A Burning Sea by Theodore Brun (snow like ashes series TXT) 📗

Instead Erlan went to the emperor. Leo was lying on his side, one arm flung out above him, facing the wall. Motionless. Around his head, too, was a puddle of blood, not so large as the other. Erlan knelt down beside him, his knees soaking instantly in the dark liquid.

If the emperor was dead, he dreaded to think what the future held, for the city or for him and his friends. He rolled Leo onto his back. His face was half-covered with blood, his eyes closed. Around his neck the cruel garrotte was still there. Erlan pulled it off him and tossed it away.

As he did so, he saw he had blood on his fingers.

Unless you drink the blood of the king of kings. . .

Unless. . .

Cautiously, he reached behind the nape of the emperor’s neck. The blood there was still warm to the touch. He brought up his hand to his face and for a second stared at his fingers.

With a sudden movement he shoved them into his mouth and sucked on them, tasting metal on his tongue. He swallowed down the blood, half-gagging, and waited. Waited. . . for what? For something. . .

But nothing happened. Nothing!

His heart cracked with disappointment.

Kill him, a voice snarled in his head. Kill the whoreson now.

‘No,’ he answered aloud.

A soft moan sounded under him, jolting him from his dark thoughts. He slipped an arm round Leo’s shoulders and levered him up until the emperor’s head lay in his lap. Leo moaned again.

‘Where. . .’ he murmured. ‘What. . .’

‘Lie still,’ Erlan said in a numb whisper. ‘You’re safe.’ And then he called for help and went on calling, while his eyes burned with bitter tears.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Erlan leaned forward on the couch to scratch at Aska’s ears and winced. His entire back was blue from his fall. He felt like an old man – and a failure. At least the dog seemed to feel some sympathy for him, he reflected. Aska lifted his muzzle and let Erlan tug at the scraggy coat covering his chest.

‘He’ll be fat as Einar if you keep feeding him so much,’ he called out to Grusha in the next room. The hound buried his nose in Erlan’s lap for another scratch. ‘Won’t you, you old flea-bag?’

‘He’s your dog,’ answered Grusha, appearing at the door with a heap of folded robes in her arms. ‘Take him for a walk in the gardens if you’re so bothered.’

‘He needs a forest not a bunch of herb beds and pruned bushes. He needs the scent of a hind.’

‘Well, he’s not like to get that for a while. Oh, I nearly forgot,’ said Gerutha, laying down her pile and rummaging around in the pouch at her belt. ‘I have something for you.’ Eventually she produced a small, ivory-handled knife. ‘I found it in a stall on the Mese near Constantine’s Forum. I thought you’d like it. Here.’

He took it from her. The blade was hardly three inches long. ‘What do you expect me to do with that? Peel fruit?’

‘I don’t know,’ she laughed. ‘You’re always saying a man can never have too many knives. So there’s one more. You could just say thank you.’

‘All right then. Thank you,’ he said, and slid the little blade inside his boot.

‘Is there any word on the emperor?’ asked Lilla, who was sitting before her mirror arranging the last details of her hair.

‘He’s stable at least. But still on his back.’ Erlan rose and went to lean against the window frame, gazing east across the straits to the grey hills beyond.

‘Do you think this changes things?’

‘I don’t know. He seemed adamant before.’

‘Hmm. Are they any closer to catching the assassin?’

Erlan shook his head. They weren’t likely to be either. Not unless he told them what he knew. But he had decided to keep the identity of Leo’s would-be killer to himself. Lucia was right. She had given him a chance and he had repaid her service to him in bad coin. With this, though, the debt was settled. He wouldn’t let her go a second time.

‘If Leo is still refusing to reach out to the Bulgars, we have to think of some other way to shorten the siege.’ She turned from her mirror. ‘This makes it even more important to win over Nikolaos.’

‘Nikolaos, Nikolaos,’ he scowled. ‘He’s all you talk about. You’re—’ He cut himself short.

‘What? Obsessed?’ She gave an angry snort. ‘We’re going to need every advantage we can find. When we return—’

‘First things first, huh?’

She turned back to the mirror with a scowl of her own. Seeing her back to him, he relented. Gods, enough had happened that they didn’t need to bicker like this. But he was still concerned. Lilla had been a guest in the fire-maker’s house three times in the past four days. She meant to go again today. He knew her well enough that once she set her mind on something, there was no gainsaying her. He came up behind her, his hands slipping around her hips. ‘What’s he like – this son of Kallinikos?’

Her hands settled over his. ‘Quiet. Insular,’ she said to the face in the mirror. ‘I’ve tried everything to charm him but he seems immune to it. I mean, he’s not unfriendly. But nervous. . . Awkward around me.’

‘He’s probably terrified of you,’ Erlan chuckled. ‘Is he married?’

‘He has a wife. A tiny woman who never says a word. She seems more servant than companion to him. At least from what I’ve seen.’

‘You should be careful. I know the emperor introduced you but I don’t think he’d be too happy about your getting too close to his firemaker.’

‘He’s got more important things to worry about than me—’

‘I’m serious. Besides, there are dangerous folk prowling the city.’ Erlan was certain that Lucia couldn’t be the only enemy skulking within the walls.

‘I know what I’m doing.’

‘Do you?’

She tipped back her head and kissed him. ‘I’ll be careful.’

There was a bang on the