THE SHADOWLORD

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  Aradia grinned, imagining her serious husband frolicking in snow.

  "I was told that Lake Gundersen was beautiful that time of year, that peasants would be skating there. I'd no idea what skating was, and when they explained it to me, I thought they were teasing. I couldn't believe people could actually walk on the water, so I went there to see for myself." He frowned. "I had no idea I was being followed."

  "You sensed no danger?"

  "The four men trailing me had been given circlets of iron to wear beneath their hoods. The iron blocked their thoughts."

  "I'll have to remember that," she teased and smiled at his snort. "Snow is beautiful, isn't it?"

  "You've seen it?" he asked, surprised. "When?"

  "When I was ten or so. We were on our way to Odess and our ship was blown off course during one of their damnable storms. They were hospitable enough, but we were always on guard."

  "You went to the Court?"

  "As Defense Queen, my mother was invited as a guest of King Broeland's. I, too, got to see skaters on Lake Gundersen."

  "A most remarkable sight..."

  "So what happened next?"

  "Not used to frigid weather, I got cold," he said. "I started looking for a tavern and found one a quarter of a mile from the lake. I went in and ordered coffee." He stopped when her smile widened. "Aye, they'd never heard of such a thing, but the innkeeper said if I wanted something warm, he'd bring hot buttered rum."

  "Oh, my..."

  "I saw the four men enter the tavern, but I paid them no mind since I 'picked up' no danger from them. One spoke to the innkeeper, but I had no reason to think anything of it. When the owner brought me the drink, he set down the mug, then left without asking for money. I thought that strange, but the aroma coming from the mug was so enticing, I was more interested in that."

  "Oh, warrior!"

  "As you can surmise, there was more than just butter and rum in the Prophet-be-damned thing. At first I thought it was the liquor's potency that made me light-headed. I kicked myself for having slurped it like a green youth. But then my tongue went numb, and the lights dimmed. When the men got up from their table and headed toward me, I knew I'd made a mistake." He shifted to a more comfortable position. "I began praying it wasn't a fatal mistake."

  "So you wound up in Diabolusia."

  "Shackled like one of the tomb-builder's slaves. I fought like a weretiger, but I had no power because of the iron bands on my wrists. Although I gave one man a broken jaw and knocked the front teeth from another, I was taken into the mine and put to work."

  "How long were you there before we met?"

  He cupped her cheek. "The luckiest day of my life, aziza."

  "Mine, too."

  Jaelan's heart thudded. Looking into his bride's eyes, he knew she told the truth. He brought his fingers to his lips, kissed them, then placed the tips against her mouth. "Four years of hell stopped for me that day."

  She took his hand and held it to her chest. "Glad to have been of service, Milord."

  He lightly scratched his nails along the hollow of her throat.

  "Was King Hasani looking for you during that time?" she asked.

  "He thought I was dead. That was one of the reasons he didn't sign the trade agreement. He also thought the Viragonians were lying. He may be many things, but a liar he is not, and cannot abide it in others."

  "So he was pleasantly surprised when you returned from the dead?"

  "I sent word I was among the living when I reached Odess so I wouldn't scare the hell out of King Hasani or Tarsis when I reappeared. 'Lui was with me. When we were ten miles from Abbadon, a column of Death Lords in full battle armor approached, led by Tarsis. I thought the old man was going to break my ribs, he hugged me so tightly."

  She grinned. "Did the King give you a hug, too, warrior?"

  "Aye, then ordered a national holiday and gave me a hundred acres of land just outside Basaraba for when I retire."

  "You didn't want land in Uadjit?" she teased.

  He rolled his eyes. "No more than the rotting pecker disease."

  She giggled, then frowned as a thought came to her. "Why didn't the King punish Gehenna for what he'd done?"

  "I couldn't prove it was Gehenna. But no one hated me--hates me--as much as he and his foul brother."

  "Not even the people of Uadjit?"

  "Where would they get money to hire abductors? No, it was Gehenna, and he as much as admitted it about a week after I returned."

  "What did he say?"

  Jaelan's eyes turned cold. "He asked if I'd enjoyed my stay in Diabolusia. He said it was a shame I'd not ventured into the pits that day, for the water was high and the time had been right for me to make my peace with the Wind."

  Aradia drew in a quick breath. "What did you do?"

  "What could I do? He's powerful. He has the ear of the King, even though Hasani despises him. The entire might of the Brotherhood is behind him and Jahannum. The King dare not provoke them." A muscle worked in his jaw. "But one day I'll slit that bastard's evil throat, and when I do, I'll rid the world of at least one child molester."

  Before she could advise against it, Jaelan rolled onto his back, wincing as savaged flesh came into contact with the bedcovers. Despite his slight intake of breath, the pressure of lying on his wounds did not seem to bother him overly much.

  "You are as strong willed as you are stubborn." Aradia sat up in bed, crossing her legs beneath her so she sat parallel to his right side.

  Jaelan put his hand on her bare thigh and caressed her. "I intend to complete my husbandly duties this eve, wench, so be prepared." He ran his hand along her flesh. "As soft as a newborn's rump..."

  "How many newborn rumps have you stroked?"

  He smiled. "Would it surprise you to know I've even diapered one of those rumps?"

  Her eyebrow quirked upward. "One of your offspring, Milord?"

  He shook his head, then turned his palm up to her, obviously pleased when she took his hand. "She's one of Tarsis' grandchildren. Minerva is her name."

  Looking at his strong sword hand, Aradia noticed an odd puckering in the palm. She traced the round shape with her index finger. "What caused this?"

  "I've no idea. I've had it all my life."

  She lifted his hand to get a better look. "It appears to be a burn...a brand, even."

  "A slave mark, likely put there before I was sold to Samiel."

  Bringing his palm to her lips, she kissed the scar, then settled his hand in her lap. "An evil thing to do to an infant."

  "Slavery is evil in itself, aziza."

  "Do you see yourself as a slave?"

  The back of Jaelan's hand rested at the juncture of her thighs, and his thoughts turned to the silken tresses beneath the cotton nightgown. He ignored her question until she repeated it, then looked up at her, frowning.

  She cocked her head. "What ails you now, warrior?"

  "I'm horny and have no..."

  Aradia released his hand. She stretched out beside him, her feet dangling over the side of the mattress, and began tugging at his izars.

  "What are you doing?" he whispered, swallowing hard.

  "Save your strength for this evening," she said, revealing his turgid staff to the morning air. "Let your lady see to your needs."

  Closing his eyes as her wondrous lips enclosed him, Jaelan gave himself into her tender care. "Aye, wench, I am a slave...a slave to your insatiable hunger."

  She continued with the task at hand.

  A while later, Aradia snuggled as close to her husband as she could, their noses touching. She lightly kissed his lips. "Hungry?"

  Jaelan sighed. "I could eat my weight in fried potatoes."

  She bussed his nose, then threw back the covers. "I think healthier food is more in order this morn."

  Jaelan frowned. "Healthy as in what, wench?"

  "You'll see." She stripped off her nightgown and turned her back to him.

  Jaelan tried to push up in bed to get a better vie
w of his wife's lovely body, but the pull on his wounds made him lie down again. He sighed.

  "There'll be plenty of time for that," she reprimand as she looked over her shoulder. "Get better quickly and you'll have any of what you see--and all of what you don't."

  He chuckled, closed his eyes, and soon drifted off.

  * * * *

  "He likes fried potatoes with peppers and onions," one of the Death Lords said. "Two mutton chops, a large--"

  "Too much grease and not enough vitamins," Aradia remarked, then told the man what she wanted.

  A deep scowl settled on his rugged face. "He'll not appreciate such food, Milady. Only children--"

  "Healthy children, I'm sure. Until I'm positive he's well enough to cram all that grease into his belly, he'll eat a lighter repast."

  The Death Lord exchanged a look with his comrade, but said nothing. One went in search of the food Aradia ordered, while the other remained to guard.

  "What is your name, warrior?" Aradia asked.

  "Sadiki, Your Grace."

  "Thank you for your diligence. I appreciate your loyalty to Lord Jaelan."

  The man stood straighter. "It is my duty, Your Grace, to watch over the Shadowlord." His eyes cut to hers. "And it is my pleasure to serve him and you."

  Aradia inclined her head, then went back into Jaelan's chambers. Before she could cross to the bedroom, she heard low voices. She reopened the door to find Tarsis speaking to the guard.

  "Will you join us while we break our fast, Lord Tarsis?" she asked.

  The old warrior shook his head. "I've already eaten, Your Grace, but I'd enjoy sharing a cup of coffee with you and Lord Jaelan."

  Aradia stepped aside to allow the warrior entry. She indicated a chair. Slipping to the bedroom, she looked in on her sleeping husband, then shut the portal.

  "Is he still abed?" Tarsis asked.

  "I'll wake him when the food comes. He needs to be up and about."

  Admiration lit the retired man's eyes. "That was my intent when I came here."

  "I guessed as much. Now, tell me about the fools in Uadjit."

  Tarsis' left brow shot upward. "You come to the point--"

  "I want to know how much of a threat those people are to my husband. I believe there's more to what happened with the magistrate's son than Jaelan's telling me."

  "What did he tell you?"

  "He said he cut the boy's throat. He--"

  "He was no boy. He was a grown man of thirty and five summers."

  "All right," Aradia acknowledged. "He told me the young man had been overhead plotting an assassination of the King."

  Tarsis stuck his fingers under his headpiece and scratched his temple. "Aye, well, there was more to it than that."

  "I thought as much."

  Sitting forward in his chair, Tarsis clasped his hands and let them dangle between his spread knees. He sighed. "There's a rebellion brewing here in Rysalia, Milady. There are those who despise the King and greatly fear the power the Brotherhood of the Domination is building. They believe if the Brotherhood is not stopped, it will soon be too powerful to contain."

  "I agree."

  "There's a rebel leader the people call Asim, the Protector. He and his band of men have been secretly undermining the power and position of the Brotherhood for many years. For just as many years, Jaelan has been after this troublemaker. We've been able to apprehend a few of Asim's followers, but no one close enough to the murderous leader, himself, to lay a trap. Whoever Asim is, he has powerful connections at Abbadon, for those we catch either wind up dead or go missing. How that's happening is anyone's guess."

  "He's caused much trouble for the Shadowlord, then?"

  "Missing shipments of grain...monies diverted from the Temple coffers...slaves freed...women destined for the convent at Galraith abducted and taken out of Rysalia." Tarsis shrugged a thick shoulder. "Aye, the rebels have been a thorn in Jael's side for many years."

  "And the magistrate's son was one of those thorns?"

  "The man was not guilty of what he had been accused."

  Aradia stared at him. "Jaelan killed an innocent man?"

  Tarsis nodded.

  "But--"

  "Jael had no say in the matter. It was Gehenna's doing."

  "To execute the magistrate's son?"

  "One of Lord Gehenna's informants told him he knew of a plot to kill King Hasani. He said it originated in the home province of the Shadowlord and wondered if Lord Jaelan might not be involved with its planning. When Lord Gehenna discovered it was the Shadowlord's cousin who was involved, he sent Jaelan to handle the matter."

  "Was that a normal way of dealing with such a situation?"

  "The Death Lords carry out punishments. It's Jaelan's job to see that it's done, but not take the blade into his own hands."

  "I think I understand. So Gehenna wanted to make sure the people of Uadjit had one more reason to fear and hate Jaelan Ben-Ashaman."

  "And when the condemned man's wife became part of the punishment, it was left up to the Shadowlord to see that evil was done."

  "Why couldn't she have kept her mouth shut?" Aradia sighed. "Surely she must have known she would incur the wrath of the Temple by admitting her guilt."

  "Would you stand idly by and allow your man to be sent to his death and not protest his innocence?" At Aradia's look of denial, Tarsis spread his hands. "Neither did the girl. She was with child and wanted the babe to live. When given the choice between death and having her tongue removed, she chose the lesser of the evils."

  "Either way, the punishment was cruel beyond need."

  "And designed to cause further ill-will amongst the people of Uadjit toward Jaelan."

  "He acts as though it was no matter of import to him, but I sense otherwise."

  Tarsis smiled. "You're beginning to know Jaelan, Milady. He's not the ogre he's made out to be."

  Chapter 4

  * * *

  By the time Tarsis and Aluino came to visit, Jaelan was sitting on the settee, reading a report from one of his Death Lords. That he seemed comfortable brought relief to the old warrior's face.

  "I hear you were up and about, walking the corridors as though you own them," Tarsis remarked.

  "I took my lady for a walk," Jaelan said. "She was growing tired of lying abed."

  Tarsis rolled his eyes. "More likely, she was tired of being laid upon."

  "Are you here for a reason or to annoy me?" Jaelan asked.

  "There's trouble in Yulcuf," Tarsis replied. "The rebels raided a caravan transporting olive oil to Basaraba. We've been ordered to go after them."

  "I volunteered to lead the Death Lords," Aluino said, "but since the shipment was destined for the Temple, Gehenna wants you to go."

  "He's in no condition to ride," Aradia snapped from her seat at the vanity. When the three men looked at her with varying degrees of admonishment on their faces, she clamped her lips shut. She went back brushing her long hair, studying the men in the mirror.

  "When is the troop to leave?" Jaelan asked.

  Tarsis folded his arms. "Tomorrow morning. Will you be up to the trek?"

  Not sparing his wife a glance, Jaelan nodded. "I'll have my strength back by then."

  "Not if I have anything to say about it," Aradia mumbled.

  Tarsis chuckled. "Going to drain him dry this evening?"

  Despite Jaelan's warning growl, Aradia smiled. "He's fairly dry right now, Sir Tarsis."

  Jaelan gasped. "Wench!"

  "Oh, ho, Ardy!" Aluino said, slapping his leg. "You've made the deadly Shadowlord blush!"

  "Out!" Jaelan hissed and stood. "Both of you! Now!"

  Tarsis strolled to the door, turning to give Aradia a wink before pushing Aluino ahead of him.

  Aradia aside laid her brush. "Do you really think you're well enough to lead your men?"

  Jaelan took the brush from the vanity top and gently pulled the bristles through her long tresses. "Do not question my decisions in front of my men, aziza. It's n
ot your place to do so." His hand stilled and he caught her eye in the mirror. "Do you understand?"

  The chastisement pricked Aradia's ego. She stared into his eyes and sensed their coldness, despite the gentleness of his tone. She nodded, knowing she had overstepped her boundaries. Though she knew he cared for her, perhaps deeply, he was a warrior first, a husband second.

  "While I'm gone," he said, returning to brushing her hair, "you're to stay in my quarters with Kafele to serve you. I'll post men at the door and leave orders that no one's disturb you."

  "You fear for my safety?"

  A frown marred his handsome features. "I'll go to the King before I leave and ask his protection of you. Gehenna will not bother you, but he's not the only enemy I have at Abbadon."

  "What if Orithia sends for me?"

  He handed her the brush and moved away. "Do you truly desire to see that witch, or are you asking if I intend to curtail your freedom?"

  Aradia got up from the vanity bench. "You believe Orithia means me harm?"

  "She means me harm. You?" He shrugged. "If you get in the way of her having revenge on me, you could get hurt."

  "And you think I would not do everything within my power to keep her from obtaining that revenge?"

  He studied her for a moment. "What are you planning, aziza?"

  "Let me go with you to Yulcaf." It annoyed her that, even as she spoke, he started shaking his head. "Why not?"

  "It will be dangerous."

  "Life is dangerous, warrior. If I can get word to my friend Phillipa, she can get word to my mother and Orithia's."

  "How do you propose to get word to your friend? I told her to take the others and leave Rysalia. I made sure she did."

  "Through the Daughters of the Multitude," she replied.

  "There are no witches--" he began, but at her grin, stopped. "Those women have infiltrated Rysalia?"

  "They've been here for as long as the Brotherhood has, warrior. There's no place on this world where you'll not find a Daughter."

  His frown deepened. "And they will help you?"

  "Aye, because we Amazeens are members of the Multitude. Orithia is doing something the Amazeen will not countenance, so the Daughters will stand with us on the issue. My greedy sister intends to Join with your king and that's against the laws of the Council. To marry a foreign royal would be disastrous. She's not thinking of our tribe. She wants the power her mother holds in Amazeen now and doesn't want to wait to inherit it. The Daughters will understand and act accordingly."