Shalador's Lady

by Bishop, Anne

  “I can tell you that,” Saetan said. “You’ve been fighting for honor and to protect what you cherish.”

  “I failed him.” Talon shook his head. “Theran doing this means I failed him.”

  “You don’t know that. Until he steps up to the line and makes the choice to start a war, you don’t know that. And if there is enough of Jared in him, he may surprise you.”

  “I served a Queen before I turned rogue. She was the reason I turned rogue. I never felt the pull with her that I feel with Cassie. I don’t think I could turn away from Cassie, no matter what she did at this point.”

  “That bond can wane or break, like any other kind of love,” Saetan said. Having faced the possibility of killing a son in order to save his Queen, he knew what Talon was feeling, but there wasn’t much comfort he, or anyone else, could give this man.

  “It’s too late in the morning for you to be traveling back to Dena Nehele,” Saetan said. “I’ll show you to a guest room where you can rest until sunset.”

  KAELEER

  A simple message was sent from the High Lord of Hell to Lord Khardeen, Lady Sabrina, and Prince Daemon Sadi. It said:

  Dena Nehele has broken. Shalador Nehele rises with Cassidy as its Queen. May the Darkness have mercy on them.

  TERREILLE

  Theran read the document a second time, then stared at the man who had raised him and loved him—and was now an enemy.

  “Why?” He tossed the document on his desk. “Hell’s fire, Talon, why? ”

  “It’s clear enough,” Talon replied.

  “It’s not clear,” Theran snapped. “Nothing is clear. You broke Dena Nehele. You broke the land that survived generations of twisted Queens and Dorothea SaDiablo’s hatred for the sake of a bitch who should be leaving instead of trying to take control.”

  “I could say the same about you. And that’s the last time you get to call my Queen a bitch without blood being shed.”

  Sick, scared, and furious, Theran clenched his teeth to avoid saying anything more. Talon would shed blood. Even his.

  “You can’t do this. She took a third of the Territory.”

  “Cassidy didn’t take anything. The Provinces were free to make their choice.”

  “And what price would they pay if they didn’t make the choice Lady Cassidy wanted?” Theran asked bitterly.

  “You’re trying to dress Cassidy in another woman’s temper,” Talon said.

  “You’re asking questions that don’t fit her as a woman or a Queen, so maybe you’re really wondering about someone else.”

  Theran rocked back on his heels, not sure how to answer that—and sure he didn’t want to answer that. “Talon, breaking Dena Nehele isn’t the answer.”

  “Is Cassidy going to be the Queen of Dena Nehele two months from now?”

  “No, she is not!”

  “Then this is the only answer that gives both sides a choice besides war.”

  “Choice.” The word hooked its claws into him and left his heart bleeding. “You call this a choice? Kermilla will never accept this.”

  “She isn’t the Queen yet.”

  “She’s going to be.”

  “But she isn’t the Queen yet. And I guess, right now, that makes you the unofficial ruler of Dena Nehele. So it’s up to you to accept this.”

  Theran staggered back a step. No Queen. No female hand to guide them once it became known that Cassidy had turned away from the Provinces north of the Heartsblood River.

  No Queen again. At least, not until Kermilla formed a court.

  “I guess I’m no longer part of Cassidy’s court,” Theran said.

  “You don’t serve the Queen of Shalador Nehele, so, no, you’re no longer part of the court.”

  So much sadness in Talon’s eyes.

  “Talon . . . are you really going to stand against me?”

  “Let us go, Theran. We don’t want a war, but if you send men against us or our Queen, we will fight. And I tell you now, boy, if we meet on a killing field I will do everything I can to destroy you.”

  Theran’s eyes stung. He blinked away the tears. “That’s it then.”

  “Yes, that’s it.” Talon walked to the study door and opened it. He stopped and looked over his shoulder. “May the Darkness embrace you, Theran.”

  Theran said nothing until Talon left the room. Then he whispered, “And you, Talon. And you.”

  Kermilla tapped on the study door and swallowed her resentment—again—about being locked out of Theran’s study. That would change once she was the Queen. Yes, that would certainly change. But for now, she couldn’t demand to know what had happened between Theran and that awful Prince Talon. Just looking at the man’s maimed hand and the way he walked because of the missing part of his right foot made her shudder. At least she wouldn’t have to consider him for her court, no matter how Theran felt about him.

  She knocked on the door, louder this time. And this time it opened.

  When she walked in, Theran was pacing, the restless movement of a man incapable of remaining still. And the look on his face . . .

  “What happened?” she asked. “Did something happen to your cousin?” Not that she cared a finger snap about Gray since he’d been so rude to her, but Theran did care, so it was appropriate to show concern.

  “He’s lost his mind, that’s what happened,” Theran snapped. “With help, I’m sure, from that Shalador bastard Ranon.”

  That didn’t tell her anything. “Theran . . .”

  He strode to his desk, grabbed a document, and thrust it into her hands.

  She read—and felt a fury rise in her unlike anything she had felt before. “That bitch! She’s taken whole Provinces?”

  “Everything south of the Heartsblood River is now ruled by Lady Cassidy, Queen of Shalador Nehele,” Theran said bitterly. “A third of Dena Nehele is gone because of a piece of paper!”

  “No! Get them back. Theran, you have to get those Provinces back!” A third of Dena Nehele? A third of the income that should be hers? Unthinkable! “You can’t let her do this to us. To the land and the people who need our guidance,” she amended when she noticed the uncertainty in his eyes.

  “Well, they don’t think they need anything from us.” Theran resumed his pacing.

  “You have to stop this!” Kermilla sank into a chair. That bitch. Should have known better than to offer anything. She’d been willing to let Freckledy rule the Shalador reserves, hadn’t she? Wasn’t much there worth having anyway, but it had been a way to show how generous she could be by letting the Queen who had been dismissed remain in her little village and be useful. Of course Cassidy, being a fine draft horse of a Queen, was useful.

  But no. The bitch got greedy and stole Provinces that should have been hers. And that was something she couldn’t allow.

  That strange fury washed through her again. “You have to do something, Prince Grayhaven.”

  He gave her an odd look—more appreciative of this show of temper than wary of it.

  Finally he stopped pacing, rubbed his hands over his face, and sighed. “There’s nothing I can do, Kermilla. A copy of that document is already at the Keep. There is no way to deny it exists. They did this behind my back, not even giving me the chance to challenge the decision, but it’s done now.”

  “Then change it,” Kermilla said.

  “How? War? Do you know what another war would do to us right now?” He shook his head. “That’s not a consideration. I doubt there is a Warlord Prince on this side of the Heartsblood River who would be willing to step onto a killing field against Ranon or Talon . . . or Jared Blaed.”

  “So you’re going to give up a third of Dena Nehele to Cassidy?” Kermilla stared at him in disbelief. How could he give up her land so easily?

  “I told you, it’s already done.” Retrieving the document, which she’d dropped beside her chair, Theran set it on his desk. “No point chewing on a battle that’s already been fought and lost. Not when we have to move fast to meet the next ch
allenge.”

  “And what would that be?” She was too upset to try her sexy pout or any other maneuver on him.

  Another odd look. “Convincing eleven other men to stand with me and form your court.”

  Why is that a challenge?

  Before she could ask him, there was a quick knock followed by the bell that signaled that dinner was ready to be served.

  Theran opened the study door and looked at her. “Shall we go?”

  Wasn’t really a question, so she walked out of the room—and swallowed the resentment that bubbled up again when he put a Green lock on the door.

  She needed to form a court, and she couldn’t do it without his help. But once she did, there would be more than one change in Dena Nehele.

  CHAPTER 41

  TERREILLE

  Within three days, most of the people in Dena Nehele, Blood and landen alike, had heard some version of the news that Lady Cassidy had formed a new Territory out of the Shalador reserves and Dena Nehele’s five southern Provinces.

  According to the Warlord Princes in the southern Provinces, Lady Cassidy had stepped up to the line Theran Grayhaven had drawn and showed her courage by forming a new Territory that would live by the Old Ways of the Blood instead of allowing herself to be forced out by the unscrupulous Queen who was Theran’s lover.

  According to the Warlord Princes in the northernmost Provinces, Lady Cassidy had abandoned them without a second thought, splitting a land that had survived the landen uprisings as well as generations of Dorothea SaDiablo’s machinations.

  The Warlord Princes who lived in the Province on the other side of the Heartsblood River—and could wave to the guards now keeping watch along the northern border of Shalador Nehele—said nothing.

  Four days after Shalador Nehele came into being, most of the Warlord Princes who lived north of the Heartsblood River gathered at the Grayhaven estate.

  Most, but not all, Theran thought as uneasiness soured his belly. Ferall hadn’t come, and because Kermilla had burned the one letter Ferall had sent to him weeks ago, Theran didn’t know if there was something he could have done to convince the Opal-Jeweled Warlord Prince that he knew what was best for the people and the land.

  He walked up the steps to the platform and faced the men. Less than a year ago, Cassidy had stood in this same room and selected the men who became her First Circle. Every man who was here now had been in the room that day—and they remembered. He saw it in their eyes.

  Using Craft to enhance his voice, he said, “By now, you’ve probably all heard that Lady Cassidy enticed the Warlord Princes in the five southern Provinces to abandon Dena Nehele and form a new Territory. She did this because her contract to rule as the Territory Queen would have ended in two months and was not going to be renewed.”

  “Why not?” someone in the back of the room asked. “From what I hear, her court is standing strong and there have been no complaints about the Lady herself.”

  “I haven’t heard any complaints either,” someone else said. “Quite the contrary.”

  “Cassidy did an adequate job of starting us on the right path,” Theran said, “but another Lady more suited to Dena Nehele is ready to stand as our Queen.”

  “Who is this Lady?” Hikaeda asked.

  Hikaeda and Elendill came from the Province that bordered the Heartsblood River and would, no doubt, be reporting back to Ferall and the other Warlord Princes who had settled there.

  “Lady Kermilla, who is also from Dharo in the Realm of Kaeleer,” Theran replied.

  Silence.

  Hikaeda looked at his friend Elendill, then back at Theran. “What is it you want from us, Prince?”

  “Lady Kermilla held back from forming a court here out of courtesy for Lady Cassidy, allowing Cassidy to finish her rule here uncontested. Because of that courtesy, Dena Nehele is left without a Queen or a ruling court. Our situation is a little better than it was a year ago, but the need for a Queen to rule our land remains. What I’m asking of you, Hikaeda, is the same thing I asked a year ago—that all of you offer yourselves for the Queen’s consideration, and if chosen, serve in her First Circle.”

  “And Kermilla is the Queen you intend to have rule over us?” Hikaeda asked.

  How many times was he going to have to say it? “Yes, because Kermilla is the right Queen for us.”

  Another silence.

  “Thank you for your words, Theran,” Hikaeda said politely. “Elendill and I will return to our Province and convey your message to the District Queens and the Warlord Princes who were unable to answer your summons. I am certain you will not wait long for an answer.”

  What in the name of Hell did that mean?

  Hikaeda and Elendill turned away from the platform and headed for the door. The other Warlord Princes turned and followed, not even glancing at him to confirm that this meeting was over.

  He wanted to call them back, wanted to demand some kind of answer. But there was nothing he could say to them right now—and apparently, there was nothing they wanted to say to him.

  CHAPTER 42

  TERREILLE

  “Library, library, library.” Ranon set those three letters on the stack marked for Gray to handle. Only a week had passed since the official creation of Shalador Nehele, and the mail coming in for Queen and court had tripled.

  The day had turned cold and snowy, with a wind that cut like a mean-tempered bitch. Cassie was tucked in for the afternoon and he was the escort on duty, so he’d offered to sort the mail since Powell had more than enough to do right now. It wasn’t a job he enjoyed, but he didn’t mind it either, and doing something productive for the court made him feel less guilty about being warm and comfortable today while other members of the First Circle were out in that white misery fulfilling their own assignments.

  “Request for a loan to repair a printing press and open a print shop and bookbindery.” He frowned at that letter for a moment, then put it in Gray’s stack. “Request for lessons with the Protocol instructors. Well, Gray can deal with that too.”

  Then he hesitated and wondered if they were dumping too much on Gray, especially since he was the First Escort and his first priority was taking care of the Queen.

  “We really need a Second Circle to assist the First Circle,” he muttered. The problem was paying a Second Circle, although Powell had hinted they could afford to bring in a few more people to work for the court. Well, for the time being, they would do the best they could with what they had.

  Could a Sceltie learn to sort mail?

  While he pondered what the dogs might be able to do with the reading skills they had, Dryden tapped on the door and said, “Prince Ferall is asking to see you.”

  “Me?” When Dryden nodded, Ranon set the unsorted letters at one end of the big meeting table. Nothing really confidential in the stacks he’d sorted so far, but he used Craft to make a layer of witchlight over the papers, effectively preventing anyone from reading them. “Send him in.”

  Ferall entered the room, still wearing his heavy winter coat and a shapeless hat.

  He didn’t sense any shields around the man, but Ranon instinctively put a skintight Opal shield around himself under his clothing, just in case. A warrior like Ferall usually held on to his outer gear when he figured he’d have to leave in a hurry—and that usually meant after splattering the walls with blood.

  He smiled and took a step forward as if he didn’t see the fury in the other man’s eyes.

  Then Ferall grabbed two fistfuls of Ranon’s shirt and slammed his back against the wall.

  “You self-serving son of a whoring bitch,” Ferall snarled. “Got what you wanted so you just let the rest of us flounder, is that it?”

  Clamping his hands around Ferall’s wrists to prevent a grab for his throat, Ranon snarled back, “What in the name of Hell are you talking about?”

  “You. This.” Ferall shook him. “Didn’t we work hard enough, try hard enough? Couldn’t you give us a chance before you cut us loose? I almost ha
d a life. Damn you to the bowels of Hell, Ranon, I almost had a life! A widow with two young children, a boy and a girl. Lost her husband to one of those twisted bitches a few years back. Had the courage to let me into her life and into her bed. Let me be around her children. You know what that means, Ranon. You know.”

  Yes, he knew. And he understood now about those special gifts Ferall had purchased for Winsol.

  Ferall leaned in, and despite the shield, Ranon could feel his chest muscles bruising under the pressure of the other man’s fists.

  “I never had much of a home when I was young, and nothing you could call a home since I was fifteen. Do you know what it feels like to settle into a place and not have everyone look at you with fear in their eyes because they’ve gotten used to you, gotten used to the idea that you’re there to protect them as well as be an instrument of the Queen’s will? Do you know what it feels like to be with a woman who cares about you? To have a boy waiting to see you at the end of the day to play a game of toss before dinner or have a little girl snuggle up next to you wanting you to read her a story? Do you?”

  “I know,” Ranon said quietly. And he did know about that particular dream. He was hoping to have those same things with Shira someday.

  “Then why?” Ferall pressed him harder into the wall. “You bastard! Tell me why!”

  “Let him go.”

  For a moment, Ranon wondered why Vae’s snarled words sounded so strange. Then he looked toward the door and thought, Oh, shit.

  Cassie stood there, her red hair flowing down her back and her feet planted in a fighting stance. One hand held that club she’d used to defend James Weaver and his family back in Grayhaven. Vae stood beside her.

  Both witches snarled at Ferall.

  Pushing away from Ranon—and giving him a last knock into the wall in the process—Ferall took a step toward Cassidy, measured the wild look in her eyes, and took a step back.

  “Why didn’t you give us a chance to prove ourselves before cutting us loose like that?” Ferall asked, his voice ringing with frustration and lost hope.