but I am pleased she remained at the palace. To return home to discover a murder had occurred on our very doorstep would trouble her greatly.”

Dae’s response was interrupted by the arrival of the chamberlain.

“Your Grace!” Kenal said. “My apologies, I was putting together a full briefing for you. I did not have word that you had returned yet.”

Dae frowned at that but held her disbelief off her face. If anyone would be alerted to the arrival of the Duke, especially via sky carriage, it would be his chamberlain.

“Hello chamberlain,” Dae said, in place of the impolitic questions she wanted to ask him.

“Officer Kor,” Kenal said. “I have questioned my staff as you requested, we believe we know the identity of the boy found in moat this morning.”

Dae hide her shock and amazement by feeling none whatsoever. Of course the staff knew who he was. That was why they’d dragged the Dawn March into the mess.

“Your Grace, I’m afraid that Prince Lorenzo Lialarus, one of the Queen’s pages, has been the victim of a heinous crime,” the chamberlain said.

Lialarus was a foreign name. From Inchesso if Dae remembered her lessons properly. Which made the dead boy a Queen’s Page and the prince of a wealthy and powerful foreign family.

“You are smiling Officer,” the Duke said. “Did you know the boy?”

“No Your Grace, I did not.” Dae said. “I merely find myself on familiar terrain.”

“I suppose investigating murders becomes routine for someone in your order,” the Duke said.

“Each one presents its own challenges,” Dae said.

In most cases those challenges involved simply finding the killer who had fled the scene of the crime. Usually people killed those they knew. It took a certain amount of familiarity to breed the kind of bone deep rage and hatred that led to taking another’s life. Unless of course money was involved. Chasing down highwaymen and bandits was not part of the Dawn March’s writ however so Dae had little cause to concern herself with that form of misery.

Lorenzo presented other challenges though. No one killed a Queen’s Page and a Prince over something trivial. The blood price for his murder would bankrupt anyone short of a lord of the realm. Which meant either someone very stupid had done in the poor prince or someone was playing a very specific sort of game. Dae often found cause to bet on stupidity in cases like that but the timing and the placement of Lorenzo’s body was particular enough to lead her to favor malice as the primary motivation for a change.

“The Queen will not be pleased with this,” the Duke said.

“I imagine she’ll be eager to find out who was responsible for the killing,” Dae said.

She left unvoiced that Queen Alari would likely be quite willing to authorize a great deal more killing in the pursuit of that information. She had come by her monicker as the Bloody Handed Queen in the most literal and direct way possible after all.

“Was Prince Lialarus particularly beloved by the Queen?” Chamberlain Kenal asked.

“The Queen loves all of those who serve under her,” the Duke said, repeating the statement as though reading it out of a textbook.

Dae knew the rhetoric the nobility used to keep the populace believing pretty lies so that they would stay docile enough to rule. She knew that few of the words which escaped their lips could be trusted. But she also knew the Queen. Alari did love her people. Through fire and pain and madness and blood, the one thing Dae knew down to the core of her soul was the passion the Queen felt for the people of her realm.

“We need to know who Prince Lialarus was here with and why he was in Nath rather than in Highcrest,” Dae said.

“Do you have the list of the invited guests?” the Duke asked his chamberlain.

“Of course lord,” Kenal said and produced a tome from the pile on his desk. After a few minutes of searching he added,  “I do not see the Prince’s name on the invitation roster.”

Which wasn’t surprising. Royal Pages, though in some senses high in station, especially when they were foreign princes, were not typically recognized as entities in their own right. Even Dae in her capacity as an officer of the Dawn March would have merited the attention of an invitation to a noble event before a page like Lorenzo. In his role as Prince Lialarus, Lorenzo might have have been extended an invitation but the fact that he was serving as a page meant that he was young enough to be considered little more than an appendage of his family. If House Lialarus had a reason to be present at the festivities, or needed an representative, Lorenzo might have been included but even that wasn’t a certainty.

“And in the registry of guests?” the Duke asked.

Chamberlain Kenal searched on one of the following pages of the tome he held for another minute before he located what he was looking for.

“Yes my lord,” Kenal said. “He is here. He is listed as appearing within your court under the invitation extended to the Denarius Consortium.”

“The Inchesso merchants?” the Duke asked.

“Yes, they brought a sizeable party last night, as requested by Your Grace,” the chamberlain said.

“We have the first link in the chain then,” Dae said. “I will speak with the Watch about bringing the people in their party in for questioning.”

“Agreed,” the Duke said. “But they will brought here.”

“I believe it would be in Your Grace’s best interest to allow the Dawn March to handle this,” Dae said.

“The Queen will expect more from me than to turn it over to another’s hands,” Duke Telli said. “If I am to carry news to her of a murder this foul then I aim to carry the culprit with me as well.”

Dae refrained from commenting on how Lorenzo’s murder was no more foul than any other, and quite a bit less so than some. The question of what value to place on spilled noble blood had been long since resolved for her after she’d seen it mixed together with the blood of commoners with no differences visible between the two.

“Once the consortium members are collected, one or more will need to be sent to the Dawn March barracks to identify the body,” Dae said. “Before formal accusations are made we should confirm that the boy wearing the prince’s clothes is indeed the prince.”

“That is prudent,” Duke Telli said. “I will also order the checkpoints closed until tomorrow. I do not want our murderer slipping away while we are struggling to find the trail to him.”

Dae offered no comment on that. With the murder having been committed the previous evening and the body not being discovered until after dawn, plus the time it took to get Javan and herself there, the killer had been given plenty of time flee the city already. The only reason he would still be within Nath’s borders was if he could be certain he would not be discovered.

“I need to get back to the barracks and inform Commander Kekel what we’ve discovered,” Dae said. She also wanted to check on what, if anything, the investigation into the corpse had turned up.

“I will send word to the Commander when we have the Consortium members rounded up,” Duke Telli said.

Dae took her leave of the Duke and his chamberlain and headed back to the Dawn March barracks on foot. In part it was to give herself time to think and in part because she had little desire to deal with either Kekel or Javan.

An Inchesso trading consortium might have reasons to move against an Inchesso prince that didn’t involve Gallagrin, the Queen or anything Dae cared about. It was just possible that her instincts had been wrong and the murder was part of a feud that didn’t touch on her at all. Questions nagged at her though. If it was an internal Inchesso feud, why make the body so obvious. There were dozens of better places to hide a body in Nath. Leaving the corpse in the moat had been designed to attract attention without making a specific statement. It was the kind of action that would turn both Inchesso and Gallagrin against whatever party was responsible. Dae knew most of the major political players in the Blessed Realms and none of them seemed like they would benefit from picking a fight with Inchesso and Gallagrin. That argued that some other plan was at work, but chew on it though she might, Dae couldn’t make a guess at what that plan might be.

Her pondering was disturbed by an awareness from Kirios, her pact spirit. Clearing the distractions from her mind she pinpointed the feeling that had called her back to the present.

Someone was following her.

“You return from the belly of the beast,” Teo, the vampire said, stepping up beside her casually as she walked down the street. “But do you return with true treasures or with delicately spun lies?”

A dead body makes for the sort of problem that doesn’t go away no matter how hard you wish it would. Dae knew that from repeated personal experience, but that knowledge didn’t stop her from closing her eyes, shaking her head and trying to will herself to be anywhere other than where she was.  Denial wasn’t a luxury she could afford though, and Dae’s history with wishes was spotty at best.

“Looks like we caught a nice simple one this time, doesn’t it?” Javan asked, bending down to inspect the deep slice across the corpse’s throat. Dae clenched her jaw and fought back a wave of anger. Javan held two decades more experience in the March than Dae did. The March wasn’t a physically dangerous duty on most occasions, but it still took a fair degree of wit to survive in it for as long as Javan had. That ruled out the possibility that he was stupid enough to believe what he’d said.

“Have the body wrapped up and delivered, with care, to the Dawn March barracks,” Dae said, addressing the castle’s chamberlain.

“I will have to clear that with the Duke,” the chamberlain said, looking at Dae and then quickly away from her.

“This isn’t a matter for the Duke,” Dae said.

“The murder was committed in his castle!” the chamberlain said. “I’m sure the Duke will want to see the matter handled properly.”

“Then you’ll work with us here,” Dae said. “We don’t know where the murder was committed, only where the body was found. And this boy wasn’t one of the Duke’s subjects. Which is lucky for the Duke. Trust me, he doesn’t want any part of this.”

“How do you know the boy isn’t the Duke’s subject?” the chamberlain asked.

“Does anyone here recognize him?” Javan asked.

The chamberlain turned and searched the crowd that had gathered but no one stepped forward or volunteered any information.

“You called us here to do our job,” Dae said. “Let us do it and there’ll be less headaches for everyone.”

The chamberlain wavered, the fear of his master’s unknown desires in the matter written in the worry lines that creased his forehead.

“We need to have the official chirugeon’s conduct their examination,” Javan said. “If the Duke wants the body back after that, I’m sure he and our commander can work something out.”

The relationship between Duke Telli and the Dawn March commander was well known, and with the reminded of it, the chamberlain breathed easier.

“We shall follow the official protocol in this case then,” he said and called for a wagon and sheets to transport the body in. While he and the castle guards made their preparations, Javan pulled Dae aside. The small wooden shed didn’t block out the sound of the crowd that had gathered but was enough to let them talk without people watching them. Javan tried to pin Dae to the wall, presumably so he could cow her into submission. It had never worked on her before, but Javan enjoyed enough success with it on other people that he kept giving the maneuver another shot in his dealings with his “partner”.

Dae side-stepped away from the hut and turned to give the proceedings with the dead boy her attention.

“Why do you want that body?” he asked. “We could rule on this and be off the case by the time we get back to the barracks.”

“It’s not going to be that simple,” Dae said. “It was never going to be that simple.” A murder at any noble family’s castle required an investigation by the Dawn March but with the cozy relationship between Duke Telli and Commander Kekel, that could have occurred over a bottle of fine brandy on an evening when neither was busy, presuming the victim was someone without connections able to make demands that would need to be addressed.

That the castle had called in the Dawn March so early meant someone knew who the boy was, or at least who he was supposed to be, and, in either case, who he was connected to.

“Cut throat’s a pretty simple verdict from what I’m standing,” Javan said.

“Cut throat’s not a verdict, it’s a cause of death, and it might not even be the real one.” Dae said. “A verdict is what we get when we find out who did the deed and can prove why they did it.”

“That asking a lot in a case like this,” Javan said. “You know as well as I do, with the body in the water that long, the chirurgeons aren’t going find much apart from the obvious.”

“I don’t care what they can find,” Dae said. “We just can’t let this corpse disappear until someone’s been able to identify who it is.”

“Who the hell’s going to steal a corpse?” Javan asked.

“If we’re luck, whoever killed the boy or was responsible for having him killed,” Dae said.

“You’re seeing something here,” Javan said. “Something I think neither one of us should be looking at all that closely.”

“Don’t really have a choice,” Dae said. “You saw the insignia the kid had on him, didn’t you?”

“Couldn’t tell for sure,” Javan said. “The muck from the river had it covered up pretty well.”

The tension around his eyes pleaded with Dae to drop the matter. Playing dumb was more than an excuse for laziness, in some situations it was a survival technique. The Dawn March had a lot of authority on paper, but in practice there were levels of society where their ability to enforce the law was far more limited than it was meant to be. Officers who probed too deeply into the wrong areas tended to wind up as a casefile that other, smarter, officers ignored.

Dae knew that, but she thought back to another man who’d plead ignorance as a defense. The image of feet struggling in the wind and, ultimately, swinging limply back and forth sliced through her mind, lancing into a deeper cut than the one on the boy’s throat.

She didn’t play dumb. Ever.

“The symbol was clean enough for me to recognize it,” she said. “If we’re extremely lucky, the rightful owner of those clothes is off somewhere else, and the poor thing getting wrapped in blankets over there was dragged into this to provide the original a chance to get away from a horrible family life.”

“That’s a pretty wild and unlikely theory you’ve got there,” Javan said, raising his voice to where the crowd noticed the two officers talking.

“Yeah, that’s cause I don’t want to think about the real one,” Dae said, keeping her voice low enough that only Javan could hear it.

“Why?” he asked, leaning in but lowering his voice as he did.

“Because if what I really think is true, I’m going to wind up killing a whole lot of people,” Dae said.

“It’s just one dead boy, Kor,” Javan said, stepping back. They’d worked together long enough that he knew Dae didn’t make claims like that as a mere expression. “It was a horrible thing, a terrible tragedy sure, probably a hefty blood price to be paid too, but no need to start a war over it or anything.”

“I don’t start wars,” Dae said. In her mind’s eye, she glimpsed the memory of a border castle burning. She didn’t start wars, and she didn’t finish them. No matter how hard she’d fought to.

“You try to blow this up into something big and you’re gonna make it your funeral,” Javan said.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Dae said, a smile reaching up to tug at the corners of her eyes.

“You pull me into your little death wish and I’ll make sure it’s a bad thing,” Javan said.

“You never did understand me Kael,” Dae said. “And anyways, stop whining. The commander wasn’t going to let this one rest with us saying it was murder, case closed.”

“That’s true, but it doesn’t mean he couldn’t put someone else on it,” Javan said. “I’ve got kickback money saved up just for an occasion like this.”

“Lucky you,” Dae said. “Maybe you can cut a deal once we get back to the back to the barracks.”

“You’re really not going to let this go?” Javan asked. “You know the commander wanted this to be simple.”

“I hope he gets his wish then,” Dae said. “It’s always possible I’m wrong about everything here right? I could just be jumping at shadows.”

“Yeah, sure,” Javan said. “All just shadows.”

They held each other’s gaze for a long moment, testing who would blink first. In the end it was Javan who rolled his eyes and sighed. If anyone was close enough to hear them, they might have mistaken the exchange for Dae giving in to Javan’s point. The mandate of the Dawn March however was to “chase away the shadows of corruption from the land of Gallagrin”. If shadows moved across the face of Gallagin and struck down one of the Queen’s pages, then it was the Dawn March’s job to stand against them, for the good of the realm.

Dae doubted the Dawn March had ever been quite so sterling an organization as to place the life of a page on par with the security of a nation, and she knew that most of the officers in the March’s ranks shared Javan’s opinion when it came to choosing between duty and personal prosperity. Even looking at herself, Dae held no illusions that a duty to Gallagrin called her to service. She’d tried to stand for her country, to be its shield against all enemies within and without and she’d broken. Shattered on the anvil of naivety and impossible dreams.

There was a life beyond those broken dreams though. For as bad as her worst day had been, the sun still came up the next morning.

“You want to play escort for the body?” Dae asked. “That’ll give you first shot at Kekel to ask about transferring off this case.”

“And what are you planning to do in that time?” Javan asked.

“If the boy was in the castle,” Dae said, leaving out ‘and we both know that he was’, “someone in there should be able to recognize him.”

“You’re going to interrogate the Duke? Alone?” Javan asked.

“I thought I might start with the chamberlain’s staff,” Dae said. “The Duke probably has no idea who was in attendance at the big party last night, but chamberlain’s people should know who the guests were.”

“Tell you what,” Javan said. “You promise me you’re not going to go hunt down the Duke and cause us a world of pain and I’ll take good care of the corpse until you get back to the barracks.”

“I’m going to talk to the chamberlain’s staff,” Dae said. “And if the corpse is missing or disfigured when I get there, I’ll know who to blame, won’t I?”

“Is that a threat?” Javan asked.

“Not technically,” Dae said. “I’d have to mention what I was planning to do about it for it to be a threat.”

“I’m older and smarter than you,” Javan said, “and my pact is a hell of a lot stronger than yours.”

“Then you’re probably safe, right?” Dae said. “But still, don’t let anything happen to the body.”

Javan rolled his  eyes again and turned away. The commander wasn’t going to let him buy himself out of the assignment, but he might get kicked off it (and out of the Dawn March) for leaving Dae all by herself near the Duke’s castle. That didn’t especially trouble Dae, but she did start formulating the questions she would need to ask the chamberlain’s staff, rather than the one’s she’d assault the Duke with if the need arose. Dealing with (or, rather, upsetting) Duke Telli could wait until she had a clearer picture of what his involvement in the murder might be. If that worked out in Javan’s favor then so be it.

Turning the questions about what had occurred over in her mind. part of Dae prayed that the Duke would turn out to be a hapless victim of circumstance and that the killing had been enacted in his domain because of a rare alignment of schedules brought on by the royal celebration.

Duke Telli was shrewd though and there wasn’t much that went on his domain that he wasn’t aware of.  If that were true, then it meant he was involved, and if he was involved then that said things about the relationship between the Tel family and the royal throne that Dae didn’t want to know but knew she had to discover.

The Dawn March barracks were as abuzz with activity as a beehive would have been at the bottom of a lake of cheap wine. The major distinction between the two was that the cheap wine was on the inside of the various March officers who bothered to turn up that day. The general level of sapience was otherwise about the same though.

That didn’t bother Dae. It was typical behavior for the March after a major celebration. Except for her diversion with the vampire and Half-Cut Joe diluting his cheap whiskey to the point where it was indistinguishable from the Low Quarter’s general sewage, Dae would have been in the same state as the rest of the Dawn March officers. Instead she was conscious and alert and without any pounding internal headaches, which meant a lot of external ones were going to seek her out.

The one island of sobriety in the sea of half-asleep, drunken louts was the Dawn March’s commander, Sendrick Ketel. That boded poorly for Dae. Sendrick was as prone to excess as any of the personnel who served under him. If he was still clear headed it meant real trouble was brewing.

“The hell have you been Kor?” Sendrick asked, addressing Dae by her surname as she opened the door to his office.

“Derelict and absent from duty,” she said, sliding into one of the seats in front of Sendrick’s desk. Javan slid into the other chair and leaned it back. Like the rest of the office, and the barracks as a whole, the chair had seen better days. The padded leather cushions that were once meant to look posh and high quality were betrayed by the ravages of time which revealed the poor workmanship that went into their construction. Dae knew the kind of money the Dawn March collected from the royal treasury and knew the kind of furnishings the office should have boasted. Whoever was pocketing the difference was supplementing their income generously.

The same was true with whoever pocketed the difference in what was allocated for the Dawn March officers’ payroll and what the average officer actually received. Graft, bribery and general corruption did a reasonable job making up the difference, though there were always the holdouts like Dae who either didn’t care enough to sell out or had such low expenses that they didn’t see the need to.

Javan, Dae’s theoretical mentor, had worked for a few years to convince her to follow the natural order of things and find a family to put her “on retainer”. He never quite gave up on that, but Dae’s dull and disinterested lack of a response to his suggestions made it a difficult matter to pursue.

“Do you know why you’re here?” Sendrick asked.

“You sent your errand boy here to demand my presence,” Dae said.

“I sent your partner to bring you in,” Sendrick said. “And do you know why I did that?”

“I’m sure you’re going to tell me,” Dae said.

“Well you’re wrong,” Sendrick said. “Kael, explore to Officer Kor why she is here.”

“The commander was concerned for your safety,” Javan said.

“That was nice of him,” Dae said. “Clearly he is dedicated to helping each and every one of us.”

“It was bring you here or turn you over to the Watch’s custody,” Javan said.

“What does the Watch want with me?” Dae asked, fishing to discover what the Watch had told the March.

“There were multiple assaults on watch personnel by a Pact Warrior bearing the March’s heraldry,” Javan said.

“That sound just tragic,” Dae said. “I hope they catch the guy who was masquerading as one of us. Sounds like he’s really dangerous.”

“I’m glad we see things the same,” Sendrick said. “Supposedly the assaults happened within the vicinity of one of your favorite haunts. Don’t suppose you saw anything?”

“I’ve seen lots of things,” Dae said. “Last night I remember seeing the bottom of a very cheap bottle of whiskey, and some truly unpleasant whiskey dreams. If the Watch wants more than that you would probably need to bill them for my time as an investigator right?”

“Hey now, we have a good understanding with the Watch,” Sendrick said. “Professional courtesy between organizations. Normally that’d means we’d help them out however was required.”

By which Dae heard him saying that normally he’d turn her over to them unless she made him a better offer.  Something wasn’t normal today though, in fact it was abnormal enough that her commander was willing to forego a chance at a cheap payoff. That captured her full attention.

“Professional courtesy only goes so far though right?” Dae asked.

“Today anyways,” Javan said.

“What’s special about today?” Dae asked.

“Today we’re being called to the castle,” Sendrick said.

“Called to the Castle?” Dae asked. “Didn’t know we worked for the Duke.”

In theory, the Dawn March reported to a royal overseer. In practice, each of the central barracks was given a wide autonomy in how it managed its affairs and that generally meant that the commanders were effectively employees of the Dukes whose territories they served in.

“You don’t seem to work for anyone,” Sendrick said. “But you know how to curtsy, so you get to head up to the castle and see what the fuss is all about.”

“Aren’t you lucky?” Javan asked.

“You’re going with her,” Sendrick said. “We’ve got a nice understanding with the Castle Guards too. I don’t want to have to extend them any Professional Courtesy, if I make myself clear?”

“Yeah,” Dae said. “If we have to assault the Castle Guards, we’ll be sure to be professional about it.”

Without waiting for a dismissal, Dae rose and left Sendrick’s office. As a Pacted officer, Dae warranted an oversized carrel where her desk and the paperwork that she was ostensibly responsible for waited. Since most of the paperwork on the desk had been there six years prior when she joined the Dawn March, she saw little need disturb it unless she needed writing space and that happened only rarely.

Most of the “work” of a Dawn March officer involved the implicit threat their presence in a city represented. People knew that if they stepped outside the rules they would have to pay for it. Of course the Dawn March’s rates were pretty reasonable so long as the rule being broken wasn’t one which would cause mass rioting, or one which a wealthier power wished to have enforced.

“You’ve got a talent for landing in trouble don’t you?” Javan asked as he caught up with her.

“Maybe trouble’s got a talent for finding me,” Dae said.

“Could be,” Javan said. “Either or, you’re a miserable specimen to hang around.”

“Never said I needed a partner,” Dae said.

“Try proving that to the commander,” Javan said. “He still seems to think you need a babysitter.”

“He’s not worried about me,” Dae said.

“Of course not,” Javan said. “He’s worried about next week’s gratuity from Duke Telli. If you screw that up there’s going to be nine hells to pay.”

“That would be a terrible shame,” Dae said, digging her official Dawn Watch paraphernalia out of her desk. “What’s the deal with the Castle though? If we’re going to pay for nine hells, I’d at least like to know if we’re walking into one of them.”

“Sounds like they’ve got a dead body they want us to check out,” Javan said as he strapped on a shoulder guard with the Dawn Watch logo emblazoned on the side.

“Sounds delightful,” Dae said. “Anything special about this dead body?”

There was something special about every dead body of course, but Dae blocked those thoughts from her mind with practiced ease. She had too many memories that were “special” in that precise manner to allow herself to dwell on the “special” things a corpse gave testimony to.

“That’s why they want us there I imagine,” Javan said.

“Bet you next week’s wage they want us there because someone’s head is going to roll and they’d rather it be ours than theirs,” Dae said, securing her shoulder guard in place. Neither she nor Javan needed the shoulder guards for armor. The ceremonial swords they wore on their hip which boasted beautiful filigree and glass-steel blades were similarly unnecessary from a tactical perspective.

Their use was meant for outside of combat though. Pact armor and weapons were surpassingly powerful, but not even the greatest Pact binders could hold the transformation indefinitely. Not without losing memory, mind and personality at least.

Instead, the Dawn March relied on their heraldry and symbols. The logos and recognizable blades reminded the people the March  interacted with of the officer’s considerable power. The physical reminder was surprising effective too. Intellectually, someone might know that the person before them was gifted with vast and terrible abilities, but the message was more viscerally understood when that someone had a sword inches away from their throat, even if the sword was more ornamental than practical.

“That’s not a bet,” Javan said.

“And yet we’re going to head there anyways, aren’t we?” Dae asked.

“You got anything better to do this morning?” Javan asked.

“Nothing and no one,” Dae said, kicking the lowest drawer of her desk closed. It closed with a too familiar hollow thump. Dae frowned. She wasn’t a desk.

She spent the trip to Castle Tel working on that frown, layering ever more unpleasant thoughts on top of each other.

A body at the Castle was likely to be one of two things; it belonged to a servant, in which case involving the Dawn March was unlikely, or it belonged to a member of the Telli family, in which case getting involved was exactly within the Dawn March’s wheelhouse and entirely outside of Dae’s interests.

She thought back to her interactions with the Tellis. They governed the province of Tel’Ap’Sai. Duke Telli  had been in power even back when Dae was at the Royal castle so she’d seen him a number of times, though only from a distance. He was a weaselly sort of man in her estimation, shrewd and calculating (which weren’t necessarily bad qualities in a nobleman) and disrespectful towards any he considered his lesser (which wasn’t necessarily an uncommon in a nobleman).

If the corpse was his, Dae knew she would not have been assigned to the case. Sendrick would have handled the matter personally in order to ingratiate himself with the next ruler of the Telli family.

The Duchess Telli was also not a possibility, as Dae recalled, having died in birthing her third child.

One of the children then perhaps? Not the heir certainly. There’d be a true investigation if an heir was killed. So that ruled out the first born son.

The daughter, second born was a more plausible alternative. Dae didn’t recall much about her except that her debut at court had been delayed twice for “reasons of health”. That was over a decade ago however and while the daughter hadn’t married yet, it wasn’t uncommon for a nobleman like Telli to reserve an asset like that until a suitably strategic engagement could be made which would benefit the family.

The most likely option though was the third child, the younger son. Just important enough to demand an official investigation, just unnecessary and useless enough that a half-hearted effort would suffice for all involved.

Dae remembered meeting the boy, Ren, when she was at the Royal Castle. He was quiet and reserved, in every measure the opposite of his outspoken and entitled brother. Where his elder brother took after their father, Ren seemed to avoid that fate, to his own detriment.

Dae wondered if perhaps a worse fate had befallen him. And on the evening of the Royal Unification Gala. That didn’t bode well at all.

The carriage that Javan and Dae rode in reached Castle Telli minutes after they left from the Dawn March barracks. The High Quarter was situated close to the Castle for a variety of reasons, easy access to their paid enforcers being one of the many minor perks the nobles routinely overlooked.

When the two Dawn March officers arrived though they were not taken within the castle. Instead the chamberlain and a party of minor officials led them a quarter of the distance around the castle moat to where a crowd had gathered.

Floating in the water, face down was the body they had come in search of.

“We wanted to leave it as it was so that you could examine it for yourself,” the chamberlain said.

Dae praised the silent and hidden stars. It was exceedingly rare to find someone as sensible as the chamberlain in charge of a death scene.

Javan had the chamberlain clear away the crowd and together they spent a solid twenty minutes observing the body and recording the details of what they saw. It was the basic foundation work any sort of good investigation was built on and which most bad investigations would file and ignore forever.

Once they had spotted all that they could and made what measurements they could make, Dae called for the body to be lifted ashore. A group of burly workers from the crowd stepped forward to earn a copper coin each by pulling the body onto the banks. When they settled it onto the shore and turned it over Dae discovered several unsettling things.

First, the body did not belong to any of the nobles of the Telli family. He was a young boy, younger than the youngest Telli son and barely into the beginnings of his manhood, from the neighboring country of Inchesso if his bloated and swollen features were still enough of a clue as to his origin.

That meant he was someone special and outside the purview of Dae’s familiarity which left her in uncertain waters.

What wasn’t uncertain though was the thin line that ran across his neck. From where they found the body, the boy could have been killed by a fall into the moat from the castle parapets. Or drowned if he’d slipped in from ground level. However he entered the moat though, it was slash across the throat which claimed his life. No accident created the corpse that lay on the ground at Dae’s feet and suicide wasn’t a possibility either.

For as worrisome as that was though, a small flag on the shoulder of the boy’s uniform filled Dae with even greater dread.

The boy bore the heraldry of a Queen’s Page. Only the elite were allowed to become direct servants to the Queen, and for a foreigner to hold that position meant that he was someone very important in his home nation.

Dae stared down at the corpse and bit back each of the thousand curses she knew. No matter what they found, this wasn’t going to be a simple case.

Daelynne and her vampire baggage arrived at the Sleeping Courtier well after both had been soaked to the bone. Their entrance to the inn was remarkable only because so few in the Low Quarter chose to brave the weather that night. The sight of someone being carried in on someone else’s back drew little interest and less concern though. Anyone who noticed whatever problem the two were having had to fear that they’d be drawn into the matter and no one wanted that.

It came as no surprise to Dae that her vampire backpack had chosen a room on the second floor. She briefly considered transforming into her armor, but before she could commit that transgression for a second time in less than an hour, the vampire spoke up.

“You’ve done enough,” he said. “I don’t think either one of us wants to go up the stairs like this.”

“I could manage it if they would hold still for a second,” Dae said.

“I assure you that is not necessary,” the vampire said. “I am recovered enough to walk on my own.”

He slid off her back and rose to stand on his own. With his first step though he pitched forward, clutching his side in pain. Daelynne caught him before he crashed to the ground but had to fight to retain her balance as the world drunkenly bobbed before her eyes.

“Almost recovered enough,” he said and leaned on her, forcing his breathing to an even rhythm.

“You can recover in your room behind a locked door,” Dae said and dragged him towards the stairs. The vampire winced as they moved but managed to keep up thanks to Dae supporting most of his weight.

“Are you always this painfully stubborn when helping people?” the vampire asked.

“I can just be painful if you’d prefer?” she said.

“No, that’s alright,” the vampire said. “I believe I have painful covered quite well already.”

At the epic conclusion to the odyssey of “climbing the stairs”, the two of them were out of breath and in need of a long rest. Daelynne pulled the vampire down the hall without pausing though, intent on maintaining what little momentum they had built up.

“The second door on the left,” the vampire said.

“You went for one of the cheap bunks?” Dae asked.

“It seemed sufficient,” the vampire said.

“It’s not,” Dae said. “There’s no lock on the doors for the cheap rooms. Gods above, you were determined to get yourself killed tonight weren’t you?”

“I can take care of myself,” the vampire said.

“Clearly,” Dae said and shook his arm off her shoulder. The vampire remained standing but just barely. “Wait here, I’ll get the key to one of the private rooms.”

Without waiting for the inevitable argument the vampire would make, she spun on her heels, lurched left, lurched right, caught herself on a wall and used that as a guide to make it back down the hallway to the stairs.

Due to the storm, the inn was doing poor business for the evening despite the royal holiday. Thanks to the storm though, the inn’s proprietor knew that anyone seeking shelter at his establishment was more desperate than the usual traveler. Daelynne escaped her encounter with him richer by one room key but poorer by a noticeable chunk of the coins she’d taken from the watchmen.

By the time she returned to the second floor, she expected to discover that the vampire had slunk away either into the room he claimed he’d rented or back out into the night. Instead she found him sitting right where she left him.

“Get up,” she said. “You’re room’s down at the end of the hall.”

The vampire groaned but did as he was told.

“You are not what I expected,” the vampire said as they reached the door to his new room. “And for that I am grateful.”

“You’re welcome,” Dae said. “Now don’t die and don’t get lost. If I have to come find you when I need a witness, I’ll be grumpy about it.”

“I imagine that would be unpleasant,” he said.

“Not for me,” Dae said. She smiled but it wasn’t a warm smile or a deep one. “Here’s the key, for the love of every sainted thing, keep the door locked, especially at night. There’s things out there that are a lot worse than you and most of them walk on two legs and know how to turn a door handle.”

“I understand,” the vampire said. “In a general sense at least. I’ll take tonight’s object lesson to heart.”

“A heart? You still have one of those worthless things?” Dae asked.

“Of course I…” the vampire started to say and caught the smile that had reached Dae’s eyes. “Definitely not what I expected.”

“Good night vampire,” Dae said.

“Good night Warrior,” the vampire said. “And my apologies, I didn’t mean to be mysterious before. Only careful. You may call me Teo, though if you need to file any official reports I believe your suggestion of Joe will do perfectly well for those.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking it probably will,” Dae said. She nodded her head, which was as close as she could get under the circumstances to a formal bow without toppling over, and then staggered off down the hallway.

The storm outside the tavern had not changed its overall mood though it had lost some of its rage and spite. Dae entered its embrace cold, wet, and miserable and arrived at her rooms in the High Quarter in much the same condition.

As a member of the Dawn’s March, Dae had no claim to royal position, but she was expected to represent a higher caliber of personage than the denizens of either the Low Quarter or the Tradesmen’s Wards. The Low Quarter offered comfort and escape in that sense because it meant her chances of encountering one of her fellows from the Dawn’s March was low and even if she did neither would be inclined to acknowledge the other in such circumstances.

Stripping out of her sodden clothes, Dae grabbed a towel from her small bath area to dry off. The collection of purses she had liberated from the downed watchman sat on the simple desk that shared space with her bed and the chest where she kept her better garments and valuable personal belongings.

“That was a stupid thing to do,” she said, regretting the rotten whiskey, the pointless indulgence in violence and most of the rest of the evening. Royal galas didn’t put her in the best of moods, but she’d walked the road she was on enough times to know that it never lead anywhere good.

“They’re probably still there,” she said, knowing that the watchmen were probably long gone.

“I could go back and drop their money on them,” she said, knowing that she wouldn’t.

“No one would care then,” she said, knowing that it was too late to take back her mistakes.

The watchmen had been found already. The ones that fell down easy were already awake and telling their story. They’d only seen her in armor but they’d know she was with the Dawn’s March from the heraldry she wore. Their injuries were deeper than the wounds on their bodies. In breaking the watchmen, Dae had bruised the Watch’s pride, and worse, she’d punched them in their most tender spot. Right in the wallet. The theft of the purses was one thing. That was chump change and everyone knew it. Paying for the chirurgeon to set broken bones wasn’t cheap though. Nor were the extra shifts for already overworked Watchmen to cover the leave time for the injured. For that the Watch captain would raise a fuss. Which meant Dae’s commander would raise a fuss.

The world spun around her, but it was merely annoying rather than overwhelming. Dae fought against the induced dizziness and grabbed a fresh set of clothes from the closet that contained her day to day wearables. Once she’d possessed an array of nightgowns and fine undergarments. She’d maintained that frivolity longer than she should have perhaps, but her time to enjoy the soft things in life was years in the past, cut off from her by blood and fire and betrayal.

Possessed by a host of maudlin thoughts which ran in that vein, Dae stumbled out into the receiving room of her apartment, verified the door was locked, bolted and braced and then stumbled two feet backs toward her bed before settling on the couch as an acceptable alternative.

She didn’t want to dream, that was part of the reason for the bottle she’d downed, but her ghosts and demons didn’t care to indulge her and couldn’t be submerged under the thin layer of intoxication she’d covered herself in.

When the dreams came there was no sense to them. No narrative to lead her to a moment of clarity once she woke. They tore at her with crazed images, distorting her into a thousand different forms and people. She was butcher and the butchered, fallen hero and risen monster. Each image, each tableau, was wrapped in so many layers of symbolism and indirection that only the raw emotions they held touched on reality.

In the midst of the maelstrom of despair, pain, and rage, Dae found one image that she couldn’t approach at all and it made the least sense of any of them. She stood in a castle room she’d never been in and which never existed. The room was filled with crawling, scuttling things, but she knew with the certainty of a dream that none of them were an issue. She could best any monster in the room. It wasn’t the monsters that scared her though. It was a simple panel of wood. It rested against the wall of the room and beyond it lay something that froze the marrow of her bones. It was nameless. Unknowable. Except Dae knew what it was. It was annihilation. It was the thing her strength didn’t exist against. It was the foe she could never be victorious over.

She reached out for it and then saw what she was doing. With a scream, she put all of her will into stopping her traitorous hand, but against the force that drew her towards the other side of the wooden plank, she was like a child trying to wrestle with the tide.

Where her mind couldn’t save her though, her heart did. It stopped. For a too long beat she was paralyzed, dying, and then sleep shredded around her and she drew in a fresh breath.

A minute later her breathing was still ragged but under her control.

“Better than the last three times,” she whispered and clenched her fists.

She twisted and forced herself to sit on the couch, becoming dimly aware in the process that the sun was long risen. That wasn’t a good sign. She had the early shift to report to and while actual attendance for duty was not a habit among the Dawn March elite, failure to be available when her commander expected to lay into her for the problems of the prior evening was likely to raise his ire even further.

With the unpleasantness of her dream before waking, Dae had little desire to crawl into bed and wish the world away, but it was still a struggle to make it to the kitchen and pour herself a glass of water for her breakfast.

On the back of her left hand she felt a restless buzz. Kirios, her pact spirit, was restored and energized by the night’s activities. The banter with the vampire. The crazy maelstrom of her dreams. Every intense moment she experienced, good or bad, fed the spirit’s appetite.

It was why the spirits joined with the Pact Makers in the first place. To share in their lives. To feel and grow and experience things when by their nature they felt nothing, they changed only with the passing of the ages, and across those ages they held no connection to the world as it changed around them and molded them into new forms.

Attached to one of the Mindful Races, the spirits came as close as they could to the mortal world and as close as they could to living. Through the lives they shared together, the Pact Makers gained wondrous powers and the spirits gained memories and a sense of self, bounded in both cases by how much each was capable of unifying with the other.

In the wake of her dreams, Daelynne did not feel very unified with her spirit though. It craved more excitement, more misery, more everything, where she just wanted to forget the past twenty four hours and move on to as quiet a day as she could find.

The series of hammer blows that rang out against her door thrilled Kirios therefor while filling Dae with expected dread.

“Wake the hell up, the commander wants you at the barracks an hour ago,” Javan Kael, her “mentor” in the Dawn’s March called out from the hallway.

Sighing, Dae went into her bedroom and grabbed the pouches. Her clothes were wrinkled from sleeping in them but no one was going to care about that. All they’d be interested in was getting their cut of the loot she’d taken from the watchmen. That wasn’t the kind of fight that Kirios was looking forward to but Dae was pretty sure it would keep him content for a while anyways.