Lover Mine

THIRTY-FIVE

Darius was due to meet his young protégé after the sun was well set, but before he headed over to the human mansion they’d spied upon through the trees, he materialized in the woods afore the Brotherhood’s cave.

With the Brothers scattered thither and yon, communication could be delayed and a system had been set up for the exchange of notations and announcements. All came here once a night to see what had been left for the others or to leave missives of their own.

After ensuring that there were no eyes upon him, he ducked into the dark enclave, went through the secret rock wall, and made his way through the series of gates toward the sanctum sanctorum. The “communication system” was nothing but an alcove set in the rock wall, into which correspondence could be placed, and because of its simplicity, it was far down the way.

He didn’t make it far enough to see if his brothers had anything to say to him, however.

Coming up to the final gate, he saw upon the stone floor that which at first glance appeared to be a pile of clothing folded up next to a rough sack.

As he unsheathed his black dagger, a dark head rose from the heap.

“Tohr?” Darius lowered his weapon.

“Aye.” The boy turned over on his ragged bed. “Good evening, sire.”

“Whatever are you doing herein?”

“I have slept.”

“’Tis obvious, indeed.” Darius went over and knelt down. “But why- for did you not return unto your home?”

After all he had been disowned, but Hharm rarely went unto his mated abode. Surely the young one could have stayed with his mahmen?

The boy pushed himself up to his feet and steadied himself on the wall. “Whatever time is it? Have I missed—”

Darius gripped Tohr’s arm. “Did you eat?”

“Am I late?”

Darius didn’t bother asking any more questions. The answers to what he wanted to know were in the manner in which the boy refused to lift his eyes: Indeed, he had been asked not to take shelter in his father’s house.

“Tohrment, how many nights have you passed herein?” On that cold floor.

“I can find another place to tarry. I shall not retire here again.”

Praise the Scribe Virgin, that would be true. “Wait here, please.”

Darius ducked through the gate and checked for correspondence. As he found communications for Murhder and Ahgony, he thought about leaving one for Hharm. On the lines of, How could you possibly turn out your blooded son such that he is forced to spend the day with naught but stone for a bed and his clothes for a cover?

You arsehole.

Darius returned to Tohrment and found that the boy had packed his things up in his satchel and had his weapons strapped on.

Darius bit back a curse. “We shall go first to the female’s mansion. I have something I must needs discuss with... that steward. Bring your things, son.”

Tohrment followed, more alert than most would be after however many days without food or proper rest.

They materialized in front of Sampsone’s manse and Darius nodded to the right, indicating that they should proceed around to the back. As they came to the rear of the house, he took them to the door they had exited from the evening before and rang the banging bell.

The butler opened the way and bowed low. “Sires, whatever may we do to serve you in your quest?”

Darius stepped inside. “I should like to speak anew to the second-floor steward.”

“But of course.” Another low bow. “Perhaps you would be good enough to follow me to the front parlor?”

“We’ll wait here.” Darius took a seat at the staff’s well-worn table.

The doggen paled. “Sire... this is—”

“Where I should like to speak with the steward Fritzgelder. I see no benefit to adding to the burden of your master and mistress by their encountering us unannounced in their house. We are not guests—we are here to be of service in their tragedy.”

The butler bowed so deeply it was a wonder that he didn’t fall on his brow. “Verily, you are right. I shall get Fritzgelder this very moment. Is there anything we can do to ease you?”

“Yes. We would greatly appreciate some victuals and ale.”

“Oh, sire, but of course!” The doggen bowed his way out of the room. “I should have so offered, forgive me.”

When they were alone, Tohrment said, “You don’t need to do that.”

“Do what?” Darius drawled, running his fingertips over the table’s pitted surface.

“Get food for me.”

Darius glanced over his shoulder. “My dear boy, it was a request calculated to put the butler at ease. Our presence in this room is a source of great discomfort for him as is the request to question anew his staff. The request for food shall be a relief for him. Now please sit, and when the victuals and libations arrive, you must consume them. I have had my fill prior.”

There was the scraping sound of a chair being dragged back and then a creak as Tohrment’s weight settled on the seat.

The steward arrived momentarily.

Which was awkward, as Darius didn’t really have anything to ask him. Where was the food—

“Sires,” the butler said with pride as he opened the door with a flourish.

Staff filed in with all manner of trays and tankards and provisions, and as the feast was laid out, Darius cocked a brow at Tohrment and then pointedly stared down at the various foodstuffs.

Tohrment, ever the polite male, helped himself.

Darius nodded at the butler. “This is a repast worthy of such a house. Verily your master should be most proud.”

After the butler and the others left, the steward waited patiently and so did Darius until Tohrment had taken all he could. And then Darius got to his feet.

“Verily, may I inquire of you a favor, Steward Fritzgelder?”

“But of course, sire.”

“Will you be so kind as to store my colleague’s bag for us during the eve? We shall return after we have made our surveillance.”

“Oh, yes, sires.” Fritzgelder bowed low. “I shall take the best of care of his things.”

“Thank you. Come, Tohrment, we are off.”

As they went outside, he could feel the ire of the boy and was not at all surprised when his arm was caught.

“I can take care of myself.”

Darius stared over his shoulder. “Of that there is no doubt. However, I do not need a partner who is weakened by an empty gut and—”

“But—”

“—if you think this family of great means would begrudge a meal to aid in the search of their daughter, you are vastly mistaken.”

Tohrment dropped his hand. “I shall find lodging. Food.”

“Yes, you will.” Darius nodded to the ring of trees around the neighboring estate. “Now may we proceed?”

When Tohrment nodded, the pair of them dematerialized into the forest and then stalked their way onto the property of the other mansion.

With each forward stride toward their destination, Darius felt upon him a sense of crushing dread which increased until he found it hard to breathe: Time was working against them.

Every night that passed and they didn’t find her was another step closer to her death.

And they had so very little to go on.