The Kingmakers(67)

Adele asked Montrose, “Where did you get the bomb?”

“From an ally. The one who brought us to Alexandria.”

“His name?”

“I don't know.”

“That won't do, General,” Adele said tersely. “You can't earn resurrection for such feeble information.”

“He didn't give his name and I couldn't see him well,” Montrose asserted. “He must have been one of your Undead, now risen. He seemed very much like a vampire.”

Adele glanced at her companions, eyeing Greyfriar curiously. Then she turned. “I've heard enough, General. You may rot here forever.”

“No!” Montrose croaked. “You promised to kill me. I must be reborn.”

The empress continued walking, followed by her two men.

“Wait!” the Undead general screamed and struggled to rise. “If I give him to you, will you kill me?”

“You said you didn't see him clearly,” General Anhalt said suspiciously. “Suddenly you can identify him?”

“I didn't see his face,” Montrose retorted. “He brought us here as if we were refugees from the war because he knew you were soft and would take us in. He was a man of position and wore a ring, a large golden ring with a stone.”

Adele crossed her arms. “Many men wear rings. That's not helpful.”

“It had a symbol on it. Give me a pencil and paper, and I'll draw it.”

The empress gave her companions a glance of suppressed excitement. Anhalt shook his head, unconvinced. She slid back the panel in the door and called for pen and paper. After a few minutes, the door opened and Corporal Darby handed her several sheets of heavy rag stationery and a silver inkwell with an ornate pen.

Adele smiled. “Well, I'm not drafting a formal letter, but thank you.” The door was closed again and she took the material to the eager Montrose.

He dipped the pen and starting scratching awkwardly across the paper, pausing frequently and cursing. “I long for the day I won't have to use my hands for things like this.”

Adele stared at the man as he concentrated on the page. He was so focused and sincere. He was the enemy and had blindly tried to kill her, murdering nine people rather than her, and wounding scores more. He fascinated her. He was no mindless bloodman who served out of habit. Montrose believed he was part of the vampire culture. He would rise from the dead and inherit the Earth. All his suffering in this life would be repaid in the next.

Adele could tell from Greyfriar's posture and tone that he loathed the prisoner. No doubt much of it was the bombing, but there was more to it. The swordsman held an unexpected sense of disdain for this mere slave who was so gullible as to believe the slavemaster's promises. Or perhaps he felt disgust that Montrose thought he could ever be like Gareth, or wanted to.

“Here,” Montrose announced. “I didn't see it clearly for long, but it looked like this.”

Adele took the sheet with a flush of dread and excitement. The design on the paper was a stylized “A” with vague bordering lines. Under the letter was a shape, rudely drawn, but clear enough. It was a gear.

The empress silently held out the paper to General Anhalt. The sirdar took it and, at first, turned it several directions as if he could make nothing of this foolishness. But then he looked at it for a second and his face froze. Slowly his eyes grew dark.

He breathed, “Your Majesty, this is nonsense. It's just something he saw.”

“Saw it where?” Adele replied quietly. “We both know what that is.”

Anhalt folded the paper as if not to see it. “You can't possibly act on this thing's evidence. He's a lunatic at best. And we know he's an agent of Cesare.”

“I'm not going to act, per se.” Adele stepped to Greyfriar's side. “But I am going to investigate.”

Greyfriar asked, “What is it?”

The empress took the sheet and held it up. “This is the seal of Lord Aden. And he does, in fact, wear a ring with this symbol emblazoned on it.”

The swordsman said grimly, “Let's have him then.”

“Wait!” Anhalt exclaimed.

“Easy, General,” Adele said. “I'm not going to do something rash.”

Greyfriar snarled, “I'll do something rash. If he tried to kill you, let's finish him.”

“No, no,” Adele cautioned. “We have a little thing called law. This sketch is hardly evidence. It is suspicious, however, and we can't ignore it.”

Anhalt said, “Lord Aden is the master of our war-building program. Why would he conspire with vampires?”

“I have no idea,” Adele replied.

“Coal,” came a word from Montrose.

“Beg pardon?” the empress said.