The Shadow's heir trs-1

by K J Taylor

  “She has been punished-”

  “I know,” Laela growled. “Punished how?”

  Telise looked nervous. “Punished fittingly, my lady.”

  “Where is she, then? You said she’d been sent away. Where to?”

  “I don’t know, my lady.”

  “Then who would know?”

  “Master Zel, my lady. He is master of the slaves who serve here.”

  “Right.” Laela stood up. “I want t’see him. Now.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  Oeka appeared, bright-eyed, with her tail twitching. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m gonna go find out what happened to Inva,” said Laela.

  “Why does it matter? Why are you not seeing the Emperor?”

  “He ain’t available right now,” said Laela. “Anyway, I wanna find out what happened to Inva-see if I can help.”

  Oeka fell in beside her as she left the rooms. “Why would you want to help?”

  “Because I’m the one who got her in trouble,” said Laela. “They blamed her for what happened to me. She wasn’t even there!”

  “What do you care?” said Oeka.

  Laela had expected something exactly like this. “Because I’m human, an’ I don’t just care about myself.”

  “You would be wiser if you did,” said Oeka. “No-one else will care for you as much as you yourself.”

  “See, this is why griffins ain’t ruling the world,” said Laela. She grinned. “C’mon, yeh selfish goose. Let’s go do some altruism.”

  “I do not know that word,” Oeka said primly.

  “Me neither,” said Laela. “I just copied it off someone. Hurry up, Telise! We can walk faster than this, y’know.”

  “Apologies,” Telise said smartly, and hurried off down the corridor.

  They had to leave the neat quietness of the guest quarters and move on into a noisier, busier part of the palace that griffiners probably weren’t meant to see. What Laela did see, along with that, were slaves-far more of them than she had seen before. Some Northerners, some Amorani, some from Maijan, some belonging to races she had never seen before, but all of them shaven and collared, and all of them hard at work. She passed a big long room where dozens of slaves were busy washing clothes and linen, and caught a glimpse of a massive kitchen where dozens more were preparing meals and washing pots and plates. To her surprise, aside from the occasional patrolling guard, she didn’t see anyone who looked like a supervisor watching over them. But the slaves worked industriously anyway, as if they had nothing else to do but the jobs that earned them no pay, and no respect.

  And that was exactly how it was, of course.

  Eventually, Telise guided them through all this and into a slightly quieter area, where a smaller group of slaves were busy stripping the petals off flowers and putting them in bowls. Telise weaved her way through them and stopped by one man who didn’t seem to be doing anything. He was Amorani, and the stubble on his head was grey, which was just about the only hint to his age.

  As Laela and Oeka caught up with their guide, the man turned to them and bowed briefly. “Sacred griffin, I am blessed to see you and your human.”

  Oeka had been enjoying this sort of treatment long enough that she didn’t react much to it now. “Why do you speak to me, slave?” she rasped.

  The man bowed again, more respectfully this time. “I have just been told that your human wished to speak with me, Sacred One. Am I mistaken?”

  “Not if you are Master Zel.”

  “I am,” said the man, eyes flicking briefly toward Laela.

  “Let her speak with you, then,” Oeka said, bored, and settled down to groom.

  Laela took her cue. “Master Zel, is it? I’m Lady Laela.”

  Zel inclined his head toward her. “I am honoured to meet you, Lady Laela,” he said, in polished Cymrian. “How can I serve you?”

  “I’m looking for someone,” said Laela. “A slave called Inva. She was my attendant before Telise.”

  “I know that name,” said Zel. “And I offer you my greatest apology and shame that I sent her to you. I hope that Telise is a better attendant for you.”

  Laela hadn’t missed Telise’s anxious looks toward her. “She’s doin’ a great job,” she said kindly. “But I wanted to know where Inva’s gone.”

  “She has been sent away,” Zel said at once.

  “I know,” said Laela. “But to where?”

  “To the slave market, to be sold to a new master. She will not be allowed to serve nobles again.”

  Laela groaned inwardly. “Look-Zel-that ai-isn’t right. She shouldn’t have been sent away.”

  “Why not?” Zel looked very politely disapproving. “She allowed her master to be placed in danger and was punished for her negligence.”

  “It wasn’t her fault,” said Laela. “She only did what I told her.”

  “That does not matter,” said Zel. “She did not obey the command given to her to keep you from danger at all costs, and this lapse is punishable.”

  The sheer injustice of it infuriated Laela. She opened her mouth to retort but quickly shut it again as common sense caught up with her. She wasn’t going to get anywhere arguing with this man, and besides, there was no reason why she should be arguing with him at all. He was her inferior, and she had learned that you didn’t argue with inferiors. Instead, you just ordered them to agree with you.

  “Bring her back,” she said.

  “I cannot do that,” said Zel, but cautiously.

  “Bring her back,” Laela repeated.

  “She cannot be brought back.”

  “All right, then,” said Laela, changing tack. “How about I tell the Emperor that you ain’t doin’ your job? I’m his guest, an’ it’s your job t’keep me happy. If I say bringin’ Inva back would make me happy, then you have t’do it. Otherwise, I’ll be unhappy. An’ when I get unhappy, I get nasty. An’ when I get nasty, I make people’s lives hard. Are yeh startin’ to get what I mean, Zel?”

  If the head slave was affronted by this not-so-subtle threat-the kind of threat Laela was best at-he didn’t show it. “Very well then,” he said in flat tones. “I will send out for her to be brought back at once. Shall I have her brought to you once she has returned?”

  “Yes,” said Laela. “An’ make it fast,” she added nastily. “I want her back by tonight.”

  “It shall be done,” said Zel, and there was something about him and the way he said it that made Laela completely confident that he would and could do just that.

  “I must be the worst guest this palace has ever had.” She smirked to herself as she left. But there was real satisfaction mixed in with her smugness. She only hoped her next meeting with the Emperor would go as well.

  While she waited for the afternoon to arrive, she made several other visits. First she checked in with the other Northern griffiners, making sure they were all well and assuring them that she had placated the Emperor and was due to see him again soon.

  She also visited the docks where the Seabreath was still moored, to see how Arenadd was doing. She found him unchanged, still comatose, but breathing steadily. Skandar was with him, patiently guarding his human. Evidently, he had finished enjoying Amoran’s various pleasures. His partner was more important.

  “Don’t worry,” Laela told him. “We’re goin’ home soon, an’ he’ll get well. Just look after him. I never saw a griffin who took better care of his human.” She didn’t say that last part just to flatter him, and he seemed pleased even if he didn’t say anything.

  “When are we going home?” asked Penllyn.

  “Soon,” said Laela. “I’m just about done talkin’ to the Emperor. We’ll be leavin’ in a matter of days.”

  “We’d better,” Duach muttered.

  Laela took one last look at Arenadd’s deathly pale face. “We will.”

  The meeting with the Emperor finally arrived. This time he received Laela in an elegant room that must have been his official audience chamber
. Vander was there, with Ymazu, and Zaehri, the griffins sitting on velvet floor-pads obviously made just for them.

  Once the formalities were over, Laela sat on a couch opposite the Emperor while Oeka chose a pad of her own and lay on it, with her front paws outstretched.

  “Lady Laela,” the Emperor began. “May I ask how your King is faring?” Off to the side and behind his ruler, Vander listened closely.

  “Unchanged, Sacred Ruler,” said Laela.

  The Emperor looked a little sad. “That is not good. Have you made a decision yet, Lady Laela?”

  “I’m in the process,” said Laela. “But I wanted t’ask a question, if yeh don’t mind, Sacred Ruler.”

  He smiled. “Ask.”

  Laela took a deep breath, and leaned forward. “This marriage that we need has t’be between a Taranisaii an’ one of yer own family, yes?”

  “Yes,” the Emperor said firmly.

  “Then I wanted t’ask,” said Laela, choosing her words carefully, “can the Taranisaii be any Taranisaii?”

  “As long as he or she is one of the King’s family,” said the Emperor.

  Sheer nervousness made Laela dizzy. “Is. . does. . does the person have t’be. . er. . legitimate?”

  The Emperor frowned. “I do not know that word, my Lady.”

  Laela hesitated, gave up, and plunged ahead. It was now or never. “Can the Taranisaii be a bastard?”

  There was a pause.

  Then the Emperor smiled, a big, white-toothed smile. “Ah. You wonder if you, beautiful lady, can take your father’s place and marry one of my family.”

  Laela gaped. “Er-”

  “Your loyalty to your father is impressive,” the Emperor went on. “But it is not so surprising. He has been very kind, and taken good care of you. I suppose it is only natural if he has no legitimate children to call his own.”

  “Er, thanks,” said Laela. This was just about the last thing she had expected.

  “The King often spoke of you,” said the Emperor, still smiling. “I could see how much pride he takes in you. And how much he loves you. It did my heart good.”

  Laela couldn’t believe this. The Emperor was actually spinning her lie for her, deceiving himself without any help at all. She couldn’t think of anything to say.

  “But I must answer your question,” said the Emperor, interrupting her thoughts. “The answer is yes. If no other Taranisaii is available, you will be suitable despite being born outside of marriage. We are lucky as well-my youngest son is here in Instabahn, and he is very obedient to his father. He will be glad to do his duty to his country.”

  “That’s. . good.” Laela swallowed. “If. . er. . if I married him, would-would I have to stay here?”

  “No, no,” said the Emperor. “The marriage would be purely ceremonial. Symbolic only. You will not have to live together unless you choose to.”

  “Oh.” At that, Laela relaxed completely.

  “In fact, it is better if you live in your own countries,” the Emperor remarked. “That way you will link our two great nations, as two ends of a chain hold a ship to a shore.” He gave her an intelligent, bright-eyed look. “This arrangement is satisfactory to me. Does it satisfy you as well, Lady Laela Taranisaii?”

  Laela glanced at Vander, and at Oeka. She was unreadable, and he looked ever so slightly pleased. “Yeah,” she said at last. “I mean, yes. I’ll do it.”

  Laela was committed to her dangerous game now, and she prepared to play it all the way to the end. Once she and the Emperor had made their agreement, she went to see the other Northerners and bluntly told them that the alliance was settled and she herself would be getting married in Arenadd’s place.

  Most of them looked surprised, and some, Duach in particular, were impressed.

  “I don’t believe it,” he said. “How? How did ye talk him into it?”

  Laela shrugged. “It didn’t have t’be the King. The Emperor was willin’ to accept an alternative.”

  “Why ye, though?” said Duach. “Why not one of us?” Despite the objection, he didn’t sound offended.

  Laela fidgeted-now came the tough part. “Er. . well, it’s ’cause. . I’m kind of a. . in the right place.”

  Duach put his head on one side. “What place is that, then?”

  “The Emperor wanted a Taranisaii,” said Laela. “Any Taranisaii.” That at least was true. “I asked what about me, an’. . well, he said yes.” There. She hadn’t lied.

  Duach’s expression cleared, and he cackled. “Hah! Knew it. Yer a real chip off the old block, aren’t ye?”

  Laela smiled sadly. “Looks like it.”

  “He’s happy with a bastard, then?” Duach asked, quite bluntly.

  “So he says.” Laela glared.

  “Good!” said Duach. “That’s perfect. When’s the wedding?”

  “Tomorrow at noon, but I want you an’ Penllyn t’stay here. I ain’t takin’ a risk.”

  “Of course.” Duach smiled knowingly at her. “None of us would, and especially not ye of all people.” He looked serious. “I’ve been unkind to ye, but I know ye well enough to know that nobody’s more loyal to the King than yerself.”

  Unexpected shame took hold of her. “Thanks,” she mumbled, and left, unable to make herself stay any longer.

  When she got back to her rooms, she found herself greeted by two people. One was Telise, and the other was none other than Inva. She looked tired and worn, and there were bruises showing on her face and arms, but when she saw Laela, she all but ran to her. All her former reserve gone, she just about threw herself down at Laela’s feet and stayed there, pressing her forehead into the ground.

  “Inva!” Laela gaped, and then grinned. “C’mon, get up. Nobody kneels to a half-breed!”

  Inva got up at once, looking slightly embarrassed, but she still bowed her head. “Thank you,” she said, hands clasped in front of her. “Thank you a hundred times. Xanathus bless you for what you have done.”

  “Hey.” Laela reached out and touched her on the shoulder. “It’s all right.”

  Telise gasped in horror. Laela ignored her.

  Inva looked up, clearly bewildered. “You. . you saved me. I don’t understand. What did I do. .?”

  “You were innocent,” said Laela. “I got yeh into trouble, so don’t thank me. I just made up for what I did wrong.”

  “But I allowed you to go into danger,” said Inva, looking horrified. “You nearly died, and I did nothing to stop it.”

  “Are yeh daft?” Laela exclaimed. “What happened happened in the Temple, an’ you weren’t allowed in-yeh told me so yerself!”

  “But it was my responsibility to guide you and make certain that you were well cared for,” said Inva.

  “An’ yeh did a great job,” said Laela. “Honestly. I ain’t never been looked after so well. Now stop arguin’. You’re safe again, an’ we’ve got a weddin’ to get ready for.”

  Inva hesitated, and then, for the first time since Laela had met her, she smiled. “Of course, my lady. I will be happy to help.”

  27

  Sun Wedding

  On the night before her wedding, Laela went to visit Arenadd one last time.

  He was still comatose, still pale and ghastly with sweat, and the bandage wrapped around his chest was still stained with blood. His breathing was so slight she could scarcely see it. He looked like a man on his death-bed. Worse, he looked like a man who was already dead. The grey in his hair looked even more pronounced than before.

  Laela reached down to touch his forehead and pulled her hand away. He was burning hot. He’d never felt like that before. She had touched him plenty of times when he was well, and he had always been cold. For him, coldness was a sign of health. . or strength, at least.

  She sighed and sank into a chair by his bedside. “What am I gonna do with you?”

  The question went far deeper than it seemed. What was she going to do?

  Since the incident in the Temple, she had pushed the vision she
had had out of her head. There had been too much to do, too many other things to worry about. But now she let herself think it over, reliving it in her head as well as she could.

  Had it been real? Had she really seen what she had thought, or was it just a hallucination that had nearly killed her?

  But she already knew the truth. The vision had been real; it had to be. With it and her dream, she had now seen Gryphus twice, and both times it had felt completely real. Both times he had told her things she couldn’t possibly have known. And if the dream had been vivid, the vision in the Temple had been twice as real. She could have imagined Bran easily, but she couldn’t have imagined her mother. Not like that, not so perfectly that the woman she saw looked like her.

  And the other thing she couldn’t ignore was that she had seen Gryphus at two different times and in two different ways, but that both times he had told her almost exactly the same thing: that she was the Risen Sun, and she had the power to. . to. .

  “To kill you,” she whispered, eyes turning to Arenadd, lying there helpless.

  She stared at him, watching his chest rise and fall ever so slightly, and tried to make herself accept what she knew must be the truth: that he had killed her mother and all the rest of her family as well.

  It was easy enough to believe. They had been Southerners, and who else was he most famous for killing? She had seen him kill now, and she had begun to understand what he was capable of.

  She remembered the ghosts, and the wounds that had been on them. Their throats had been slit, cut clear across by something very sharp. Identical wounds to those she had seen on the pirates. Wounds that fitted the blade of Arenadd’s cherished sickle-the same one he had used in all their lessons when he had taught her how to fight.

  Laela felt sick. Arenadd Taranisaii, her best friend, the one she had trusted her whole life to, the one she was doing everything for, the one she had hugged and sympathised with. . Arenadd Taranisaii had murdered her entire family. He had made her an orphan and stolen the life she could have had forever. He had nearly killed her, while she was in the cradle.