The Queen of Thieves: The Line of Kings Trilogy Book Three by Craig R. Saunders, Craig Saunders Page A

Lady,
fine and well. My wife can manage her admirably, while I confess sometimes I
find fatherhood...trying.'
                'As it should be,'
she said with a nod. The man was a bastard, a devil, a mage and a vampire, but
ever the proud father.
                And as deadly a
companion as one could ever wish, she thought. She just hoped he could keep his
thirst in check to see Rena and her babe to Naeth.
                You play some
deadly games, she thought to herself. But the winter would be long and dark
this year and she needed to risk much to win much.
                'Now,' she said to
Shawford, who still sat at the bloody table.
                'Now?'
                She nodded. 'The
Pickled Hare tavern,' she said. Then she was gone.
     
    *

 
    Chapter Eighteen
     
    Crale met his wife coming down
the stairs as he came from the cellars of the estate house, carrying the most
valuable artefact in the country in a simple hessian sack. Every time he saw
her he was taken with her beauty, her grace, and the sheer passion she took in
torturing her food. She was practically covered head to foot in blood. She left
bloody footprints as she descended the stairs. But oh so gracefully...
                'She thinks I'm
dumb,' said Ellisindre, 'But I'm not.'
                'Not for a minute do
I think such a thing, darling wife,' he said, skirting the issue of Selana
thinking his beloved wife dumb...which was undoubtedly the truth as far as
Selana went. 'Did you feed well?'
                'Yes. The man was a
delight. Tasted a little of Stum, truth be told, but pickings were sparse by
the canal this eve.'
                'Ellisindre, you
could have most any man you want...' In truth, even had she not been stunningly
beautiful, she could have made any man in the world dance to her tune with a
glamour. The glamour that the vampires used was a mere trick, but in a land
with little in the way of magic, it sufficed. A witch, maybe, could see through
it. Certainly someone as accomplished as Selana could. But it sufficed.
                'I wanted something a
little...dirty,' admitted Ellisindre.
                Crale nodded. His
wife was ever a slave to her roots. She was stunning, but never was born to
good breeding.
                Still, hadn't Crale
himself plucked her from the streets? He certainly wasn't immune to the charms
of the lower classes. Hells, he'd married a common harlot. Couldn't say he
wasn't a fair man.
                'I have to go...' he
said. He took her hand as she reached the bottom of the stairs. It was sticky
with drying blood.
                'I heard.'
                'Will you give our
dear daughter a kiss from me? I may be gone...a time.'
                'I don't trust her,
Shawford.'
                'Neither do I, but
she rules our kind and I learned many years ago never to go against her. Trust
or no, I must do as she bids.'
                Ellisindre pouted -
beautifully - but she did not complain further. She knew that a
request...order...from the Queen could not be denied. They had no masters, no
mistress, few peers, but the Queen was set above them all.
                'Then have a care, my
love,' she said.
                'And you,' he said.
They did not kiss. Crale shouldered his burden and closed the door behind him
on their crumbling estate house.
                The Crown of Kings on
his shoulder, he set out north, under the steady light of the moon, through the
freezing cold of a winter's night, with nothing but his fine bloody shirt on
his back.
     
    *
     

 
    Chapter Nineteen
     
    The road through the Fresh Woods
was little more than a dirt track, though a cart or carriage could travel in
rough leisure along it, should it have reason to travel to the newest town in
Sturma. The people of Haven had cut back the trees