“I'm sure he would,” Kirsh replied tonelessly.
“Good, good… well, you should go now. You've got a lot to do, you said.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And make sure you release Dirk immediately. I want to hear no more of this nonsense between you two. He is the Goddess's instrument.”
“Yes, sir.”
Antonov resumed his pacing as if Kirsh was no longer in the room, muttering to himself about passing the test the Goddess had set for him. With his heart breaking to see this great man reduced to such a state, Kirsh let himself out without disturbing his father's ranting.
Kirsh closed the door softly and leaned against it. He had thought yesterday Dirk Provin had done the worst he could do, but what his “sign from the Goddess” had done to Antonov made it a worse crime than murder. It would have been better, kinder, to have killed Antonov Latanya, than reduce him to a gibbering madman.
And Dirk was going to get away with it, yet again, because Antonov wanted him in Omaxin. Even worse, Kirsh realized he was going to have to be complicit in Dirk's escape.
The Goddess's instrument, Antonov called him. What a crock.
But the harsh reality was that Kirsh was now effectively responsible for governing Senet. A task he didn't kid himself for a moment he was capable of undertaking without help. Kirsh was caught in an intolerable bind. He could only countermand his father's orders—only rule Senet, for that matter, at a time she was badly in need of a leader—if he announced to the world the Lion of Senet was insane.
He closed his eyes in a futile attempt to shut out the world for a moment. The irony was exquisite. Only Dirk, the “Goddess's instrument,” probably fully appreciated the depth of the calamity facing Senet.
Finally, Kirsh opened his eyes and pushed off against the door. If he couldn't execute Dirk Provin then it left him only one other course of action. The man who had orchestrated this disaster, and brought Senet to the brink of ruin in the first place, could damn well help him put the pieces back together again.
One way or another, Kirsh promised himself, Dirk has to pay.
irk spent only one night in prison before Kirsh sent for him. The order for his release surprised Dirk a little. He had spent a long sleepless night trying to work out how he was going to get himself out of this particular mess and had come up with absolutely nothing.
Dirk had finally run out of answers.
The problem all stemmed from dealing with someone like Marqel, he'd concluded in the early hours of the morning. Dirk had a gift for anticipating the behavior of his adversaries, in part because he understood how they thought. He could put himself in his opponents' boots and instinctively extrapolate their most likely course of action. But to do that, he had to be able to think like they did. Dirk's weakness—his failure in dealing with Marqel—was that he could barely conceive of a mind so amoral, self-absorbed, so willing to do whatever it took to protect her own position without any thought for the consequences.
It was almost midday when he returned by carriage to the Lord of the Suns' palace, unshaven, dirty and hungry, his jaw swollen and bruised where Kirsh had hit him. The prince was waiting for him in the study that had, until yesterday, been Dirk's. He was sitting behind the desk, a glass of wine in his hand, an almost empty decanter on the desk beside him.
Kirsh looked up when Dirk entered, scowling. “I'd offer you some wine, but I intend to drink every last drop of this myself.”
“Be my guest,” Dirk offered. It was his wine, after all.
“Enjoy your night in the cells?”
“Not particularly.”
Kirsh swallowed the remains of his glass and poured himself another. “I was going to hang you this morning.”
“Without a trial?” Dirk asked, taking the seat opposite the carved desk.
“Without so much as a fanfare.”
“What changed your mind?”
“The fact my father seems to have lost his,” Kirsh snapped.
“I'm sorry …”
“No, you're not!” he spat in disgust. “It's what you intended all along. You set out to destroy him, Dirk. Marqel has that much right. Well, you'll be delighted to know you succeeded. He's a broken man. His mind is completely gone.”
Enough of Dirk's plans had gone awry in the past day that the news did not surprise him. And from what he'd seen of the Lion of Senet yesterday, it wasn't hard to guess what had happened. But he was disappointed in Antonov. He thought the shock and the madness would be temporary. Was counting on it, in fact. Just a short time of dazed insanity before Antonov realized the truth. And then, with Antonov enraged and determined to seek vengeance for the needless killing of his youngest son to return the Age of Light, Dirk would barely have had to lift a finger. With the depth of the deceit played on Antonov exposed, Dirk wouldn't need to bring the Shadowdancers down.
Antonov would have—should have—done it for him.
“He'll get over it, surely?”
“He's upstairs explaining to himself how the Goddess set you up as her instrument to test his faith, Dirk. He's not going to get over it. He won't allow himself to. That's asking him to face a truth he isn't able to deal with.”
“And what about you, Kirsh? Are you ready to deal with the truth?”
“I don't know what the truth is, Dirk, but I'm damn sure it's nothing you're mixed up in.”
“So why delay my execution? If you believe I deliberately set out to destroy your father, I would think you couldn't kill me quick enough.”
“He wants you alive. He's actually calling you the ‘Goddess's instrument,’ now.” Kirsh laughed harshly at the irony. “Personally, I think you're evil incarnate, but as my only alternative is to execute the Lord of the Suns for murder and announce to the world the Lion of Senet is a babbling lunatic, I have no choice but to play along with him for the time being.”
“For the time being?” Dirk asked. “I'm not interested in a temporary stay of execution while you get your mess sorted out, Kirsh, just to have you turn on me again as soon as I'm no longer required. Either I'm free and reinstated, or you can execute me today and to hell with the consequences.”
Kirsh glared at him. “I wish I knew if you were bluffing.”
“Try me and find out.”
He downed the wine in a single swallow and poured the dregs of the decanter into his glass. “Is Misha alive, Dirk?”
The question caught Dirk off guard. “As far as I know … yes, he is.”
Dirk was astonished by the obvious relief in Kirsh's eyes atthe news.
“What will it cost to get him back?”
“I have no idea.”
“But you can find out, can't you?” There was an edge of desperation in Kirsh's voice. And he was more than a little drunk, despite the early hour. “I don't care what you've been pretending these last few months, you know the Baenlanders, Dirk. They'll treat with you, won't they?”
“I can talk to them,” he said cautiously, not willing to share the news he had already sent Tia to fetch Misha. Until he knew what Kirsh was up to, he didn't want to reveal something so valuable. “I can't promise anything.”
Kirsh nodded thoughtfully. “Here's the deal, then. You're free and you're reinstated. You can be Lord of the Shadows, Lord of the Suns, Lord of the whole freaking universe for all I care. In return, you'll help me keep a lid on things until Misha gets home.”
“And then what?”
“And then it's Misha's problem.”
Kirsh was truly desperate, Dirk realized. And out of that desperation, Dirk might yet have a chance to redeem things. He nodded cautiously. “I'll agree on two conditions.”
“You're in no position to demand anything, Dirk Provin. I could send you straight back to that cell I just hauled you out of and leave you there to rot. Antonov's mad, remember. Push me too far and I'll lock you up, throw the key into Lake Ruska and just explain your continuing absence to my father by telling him you're busy.”
“I don't want anything
unreasonable, Kirsh.”
“What do you want?”
“I want your word you'll not interfere in anything I do as Lord of the Suns.”
Kirsh thought about that for a moment and then shrugged. “If it doesn't endanger Senet, you can do whatever you damned well please. What was the other condition?”
“Divorce Alenor.”
Kirsh didn't answer him.
“You might as well, Kirsh. The only reason you married her was to keep Antonov happy. And you don't have to be married to her to be Regent of Dhevyn.” When Kirsh still didn't reply, he added: “If you won't do it for Alenor, do it for Marqel.”
“She's the High Priestess, Dirk. I couldn't marry her, even if I wanted to.”
“No, but I'm sure she'd appreciate the gesture.”
“You're a cynical little bastard, aren't you?”
“I'm cynical? You want me to help you cover up Antonov's insanity while you wait for your invalid brother to get back so he can pick up the pieces, saving you from having to deal with the responsibilities of being a prince, Kirsh. Don't lecture me on being cynical.”
“I want you to take responsibility for what you've done, Dirk. Antonov's lost his mind because of something you did. You created this mess. Now you can damn well help me fix it.”
“And what about Marqel?”
“What about her?”
“She's been exposed as a fraud. Do you think you can just ignore that? If I remain Lord of the Suns, she can't remain High Priestess.”
“Why not?”
“Because the first thing I intend to do is disband the Shadowdancers and outlaw them as heretics.”
“I told you I won't permit you to do anything to endanger Senet.”
“Getting rid of the Shadowdancers is the biggest favor I can do Senet, Kirsh.”
The prince was silent for a time, and then he looked at Dirk with a puzzled expression. “Is that why you did this, Dirk? Is that why you destroyed my father? Why you murdered Belagren? Why you're so determined to ruin Marqel? What did the Shadowdancers ever do to you to warrant such hatred?”
“They stole my life from me, Kirsh,” he replied flatly. He didn't deny the charge of murdering Belagren. There didn't seem much point. “Your father and Belagren destroyed everything I loved. They took away the man I thought was my father. They made me kill my real father. They burned my mother alive… How much more do you think I was going to take before I decided I'd had enough?”
“I thought you were my friend,” he accused, as if that alone should be enough to cancel out all the wrongs that had been done to him.
“I am your friend, Kirsh, which is the only reason I'm willing to help you now. But I was never your father's friend. Or Belagren's. They both had plans for me about which I was neither consulted nor concerned.”
“You'll help me then?”
“Yes.”
“How do I trust you to keep your word?”
“By keeping yours.”
Kirsh seemed to accept that. He nodded. “Then we'll compromise,” he said. “I can't remove Marqel from her position of High Priestess, even if I thought she should be denounced, which I don't. My father still believes in her, just as he still believes in you, more fool him. But he's decided he needs to go to Omaxin to speak to the Goddess. I'll make sure she goes with him. That will keep her out of sight until the furor over the eclipse dies down, at least.”
“That's only a temporary solution.”
“That's all I care about, right now.”
“And Alenor?”
“She can have her divorce,” he shrugged, picking up the empty decanter with a frown. “All we ever did was make each other miserable.” Kirsh looked up at Dirk, suddenly suspicious. “Which reminds me, what did you do with Alexin and Tia Veran?”
“They're gone.”
“They were condemned to die. Alexin committed treason.”
“He committed the crime of falling in love with the wrong woman, Kirsh. That's a crime you're just as guilty of. I'd be careful about setting a precedent, if I were you.”
Kirsh scowled at the reminder. “Just make sure I never see him again, Dirk. Or that troublemaking little bitch Tia Veran.”
Dirk smiled faintly. “I don't think you need worry about Tia or Alexin. I can't imagine either of them wants to see you again.”
Kirsh leaned back in his chair, spinning his empty wineglass back and forth by the stem, staring at it as if he could find all the answers he needed in the play of light reflected off the cut crystal surface. “So what happens now?”
“Get Antonov out of Bollow. If he wants to go to Omaxin, then there's no better place for him. Up there he'll be out of the sight of prying eyes. Keep him there as long as you can. Let him pray to the Goddess as much as he wants. You and I need to get back to Avacas. We can't rule Senet from Bollow.”
“I don't want to rule Senet at all, Dirk.”
“I know,” Dirk agreed, thinking Kirsh's lack of political ambition was half the reason he got mixed up with Marqel. He thought like a soldier, not a statesman. “But you may not have a choice.”
“What do you mean?”
“Misha was at death's door when he was taken. If he's no better when he gets back, or worse, if he dies, you'll be right back where you are now.”
“Baston of Damita is dead, too,” Kirsh reminded him, miserably. “Who's going to rule Damita?”
“Recall Oscon from exile.”
Kirsh scoffed at the suggestion. “You want me to reinstate the man who fought against my father with Johan Thorn during the Age of Shadows? You'll want me to restore Rainan next.”
“If the alternative is that you have to worry about Damita, then yes, you should reinstate Prince Oscon.”
“He's your maternal grandfather. Is that why you want him back in power?”
“He's your maternal grandfather, too, Kirsh. Besides, like you, I'm a second son. Rees has a much better claim to Damita than I do. Misha has the best claim of all. He's the eldest son of Oscon's eldest daughter. Whether or not you want to add to his burden once he returns to Avacas by asking him to take on Damita's throne as well, is another matter entirely.”
“But the Church declared Oscon a heretic.”
Dirk smiled. “I am the Church, Kirsh. As of now, he's forgiven.”
Kirsh shook his head in bewilderment. “Is nothing sacred to you?”
“Political decisions imposed by the Church to suit the ambitions of a prince they're trying to placate aren't sacred, Kirsh. They not only deserve to be overturned, they must be, if you intend Senet to survive this and prosper.”
“And that's the difference between you and me, Dirk,” Kirsh replied heavily. “You're a born politician. You're already thinking about ten years from now. I just want to keep Senet intact until Misha gets home.”
arqel exploded with fury when she learned Kirsh had not only released Dirk Provin, but reinstated him. Eryk told her about it. He was bubbling with the news Prince Kirsh had reconsidered his rash decision of the previous day and had rightfully released Lord Dirk and restored him to his position as Lord of the Suns.
The stupidity of the decision left her gasping. And it worried her. If Kirsh loved her as much as he claimed, he should have killed Dirk with his bare hands. He should have destroyed him without hesitation. Instead, he had caved in like a tunnel built of sand and allowed Dirk to take charge the way he took charge with everything.
She found Kirsh in the morning room, talking with Rees Provin. Storming into the room, she didn't even wait for them to acknowledge her presence before she let loose with her tirade.
“You let him go!”
Kirsh looked up at her, wincing at her tone.
“What were you thinking? Do you realize what you've done?”
“Would you excuse us, Rees?” he said to the duke.
Rees Provin bowed silently and left without a word, deliberately avoiding meeting Marqel's eye. He thoughtfully closed the doors behind him when he left.
&
nbsp; “You freed him,” she spat angrily. “You let him just walk away.”
“I didn't have a choice, Marqel.”
“Of course you had a choice. Your choice was not to let Dirk Provin get away with murder.”
“I need him.”
“For what? To remind you what an idiot you are?”
“Antonov's sick,” he tried to explain. “I need Dirk's help …”
“What's wrong with doing it on your own?”
“If these were normal times, there'd be nothing wrong with it,” he said, wounded by her lack of sympathy. “But in case it slipped your notice, yesterday the Goddess very publicly turned her back on the Shadowdancers, Marqel, and made a mockery out of your whole religion. Without the Lord of the Suns very publicly supporting me, I haven't got a hope in hell of controlling anything. Strange as it may seem, threatening to execute him for murder isn't really the way to secure his cooperation.”
“So he gets away with it. Like he gets away with everything else he's done.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Why can't you just kill him and appoint a new Lord of the Suns?”
“Because the appointment would take months. Months I don't have. Dirk is Lord of the Suns and I'm stuck with it.”
Marqel was livid. “And what happens to me? Did you spare that a thought while you were forgiving your old chum for everything else?”
“You're still High Priestess,” he assured her.
“High Priestess of what?” she snarled. “Leave Dirk Provin in charge of the Church and within a month there won't be anything for me to be High Priestess of!”
“And if I execute the Lord of the Suns after the Goddess so loudly declared her support for the Sundancers, it will rip Senet apart. I don't mind fighting a war, Marqel, but I'm damned if I'll start one among my own people.”
Lord of the Shadows Page 41
