“A death knight!” he whispered in awe.
The Lord rubbed his aching wrist, numb with the cold of those who dwell in realms far removed from the warmth of living flesh. More frightened than he dared admit, Ariakas bent down to retrieve his sword, muttering a charm to ward off the aftereffects of such a deadly touch. Rising, he cast a bitter glance at Kitiara, who was regarding him with a crooked smile.
“This-this creature serves you?” he asked hoarsely.
Kitiara shrugged. “Let us say, we agree to serve each other.”
Ariakas regarded her in grudging admiration. Casting a sidelong glance at the death knight, he sheathed his sword.
“Does he always frequent your bedroom?” He sneered. His wrist ached abominably.
“He comes and goes as he chooses,” Kitiara replied. She gathered the folds of the gown casually around her body, reacting apparently more from the chill in the early spring air than out of a desire for modesty. Shivering, she ran her hand through her curly hair and shrugged. “It’s his castle, after all.”
Ariakas paused, a faraway look in his eyes, his mind running back over ancient legends. “Lord Soth!” he said suddenly, turning to the figure. “Knight of the Black Rose.”
The Knight bowed in acknowledgment.
“I had forgotten the ancient story of Dargaard Keep,” Ariakas murmured, regarding Kitiara thoughtfully. “You have more nerve than even I gave you credit for, lady-taking up residence in this accursed dwelling! According to legend. Lord Soth commands a troop of skeletal warriors-”
“An effective force in a battle,” Kitiara replied, yawning. Walking over to a small table near a fireplace, she picked up a cut-glass carafe. “Their touch alone”-she regarded Ariakas with smile-“well, you know what their touch is like to those who lack the magic skills to defend against it. Some wine?”
“Very well,” Ariakas replied, his eyes still on the transparent face of Lord Soth. “What about the dark elves, the banshee women who reputedly follow him?”
“They’re here… somewhere.” Kit shivered again, then lifted her wineglass. “You’ll probably hear them before long. Lord Soth doesn’t sleep, of course. The ladies help him pass the long hours in the night.” For an instant, Kitiara paled, holding the wineglass to her lips. Then she set it down untouched, her hand shaking slightly. “It is not pleasant,” she said briefly. Glancing around, she asked, “What have you done with Garibanus?”
Tossing off the glass of wine, Ariakas gestured negligently. “I left him … at the bottom of the stairs.”
“Dead?” Kitiara questioned, pouring the Highlord another glass.
Ariakas scowled. “Perhaps. He got in my way. Does it matter?”
“I found him . . . entertaining,” Kitiara said. “He filled Bakaris’s place in more than one respect.”
“Bakaris, yes.” Lord Ariakas drank another glass. “So your commander managed to get himself captured as your armies went down to defeat!”
“He was an imbecile,” Kitiara said coldly. “He tried riding dragonback, even though he is still crippled.”
“I heard. What happened to his arm?”
“The elf woman shot him with an arrow at the High Clerist’s Tower. It was his own fault, and he now has paid for it. I had removed him from command, making him my bodyguard. But he insisted on trying to redeem himself.”
“You don’t appear to be mourning his loss,” Ariakas said, eyeing Kitiara. The dressing gown, tied together only by two ribbons at the neck, did little to cover her lithe body.
Kit smiled. “No, Garibanus is… quite a good replacement. I hope you haven’t killed him. It will be a bother getting someone else to go to Kalaman tomorrow.”
“What are you doing at Kalaman-preparing to surrender to the elf woman and the knights?” Lord Ariakas asked bitterly, his anger returning with the wine.
“No,” Kitiara said. Sitting down in a chair opposite Ariakas, she regarded him coolly. “I’m preparing to accept their surrender.”
“Ha!” Ariakas snorted. “They’re not insane. They know they’re winning. And they’re right!” His face flushed. Picking up the carafe, he emptied it into his glass. “You owe your death knight your life, Kitiara. Tonight at least. But he won’t be around you forever.”
“My plans are succeeding much better than I had hoped,” Kitiara replied smoothly, not in the least disconcerted by Ariakas’s flickering eyes. “If I fooled you, my lord, I have no doubt that I have fooled the enemy.”
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