Underworld Rise of the Lycans by Greg Cox

Author:Greg Cox
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-03-25T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

CASTLE CORVINUS

Lucian tossed and turned on his straw pallet, but sleep would not come. After attending to the feast all night, he should have been exhausted, yet his mind was tormented by the thought of Sonja marrying Nicolae. Jealousy and depression combined to make every moment an ordeal, keeping him from his rest.

“Lucian?”

He opened his eyes to see a shadowy figure creeping toward him. Irritation flared in his heart as, for a moment, he thought that Leyba was making yet another blatant attempt to seduce him. Will she never leave me alone? he thought angrily. What must I do to discourage her?

His unwanted visitor drew closer, however, and Lucian saw that it was, in fact, another lycan servant, named Grushenka, who worked as a laundress within the castle. Of peasant descent, she was scrawny and towheaded where Leyba was dark and voluptuous.

“Yes,” he inquired, sitting up. “What is it?”

Grushenka looked about her nervously, as though to assure herself that no one was watching, then reached beneath her dingy apron to extract a roll of yellow parchment, bound with a gold silk ribbon.

Lucian’s heart leaped at the sight of the ribbon. No lycan female ever possessed anything so fine, but Sonja and the other highborn vampire ladies often wore such ribbons in their hair.

Can it be, he wondered, that the missive comes from the princess herself?

“Lady Sonja asked me to give this to you,” Grushenka whispered, confirming Lucian’s wishful supposition. She glanced around furtively once more. “But not when Soren or anyone else might be looking.”

Lucian nodded, trying his best to conceal his mounting excitement. “Many thanks, Grushenka,”

he said sincerely. “I’m sure the princess appreciates your discretion.”

As do I, he thought.

The fretful laundress seemed more anxious to conclude her mysterious errand than curious about the contents of the parchment. She slunk back into the corridors outside the murky alcove in which Lucian slept.

He waited until her footsteps had faded away before carefully untying the ribbon, taking pains not to rip the delicate silk. He lifted the ribbon to his nose and inhaled the unforgettable fragrance of Sonja’s hair.

Heart pounding, he unfurled the parchment. Inside he found a short message written in an elegant hand that could only belong to the learned princess. Lucian thanked fate that, unlike many of his lycan confreres, he had taught himself to read:

Dearest friend,

Meet me in the castle chapel at the stroke of noon. Pray tell no one of this note.

Your companion in adversity,

S.

Lucian read the brief missive over and over, the tumult in his soul growing by leaps and bounds each time he perused the tantalizing lines. Although he tried to keep a tight rein on his fevered imagination, wild fancies raced through his brain, filling him with both hope and anxiety. What does this mean? he wondered fervidly, all thought of sleep forgotten. Why this secret meeting?

Rising from his pallet, he hastily dressed and made himself ready to answer Sonja’s summons.

The bells had only recently tolled eleven, yet he hurried as though his immortality depended on it.

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