Shadowcaster

by Cinda Williams Chima

  Her smile faded. “Maybe we should go see what’s happened.” She picked up her jacket and shrugged into it, smoothing her hair with both hands.

  Matelon straightened his shirt, following with his uniform jacket. It was in bad shape, torn in places and stained with blood and dirt. He’d attempted to rinse out the stains, and he’d done his best to darn the rips with his careful stitches, but it wasn’t much of an improvement. At home, he would have replaced it long ago.

  She studied him critically as they walked toward the crowd. “Your jacket looks like it’s seen hard use. We could probably get you something else to wear.”

  “This serves,” he said gruffly. “It helps me remember who I am.”

  In the entry of the manor house stood a slender, dark-haired woman dressed in traveling garb—wool trousers, a heavy wool coat, and boots. Next to her stood a tall, weathered bluejacket with an elaborate sword, and two other women. One wore a Highlander uniform. The other was Lady Barrett, who’d interviewed Hal several times since he’d been taken prisoner. She’d returned to the capital a week ago. Now she was back, with some companions.

  Captain Gray seemed exceptionally glad to see them, because she charged forward, leaving Hal behind. Before she reached them, though, she seemed to remember herself, skidded to a halt, and saluted, bringing her fist to her chest. “Your Majesty,” she said to the woman in traveling garb. “Welcome to Delphi.”

  “Thank you, Captain Gray,” the newcomer said, with a warm smile.

  Your Majesty! Hal stared at her, trying to reconcile the woman in front of him with the bloodthirsty demon-riding witch he’d heard about all his life. His first thought was that she looked thin, and weary, and yet bursting with good news.

  “General Dunedain,” Gray said, saluting the other woman, who answered in kind. Now Hal was close enough to see that the woman wore a green officer’s scarf. A general’s scarf, it must be.

  “Welcome back, Julianna,” Gray said to Lady Barrett. “I’m so glad to see you—all of you. Why didn’t anyone tell me you were coming?”

  “I didn’t know myself, until day before yesterday,” the queen said. “That’s when I heard some good news, Captain, that I just had to share in person.”

  “Arden surrendered?” Gray guessed.

  “Almost as good,” the queen said. “The monster is dead.”

  Gray frowned, looking puzzled. “The monster?”

  “Gerard Montaigne. We just received word from our agents in the south. He’s dead.”

  Gray took a step forward, staring at the queen, her face alight with mingled joy and disbelief. “Dead?” she whispered, as if this news was a bright, shiny package she was afraid to open.

  Dead? The word echoed in Hal’s head. King Gerard is dead? What would that mean for his family? Might it mean that he could finally go home?

  Well. He looked around the headquarters, at the bluejackets and Highlanders all around him. There were definitely some obstacles in his way.

  “We don’t know exactly how and when it happened,” the queen was saying. “We surmise that it was just after Solstice. It seems that there was some kind of attack on the palace at Ardenscourt—an attack that is being blamed on me.” She shrugged, as if wearing that blame wasn’t too burdensome.

  “Something smashed the palace tower to bits,” Lady Barrett said. “They’re claiming it was a demon—this magical creature that nobody can find now.” She rolled her eyes. “Every time the southerners lose, they blame it on demons. Supposedly Montaigne wasn’t killed in the attack, but was so despondent afterward that he threw himself from the tower.” She shook her head. “I haven’t found a single person who believes that. Whenever Montaigne got a little down, he just murdered a few people, and that set him to rights.”

  That much is true, Hal thought. But, if there was an attack . . . who else was hurt? It was the winter season, after all, when his family was likely to be at court. He edged forward, unable to contain himself. “Was anyone else killed or injured?”

  They all turned round and looked at him.

  “Have we been introduced?” the queen said, cocking her head, fixing him with green eyes that seemed to look right through him.

  Gray jumped in to explain. “Your Majesty, this is Captain Halston Matelon, the former commander of the Ardenine forces here in Delphi. Captain Matelon, meet Queen Raisa ana’Marianna.”

  “Captain Matelon,” Queen Raisa said. “I met your father once or twice when I was a little girl. An impressive man and far too good a soldier to be fighting on the wrong side. I’ve heard that you are highly capable on the battlefield as well.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Hal said, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground. “But if I were highly capable, I would not be standing here a captive. I would have won.”

  “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Captain,” the queen said. “Captain Gray is one of our most well-respected commanders.” She winked at Gray, who looked as if the queen had just handed her a bouquet.

  Queen Raisa put her hand on Barrett’s shoulder. “Lady Barrett may be able to answer your question about casualties. She’s read all of the dispatches in full.”

  Barrett nodded. “There were some casualties in the attack, but we don’t have names. From all accounts, Queen Marina and the two children survived. Prince Jarat has been crowned king.”

  Hal had met Prince Jarat a few times. He hadn’t come away impressed, but it was hard to imagine that the prince could be worse than his father.

  The queen kept studying Hal, as if working out what manner of a man he was. “Captain Matelon, Lady Barrett has heard other news that you, in particular, should know,” she said.

  Barrett took a second look at the queen, as if to verify that she really wanted her sharing anything with Hal. Then she shrugged, and said, “Apparently there’s been considerable grumbling among the thanes following the loss of Delphi. Some have refused to offer more men and more money to the war effort.”

  “I see,” Hal said, in what he hoped was a neutral way. This was nothing new. He recalled his conversation with his father just after his reassignment to Delphi. Lord Matelon had blamed it on his own outspoken criticism of the war. The Matelons had long resisted funding King Gerard’s obsession with the frozen north.

  “Now I’m told that several of the most powerful thanes, including your father, have publicly broken with the king over the issue. Before the king . . . died, of course.”

  Hal straightened, his stomach churning. After twenty-five years, was the civil war starting up again? Could the rebellious thanes be responsible for the king’s death?

  Civilian casualties had been catastrophic when Gerard was battling his brothers for the throne. A civil war has no winners, only losers, and is to be avoided at all costs. That was another truth that had been drilled into him since he was small.

  “If that is true, I’m sorry that my failure played a part in that.”

  “Think of it not as your failure, but our success,” Gray said, drawing a grin from Dunedain.

  “In response, Montaigne imprisoned the families of members of the Thane Council, including your mother and sister. Apparently he intended to keep them as hostages against the thanes’ good behavior.”

  This was going from bad to worse. His father had warned him to stay out of the king’s gaol at all costs. Now Harper and their lady mother had taken his place. Harper had inherited their father’s temper and stubborn streak. Who knew how she would respond in this situation?

  He cleared his throat. “That’s difficult to believe,” he lied. “The king must have known that my father would never surrender to pressure of that kind.”

  “Keep in mind that I have no way to verify that story,” Barrett said. “I’m told that the king’s behavior was . . . erratic prior to his death. Thanelee Matelon and her daughter have not been seen since Delphi fell, but they may be in hiding for safety’s sake. However, I do have it on good authority that your father has called in his banners.”

 
Hal felt pounded by bad news, outnumbered by his enemies, with no way to confirm or disprove what he’d been told. But he had to ask. “Have you . . . have you heard news of my brother Robert?”

  “We believe he’s at White Oaks, with your father,” General Dunedain said.

  That, at least, was good news. White Oaks was the seat of the Matelon holdings, and its keep would be a formidable nut to crack.

  “It may be that we’re wrong about your family,” Barrett said. “Or that, under a new king, a general pardon might be issued.”

  “I’m wondering if the death of your king might signal a new relationship between our realms, Captain,” the northern queen said. “What do you think?”

  “Forgive me, ma’am,” Hal said, his mind swimming with worry. “I’m not much for politics.”

  “Spoken like a true soldier,” the queen said, glancing at Gray. “Still, I look forward to hearing your opinions.”

  Something’s going on, Hal thought, looking from Barrett to the queen. Something I don’t know about yet that’s caused them to allow me to listen in while they discussed developments in Arden. How much of what they’ve told me is true? What is it they are wanting me to do?

  Now, apparently, that had ended, because Captain Byrne motioned to his bluejackets. “We’re going to spend some time briefing Captain Gray on recent developments. Escort Captain Matelon back to his quarters.”

  31

  BAD NEWS AND GOOD NEWS

  When Matelon had gone, Lyss led the way to the privacy of the library. Once they were there, her mother opened her arms, and Lyss flew into them, all but lifting her mother from the floor in a savage dance of victory.

  We will raise another mountain

  And we’ll build it with your bones.

  “I only wish I could have killed the bastard myself,” Lyss said. “But I’ll take it, just the same.” She poured steaming mugs of wassail for everyone and they took seats around the hearth.

  “Ah, sweetheart,” her mother murmured. “I have waited so very long for this day. I just wish that we could all be together, so we could celebrate properly.”

  Lyss knew she was thinking of her grandfather and her father, her sister, and Adrian, too. “They’re here in spirit, Mama. And soon Adrian will be here in the flesh.” She paused, eager to share in the celebration at home, even if it was secondhand. “Are the bonfires burning in the Spirits?”

  “They are,” her mother said, smiling. She looked around. “You’ve made yourself at home here, I see.”

  “We have more good news, Your Highness,” Captain Byrne said. “We believe we have captured the busker that lured you into that ambush.”

  That drove everything else from Lyss’s mind. “Really? Are you sure it’s him?”

  Byrne nodded. “He was carrying the ruins of that . . . instrument you drew for us. He claims to be a traveling musician. He admits he was hired to play for you, but denies any knowledge of what they were planning to do.”

  “What’s his name?” Lyss asked.

  “He says it’s Breon d’Tarvos,” Byrne said.

  “Where’s Tarvos?”

  “It’s a port in Carthis,” Byrne said. “I don’t know anyone who’s ever been there, but it’s supposed to be a nest of pirates. He claims he isn’t magical, but he has some kind of strange emblem on the back of his neck.”

  Lyss couldn’t help fingering the back of her own neck. “Emblem?”

  “It’s raised, metallic, but embedded in the skin and impossible to remove,” Byrne said. “It resembles white gold or platinum with a faceted blue stone. Shadow wasn’t familiar with it, and he’s knowledgeable about flashcraft and magic. Finn doesn’t know what to make of it, either. Maybe it’s some kind of pirate badge.”

  “Or maybe Arden is controlling its mages with embedded amulets instead of collars,” Lyss said.

  “There’s one more thing,” Julianna said. “A year or so ago we received a message from Carthis, from someone who called herself the Empress in the East. She was offering a reward for anyone with a badge or brooch embedded in their skin. The message came via a pirate, and we’d never heard of this empress, and we’d never seen anything like that anyway, so we pretty much ignored it. Now I’m thinking we should try to get in touch with this empress and see what she can tell us.”

  Lyss nodded. “Was the busker taken in Fellsmarch, or—?”

  Byrne shook his head. “No, he was captured in Chalk Cliffs, and he’s being kept in the guardhouse there. It seems that he intended to take ship for Arden, which counts against him. Shadow and Talbot and sul’Mander have been interrogating him, but he’s sticking with his story.”

  “I want to go to Chalk Cliffs and talk to him,” Lyss said, remembering the boy with the haunting eyes and the ethereal music. “I might catch him in a lie or persuade him to confess. Besides, I need to find out what it was about him that turned me into a fool.” And cost two good Wolves their lives.

  Her mother nodded, as if she’d expected that. “I agree. I don’t blame you for wanting to unearth the whole story. Although I have hopes that, with Montaigne dead, his grudge died with him. Perhaps we’ve seen the end of these murders.”

  Lyss’s breath caught. That hadn’t even occurred to her. Was it possible? Did this mean that she would no longer have to worry every time her mother walked out the door? Could Lyss really walk the streets of the capital without listening for the sound of crossbows?

  “I want you to take a squadron of Highlanders with you,” the queen said. “Captain Byrne will send two triples of Wolves along. I want some strength in numbers, especially if they might be bringing the boy back to Fellsmarch. I don’t want this fish slipping through our fingers.”

  It would be good to get out of Delphi, briefly, anyway, and see Sasha and Shadow—and Finn—again.

  “I’m curious about Captain Matelon.” General Dunedain turned her cup between her hands. “He has an excellent reputation as a field commander, and yet you’ve defeated him on the battlefield twice in a row. Now that he’s been your prisoner for several weeks, what do you think of him?”

  “Matelon?” Lyss considered this. “He is a soldier’s officer. His men are intensely loyal, with good reason. As far as our face-offs, you already know that Matelon was dealt a very bad hand at Queen Court.”

  “Interesting that Karn would put an officer like Matelon in that position,” Julianna said. “Has he said anything about that? Complained about it?”

  Lyss shook her head. “As you might have noticed, he’s very closemouthed when it comes to offering opinions. He doesn’t trust us.”

  “I would be surprised if he trusts anyone, after being raised in Arden,” Raisa said.

  “What about here in Delphi?” Dunedain persisted. “How did he fare here?”

  “Here at Delphi, Matelon made mistakes,” Lyss said. “He allowed himself to be drawn into a battle on our field, on our terms. He was outsmarted. It happens.” Lyss paused. “Since we’re on the topic of Matelon, what was that show in the yard all about?”

  “Show?” Julianna raised an eyebrow.

  “I had the feeling that you were playing him,” Lyss said. “That there was a purpose to spilling all that.”

  “There was,” Julianna said, looking over the rim of her mug at Lyss.

  “What Julianna means is that we’re still trying to figure out whether Montaigne’s death is bad news or good news for us,” her mother said.

  “How could it possibly be bad news?” Lyss stared at her mother in astonishment. “I mean, you already said—”

  “We don’t know much about the prince,” Julianna said. “Up to now Gerard’s been making all the decisions. As his brothers found out, relatives who didn’t go along with Gerard’s agenda paid a blood price. Now King Jarat will be in a position to make policy. Being sixteen, he’s hard to predict. Queen Marina is regent, but she’s never had much agency, as far as we can tell.”

  “Maybe,” the queen murmured, looking unconvinced. “She is a T
omlin, after all. She might surprise you.”

  “Before Gerard’s death, there was chatter about some mysterious new ally who would help Arden win the war once and for all,” Julianna said. “We don’t know if Gerard was blowing smoke, or if the deal is still on the table. Meanwhile, the thanes will likely see this as an opportunity to regain some of the power they lost under King Gerard. He’d been systematically stripping them of lands and incomes since he ascended the throne. And any one of them—Matelon Senior, for instance—might decide he’d like to be king himself.”

  “Sounds like a political mess,” Lyss muttered.

  “It is,” Julianna said, with a kind of peculiar delight. Unlike Lyss, she seemed to thrive on political messes. “We can sit up here and watch, or we can try to shape things to our advantage.”

  “How would we do that?” Lyss said, intrigued in spite of herself.

  “There are several possibilities,” her mother said. “If the civil war continues, we’ll back the side that wants to make peace with us.”

  “The thanes are likely to want peace,” Julianna said, “because they’ve been the ones paying for the war in men and treasure. They’ve been complaining about it for years. That was at the root of the falling-out between Thane Matelon and Gerard.”

  “If the thanes want peace and King Jarat wants war,” Lyss’s mother said, “then we strike an agreement with the thanes and we send Captain Matelon back to fight alongside his father.”

  “What are the other possibilities?” Lyss said warily.

  “It may be that King Jarat and the thanes will reconcile immediately, now that Gerard is out of the way,” Julianna said. “If that happens, the question is, will they want to continue this war, or sue for peace?”

  “In other words, was this damnable war really all about King Gerard’s hurt feelings, or is there more support for the war than we think?” Lyss said.

  All around, heads nodded.

  “The Church of Malthus might favor carrying on with the war, since they’ve sold it as a battle between good and evil,” Julianna said. “But they have a history of standing down when confronted with the power of kings and princes.”