BloodLust (Rise of the Iliri Book 1) Read online

  She tilted her head slightly and offered him a shy smile. "So, tell me, is there anything to do here while I'm stranded?"

  "Well... The Twin Traveler is a nice tavern I hear, good food and a quiet ambiance. If you're looking for something more local, the Broken Soldier is the pub the military prefer. It tends to be loud and rowdy, but the number of officers there makes it a safe place for a lady like yourself. Besides those, no, there's not much to do here at the stables other than watch mounted drills."

  "I see. Well, is it ok if I wander around a bit? I don't want to get in anyone's way."

  "No ma'am, that isn't a problem at all. Just stay out of the barns – the staff are real picky about the horses, you understand – and you won't have any problems."

  She thanked him wholeheartedly and made her way in the direction he indicated. It was the longer route around the stables but had less turns to navigate. Sal took in the sights of military stabling with a new eye, pretending to see it for the first time. She made sure to step carefully over manure and to pause to check her bearings before entering the lobby of a building with the simple sign that said only "Inn."

  A matronly woman behind the counter smiled at her when she entered. "Looking for a room, miss?"

  "Yes'm," she said. "I'll need today and tomorrow at least, and it's possible I'll be here tomorrow night as well, depending on if my carriage to Merriton is an overnight or early morning trip."

  "Not a problem. I'll just reserve the room for both nights then. And how will you be paying for that?"

  "Krits," Sal replied. "Using credit on a trip like this is just too bothersome for both of us."

  "Thank you, miss," the woman said. Handing over forms to sign, she politely took Sal's money before handing her a key and directing her to the second floor.

  When Sal entered her room, she was impressed. As an iliri, she'd always been offered the lower class options, but in her guise of a human, she stood in a luxurious suite. The sleeping area was separate from the lounge, the private bathing chamber tucked out of the way. She'd never been in rooms this nice before, let alone able to claim them as her own.

  Turning her attention to preparing her wardrobe, Sal removed the wrinkles and dust from her new attire, then hung it carefully while she thought over the reactions of each person she'd met. Siana Praxis was a vague enough name that it caused no eyes to be raised, and her story seemed to be accepted by everyone she'd come across. She'd only lost a few hours setting up her alibi. Time well spent, since Siana seemed to be able to get information much easier than Sal could in her own body. It was almost like people sought out Siana, reminding her how much different life would be if she'd been human.

  But she didn't have time to think about that. With the day ahead of her, Sal decided to put her new form into action. She needed information about her upcoming test, after all. The prejudiced old man from the stables would be her first target.

  First, she checked herself in the mirror. Satisfied that she was still a beautiful human, she walked out of her room, down the back stairs, and made her way to the barns.

  Walking casually, soaking up the sights of magnificent war horses being handled around her, she did her best to act like a naive human. She even asked to pet one of the horses, but the handler politely refused, explaining that the animal might bite. He sent her into the barn, giving her directions to more behaved mounts that she might be able to touch. Once there, contrary to what the carriage master had said, the staff offered a tour of the horses. She barely blinked at her own mare when she passed, but fawned over a golden palomino a few stalls down. The stablehands were more than happy to tell her anything she asked, even laying out the schedules of the horses in their answers to her "innocent" questions. Through her tour, she learned that the next trial would have mounted soldiers in it and the "enemy" forces would be using them. The horses would be rouncies, not true war horses, since those were too aggressive for a casual training exercise.

  Excusing herself from the overly friendly help of four young men, Sal made her way to one of the training arenas, where she leaned on the rail for half an hour before she saw her target walk past. The grumpy stablehand was probably in his mid-forties, his skin leathered, and a constant scowl distorted his face. Sal called out to him, seeking assistance, and his frown barely lifted.

  "I got stuff ta be doing, girl, what is it you want?"

  "I heard you might be the man to help me," she replied dripping saccharine.

  "Yeah? And why would you think that?"

  "Because some iliri bitch thinks she can get my baby brother kicked out of the trials for the Black Blades?" She cocked her head and looked deep into his eyes, checking to see if she'd over stepped her bounds.

  "Mm, and what do I have to do with that?" he asked, interest showing in his voice.

  "We Passels have always kept to our own kind," she explained, "and my brother doesn't deserve to lose his place to some bleached scrubber. I just need to know if you've heard anything that might give him a bit of help in planning his mission." Another kind smile was forced to her lips. "He said his officer gave them permission to learn anything they could, any way they could. Since that scrubber bitch made a big enough fuss about you talking to her the other day, I thought maybe..."

  "Yeh, well, your brother's the kid, right?"

  "Yeah, Doron. He's worked hard to get where he is, not like those scrubbers that just have it handed to them."

  "I dunno, miss."

  "Sir, I don't want you to get in trouble or anything, I just hoped that maybe you'd heard something or could point him somewhere. You know, the kinda thing you're allowed to do."

  "Ok. Lemme take you to lunch at the Twins and I'll see what I can tell ya." His weathered face turned smug, sure that she'd refuse.

  Sal-as-Siana clasped her hands together, "Ok then, it's a date! But..." She put on a thoughtful expression, hoping she was convincing. "I don't even know your name. What should I call you?"

  "Petur Knash, ma'am. I'll meet you in an hour."

  Sal wandered the stables awhile before her anxiety got the better of her and she made her way to the Twin Traveler Tavern. Entering the dimly lit building, she asked for a table on the far side and seated herself in the front chair. She'd let Petur have his back to the wall to make him feel more confident. Sal had no worries about being caught, not in this form.

  She ordered a cocktail and sipped at it while waiting impatiently. It took an eternity before the grumpy man entered and scanned the room for her. Turning at the sound of the door, Sal smiled brightly and lifted her hand to him.

  "Ms. Passel," he greeted as she gestured to a seat.

  "Find anything, Mr. Knash?"

  "Well, yes, I have some information that might help you out, but it could cost me my job." He leaned in for dramatic effect.

  Sal tried hard not to laugh in his face over the melodramatic performance. "Well, I can't offer you much, but I do have a little I can part with." She sighed. "I really hope it'll be enough – that and knowing you kept some scrubber from making a fool of yet another human." She slid a ten krit note at him, enough to pay for a week in the inn, and raised her eyebrow.

  "Thanks, miss." He quickly pocketed the money. "Look, here's how it is. Them Blades, they have a pretty nice thing worked out. The recruits are going to lead them to rescue their captured Lieutenant. Guarding him will be the light cav cadets. They'll have sniper students holed up somewhere, ready to take out anyone that tries to barge in and use the fighting skill of the Blades to overcome the odds. Thing is, there's some twist in the test, there always is, but I don't know much about that. Does that help Doron any?"

  "Sir, you have no idea how much help that is!" She leaned over and wrapped her arms around him, kissing his cheek fondly. "Doron can go snooping around the cavalry and snipers now, and know that's covered."

  She sat through the meal with him, smiling and agreeing about the atrocities the iliri had brought to the human race. By the end of the meal, his hate made her fee
l nauseous and she made her excuses to leave, saying that she needed to get the information to her brother as soon as possible. She turned her feet in the direction of the Blade's barracks, making sure Petur saw.

  A few buildings over, she found a bench and sat. Pulling off her boot to remove an imaginary stone let her check for anyone following her. Life in the stables seemed to continue on as normal, though.

  Thinking through her plan, Sal realized she needed to know more about how the past combat trials had gone. It seemed LT liked impressing the other soldiers and showing off the abilities of his Blades. Hopefully, someone heard stories of previous attempts or participated in them.

  For the rest of the day, she tried to casually stumble on someone who might have more information, or even a Black Blade. She stopped to watch the light cavalry practice and memorized their maneuvers, guessing how the drills might pertain to the training mission only two days away. Some, like the mounted ring used for defense, were obvious. Others made little sense to her. She tried to catch a soldier and ask, but no opportunities arose.

  When the sun set, the soldiers were released from their duties. Many began to make their way to the pub. Sal decided to change into something more provocative and try her luck there.

  Back at the inn, she chose a copper and green dress, the skirt short in front to show off her legs, the bustle in back falling to just below her knees. Stockings were pulled up to her thighs and secured with garters, delicate capped sleeves left her shoulders bare. She pulled on a pair of medium brown boots, the heel long and delicate, and added the finishing touches to her hair. Lifting it off her neck, Sal allowed a few strands to fall across her bare collar bones, where the green jewel in her necklace lay. For the finishing touch, she dabbed perfume against her throat, chest, and wrists: a scent that smelled metallic and would remind her that she was supposed to be a human.

  Dressed, she made her way down to the lobby and stopped at the counter to get directions, making sure to stumble over the name. The matron smiled and complimented her clothing, then drew a simple map. Following it, Sal came at the pub from the opposite side of the outpost. The music hadn't reached the levels of their late night performances, and Doron Passel sat in a quiet corner near the door, leafing through a stack of paperwork. Feeling devious, she walked over and cleared her throat politely. When the boring, brown boy looked up, he didn't even bother to cover what he was reading. She leaned in slightly, checking out the spines of the books stacked beside him and the heading of the page he viewed. It was all on standard military tactics.

  "Sir, can you point me to the bar? I'm not sure which door to take, and I'm dying for a drink!" she flirted.

  Passel refused to rise to the bait. "Center door, straight down the hall, although there's a smaller bar in almost every room." He turned his nose back to his papers, lines of stress creasing his forehead.

  She thanked him, made her way to the bar indicated, and ordered. "Something local," she said, and now held in her hand a fruit ale. Finding a table, she tasted the drink, trying to decide if she liked it or not while watching the crowd. A few sips in, she saw the first man in black. Shift waltzed in with a woman on each arm, making a production of himself. Unfortunately, the women would make approaching him difficult.

  When the pub began to fill, she decided to work the room. She didn't have much experience in flirting, since men tended to avoid intimate relationships with her kind – except for those willing to dredge the bottom of the barrel so they wouldn't go home alone. Trying to mimic the civilian women around her, Sal wandered, placing herself carefully, eying the crowd for potential soldiers with information she could talk them out of. She kept a drink in her hand, hoping it would help her fit in, but soon realized that her nervous sips were making her inebriated.

  A few men approached her. None of them knew anything she could use, but their antics were amusing. They thought bragging and obvious falsehoods should be impressive. She nearly laughed in the face of one Private who tried to convince her he was a Captain, unaware she could read the insignia on his shoulders. Needless to say, it wasn't hard to slip away.

  Unfortunately, she couldn't find any Black Blades needing companionship. The crush of bodies and the smell of humans made her senses useless. The music smothered the sounds of nearby conversations, and her fixed, human ears meant she had to turn her head to catch snippets of the talk around her. The pub's lighting cast irregular shadows, but Sal tried to peer into each one, always expecting to see Cyno hiding there. The alcohol blurring her vision didn't help.

  Maybe a cavalry officer would know something, she thought, seeing quite a few of those sitting alone. At this hour, the Black Blades should be off duty, but it seemed she'd need quite a bit of luck to simply stumble into one. She needed to think, and her brain felt muddled.

  Sighing, she turned to find a place to sit and caught her heel on a rough board in the floor. Her new body failed her. The floor began to rush up quickly. Unable to untangle her long limbs, she let the drink go and threw her hands out to catch herself.

  Sal landed on her knees, one arm across a man's lap at the table beside her, and she cursed her awkwardness. Instinctually, her anger flared, and she gnashed her teeth together, wishing for something to take her frustrations out on.

  "Watch that board. It's a doozy," a gentle voice said.

  Looking up into his face, Sal saw the pale green eyes of the Lieutenant looking back at her. Her stomach dropped into her toes as panic consumed her. Seated across from him, a captain had risen half way from his chair, his arm still outstretched in his desire to help.

  Chapter 13

  "Oh, how embarrassing!" Sal tried to extract herself from her commanding officer's lap.

  "Here, let me help," LT said, putting words into action.

  She made to stand, but her head began to spin when she reached her feet. LT moved to assist, his hands reaching for her skin. She managed to lock down her mind as tight as she could just as he grabbed her, one hand on her waist, the other on her bare upper arm.

  "New here?" His smile was flirtatious.

  "Yeah." She ducked her head. It would be nice to blame the alcohol, but being so close reinforced his good looks. He smelled like leather, fresh tilled soil after the rain, and a hint of the same pungent odor she recognized as iliri. With his face only inches away, her heart beat faster. She blamed the fear of discovery, refusing to admit it might be anything more. "I'll just return to my table and try to save some of my pride now. That wasn't quite the way I hoped to meet someone."

  "Please, feel free to pull up a chair," LT offered, and the captain across from him nodded emphatically. "It might be safer, and I'd be honored if you'd let me replace the drink you lost."

  "Ugh, my drink!"

  Sal breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it'd hit nothing more deadly than the floor. The captain raised his hand and called over a waitress, ordering a round for each of them. The men included her in their conversation easily, so Sal tried to relax. She asked what they did, stumbling over their ranks, struggling to feign a lack of knowledge about military discipline. They were happy to fill her in, although LT only called himself a Lieutenant of a small outfit and didn't offer to clarify. With her smiles turned to the one man that had the knowledge of her trials – knowledge Sal desperately wanted – the Captain took the hint and excused himself.

  Alone, LT reached out for her hand. "So, I didn't catch your name. I'm Blaec." His fingers lightly grazed her knuckles.

  "Siana," Sal replied without hesitation. "I'm just laying over for a few days until my carriage comes in. Over in the last fort thing, they told me this was the most comfortable place to get a room. Less crowded, and safer, and oh my, I think I'm rambling!"

  "You're fine, Siana," Blaec said, savoring her name. She smiled when he said it.

  "I'm also not nearly drunk enough to explain my poor manners." She giggled, feeling strangely shy. "I guess I should be thankful I managed to fall in the lap of a nice looking man. A very ple
asant way to break my fall, I must say."

  "Well, I'm glad you liked it."

  Glancing up, she found his eyes looking gently into hers. She fought the urge to look away.

  "You remind me of someone," he said, taking a long, deep breath, "and I can't quite place it. But I'm rather glad you managed to trip on that board. I was trying to convince that captain that my men wouldn't be any help to him, and he just wasn't taking no for an answer. It seems you have very good timing."

  "I dunno," Sal replied. "I'd much rather make a more impressive entrance."

  "And throwing yourself at me isn't impressive?"

  The conversation continued on like that. Sal flirted with him for the next hour, slowly bringing the topic around to his position. When he refused to take the bait, she pushed the issue.

  "So, what does a Lieutenant do anyway?"

  "Ah, I just give other people orders."

  "And they listen?"

  "Well, mine do, but I have some really good men under me." He tried to let the subject die, but her look of excited curiosity convinced him to continue. "My guys are pretty self-sufficient and more like friends than underlings or anything like that. We do a lot of work out in the field with only the eight, er, well seven of us, now."

  "Oh, did someone quit?"

  "No, not exactly. My second in command died in combat almost a year ago. He served with us a long time."

  "Oh, I'm... I'm so sorry, Blaec, I didn't mean to bring up wounds. I'm sure he was a good man." She reached out for his hand, hearing the pain in his voice.

  Sal hadn't thought about why they needed a new soldier in the Blades, and knowing made her feel guilty for trying to use the Lieutenant this way. She found herself wanting to comfort him.

  "I don't know what to say. Sheesh, I really stuck my foot in that. I'm sorry. I just, I don't know much about the military, and the war hasn't really seemed close to us in Merriton."