Lord of the Shadows

by Jennifer Fallon

  Reithan smiled briefly. “I'd rather get wet than arrested.”

  “Me, too,” she agreed, “but I'd like to know what's going on. Maybe if we get a bit closer, we can find out.”

  “Or we could go back to Bethany's,” he suggested.

  Tia scowled at his hopeful expression. “See something at Bethany's that caught your fancy, did you?”

  “Saw quite a few things there that caught my fancy, actually.”

  She rolled her eyes impatiently. “Don't you men ever think of anything else?”

  “Not if we can help it.”

  “We're going to the gate, Reithan,” she announced firmly.

  “Yes, mistress.”

  Tia let out a snarl of frustration and began pushing her way forward again. The crowd was even denser as they neared the gate, the large number of soldiers checking everyone with a thoroughness that disturbed her. She recalled the look on Eryk's face as the Lord of the Suns' carriage trundled past the other day. Had he said something to Dirk? Was that the reason they were checking everyone's identity?

  Suddenly fearful, she turned to Reithan. “I think maybe we shouldn't try getting through the gate right now.”

  “I think you're right. Back to Bethany's?”

  The crowd carried them forward as they tried to decide the best course of action.

  “I guess that's the safest place.”

  “What do you suppose prompted them to start checking people?”

  Tia was afraid she knew, but if she told Reithan, he would be furious she'd not mentioned it before now. And it wasn't as if she knew for certain that was the reason…

  “I don't know. Let's just get out of here.”

  The crowd behind them had grown so dense that there was no way they could go back the way they had come. Tia glanced around and noticed the throng seemed a little thinner on the street to the left, so she shoved her way across with Reithan close on her heels. When they reached the end of the side street, Tia stumbled as she suddenly stepped out into an open space and the reason the area was less crowded became apparent.

  The wider street at the other end was lined with soldiers and less than ten feet away was a carriage with the Lion of Senet's crest on the door. Inside the carriage sat a young woman robed in red.

  Reithan stumbled into Tia as he broke through. “Watch it!” Tia snapped as she regained her balance.

  The young woman in the carriage turned her head at the sound of the commotion.

  Marqel recognized Tia in the same instant that Tia recognized her.

  “There she is!” Marqel screeched. “That's her! Quickly!”

  Tia had no time to react. The soldiers were on her before she had time to cry out a warning to Reithan. She heard the sound of a blade unsheathing behind her as her legs were kicked out from beneath her and she was shoved facedown onto the wet cobbles. Her hands were jerked savagely behind her. A knee pressed into her lower back. The sound of metal against metal filled her ears. The taste of the rain-slick street filled her mouth and nose. She heard shouts. Heard Reithan cry out. Tia tried to move her head, but she could see nothing but the booted feet of her captors and the little rivulets of water than ran between the cobbles.

  And then the sound of fighting suddenly stopped and the pressure on her back was eased. She was hauled to her feet.

  Tia looked around urgently for Reithan. She couldn't see him at first. Then she spied him, lying on his back on the ground near the street entrance. His sword lay discarded, a few inches from his open hand. His vest was open, his shirt covered by a slowly spreading bloodstain. The rain pattered down on him. His eyes were half open, staring blindly into the distance, but he didn't seem to notice the water dripping into them. The water trickling away from him toward the gutters was tinted red. One of the soldiers walked over to him and poked him with his boot. Reithan's eyes didn't blink. He didn't move.

  “No!” Tia sobbed in a strangled whisper.

  The soldier turned to the High Priestess. “He's dead.”

  “No!” Tia cried, as if by denying the truth, then it couldn't be real. Reithan wasn't dead. He mustn't be dead. She would not allow him to be dead.

  The High Priestess shrugged. “He doesn't really matter. She's the important one.”

  Numb with shock and grief, Tia turned to look up at Marqel, sitting in the carriage with a smug, malicious smile on her face.

  “Hello, Tia,” she said. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  arqel waited until she was headed back to the Lord of the Suns' palace outside the city before she let her delight show. Alone in Antonov's luxurious carriage, she laughed until tears streamed down her face. The look on Tia Veran's face when she realized she was cornered was priceless.

  I'm High Priestess now. Mistress of the Lion of Senet.

  It was about time Dirk Provin remembered that. He might have arranged for her to get there, but that didn't mean he could treat her as if she no longer meant anything. As for that superior little bitch Jacinta D'Orlon, well, sooner or later, Marqel would find a way to cut her down to size, too.

  Stupid prick! Did Dirk Provin really think he could say those things about me and get away with it?

  Marqel couldn't wait to return to the palace. She couldn't wait to see the look on Dirk's face when she told him she'd found Tia Veran and had her arrested. Or that the fellow with her—Reithan somebody-or-other—was dead. Marqel didn't really know who the man was, but she was betting Dirk knew. And even if he didn't know him, Dirk was squeamish when it came to people dying.

  It was nice to feel as if she had the upper hand for a change. Despite her newfound wealth and position, things weren't going quite as she would have liked. Antonov welcomed her into his bed each night, but seemed to have little interest in conversing with her. He certainly didn't ask her advice on matters of state as often as she imagined he would. Or should. He sometimes asked what the Goddess thought of things, but he wasn't interested in Marqel's opinion. And Madalan rarely consulted her about the running of the Shadowdancers since resuming her role as the High Priestess's right hand, a circumstance that had pleased Marqel enormously, until she realized the old hag was deliberately keeping her in the dark.

  She would have to do something about that eventually, too.

  But neither Madalan nor Antonov was really a problem at the moment. One was keeping her free from the mundane tasks of administration; the other was keeping her in the manner to which she had very quickly become accustomed.

  Her immediate problem was Dirk. His attitude toward her had grown increasingly impatient since he'd been appointed Lord of the Suns, a fact that had been driven home to her forcefully when she overheard him talking to Lady Jacinta. He had little time for Marqel and when he did deign to notice her, it was usually to demand she hand over more and more of the Shadowdancers' wealth to appease that senile idiot Claudio Varell. In fact, other than provide her with a carefully choreographed set of instructions for the eclipse ceremony, Dirk had barely even acknowledged her existence since she arrived in Bollow.

  Well, he was about to learn the folly of treating her like she was insignificant. The Goddess was about to speak again, and Dirk Provin wouldn't know a thing about it until Marqel announced that at least one of the sacrifices to be burned at the eclipse would be the daughter of the heretic, Tia Veran.

  Dirk would be livid. She knew that, but no longer cared. He might be the Lord of the Suns now, but the balance of power had shifted subtly in her direction. She had given Antonov the route through the delta; she had announced the eclipse—strictly speaking Dirk had announced it, but everyone thought it came from her—and she was about to sacrifice the heretic's daughter to the Goddess. Her position grew more secure every day, and after the eclipse, nothing could threaten her. Not even Dirk Provin.

  Antonov wasn't at the palace when she arrived. Despite the rain, he'd gone hunting with Lord Parqette, Lord D'Orlon, Prince Baston of Damita and the Duke of Elcast, Dirk's brother, Rees, who had arrived yesterday and was also
staying at the palace.

  Dirk was in the Lord of the Suns’ study with Claudio Varell. Marqel entered the room without knocking and took the empty chair opposite the desk without waiting for either of them to offer her a seat.

  Dirk glanced up at her with a frown. “I thought you went into the city.”

  “I did.”

  He said nothing, simply waited for some sort of explanation for this unwelcome interruption.

  “Ask me what I did in the city,” she suggested brightly.

  “We're busy, Marqel. I don't have time for your games.”

  “Well, if you don't want to know who I arrested …” she said, rising to her feet.

  Claudio's eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You had somebody arrested?”

  “Who?” Dirk asked.

  “An old friend of yours, actually.”

  “Who, Marqel?”

  “Tia Veran.” Marqel watched Dirk closely, but as usual, he gave away nothing. What does it take to surprise him? What would she have to do to get a reaction from him?

  “You've arrested Neris Veran's daughter?” Claudio gasped. “How did you even know she was in Bollow?”

  “The Goddess told me,” she replied smugly, her eyes fixed on Dirk.

  For a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of anger deep in those cold gray eyes. Then he turned to Claudio. “Would you mind excusing us for a short time, my lord? The High Priestess and I need to talk.”

  Obviously annoyed he was to be excluded, Claudio rose to his feet and bowed stiffly.

  “As you wish, my lord.”

  As soon as the door closed behind Claudio, Marqel turned to Dirk with a smirk. “I don't think he likes you very much.”

  “What did you do with her?”

  “Tia? The City Guard is holding her in the garrison in town until I tell them what to do with her.”

  “It's not up to you to decide her fate.”

  “She's my prisoner and once I tell Antonov about her, she'll be his prisoner.”

  “If you arrested her, Marqel, then she's the Church's prisoner,” Dirk corrected. “I'll take it from here.”

  “You'll do nothing of the kind. She's my prisoner and I'll decide what to do with her.”

  “I outrank you, Marqel, in case it slipped your notice. There's not a man, woman or child in the whole of Senet who wouldn't do my bidding before they did yours. And I include the Lion of Senet, his guard and the Bollow City Guard in that. Think about it.”

  Suddenly, Marqel wasn't quite so sure of herself. Dirk seemed very confident he could take over, and she knew next to nothing about the law, except that as High Priestess she was effectively above it. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps by placing Tia Veran in the custody of the City Guard, Marqel had inadvertently lost control of her.

  “I won't let you have her.”

  “You don't have any choice in the matter.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “That's no longer any of your concern.”

  “What are you going to tell Antonov?”

  “That is also none of your concern.”

  Marqel began to get angry. This was supposed to give her an edge over Dirk. She had no intention of simply handing Tia over.

  “I'll speak to Antonov. I'll tell him the Goddess told me Tia Veran was to remain my prisoner.”

  “Try that and I'll have her killed before you can get anywhere near Antonov to tell him your news. Then you can have the pleasure of telling him how the Goddess wanted you to keep Tia as your prisoner, but she died. Only wait till I get back from the city before you say anything. I want to be there when you try to explain it.”

  “You wouldn't kill Tia Veran.”

  “Try me.”

  Marqel stared at him, wishing there was some way to tell what he was thinking. It was useless and she wasn't sure enough of herself to call his bluff. But if she'd lost this round, she still had one other piece of news that might yet rattle him.

  “Then I suppose you'll want the corpse as well.”

  “What corpse?”

  “The man who was with Tia Veran when we caught her. He resisted arrest. The City Guard had to kill him. His name was Reithan something.”

  For the first time, Marqel saw a hint of genuine emotion in Dirk's eyes, but it was impossible to tell what it was. Shock, maybe? Or grief? Did Dirk know the dead man? If he was a Baenlander like the Veran girl then it was more than likely he did.

  “Did you know him?”

  “Never heard of him.”

  Marqel looked at him curiously. It was the first time she could remember catching Dirk Provin in a lie.

  “You don't look too happy about it,” she smirked. “I thought you'd be thrilled to learn our escaped prisoner has been recaptured. Antonov is certainly going to be pleased.”

  She waited, expecting Dirk to order her to be quiet, but as usual, he did the last thing she expected. He shrugged. “I imagine he will be.”

  “Don't you care I'm going to tell him about her?”

  “Should I?”

  “I thought she was a friend of yours.”

  “She put an arrow in my back, Marqel.”

  “I know, but …”

  “Was that all you wanted to tell me?”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “As I said, that's none of your concern.”

  “If Tia Veran escapes, I'll tell Antonov it was you who let her go,” she warned.

  Dirk seemed genuinely amused. “Don't threaten me, Marqel. If I chose to let Tia Veran go, or set free every prisoner in the Bollow Garrison, for that matter, I'd do it in such a way I could never be blamed for it. I might even find a way to implicate you, just to remind you who's got the most power.”

  “After the eclipse, I'll be the one with all the power,” she retorted. “Antonov will believe anything I tell him.” “I was under the impression he believes anything you tell him now,” Dirk remarked. “Does this mean he still doubts you? How unfortunate.”

  “You know what I mean!”

  “Just stick to what you know best, Marqel,” Dirk suggested. “Leave the politics to those of us who understand it. Have you been practicing for the ceremony?”

  “Of course I have,” she replied with a scowl. “Although it seems a bit melodramatic, if you ask me.”

  “I didn't ask you.”

  “I suppose you need momentous acts to mark momentous occasions.”

  “What?”

  “It's something Belagren said to Madalan once. That you need momentous acts to mark momentous occasions.”

  “Belagren had a very good understanding of human nature,” Dirk agreed. “You could learn a lot from her. Oh, but that's right—she's dead, isn't she? You killed her.”

  Marqel glared at him. “I don't see it interrupting your climb to the top.”

  “You don't see anything past your own nose, Marqel. And now, if that was all you had to tell me, I'm busy.”

  “You're not going to see her?”

  “See who?”

  “Tia Veran!”

  Dirk turned his attention back to the document he'd been discussing with Claudio when she came in. “I'll see you later, Marqel.”

  She glared at him, furious he seemed so unconcerned, so untouched; furious that she had so quickly lost the one chance she had to get something over him and nothing she did seemed to crack his facade.

  “You won't be able to treat me like this for much longer, Dirk Provin.”

  He glanced up at her with a faint smile. “Don't be too sure of that, Marqel,” he said, and then he went back to reading the document as if she were no longer in the room.

  ia's cell was in the back of the Senetian garrison near the southern wall of the city. It was bare, but for a smelly straw mattress, a bucket and a disturbingly long tally scratched on the stone wall by a previous tenant.

  The City Guard threw her into the cell with little care and left her there to wonder about her fate. She had seen nothing more of Marqel and there was no sign
of the Lion of Senet. She had no doubt he would be here soon. No doubt her own death would follow shortly after, probably preceded by unimaginable torment at the hands of Barin Welacin. But her own fate didn't concern her much. She paced the cell restlessly, filled with bitter grief that was almost swamped by an overwhelming guilt.

  Tia couldn't rid herself of the realization that she was responsible for Reithan's death. Replaying those last few fatal moments over and over in her mind, she imagined a thousand things she could have done differently, any one of which might have saved him. If only they'd gone back to Bethany's when Reithan first suggested it. If only they hadn't gone down to the gate to find out what was happening. If only they hadn't turned down that street. If only she'd warned Reithan she thought Eryk had recognized her the other day.

  Barely aware of the tears streaming down her cheeks, she was still tormenting herself with the possibilities when the lock rattled and the door to her cell opened. Tia sniffed back her tears hurriedly and spun around to face the guards, but only one man stepped into the cell. The door closed and the lock rattled again.

  She took a step backward, even though there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

  “You shouldn't have come to Bollow, Tia.”

  Dirk thrust his hands into his pockets. He looked older. More careworn than he had in Omaxin. And he seemed uncomfortable, even a little nervous to be face-to-face with her again. Yet he wasn't afraid. He'd kept no guards to hold her back and he wasn't armed that she could see. But then, he had little to fear other than her anger. If she attacked him, one shout was all it would take to bring the guards back.

  Tia glared at Dirk with all the contempt she could muster. “Did I mess up your meteoric rise to the top of the slime heap? Good!”

  “You risked your life for no good purpose,” he said. “And Reithan's.”

  “Don't you stand there and talk to me about Reithan. It's your fault he's dead.”

  If she was hoping to shift the burden of her guilt, the accusation seemed to have the opposite effect. He shed the last of his uncertainty and stood a little straighter. “How do you figure that? Nobody asked you to come here. If you'd stayed away, Reithan would still be alive.”