The officer looked Magiere over from head to toe, stopping at her face. "I'm Lieutenant Omasta. You'll follow me to the inner courtyard and wait while I explain all this to my lord. He'll decide who stays and who goes."
Magiere nodded. One step at a time was always how she got her way.
The two guards stepped aside, and Omasta led the way, with Magiere following. Wynn and Chap brought up the rear, and the guards fell in behind them.
Crossing the bridge, Magiere couldn't see the water directly below over the stone ledges to both sides. All she saw was Omasta's broad back as the man led her across the drawbridge and through the open gates. Entering the long tunnel was like being swallowed down the keep's gullet, and finally they came out in the inner courtyard.
Before leaving Byrd's, Chap had given Magiere instructions through Wynn on protocol. She was to keep her falchion sheathed at all times, and not hesitate to relinquish it if ordered to do so. He'd pawed out "follow orders" and "no threats." Magiere ground her teeth, but she intended to follow Chap's counsel.
Omasta spoke quietly with two more armed guards in the courtyard before turning to Magiere. "Wait until I return."
He crossed the courtyard to the far wall and entered through the heavy doors.
Magiere waited until he was gone, then looked about at the high walls, like four tall stone buildings between four towers, enclosing the open courtyard. It wouldn't hurt to wander here within sight and look the place over.
Before she finished three steps, the guards repositioned. They boxed in Wynn, Chap, and herself, standing to the courtyard's four sides. They stayed back far enough that Magiere was beyond a spear's reach, but it was clear that no one was getting near the inner walls.
Getting inside Darmouth's stronghold was becoming more and more futile.
Wynn shivered again, and Magiere hoped Leesil still slept in their warm bed. He was drunk for the first time since they'd left Bela, breaking his promise, but perhaps he'd have some rest without dreams to torment him. Wynn crouched next to Chap, and the dog huddled against her.
It wasn't long before Omasta returned and waved Magiere forward toward the open keep doors. She assumed that meant all of them, and pulled Wynn to her feet. The lieutenant stepped aside at their approach.
Warmth struck Magiere's face as they entered the wide entryway. Perhaps it wasn't warm so much as far less cold than outside. To either side were archways into large halls. The right one looked to be a feasting hall, and she heard a crackling fire somewhere at its far end. Omasta led them to the hall on the left.
Weapons and shields lined its walls between braziers, and one long thick table and ten sturdy chairs filled its middle. Two tapestries covered the far end wall. One displayed an ornate coat of arms-three mountain peaks with green hills below and a golden crown like a sun in the sky above them. The other was of a mounted horseman against a black background.
Two wolfhounds paced forward along the tables right side, sniffing the air. One growled at Chap's presence. He didn't growl back but positioned himself in front of Wynn.
Magiere's attention settled on the room's three occupants.
The first was the man who'd come to Byrd's last night. Faris sat in the right-hand chair farthest away, studying her in return. Behind him stood a slender, dark-haired woman so similar in features she could be his sister or close kin.
Magiere wondered why a pair of Mondyalitko served Darmouth. These mountain wanderers didn't strike her as people who'd willingly follow a warlord.
The hall's third occupant stepped forward along the table, coming up behind the wolfhounds with his arms crossed. The odor of stale sweat filled Magiere's nostrils. He wasn't as tall as Omasta, but he had presence. It brought all attention to him as he moved.
Darmouth had been but a shadow to Magiere, a faceless specter in Leesil's past, until this moment. She remained calmly indifferent as she studied the man who'd maimed Leesil's mind and spirit… and might have murdered his parents as the price for Leesil's freedom.
Magiere let her dhampir nature rise up, until her senses opened wide, and tried to feel him out. His stench thickened sharply in her head. She felt a deep winter creep toward her with each step he took. The leather breastplate under his crossed arms was well oiled, its steel reinforcements polished to a gleam. His hair was cropped short and his face carefully shaven-not as Leesil had described him once. Lines of encroaching age marred his wide face, but his forearms were thick and powerful.
"You're the hunter?" he said, voice low and hollow.
Magiere realized this man could order her death, Chap's and Wynn's too, and forget them in the next breath. She'd never be able to lure him into talk of anything but the business at hand.
"Yes," she answered.
"You believe in these creatures? These vampires?"
"As do you… or you wouldn't have sent for me."
He stopped beyond arm's reach. "I've heard of charlatans' shows for peasants. How would you kill such a creature, if it's already dead? Magic powders? Invisible spells perhaps?"
"Take its head off," she answered bluntly. "And burn the body."
Darmouth paused, and Magiere wondered if her answer had been too simple for him. Or perhaps its directness had quelled his doubts. He looked at Chap and Wynn.
"And these two?"
"He tracks. She finds people and places for him to investigate. If you have clothing from the victim, it would help, as well as anything known about this undead."
Darmouth appeared put off by her tone and roughly shoved one wolfhound back out of his way. "It's an unnatural man drinking blood from the throats of noblewomen. Find him and be quick about it!"
Magiere didn't flinch. "So it's male?"
Darmouth's face grew darker. Magiere realized he didn't care about the details. Maybe he didn't even believe it was more than a madman. He simply wanted to hire her services and be done with it.
Omasta stepped in from the archway. "It happened in the alley behind the Bronze Bell Inn. Perhaps your dog might pick up a scent still there? Several of Baron Milea's guards got a clear look as it assaulted Lady Progae. They might tell you more."
Magiere understood. Omasta grew concerned by his lord's mood and wanted this audience finished. He'd known her name when he'd come to the gatehouse, so he was more than just some office, perhaps someone in Darmouth's confidence. He was about in his midtwenties, so too young to have been in service while Leesil's parents were here. But he might know other things, such as why anyone fleeing the city would run into the keep instead of away from it.
Then there was Lady Progae, the one Paris had mentioned not long before Leesil lost all hold upon himself.
Magiere spoke directly to Darmouth. "We should speak with Lady Progae, as she is the best witness."
"No," Darmouth snapped. "Omasta will handle any more arrangements. Start hunting, if you expect to be paid. I'll double the coin if you finish this tonight and bring me the head of this creature."
Magiere's revulsion increased. "How did you know I was in the city?"
"It's my city," he answered. "You're dismissed."
Faris rose, stepping around the table along with his slender companion. They came up behind Darmouth, one on each side.
Investigating the keep seemed folly in hindsight, but Magiere saw Wynn studying the walls, the shields, weapons, and tapestries, and the people present. Chap's eyes wandered as well, though he stayed close to the sage, standing between her and Darmouth's company.
Before Magiere could speak, Omasta took her arm, urging her toward the archway. She pulled free from his grip but followed, herding Wynn and Chap out in front of her. Chap trotted ahead into the entryway's expanse, looking about.