Shalador's Lady

by Bishop, Anne

  Everyone but her.

  Even when he said things like that—and justified saying things like that—she hadn’t understood his enthusiasm in her bed had to do with getting his own relief and nothing to do with a commitment to take care of his Queen.

  Did he enjoy taking care of Kermilla?

  She couldn’t think about that. She did her best to ignore the other Queen by spending time in the garden with Gray and working with Powell to send out messages to the surviving Queens in Dena Nehele.

  At least one good thing had come from Kermilla’s visit: Theran was too preoccupied with her to pay attention to the fact that Cassidy was reaching out to the other Queens in Dena Nehele.

  Ranon stared at the special flower bed Gray had made for Cassidy—the plants were similar to ones found in Dharo but were native to Dena Nehele. The common ground, Gray called it.

  He’d been coming out here every night since Theran had given Lady Kermilla an open-ended invitation to stay at Grayhaven. Shira was acting peculiar in a way that unnerved him. He loved the woman with everything in him, but he didn’t forget he was sleeping with a Black Widow, and there was a reason why that caste of witch was feared.

  “Thought I’d find you here,” Talon said.

  He half turned toward the voice, but didn’t speak for a minute. “Something is draining the heart out of Cassidy.”

  “Oh, I think we’ve all figured out what that something is,” Talon said. He kept walking, but he lifted his chin to indicate the stone storage shed where Gray used to live because he was too frightened to enter the house.

  His heart pounding, Ranon glanced at the house before drifting toward the back of the shed. What did the Master of the Guard want to say to him that couldn’t be said inside the house?

  “What . . . ?” he began.

  Talon raised his left hand. The two missing fingers were a reminder that this man had not lived a soft life—even after he became demon-dead.

  A minute later, Archerr, Spere, and Shaddo slipped behind the shed. A minute after that, Bardric and Cayle joined them.

  “Burne, Haele, and Radley are providing a presence in the parlor this evening,” Talon said. “Archerr, you’ll relay instructions to Burne and Haele. Cayle, you’ll keep Radley informed.”

  *I’m your second-in-command,* Ranon said, using a tight spear thread to direct the words only to Talon.

  *I know what you are,* Talon replied sharply. *You have the task of keeping Gray and the Black Widow leashed. And yourself.*

  Shit. *You don’t ask for much.*

  *If you don’t have the balls for it, tell me now.*

  Stung by the verbal slap, Ranon didn’t answer.

  “What about Powell?” Archerr asked.

  “I’ll keep the Steward informed,” Talon said.

  *What did Powell say?* Ranon asked, wondering if anyone else had noticed a slight hesitation in Talon’s reply.

  *Later.* “Our Queen is distressed. The visitors are the reason. We need to find out why.”

  “How does Kermilla know Lady Cassidy?” Spere asked.

  “I can’t see that the two of them have anything in common except caste,” Shaddo said.

  “She reminds me of a carrion eater picking at the bones,” Bardric said.

  Shaddo nodded. “And Dena Nehele is the bones. We’ve seen bitches like her before.”

  “She’s entertaining,” Cayle said. “And she’s false. You can see it in her eyes. What’s she looking for here?”

  Archerr snorted. “Control over the rest of us. What else?”

  “If she did have that control?” Talon asked.

  Ice swept through Ranon, but a steely look from Talon kept him silent.

  The other men shifted their feet and looked uncomfortable. Finally Spere said, “Those escorts aren’t fighters. Got some training—every escort does—but they’re Warlords, not Warlord Princes.”

  Shaddo nodded. “Take them out fast and hard. Have someone coming in behind the others who is strong enough to take out the witch—burst heart and brain with a blast of power that will break her Jewels and finish the kill.”

  Ranon swallowed hard. He thought he’d been the only one thinking along those lines. Apparently not.

  Talon nodded, as if they’d told him what he’d expected. “Not yet. She’s a Queen from another Territory. Another Realm. We made the mistake of not looking for social connections to dark power when Cassidy first came here. Kermilla keeps hinting that she has powerful friends, so let’s not make that mistake again. Cayle, Bardric, you two are least likely to be perceived as a threat, so I want you to spend time with the Warlords who came with Kermilla. Find out what you can about her court and about her connection to Cassidy. They’re not friends, so let’s find out exactly what they are to each other.”

  “We could force open the inner barriers of the lightest Jeweled Warlord and find out everything we want to know,” Archerr said quietly.

  “And become no better than what we fought against all those years?” Talon shook his head. “You don’t do that to anyone but an enemy, and we don’t know yet that these men are enemies.”

  “We know their presence is upsetting Cassidy,” Ranon said.

  “Yes, we know that,” Talon agreed.

  Ranon heard regret—and maybe a little guilt?—in Talon’s voice.

  “When we find out more, we’ll decide what to do about it,” Talon continued. “That’s all. Any information you find out comes to me or Ranon.”

  “And we don’t mention any of this to Theran?” Spere asked.

  Even in the dark, Ranon saw the sadness in Talon’s eyes.

  “We don’t mention this to Theran,” Talon said. “I’m hoping it’s just lust that’s making him stupid, but if he feels the same pull for Kermilla that we feel for Cassidy, we can’t trust him to stand for the Queen he promised to serve.”

  One by one, the men wrapped themselves in sight shields and slipped away until Ranon and Talon were alone.

  “Powell,” Ranon said quietly. “He said something. That’s why you’re giving these orders.” He waited. “What did he say?”

  “He said, ‘It’s starting to feel like old times, isn’t it?’ And may the Darkness have mercy on us, Ranon, I think he’s right.”

  Talon walked away.

  Ranon leaned against the shed, feeling sick.

  It wouldn’t come to that. It wouldn’t. Not while Cassidy ruled Dena Nehele.

  Theran sat in the parlor, happier than he had ever been.

  Kermilla was wonderful, was everything he dreamed a Queen should be. The sound of her voice quenched a raging thirst inside him, and there was a spot on her neck that had a scent that aroused him and yet gave him peace.

  She had been careful not to say anything outright, but she’d made it clear to him that, having come from an aristo family, the training that had honed her innate abilities as a Queen had been far more extensive than Cassidy’s—the kind of training given to someone destined to be a Territory Queen.

  Damn Ranon for stirring everything up so much that the other men were wary about getting to know her. But they would come around.

  Sooner or later they would recognize the treasure that had come to Grayhaven.

  CHAPTER 10

  TERREILLE

  She had to get out of here. Her hands shook, her stomach burned, and dinner was nothing but a foul smell in the toilet. She couldn’t do this again, couldn’t watch this happen again.

  She couldn’t stand to hurt this much again.

  Go. Run. Get away from this place.

  Because this time she might lose someone who truly mattered, and it was ripping her heart out.

  This time, betrayal might truly kill her.

  Ranon stood outside Cassidy’s door, trying to leash his rage because he had to. There was no one else. Theran’s verbal barbs had turned cruel enough to drive Cassidy out of the parlor in tears, so Talon had his hands full controlling Gray and making sure the two cousins didn’t set eyes on each
other before tempers had settled. Powell had walked out of the parlor and locked himself in his office. No one was sure what the man was doing in there, but they were all hoping the worst he was doing was getting stinking drunk. And Theran . . .

  Couldn’t the bastard see that Cassidy wasn’t comfortable around Kermilla? But he kept insisting that Cassidy “do her duty” as a Queen and not leave the other Queen without company—especially since Cassidy was the lower-ranking Queen.

  Damn Grayhaven to the bowels of Hell for slipping the verbal knife in every chance he got. Kermilla was pretty; Cassidy was not. Kermilla was vivacious—the kind of Queen who would appeal to the Blood; Cassidy was there because they hadn’t been given a choice. Cassidy wore Rose; Kermilla wore Summer-sky, which made her dominant.

  Dominant his ass. Sure it gave her a little more power since Summer-sky was one rank darker than Rose, but that was all it gave her. The little bitch was just good at playing people and presenting herself to advantage. At least they had gotten a couple of answers from tonight’s little drama. The four men who had come with Kermilla had all served in Cassidy’s court—and had abandoned a real Queen in order to serve pretty gilt.

  Jhorma had been Cassidy’s Consort. They all agreed they wouldn’t mention that bit of information to Gray. Hell’s fire! What had Cassidy been thinking? The woman couldn’t have been that desperate for a lover to have settled for him.

  You’re here to make sure she’s all right. You can’t do that from this side of the door.

  He knocked. No answer. He knocked harder, certain she was in her suite. “Cassidy?” He turned the door handle. The door wasn’t locked, so he walked in—and caught her pulling back, as if she’d lunged for the door to lock it but didn’t react in time.

  No color in her face except the freckles standing out on milky ice and the dark shadows under her eyes. She stood there, frozen, so he looked around—and saw the trunks. The lids were open, and the trunks were full of her clothes and possessions.

  “What’s going on, Cassidy?” he asked, putting an Opal lock on the door as he closed it.

  “I can’t stay here,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

  “Where?”

  She stared at him and didn’t answer.

  He thought about the past few days and what he had learned tonight. Her former First Circle had broken her court in order to serve another Queen. And now that same Queen had come to Dena Nehele and was making herself very comfortable in the Queen’s residence—and Cassidy was breaking down under the hammer of Theran’s words and his blatant preference for Kermilla.

  Cassidy . . . running.

  He grabbed her arms, and it was only the years of training that kept his savagery controlled.

  “You’re leaving us? Why?”

  “I can’t stay!” Cassidy wailed.

  He shook her and roared, “Why?”

  “Theran doesn’t want me to stay. He wants Kermilla to be the Queen.”

  “Who gives a piss what Theran wants?” Ranon shouted. “Forget him! What about the rest of us, Cassie? What about the eleven other men who are loyal to you and want to serve? Are you going to walk away from us too? Are you going to walk away from Gray? Are you going to walk away from the people who are starting to hope again that a Queen will rule fairly? Are you walking away from all of us because one man wants to hump a little bitch? ”

  She stared at him, shocked, and finally whispered, “You’re hurting me.”

  He eased his hold on her, certain her arms would be bruised black by morning, but he didn’t let go.

  Tears spilled down her pale, pale face. “Ranon, I can’t watch Kermilla take over another court. And it will kill me when Gray starts falling in love with her.”

  Idiot woman. Couldn’t she see that Gray loathed Kermilla?

  He looked at her, really looked, and realized she couldn’t see anything right now—not Gray’s love, not his own loyalty. Nothing.

  He gentled his hands, and forced himself to gentle his voice. “Cassie, do you trust me? As a friend, do you trust me?”

  She hesitated, then nodded.

  “Then listen. Please listen. I’m begging you not to walk away from Dena Nehele.”

  “I can’t stay.”

  If she got to Dharo, they would never get her back. Hell’s fire, if she got to the Keep in her present state, Sadi and Yaslana would never let her come back even if she was willing.

  Then he remembered the last thing Lucivar had said to the First Circle before heading back to Kaeleer: “The Queen comes before anyone else. You take care of her, the rest usually falls into place.”

  Cassidy was focused on getting out, so he would take care of his Queen and get her out—and do his best to take care of Dena Nehele as well.

  “All right,” he said. “I understand. You need to get away from those people. I do understand. But you don’t have to go too far away. I’ll take you back to Eyota, back to the boardinghouse. You didn’t mind staying there, did you? You’re already packed. I’ll take you tonight. Now. We’ll slip out. No one else needs to know until you’re ready for them to know.”

  “I don’t—”

  “You’re the Queen, Cassie. Our Queen, and the Queen’s residence is any place the Queen chooses to live. You don’t want to stay here, you don’t have to stay here.”

  “Gray will worry if I leave without saying anything,” Cassidy said.

  “I’ll tell Shira enough so that she can reassure him. And I’ll come back and talk to him as soon as you’re settled at the boardinghouse. I promise.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’re upset, and rightly so.” Ranon took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He couldn’t force her to stay, but he was sure if he could get her to Eyota, he would buy enough time to convince her that there were people who didn’t care if a face was pretty or not when the woman behind that face was special. “Come with me. Give yourself time to rest and breathe before making a decision. Please.”

  She called in a handkerchief and sniffled into it. “Should I leave a note? It’s proper to inform the Steward and Master of the Guard.”

  She sounded so lost, so wounded.

  He knew it was proper. As the Master’s second-in-command, he should inform Talon at the very least. But if he involved anyone else in the court right now, most likely Cassidy would be talked into staying here—and the next time she decided to run, she wouldn’t delay long enough to pack her things or leave a note. They’d find out about it when Yaslana landed on their doorstep demanding answers.

  “No,” he said. “No one needs to know where you are. Not yet.”

  He hadn’t convinced her, and he didn’t know what else to say. But he could think of one thing to do.

  Using Craft, he closed the lids on her trunks—and vanished them.

  Cassidy stared at the empty floor. “You took my trunks.”

  “I did.” Getting his mouth to smile felt like he was trying to bend stone, but he did it. Or close enough. “I’ll give them back when we reach the boardinghouse.”

  She studied him.

  “What?” he asked.

  She sniffled into the handkerchief once more, then vanished it. “For a moment there, you sounded like Lucivar.”

  He decided to take that as a compliment. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “You’ll talk to Gray?”

  “I will. I hope you won’t be upset if he decides to join you.”

  “Do you think he would?”

  Oh, Cassie. Are you hurting so much you can’t remember that he loves you? “I do, darling. I really do.”

  Ranon and Cassidy slipped out of the house, wrapped in an Opal sight shield to lessen the number of people who might be able to detect her. He trusted her to go down to the gate while he went to the stables to get a horse—praying to the Darkness that she didn’t walk onto the landing web, catch the Rose Wind, and run to the Keep. Riding double to the Coaching station, they rented a small Coach, giving the driver who shoul
d have gone with them a generous tip to watch the horse—and not ask questions.

  Riding the Opal Winds, switching from radial to tether lines whenever needed, they finally reached the landing web on the northern end of his home village.

  And through the whole of the journey, Cassidy never said one word.

  *Grandfather,* Ranon called as soon as he dropped the Coach from the Opal Web and skimmed over the landing web. He could handle a small Coach when riding the Winds, but using Craft and power to hold one steady as it skimmed above the road was an untested skill. *Grandfather!*

  *Ranon?* Yairen sounded muddled. Then the voice on the psychic thread sharpened. *Ranon?*

  *I need help.* He could picture his grandfather pushing himself up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. After all, anyone in their right mind who wasn’t demon-dead would be asleep at this hour. *I brought Cassidy. There’s been some trouble.*

  *Is she wounded?*

  The genuine concern in Yairen’s voice told Ranon that he’d made the right choice. *Not her body, but her heart is wounded.*

  *Gray?*

  *No. It’s . . . complicated. She was going to leave us, Grandfather. I convinced her to come here instead.*

  *Where?*

  *The boardinghouse.*

  *Go slowly, grandson. Give this old man a little time to prepare. I will meet you at the house. Janos will come too.*

  *Thank you.*

  Yairen broke the link. Ranon slowed the Coach to the pace of an ambling walk—and hoped Cassidy wouldn’t ask him why the Coach was suddenly wobbling so much.

  By the time he set the Coach down on the street in front of the boardinghouse, there were lamps shining in the windows of several rooms, and doors and windows were open to let in cool night air.