Sweep of the Blade (Innkeeper Chronicles #4) - Ilona Andrews Page 0,27

“I would guess Arland will want to escort you, but knowing my aunt, she will make sure he’s busy with something vital instead.”

And that was exactly what she’d expected. “I’ll make do,” Maud said.

Karat narrowed her eyes. “I think you will. If I don’t see you until the meal, best of luck.”

5

The door chimed at fifteen minutes till seven.

Maud opened it. A retainer stood in the doorway. She was young, about twenty or so, with long brown hair tamed into a sleek waterfall and secured with an elaborate hairnet of thin knotted chains. A ceremonial garment the color of blood hugged her figure, close cut in the bodice, with relaxed sleeves caught at the wrist and a long skirt, split on the sides up each thigh. The slits betrayed a glimpse of black, skintight pants. Vampires rarely showed skin.

The front and back of the skirt fell in graceful folds almost to the floor, like an artist’s rendition of a medieval tabard. The outfit was purely ceremonial, Maud reflected. No sane knight, human or vampire, would run around with a long piece of cloth tangling between their legs, but it was in line with vampire fashion, or at least what Maud remembered of it.

The retainer gave her a quick once-over, her gaze snagging on Maud’s jet-black armor with its blank crest. “We will leave now.”

That bordered on rudeness. Clearly the news had spread through House Krahr. The human new arrival was out of favor. Vampires were a predictable lot. There was a time when she found comfort in that predictability.

“Come, Helen,” Maud called.

Helen came over. She wore a blue tunic caught with a silver sash over white leggings and an undertunic. Little brown boots hugged her feet. Maud had brushed her hair and worked it into the customary vampire mane. She looked so adorable, Maud snapped a couple of pictures for Dina.

The retainer saw Helen and fought a smile. “Come this way.”

They followed the retainer through a long hallway into a round chamber, then into another hallway and to a door. The door slid open as they approached, leading to a narrow stone walkway stretching to another tower. The weather had turned, the dark, furious sky flinging rain at the castle and the plateau beyond, and a transparent roof shielded the walkway from the weather’s rage. It was like walking into a storm suspended a hundred feet above the ground. Helen’s grip on her fingers tightened. Maud smiled at her and kept walking.

The other tower loomed ahead, a much wider and larger structure.

“How old is the fortress?” Maud asked.

The retainer paused. Maud hid a smile. As a mongrel human, she clearly wasn’t worth an answer, but rules of hospitality prescribed courtesy when interacting with guests.

Politeness won. “The core of the castle is twenty-three centuries old. We have expanded it over the generations.”

The understatement of the year.

They reached the second tower. The dark door swung open, and they entered another hallway. The stone of the walls here was smoother, newer, cut with greater precision. Lights, soft golden spheres, hung from the twenty-foot ceiling in artful bunches, bathing the hallway in a golden radiance. The blood-red banners of House Krahr spanned the height of the walls. At the far end, double doors stood wide open, offering a glimpse of the feast hall. Sounds of conversation floated over.

The retainer turned left and stopped before an open door. A pair of knights in full armor waited at the entrance, one male and the other female, both middle-aged and thick through the shoulders. A sharp slice of red marked their House crests like a rip of a single claw. Sentinels, the knights trained specifically to guard against an intrusion. Both were armed. Children’s laughter rang out behind them.

“The child stays here,” the retainer said.

Maud crouched by Helen. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Okay,” Helen said quietly.

“You will get to play with other kids. Practice rules only.”

“Okay,” Helen said.

“Repeat it back to me please.”

“Practice rules only, Mommy.”

“Good girl.” Maud kissed her daughter’s forehead and straightened.

The male knight stepped aside, and Helen walked into the room. Maud watched her go.

“Your daughter will be safe,” the female knight told her. “The keepers of the children watch them closely. They won’t permit other children to harm her.”

It’s not her I’m worried about. Maud nodded and followed the retainer to the feast hall.

The feast hall occupied a huge square chamber. Large rectangular tables, carved from sturdy wood ages ago, filled the room, each seating ten guests. In the center of the hall,