Shalador's Lady

by Bishop, Anne

  “What should I tell Cassie?” Gray asked. “I don’t want her to know about this. Not until she has to. It will break her heart.”

  “Tell her I’ve decided you require more training, and I’m going to personally provide that training. If she has any problem with you spending time at the Keep, she may discuss it with me.”

  “Do you think she will discuss it with you?”

  “No.”

  Didn’t think so.

  “You’ll also work with Daemon and Lucivar.”

  “We’ll let him practice with Jaenelle,” Lucivar said. “When he can keep up with her—and keep track of her—for half a day, he’ll be able to make the run with any other Queen.”

  “That’s settled then,” Saetan said.

  “What happens when Theran breaks Cassidy’s court?” Gray asked.

  “If Theran has the same misunderstanding about courts that you do, he’s in for a rude awakening,” Saetan said. “Except when a court is first formed, not everyone joins at the same time. People come in, people move on.”

  “And sometimes timing can be a delightful knife rammed up someone’s ass,” Daemon purred. “The moment Theran announces his intentions to make Kermilla the Queen, Cassidy can demote him to a regular escort in her First Circle and you can sign a contract to serve as First Escort. That gives her thirteen males in the First Circle. If Cassie chooses not to dismiss him, Theran has to fulfill his contract to the last minute. Next spring, she already has a court that stands, and he’s left trying to build one around a Queen of questionable morals.”

  Gray looked at Daemon. “Did you know he would do this when you let Cassie come to Dena Nehele?”

  Daemon stared at him for a long time. “If I’d known, I would have buried him in a grave that could never be found. But that’s done now, and we have to let this play out as it will.”

  Why?

  He looked at the three men who watched him with such predatory patience and knew the answer.

  Jaenelle.

  If Jaenelle thought Cassie could win against Kermilla without direct help from these men, then she could win. Would win.

  In the next few months, he was going to learn everything he could from these men to make sure of it.

  “When do we start?” he asked.

  “Since we’re all here, now would be a good time,” Saetan replied.

  TERREILLE

  Cassidy glanced out the window again. Gray had left very early that morning, and no one had seen him since—or knew exactly where he’d gone.

  “He had to have told someone where he’d gone,” she said to Talon. “Could he have told one of the Scelties? Someone we didn’t think to ask?”

  “Ranon received a message from Gray around midday saying that he had an appointment and would be back late this evening,” Talon replied. “Cassidy . . .”

  “But he didn’t say where he would be! That’s not like him, Talon. You know that.”

  “I’ll send word through the rogue camps. Maybe he’s up in the mountains somewhere.”

  Why?

  After a couple of nights in her bed, was he already looking for a way to leave?

  “Cassidy . . .”

  She finally heard it. She’d been so preoccupied about Gray, she’d ignored the obvious. Talon had something to tell her, and he wasn’t comfortable saying it.

  “I made a promise a long time ago,” Talon said, “and twice a year I keep that promise. It means I’ll be gone for a day. Maybe two.”

  “Where?”

  “I can’t tell you. Saying more would break a long-standing trust.”

  If she ordered him to, he would tell her—and that would break the trust building between them.

  “Can you promise me that what you do will not harm Dena Nehele or any of its people?” she asked.

  He relaxed. He even smiled. “That I can promise with everything in me.”

  “Then we’ll look forward to your return.”

  “Thank you, Lady.”

  After Talon left the room, Cassidy curled up in a window seat.

  It wasn’t fair to compare Gray and Jhorma, to compare a man who said he loved her with one who had wanted to list being her Consort on his credentials. It wasn’t fair, but Gray’s unexplained absence made her wonder if he would continue to want her now that he was emotionally healed. Being his first lover didn’t mean he wanted her to be his last.

  If that was the case, she would find the strength to let him go with grace. But after he was gone, would she be able to hide the heartache well enough to escape the pity of her own court?

  CHAPTER 28

  TERREILLE

  Dena Nehele Queens rode the trails through the Tamanara Mountains in secret and in silence. Some had made this journey many times over many years. For others, it was the first time they had dared to give anyone this much trust.

  Each of them had the list of trails to follow. Their escorts knew the exact time they had to pass the checkpoints on the trails. Miss the time, and you had a choice: turn back or die. There was no leniency or mercy in the spells that protected the mountain trails—and in this time and place, there was no mercy in the Sapphire-Jeweled Warlord Prince who created those spells year after year, generation after generation. He was the assurance that the Queens who had gathered twice a year to talk with each other were safe from the ones who had ruled.

  When they reached the meeting place, they left horses and escorts behind and entered the clearing alone. Many embraced, relieved to see familiar faces again. But no one asked for a name. They never asked for a name. Even if they lived in neighboring villages and knew each other, they did not acknowledge such things, or ask about children, lovers, or parents.

  Too many had been tortured to death over the years for them to leave all caution behind.

  When the last Queen who chose to make the journey entered the clearing, the Sapphire shields went up around them—protective shields, sight shields, aural shields.

  Witchlight and warming spells made them comfortable. They called in stools, benches, or chairs. Then, safe within the Sapphire shields that would hide them until dawn, they shared their knowledge of their land and their people.

  “It was a good harvest. The best we have had in many years. There will be enough food this year for everyone. The Craft the Rose Queen called the Queen’s Gift made the difference.”

  “Harvests were not so good in the north. The Other Queen was not as generous with her time. She wears a stronger Jewel than the Rose, but I do not think she is as skilled in her Craft—or as caring of the people.”

  “There was trouble in Grayhaven. Some people moved away because of the Other Queen’s presence.”

  “I heard the Rose Queen allowed a community of landens to settle close to her home village. They are courteous and hardworking. They come to the Blood village for supplies and for social events. They show great respect for the Rose.”

  “Warlord Princes who have gone to the Rose’s village have been impressed by the work being done, and by the feel of the village. Fear no longer creeps through the streets. Even Ferall was impressed.”

  “Jared Blaed has healed.”

  A stunned silence.

  “I have heard that too. And that he is the Rose Queen’s lover—by choice. He is becoming a strong leader, and it is said that he knows some very powerful men in Kaeleer.”

  “There is a rumor in the north that the Rose Queen will leave when the spring flowers bloom and the Other Queen will take her place and rule Dena Nehele.”

  “That one wants much and offers little.”

  “The south has not heard these rumors. There is no sign that the Rose intends to leave. Her court is strong and gathers strength around itself.”

  “I have heard the rumor too. Theran Grayhaven wants the Other to rule and will give her our land.”

  “There was some . . . strangeness . . . about the way the Rose departed from Grayhaven and ended up with the Shaladorans. It is speculated that it had something to d
o with the Other Queen.”

  “The Rose has brought a young Shaladoran Queen into her court for training. The girl is learning the Old Ways and Protocol. She is respectful and performs her duties well. And there is real affection between the girl and the Rose.”

  “The Other also had a young Queen as a companion for a while. Many of the Warlord Princes had strong reservations about the girl’s behavior and her ability to be a good Queen. After seeing her with the Other in Grayhaven, they are of one voice—they will not tolerate her setting up a court in Dena Nehele, not even in the smallest village. They say the girl embraces too much of what was hated in the Queens who were purged by the witch storm.”

  “The Other chose such an undesirable Queen for a companion and yet Theran Grayhaven wants her to rule the rest of us?”

  “In the Rose, Ranon has found a Queen for his people. If the Other tries to take Dena Nehele, he will fight such a change.”

  “Will Jared Blaed?”

  Another silence.

  Throughout the night they talked—and sometimes they cried. At the first whisper of dawn, the Sapphire spells began to fade, so they vanished their stools, benches, and chairs. They drew the power that had fueled the witchlight and the warming spells back into themselves and prepared for the journey out of the mountains.

  As they made their way back home, they thought about the things that had been said, and they all knew one thing: the Black Widows had been right. Come spring, Dena Nehele would either embrace a hopeful beginning—or face a terrible end.

  CHAPTER 29

  KAELEER

  “Gray?”

  A warm hand rubbed his leg just above the knee.

  “What . . . ?” Gray opened his eyes. They must have been closed because now he could see Daemon crouching in front of the chair he’d collapsed into when he walked into Daemon’s study.

  “Drink this,” Daemon said. “It’s a warm tonic. It will help put some bone back in your legs.”

  “Where did the old bone go?”

  A pause.

  Gray tried to focus on the blurry mug floating in front of him. Too much effort. He let his head fall back against the chair and stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t doing anything. He liked that. A lot.

  He was so damn tired. He had never ever, in the whole of his life, been this tired.

  How did these men do this every day?

  “Gray, did you remember any part of the Protocol that dealt with the First Escort arranging rest periods for the Queen and her escorts?”

  “Huh?”

  “Obviously not.”

  The dry humor in Daemon’s voice told Gray he’d missed something.

  “How’s he doing?” Lucivar’s voice. He sounded amused too. “Looking at him, I guess it’s good Jaenelle doesn’t have as much energy as she used to.”

  Gray had spent one whole morning and afternoon acting as First Escort to Jaenelle Angelline. He whimpered at the thought of her having more energy.

  “It’s all right.” Daemon gave him a soothing pat.

  “Dinner is almost ready,” Lucivar said. “Apparently Mrs. Beale figured a few people would want to turn in early tonight, so dinner is being served early too.”

  “A good decision on her part,” Daemon said. “Come on, Gray. Maybe some food will help.”

  Help what? He’d have to chew it, wouldn’t he? What help was that?

  “Gray?”

  “In a minute,” he murmured. “Just give me another minute.”

  Gray pushed himself to a sitting position, catching the blanket as it slid off his legs. He still felt tired, but he was much better for taking that minute to rest before dinner.

  “Good evening.” Daemon closed the book he was reading and set it on the table next to his chair.

  “Guess I’m still a little groggy.” Gray tried to tidy his hair by running his fingers through it. “I didn’t see you there. Is it time for dinner?” He looked to one side, then the other. “Wasn’t I sitting in a chair before? How did I end up on the sofa?”

  “Boyo, it’s closing in on midnight, and the rest of us had dinner hours ago. You’re on the sofa because Lucivar and I couldn’t keep you awake long enough to get you any farther. We figured you’d sleep just as well there as anyplace else we could carry you.”

  Gray braced his head in his hands. Weeks of studying, working, traveling to the Keep and to SaDiablo Hall for training. “I failed, didn’t I?”

  “You didn’t remember the part about the First Escort being able to insist on rest breaks, but I figure you’ll learn that Protocol fast enough for self-preservation if for nothing else. As for the rest, Lucivar and I agree that the only thing you’re lacking is the finesse that comes from experience. And that you will learn by working beside your Queen.”

  Gray raised his head. “Really?”

  Daemon smiled. “Really. In fact, I have this for you.” He called in a sheet of paper and used Craft to float it over to Gray. “The High Lord wrote it out, so you can be sure the Protocol is exact for retiring a man from a dominant position in a court and giving that title—and the duties that go with it—to someone else.”

  He stared at the words but didn’t try to read them. “When do you think Theran will tell Cassie?”

  “The first day of Winsol is a week from now. Unless he’s a complete bastard, he’ll wait until the celebration is over and people are settling into the routine of winter days. He can’t wait much longer than that to start gathering the men who will form a First Circle, but the moment he does more than try to feel out who might be interested in serving Kermilla, every Queen and Warlord Prince is going to know about it—and Cassie will hear about it. That’s when she should make her declaration of whether she’s going to stay or leave. After that, a lot depends on which Queen the other Queens and Warlord Princes are willing to have rule over their lives.” Daemon stood up. “Come on. We’ll warm up the food Mrs. Beale set aside for you. Then you can get a bit more sleep and be on your way in the morning.” He paused. “My advice is to forget about all of this and enjoy the days of Winsol.”

  Gray’s stomach rumbled. He got to his feet, feeling awake enough to be enthusiastic about food.

  “There is one other piece of advice I could use,” he said.

  Daemon raised an eyebrow. “And what is that?”

  “What do you buy a Sceltie for Winsol?”

  CHAPTER 30

  TERREILLE

  Theran fanned out the gold marks. Twenty ten-marks. He’d rarely seen gold marks. The silver marks were easier to come by when the rogues sold game to folks who couldn’t afford to buy meat from the butcher’s shop. Easier to come by and not as noticeable when spent. Usually only aristos—or the twisted Queens and their First Circles—had enough income to use gold marks.

  Talon had given him twenty ten-marks for his twentieth birthday—the first and only time he’d held that much spending money. It still felt like a fortune.

  After deducting the expenses for the town treasury and the Grayhaven estate, he figured he would have four hundred gold marks as an annual personal income from the town’s tithes. He’d need a few new clothes in the coming months and there would be the expense for the occasional evening’s entertainment, but he knew how to live lean. Hell’s fire, he’d been doing it his whole life. That’s why he had decided to give his Lady half of that income as a special surprise.

  Kermilla walked into the sitting room. “The bastard butler said you wanted to see me.”

  “He’s not a bastard, Kermilla,” Theran said. “You know it’s unkind to insult a man by saying he has no father.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Then let’s say it describes his temper and attitude if you don’t want to besmirch whatever bloodlines he can claim.” Then she saw the gold marks and her breath caught.

  He almost reconsidered what he was going to do, but maybe her recent bitchiness was a sign of frustration. There was little society in the town and less public entertainment that she felt was worthy of her notice.
And she seemed to find his efforts at lovemaking less and less enjoyable—so much so, he’d stopped asking for sex and decided to wait for her invitation.

  “What’s that?” she asked, eyeing the gold marks.

  He held them out. “This is for you.”

  She took the fanned marks and counted them twice. “Two hundred gold marks? Theran, where did you get this?”

  He shrugged and smiled, warmly pleased by the light in her eyes. “I know there hasn’t been much money and the income hasn’t arrived from your village’s tithes. Winsol starts in three days, and I thought you’d enjoy doing a bit of shopping.”

  She’d been hinting hard enough that the failure of her Steward to send the income owed to her was making it impossible for her to buy any gifts for her family or to select the expected gifts for her Steward, Master of the Guard, and Consort—or to buy anything for him.

  The gift itself wasn’t important. It was the fact that Kermilla wanted to give him one. He hadn’t had a gift from a woman since he’d left his mother when he was seven years old.

  “Oh, Theran!”

  Kermilla threw her arms around him and kissed him with enough heat to fire his blood. Before he could get another good taste of her, she backed away, wagging a finger at him while she smiled playfully.

  “That’s for later,” she said. “Now I have to see what’s left in the shops.”

  “Don’t spend it all in one place,” he said, trying to keep his voice light but hoping she heard the warning to spend carefully.

  “Silly man,” she said as she danced out of the parlor.

  A few minutes later, he looked out a window and saw her heading down the drive in the pony cart with one of the stable lads as her driver. He also saw a man in a messenger’s livery walking up the drive. Not a messenger from the town. One of them would have come on horseback. This man must have ridden the Winds and arrived at the landing web just beyond Grayhaven’s gates.

  He started to go to his study, then turned and headed for the front door. Any message coming here was most likely for him anyway. No point having Julien track him down when he could be on hand.