The Lost Duke Page 2

  The old woman looked at the priest, her nervousness worsening. “Are… are we free to speak now?”

  Randall gave her a smile and a nod. “I carried out the rites exactly as prescribed in the old texts. No one may enter here without being specifically invited.”

  Keiran stopped examining the interior, spinning quickly to face Randall and Corina. “What rites? If we may speak freely finally, would you please explain to me what this is all about?”

  Father Beezle moved to Keiran and placed a hand on his shoulder. “There are certain rituals found in a few of the old, outlawed magic books we have archived at the cathedral. Now, while I’m generally not one for magic, I deemed these rites appropriate to assure our privacy from Athan should he be slinking around, trying to listen.”

  The young king quirked a brow. “Nothing like the sort of magic Peirte was into, I should hope?”

  Randall shook his head, only giving passing thought to the small demon he’d slain a few hours before. “Nothing of the sort. Just invocations of God’s power to make this place a temporary sanctuary. The spell only stops uninvited guests from entering.”

  At that moment, there was a thud back at the doorway, Kanan having struck something unseen as he’d tried to enter. He’d reeled back and fallen onto his seat on the stoop, mercifully not tumbling all the way down the stairs.

  Father Beezle winced. He’d performed the rites after Kanan had left earlier in the day. “Much like that, I’m afraid. Kanan Steiner, you are invited to enter.”

  The guard stood up and righted the hat he wore, trying to regain some of his dignity. He reached out with his hands, sweeping them before him as he again tried to enter, to assure himself there was nothing to run into the second time around.

  Once inside, he removed his cloak and hat, setting them onto the remains of a broken bench. “I’m almost hoping that bastard does show up, so we can see him do that.”

  Keiran wasn’t sure he liked the idea of magic being used after the trouble his father’s grand councillor had caused with it. Still, if it meant they were temporarily safe from Athan, he supposed it was justified. He looked around the interior, seeing it lit with a few randomly placed candles and oil lamps.

  Most of the church was in an advanced state of deterioration. The building was small, perhaps once accommodating a congregation of only twenty individuals. All the pews and benches within it had long-ago collapsed under their own weight, rotted from insects and constant exposure to the elements. Gaping holes in the roof allowed rain to make its way down into the interior of the building. Keiran was glad the floor was stone; had it been wood, they would have undoubtedly already fallen through it.

  “Where are we?” Keiran asked, looking toward the others.

  “This is the original church that was built in Tordan Lea,” Father Beezle said, offering a smile. “It’s been sitting abandoned for over a century, now.”

  “Are we?” Keiran replied, continuing to look around. “I’m surprised it’s still this intact.”

  There was a heavy scent beyond the decaying wetness of the structure. He quickly identified it as the smell of dirt. Keiran’s eyes fixed on what looked very much like a peasant’s coffin sitting on the floor where the chapel’s altar once stood.

  “What is that?” he asked, pointing toward the box.

  The other three all looked at one another before Corina decided to lead them into the conversation. “We need to tell you a story, first.”

  The back of Keiran’s neck bristled, and his eyes returned to the coffin. His nose wasn’t picking up the wretched stink of acute decomposition, and he dearly hoped the box contained anything but remains. He forced his attention away from it and moved to sit on one of the few dry spots on the floor, feeling they’d be there for a while.

  The others sat down as well, though their aged bodies made it a more difficult proposition. Once they were all settled, Keiran scanned over the group. These three were easily the wisest people he knew, and he dearly hoped they were about to let him in on the secret they’d kept from him since his birth.

  Corina gave Keiran a smile, folding her hands in her lap. “Now, as I told you before, when Turis Lee went petitioning for a new wife, Ilana volunteered and was quickly accepted.”

  Keiran gave a small nod, not having forgotten what she’d said a few months prior. “Aye, and you believed Athan was afraid of her.”

  “Indeed he was,” Kanan said. “Your mother’s entire reason for coming to Tordania was to get close to Athan to find an opportunity to kill him.”

  “A lone woman was enough to make Athan afraid?” Keiran asked.

  “She was no ordinary woman, and Athan was terrified of her. When he found out your father was bringing her to Tordania and marrying her, he was furious. Many of us wondered, at the time, if Athan was going to kill Turis Lee from the way they argued before her arrival,” Kanan said, giving a grunt and leaning back on his elbows. “He made Turis Lee swear to keep her under lock and key whenever he was in the castle.”

  “All right, but why such a reaction out of him?” Keiran asked, leaning forward. He’d never seen Athan act worried or afraid of anything in all of his life, and he couldn’t fathom what Ilana could have done.

  Corina looked at Kanan, continuing. “We didn’t know, either. It wasn’t until I earned her trust that she told me. Sadly, that meant I had to learn my lesson about who Athan was the hard way. Once I was pregnant and he turned on me, Ilana finally knew I was ready to learn how to stop him from manipulating me any further.”

  Kanan looked over and frowned, seeing the old pain still stirring within her. “I’m fortunate I didn’t have to go through something so horrible before Ilana brought me into her confidence.”

  “Aye, you always saw him for what he was.” The old woman offered him a smile before looking at Keiran. “As you know, Athan needs to get into people’s minds to read them. It’s something he’s become so accustomed to that when it doesn’t work, he feels blind and vulnerable. Ilana knew how to keep him out of her mind, so he never knew what she was intending. She taught Kanan and I how to hide individual thoughts as well, but it was nothing like she could do.”

  “As you have now taught me,” Keiran said quietly. “Go on.”

  “Ilana, being from Aleria, had some ingrained drive to try and eradicate vampires. Their country was once overrun with them. After the royal family was restored to the throne, the Aviatrovs sealed their borders and saw to it that every vampire within Aleria was slain,” Kanan added.

  “Rather sad her son should turn out to be one,” Keiran replied, looking down at his hands. “Still, if there were others in her family, why was she sent out alone to take care of Athan?”

  Corina sighed. “It would seem the Aviatrovs mostly concerned themselves with keeping vampires from entering or multiplying within Aleria. Ilana wanted more than that, though. She said repeatedly it was her intent to kill Athan as he was the most influential vampire left in the world. There was something odd in the way she reacted when she knew he was coming to the castle. I always got the feeling there was something personal in her history involving Athan. Though, she was never forthcoming with further details about what troubled her so much regarding him. Again, I think it was personal, whatever it was.”

  Keiran nodded again and sank into thought. There was more to the story of what happened before his birth, and he turned his attention to Kanan. “And what of my father’s first wife before all of this? I know in the back of my mind something horrible happened there, too.”

  “Your father’s first wife was a Veller,” Kanan said. “Risa Veller.”

  “She was from Weslan?” Keiran asked, recognizing the surname.

  “Aye,” Kanan replied, nodding. “A good woman, sent here before anyone knew what sort of a person Turis Lee really was. It took her many years to have a child, but eventually, Princess Kayla came along.”

  Keiran’s stare became intense. He’d heard hushed rumors all of his life about a princess bo
rn before him, but no one had ever openly discussed it with him. “And what became of them?”

  “Risa never conceived another child,” Corina whispered, feeling tears forming up in her eyes. “She was a lovely woman but suffered terrible mistreatment at Turis Lee’s hands. It worsened as the years progressed and no other children came. Eventually, she died of an extremely sudden and acute illness. We believe to this day Turis Lee had her poisoned, so he could pursue a new wife.”

  Keiran sat up straighter, moving his gaze between Corina and Kanan. While it didn’t seem out of his father’s character to have ordered the murder of his first wife, hearing it didn’t do him any favors. “And Kayla?”

  “Athan took her from the castle after you were born. She was allegedly a payment to Athan for turning you into what you are; ensuring a Sipesh would inherit the throne of the country. Turis Lee didn’t want a female heir in the equation, so it was a simple way for him to eliminate her. Turis Lee simply told everyone she’d died, but that was a lie.” Kanan reached over and set one of his large hands onto Corina’s shoulder, seeing the tears on her cheeks. “She was only seventeen at the time.”

  Corina appreciated the gesture and offered him a smile. “Aye, Kayla was such a special girl. I was assigned to her when I first arrived at the castle. I came to love her dearly. To lose her to Athan within days of my own child dying and Ilana passing… horrible. I’ve asked Athan whatever became of Kayla, hoping for some closure, but he revealed nothing. Something happened with her, I’m sure. He didn’t just take her away to kill her. I wish there was more I could say about it.”

  Keiran felt his anger spiking, and his fists clenched in his lap. “We have to find out what happened to my sister. I can’t imagine her surviving this long as Athan’s prisoner, but I’m going to have to find out. I think she’s owed at least that much.”

  Kanan shook his head. “There’s no way she’s still alive, Keiran, and going into Talaus is a little much at this point, even for you.”

  “My mother wanted to see to Athan’s demise, but she wasn’t able to do it. Perhaps I’m the next best chance of it being taken care of,” Keiran said, pushing himself back up.

  “Perhaps you are,” Father Beezle said. “Hence, why we’re here. Your mother had something she wanted given to you. She knew she wasn’t going to survive.”

  “Give me what?” Keiran asked.

  Kanan, Corina, and Randall all rose up as well, though with a bit more difficultly than Keiran.

  Corina came right up before the vampire and placed her hand in the middle of his chest. “Your mother brought something with her she’d smuggled out of Aleria when she’d left. A sword. My God how Athan looked for it within the castle, but he could never find it because he couldn’t read into Ilana’s mind to find its whereabouts.”

  “A sword? Why would she have to go to great lengths for such a thing?” Keiran asked.

  Kanan came over closer, too. “It was a unique relic. She said it had the ability to kill vampires as easily as any other sword could injure a man. Neither she nor we got to see if that was true, but there was definitely something odd about it. She told us it had to be kept away from everyone, lest they get sick simply from being exposed to it for too long.”

  “What does that mean?” Keiran looked over at the elder guard, his left brow quirking upward again.

  “When unsheathed, the sword… I don’t rightly know how to explain it.” Kanan paused, gesticulating with his hands as he tried to get his mind around it. “It put off a sort of heat and would slowly burn your skin. We never left it out or messed with it enough to see how much worse it got. Ilana assured us it would kill us if we lingered too close to its exposed blade for too long.”

  “Magic?” Keiran asked, not knowing what else it could be.

  Father Beezle shuffled closer. “Just a very odd metal with properties I don’t think we are yet poised to understand. Your mother gave the sword to Kanan the day before your birth, and he, in turn, gave it to me to hide. I needed to put it somewhere Athan would never find it, somewhere it wouldn’t make anyone sick.”

  Keiran turned toward the old priest. “And is that why we’re here?”

  “Aye.” Father Beezle nodded. “This place was left to be reclaimed by the forest. Those buried on its grounds were forgotten centuries ago.”

  “I suppose that’s as good a place to hide it as any, in an abandoned building,” Keiran said with a nod.

  “I didn’t hide it in the building, Keir.” Father Beezle looked immediately uncomfortable with the situation.

  The vampire moved closer toward the priest, locking gazes with him. Suddenly, his initial unease with the coffin at the front of the room returned tenfold. “What did you do, Randall?”

  “Turis Lee ordered Ilana’s body immediately disposed of after her death. He demanded she not be given her appropriate royal cremation, for her body to simply be made to disappear. He didn’t want anyone to see her. I brought her to this old graveyard and gave her at least a proper peasant’s burial,” he replied, starting to look nauseated. “I wasn’t just going to throw her in the river.”

  “So you buried her and put the sword with her?” Keiran asked, his writhing instincts already giving him the answer.

  Father Beezle looked shamed. “Aye, it was the best I could do, Keir. Corina asked me to get it several months ago, but with the ground frozen during the winter, this was the first chance I had to retrieve it.”

  Keiran took a step away from the trio and ran his hands down his face. He was absolutely certain he didn’t want the damn sword if it had been with his mother’s rotting body in the wet ground for nearly two-and-a-half decades. “I don’t think I’m up for this.”

  Kanan moved over to his side. “Keir, if you ever intend to go after Athan… Look, Ilana believed it was the way to kill him. If anyone should have this sword, it has to be you.”

  He gave the guard a sidelong glance. “Couldn’t you have just taken the sword out of her coffin and given it to me without,” he stopped and waved toward the coffin, “without all of this?”

  “We all agreed it had to be done by you,” Randall confessed quietly. “Or, rather, I did. I worried that even though the sword is sheathed, it would make us ill to breathe the air in her coffin once it’s opened after being sealed up for so long. The sword will only harm you, however, if it cuts you.”

  “Or so you hope,” Keiran added, not having much confidence left. “Where did the sword come from originally?”

  “She never said,” Corina replied. “She only mentioned her family had used it before to vanquish the vampires that had overrun Aleria.”

  Keiran rolled his eyes and groaned. “I suppose she should finally be given a cremation, anyway. It will save you the trouble of reinterring her.”

  “The thought had crossed my mind,” Randall said honestly.

  Keiran turned to stare at the other three, feeling extremely unwell with what they expected him to do. He eventually faced the coffin, huffed, and slowly started to walk toward it.

  As he went, he cast a few uneasy glances back at the others. When he reached the coffin, he stopped and slowly knelt down beside it. The smell of the graveyard soil that still coated the box was heavy in the air, but there didn’t seem to be any scent of decay from within. Keiran wondered if it was just a function of the casket having been buried for so many years. There was a chance, he thought, its contents would be nothing but bone.

  The knees of his pants were quickly soaked through as there was a large puddle of water surrounding the coffin. The wood of it had grown waterlogged over the years. It was plain, no paintings or carvings upon its surface evident beneath the mud.

  Keiran placed his hands on the front edge of the lid and bowed his head, preparing himself for what he was about to see. Slowly, he began to pull up on the lid, needing to use a good amount of force as the wood had swelled, wedging the lid on tightly. Just as he was beginning to have doubts about his ability to open it at all, the lid gave w
ay with a pop. It clattered to the floor on the opposite side of the coffin.

  He turned his eyes up and realized he was holding his breath. Before he could muster up the nerve to look, he forced himself to inhale, bracing for what would hit him. The smell emanating from the coffin was odd, but it wasn’t as horrific as he’d thought it would be. Wet wood, dirt, and a rotten, fruit-like scent came up to meet him.

  Keiran furrowed his brow and lowered his gaze into the coffin, confused at what he saw. He’d not been sure of what he would see, but what lay before him certainly wasn’t it.

  Ilana Aviatrov Sipesh was laid out, frozen water encasing her halfway up from the bottom of the coffin. While the snow had melted, the growing warmth hadn’t quite reached the depth where she’d been put to rest. Above the level of the ice, her hands were clasped around the hilt of the sword and pressed to her chest.

  Ilana’s face was also above the ice. Her flesh hadn’t decayed away as he’d expected. Instead, she still looked relatively intact, her skin having turned into a waxy, yellowed substance. Her eyes were closed, but the lids had sunk into her skull a good deal. Her tresses still clung to her head, falling back and disappearing into the ice. What color her hair had been while alive wasn’t obvious as the dirty water had stained it nearly black over the years. The white dress she’d been buried in had also been stained to a dirty amber color.

  He knelt there, staring down at her silently for several moments. Keiran eyes eventually traveled down to her thin hands and the sword in her grasp.

  The gold-colored hilt of it was somewhat longer than what he was accustomed to, the sheath covering the blade long and thin. Neither the moisture in the coffin, nor the fact it had been buried for decades had caused any obvious damage to the weapon. It wasn’t even tarnished, though he didn’t know if the metal it was made from did such a thing.

  After looking up to her face again, Keiran reached out and gently slid the sword downward, slipping the hilt from her seized hands. It moved with a little effort, the tip of it resting down by her knees and frozen into the ice.