Blood Legacy: Heir to the Throne (13 page)

BOOK: Blood Legacy: Heir to the Throne
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Edward watched his master disappear, his patrician features stern with disapproval. “Indeed.”

Ryan pushed through the doors of her chambers and onto the open baths beyond. Victor had been a great admirer of the Turkish baths and for centuries had designed his manors with elaborate bathing areas. This one was no different, with steps down into a gradually sloped ledge that dropped into a deep pool. The pool was fed by an underground hot spring and steam filled the room. There were seating areas beneath the surface where one could relax neck-deep in the water. A waterfall/shower bordered the far wall, sprinkling cool water for a post-bath rinse.

Drake clapped his hands in excitement. The baths were one of his favorite activities.

“We don’t have a lot of time today,” Ryan said to him, quickly stripping him down. She set him down in the shallow water at the pool’s edge, then quickly stripped her own clothing. She dove into the steaming hot water, then re-emerged next to the ledge where the boy sat.

“Come on, let’s get you clean.”

Drake could sense his mother’s urgency, but would have none of it. He slapped the water around him, then kicked his feet, spraying water in Ryan’s face. She gazed into her son’s twinkling eyes with mock seriousness.

“Oh, is that how you want it. Well fine.”

She gently slapped the water as well, creating little sprays that sent him into a paroxysm of giggles. He reached out and placed his tiny hands on her cheeks, pulling her to him.

“Look, little mister. I have responsibilities. I cannot keep the Old Ones waiting so you can play in the bath.”

“Please do not hurry on my account.”

The voice had a deep, melodic quality to it, mellow and caramel-smooth. An immense, ebony-skinned woman stood at the top of the stairs, magnificent in both size and beauty. She possessed an elemental magnetism, ancient and irresistible. If Abigail was the matriarch of their Kind, then Ala surely was the earth mother. Ala settled gracefully onto the top steps, raising the hem of her elaborate robe in order to place her bare feet in the warm water. She was quickly surrounded by several of her escorts, whom she waved off.

Ryan smiled and greeted the Old One. “Habari mama.”

Ala eyed the small boy who was watching her intently from a few feet away. He gave a few hesitant slaps to the water while contemplating this newcomer. Ala assessed him for a moment, then motioned for him to approach. Drake stood, the water coming only to his ankles on the shallow ledge, and toddled over to the woman’s open arms.

Ryan was unsurprised, and less so when the boy curled up on Ala’s lap, resting his head against her breast. He settled in, a look of deep contentment on his face. Ryan thought for a moment he was going to go to sleep. She sighed aloud.

“I know just how you feel, little one.”

She knifed back into the water, swiftly finishing her bath without the distraction of the boy. She pulled herself from the water, quickly rinsing and drying off. She disappeared for a moment, reappearing in her usual casual attire.

“I trust Edward showed you to your chambers?” Ryan asked, toweling her hair.

Ala nodded, still gazing down at the little boy. Ryan watched the scene, touched. Ala could be an extremely imposing figure, terrifying if she chose to be. And yet she held the boy as gently as if he had been a newborn. Ryan made the snap decision that if anything ever happened to her, she would entrust the boy to Ala.

Ryan stopped. That was an odd thought.

Ala looked up, and Ryan was not certain if Ala had read her thoughts or merely felt her emotions. Either way, Ala understood exactly what Ryan meant.

“I do not believe anything will ever happen to you, my liege.”

The significance of the statement as well as the title hung in the air. Ala had only used that designation with her father.

“But,” Ala continued, “if the need should ever arise, I will protect the boy with my life and care for him as my own.”

Ryan nodded, deeply grateful for the loyalty and allegiance to both her and her son. But she could not shake the strange disquiet the earlier thought had created. On cue, Edward appeared and collected Drake. Ala handed the now sleeping boy to the manservant while her gaze remained upon Ryan. Ryan approached and settled beside her, enjoying the warmth, both physical and spiritual, that emanated from Ala.

“You are still having your visions,” Ala said.

Although Ryan had only known Ala a few years, Ala often had more insight into her than those who had known her for centuries. Ryan knew that Victor possessed the first sight, an ability to sense future events, although he claimed he could see them only dimly. Ala had a different gift, an ability to sense things as they occurred, regardless of distance. Many of their Kind possessed the ability to sense one another from afar. But Ala’s abilities went beyond that.

“I am seeing many strange things these days,” Ryan said, “and I am not certain why.” She thought about the strange, reptilian creature that seemed to lurk just beyond the edge of the netherworld. A symbolic figment of her imagination she was certain, but one whose meaning she could not determine. The fear the creature inspired was definitely real, an emotion that was deeply unfamiliar to Ryan.

Ala felt the wide range of the girl’s emotions, allowing them to drift through her without contact so that she could experience them fully. Ryan continued.

“I actually feel as if I am seeing through someone’s eyes, someone who is not of our Kind, and someone I believe predates even my father.”

Ala’s eyes widened. She had always been fascinated by the fact that none of their Kind had any knowledge of where they came from. Even Victor’s mind was completely blank concerning his origins. The fact that the girl might be sensing some trace of that beginning was enormously significant. It was extremely exciting to Ala, whose traditions of her native culture placed great emphasis on ancestry.

“None of it is clear,” Ryan said, shaking her head. She seemed frustrated. “And I don’t know that any of it means anything.”

Her thoughts on the matter quite different, Ala held her tongue. It was better not to influence the girl at this time, rather better to let the visions continue until they coalesced. She rose to her feet effortlessly, proffering her hand to Ryan.

“I understand you have spent the week satisfying the Old Ones.”

Ryan took the hand, also rising to her feet. She smiled at the remark as Ala continued.

“And yet you yourself have not fed.”

There was slight scolding in the remark, and a trace of curiosity.

“I was running an experiment,” Ryan said mischievously, “I wanted to see how much my system could bear.”

Ala’s rebuke was gentle and without sting. “I fear Dr. Ryerson is a bad influence on you.” Her tone lowered to a conspiratorial whisper as the two started toward the door. “So how is your experiment coming along?”

The invitation in that low, melodic voice was unmistakable. Ryan closed her eyes as the warmth of Ala settled over her.

“I think it’s over now.”

Many hours later, Ala watched as the girl slept. Kokumuo fussed over her a bit, making certain she was comfortable in her near-unconscious state. Ala inwardly smiled. Kokumuo was not one to fuss over anyone, but he did so now over a creature who was indestructible and invulnerable. Astonishing the effect this girl had on all of their Kind. Ala wondered if that blue-eyed youngster would have a similar effect, and somehow knew that he would.

There was a brief knock at the door and Kusunoki entered. Kokumuo excused himself, nodding respectfully as he departed. Kusunoki settled beside Ala, and the comfortable silence that ensued bespoke of the long companionship they had enjoyed.

It was Kusunoki who finally broke that silence.

“And so the pieces are moved about the board once more.”

Ala contemplated his words before replying.

“Yes, but is it a chess board or are we playing Go?” Ala asked.

It was a wise question, and Go was perhaps the better answer. Both were games of strategy and tactics, but unlike chess, where the objective was the absolute defeat of the opponent by capturing the King, the objective of Go was to control the largest part of the board. Stones were placed on a grid and were captured when surrounded on all sides by stones of the opposing color. The goal was to form territories that could not be captured by an opponent. The game ended when neither player could move. It was perhaps a better metaphor for the endless stratagems of their Kind.

Kusunoki watched the sleeping girl. Although Ryan had been Changed at the age of nineteen, she generally had an ageless quality about her that could make her appear much older. Right now she did not even look nineteen. He returned to the metaphor thoughtfully.

“At least in Go, the stones remain the same color. In our version, the colors seem to change at whim.”

Ala carefully thought of Abigail, careful in that her thoughts were shielded. She knew how powerful the matriarch was, and her proximity made her even more so. Ala would not resist a barb, however.

“Yes,” she agreed, “and some of those stones don’t seem to be black or white.”

Muffled laughter came from her companion. Kusunoki appreciated Ala’s caution, but her fearlessness even more. He again grew contemplative.

He had spent hours playing Go with Ryan. She always chose the black stones; he always played the white. In her youth, he had beaten her often. Now, those victories were far less frequent. He was as proud of her skill at the game as he was her skill with a sword, and he had taught her both.

“I don’t know,” Ala said thoughtfully, “even if those stones keep changing colors, somehow I see Ryan sitting with a board full of black stones at the end of the game.”

Kusunoki silently agreed.

CHAPTER 14

AMBROSIUS STARED INTO THE FLAMES of his fire. His hill fortress was secure, but he had a sense of foreboding at the moment, a sense he had learned to pay heed to. These many years since Tristan’s death had brought great responsibility to him, and although the warlords were numerous, none were as powerful as he.

Some, however, were far more destructive, intentionally or not. Ambrosius raised his head as the Welsh messenger arrived.

“Let me guess,” Ambrosius said, “Infaustus has struck again.”

The messenger hid a smile. “Infaustus” was not Gwrtheyrn’s name, but it was how the great commander referred to him. It meant “unlucky” with a connotation of great incompetence.

“My lord, the Saxon mercenaries Gwrtheyrn allowed to settle are beginning to cause trouble. There is even rumor that his actions have created a perception of weakness and cowardice, and the Saxons are planning a full invasion.”

“That would not surprise me,” Ambrosius said, sighing. If anything, the Saxons were consistent. They respected only force. “And where might this invasion force be staging?”

The messenger swallowed hard. “It is rumored that troops are gathering at Mynydd Baddon.”

“Mons Badonicus,” Ambrosius murmured to himself. An interesting choice. It was terrain that would favor a large attacking force. The Saxons must be coming en mass.

“Send words throughout my lands,” Ambrosius said, “any man who will follow me should gather before the full moon.”

The messenger nodded, grateful for the commander’s quick action. And every man he knew would follow this one.

Ambrosius walked through the camp, respectfully greeted by all he passed. It was the night before battle and there was much tension in the air as last-minute preparations were made. Seasoned veterans spoke quietly amongst themselves while checking their battle-gear one last time. Novice youths who days before had bragged to one another of their future exploits now sat nervously in silence, somberly gazing into the campfires. The presence of the commander brought calm and reassurance to both the veteran and the raw recruit as he made his way through the camp.

Ambrosius himself was not afraid. He had been in too many battles now to feel fear. Instead, he felt a tension that was almost pleasant, an anticipation to engage in the activity for which he had been born.

As was his custom after making his rounds, Ambrosius walked into the forest alone. He would remain in solitude for the next few hours, at first mentally rehearsing his battle strategy, then calming his mind to stillness. His senior officers knew not to disturb him.

Ambrosius settled on a large rock. The moon shone brightly enough that he could clearly see the forest around him.

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