Page 164 of Dragon Slayer

Her hand tightened another fraction, silencing Val before he could speak. She smiled, and it was wide, and it showed her fangs, and it wasn’t only sincere, but wicked. “I know who made you. I know his strengths – and his weaknesses. And I am far, far older than you, little boy. I could snap you in half.”

“Then it seems we’re at an impasse.”

“So it would seem.”

The moment stretched out, drawn tight as a bowstring wound one too many times. Ready to snap.

Slowly, Val reached up and removed his mother’s hand from his shoulder. He stepped in front of her, and of Fen, putting himself between his family, and the man who owned him.

“If I come with you now, will you leave her alone?” he asked, evenly. He’d learned to control his voice, to stuff all of his emotions down deep to a place where they couldn’t cut him so. “She has nothing you want. She doesn’t matter to you.”

“Val,” Eira said, soft, but deeply pained.

His stomach clenched, and his pulse fluttered, and his hands curled into fists. But he did not turn back to her. He couldn’t – not if he meant to keep her alive.

“Please, your grace,” he said, tipping his head back a fraction, showing his throat – his obedience. “Please.”

Fenrir whimpered.

Mehmet smiled. “Well. Since you asked so nicely.” He held out his hand.

Val slid his own into it, and went with him, the eyes of his people like hot brands pressed to his back.

This was the way it had to be.

~*~

Vlad and his entourage occupied a series of rooms much finer than any he’d enjoyed during his stay here as a hostage. Sumptuous furnishings, gilt-edged mirrors and thick rugs, coal braziers to keep out the chill of winter. Beds heaped with quilts and furs, and food brought on trays by timid slaves. He’d been offered his choice of female or male companionship, shaking young things with downcast eyes. He’d refused.

“We can’t stay,” he said to Cicero. He sat slumped over his room’s desk, idly paging through a Latin text, an invisible noose tightening slowly, inexorably around his neck as the minutes ticked past. He didn’t believe in premonitions as a general rule, but something was coming. He could feel it.

“I didn’t figure we would,” his wolf responded calmly.

Vlad twisted around in his chair and lifted his brows in question.

Cicero shrugged. He sat at the foot of the bed, sharpening his falx with a whetstone. The weapon gleamed as if new, though its shape suggested a primitive sort of wickedness. One of those little reminders of just how very old Cicero was.

Like the moments when the sun had caught Father’s profile just so, when his hair was swept back from his face, and Vlad had seen the Palatine Hill around him, the modest wooden villages and stone walls that had been Rome at its birth; the Tiber, gleaming like a serpent, and a basket of babies washed up amid the reeds.

“You and the sultan are enemies, I’d say. This was never a long-term plan.”

“No,” Vlad agreed, propping an elbow on the back of the chair. “I supposed I’ll have to flee again. I can be the Prince Who Ran Away. Retreating can be my legacy.”

“Vlad,” Cicero chided gently. “You’re young yet. That won’t be your legacy.”

He snorted.

Rapid footfalls in the hallway preceded the door swinging open. Eira came in red-faced and furious, dashing at the tears on her cheeks with quick movements. Fenrir followed, outwardly somber.

“Mother,” Vlad started, and then caught a sharp whiff of Val’s scent as she paced across the floor, skirt swirling around her calves.

He stood. “Mother. You went to see him? We discussed this.”

She rounded on him, eyes flashing. “He’s my son, Vlad. He’s just as much my son as you are, and he’s–” She cut off with a choked sound and resumed pacing, wiping at her face again. “We can’t leave him here. Wecan’t.”

Vlad wouldn’t allow himself to think of his brother. Of the things that he did, the way that he lived, in order to stay alive. He could not, or he’d take up his sword and go charging out of this room, ready to face Mehmet one final time.

He swallowed down every expression of sympathy, and kept his voice calm. Reasonable. “And what did Val say when you spoke to him?”

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