The Lion of Senet

by Jennifer Fallon

  “We will be leaving Avacas tomorrow and returning to our court on Kalarada,” the queen announced into the silence, assuming a regal air once more. “As for you, young man,” she added, turning to Dirk, “the only advice I can offer you is that you be careful. Belagren and Antonov both have great plans for you. Rather ironic, don’t you think, that he is Morna Provin’s son? I believe the Goddess has a sense of humor, after all.”

  The queen turned her back on them and walked the length of the echoing ballroom without waiting for a response. Alenor hesitated for a moment, giving Dirk a look that was full of bitter disappointment, before she followed her mother.

  As soon as the door closed behind the queen and the princess, Antonov turned on Belagren.

  “I want you gone. Take your Shadowdancer and go back to your Hall.”

  “And the boy?”

  “I will think about it.”

  The High Priestess looked at him for a moment, perhaps calculating how far she could push him. In the end she bowed her head. “As your highness wishes.”

  “Dirk, I want to see you in my study. Now.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Antonov nodded brusquely and left them alone. Belagren watched him leave with a thoughtful expression before she followed.

  Once Belagren was out of earshot, Marqel turned to Dirk with a smile she could no longer hide. “That was quite a scene, wasn’t it?”

  Dirk glared at her through his bruised and puffy eyes. “Don’t even speak to me, you lying little bitch.”

  “Temper, temper, my lord.”

  “Do you know what you’ve done, Marqel?”

  “Oh, yes,” Marqel assured him. “I know exactly what I’ve done. The question is, Dirk Provin, do you?”

  PART FIVE

  A CHOICE OF EVILS

  Chapter 64

  Johan Thorn was escorted through the palace to Antonov’s private study on the ground floor, with a guard so large he was actually flattered. They marched him through the palace in chains, their hands resting nervously on their swords, as if they expected an invasion force to leap out from behind the drapes at any moment. His escort stopped in front of the impressively gilded doors of Antonov’s private audience chamber. The captain of the guard knocked and opened the door without waiting for an answer. Johan didn’t see much of the room, as he was surrounded by a wall of soldiers. They took him straight through to the terrace beyond.

  The Lion of Senet was waiting for him. The second sun had set, and the terrace, which looked down over the manicured gardens, was bathed in red light. Waiting with Antonov were Barin Welacin, Ella Geon, his sister Rainan, who refused to meet his eye, a number of Welacin’s thugs and Dirk Provin. Dirk looked as if he’d recently been beaten, his shirt torn and splattered with blood. On a small table near Rainan, a scroll and inkwell were laid out, as if waiting for a scribe. Three prisoners, a man, a woman and a boy, were on their knees in front of Barin, their heads covered by black hoods. Johan glanced around suspiciously as the guard fell back. The High Priestess was conspicuous by her absence. That made him hope a little. It was unlike Antonov to undertake a gathering like this without his paramour present. Had they had a falling out, or was that too much to wish for?

  “Ah, if it isn’t the long lost King of Dhevyn,” Antonov announced. “Welcome, your majesty!”

  “What’s going on, Anton?”

  “We’re having a reunion, Johan. I decided we should all get together, like one big happy family, and have a little chat.”

  “You know I won’t tell you anything.”

  “Yes, well I thought of that,” Antonov conceded. “And then the Goddess smiled on me and delivered these three into my care.”

  He waved his arm at Barin, who pulled the hoods from the heads of the three prisoners. Johan’s heart skipped a beat when he saw them. Reithan was bruised and battered, but that was hardly surprising. They wouldn’t have been able to take him without a fight. Tia looked unharmed, but her eyes were desperate. The boy he didn’t know, but he looked terrified.

  What the hell are Reithan and Tia doing here? He closed his eyes for a moment, to calm his racing heart. Following my orders,he reminded himself. Oh, Lexie, my love. What in the name of the Goddess possessed you to send Reithan and Tia to Avacas as my executioners?

  He pushed away the wave of despair and looked at Antonov with the blandest expression he could manage.

  “We’ve been down this road before, Antonov. You didn’t get anything out of me the last time you killed innocent men in front of me, so what makes you think I care what happens to these three?”

  “Well, for one thing, none of them is innocent,” the Lion of Senet said. “And please, don’t insult me by pretending you don’t know who they are.”

  Dirk took a step forward. “Eryk has nothing to do with this, your highness.”

  “Then he shouldn’t have tried to help them escape,” Antonov replied, without looking at Dirk.

  The boy whimpered, his eyes begging Dirk for help, but there seemed nothing the Provin boy could do to aid him.

  “But who are these two?” Dirk persisted. “I’ve never seen them before, your highness, and I can promise you Eryk is not connected with them.”

  Johan thought the young man looked like he’d rather be anywhere but on this terrace, witnessing Antonov in all his malicious glory. Interestingly, though, two of the guards had moved around the railing until they flanked the Provin boy. They weren’t being obvious about it, but if Dirk tried to intervene, they were close enough to stop him. Does Antonov not trust his young protégé?

  “This one is Reithan Seranov,” Barin told him. “He’s wanted for drug running, murder and a dozen more crimes against both the Goddess and the state. The girl is Tia Veran.”

  Ella Geon gasped at the announcement. Johan looked at the Shadowdancer for a moment, wondering what she was feeling. Had she grieved for her stolen child all these years, or simply been annoyed that her plans had been foiled?

  Antonov turned to her and smiled. “Did I forget to mention that I’ve found your long-lost daughter for you, my lady?”

  “But ... how? ...” Ella stammered. Johan had never seen her so lost for words. He couldn’t imagine what she was feeling. If she was feeling anything. He’d always had his doubts about Ella Geon and her ability to comprehend normal human emotions.

  “It’s the Goddess’s work,” Antonov said with utter conviction. “You see, Johan, you’ve never believed in the Goddess, yet every day she answers my prayers. The fact is, I don’t need you to tell me where Neris is any longer. I’m sure if I ask her nicely, young Tia here will tell me everything I want to know.”

  “My father is dead!” Tia spat angrily. “She killed him with her lies and her damn drugs.” Tia glared at Ella. There wasn’t a single scrap of affection in her demeanor, no longing for her mother—just pure, unadulterated loathing.

  “You didn’t raise her with any manners, did you, Johan? Hardly fair to the poor girl. You should have thought about her future. What if she wants to take her place in society someday?”

  “Stop playing games, Anton,” Johan said wearily. “You’ve brought us all here for a reason, so get to the point. I tire of the sound of your voice.”

  “You’ve more to hear yet, before I’m done, Johan Thorn,” the prince assured him. “And we’ll start with your sister here.”

  Rainan was flanked by two of her own guardsmen. One of them, Johan noted, was Alexin Seranov, Reithan’s cousin and their main contact on Kalarada. He also looked as if he’d been in a fight.

  “What more can you take from Dhevyn that you have not already?” Rainan asked bitterly. For the first time she met Johan’s eye. He was shocked at how much she had aged since he’d seen her last. The strain of ruling Dhevyn, while her daughter was held captive in Antonov’s court, had taken its toll on his sister.

  “Her crown,” Antonov replied. “I’ve grown weary of you Thorns and your continued defiance. And don’t bother looking so offended, Rain
an. You’ve paid lip service to Senet for years, but you’ve always harbored resentment toward me, and your little declaration earlier this evening has merely confirmed what I always suspected. I do not intend to stand for it any longer. I have decided that you will abdicate the throne in favor of your daughter. She and Kirshov will be married immediately and my son will act as regent until Alenor comes of age.”

  “I’ll do no such thing!” Rainan declared hotly. “Alenor is only fourteen! I will never allow it!”

  “You will, your majesty, one way or another. You will sign the abdication voluntarily and live,” he said, pointing at the table where the document was waiting, “or I will have you killed, and Alenor will inherit the throne anyway, without the benefit of your guidance. Think about it.”

  “You wouldn’t dare kill me! In front of all these witnesses?”

  “What witnesses? Nobody who is not firmly in my camp will leave this terrace alive, Rainan, you can be certain of that.”

  Johan glanced across at Dirk. The young man hadn’t moved. His expression was carved in stone. Will you leave this balcony alive, Dirk Provin? he asked silently. I’m damn sure I won’t.

  “Sign it, Rainan,” he said, turning to look at his sister. “Give him what he wants.”

  “How can you say that, Johan!” she demanded. “How can you let him do this to Dhevyn?”

  “I’ve not been able to stop Antonov doing what he wanted with Dhevyn since the Age of Shadows.”

  “You see, Rainan, the years have finally taught your brother to accept reality. It’s a pity he didn’t come to this realization sooner.”

  Johan laughed bitterly. “The only thing I’ve come to realize, Anton, is that you are a deluded fool. You think you control your own destiny, but you’re nothing more than Belagren’s puppet. You always have been.”

  “I serve the Goddess.”

  “There is no Goddess,” Johan said wearily, as he had so many times before. “You believe in a fantasy. Belagren never had a vision. She ordered you to kill your son because Neris Veran told her when the Age of Shadows would end. Why do you think she wants Neris back so badly?”

  “Neris Veran is a heretic. The most diabolical heretic that has ever lived. I want him back, Johan, because I will not allow him to spread his evil, pernicious heresy any longer. He suborned you, he suborned half of Dhevyn with his lies, and I will see him destroyed for it.”

  “I suppose that’s easier than admitting you murdered your own child for nothing.”

  Antonov was losing patience with them. He turned on Rainan again. Alexin and the other guardsman had closed in on their queen, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords. Antonov’s men were also poised to strike.

  “Will you sign?” Antonov demanded.

  Rainan hesitated for a long moment. Then she shook her head. “I can’t turn my back on Dhevyn just to save my own life.”

  “You must, Rainan!” Johan urged. “Don’t make the same mistake I did. Don’t let your pride stand in the way of your life.” Antonov seemed content to let Johan argue his case for him and made no move to stop him talking. “Alenor needs you. Dhevyn needs you.”

  “So that’s it?” she asked, her eyes filled with tears. “I should just stand aside and let Antonov have Dhevyn?”

  “Stand aside and give your daughter the benefit of your counsel,” he said. “The alternative is to leave her alone and grieving—a child trying to rule Dhevyn with Kirshov Latanya by her side and the Lion of Senet looking over her shoulder.”

  Rainan lowered her eyes and was silent for a long time. Then she braced herself and looked squarely at Antonov. “Do I have your word that my daughter will be unharmed?”

  “You do.”

  “And I will be permitted to remain on Kalarada with her?”

  “Until you try to undermine my authority,” he agreed.

  Rainan spared Johan a rueful glance before nodding reluctantly. “Then I will do as you ask.”

  “The documents are ready and waiting, your majesty.”

  Rainan stepped up to the table and picked up the quill. She glanced over her shoulder at Johan for a moment. He nodded silently. Then, with a look of bitter shame, she turned her back on him and signed away her kingdom.

  When she was done, she threw the quill down and turned to face Antonov. He treated her to a beaming smile. “There! That wasn’t so hard, was it? I’m sure you’ll come to see the wisdom of your decision. Now, that just leaves us with one other small matter to take care of.” He turned to smile warmly at Tia. “Where is your father, my dear?”

  Johan was astounded. With the stroke of a pen Antonov had once again stolen Dhevyn from her rightful monarch, and yet it seemed to mean nothing to him. Already his attention was on other things.

  “I told you already,” Tia snarled. “He’s dead.”

  “Yes, I heard you the first time, Tia, but I don’t happen to believe you.”

  “I don’t care what you believe. It doesn’t alter the truth.”

  “Feisty little thing, aren’t you? You must get that from your mother. Your father was a rather spineless man, as I recall.” Antonov suddenly turned to Dirk. “What do you suggest, Dirk? Do you think our young friend here would succumb to the same sort of pressure we tried on Johan?”

  Dirk stared at the Lion of Senet but didn’t answer him.

  “No suggestions? You were much more forthcoming about how we should deal with Johan Thorn. Still, I’m sure you’ll have something to say eventually. Now, back to you, my dear. What will make you tell me the truth, I wonder?”

  “I’ve told you the truth.”

  “Yes. It’s quite irritating the way you keep insisting on that. Would you break under torture?”

  “There’d be no point,” Dirk said, finally finding his voice.

  Antonov spun around to face him. “Ah! The Butcher of Elcast finally speaks! Why do you say there would be no point?”

  “People will say anything under torture,” Dirk told him. His voice was flat and emotionless. “And besides, if you truly believed physical torment worked, you’d have stretched Johan Thorn over a rack while we were still on Elcast.”

  Is Dirk faking this nonchalance, Johan wondered, or is he truly becoming Antonov’s accomplice? He expected as much from Wallin Provin’s issue, but it would kill Morna to see her son like this.

  Antonov smiled. “You really are too damn clever for your own good, aren’t you? So what do you suggest then, Dirk? If you’re so certain a red hot poker won’t achieve the desired results, what do you recommend?”

  “You might consider the possibility that she’s telling you the truth.”

  “Considered and discarded,” the Lion of Senet announced. “Neris lives. Why else would Johan have gone to the trouble of taking his child from the Hall of Shadows, if not for fear of the power such a child would give the High Priestess over him?”

  “Maybe you’re the one they’re trying to fool.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Dirk glanced at the prisoners for a moment, then turned his gaze on Johan. He couldn’t read what was going on behind those steel-colored eyes.

  Dirk turned his attention back to Antonov. “Perhaps that was their plan all along. To make you think he lives.”

  “They continue to insist that he’s dead.”

  “Do they? Think about it, your highness. Suppose Neris Veran really did die in that fall from the cliff. What better way to confound you than to allow the rumor that he survived to spread? You’ve spent how many years, how much money, trying to find him? Johan Thorn has made you complicit in his scheme. Your every effort to find Neris feeds the rumor that he lives. And what better way to make you think he lived than to rescue his child for him? For that matter, you’ve no proof other than her name that this is even the right girl. She could be anybody.”

  Johan stared at the boy in amazement. He’d known since the trip to Avacas on the Calliope that Dirk Provin had an exceptional mind, but it never occurred to him how excepti
onal it was until that moment. Dirk wasn’t smart like Neris. Neris was a mathematical freak, but he had little or no talent dealing with anything that couldn’t be added, subtracted, multiplied or divided. Dirk’s intelligence was more than the freakish ability to work out ridiculous calculations in his head. The boy had a level of political acumen that was truly frightening. He can’t be more than sixteen years old and he’s playing on Antonov’s fears more effectively than I’ve ever seen anyone manage it before. And doing it in a way that might actually spare Tia’s life. Johan wasn’t fool enough to think that either he or Reithan would see this night out. But if Tia could somehow manage to survive it...

  “That’s so damn clever, I almost wish I had thought of it,” he remarked, trusting that his denial would further strengthen Dirk’s argument.

  “Why?” Antonov demanded with a frown. “What would you hope to achieve by such a ruse?”

  “Because it keeps you occupied,” Dirk answered before Johan could. “If you want proof, your highness, it’s all around you. If Neris Veran really did know when the next Age of Shadows was due, don’t you think the first person he’d tell would be Johan Thorn? And if Thorn knew something that important, he wouldn’t be here now, your highness, he’d have been shouting it from every rooftop in Senet and Dhevyn for the past fifteen odd years.”

  “You expect me to believe that Johan Thorn would be willing to die, rather than reveal his lie?”

  “You sacrificed your son because you believed in your cause, your highness,” Dirk reminded him. “Why is it so hard to believe that Johan Thorn is prepared to die for his?”

  Antonov seemed dumbfounded by Dirk’s logic. Johan glanced at Reithan and Tia, who were staring at Dirk in confusion.

  “Do you believe in the Goddess, Dirk?” Antonov asked him suddenly.

  “I believe Johan Thorn doesn’t have the information you want, your highness, because it doesn’t exist.”