Shalador's Lady bj-8

by Anne Bishop

  He strode to his desk, grabbed a document, and thrust it into her hands.

  She read—and felt a fury rise in her unlike anything she had felt before. “That bitch! She’s taken whole Provinces?”

  “Everything south of the Heartsblood River is now ruled by Lady Cassidy, Queen of Shalador Nehele,” Theran said bitterly. “A third of Dena Nehele is gone because of a piece of paper!”

  “No! Get them back. Theran, you have to get those Provinces back!” A third of Dena Nehele? A third of the income that should be hers? Unthinkable! “You can’t let her do this to us. To the land and the people who need our guidance,” she amended when she noticed the uncertainty in his eyes.

  “Well, they don’t think they need anything from us.” Theran resumed his pacing.

  “You have to stop this!” Kermilla sank into a chair. That bitch. Should have known better than to offer anything. She’d been willing to let Freckledy rule the Shalador reserves, hadn’t she? Wasn’t much there worth having anyway, but it had been a way to show how generous she could be by letting the Queen who had been dismissed remain in her little village and be useful. Of course Cassidy, being a fine draft horse of a Queen, was useful.

  But no. The bitch got greedy and stole Provinces that should have been hers. And that was something she couldn’t allow.

  That strange fury washed through her again. “You have to do something, Prince Grayhaven.”

  He gave her an odd look—more appreciative of this show of temper than wary of it.

  Finally he stopped pacing, rubbed his hands over his face, and sighed. “There’s nothing I can do, Kermilla. A copy of that document is already at the Keep. There is no way to deny it exists. They did this behind my back, not even giving me the chance to challenge the decision, but it’s done now.”

  “Then change it,” Kermilla said.

  “How? War? Do you know what another war would do to us right now?” He shook his head. “That’s not a consideration. I doubt there is a Warlord Prince on this side of the Heartsblood River who would be willing to step onto a killing field against Ranon or Talon . . . or Jared Blaed.”

  “So you’re going to give up a third of Dena Nehele to Cassidy?” Kermilla stared at him in disbelief. How could he give up her land so easily?

  “I told you, it’s already done.” Retrieving the document, which she’d dropped beside her chair, Theran set it on his desk. “No point chewing on a battle that’s already been fought and lost. Not when we have to move fast to meet the next challenge.”

  “And what would that be?” She was too upset to try her sexy pout or any other maneuver on him.

  Another odd look. “Convincing eleven other men to stand with me and form your court.”

  Why is that a challenge?

  Before she could ask him, there was a quick knock followed by the bell that signaled that dinner was ready to be served.

  Theran opened the study door and looked at her. “Shall we go?”

  Wasn’t really a question, so she walked out of the room—and swallowed the resentment that bubbled up again when he put a Green lock on the door.

  She needed to form a court, and she couldn’t do it without his help. But once she did, there would be more than one change in Dena Nehele.

  CHAPTER 41

  TERREILLE

  Within three days, most of the people in Dena Nehele, Blood and landen alike, had heard some version of the news that Lady Cassidy had formed a new Territory out of the Shalador reserves and Dena Nehele’s five southern Provinces.

  According to the Warlord Princes in the southern Provinces, Lady Cassidy had stepped up to the line Theran Grayhaven had drawn and showed her courage by forming a new Territory that would live by the Old Ways of the Blood instead of allowing herself to be forced out by the unscrupulous Queen who was Theran’s lover.

  According to the Warlord Princes in the northernmost Provinces, Lady Cassidy had abandoned them without a second thought, splitting a land that had survived the landen uprisings as well as generations of Dorothea SaDiablo’s machinations.

  The Warlord Princes who lived in the Province on the other side of the Heartsblood River—and could wave to the guards now keeping watch along the northern border of Shalador Nehele—said nothing.

  Four days after Shalador Nehele came into being, most of the Warlord Princes who lived north of the Heartsblood River gathered at the Grayhaven estate.

  Most, but not all, Theran thought as uneasiness soured his belly. Ferall hadn’t come, and because Kermilla had burned the one letter Ferall had sent to him weeks ago, Theran didn’t know if there was something he could have done to convince the Opal-Jeweled Warlord Prince that he knew what was best for the people and the land.

  He walked up the steps to the platform and faced the men. Less than a year ago, Cassidy had stood in this same room and selected the men who became her First Circle. Every man who was here now had been in the room that day—and they remembered. He saw it in their eyes.

  Using Craft to enhance his voice, he said, “By now, you’ve probably all heard that Lady Cassidy enticed the Warlord Princes in the five southern Provinces to abandon Dena Nehele and form a new Territory. She did this because her contract to rule as the Territory Queen would have ended in two months and was not going to be renewed.”

  “Why not?” someone in the back of the room asked. “From what I hear, her court is standing strong and there have been no complaints about the Lady herself.”

  “I haven’t heard any complaints either,” someone else said. “Quite the contrary.”

  “Cassidy did an adequate job of starting us on the right path,” Theran said, “but another Lady more suited to Dena Nehele is ready to stand as our Queen.”

  “Who is this Lady?” Hikaeda asked.

  Hikaeda and Elendill came from the Province that bordered the Heartsblood River and would, no doubt, be reporting back to Ferall and the other Warlord Princes who had settled there.

  “Lady Kermilla, who is also from Dharo in the Realm of Kaeleer,” Theran replied.

  Silence.

  Hikaeda looked at his friend Elendill, then back at Theran. “What is it you want from us, Prince?”

  “Lady Kermilla held back from forming a court here out of courtesy for Lady Cassidy, allowing Cassidy to finish her rule here uncontested. Because of that courtesy, Dena Nehele is left without a Queen or a ruling court. Our situation is a little better than it was a year ago, but the need for a Queen to rule our land remains. What I’m asking of you, Hikaeda, is the same thing I asked a year ago—that all of you offer yourselves for the Queen’s consideration, and if chosen, serve in her First Circle.”

  “And Kermilla is the Queen you intend to have rule over us?” Hikaeda asked.

  How many times was he going to have to say it? “Yes, because Kermilla is the right Queen for us.”

  Another silence.

  “Thank you for your words, Theran,” Hikaeda said politely. “Elendill and I will return to our Province and convey your message to the District Queens and the Warlord Princes who were unable to answer your summons. I am certain you will not wait long for an answer.”

  What in the name of Hell did that mean?

  Hikaeda and Elendill turned away from the platform and headed for the door. The other Warlord Princes turned and followed, not even glancing at him to confirm that this meeting was over.

  He wanted to call them back, wanted to demand some kind of answer. But there was nothing he could say to them right now—and apparently, there was nothing they wanted to say to him.

  CHAPTER 42

  TERREILLE

  “Library, library, library.” Ranon set those three letters on the stack marked for Gray to handle. Only a week had passed since the official creation of Shalador Nehele, and the mail coming in for Queen and court had tripled.

  The day had turned cold and snowy, with a wind that cut like a mean-tempered bitch. Cassie was tucked in for the afternoon and he was the escort on duty, so he’d offered
to sort the mail since Powell had more than enough to do right now. It wasn’t a job he enjoyed, but he didn’t mind it either, and doing something productive for the court made him feel less guilty about being warm and comfortable today while other members of the First Circle were out in that white misery fulfilling their own assignments.

  “Request for a loan to repair a printing press and open a print shop and bookbindery.” He frowned at that letter for a moment, then put it in Gray’s stack. “Request for lessons with the Protocol instructors. Well, Gray can deal with that too.”

  Then he hesitated and wondered if they were dumping too much on Gray, especially since he was the First Escort and his first priority was taking care of the Queen.

  “We really need a Second Circle to assist the First Circle,” he muttered. The problem was paying a Second Circle, although Powell had hinted they could afford to bring in a few more people to work for the court. Well, for the time being, they would do the best they could with what they had.

  Could a Sceltie learn to sort mail?

  While he pondered what the dogs might be able to do with the reading skills they had, Dryden tapped on the door and said, “Prince Ferall is asking to see you.”

  “Me?” When Dryden nodded, Ranon set the unsorted letters at one end of the big meeting table. Nothing really confidential in the stacks he’d sorted so far, but he used Craft to make a layer of witchlight over the papers, effectively preventing anyone from reading them. “Send him in.”

  Ferall entered the room, still wearing his heavy winter coat and a shapeless hat.

  He didn’t sense any shields around the man, but Ranon instinctively put a skintight Opal shield around himself under his clothing, just in case. A warrior like Ferall usually held on to his outer gear when he figured he’d have to leave in a hurry—and that usually meant after splattering the walls with blood.

  He smiled and took a step forward as if he didn’t see the fury in the other man’s eyes.

  Then Ferall grabbed two fistfuls of Ranon’s shirt and slammed his back against the wall.

  “You self-serving son of a whoring bitch,” Ferall snarled. “Got what you wanted so you just let the rest of us flounder, is that it?”

  Clamping his hands around Ferall’s wrists to prevent a grab for his throat, Ranon snarled back, “What in the name of Hell are you talking about?”

  “You. This.” Ferall shook him. “Didn’t we work hard enough, try hard enough? Couldn’t you give us a chance before you cut us loose? I almost had a life. Damn you to the bowels of Hell, Ranon, I almost had a life! A widow with two young children, a boy and a girl. Lost her husband to one of those twisted bitches a few years back. Had the courage to let me into her life and into her bed. Let me be around her children. You know what that means, Ranon. You know.”

  Yes, he knew. And he understood now about those special gifts Ferall had purchased for Winsol.

  Ferall leaned in, and despite the shield, Ranon could feel his chest muscles bruising under the pressure of the other man’s fists.

  “I never had much of a home when I was young, and nothing you could call ahome since I was fifteen. Do you know what it feels like to settle into a place and not have everyone look at you with fear in their eyes because they’ve gotten used to you, gotten used to the idea that you’re there to protect them as well as be an instrument of the Queen’s will? Do you know what it feels like to be with a woman who cares about you? To have a boy waiting to see you at the end of the day to play a game of toss before dinner or have a little girl snuggle up next to you wanting you to read her a story? Do you?”

  “I know,” Ranon said quietly. And he did know about that particular dream. He was hoping to have those same things with Shira someday.

  “Then why?” Ferall pressed him harder into the wall. “You bastard! Tell me why!”

  “Let him go.”

  For a moment, Ranon wondered why Vae’s snarled words sounded so strange. Then he looked toward the door and thought, Oh, shit.

  Cassie stood there, her red hair flowing down her back and her feet planted in a fighting stance. One hand held that club she’d used to defend James Weaver and his family back in Grayhaven. Vae stood beside her.

  Both witches snarled at Ferall.

  Pushing away from Ranon—and giving him a last knock into the wall in the process—Ferall took a step toward Cassidy, measured the wild look in her eyes, and took a step back.

  “Why didn’t you give us a chance to prove ourselves before cutting us loose like that?” Ferall asked, his voice ringing with frustration and lost hope.

  “We weren’t trying to cut anyone loose, Prince Ferall,” Cassidy said.

  “Then why set the line at the Heartsblood River?”

  She must have heard the same leashed pain in Ferall’s voice that he did because she lost her defensive anger and stammered, “It’s a natural boundary, and we didn’t want to be greedy.”

  Oh, the look of frustrated disbelief on Ferall’s face.

  Pulling off his hat, Ferall slapped it on his thigh and roared, “Well, Hell’s fire, woman! For just once in your life, be greedy!”

  The club slipped from Cassidy’s suddenly limp fingers and almost conked Vae on the head. Cassidy stood there with her mouth hanging open, clearly shocked by the idea of being greedy.

  It took her a long moment to gather herself. “If you’re not comfortable having your family live under Kermilla’s hand, you can relocate, move to a village on the other side of the river. There is plenty of room.”

  “I could do that,” Ferall agreed. “But what about the other eleven Warlord Princes who live in that Province? What about the people in the towns and villages that I’ve been ruling on behalf of the Queen? What about the farmers who don’t want to leave land that’s been held in their families for generations? What about them, Lady? What should I tell them when I pack up my family and move across the river?”

  Ranon watched Cassidy turn paler and paler until her freckles were the only color left in her face.

  Come on, Cassie, he thought. Step up to the line.

  He couldn’t nudge her, couldn’t urge her. She didn’t ask for his opinion. Didn’t even look his way for some kind of sign. Her eyes stayed on Ferall.

  Then Cassidy, Queen of Shalador Nehele, squared her shoulders and quietly said, “You’re right, Prince Ferall. So many people should not be asked to leave their homes. But one man should not make such an important choice for so many.” She swallowed hard. “So this is my decision. Go home, Ferall. Talk to the other Warlord Princes. Talk to the District Queens who rule in your Province. If, on behalf of themselves and the people they rule, the majority of them want to break from Dena Nehele and join us as part of Shalador Nehele, you will all be welcome.”

  Keeping his eyes on Cassidy, Ferall called in a sheet of paper and held it out. “How about all of them?”

  Ranon leaned against the wall for support. Hell’s fire, Mother Night, and may the Darkness be merciful. Ferall had come with the document in hand.

  Cassidy got paler, if that was possible. But she stepped up to the line. “In that case, welcome to Shalador Nehele. Prince Powell?”

  “Lady?”

  Powell stepped into the room. Must have gotten a sense of trouble and been hovering in the hallway. He wasn’t a fighter, but if it had come down to a fight, Ranon would have locked with Ferall and Powell would have gotten Cassie out of the room.

  “Please review the document Prince Ferall has brought. Then make a copy of it to add to the documents being preserved for us at the Keep.”

  “It will be my pleasure, Lady,” Powell said. “Prince Ferall? If you would come to my office?”

  Ferall studied Cassidy for a moment. “Thank you, Lady. For all of us, thank you.” He followed Powell out of the room.

  The moment Ferall was out of the room, Ranon leaped toward Cassie, grabbing her before her legs buckled. He pulled out a chair. She collapsed into it.

  “Head down, darling,” he
said, holding one hand between her shoulder blades as she pressed her forehead against her knees. “Just breathe now. That’s a girl.”

  “Ranon? What did I just do?”

  “You gave a strong man the possibility of a good life.” She’d done a great deal more than that, but he figured she wasn’t ready to hear all of it.

  When she pushed up, he rubbed her back to soothe and comfort. She had a little color in her face, but she looked like she’d had the wind knocked out of her.

  He felt the same way. “You want some tea or brandy or something?”

  “Yes, yes, and yes.”

  Suddenly realizing that Vae had been unnaturally quiet, he looked at the Sceltie, who was staring at the club Cassie had dropped. He closed his hand over the club and vanished it. A Sceltie who knew her Craft probably wouldn’t have any trouble burying a club even when the ground was frozen.

  As he helped Cassie to her feet, he said, “Come on, Vae. You deserve a treat too.”

  *Yes.*

  Vae definitely sounded grumpy. Well, he’d be grumpy too if he’d come that close to being conked on the head.

  He escorted his two Ladies to the Ladies’ parlor. Within moments, Birdie, Frannie, Elle, and Maydra were all there, fussing over Cassie and Vae. The second time he got stepped on, he took the hint and retreated downstairs to the parlor used by the court.

  By the time he’d poured himself a second brandy, he felt steady enough to consider what had happened—and what it meant.

  They had Ferall on their side. Mother Night, they had Ferall, one of the most savage fighters in Dena Nehele. And they had Hikaeda, Elendill, and Rikoma, along with the other eight Warlord Princes who lived in that Province. And they had that land. That would change a lot of things, because that Province ran from the Tamanara Mountains to the western border. As the largest Province, it also meant that, landwise, Dena Nehele and Shalador Nehele were now equal in size. And the addition of those twelve Warlord Princes serving under Cassie’s hand meant their fighting weight was equal or better to anything Theran could send against them.