The Long War 02 - The Dark Blood by A.J. Smith Read Free Book Online

smile.
    ‘Very well, my lady, I shall await your pleasure.’
    He was a sweet man, but, in Saara’s estimation, too devoted to the treacherous Fire Giant to be of much use now that the occupation was proceeding. She found herself requiring the services of Izra Sabal and Turve Ramhe and the armies they commanded, rather than lone warriors like Kamran. Each of her hound packs travelled with a number of captive forest-dwellers, ready to be killed should the Dark Young be needed. As a result, her military strength was greater than any of her enemies knew. The force of Red knights in Ranen was a significant loss to Tor Funweir and she had plans to order the Red cardinal, General Malaki Frith, to take the remaining knights north, thus neutralizing both the Ranen and the armies of the One God.
    Her headache returned with greater intensity and Saara walked away from the bed. Her devotion to Shub-Nillurath was without question, but the Dead God’s victory in the Long War was now far from certain and she knew that idle time was working against her, as was this near-constant pain. More worrying was the effect her lack of focus would have on her thralls. The king of Tor Funweir was engaged in her war from the southlands of Ranen. Could her pain unblance a thrall? At least Cardinal Mobius, Purple cleric and advisor to the king, was under the command of her sister, Katja the Hand of Despair.
    Saara held her hand to her eyes, breathing deeply. She could feel each of her thralls as if they were a part of her, and each of Ameira’s, unwanted interlopers intruding on her carefully ordered mind.
    Give me the strength of the Forest Giants, my master . She hoped that the Dead God would sense her concern and lend her the power to combat it. She had made the same prayer each day since Ameira had been murdered, but Shub-Nillurath had yet to answer.
    She left the bedchamber quickly and crossed the dark hallway to her dressing room opposite. Duke Lyam of Weir was a weak old man who had willingly given up most of his offices to the enchantress and her followers, and she had done her best to make them comfortable in the last month. The hounds she commanded needed little comfort, but the merchant princes and mobsters who had arrived demanded more opulence. Money was an important factor in her occupation and, until Izra secured Cozz, Saara needed the wealth of Kessia to keep her followers amenable.
    She rubbed her eyes again and reached for a small hexagonal container on her dressing table. The gold and silver box contained a small amount of rainbow smoke. It did help, though the effect lasted only a short time.
    She lit a small pipe, took a deep breath, and held the smoke in for a moment before breathing out slowly. She felt the effects flow through her body and her muscles relaxed for the first time since waking.
    * * *
    At the bottom of the duke’s residence was a lush garden arranged across three levels. It was a well-tended area with beds of flowers and open lawns, with ornate fountains perched on plinths and marble steps linking the levels. Saara had had it cleared the previous evening. Now only a few trusted wind claws patrolled the peripheries of the area, a guard against curious eyes.
    She had selected a large forest-dweller the previous evening and had the creature killed and left on the duke’s lawn.
    ‘My lady.’ The wind claw Kal Varaz stood guard, holding his two ceremonial kris blades across his chest, with his pattern-welded black armour shining in the morning sun.
    ‘Good morning, Kal.’ Saara coyly fluttered her eyelashes. ‘You have been on duty all night?’
    ‘Indeed, my lady, though several of my brothers needed to leave once the... transformation began,’ he replied. She thought she saw fear in his dark eyes.
    Saara smiled warmly and touched the man’s face. ‘You are my strong right hand, sweet Kal Varaz. What would I do without you.’ She let her hand linger on his cheek. Pleasure rose in her body as she used her