Forest Kingdom Trilogy 2 - Blood and Honor

men's blood, but there was nothing to suggest that he had taken any hurt at all. Lewis didn't even bother looking at the Monk. He glanced about him, taking in the extent of the carnage, and swore disbelievingly.
    Dominic must have really wanted us dead, Lewis thought slowly.
    'All right,' he said tightly to Ironheart, 'report. What's been happening while I was with Dominic?'
    'Your brother's men were waiting for us,' said Ironheart. 'This was a carefully planned ambush, and we walked right into it.' The voice from inside the helm was quiet and distinct, but very slightly slurred, as though the knight had some carefully controlled speech impediment. 'The guards you set to watch this corridor are dead. They were attacked the moment the antechamber door closed behind you. It seems likely that your brother has arranged further attacks on your men in your absence. I recommend we return to your quarters immediately, and see what can be done to protect your position.'
    'I agree,' said the Monk. 'For the moment my magic protects us from sorcerous attacks, but the rest of your people are unprotected.'
    'I should have known!' Lewis hacked spitefully at the nearest corpse with his sword. 'I'll bet this was Elizabeth's idea originally, the rotten little bitch. No wonder she hardly said a word while I was there! She just sat there, smirking at me, knowing that all the time I was talking to Dominic about co-operation and partnerships, my men were being butchered at his command! I'll have their heart's blood for this . . .
    Monk, I want a full defensive screen over the three of us, and over as many of my people as you can cover,'
    'That will leave me unable to mount any sorcerous offensives,' said the Monk.
    'I know!' snapped Lewis. 'There's no point in attacking Dominic on his own ground; he's had all the time he needed to set up his own defences. All we can do now is get the hell out of here, and salvage what we can. Damn them! I'll have Dominic's head for this. And Elizabeth's. I'll stick their heads on the railings outside the main gates and the ravens can eat their eyes! If my magic wasn't just earth magic . . .'
    His voice dried up as he came again to his old, familiar frustration. Out on the moors, or in the countryside, his Blood magic made him stronger than either of his brothers, but as long as they remained inside the Castle, Lewis's magic was practically useless. And Viktor and Dominic had always been very careful never to be caught outside the Castle at the same time as Lewis . . . He controlled his anger with difficulty, and thought hard. There had to be something he could do to avenge this outrage . . . but he couldn't think of anything.
    He stalked off down the corridor, kicking furiously at the
    corpses as he went. Ironheart and the Monk followed, a short
    way behind. Lewis's fury began to settle into a cold, calculating anger. When all was said and done, he had more gold and jewels than Dominic and Viktor put together. He'd always been the
    thrifty one in the family. Dominic might have cost him some
    men with this night's treachery, but there were always mercenaries ready to be hired. If he could get word to them in time.
    Lewis scowled determinedly. The game wasn't over yet. The
    real game was only just beginning. "
    Prince Viktor sat listlessly on the edge of his bed, his head bowed forward and his eyes half closed. The Lady Heather unbuttoned his shirt with gentle efficiency, and pulled it back off his arms. His torso was gaunt to the point of emaciation, and the skin was deathly pale. Heather forced herself not to pay it any attention. Viktor knew how ill he looked, but he couldn't bear seeing the knowledge of it in her eyes. She made herself concentrate on the simple business of getting Viktor out of his clothes and into his nightshirt.
    At first he'd refused to wear one, claiming it was an old man's garment, but as he became weaker he quickly found the nights too cold without one. Heather did her best to keep up a stream of bright chatter as she undressed him, but she knew he wasn't fooled. He was so feeble now he could hardly help her at all, and it was that simple helplessness that infuriated him the most.
    Finally Heather had him ready for bed, and she turned away to the nearby medicine table. Vials and bottles of all shapes and sizes clustered together in an untidy mess, the various liquids and powders and roots making a dull rainbow of colours. Viktor had tried them all, at one time or another. Heather