Shalador's Lady bj-8

by Anne Bishop

  “Did you recognize him, Ranon?” Burne asked.

  Ranon shook his head.

  Cassidy swallowed hard. “If he belongs to her First Circle, I could identify—”

  “No,” Ranon said. After Darkmist unleashed that punch of Opal power, the man’s head had looked wrong. Until he figured out why it looked wrong, he wasn’t letting Cassidy near the body. Wasn’t letting Shira near it either.

  “Archerr and Shaddo are going to find a place to store the body until Talon rises,” Ranon said. “As Master of the Guard, this falls to him now, Lady.”

  “Ranon is correct,” Powell said. “And as Talon’s second-in-command, the decisions of what to do with the enemy are Ranon’s to make, Lady, not yours.”

  Maybe she would have argued, but just then Shira appeared in the doorway, hugging herself.

  “I don’t know,” Shira said, coming into the room. “He’s alive. His heart is beating and he’s breathing. His neck may be bruised, but I have no sense of anything broken. But he’s not there. I can’t wake him up, not with healing Craft or the Hourglass’s Craft. Vae says . . .” Her voice broke, and Ranon watched her pull on all the strength inside her to continue. “Vae says sometimes humans try to force kindred to live with them. It’s almost impossible to control the cats once they start growing up because they’re wild and so big. The wolves, like the cats, are too wild, and the horses, unicorns, and dragons are big. But Scelties are small, so sometimes humans try to take them. And s-sometimes a Sceltie goes away to a place deep inside himself, where humans can’t find him. Where humans can’t follow.”

  “What happens then?” Cassidy asked.

  Tears filled Shira’s eyes. “He either comes back . . . or he dies.”

  “What can we do?” Ranon’s voice was rough. “Shira, what can we do?”

  She shook her head. “We wait. Vae and Darkmist said to leave him wrapped in your shirt because it has your smells. They think that’s a good thing for him right now.”

  She walked out of the room.

  *Ranon?* Archerr called softly.

  *Yeah?*

  *We didn’t know where else to put it, so we brought the body to the Healing House.* Archerr hesitated. *Keep Shira away from here. Shaddo and I have had a closer look at what Darkmist did to this bastard and . . . Keep Shira away from here. Cassidy too.*

  *Can you put a shield around the Healing House to keep everyone out?*

  *I can. I have, in fact. I’d rather not be inside with . . . that . . . more than I have to.*

  “Why would Kermilla do that?” Cassidy asked. “Why?”

  “Come on, Cassie,” Gray said gently. “Come away now.”

  Ranon watched Gray lead Cassie out of the room.

  *Ranon?* Janos called.

  Mother Night. *Where are you? Are you okay?*

  *We’re fine. Reyhana and I got back from a ride and . . . Could you tell Kief to let us go? He’s got us trapped in a stall, and he says we can’t leave until you say it’s safe.*

  On another day, that would have been funny. *We’ve had some trouble, Prince Janos. Khollie’s been hurt.*

  *How bad?*

  *Don’t know yet. Here are my orders for you and Kief: Both of you escort Reyhana back to the Residence. I want all three of you shielded, you hear me?*

  *Yes, sir. I hear you.*

  And he heard the Warlord Prince in his brother’s voice.

  “I’ll be in my office if you need me.” Powell touched his arm—a gesture full of understanding—before following Cassidy and Gray out of the room.

  “Burne and I will head over to Main Street and see what needs to be done,” Spere said.

  Ranon nodded. “Jaego was on the street and probably already alerted Rogir, but pull in everyone you can to ride circuits. Make sure the landen community is put on alert, too. I don’t know what kind of game that bitch was trying to play, but we’re not giving her a second chance at it.”

  “I’ll do that,” Cayle said.

  “And you, Ranon?” Spere asked.

  “Shaddo, Archerr, and I will hold the Queen’s square. Once Talon rises . . .”

  Hours yet. It would be hours yet. And all any of them could do was wait.

  Talon pressed two fingers against the deceased Warlord’s head, then took a step back, shuddering.

  Felt like pebbles in a bag of mush. It would have been less disturbing if the head had exploded from the blast of power. They’d all done that on a killing field at one time or other. But having the ability to explode bone and brains and still leave the skin intact indicated a frightening level of skill in the use of Craft and power.

  More than frightening since that level of skill belonged to a dog who wore Birthright Opal and was still growing into his full strength.

  “Have you seen anything like this, Talon?” Archerr asked.

  The First Circle—and Gray—had gathered at the Healing House to look at this corpse. Talon scanned their faces. Wasn’t one of them who wasn’t sickly pale. Not that he blamed them for that. He was demon-dead, and even he was finding it hard to be in this room.

  “No, I haven’t,” Talon replied. “Passing flesh through flesh is dangerous to the point of stupidity. Healers do it, sinking their hands into a person to heal injuries inside the body, but that’s a controlled, steady movement, and they spend years training to do it so they don’t lose parts of themselves within the other flesh.”

  “This was fast,” Ranon said, his voice oddly hushed. “So damn fast. I thought he missed. Until I saw the blood on Darkmist’s muzzle and the heart, I thought he missed the bastard.”

  “Shaddo and I were behind this one,” Archerr said, tipping his head to indicate the corpse. “Damned queer feeling, seeing the dog disappear like that. We weren’t even sure what we’d seen.”

  “No hesitation,” Shaddo said. “The Scelties. Before we had time to figure out something was wrong, they’d decided who among them was fighting and who was defending. Fast. Hell’s fire, they were fast.”

  “Wasn’t just the Scelties on the street either,” Spere said. “Duffy knew. He told Moore there was an attack in the village, then left Moore to defend the people working in the landen community while he went out for the shepherds and livestock. And Keely herded every child in the Queen’s square who was playing outside into the nearest house.”

  Talon listened to them all. Strong men. Good men. And every one of them, himself included, hadn’t really understood what lived inside those small furry bodies. Despite being around Vae, they really hadn’t understood that these dogs were Blood who had been given exceptional training in Craft—and in fighting.

  Once things calmed down, he was going to find out exactly what the Scelties could do.

  “They weren’t waiting for me,” Ranon said quietly. “Vae could have taken that bastard. She wears Purple Dusk. He wore Summer-sky. She and Lizzie and Darcy were holding him in place, keeping him pinned, but she could have broken his defensive shields and attacked. I thought she was waiting for me to reach the fight.” He shook his head. “They were waiting for Darkmist.”

  That bruises you, doesn’t it? Talon thought. It hurts your heart some to realize they weren’t sure they could count on you to defend one of them. Now you all know the answer.

  Powell cleared his throat. “How did this man manage to get his hands on Khollie in the first place?”

  “Snatched him,” Shaddo said. “According to Darcy, the three of them heard a man’s voice calling to them. Vae didn’t like something about the voice and stayed put, but it sounded friendly, and Khollie had no reason to think anyone in the village would hurt him, so he moved toward it. So did Darcy, but from another direction. That’s why he picked up the scent and realized the voice was coming from someone who was sight shielded. That made him wary, and he stopped. But Khollie was already close enough to grab. The moment he disappeared, Darcy and Vae warned the other Scelties and launched their attack. You know the rest.”

  Talon didn’t know nearly enough,
but he knew what had to be done next. “Archerr, Spere, and Haele are coming with me. Ranon—”

  “I’m going with you.”

  Talon shook his head. Ranon’s eyes were too bright, and he couldn’t tell if the Shaladoran’s temper was leaning toward hot or cold. Which meant Ranon was too unpredictable for this assignment.

  “I’ll hold my tongue and my temper,” Ranon said. “You have my word on it. But if you’re taking this back to the mansion, I want to stand as witness. For Khollie’s sake.”

  “I’m coming too,” Gray said.

  “No, you’re not.” He’d give in for Ranon, but not for Gray. “You’re needed here, Gray. Cassie’s parents are home in Dharo. Even if we sent a message now, they couldn’t get back to Eyota until tomorrow. That means Cassie needs you to be here with her. Your duty is to your Queen, Prince.”

  He watched Gray absorb the words—and felt relieved when Gray nodded.

  “The rest of you split up. I want the landing webs, north and east, guarded at all times. Anyone can drop from the Winds anywhere along the thread, but from now on, we consider anyone a potential enemy who doesn’t arrive in the village at the landing webs or refuses to tell the guard on duty his business in our village.” Talon flipped the blanket over the corpse, glad to hide that head. “Let’s get this done.”

  And may the Darkness have mercy on me if Theran knew about this.

  Gray found Cassidy in the garden, leaning against one of the big trees.

  “Cassie.” He drew her against him, back to chest, and wrapped his arms around her.

  “What am I supposed to tell Jaenelle?” Cassidy asked, her voice breaking. “She trusted me to look after the kindred. She wouldn’t have allowed them to come here otherwise. What am I supposed to tell her?”

  He pressed his lips against her temple. “Nothing. Tonight, there is nothing to say. We’ll know more in the morning.”

  She turned in his arms and held on to him while she wept.

  He held on too and hoped with everything in him that Khollie would wake up because, better than Cassie ever could, he understood the seductive lure of going away from fear and pain and never coming back. Even if that meant dying.

  Julien opened the parlor door and said, “Prince Grayhaven, Prince Talon needs to speak with you. It is urgent.”

  Theran glanced at Kermilla as he set aside his book and rose. She’d become more and more agitated throughout the afternoon, although she’d refused to tell him why. Even Jhorma couldn’t get an answer from her. Now, hearing Talon’s name, she looked frightened.

  “Bardoc, stay with the Lady,” Jhorma said as he pushed away from the card table and approached Theran.

  Jhorma had no business assuming he could be part of this meeting, but Theran wasn’t going to argue. Jhorma was a rival for Kermilla’s affections—and her bed—but lately he’d shown himself to be a sensible man who had a fair amount of court polish. And right now, Theran wasn’t going to turn away anyone’s help. “Julien, tell Prince Talon—”

  Talon walked into the room, brushing Julien aside. Ranon, Archerr, Spere, and Haele followed him, carrying a stretcher that held a blanket-wrapped bundle.

  “Theran,” Talon said. “Lord Jhorma.” He looked at Kermilla, who was still sitting at the card table, and said nothing—a deliberate social cut.

  “I think this belongs to your Lady,” Talon said, turning his attention back to Theran. Using Craft he pulled aside the blanket far enough to reveal the head.

  “Mother Night,” Jhorma whispered. “That’s Laska.”

  “Laska?” Kermilla squeaked.

  “What happened to him?” Theran asked.

  The look in Talon’s eyes. Hard. Unforgiving.

  “This afternoon, this man came to the village of Eyota and tried to abduct a young Warlord,” Talon said. “The youngster’s brother, a Warlord Prince, eliminated the enemy. Afterwards, a member of the court identified the man as one of hers. So we have returned him.”

  “It took a lot of rage to do that,” Jhorma said, staring at Laska.

  “There was a reason for the rage,” Talon replied, his eyes never leaving Theran.

  Theran’s heart banged against his chest. “Is the youngster all right?”

  “The Healer has done all she can. We don’t know if it will be enough,” Talon said.

  Hard eyes. Unforgiving eyes. Accusing eyes.

  *Hell’s fire, Talon, how bad is it?* Theran asked. *Why would Laska do it?*

  *As for why, ask your Lady,* Talon replied. *As for how bad . . . We won’t know that until we know if the youngster will live.*

  Theran looked at Ranon. Cold, black fury in those eyes. And pain.

  Mother Night.

  “I appreciate you returning the body to us,” Jhorma said. “I recognize the courtesy you have extended to us in doing so. I will take the body back to Dharo. Shame will shroud his family’s grief because there was no honor in how Laska died, but his family will still grieve.”

  *Talon, I am so sorry,* Theran said.

  *Laska’s family isn’t the only one who has a reason to feel shame because of this.* Talon walked out of the room.

  After lowering the stretcher to the floor, Ranon and the other men followed Talon. Julien hurried out after them.

  “I’ll leave as soon as I’m packed.” Jhorma vanished the body and stretcher.

  “Let Bardoc give you a hand with the packing.”

  Jhorma gave Theran a long look, then signaled Bardoc, who joined them with too much haste.

  “I think Bardoc should accompany me to Dharo,” Jhorma said. “He and Laska came from the same village. He knows the family.”

  Theran nodded. He didn’t care what Jhorma did, not when all his hopes for Dena Nehele were breaking around him.

  He closed the door behind Jhorma and Bardoc—and put a Green lock on it. Then he turned to face Kermilla, who had left the card table and was now standing in the middle of the room, looking pale and scared.

  “What was Laska doing in Eyota?” He moved toward her while his temper strained the leash. “He had no reason to be there. He had no business being there.”

  “I don’t know,” Kermilla said.

  “Don’t lie to me.” He stopped, not willing to tempt his control by getting too close to her. “He’s a member of your court. You have to know.”

  “I don’t know!” Some anger in her voice and eyes now that he was challenging her.

  “Hell’s fire, Kermilla. Do you know what this has done to your reputation? One of your First Circle tried to abduct a young Warlord. I can tell you two reasons the Warlord Princes are going to think of when they hear about this: torture and rape.”

  “Laska wasn’t like that,” Kermilla snapped. “Laska wouldn’t do that. I would never have anyone in my court who would do that!”

  You would have brought Garth and Brok into your court. If you could overlook one kind of rapist, why not another?

  He pushed that thought away and buried it deep.

  “Then what was he doing in that village, and what was he doing with that boy that would piss off a brother enough to kill Laska that way?” Theran shouted.

  “He wasn’t getting a boy!” she screamed. “He went there to get me a Sceltie!”

  Theran took a step back, staggered by the foolishness that cost a man his life—and probably cost the rest of them in other ways.

  “A Sceltie.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Hell’s fire, woman, have you lost your mind?”

  “The Warlord Princes are all so impressed that Cassidy has some, and they’re not going to take me seriously until I have one too.” Tears filled her eyes and her lower lip trembled. “They wouldn’t have missed one in that stupid village. Besides, you sent Correne away, and that awful Talon killed Garth and Brok, and I wanted company. You’re always too busy to pay attention to me even though you say you love me.”

  “So this is my fault because I’m working in every way I can to get this town through the coming winter
?” He paced, circled, wanted to tear up the room and smash the furniture. But he couldn’t afford to replace whatever he destroyed, so he held his temper and circled. And paced.

  “Even if Laska had managed to snatch one without being detected, how would you have held on to it?” he asked. “They’re kindred, Kermilla. Blood. Didn’t you notice anything while Vae was here? She’s a witch. She wears a Purple Dusk Jewel. Mother Night, woman, she outranks you.”

  “How dare you!”

  He stopped in front of her. “That’s fact, Kermilla. Vae’s Jewels outrank yours. So what were you going to do with this Warlord if he didn’t want to stay here? Chain him? Cage him? Beat him and torture him until he was too broken down in body and spirit to run?”

  “He wouldn’t be of any use if he was like that.” She stamped her foot. “But he would have wanted to stay with me. Once he got here, he would have.”

  “Doesn’t matter now.” Theran sank into the nearest chair, leaned back and closed his eyes.

  Kermilla wasn’t like the Queen who had tortured Gray. She wasn’t. But she’d made an error in judgment that would not be fixed easily. If he could fix it at all.

  “Theran?” Kermilla climbed into his lap and pressed against him. “Theran, I’m sorry about this little trouble.”

  “One of your men died. That’s not a little trouble,” he said wearily. “Talon, the most respected man in this land, is against you. That’s not a little trouble. The fact that Talon isn’t making a distinction between kindred and human Blood in this instance . . .” He sighed. “In a couple of days, every Warlord Prince is going to know that you sent a man to Eyota to abduct a young Warlord, and no one is going to care if you intended to take a boy or a dog.”

  She snuggled down and put her head on his shoulder. “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know.” He put his arms around her, unable to deny her whatever comfort he could give. “I really don’t know.”

  Ranon stood in the parlor doorway, unable to take that last step into the room. Vae looked up from her spot on the sofa and gave him one tail-tip wag. Darkmist, who was on the floor in front of the sofa, gave him no greeting but also didn’t challenge his presence.