Shalador's Lady bj-8

by Anne Bishop

  A moment of choice.

  Theran put himself between Kermilla and Gray. “That’s enough, Gray. Kermilla, please go back inside.”

  “I want—”

  “Kermilla.” He’d pay for giving her an order in front of someone, but Gray would try to hurt her, maybe even try to kill her, if she didn’t get out of sight.

  He waited until Kermilla was safely inside the house; then he focused his anger on his cousin.

  “What in the name of Hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Gray stared at him. “Do you actually serve that bitch? Sleep with that bitch?”

  “Stop calling her that!”

  “I’ll call her what she is.”

  “You don’t even know her.”

  “I may not know her, but I knew one just like her. I have the scars to prove it.”

  “She’s not like that! She’s nothing like that! And you better mind your tongue, boy. When Kermilla becomes the Queen of Dena Nehele, she is not going to forget your insults.”

  “Then it’s fortunate she’s not going to become the Queen.” Gray drove the pitchfork deep into the soil. “Cassie is the Queen of Dena Nehele.”

  “Only until spring. When her contract runs out, Kermilla will rule.”

  “No,” Gray said. “Cassie is the Queen.”

  “One-year contract, Gray. Then she’s gone.”

  “No. She’s settled in. She’s chosen to rule.”

  “I’m not serving a minute beyond my contract, and when I leave, Cassidy’s court will break and re-form around Kermilla as the new Queen.”

  Gray laughed. “You really think men like Archerr and Shaddo are going to serve Kermilla? You think Ranon is going to serve someone like her?”

  “They’ll serve if I say they’ll serve. Or have you immersed yourself so much in that shitty little Shalador slum that you’ve forgotten who I am?”

  He regretted saying the words the moment he gave them voice—and regretted them even more when Gray’s eyes filled with something frigid and bitter.

  “How could I forget who you are?” Gray said. “You’re Grayhaven. You’re the last of the line, the one who needed to be protected and defended at any cost. For what, Theran? So you can play the pony now for her? If that’s what you wanted, you should have come down from the mountains years ago and given yourself to the Queens who were here. They were no different than her, and they would have used you just fine. If you don’t believe me, I’ll take off my shirt and show you my back. I guess you’ve forgotten what it looks like.” He paused. “I paid a high price to protect you.”

  “And now you regret it?”

  “Yes, I do. Today, I do. Today, I wish I’d told you to get your own damn box of sweets if you wanted them that much. But you wanted the box of sweets from the bakery and the sweets between that girl’s thighs—and you got them both. What did I get? Two years of pain and fear and nightmares about things you will never know, and ten years beyond that of being frozen in a shroud of boyhood. And for what, Theran? For what?”

  Theran took a step back.

  “Because of you, I’m less than what I could have been, and I have to live with that. Every day, I have to live with that.”

  The air between them crackled.

  “You’re not thinking this through, Gray. You’re not seeing this clearly.”

  “Oh, but I am, Prince Grayhaven. I am seeing things quite clearly. You’re the one who wants to ignore what you’ve done and pretend someone else is to blame.”

  “And what have I done?”

  “You drew the line, and now you don’t want to admit that we’re standing on opposite sides. If you make Kermilla the Queen, I will fight her with everything I am—because I would rather die than live one day under her hand.” Gray flung out his right hand, aiming for the flower bed. All the plants and bulbs exploded out of the ground and hung in the air for a moment. The bulbs vanished; the plants fell back into the flower bed.

  A moment later, the basket vanished too.

  “I changed my mind,” Gray said. “I’m taking all the bulbs I planted for Cassie. If your bitch wants a spring garden, she can plant one herself.” He walked away, heading around the house to reach the landing web beyond the gates.

  “Gray!” Theran yelled.

  Gray stopped and turned. “My name is Jared Blaed.”

  EBON ASKAVI

  Saetan opened the Gate and stepped through to the Keep in Terreille.

  He was going to have to talk to Gray about the timing of these unscheduled visits. The boy had a knack for catching him at the end of his waking hours.

  He opened the door of the sitting room, then stayed in the doorway, assessing the changes in the man who furiously paced the length of the room.

  “Prince,” he said as he stepped into the room and closed the door.

  Gray rushed toward him, those green eyes filled with a fury that must have been building every minute of the journey here.

  “You have to teach me how to be a Consort,” Gray said.

  “Boyo, I don’t have to teach you anything,” Saetan replied mildly.

  “Theran’s going to break the court,” Gray snapped. “He’s planning to push Cassie out come spring and put that bitch Kermilla in her place.”

  “Gray . . .”

  “It’s not fair! After all the work Cassie has done, all the good she’s done, and he thinks he can snap his fingers and everyone will drop to their knees and lick Kermilla’s ass.”

  “Gray . . .”

  “Well, I’m not licking anyone’s ass, not again, and he is not going to break Cassie’s court. So you—”

  “Gray!”

  Gray drew in one deep breath after another, as if he’d been running hard. His hands were clenched, and there was a wild look in his eyes. “My name is Jared Blaed.”

  “And my name is Saetan. I suggest you remember that.”

  A month ago, he would have been more lenient with the boy. But Jaenelle’s remark that Gray could have been Second Circle changed things. A Warlord Prince who had the personality and strength to stand in the Second Circle of the Dark Court at Ebon Askavi was a dangerous man. Not just because of the Jewels he wore but because of the kind of man he was inside. So Gray was going to be held to some very strict standards from now on.

  “If I become Cassie’s Consort when Theran leaves, then her court won’t break,” Gray said.

  Two Queens. Two courts in a fight for the same Territory.

  If the fight remained between the courts, a few good men would die—and possibly the vanquished Queen as well. If the fight escalated beyond the courts . . . it would be war.

  “This is what is going to happen today,” Saetan said. “You’re coming back with me to the Keep in Kaeleer. I’ll ask Daemon and Lucivar to join us. Then we’ll discuss your concerns and your request for training.”

  Gray opened his mouth, and if he said what the look in his eyes indicated, Saetan wouldn’t hesitate to toss him out of the Keep with the firm understanding that he wouldn’t be allowed back in until he’d learned some manners.

  Apparently Gray had already learned some manners because he reined in his temper and said, “Thank you, sir. That would be appreciated.”

  “Fine. Since I was about to retire and get some rest, I’m going to do that until Daemon and Lucivar arrive. And what will you be doing?”

  A long pause while Gray eyed him warily. “I’m going to be making mulch?”

  Saetan’s smile had a razor’s edge. “I’m delighted we understand one another.”

  “Yes, sir. I’m delighted too.”

  Hardly, Saetan thought as he led Gray to the Gate and opened it to the Keep in Kaeleer.

  After leaving Gray in a courtyard with an empty barrel and enough wood to keep the boy occupied for the rest of the day if need be, he sent a thought on a Black psychic spear thread. *Daemon.*

  *Father?* Instant concern.

  *Gray is here. I need you and Lucivar at the Keep as soon as you can get here.
*

  *Is Gray all right?*

  Saetan snorted softly. *Prince Jared Blaed is pissed off and doing just fine.*

  A thoughtful assessment he could feel through the psychic thread.

  *Are you going to get some rest before we arrive?* Daemon asked.

  *Yes.*

  Amusement filled the thread. *So what do you have him doing with his time? Chopping wood or making mulch?*

  *Since Lucivar has been working through a lot of temper lately by chopping wood, there’s already enough stacked to supply his eyrie, the Keep, and The Tavern for the next year or so.*

  *Ah. So Gray is making mulch.*

  *Or sawdust.*

  Saetan broke the link and went up to his suite. If the discussion turned out to be as lively as he expected, he was going to need all the rest he could get.

  Tired, sore, and dressed in clean clothes after taking a long, hot shower, Gray mopped up the stew in the bottom of the bowl with the last bite of bread. Full, he sat back and noticed the books that filled one shelf in the wall.

  He’d just made his selection when Daemon walked into the room.

  “So you decided to stir things up today, did you?” Daemon said, smiling.

  Gray put the book back on the shelf. “Did Uncle Saetan tell you why I’m here?”

  “No, he just said Lucivar and I were needed.”

  “I didn’t think he told you. You wouldn’t be smiling if he had.”

  “Be careful, puppy,” Daemon said softly. “I consider you a friend, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be careful.”

  Daemon walked out of the room. Gray followed to the sitting room where Saetan and Lucivar waited. Daemon took a seat. Gray didn’t.

  “Now,” Saetan said, “say what you need to say, and we’ll listen. And thenyou will listen.”

  The anger, and the feeling of betrayal, that had been building since his fight with Theran that morning overflowed, and he told them everything. He told them about all the things Cassie had done for the Shalador people and for Dena Nehele. He told them about the village and how it felt to be part of that community. He told them about the landen community and the people who lived there. And then he told them about going to Grayhaven early that morning to retrieve some of the special bulbs he’d planted for Cassie and learning that Theran intended to replace Cassie with Kermilla, just tossing Cassie aside after all the work she’d done for their people.

  And he felt jagged ice fill his gut when he realized the three of them didn’t seem the least bit surprised to hear about Theran’s plans for Kermilla.

  “That’s why I want to train to be a Consort,” he finished. “So I can take Theran’s place and keep the court intact.”

  Silence. Then Daemon said, “First Escort, not Consort.”

  “Cassie and I are lovers. I should be her Consort.”

  “When did this happen?” Lucivar asked. “I don’t recall discussing it—or giving my permission.”

  The mildly curious tone made Gray nervous. Then he remembered the fire dance and the primal power that he’d finally welcomed without reservation. He was no longer just Gray, the man. Now he was also Jared Blaed, the Warlord Prince. “With all respect, Prince Yaslana, the rules you set in the spring protected me as well as Cassie because I wasn’t emotionally ready to be a lover. Now I am, and we don’t need those rules anymore—and frankly, what she and I do together is none of your business.”

  Lucivar smiled. “You can look me in the eyes and say that, so you’re right. It’s none of my business anymore.”

  Thank the Darkness for that.

  “First Escort, Gray, not Consort,” Daemon said.

  “You were Jaenelle’s Consort,” Gray said.

  “And make no mistake, I still am. But the Queen’s Triangle is about the court, and while the Consort provides a very intimate kind of service, his position and his status are still about the court. In terms of the court, a First Escort performs the same function except for the sex. Your relationship with Cassie is personal. You want to keep it that way. She was hurt by the last man who served as her Consort. You don’t ever want her to wonder if you’re in her bed because you want to wear the Consort’s ring and have the status and reputation that goes with it.”

  Gray sat down. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

  “You’re into the last of the harvest now, aren’t you?” Saetan asked.

  “Yes, sir. Except for the autumn squashes that we’ll harvest next month, the rest has been brought in.”

  “All right,” Saetan said. “You’ll come here once a week, late afternoon. Plan to stay over until the following morning. You’ll be studying Protocol with an eye to how it applies to a First Escort.”

  “What should I tell Cassie?” Gray asked. “I don’t want her to know about this. Not until she has to. It will break her heart.”

  “Tell her I’ve decided you require more training, and I’m going to personally provide that training. If she has any problem with you spending time at the Keep, she may discuss it with me.”

  “Do you think she will discuss it with you?”

  “No.”

  Didn’t think so.

  “You’ll also work with Daemon and Lucivar.”

  “We’ll let him practice with Jaenelle,” Lucivar said. “When he can keep up with her—and keep track of her—for half a day, he’ll be able to make the run with any other Queen.”

  “That’s settled then,” Saetan said.

  “What happens when Theran breaks Cassidy’s court?” Gray asked.

  “If Theran has the same misunderstanding about courts that you do, he’s in for a rude awakening,” Saetan said. “Except when a court is first formed, not everyone joins at the same time. People come in, people move on.”

  “And sometimes timing can be a delightful knife rammed up someone’s ass,” Daemon purred. “The moment Theran announces his intentions to make Kermilla the Queen, Cassidy can demote him to a regular escort in her First Circle and you can sign a contract to serve as First Escort. That gives her thirteen males in the First Circle. If Cassie chooses not to dismiss him, Theran has to fulfill his contract to the last minute. Next spring, she already has a court that stands, and he’s left trying to build one around a Queen of questionable morals.”

  Gray looked at Daemon. “Did you know he would do this when you let Cassie come to Dena Nehele?”

  Daemon stared at him for a long time. “If I’d known, I would have buried him in a grave that could never be found. But that’s done now, and we have to let this play out as it will.”

  Why?

  He looked at the three men who watched him with such predatory patience and knew the answer.

  Jaenelle.

  If Jaenelle thought Cassie could win against Kermilla without direct help from these men, then she could win. Would win.

  In the next few months, he was going to learn everything he could from these men to make sure of it.

  “When do we start?” he asked.

  “Since we’re all here, now would be a good time,” Saetan replied.

  TERREILLE

  Cassidy glanced out the window again. Gray had left very early that morning, and no one had seen him since—or knew exactly where he’d gone.

  “He had to have told someone where he’d gone,” she said to Talon. “Could he have told one of the Scelties? Someone we didn’t think to ask?”

  “Ranon received a message from Gray around midday saying that he had an appointment and would be back late this evening,” Talon replied. “Cassidy . . .”

  “But he didn’t say where he would be! That’s not like him, Talon. You know that.”

  “I’ll send word through the rogue camps. Maybe he’s up in the mountains somewhere.”

  Why?

  After a couple of nights in her bed, was he already looking for a way to leave?

  “Cassidy . . .”

  She finally heard it. She’d been so preoccupied about Gray, she’d ignored the obvious. Talon had so
mething to tell her, and he wasn’t comfortable saying it.

  “I made a promise a long time ago,” Talon said, “and twice a year I keep that promise. It means I’ll be gone for a day. Maybe two.”

  “Where?”

  “I can’t tell you. Saying more would break a long-standing trust.”

  If she ordered him to, he would tell her—and that would break the trust building between them.

  “Can you promise me that what you do will not harm Dena Nehele or any of its people?” she asked.

  He relaxed. He even smiled. “That I can promise with everything in me.”

  “Then we’ll look forward to your return.”

  “Thank you, Lady.”

  After Talon left the room, Cassidy curled up in a window seat.

  It wasn’t fair to compare Gray and Jhorma, to compare a man who said he loved her with one who had wanted to list being her Consort on his credentials. It wasn’t fair, but Gray’s unexplained absence made her wonder if he would continue to want her now that he was emotionally healed. Being his first lover didn’t mean he wanted her to be his last.

  If that was the case, she would find the strength to let him go with grace. But after he was gone, would she be able to hide the heartache well enough to escape the pity of her own court?

  CHAPTER 28

  TERREILLE

  Dena Nehele Queens rode the trails through the Tamanara Mountains in secret and in silence. Some had made this journey many times over many years. For others, it was the first time they had dared to give anyone this much trust.

  Each of them had the list of trails to follow. Their escorts knew the exact time they had to pass the checkpoints on the trails. Miss the time, and you had a choice: turn back or die. There was no leniency or mercy in the spells that protected the mountain trails—and in this time and place, there was no mercy in the Sapphire-Jeweled Warlord Prince who created those spells year after year, generation after generation. He was the assurance that the Queens who had gathered twice a year to talk with each other were safe from the ones who had ruled.

  When they reached the meeting place, they left horses and escorts behind and entered the clearing alone. Many embraced, relieved to see familiar faces again. But no one asked for a name. They never asked for a name. Even if they lived in neighboring villages and knew each other, they did not acknowledge such things, or ask about children, lovers, or parents.