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Blood Price

Meredith smoothed the skirt of her silk dress as she hurried anxiously down the stone hall. Of a deep, rose hue that accentuated her dark skin, the rich material clung tightly to her slender shoulders and firm, ample bosom. Tugging fiercely at the feathery ends of a thick auburn braid that tickled the exposed flesh of the cleft between her breasts, she waited with uncharacteristic impatience for the day to give way to night.

Seneschal of House Hyren, First House of the Seldrain, her emerald eyes carefully scrutinized the passage, even in her haste, to assure its cleanliness was up to the High Lady Vandene's exacting standards. As head of the household servants, Mareith ran the manor with the skill and ease of a woman thrice her years. With her fair and just management, she had gained both the trust and loyalty of those beneath her. Having just passed her twenty-second winter, only the Seneschal of the Regent had higher status amongst the humans of Asherah.

A pair of doors hewn from cedar stood at the end of the windowless hallway. Their golden-grained surface glowed from the soft, subtle light that emanated from the many lamps that lined the smooth stone. Wrought of brass and cunningly sculpted into the majestic shape of an eagle in flight, each lamp burned with expensive oil. The aroma of evergreen permeated the air, giving the impression of an unseen, coniferous forest. The smell was so strong that Mareith could almost feel the needle-laden limbs scratching harshly across her skin.

A sigil of power was engraved into the wooden surface, the bold lines edged in precious diamond dust. Its magic was designed to prevent anyone from entering except those who spoke the proper words or were vastly powerful in the Art. Since there were few who could defeat the ward's magic and even fewer who would dare defy the First House, the High Lady was quite safe from any unwanted visitors.

Two guards stood vigil over the only entrance to High Lady Vandene's chambers, their hands resting casually on the leather-wrapped hilts of the long swords belted at their sides. At birth, each had undergone the Rite of Tel'shin binding them to the High Lady in both body and soul. If she felt pain, they felt pain; if she died, they too would die. Either one of them would not hesitate to sacrifice his life for the High Lady's safety and Mareith knew that if she were to approach the doors and try to gain entry without giving the sign of recognition, she would be killed without a second

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