Eye of the Labyrinth

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Eye of the Labyrinth Page 50

by Jennifer Fallon


  Kirsh had been to her several times, but his visits had been quick, furtive and ultimately unsatisfying. Marqel found herself being critical of things that had always amused her in the past. Habits she thought were endearing suddenly irritated her.

  Dirk was right. Why settle for the boy when you could have the man?

  With growing excitement, Marqel looked forward to the day she would reveal her new gift to Antonov. She was sick of sneaking around. She wanted to be openly acknowledged as somebody important, somebody of substance. That was never going to happen while Kirsh was married to Alenor, she realized now. His father, on the other hand, was powerful enough that he could (and frequently did) flaunt any mistress he chose, and nobody dared say a word.

  Marqel was still smiling over the shining future ahead of her as she walked up the hall toward Dirk’s room. When she reached it, and noticed the absence of his ever-present guard, she cursed. It was not like him to miss their evening sessions, and they only had a few weeks left before Dirk judged the time was right to put their plan into action. She always thought of it as “their” plan, particularly since she had made a few modifications to suit herself.

  “Where is Lord Provin?” she asked a servant who was carrying a tray down the hall in the direction of Alenor’s room.

  “He’s with Prince Antonov, I think, my lady. The High Priestess just got back from the Hall of Shadows, and I know Prince Kirshov was called to meet him downstairs.”

  Marqel nodded and dismissed the girl with a wave of her hand, wondering what had forced such a meeting this late. Belagren split her time between the palace and the Hall of Shadows, but she had returned to the Hall only yesterday, with the intention of staying there for some time. Marqel had not expected her back so soon.

  That she was still excluded from such important meetings simply drove home the need to do something to change her status. Before too long, she promised herself, there won’t be an important decision made in Senet that I’m not a party to.

  Marqel headed back to her room, and then, on impulse, changed direction and headed downstairs to the kitchens. She would make a pot of peppermint tea, a habit she had gone to great pains to establish, so that nobody would work out that Marqel’s sudden craving for peppermint always coincided with somebody else dying.

  Besides, nothing traveled faster than a rumor, and whatever was going on in Prince Antonov’s study might well be the subject of discussion in the kitchens.

  Several pots of tea later, Marqel returned to her room, still none the wiser about what was going on in Antonov’s study. It had not been a wasted evening, though. She had been carefully cultivating the friendship of several assistant cooks, whose cooperation she would need the next time she wanted to prepare a pot of tea that was not quite as innocuous as the one she had shared with them this evening.

  Marqel was brushing out her long blond hair when a knock sounded at her door. She wondered if Kirsh had decided to risk coming to her, and debated feigning sleep. She didn’t want to see Kirsh. All he did was remind her of what she would soon have, which made his presence more irksome than welcome. But if it was Kirsh, she might find out what had happened to necessitate the return of the High Priestess.

  Putting down the brush, Marqel walked to the door, surprised to find not Kirshov, but one of Dirk’s guards standing outside.

  “The Lord of the Shadows wishes to see you, my lady,” he told her politely.

  “Now?”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  Marqel muttered a curse and turned for her shawl before following the guard back upstairs to the fourth floor. She was getting a little fed up with Dirk and his arrogant assumption that he could order her around like a bonded slave. She intended to tell him so, too.

  She never got a chance.

  “There’s been a change of plan,” Dirk informed her as soon as the guard closed the door behind her. “You’re going to have your visit from the Goddess tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow!” she gasped. “Why?”

  “The Baenlanders have kidnapped Misha from Tolace. If ever Antonov is going to believe that the Goddess is talking to you, and not Belagren, it is now, when you give him the information he needs to rescue his son.”

  Chapter 83

  Lexie, Porl Isingrin, Dal Falstov and Tia Veran gathered on the veranda of Johan’s house a little while after the second sun had set. Lexie had greeted her with a warm hug. Tia met her gaze evenly, and shrugged off her foster-mother’s embrace. Lexie knew her too well to be fooled, and there were things about this tale she was about to relate that she did not want anyone to know.

  “Should we wait for Reithan?” Tia asked.

  Porl shook his head. “I’ve got someone waiting for him down on the beach. He’ll be here soon. What happened?”

  Tia took a deep breath and told them.

  She told them about the long trek north, of Dirk’s comments in Tolace about surrendering, about his disappearance in Bollow. She told them of the Shadowdancers’ departure from Omaxin, and how Dirk had used Neris’s blincakes recipe to open the gate, which brought a smile to everyone’s face.

  She told them about the High Priestess’s arrival, and without so much as a tremble in her voice, how she had tried to kill Dirk, but had missed hitting anything vital. And then she told them of the trip back to Avacas, of Kirshov Latanya’s strange offer to let her escape, and of how she met up with Misha in Tolace.

  What she did not tell them was anything about eating mushrooms or that, for a short, blissfully happy and ultimately painful time, she had fancied herself in love with Dirk Provin.

  “How much damage can he actually do?” Porl asked when she had finished her tale.

  “A fair bit,” Dal suggested. “He went out with Reithan in the Wanderer a number of times. You had him on the Makuan, and he sailed on the Orlando twice. Even if he doesn’t know his way through the delta, he knows names, faces and, even worse, some of our contacts in the Brotherhood. The Goddess knows what they’ll do if they think we’ve crossed them.”

  “But we haven’t crossed them,” Tia objected. “Dirk has.”

  “The Brotherhood won’t see the distinction,” Porl warned.

  “Did he give any indication of his intentions, Tia?” Lexie asked. She had been shattered to hear about Dirk, and was still having trouble coming to terms with the fact that Johan’s son had betrayed them.

  Tia shook her head. “Not really. But then again, he did... sort of. He kept telling me that he’d written to the High Priestess, but I thought he was joking.”

  “He seemed so...sincere.”

  “Aye,” Porl agreed. “We should have listened to Tia. She never trusted him.”

  “Well, it’s too late now to punish ourselves over what might have been,” Dal reminded them. “What we need to do is decide how we’re going to deal with it.”

  “Where’s the little bastard now?” Porl snarled.

  “He’s in Avacas,” Reithan announced, walking onto the veranda. “He’s been awarded the title of Lord of the Shadows and has been appointed the right hand of the High Priestess.”

  “You were in Avacas?” Lexie gasped.

  Reithan nodded as he took the seat beside her. “I was in Kalarada when I heard that the High Priestess was heading for Omaxin, so I headed for Avacas. I was about to leave when I heard that Dirk had been captured. I stayed in Avacas looking for you, actually,” he told Tia. “The same day Dirk returned to the city, Alexin arrived with Alenor. I managed to arrange a meeting with him. It doesn’t look good.”

  “We were just trying to decide how much he can tell Antonov.”

  “A lot.”

  “How can we be sure about that?” Lexie asked, still hoping for the best.

  “Because he sent me a message, Mother, telling me he was going to tell Antonov anything he wanted to know.”

  They all stared at him.

  “He’s making no secret about what he has planned. He told Alexin to tell us we had about a month before he would
reveal the route through the delta, and if we were planning to evacuate Mil, then we should do it before then.”

  “Why, that arrogant little—” Porl began, too angry to finish the sentence.

  “But does he even know the route through the delta?” Tia asked hopefully. “I mean, it’s pretty tricky. It takes years to learn it.”

  “He knows,” Reithan assured them. “He’s as smart as Neris, and he grew up on an island surrounded by boats. Dirk’s a pretty competent sailor, actually. He probably had the route memorized the first time we brought him through.”

  “I can’t believe he fooled us all so completely,” Dal Falstov said with a shake of his head. “Except for young Tia, here, we all thought he could be trusted.”

  “I don’t think he deliberately came here with the intention of betraying us,” Lexie speculated.

  “Lexie!” Tia cried in disbelief. “What more does he have to do to convince you he’s a traitor?”

  “I’m not denying that he’s betrayed us, Tia. I’m simply saying that he didn’t have to warn us of his intentions. Nor did he have to wait.”

  “Maybe he’s simply bragging,” Porl suggested. “Gloating over the fact that he could bring us down. Maybe the sadistic little prick thinks it’ll be more fun if we have to sweat on it for a while.”

  “Does it matter?” Tia snapped. “Whatever his intentions, he’s turned on us.”

  “According to Alexin,” Reithan told them, “if he’s suffering any torment over what he’s done, he’s certainly not letting it show.”

  “How long do we have?” Dal asked.

  “I met with Alexin about two weeks ago and headed straight back here as soon I spoke to him. If we had a month then, we’ve only a couple of weeks now, before he tells, and another week or two for Antonov to get a fleet organized, and a couple more weeks after that for them to get here.”

  “So in six weeks we’re done for,” Tia concluded.

  “Six weeks is plenty of time,” Lexie assured them. “We can evacuate everyone safely long before then.”

  “To where, Lexie?” Tia demanded. “These people live here because they have nowhere else to go.”

  “Some of them will have families in Dhevyn who can shelter them. The rest will have to move inland. We can shelter in the caves for a time.”

  “A very short time,” Dal warned. “Tia’s right, my lady. Our options are very limited.”

  “They’re limited by only one thing,” Tia declared. “Dirk Provin.”

  “What are you suggesting?” Porl asked.

  “We kill him. Before he can betray us.”

  Her suggestion was met with a round of silent, considered looks. Only Lexie closed her eyes, as if the option was too painful to consider.

  “How?” Reithan shrugged. “He’s in the palace in Avacas. He’s guarded constantly. You won’t get near him.”

  “I can get near him,” she promised.

  “But can you kill him, Tia?” Dal asked thoughtfully. “Have you got it in you to make the killing stroke?”

  “Where Dirk Provin is concerned,” she told them with quiet certainty, “absolutely.”

  Lexie gave her a worried look, but said nothing.

  “If we leave today, we can get back to Avacas in about ten days,” Reithan calculated.

  “That’s cutting it awfully fine,” Porl warned. “If you don’t get there before he talks, killing Dirk Provin, no matter how satisfying it might be, becomes an unnecessary risk.”

  “Then ask the Brotherhood to do it,” Dal suggested. “We can contact them by bird today.” He laughed humorlessly. “I’d like to see that little bastard dodge a professional assassin.”

  “That will cost a fortune!” Lexie gasped.

  “If it saves Mil, it’ll be worth every dorn,” Dal replied.

  “Let’s do both,” Tia suggested. “Send them a message asking them to take out Dirk Provin if he’s still alive two weeks from now. In the meantime, Reithan and I can go back to Avacas and try to get to him ourselves. If we fail, then paying the Brotherhood to do it will be more than worth it.”

  “Aren’t you all forgetting that we have a bargaining chip, here?” Lexie asked.

  “You mean Prince Misha?”

  “Surely there’s room here for negotiating a settlement?”

  “What’s Misha Latanya got to do with this?” Reithan asked, a little confused.

  “Tia kidnapped him,” Dal told him, and then he turned back to the others. “The man’s been systematically poisoned over a long time. That’s not the sort of thing you do to a prince you have great future plans for.”

  Reithan stared at Tia in shock. “You kidnapped Misha Latanya?” he hissed as Dal was speaking.

  “Sort of...”

  “And even if he was the Lion of Senet’s favorite son,” Dal continued, “Antonov will still not deal with us. He’d rather see his son die, I suspect, than negotiate with his enemies.”

  “And suppose we stop Antonov this time?” Porl added. “It doesn’t solve the problem of Dirk Provin knowing the way through the delta, and being at liberty to divulge the information any time the mood takes him.”

  “We should contact the Brotherhood,” Lexie decided sadly. “It will be expensive, but I’d rather pay them than risk any more lives in Avacas, when they could be more use here, helping to evacuate the settlement.”

  Tia stared at her, quite disappointed that she was to be robbed of her chance at vengeance. “I could do it, Lexie,” she insisted. “I could kill him.”

  “I know you could, Tia,” Lexie replied. “That’s what worries me.”

  Chapter 84

  The news about Dirk Provin betraying the Baenlanders was all over the Orlando, even before the ship docked in Mil. Eryk learned of it from his shipmates and promptly got into a fistfight with Owen Hantze, the carpenter’s apprentice, when he tried to defend his former master. He had denied the accusation vehemently, certain Dirk would never do such a thing, but the rumors would not go away, no matter how many fights Eryk got into.

  What made it even worse was that it appeared to be Tia who was the source of the rumors. Eryk could not believe that she would spread such horrible gossip about Dirk, so he decided to confront her himself and find out if it was true. If she admitted to being the guilty party, he intended to make her take back the dreadful things she was saying about him. That way, the world would be back to the way it should be, and all this frightening stuff about Dirk being a traitor would go away.

  When he finally climbed out of the longboat and stepped onto the black sand of Mil, he looked up at the tall stilted house overlooking the bay, wondering if Tia was up there still. He could see a number of figures gathered on the veranda, but could not make out exactly who they were.

  “Hey!” Grigor snapped at him, noticing the direction of his gaze. “Don’t even think about it, lad.”

  Eryk looked at the mate in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “You know you’re not allowed up near Johan’s house anymore.”

  “But I don’t want to see Mellie. I want to speak to Tia!” Actually, that was not quite true. Eryk would have given his right leg to see Mellie again, but he knew how foolish it would be to attempt it. Everyone in Mil was fiercely protective of Johan’s daughter, as Eryk had discovered to his peril when he had tried to kiss her.

  “Why didn’t you speak to her while she was on board the Orlando,” Grigor asked, “instead of waiting until we landed and you had an excuse to go up to the house?”

  “I never got a chance!” he protested. “Please, thir...I mean, sir, it’s really, really important.”

  Grigor stared at him for a moment, as if debating how sincere he was, and then he nodded. “I’ll see she gets a message that you want to see her, lad. That’s the best I can do. But if I catch you within a half-mile of Johan’s house, I’ll skin you alive myself. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir! Thank you.”

  Grigor stalked off toward the village, leaving Eryk st
aring up at the house, wondering if Tia was up there, even now, spreading her dreadful lies about Dirk.

  It was much later that evening before Tia appeared at the entrance to the longhouse. The village women were still sorting through the haul off the Makuan, although there had been little from the Orlando to add to the pile. Usually, they were away for much longer, and did not head home until the ship was full of contraband, lifted mostly from the holds of the Senetian traders who plied the shipping lanes between Dhevyn and Senet near the treacherous rocks off Daven Isle.

  Assuming Tia had come to see him, Eryk ran to the door. “You got my message!”

  Tia had been glancing around the longhouse, looking for someone. She seemed a little surprised that Eryk had accosted her.

  “What message?”

  “The one Grigor gave you. The one that said I had to see you.”

  Not finding whoever she was looking for, Tia turned her full attention to Eryk.

  “Why did you want to see me?”

  “You have to thop...I mean...stop saying those things about Lord Dirk, Tia. Everyone thinks he’s really bad now, and if you would only tell them what really happened...”

  His voice trailed off as Tia’s expression darkened. “I’ve not said a word about Dirk that isn’t true, Eryk.”

  He shook his head, determined not to believe it. “It can’t be...”

  Tia suddenly seemed to take pity on him. “Come outside, Eryk. I think you and I need to talk.”

  Eryk followed Tia out onto the veranda, and then took a seat beside her on the top step of the longhouse. She had an odd look on her face, almost as if she was hurt, but he could see no sign of injury on her.

  “Eryk, Dirk has gone back to Avacas,” she explained slowly, to make certain he understood. “He wasn’t captured, or tortured, or made to do it by anyone else. He wrote to the High Priestess and asked if he could join the Shadowdancers.”

  “But you were going to help him rescue Lady Morna! And when you couldn’t, you saved Master Helgin and then you went to Tolace. You were his friend, Tia! What did you do?”

 

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