Corrupted blood lord

Teclos and Serenna returned to the Black Thread cellar after nightfall.

Harven was still awake.

He sat behind the central table with three ledgers open around him and a cup of tea gone cold beside his elbow. Maela stood near the map, sorting reports into piles.

Both looked up when Teclos entered.

Harven’s eyes moved over the blood on his coat, then to Serenna.

"How bad?"

"Three vampires," Teclos said.

Maela stopped sorting.

"All dead?"

"Yes."

Harven closed the nearest ledger.

"That sounds like the kind of answer that creates more work."

"It does."

Teclos removed the coded message and placed it on the table. Serenna leaned against the wall while Harven read.

"House Drennar," he said. "I’ve heard the name from merchants, but not often."

"They keep a residence near Sorn," Teclos said. "Messages pass through the old tax office."

Maela looked at Serenna. "You know them?"

"I know of them."

"What does that mean?"

"They serve Vael’thorr when it suits them and pretend they don’t when it doesn’t."

Harven rubbed his thumb across the edge of the paper.

"How far is Sorn?"

"Three days by the western road," Teclos said.

"Two if we don’t stop," Serenna added.

Teclos looked at her.

"We’re stopping."

"You just told me they may be warned."

"And arriving exhausted helps us how?"

"I won’t be exhausted."

"I will."

Serenna glanced at the half-healed cut beneath his coat.

"You should have used the potion sooner."

"I used it."

"After walking back to the city."

Harven looked between them, then lowered his eyes to the message.

Maela noticed anyway.

"What exactly are you planning to do in Sorn?"

"Find the tax office," Teclos said. "Learn who uses it. Kill anyone connected to Vael’thorr."

"That isn’t much of a plan," Harven said. "That’s what happens once you find them."

Teclos pulled a chair back and sat.

"Then give me something better."

Harven turned the map toward himself.

Sorn lay west of Veyron’s territory, beyond two mining villages and a stretch of hills controlled by smaller nobles. The town had grown around silver and iron mines, with caravans moving through it every week.

Maela pointed to the western road.

"You can’t enter as yourselves. News from the bridge may travel ahead of you."

"No one escaped," Teclos said.

"People still saw you leave the city. Stable hands talk. Gate guards talk more."

Serenna moved closer to the table.

"What would you use as cover?"

"A merchant escort," Maela said. "Two armed men traveling alone attract attention. Two guards attached to a caravan don’t."

"We don’t have a caravan," Teclos said.

"We have three leaving tomorrow."

Harven opened another ledger.

"Salt, tools, and lamp oil. The lamp-oil merchant is the easiest. He owes Silek money."

Serenna looked at Teclos. "You’ve had this group for a month."

"Yes."

"And they already own merchants?"

"We don’t own him."

Harven dipped his pen in ink.

"He owes us enough that the distinction is not very important."

Teclos considered the route.

"What’s the merchant’s name?"

"Darel Vos. His wagons leave through the western gate at dawn."

"Tell him he has two more guards."

Harven began writing.

Maela looked at Serenna’s borrowed face.

"You’ll both need different clothes."

Serenna looked down at the brown coat.

"What’s wrong with this?"

"Every witness at the Broken Crown described it."

"The reports described six different people."

"They all mentioned the coat."

Serenna was quiet for a moment.

Teclos removed his own torn coat and placed it across the table.

"Find two that won’t be remembered."

Maela picked it up between two fingers.

"This one should be burned."

"It can be repaired."

"It has blood from at least four people on it."

"Most of it isn’t mine."

"That doesn’t improve it."

She left with both coats.

Harven looked back at the coded message.

"Who stays in charge while you’re gone?"

"You," Teclos said.

Harven’s pen stopped.

"I handle reports."

"You already make most of the decisions."

"I make small decisions. Payments. Routes. Which rumors matter."

"That’s most of it."

Harven stared at him.

Maela returned before he could answer, carrying two plain travel coats.

"You’ll manage," she said. "If something serious happens, send for him."

Harven looked from one to the other.

"I dislike how quickly everyone agreed."

Teclos stood.

"We leave at dawn."

Serenna folded her new coat over one arm.

"Two days."

"Three."

"We’ll see."

—

Darel Vos proved to be a round man with a red beard and the permanent expression of someone who had just discovered an unexpected expense.

He inspected Teclos and Serenna beside his wagons before sunrise.

"I was told I was receiving guards."

"You were," Teclos said.

Darel looked at Serenna’s disguise.

"He doesn’t carry a sword."

"I don’t need one," Serenna said.

"That is not reassuring."

Teclos lifted one of the merchant’s iron-bound crates and placed it onto the rear wagon without effort.

Darel watched him.

"That helps."

The caravan left with four wagons, six hired drivers, and two guards who knew better than to question why their numbers had suddenly doubled.

For most of the first day, the road stayed crowded.

Farmers brought produce east. Miners walked toward the hills in groups. Patrols bearing Veyron’s colors passed twice before noon.

Serenna rode beside the second wagon.

She had altered the disguise slightly. The gray in her hair was gone, and the borrowed face looked several years younger. Maela’s dark travel coat made her look like any other mercenary hoping for work.

Teclos rode beside her.

"You changed the face."

"The last one is connected to the tavern."

"Why keep the same voice?"

"No one remembers voices as well as they think."

Darel turned from the driver’s seat.

"I remember voices."

Serenna looked at him.

"Do you?"

The merchant faced the road again.

"Not always."

Teclos waited until they passed a group of riders before speaking.

"What do you know about Mereth?"

Serenna’s hands rested loosely on the reins.

"Very little that will help us."

"Tell me anyway."

"She was born into Drennar. Old enough to have influence, not old enough to lead the house. She manages property, money, and arrangements they don’t want connected to the main family."

"So Sorn is one of those arrangements."

"Probably."

"And Selrik?"

Her expression changed slightly.

"You remembered that name."

"He works for Luther."

"He serves Vael’thorr. That doesn’t mean he answers to Luther directly."

"Is there a difference?"

"To them, yes."

Teclos looked ahead.

The road curved through low hills where abandoned watch posts stood above the fields.

"Would he recognize you?"

"Yes."

"Then we kill him before he sends anything."

"If he’s actually in Sorn."

"You don’t think he is?"

"I think the collector gave us a name because he wanted to live. That doesn’t make every part of his answer reliable."

Teclos nodded.

"That’s why we look first."

Serenna glanced at him.

"You usually prefer killing first."

"I can do both."

"That is not the same thing."

Darel looked back again.

"Are you two always like this?"

Teclos and Serenna both looked at him.

The merchant turned back toward the road.

"I’ll speak to the horses."

—

They camped near a patrol station that evening.

Darel’s men slept beside the wagons. Teclos remained near the fire while Serenna disappeared into the hills.

She returned an hour later with a little color restored to her borrowed face.

Teclos looked up from the map.

"Did you feed?"

"Yes."

"On what?"

"A poacher."

"Is he alive?"

"He was when I left."

That was enough for him.

She sat across from the fire.

Teclos handed her the map.

"Sorn has three gates. The old tax office is here, near the southern wall."

She studied it.

"The mines enter from the west. If they move prisoners or bodies, they won’t use the main streets."

"There’s a drainage channel behind the office."

"Large enough for a person?"

"Maybe."

Serenna returned the map.

"You should sleep."

"So should you."

"I don’t need as much."

"That isn’t the same as none."

For a moment, she looked like she might argue.

Instead, she lay down on the other side of the fire and folded her coat beneath her head.

Teclos returned to the map.

Some time later, he realized she had moved closer to the flames.

He placed another piece of wood on the fire and said nothing.

—

They reached Sorn late on the second afternoon.

Serenna had been right about the travel time.

The town sat between two rocky hills, surrounded by soot-stained walls. Mine carts rattled through the western gate, while wagons loaded with tools, food, and lamp oil crowded the road.

Smoke hung above the rooftops.

Darel presented his papers at the gate.

The guards barely looked at Teclos and Serenna. Merchants entered with hired blades every day.

Inside, the air smelled of coal dust, sweat, and hot iron.

Darel stopped near a warehouse district.

"This is where we part."

"You still owe Silek," Teclos said.

The merchant’s face fell.

"I thought bringing you settled that."

"It settled part of it."

"How much?"

"I don’t know."

Darel looked genuinely wounded.

"That is a cruel thing to say to a man with accounts."

Serenna handed him a silver coin.

"For the horses."

Darel accepted it.

"I prefer you."

"You barely know me."

"I know you pay."

"That’s enough for most friendships," Teclos said.

Darel appeared to consider that before returning to his wagons.

Teclos and Serenna found an inn overlooking the southern market.

The innkeeper had only one room left.

Teclos looked at Serenna.

She looked back at him.

"The floor is yours," she said.

"It has one bed."

"I noticed."

"You don’t sleep much."

"I still prefer beds."

Teclos paid before the innkeeper became interested in the discussion.

The room was small, with a bed, a table, and a window facing the old tax office across the market.

Its stone walls were darker than the surrounding buildings. The front door had been boarded up, and no sign suggested anyone used it.

Teclos opened Dark Sense.

He felt movement below the building.

Three people.

Possibly four.

Too deep for a normal cellar.

Serenna stood beside the window.

"There are no guards outside."

"They don’t need them."

"Did you sense something?"

"Below us."

She closed her eyes.

After several seconds, her expression hardened.

"Vampire blood."

"How many?"

"I can smell two. There may be more."

Teclos looked toward the market.

Too many people still moved between the stalls.

"We wait until dark."

Serenna nodded.

Neither argued.

—

They entered through the drainage channel shortly after midnight.

The iron grate had been locked from the inside. Teclos passed through its shadow and opened it for Serenna.

The tunnel beyond was narrow and wet. It sloped beneath the tax office before ending at a stone wall covered in old mortar.

Serenna pressed one ear against it.

"Someone’s breathing on the other side."

"Human?"

"Yes."

Teclos formed a thin blade of darkness and cut through the mortar without allowing the stones to fall.

He removed one block and looked through.

A man sat tied to a chair in the cellar beyond.

His head hung forward. Dried blood covered his shirt.

Two more prisoners lay against the wall.

Serenna looked through the opening.

"They’re alive."

"Can you smell the vampires?"

"Above us."

Teclos removed enough stones for them to pass.

They entered quietly.

The prisoner in the chair lifted his head.

One eye had swollen shut.

"Who are you?"

Teclos crouched beside him.

"How many are upstairs?"

The man swallowed.

"Three. Maybe four."

"What are they doing here?"

"I don’t know."

Serenna knelt beside one of the others and checked his breathing.

The prisoner looked at her borrowed face.

"They took us from the western road. Asked about caravans coming from Veyron’s lands."

"What else?" Teclos asked.

"A man with red eyes. An old prisoner in chains. They showed us drawings."

Teclos’s expression cooled.

"Did you tell them anything?"

"I told them I hadn’t seen anyone. I haven’t."

That was probably true.

Serenna examined the rope around the second prisoner’s wrists.

"These marks are fresh. They were going to move them."

"Where?" Teclos asked.

The man in the chair shook his head.

"One of them mentioned the lower mine."

Footsteps sounded above.

Teclos and Serenna both looked toward the stairs.

A lock turned.

Serenna rose.

Teclos moved beside the door.

The prisoner began breathing faster.

"Please," he whispered.

Teclos held one finger to his lips.

The door opened.

A pale woman in a dark dress stepped into the cellar carrying a lantern.

She saw the missing stones first.

Then Serenna.

Her hand moved toward her throat.

Teclos caught her shadow before she could call out.

Darkness wrapped around her mouth and arms.

Serenna crossed the room and struck her beneath the ribs.

The vampire folded without making a sound.

Teclos lowered her to the floor.

"Alive?" he asked.

"For now."

The prisoners stared at them.

Serenna turned toward the staircase.

"Someone else is coming."

More footsteps moved above them.

Not one person.

Several.

Teclos drew his dark blade.

Serenna’s borrowed eyes reddened beneath the amulet.

A voice shouted from the upper floor.

The cellar door slammed open.

Teclos smiled.

"They know we’re here."

Serenna stepped beside him.

"This time, try not to get held against anyone’s chest."

Teclos glanced at her.

"No promises."

Then the stairs filled with enemies.