James Lowder - Spectre Of The Black Rose

Lord Aderre strode purposefully to the bridge's terminus, the very brink of Invidia's southern border. Even had he wished it, he could have gone no farther. Within their domains the dark lords ruled supreme, but those same domains were prisons, too.

The half-breeds took up positions flanking Malocchio, but a few respectful paces behind him. They kept their gazes turned down, their slender-fingered hands clasped before them like monks at prayer. The rest of Aderre's forces moved restlessly among the horses and trees, clearly ill at ease. The ogres and human soldiers didn't really appreciate the restraint required for this sort of politicking. Their style of negotiations involved clubs and burning brands.

For a few moments, neither Soth nor Malocchio spoke. It was as if some unwritten rule decreed the first exchange would be an admission of weakness. The stalemate might have continued until the sun set and long after had Magda not spoiled the game.

Whatever dread Malocchio had inspired in the Vistana was gone, banished by the man's appearance. Such was often the way with fear, she'd found; the half-hidden beast was always more frightening than the thing crouched in the open- not less dangerous, of course, but easier to cope with.

"How long do you two proud birds plan to perch in this spot?" she asked brusquely. "Winter's not far off, you know. If it's going to be a long wait, we should look for something warm to feather our nests with."

"Silence that refuse clinging to your cloak," Malocchio spat. When he realized he'd been baited into speaking first, he reflexively warded himself against Vistani magic. With a V formed by two fingers of his left hand, he bracketed his eye.

Magda smiled inwardly at the superstitious sign. She'd needed no magic to trip Aderre's tongue. For all his facade of composure, this butcher was not so certain of his footing here. That might explain the show of force, too. The louder the clatter of arms, the less noticeable the quaver in the general's voice.

Lord Soth, too, seemed to sense the young man's uneasiness, for his first words were as provoking as they were unexpected. "My ally is unskilled in the ways of nobility," the death knight began. "I will not ask you to forgive her, for it would be below one of your rank not to do so."

Malocchio swallowed whatever caustic reply leapt to his tongue. From the pained expression on his face, it burned like molten lead. He gestured to one of the half-elves, who stepped forward and unrolled a piece of parchment. In a voice that held far more confidence than it should have, he read: " 'In the name of justice and honor, the citizens of Invidia demand the extradition of Magda Kulchevich and all Vistani traveling with her, be they formal members of the band of thieves known as the Wanderers or merely-' " "Enough," Soth said.

The half-elf glanced up from the page. Whether he was supremely foolish or merely convinced of his safety because of his proximity to Lord Aderre, he dropped his gaze back to the edict and continued. " 'Or merely those citizens of Sithicus known to her as carrying the taint of Vistani blood. Her crimes are many, but include-'"

Lord Soth spoke again, this time a single word of magic. Only one person heard the word. As soon as it left Soth's lips, the half-elf who so boldly proclaimed the extradition edict dropped his parchment. A startled look crossed his face before he doubled over in pain. He sprawled on the road for a moment, twitching violently, as the word did its work. A thin ooze that had been his brains seeped from his ears and nose. He vomited up the tattered remnants of his guts. Still the word of power careened inside his increasingly hollow shell, slicing through everything in its way, until finally the half-elf's skin lay empty on the ground.

"I did not come here to listen to the demands of 'the people of Invidia,'" Soth noted. "But they have my answer anyway. Now, Lord Aderre, we have matters of state to discuss."

"He was under my protection," Malocchio said darkly.

"I understand," Soth replied, "but I told him to stop. His impudence is to blame for his death, not your failings as a protector."

Malocchio mocked a bow. "How kind of you to clear my name."

Soth acknowledged the remark with the barest tilt of his head.

As the lord of Invidia straightened, he produced a dagger. "I'll be certain to offer you the same courtesy after I've corrected that Vistani witch for her earlier impertinence."

"It would be amusing to see you try," Soth said calmly, "but I will do you the favor of preventing you from dishonoring yourself in front of your troops." He gestured to Aderre's dagger. "Unless you plan to raise that blade against me, I would suggest you sheathe it."

The Invidian troops stirred. The human soldiers were disciplined enough not to draw their swords, but the ogres raised their clubs and muttered threats. All were ready to charge, awaiting only the word of Lord Aderre.

"It's tempting," Malocchio said after a tense moment. He slipped the dagger back into his sleeve and continued, "You rested far too long upon your throne of dust. Things have changed while you slumbered, dead man. Powers have arisen that do not fear you."

"They should," Soth said. "The carcass flapping at your feet like a torn sail should be proof enough of that."

Malocchio shrugged. "They say your kingdom fares little better than this unfortunate soul. Travelers carry back reports of-"

"To the heart of the matter at last," Soth interrupted. "Call them travelers or agents or spies, I will have no more of your minions crossing into my domain."

"Your own people are more than happy to help me," Malocchio said snidely. "They'll tell me everything they know about you, about your land, about anything, so long as I don't send them back to Sithicus."

He pulled the remaining half-elf forward; the fellow was so shocked by the fate of his twin that he could only stare. Malocchio looked at him and laughed. "He doesn't seem too bright, but that's what you get with half-breeds, eh? Of course, you wouldn't know about that. Against your military code to sire bastards, I would think."

Magda gritted her teeth. Here, at last, she understood the reason Malocchio had trotted out these particular traitors. They were a test. One was meant to gauge the death knight's magic, the other to discern the state of his memory. Malocchio must have learned enough of Soth's history to know about the son he'd fathered with the elf maid.

The Vistana opened her mouth to respond, to say something that would spoil Malocchio's test. She never got the chance. Lord Soth waved one gauntleted hand, as if to wipe the trembling half-elf from existence. "Enough of these games," the death knight rumbled. "You dally with the past, and I am here to discuss the future."

"Then we have nothing to discuss." Malocchio shoved the half-elf aside. The cracked facade of civility was gone, shattered finally by a towering rage. "The future belongs to me, and you forfeited any place in it by consorting with that Vistani trash. I mean to purge every last one of her kind from the world, dead man. Do not doubt that for one moment."

"I do not doubt your intent," Soth replied coolly, "and I care nothing for the fate of the gypsies within your lands. But know that Magda and her troupe are my subjects, my allies. This alliance is as my power: unquestionable, inviolate. I will not stand for any discourtesy shown to her troupe by you or your agents."

Discourtesy, Magda mused. An odd term for the slaughter Aderre has in mind for us. She regarded the death knight, standing stiffly by her side. It's as if he's speaking from rote, she thought, drawing half-remembered words from his order's ancient code.

"Furthermore," Soth continued, "you will cease any traffic with my subjects, particularly the elves of the Iron Hills. You would be ill-advised to offer support to them or their leader."