Gail Martin - Dark Haven

Jonmarc did not doubt that this was Uri, the last of the Blood Council. Although Gabriel's description beforehand had been carefully neutral, Jonmarc had no difficulty detecting Gabriel's dislike for the fifth member of the Council.

Jonmarc stepped forward. Gabriel moved closer, as did Riqua. "I'm Jonmarc Vahanian."

"Mighty fine company for a fight slave."

"I've heard you know something of betting yourself." It took a moment for Jonmarc to realize that Uri's taunt had been spoken in Nargi, and that he had reflexively answered in the same language.

Uri's black eyes glinted. His young men moved around him like feral dogs, and Jonmarc drew on his battle skills to avoid showing the fear he felt. These vayash moru were unrepentant predators, and it was clear Uri was in the mood for a fight. One of Uri's brood looked intently at Jonmarc. The young man hair that fell to his shoulders. He was dressed completely in black with the exception of a foppishly frilled white shirt; the sleeves flounced beneath his cuffs, nearly obscuring his hands. The young man's smile was cold, and Jonmarc was sure it was no coincidence that the man's eye teeth showed plainly.

"So you were General Kathrian's champion.", Uri shook his head. "Guess you're not so tough any more. I heard Darrath nearly sent you to the Lady."

It took all of Jonmarc's control not to let his hand fall to the pommel of his sword. "State your business," he said in the Common tongue.

Uri stepped closer. Had the man been mortal, Jonmarc would have sworn him drunk, or besotted on dreamweed. His face was flushed, evidence that he had recently fed well. Jonmarc guessed that Uri had once been in fighting shape, although his love of fine living rounded his jowls and softened his profile. "My business? I have no business with a mortal Lord of Dark Haven. And you have no business here at all!"

"That's enough, Uri." Gabriel moved forward, but Uri brushed past him.

"Let the pup speak for himself, Gabriel.If he's going to be Lord of Dark Haven, then he needs to be worthy of the title." Uri turned his attention back to Jonmarc, who stood his ground although Uri was now nearly toe to toe. "What gives you the right to rule over your betters?" Uri's breath smelled of stale blood.

Jonmarc consciously willed himself not to clench his fists. This is a fight you can't win. Surprise Carina and show that you can think your way out of a brawl. "The title was a gift from King Staden. The lands were his to bestow. Maybe you're better off asking him."

Uri snorted. "What do I care for mortal kings? They come and go like dust. We are the rightful lords-of Dark Haven and the Winter Kingdoms. That day is coming, sooner than you think." He gave an ugly smile that made his yellowed teeth plain. "Now if you'd like to be brought across, that changes things."

"No, thank you."

"I offer you immortality, and you decline!" Uri roared.

By now, the guests around them were plainly uncomfortable. Most of the partygoers had stepped back to give Uri plenty of room. Although Jonmarc kept his gaze focused on Uri, out of the corner of his eye he saw motion. Riqua's brood moved toward the front of the spectators. So did others, whom he knew to be among Gabriel's family.

"Answer me, Lord of Dark Haven. Who are you to decline the power of the Dark Gift?"

Jonmarc knew he was on very dangerous ground. While many of the vayash moru around him might have long ago been brought

across against their will, those who had survived for lifetimes had made their peace with it, and came to see their deathless state as both gift and curse. "Death and I are old friends," Jonmarc answered carefully. "We've shaken hands many times. I don't covet eternal life. Once around is enough for me."

"You presume to rule over us as an inferior being. How dare you! Perhaps you need to learn who your real masters are!"

There was a rush of air, a blur of motion, and Jonmarc felt strong hands pull him backward just as a flash of teeth grazed his throat. Instinctively, he reached for his sword. He twisted and realized Kolin had a casually unbreakable hold on his right arm. He was too far back from the action to use either his sword or his arrow, even if he could have broken free. Riqua was now between him and Uri, although Jonmarc had not seen her move. Yestin was nowhere to be seen, but with a growl, a large male wolf barreled toward Uri, even as Gabriel caught the vayash moru-by the wrists and flung him backward.

All but one of Uri's guards circled Gabriel. The beautiful dark-haired young man in black stayed back, studying the fight. Two of Riqua's brood, a man and a young woman, blocked the advance on the left, while three of Gabriel's vayash moru engaged the assault on the right. Although Jonmarc had gained a healthy respect for the fighting skills of the vayash moru from his sparring partners, he had never seen the undead go against each other.

Jonmarc knew he would have bruises as he struggled to free himself and join the fight. "Leave this to us," Kolin rasped near Jon-marc's ear. "This is our matter." Jonmarc could sense Kolin's tension.

Gabriel hurjed one of Uri's men against the wall hard enough to have killed a mortal. The exchange of blows was faster than sight could follow. The wolf connected with Uri's chest, knocking the vayash moru to the ground. Uri cuffed the wolf and sent it flying.

Once before, Jonmarc had seen Gabriel fight, although it had been against drunken mortals in a back alley. Now, though both Gabriel and Uri were vayash morru, Gabriel out-maneuvered his opponent with ease, sidestepping Uri's strikes.

As suddenly as it began, the fight was over. Three of Uri's guards struggled to their feet, staggered but unhurt. The wolf was gone. Gabriel reached down and grabbed Uri by the collar.

"You will never enter my houses again," Gabriel said. He shook Uri with distaste. "Jonmarc Vahanian rules Dark Haven at the favor of the Dark Lady. As Her servant, I am oath-bound to protect him."

Uri brushed himself off. "You see a pathetic shadow of the Lady. She made us like gods to rule with her as gods. The days of the mortals

are ending. The days of the truce-and the Council-are over." He gave a curt signal and his guards joined him, even the darkly beautiful young man who had watched the fight from the sidelines. Something about those deathless blue eyes made Jonmarc shiver.

"You're bleeding." Gabriel's voice broke the silence after the doors of Wolvenskorh slammed shut behind Uri and his brood. Only then did Jonmarc feel the warmth at his throat. He raised his hand to his neck; his fingers came away covered with blood.

Gabriel withdrew a kerchief and pressed it against the wound. "It's not deep. He was hoping to frighten you." He chuckled dryly. "I don't think he expected the fight he got."

Jonmarc hoped that his hands were steadier than his knees. I'm the only mortal in a roomful of vayash moru. I'm bleeding. And they all saw that I can't even fight them. Great. Just great.

Rafe and Tamaq stepped up beside Gabriel. Gabriel rounded on them with a suddenness that took Rafe aback. "Uri violated sanctuary, broke Council law, and moved against the Lord of Dark Haven. Yet you and Astasia did nothing."

Rafe raised an eyebrow. "You and Riqua had things under control. Were you expecting an open brawl?"

"I expected a show of support."

"Uri will calm down."

Riqua pushed forward. "Will he? Uri just declared both the truce and the Council to be dissolute. He's gone rogue."

Rafe shook his head. "Uri has the same temper that got him killed as a mortal. He'll come around. I think he wanted to make a grand display and get everybody's attention."

"I hope you're right," Gabriel said. Jonmarc kept the kerchief pressed against his neck, unwilling to bare his blood in this company. Yestin stepped up beside Gabriel. The young man's cheek bore a purpling bruise, and he was limping. Eiria moved toward him with concern, but Yestin waved her away.