THE SHADOWLORD

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  Nefousi nodded. "Lord Jaelan was willing to suffer the lash of the executioner in order to keep you, Milady. But neither he nor Sir Tarsis reckoned on the evil that would accompany it."

  "Of what evil do you speak?"

  The other servant returned the room. Over her arm hung an outfit similar to the one she wore. She brought it to the bed and handed it to Nefousi.

  "This is Daria," Nefousi said. "She is the one who overheard the warrior and the Harem Master. Tell the Lady what was done to the Shadowlord."

  Daria glanced at the door, then spoke in a voice so low, Aradia had trouble understanding her and asked the girl to repeat what she'd said.

  "They dipped the barbs of the whip in Maiden's Briar and it has made Lord Jaelan very ill."

  Aradia knew of the poison. She covered her mouth with a trembling hand. "How ill is he?"

  "I heard just now that he is delirious with the sickness." Daria looked at Nefousi. "I also heard Lord Gehenna sent that red-haired viper to Lord Jaelan's chambers with a bowl of the brew to rub into his wounds. Thanks be to the Prophet, Sir Tarsis discovered what she was about and kicked her ass back here before she could do her dirty work."

  "Ah," Nefousi drawled. "So that is why the whore came rushing back here as though the hounds of the Abyss were nipping at her filthy heels!"

  Fear for Jaelan made Aradia shudder. "What are they doing for him?"

  "There is nothing they can do," Daria said. "Lady, he has the power to overcome this, but it will take time. There is no need to fear for his life, if that is what you are thinking."

  "Aye," Nefousi agreed. "He was bitten by a ghoret and survived the strike."

  Aradia had heard of the poisonous viper and knew no mortal man could live if injected with the venom. That Jaelan had, reassured her. Standing, she threw off the sheet and reached for the pantaloons Nefousi extended toward her.

  "No one must know of this," Daria warned. "If the Harem Master discovers we told you, we will meet the same fate as the Shadowlord."

  "Don't worry about me telling anyone." Aradia stepped into the pantaloons, pleased at their comfort as she tied the drawstring at her waist. She took the tunic. "I must speak to my sister and--"

  "Do not tell her!" Nefousi gasped, pulling the tunic from Aradia's grip. "She hates Lord Jaelan more than Saahira!"

  "I have no intention of discussing Jaelan with my sister, but I must find out what she intends." Aradia jerked the tunic from Nefousi. "If it is her intent to cause my husband harm, I vow Orithia will remain here the rest of her natural life!"

  Chapter 13

  * * *

  He was in agony.

  His flesh felt as if it were boiling. The poison had spread like wildfire through his body. Though he could not move, he could speak, but his words made no sense to those who tended to him. Spoken in a language none could translate, his rambling, incoherent sentences contained hisses of certain names: Meridia, Gehenna, Jahannum, Saahira.

  "Those who have hurt him the most," Tarsis mused.

  Sweat glistened on his face and neck. At times, he opened his eyes to stare helplessly across the room, lost in pain and hovering between consciousness and deep sleep. He gave no outward sign he either understood or was aware of those around him. The high fever cracked his lips, and his breath turned raspy.

  * * * *

  "His body needs to be cooled," Aluino suggested.

  Tarsis shook his head. "But as I said earlier, we dare not rub the venom into his wounds."

  "Then take him to the baths and lay him in the water. Would that not wash away some of the poison?"

  Tarsis thought a moment, then acted, pushing aside Arcan and gently turning Jaelan onto his back. The moment the delirious warrior's glazed eyes widened, Tarsis knew he had caused unspeakable pain. "I am sorry, son, but this may help you."

  Lifting his charge as tenderly as possible, Tarsis carried him from the chambers, Jubil and Arcan behind, Aluino walking in front to clear the way. Kafele brought up the rear. It took time to traverse the stairs to the second floor. Those they passed stepped aside, fear and respect for the warriors giving them ample room.

  The baths were full of men laughing and horsing around in the lapping waters. As soon as they saw Tarsis, their joviality stopped. The room became deathly quiet as men climbed out of the pools and wrapped towels around their waists.

  "How is he?" one of the older Death Lords asked.

  Tarsis recognized the man as a friend and stepped into one of the baths. "Has word reached you of what was done at the Temple?"

  "We know of his punishment."

  "Do you also know the bastards dipped the barbs of the whip in Maiden's Briar?" Aluino asked.

  Grumbles of surprise undulated over the men. A few stepped forward to ask why such a thing had been allowed.

  Tarsis lowered Jaelan into the water. "Think you the King knows of it?"

  Rashidi Thole, the oldest member of the Tribunal, came to stand by the pool. "The King has been told." He looked at the Shadowlord and shook his head. "This is not the way I ever envisioned becoming Chief Tribunalist."

  Tarsis looked up sharply. "What of Abasi Ksathra?"

  "Alas," Rashidi said, "he met with an--accident--while shaving this morn."

  Since the members of the Tribunal were not allowed to shave their thick beards, Tarsis raised a questioning brow.

  "A matter of a blade across the throat, if rumor holds true."

  "Couldn't have happened to a more deserving bastard," Aluino replied.

  "It doesn't pay to do more harm to the King's man that what is lawfully ordained," Rashidi said.

  "No doubt Ksathra took it upon himself to lace the water with Maiden's Briar," Tarsis snorted, "so no other criminals will be investigated."

  Rashidi shrugged. "My guess is there will be no further questioning of the matter."

  "So Jahannum and his rat-faced sibling Gehenna will bear no censure," Aluino said.

  "Do they ever?" Jubil asked.

  "Their day will come," Tarsis said between clenched teeth.

  * * * *

  For a time, the pain in Jaelan's back intensified as warm water washed over him. Sucking in a tortured breath, he nearly slipped into unconscious until the burning sensation lessened. He had no idea what was happening to him, but the lapping waves tickling his cheek brought sensation to his face for the first time in hours. He managed to lick his dry, bleeding lips.

  As full awareness flowed back to his brain, he became attentive to the words being said around him. He listened in a fog, then began to understand the savagery of his punishment. Though the intense burning had dissipated, a brutal pain still lay like a heavy cloak on his back. The motion of the water rocked one particularly deep gash against Tarsis' bony hip, and the pain grew unbearable.

  "Hurting me," he croaked, wondering if the old warrior had heard.

  "Tell me what to do, son," Tarsis replied.

  "Sit..."

  Tarsis looked at Aluino. "Let's sit him in the water."

  The maneuvering almost cost Jaelan consciousness once more, but as soon as he sat in the chest-high water, the pain again lessened. Tarsis sat beside him and pulled Jaelan's head to his shoulder, smoothing back the long, sweat-soaked hair.

  "Is this too much strain on your back, son?" Tarsis inquired.

  "No..." He started to ask for water to be poured over his shoulders, but before he could, Aluino and Jubil joined them in the bath, scooping up water and letting it flow down his ravaged flesh.

  "Does this help?" Aluino asked.

  "Aye."

  For more than an hour, men took turns stepping into the pool and pouring water over the wounds. When Jaelan began to shiver, his teeth clicking together, Tarsis held up a hand.

  "We need to take you back to bed, Jael. Think you up to it?"

  "My b...belly is cramping, T...Tarsis..."

  "It will." Tarsis got clumsily to his feet, his old bones creaking like a windmill. He would have scooped Jaelan from the water,
but Aluino waved him aside. "Then be gentle with him, warthog!"

  "As if I wouldn't!" Aluino grumbled.

  Gritting his teeth to the return of the pain, but relieved it felt no worse than it had after any of the lashings he'd endured through the years, Jaelan closed his eyes.

  * * * *

  "You prefer that coarse garment to the luxury of silk and suede?" Orithia asked as Aradia joined her in her chambers.

  "I prefer my own clothes, but I'm told they were destroyed," Aradia snapped.

  "Warrioress clothing is certainly not something the men of Rysalia want to see on their women." Orithia put a finger to her lip, walked around her sister, looking at the muslin tunic and pantaloons. "I must admit, you look comfortable."

  "And a lot warmer than wearing transparent silk that leaves nothing to the imagination. Aren't you ashamed of wearing that?"

  Orithia smiled nastily. "When you have a body as beautiful as mine, why would you be ashamed?"

  "Morals, perhaps?"

  "Morals don't always garner a powerful man's notice, Sister, and even when it does, it won't hold his attention for long." She reclined on a lush velvet settee. "Men of authority like their women pliant and rather on the whorish side. Don't you agree?"

  "I wouldn't know."

  "Oh, I imagine you do," Orithia said, reaching for a bunch of grapes and plucking one from the stem. "Weren't you thought a whore when you were captive in Diabolusia?"

  Aradia's jaw clenched, but she refused to take the bait. She sat on an ottoman and regarded her sister. "What is it you hope to accomplish by Joining with the King?"

  Orithia smiled as she chewed the grape. "Power. Wealth. Position. Influence. All the things a queen who wields control behind the throne can have."

  "You expect to be in command of King Hasani?"

  "I do."

  Aradia clasped her hands around her knees. "And you think he will allow this?"

  "I know he will." Orithia tossed aside the grapes. "He already does whatever I wish. And when we are legally Joined, I'll have the status that will make it possible for me to rule him as I see fit."

  "You have no desire to leave Rysalia? To be rescued?"

  The smile left Orithia's pretty face. "I'm not stupid, Sister. I know how difficult it will be for you and the others to free me at present."

  "The others?"

  "Phillipa, Euryleia, Okyale. How many more are with you?"

  Aradia leaned back, her feet leaving the floor. "Would it shock you to know there are no others? That no one will be coming to your aid when you tire of this game of 'Control the King'? That you'll have to remain here for as long as there's life within you?"

  Orithia fanned away the suggestion. "I know better. My mother will see that I'm returned to Amazeen. I'm a princess--my life is valuable."

  "Not as valuable as you seem to think, else why has no ransom demand been sent to Amazeen, nor an amount of sovereigns suggested to free you?"

  A tick formed in Orithia's cheek. "What are you saying?"

  Aradia unclasped her knees and put her feet on the floor. "You're as much a prisoner here as any of the other women. You, though, will be at the beck and call of that detestable, overweight bully of a King. I have no doubt you'll hold his attention longer than most, for you're unlike any woman he's ever known. He'll tire of you eventually and move on to a younger, more beautiful woman with supple thighs and creamy breasts, and you'll be relegated to the confines of this silken prison along with the others."

  "That won't happen!"

  "I came here to help you escape, but I see the futility of trying. Abbadon is a fortress unlike anything I've ever encountered, and getting out will be a thousand times more difficult than getting in."

  "I'll not spend every day of my life in this miserable hovel!" Orithia said. "I'll make Hasani take me with him when he travels, and he travels often. Do as I command and I'll see that you accompany us. You can get word to Phillipa. With a large enough contingent of warrioresses, we can overpower any Rysalian excuse for a soldier!"

  "What of the Death Lords?" Aradia inquired. "What will they be doing while their King is trekking about the countryside?" She locked gazes with her sister. "What of the Shadowlord? Do you expect him to sit idly by while you escape?"

  "Jaelan Ben-Ashaman will meet his fate before the rise of the new moon!"

  "And how will that be accomplished?"

  "You really think me a fool, don't you? Why would I tell the wife what I have planned for her malevolent husband?"

  A vein throbbed in Aradia's head. As her anger rose, her worry over Jaelan grew stronger. "If you think I'll sit back and let you hurt him, you'd best think again, Sister."

  "Sulaimon!" Orithia shouted, coming to her feet. "Sulaimon!"

  The dark man came running. He looked about, as if expecting danger to be lurking from the volume of the Amazeen's shriek.

  "Take this treacherous bitch back to her quarters and keep her there!" Orithia snarled. "I do not wish to see her ugly face again!"

  "Enjoy the power while you have it, Orithia," Aradia said as she allowed Sulaimon to grip her forearm. "It won't be yours forever."

  "No more so than that evil demon will be yours!" Orithia screamed, the force of her fury turning her face into a hideous mask.

  Sulaimon did not give Aradia a chance to reply. He drew her down the corridor and to her room, his menacing bulk uncompromising. When they gained her chambers, he opened the door and pushed her none-too-gently inside. "You'll not help Lord Jaelan by giving away your intentions to his enemies, anide."

  "Are you one of his enemies?"

  Sulaimon glared. "No. Like the Shadowlord, I serve the King."

  "Then help me. Get word to him for me."

  "The King?" Sulaimon asked, his brows shooting up.

  "Aye."

  "You don't want to do that."

  "Why?"

  "He would not see you anyway."

  "Why?" Aradia repeated.

  "Nor would Lord Jaelan want you to garner the King's notice."

  Aradia thought about that for a moment. Jaelan might indeed be furious that she'd dared to seek audience with the King. She bit her lip, then looked beseechingly at Sulaimon.

  "No," the big man said. "You will stay here and out of the Pale One's notice. For now, she has the ear of the King and her venom is worse than a thousand angry asps."

  "I came here to help her escape," Aradia confessed, "but now I intend to see she never leaves this place."

  Sulaimon grinned. "You would have had a hard time helping her leave, anide. Best you realized that before trouble brewed."

  "It wasn't the trouble that concerned me," Aradia said, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "I am Amazeen, and my allegiance is to my tribe, but..." She raised her chin. "When one of my tribe is threatened through no fault of her own, that allegiance can be put aside without regret."

  "Is not the Pale One one of your own, anide?"

  "Not any more. She wants wealth and power, position and authority. In Amazeen, she would have risen to the position of domestic queen, but that wasn't enough for her. Here, she thinks to rule an entire people."

  Sulaimon shook his head. "That will not happen, but allow her to have her fanciful dream. The paying for it might prove to be costlier than she realizes."

  PART II

  Chapter 1

  * * *

  Jaelan opened his eyes on the fifth day of his recuperation and wished he could fall back into the unfeeling depths of sleep. His back burned, and when he moved, the wounds opened and oozed liquid that gave off an unpleasant odor. Trying to lever up his body proved to be far too difficult, so he collapsed on the mattress and tried calling for help with his raspy voice.

  "I am here, Milord." Kafele rushed to the bed. "What do you need?"

  "Get...up."

  "I am not sure Sir Tarsis--"

  "Get up," Jaelan insisted and tried to rise.

  Kafele pulled the cover from Jaelan's legs. Carefully, he put his hands
on Jaelan's shoulders and helped him lift to his knees.

  "Now that's a sight," Tarsis joked from the doorway. "Seeing the great and powerful Shadowlord with his bare arse in the air is too much for these eyes."

  "Leave me alone, you ugly gnome," Jaelan grumbled. He managed to shift his right leg from the bed, his toes just reaching the floor as he moved toward the edge of the mattress.

  "He's feeling better," Aluino quipped.

  Jaelan sucked in his breath as he dragged his left leg from the bed and gained his feet. He stood, wobbly-kneed and dizzy, and had no choice but to sit down else he knew he'd fall on his face.

  "What exactly are you trying to accomplish?" Tarsis inquired, strolling to the bed.

  "I have to piss," Jaelan snapped. "Is that all right with you?"

  "And you were too proud to ask for a chamber pot?"

  "I need to get up. I need to regain my strength."

  "True, but another day or two in bed--"

  Jaelan shook his head, then wished he hadn't. Sour bile rose in his throat. He realized the burning pain in his back would have a friend in a brutal headache, already flashing at the edges of his vision.

  "No bed, eh?" Aluino sighed. He looked at Tarsis. "My guess is he was going to slither down to the seraglio and fetch the winsome Aradia."

  "Want my wife," Jaelan declared in the tone of a petulant child. Again, he stood. He swallowed the fluid flooding his mouth and took a step, cringing as the gashes crisscrossing his back came to vivid, brutal life.

  Aluino chuckled. "Big, bad Shadowlord. Gonna stride across the room to--"

  "Beat your ass," Jaelan growled, glaring at his friend.

  "Tell Sulaimon to have the Lady Aradia ready for her husband," Tarsis instructed Aluino. When the Diabolusian made to protest, the old warrior raised a warning hand. "Do as I say, warthog."

  Aluino snapped his mouth shut. He took one look at Jaelan, cautiously making his way toward the bathing chamber, and shrugged.

  Kafele walked beside his new master in case he needed assistance. Halfway across the room, Jaelan stopped and turned. "Who are you?"