The black oak grove stood quiet but for the faint whisper of wind. Sable-silver leaves tumbled over the snow-dusted ground. A pile had delicately fallen on the six-by-two-foot dirt mound where Nate’s father lay since they’d buried him yesterday. The silvery leaves blanketed his grave, as if the forest longed to keep the man warm. But he was no longer here.
Mina stepped silently, not wanting to disturb Brenna and Nate. Brenna stood beside the boy, a slender arm draped around his shoulders. The cut of death dug deep for everyone, including the villagers of Hiddleston. But nothing hurt more to a young boy than the loss of his father.
Brenna spoke gentle words to the boy at her side.
“They’re walking together, Ivan and your father,” she was saying, just like she was telling a bedtime story. “Remember how Ivan would admire your father’s forge work. No one could craft a sword or dagger as strong or as beautiful as your father.”
“Papa loved these woods.” Nate’s voice was rusty but proud.
“I know.” She squeezed him closer. “That’s why the hart wolves thought it best he be laid to rest here. I think he’d be proud of that. Don’t you?”
“Aye. ’e would.” He wiped his sleeve across his nose and heaved out a big breath. “Best get back to camp. Still cleaning what weapons we still got.”
“Yes. You’d better get busy.”
Nate tore away, running toward the Harrison farm—what was left of it. Brenna didn’t look surprised to find Mina behind her. She would’ve heard her regardless, or smelled her, being a vampire herself.
“Is Friedrich asking for me?” Her eyes were rimmed red, though no tears stood out on her cheeks. She must’ve wept all that she possibly could by now. For the dead, for her injured children, for Izzy now gone.
Brenna met her on the trail, and they fell in line together.
“Actually, we’ve been invited to the burial rite of the Bloodguard men. Everyone is there already.”
Brenna paused mid-step and met her gaze. A sad smile quirked her lips. “That is an honor, as I know they are such a private lot. I still don’t even know where any of them came from. Where they were born, if they have parents, siblings, anyone we should write.”
Mina linked her arm with Brenna and led her deeper into the forest where she knew the ceremony was taking place. The exact place where the forty guardsmen pledged their fealty to her, now only thirty-four.
“Aleksei has a mother and a sister,” Mina mused, a pang striking her at the core for how painful this loss would be for them. “Irena is a lovely mirror of her brother. I fear they will take this very hard.”
Brenna lifted her chin. “I must pay them a visit and thank them personally for his service.”
“I feel that I should be the one. After all, Aleksei was killed while—”
The rest stuck in her throat. Mina couldn’t admit the guilt she felt because men had died to protect her.
Brenna squeezed closer as they walked along, hooked arm in arm. “And do you think if Aleksei had lived that he would regret having risked himself to protect you?”
Mina shook her head, knowing he wouldn’t.
“Of course not.”
Brenna’s gaze fell forward as Mina guided her around a thick bramble of brush she recognized. They were edging closer.
“Aleksei was the one who carried Izzy to safety from Winter Hill.” Brenna’s voice sounded distant as she stumbled back to that memory. Then she laughed. “I remember her remarking they had the same color hair.”
It was Mina’s turn to squeeze her friend closer. “We’ll get her back.”
Brenna’s lips drew tight, but she tried to smile anyway, then they were rounding the bend up to the meadow Mina remembered.
The black-clad and hooded Bloodguard stood in a perfect circle around the six bodies on pyres. Their dead brethren dressed exactly like them, as if they were headed into battle, each holding their weapon of choice across their chest, ready for combat.
Vampires typically had family tombs where they would be buried, but the Bloodguard followed an ancient ritual. One where the warrior went up in flames.
Arabelle and Marius stood side by side at the head, Marius with his arm around her waist, holding her up. Arabelle’s injuries had been extensive. The dark circles under her eyes, which now shone bright with her new vampirism, revealed the wounds and the new change were taking their toll. New-borns needed rest for the body to make the change. But of course she would never lie in bed for this.
Mina walked ahead of Brenna toward where Friedrich, Helena, and the boys stood on the other side of Nikolai and Sienna. All in one line at the head of the pyres where Aleksei lay. Grant stood next to Caden, an arm around the gangly teen’s shoulder. Grant had been subdued in his pursuit of Radomir and Izzy by a dozen Legionnaires. And though not drastically injured, he lost his chance at catching them before they crossed into the border of the Glass Tower where hundreds of new-borns with the blood madness guarded the grounds. His forehead bore a deep cut and his jaw and eye nasty bruises, yet he seemed unaffected, his focus intent on the men on the pyres.
Mina’s breath caught at Mikhail standing apart with torch in hand. He didn’t look at her as he approached, staring down at his men from a grim mask of calm.
The only sound was the crackling of the torch and their quiet footfalls across the meadow. Friedrich pulled Brenna close to his side when they reached them, brushing a kiss atop her head. He’d left Olog, his chef from Winter Hill, behind with Beatrice and Denny. Mina should’ve been surprised by the oafish man’s soft heart for young Beatrice and the duke’s children, but nothing surprised her about these people anymore. They cared for one another the way people ought to, especially in a cold world where evil washed the land in blood and ash.
“Brethren!” Mikhail’s booming voice snapped everyone’s attention to him. “The creed.”
In unison, they fisted right hands over their hearts and recited with vigor.
“We are the Bloodguard. Noble by birth, brothers by choice. We smite the evil ones. We avenge the innocents. We right all wrongs. We are the cold blade in the dark night. We give our swords, our bodies, our strength, and our blood. We bleed as one. We die as one.”