The Shadowed Throne

by K J Taylor

  “Oh, it was Arenadd’s own fault,” Saeddryn growled. “The pair of them, falling out like that over a woman, for gods’ sakes. Ye’d think they were a pair of boys.”

  “Stop it,” said Torc. “That’s enough, Saeddryn. I did what I could to protect Caedmon, and you, but if you keep this up, then there won’t be much more I can do. Push the Queen too far, and she’ll have you arrested.”

  “An’ how will she do that?” said Saeddryn. “Send ye after me? Master of Law? Don’t make me laugh.”

  “Then she’ll have you killed,” said Torc.

  “She doesn’t have it in her,” said Saeddryn. “I’m not arguing about this any more, Torc. That girl is in our way. She’s in Caedmon’s way, an’ the Night God’s way, an’ she’ll die for it. If I can’t get her ousted by the people, then I’ll kill her myself. That’s a promise.”

  “And what if she strikes first?” asked Torc, showing no surprise over his wife’s declaration. “Have you thought of that?”

  “If she does, I’ll leave,” said Saeddryn. “Caedmon will need me, an’ Arddryn as well.”

  “And me?” said Torc. “What will I do? You know I never wanted to get involved in this, but if you do anything, they’ll come after me, too.”

  “Run, then,” Saeddryn shrugged. “If ye can. Ye are Master of Law, aren’t ye? The guards will look the other way. Make a plan, but don’t tell me what it is. It’s better if I don’t know where ye go to hide.”

  “Fine,” said Torc. “But Saeddryn . . .”

  She glared at him. “What?”

  “It doesn’t have to be this way. You know it doesn’t.”

  “It does,” said Saeddryn. “Arenadd’s gone, so now it’s up to us to do the Night God’s will, and she doesn’t want that little bitch on the throne. An’ if ye won’t do this for the Night God’s sake, then do it for yer children. What sort of future will they have, with that half-breed ruling here?”

  Torc looked away. “I wish . . . gods, I wish Arenadd were still here. If we could only talk to him, find out what he was really thinking . . .”

  “He wouldn’t have told us,” said Saeddryn. “He didn’t trust me any more.”

  “But he trusted me.” Torc looked up at the ceiling high above, where a round hole had been made to let the moon shine in. Just now, it let in a thin shaft of sunlight, which touched his head and highlighted the grey hairs there. “Where is he, Saeddryn? What happened to him?”

  “It’s been months,” said Saeddryn. “Wherever he is, he isn’t coming back. It could be he faked all this. Fled the country an’ left us behind. Or the half-breed’s story is true, an’ he’s dead.” She turned to look at the statue, with its single, glittering eye. “Wherever he is, it’s up to us now. We’re the only true Taranisäiis left, an’ the North’s future is in our hands.”

  Torc followed her gaze. “Yes,” he said softly. “It’s up to us. Arenadd is with the Night God now.”

  “With the Night God, now . . . the Night God now . . . he’s with the Night God . . .”

  The words echoed in the Temple, and out of the mortal world, into a place of absolute blackness and freezing cold. Faith carried them there, into the ears of the only one who could hear them.

  In the empty void where she lived, the Night God listened and did not smile. He is with me now, she whispered.

  Pale and bare and primal, she looked down at the crumpled figure that lay at her feet.

  You are with me now, she said.

  There was no ground visible here in the void. Everything in every direction was black and featureless. Still, Arenadd was lying down, on a surface colder than ice.

  The last shards of pain had not yet left his body. His mind swam. He vaguely heard the god’s words, but barely understood them. He could feel himself shaking violently.

  Will you stand now? the Night God asked.

  Arenadd heard her now, but he said nothing. An instant later, the pain hit him again. The memory of his body jerked and spasmed, and a faint groan escaped him.

  Will you stand, Arenadd?

  Arenadd curled in on himself, like a dying animal, trying vainly to protect himself from an agony that could not be fended off. His teeth clenched, and he tried not to cry out.

  Will you stand?

  The pain faded again, and Arenadd slumped.

  Speak to me, the Night God commanded.

  Arenadd would not look at her. He stared away, at the darkness, and mumbled a word.

  “Laela . . .”

  No, Arenadd, the god’s voice said sharply. She is gone now. Forget her.

  Now Arenadd tried to get up. He dragged himself into a kneeling position and clutched at his head with both hands. Even here, the fingers on his left hand were twisted and crippled, and they shook. “No,” he gasped. “No, she’s not . . . she’s not gone. She’s out there. I’m gone. I’m the one who’s gone. I’m . . .” He screamed as the pain ripped into him again. “I’m gone! Dead! Dead and gone, dead and . . .”

  Stop this, the Night God said sharply. You cannot escape into madness again. Face reality. Rise, and stand with me, where you should be.

  “No,” Arenadd moaned. “I can’t. I won’t.” He curled up again, on his side with his back to her, and mumbled to himself. “There is no Arren, Arren is dead, there is no Arren . . . there is no Arenadd. No, no, Arenadd’s gone, he’s dead and gone. Laela watched him die, and cried for him, she did . . . there is no Arenadd . . .” His babbling broke off into another scream, and he started to convulse.

  STOP THIS! The Night God’s voice rose higher, and sharper, cutting through the madness in his mind and putting a stop to his crazed wanderings. Come back to me.

  Arenadd jerked again, silent now, and finally went still.

  “Let me go,” he whispered. “Please.”

  No.

  “Then let me be mad,” he said. “Let me go insane. I can’t take it any more, I can’t . . .”

  No, the Night God said again. You betrayed me, and you have been punished. Now you will stay with me, and we will watch over our people together.

  Arenadd didn’t dare move, or even look at her. “For how long? How long . . . master?”

  Forever.

  Arenadd smiled his old humourless smile, which was now twisted by pain. “The gods . . . the gods are the slave collar that never comes off. The collar that doesn’t clamp onto your body, but your soul. I should . . . I should write that down. I always did have a way with words.” He laughed weakly.

  Rise, the Night God insisted.

  This time, Arenadd obeyed. He pulled himself to his feet, and walked shakily to stand by his master’s side. His mind had already begun to clear, and despite his efforts to hold on to it, the madness drained away, forcing him to face the cold reality around him. He was dead, bodiless, and imprisoned for his treachery. He had turned his back on his master, and now he was paying the price. Laela’s life for his own.

  He stayed beside his master, grim and silent, and together, they watched the aftermath of the argument in the Temple. Torc and Saeddryn parted ways, both visibly troubled. Torc left the Temple, but Saeddryn stayed to pray. Soon, the words of her prayer reached into the void for both of them to hear.

  Arenadd tugged on his pointed chin-beard. “What a joke,” he mumbled. “Praying for guidance. From you. I want to go mad again.”

  I told you once that I hear every true prayer, said the Night God. Now, you see the truth of it.

  “Oh yes. Saeddryn always loved to pray,” said Arenadd. He looked out at the small figure of his cousin, and his scarred face twisted again, this time with a mixture of equal parts malice and suffering. “Fool,” he hissed.

  Her faith in me will guide her, said the Night God, ignoring him. She will do as I wish her to, even without hearing my voice as you did.

  “Laela will stop her,” said Are
nadd. He knew he shouldn’t speak like this; he was only tempting her to torture him again, but he didn’t care any more. Nothing that happened to him mattered now.

  The Night God did not look at him. My will shall be done, and Saeddryn will do it. The half-breed will die, and she will die soon.

  Arenadd stared at her, with an expression of hopeless bewilderment. “Why?” he asked softly. “Why are you doing this? Why do any of this? What did Laela ever do to you, or anyone? Why does she have to die? Why did any of them have to die?”

  I am the god of the North, said the Night God. The god of all Northerners. And I will not allow a half-breed Southerner to rule my people. The North will be ruled by its own people, under my blessing. And once the half-breed is gone, and the rightful ruler is on his throne, the South will fall, and Cymria will belong to my people.

  “Power?” said Arenadd. “Is that all you care about?”

  It was all that you cared about once, said the Night God. And all of Cymria knows it.

  “Yes, yes,” Arenadd muttered, turning away. “The Dark Lord Arenadd, all power-hungry and cruel. I’m everybody’s favourite bedtime story for scaring the kids. But you’re a god. Why do you even care?”

  Because my people are all that matter to me, said the Night God. They will be free. The half-breed will be destroyed. That is my will.

  “Oh yes?” Arenadd spat. “And how will you have it carried out, without me to run around doing it for you?”

  She stared at him, her moon-eye blank and bright, and told him.

  Arenadd listened, and his own eyes widened. “Oh no. Oh, gods, no. Laela . . .”

  The Night God said nothing more after that, but the two of them continued to watch the affairs of the living, and, in time, he saw Laela again. His daughter, alive and ruling after him, just as he had planned. But for how long?

  And even though he knew it would make his master angry again, even though he knew it was hopeless, Arenadd kept his eyes fixed on her and whispered the words he wished she could hear.

  “Kill her, Laela,” he whispered. “Kill her now, before it’s too late.”

  4

  Laela’s Move

  Having Ravana as a bodyguard made Laela a little uncomfortable at first—something that wasn’t helped by the fact that he clearly disliked Oeka and didn’t like her getting too close. But before long, she came to appreciate having him around and to feel safer as well. He kept everyone and anyone who came to see her at a safe distance—close enough to talk comfortably but far enough to be out of stabbing distance. He would search every room before she entered it, to make sure it was safe, and had loud arguments with Inva in Amorani over which one of them would taste the Queen’s food. In the end, they agreed that they would both do it, and Laela privately decided that mealtimes were a lot more entertaining when they began with her two attendants fighting over who would sample each dish first.

  Every night, Ravana would stand guard outside Laela’s bedroom, apparently disinterested in using the quarters she had provided for him. If he ever slept at all, she never saw him do it—he was with her every waking moment, and she never left her bedroom without finding him by the door. It didn’t seem to bother him at all.

  The rest of the nobility all seemed to dislike him the moment they laid eyes on him, which gave Laela some childish satisfaction. In the meantime, though, she had more important things to worry about, and with Ravana by her side, she felt confident enough to make a move.

  Saeddryn stayed close to Aenae, as she always did these days, and eyed the Queen cautiously. “What can I do for ye, my lady?”

  They were in one of the courtyards between the towers, where a little garden provided herbs for both the kitchens and the infirmary. Laela sat down on a stone bench and gestured at Saeddryn to do the same. “I got somethin’ to ask about.”

  Saeddryn stayed on her feet. “Ask, my lady.”

  “Before the King died, I was bein’ instructed about the Night God,” Laela began carefully. “It was always the plan that when the time came, I’d be put through the womanhood ceremony an’ made a proper Northerner.”

  “Yes?” Saeddryn’s tone was neutral.

  “My instruction’s done,” said Laela. “It’s past time that ceremony was carried out, don’t yeh think?”

  “So it’s being said.”

  “The full moon’s comin’ soon,” said Laela. “The Wolf’s Moon. That’s the time when I oughta be put through the ceremony an’ given the tattoos.”

  “That’s a matter for the Wolf priestess,” said Saeddryn.

  “I know. But you’re the High Priestess,” said Laela. “The Moon Priestess. Yeh know perfectly well this can’t happen unless yer there to oversee things.”

  “Perhaps.” A slight smile showed on Saeddryn’s face.

  Laela’s own face hardened. “I need this, an’ as Queen I expect to see yeh do yer duty the way my father would’ve wanted. Go back to the Temple an’ organise it. Do it today.”

  “Is that an order?”

  “Yeah, it’s an order.” Laela resisted the urge to slap her. “Listen, Saeddryn—I’m Queen now, understand? An’ there’s not a damned thing yeh can do about it. I’m prepared to let the past be the past an’ just move on. I want to let yeh be, an’ I will if yeh don’t give me a reason not to.” She softened her voice as much as she could, almost pleading now. “What I want is the same as what you want. Peace for the North—Tara, I mean”— she corrected herself—“an’ happiness for its people. There’s no reason why we can’t work together for that, Saeddryn. We’re both Taranisäiis, ain’t we? Let’s be the way we should be. Tara needs us to be workin’ together. Help me do it, Saeddryn.”

  Saeddryn listened impassively. “Ye sounded like yer father, Laela. He’d’ve been proud.”

  “Thanks.” Laela couldn’t help but feel good about that.

  “I . . . too . . . care about Tara,” Saeddryn went on. “I’ve only ever wanted the best for us. I fought beside yer father in the wars, an’ I remember it every time this eye twinges. I gave it up t’help our people, like my mother before me.”

  Laela looked steadily at her, waiting to see what she would say next.

  “Understand,” Saeddryn went on, “all I’ve ever done was for Tara. All my life, that’s how it’s been. I serve the Night God now, an’ she an’ me are the same that way. We’re both one-eyed, an’ we both love Tara before life itself.”

  A memory rose up in Laela’s mind, of a cold, ice-white face with a blank hole where an eye should be. Kill her, Arenadd. Kill her now.

  She shivered, and hatred made her throat tighten.

  “I fought in Tara’s name,” said Saeddryn. “I fought for the Night God, as I still do. An’ for that reason, I will not let the ceremony happen.”

  Laela fought to keep calm. She picked a sprig of griffintail from the garden bed behind her and shredded it slowly while she spoke. “I’m Queen of Tara. Queen of all darkmen. I can’t rule unless I’m really one of them.”

  “Perhaps, but I will never let ye become a woman in my Temple. The Night God does not want ye, Laela.”

  Kill her, Arenadd. “Don’t make me do this, Saeddryn. I swear, don’t make me do it.”

  “A half-breed can never be in the Night God’s heart,” Saeddryn said flatly.

  Oeka rose, tail lashing. “Do not insult my human, traitor.”

  Aenae hissed at her, but the dark brown griffin didn’t back away, and he didn’t risk making any other move.

  “It’s not my decision to make,” said Saeddryn. “A half-breed belongs to no god. If this ceremony went ahead, the Night God would be angry. Terrible things would happen.”

  “Terrible things’ll happen if it doesn’t,” said Laela. “An’ trust me, they’ll be happening to you.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  Laela stood up and looked her in the ey
e. “Yeah. It’s a threat. Good job on spottin’ that one, eyepatch. Yeh might think yeh know about the stars an’ the phases of the moon an’ what tattoo goes where, but I got the real power here, an’ trust me—push me too far, an’ the Night God ain’t gonna save yer sorry hide.”

  Saeddryn bared her teeth. “How dare—?”

  “Oh, I dare all right.” Laela flung the shreds of herb aside. “I dare. Girl I might be, an’ half-breed I might be as well, but I’m still King Arenadd’s daughter, an’ if yeh give me one good reason, I’ll deal with yeh the way he should have. An’ trust me . . . that wouldn’t be pretty. But I’m sure yeh coulda guessed that part.”

  Saeddryn bowed stiffly. “My lady.”

  Aenae stayed behind as his human walked off. He took a threatening step toward Laela and Oeka. “Be warned,” he snarled. “Touch my human, and you shall die.”

  Oeka spread her wings, hissing. “You and your human shall do as you are commanded. It is not you who rules this Eyrie, Aenae.”

  He raised his own wings, feathers fluffed out until he appeared to double in size. “You do not frighten me, hatchling. I could kill you with a single talon.”

  Oeka lowered her head and closed her eyes. An instant later, Aenae flinched and backed away, shaking his head dazedly.

  If griffins could smirk, Oeka would have done it now. “You have felt my power before, Oh Mighty Carved-From-Tree-Stumps. What you felt then was the slightest touch, and my magic increases by the day. Challenge me again, and you shall feel your own mind burn away from your skull.”

  Aenae had had enough. Defeated but still bristling with rage, he turned and loped after his human.

  Laela couldn’t find the enthusiasm to snigger at the big griffin’s humiliation. She slumped back onto the bench and rubbed her forehead. “Gods damn it. I knew she was gonna say no.”

  Oeka, still full of bravado, tore a deep hole in the ground with her talons. “They must be killed,” she said. “Both of them. And soon.”

  “No.”

  “The longer they live, the more trouble they will bring you, Laela. Kill them now, before it is too late.”