“Petition the Warlords!” Damin exploded angrily. “The hell I will!”
R’shiel shrugged philosophically. “Then we’ll go to Greenharbour.”
“R’shiel—”
“Damin, we have to get this sorted out quickly. Medalon is under Karien control and I can’t do anything about it until I’ve found out how to deal with Xaphista. If that means sorting out your damned Warlords, then that’s what we’ll do.”
“What’s the hurry?” Kalan asked suspiciously. “Xaphista has been the dominant power in the north for centuries. A few more months one way or the other won’t make much difference.”
“It’s not just the Overlord. I promised to help the Defenders retake Medalon. There’s a thousand Defenders headed this way,” Damin told her.
“You’re bringing Defenders onto Hythrun soil? Damin, how could you?” she cried in horror.
“They come as allies,” R’shiel reminded her.
“There is no such thing, as far as the Warlords are concerned. If those Defenders step one foot into Hythria before this is resolved, there will be nothing I can do to save you, Damin. You will lose Krakandar, the High Prince’s throne and probably your life.” The High Arrion turned to R’shiel, her eyes burning with anger. “You are responsible for this too, I suppose?”
“Sort of,” R’shiel admitted.
“And how does this fit into your grand plan to destroy Xaphista?”
“If we don’t turn the Kariens back from Medalon, Hythria is next, Kalan. I can hardly destroy him if he’s getting stronger, rather than weaker. We need the Defenders and every man the Hythrun can muster. Only then can we restore the Primal Gods to millions of people who now worship Xaphista.”
“What do you mean, you’re going to weaken Xaphista by restoring the Primal Gods to Karien?”
“What did you think I was going to do? Hunt Xaphista down and then throw fireballs and lightning bolts at him? Unless you’ve got some handy little scroll with precise instructions on how to do that tucked away in your archives, the only way I can seriously threaten the Overlord is to shake the faith of his believers. And I can’t do that while he’s rampaging through the continent, conquering everything in sight. The Defenders must be helped. Medalon must be freed.”
“And how do you plan to restore the Primal Gods?”
“That’s where you come in.”
Kalan stared at her, wide-eyed. “I fail to see…”
“The Sorcerers’ Collective is the closest thing to an organised religion that I have to work with,” R’shiel explained, a little impatiently. “The Kariens are used to being organised. It’s how Xaphista maintains control. I can’t just destroy his Church. I have to replace it.”
“Since the withdrawal of the Harshini our power has been eroded considerably.”
“I know. But Brak told me that the Sorcerers’ Collective once sent out their emissaries to every corner of the continent. He said they could travel through a war zone with impunity.”
Kalan nodded. “They were protected by their black robes, their diamond-shaped pendant and the deep respect the people had for our fellowship.”
“Those days are long past,” Damin warned. “Anyone caught wearing the diamond pendant in Fardohnya these days is imprisoned as a Hythrun spy. In Medalon they’re liable for deportation. In Karien, they’re burned at the stake.”
“I can change that. We can change it. But I need your help, Kalan. I need access to your archives. I need Hythria united and at peace with Fardohnya, and we need Hythrun help to push the Kariens back. And I need the Collective. Only then can I face the Overlord with a chance.”
Kalan nodded as the ramifications dawned on her. “Assuming we can save Damin’s province and bring our troops to aid Medalon, how do you propose to convert the Kariens?”
“I don’t wish to tip my hand by revealing that.”
Damin glanced at her askance, wondering if her reticence was deliberate or she simply didn’t have a clue.
Kalan’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Yet you demand my cooperation?”
“I’m asking for it, Kalan. If I wanted to demand it, I would ask one of the gods to appear and make it a divine edict.”
“Then let me see if I understand you. You want me to return to Greenharbour and announce that the Collective sanctions the marriage of the Hythrun heir to Hablet’s daughter. You then, I assume, want me to issue some sort of dire threat to the Warlords who oppose this union, to make them toe the line. And while you’re scrabbling through my archives looking for something that probably doesn’t exist, you want me to get them to release Krakandar back to Damin and convince them that a thousand or more Defenders pouring over our border is an act of friendship, not war.”
“That would help,” R’shiel agreed.
“And you? Having dragged half the world to the brink of war, what will you do, exactly?”
“Hand you and your Collective more power than they’ve known for centuries,” the demon child told her.
Kalan sat, silent and thoughtful for a moment. “You make a powerful and tempting offer, demon child.”
“You’re not likely to get another like it.”
Kalan looked down at her hands again before meeting R’shiel’s eye. “You may, of course, have access to our archives. They are as much the property of the Harshini as they are ours. As for the rest of it…I cannot give you an answer now. I must think on this. What you ask is unprecedented. And I wish to speak with my mother.” She glanced up at Damin. “You are aware of this plan, I assume?”
He nodded. “So is Adrina.”
“Well that explains this absurd marriage, at any rate.”
Kalan rose to her feet and brushed an imaginary speck of dust from her long black robe. Her fair hair fell forward and when she looked up for a moment she appeared much younger and more innocent than she truly was.
“I will give you my answer when I have come to a decision. Damin; demon child.” She bowed politely and left the Solar.
Damin turned to R’shiel, shaking his head. She met his look, puzzled by his expression. “What?”
“I was just thinking how well you manipulate people, R’shiel.”
“You sound like you don’t approve.”
“I never said I didn’t approve. I just can’t handle never knowing what you’re going to do next.”
“You might find it’s better that way,” she suggested with the ghost of a smile.
Damin doubted that, but decided against pursuing the matter. “R’shiel, do you see Dacendaran much?”
“I haven’t seen him since we left the Karien border.”
“Can you speak to him?”
“I suppose.”
“Can you ask him if anyone has been interfering in his followers?”
“If you want. Why?”
“I’m not sure. I just heard something that bothers me a bit, that’s all.”
“I’ll ask him if you think it’s important.”
“That’s just it,” he admitted. “I don’t really know if it is, or not.”
CHAPTER 14
R’shiel would have liked to explore Krakandar, but her status as the demon child was a significant obstacle. She had naively hoped that her identity could be kept secret until they reached Greenharbour. She’d had a vague notion that she would confront the Council of Warlords, tell them to behave because she, the demon child, commanded it, find the secret to destroying Xaphista in the Collective’s archives, then return to Medalon with a Hythrun army at her back. The chances of that happening now seemed remote. It had not occurred to her just how much the legend of the demon child meant to these pagans, or how much Damin planned to exploit it. The news had spread and a crowd had gathered outside the gates of the inner city, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.
Although raised as the daughter of a Quorum Member, R’shiel had never been the subject of public speculation before and she found it extremely disconcerting. Her status as a Novice, and later a Probate in the Sisterhood, h
ad meant she had led a fairly normal life, such that it was, until circumstances and her own rebellion had conspired to forever change its course. She was not trained to deal with being a public figure, at least not on this scale.
It was Adrina who came to her rescue. Born and bred to be in the public eye, she seemed to know what to do without thinking about it. In fact, she seemed quite determined to teach R’shiel everything she could—as if it gave her a purpose in life, other than avoiding her mother-in-law.
Thinking of Adrina made R’shiel think of Damin. Now that she had met his mother and sister, she understood what fascinated Damin about Adrina. He had grown up surrounded by intelligent, powerful women, and Adrina was everything he admired. Of course, he was too dense to realise it, just as Adrina was too stubborn to admit how she felt about Damin. The pair of them made R’shiel want to scream with frustration. But at least they were doing what was required of them, and if they were too pig-headed to work out how they felt about each other, that was their problem, not hers.
A knock at the door was a welcome diversion from her woes. She called out a command to enter and was startled to find that her visitor was Princess Marla. R’shiel leapt out of her chair as the princess swept into the room.
“You are comfortable here?” Marla asked, glancing around the room to ensure that everything was as it should be.
“Very comfortable, thank you, Your Highness.”
“We must talk, demon child. I have many questions for you.”
R’shiel nodded, unsurprised. She’d been expecting this ever since she had spoken to Kalan.
“Of course. Won’t you have a seat? I can order some refreshments if you wish. Mikel!”
The boy appeared from the next room at her command. “My Lady?”
“Fetch us some wine, Mikel.”
The boy bowed awkwardly and hurried from the room. R’shiel turned back to the princess who was staring at her suspiciously.
“I won’t be drinking wine with you, my girl,” she announced. “I plan to keep my wits about me.”
“Water, then?”
“That will do.”
Marla seated herself beside the fire as R’shiel poured water from a silver pitcher into a matching cup for the princess.
Winter in Krakandar was much milder than in Medalon, so the fire was banked low, more for the convenience of not having to light it later than from any real need for warmth. She handed the cup to Marla and took the chair opposite.
“So, what is it you wanted to ask me?”
“You are very blunt.”
“I was raised to speak my mind.”
“By the Sisterhood, Damin informs me.”
“That’s correct.”
Marla did not look pleased to have her information confirmed. “So it’s true then that you are Joyhinia Tenragan’s daughter?”
“She fostered me. My real mother died giving birth to me.”
“I cannot understand how the Harshini allowed Lorandranek’s child to be raised by their mortal enemies.”
“The Harshini didn’t know of my existence until recently. When they did learn of it, they sent Brak to find me. I can see you’re concerned, Your Highness, but imagine how I feel. I was raised to despise the Harshini. Nobody was more shocked than I was to discover the truth.”
“Yet you appear to have adapted well.”
“Out of necessity. Not by choice, I can assure you.”
Marla took another sip of water, studying R’shiel over the rim of her cup. “And so, having accepted who you are, you have decided to meddle in the internal affairs of every nation on the continent.”
“There’s no point in being half-hearted about this,” R’shiel pointed out with a faint smile. “I’m supposed to destroy Xaphista. I can’t do that without affecting anyone else.”
“And this marriage? How did you get Damin to agree to it? Did you ensorcel him? Did that Fardohnyan woman?”
“Damin might be under Adrina’s spell, Your Highness, but it has nothing to do with magic.”
“It’s obvious he’s under some sort of spell!” Marla snapped. “He is beyond reason where she is concerned. I have never seen him so intransigent over a woman. He insists that she will one day be the High Princess of Hythria.”
“And so she shall.”
“The Warlords will never accept a Fardohnyan.”
“They will, in time.”
“We may not have time,” Marla told her. “My brother is dying, demon child. It is only a matter of time before he succumbs to the diseases that consume him. One cannot indulge in the type of activities in which he finds pleasure without eventually paying the price. We do not have years, or even months, for the Warlords to grow accustomed to the idea of a Fardohnyan High Princess. We may only have weeks, and that is simply not enough time.”
“Then you will have to use your considerable powers of persuasion, won’t you?”
Marla scowled. “You haven’t persuaded me yet.”
“I don’t need to. It is done.”
“I will have it annulled.”
“I will have it ratified by the Harshini. I will have the gods put in an appearance if necessary. You can’t fight me on this, Your Highness. I have considerably more resources than you when it comes to divine intervention.”
The princess did not look pleased. “Even if I agreed to this absurd arrangement, one cannot trust a Fardohnyan, particularly one of Hablet’s brood.”
“You don’t think Adrina wants peace?”
“I think that young woman wants her father’s throne, and that’s the only reason she married my son. Have you any idea of the power you have handed her?”
“I’m quite sure Adrina knows a son of hers is likely to be King.”
“I’m not talking of that!” Marla said impatiently. “This has nothing to do with any child she might bear. Hablet has no legitimate sons. Under ancient law, that makes Damin his heir. My son would have had the Fardohnyan throne in any case, and now you have interfered and that grasping little harlot will become queen. Just how long do you think my son will survive after that?”
R’shiel leaned back in her chair, stunned by the news. “I didn’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t know. But you can bet Adrina knows. Why else would she marry Damin with barely a word of protest?”
“Has it occurred to you that she might love him?”
“Don’t be ridiculous! She wouldn’t know the meaning of the word.”
“I think you’re wrong, Your Highness. I don’t think Adrina knows anything about Damin being the heir to her father’s throne.”
“Then you are as blind as my son.”
R’shiel thought back over her conversations with Adrina. Nothing she had done or said would seem to indicate that she knew of any law that would make Damin the heir to the Fardohnyan throne. Even Kalan had given no hint that she knew of such a law. But that did raise another interesting question.
“Does Damin know about this law?”
“He does now! It’s a tragedy he didn’t learn of it sooner.”
“Why didn’t you tell him sooner?”
“I only learnt of it recently, myself. My youngest stepson is a member of the Assassins’ Guild. The Guild was approached by one of Hablet’s lackeys to murder my sons, Damin and Narvell. They refused the contract, but decided to look into the reasons behind Hablet’s obsession with the destruction of the Wolfblade line.”
“Then I don’t see the problem. Damin is still heir to the Hythrun and Fardohnyan thrones. With Adrina at his side, won’t that just make his claim to the Fardohnyan throne that much stronger?”
“Of course it does, that’s my point. There will be no stopping Adrina now. With Damin at her side, she can claim her father’s throne. Once she’s done that, all she needs to do is dispose of my son and she will rule Fardohnya and Hythria. If the child she is carrying turns out to be Cratyn’s, then she can lay claim to the Karien throne as well!”
“Child? What child?”
Marla shook her head in despair. “You don’t know? By the gods, it’s as plain as the nose on her face. Adrina is with child, R’shiel. Surely you noticed! I for one would be very interested to learn whose child it is.”
R’shiel really had no idea. She wondered if Adrina knew, or even suspected. It was possible, of course. She and Damin had been lovers for several months. The child could only be his. If she had been pregnant when she left Karien, her condition would have been patently obvious before now.
“If what you say is true, then the child is Damin’s. I can promise you that.”
“Bah! Who knows with a woman like that? It could be Almodavar’s, if she was bored enough. I just pray Damin doesn’t learn of her condition before I can prove the truth of the child’s parentage.”
“You’ve not told him about it, then?”
“And have him lose what little sense he has left regarding that woman? I don’t think so. And I would appreciate it if you said nothing to him either. At least until I can find the evidence I need to convince him how foolish he’s being.”
“I’ll not say anything about Adrina’s condition,” she agreed, in an effort to appear cooperative, “but only because I think you’re on a fool’s errand. The only thing you are likely to prove is that Damin is the child’s father.”
“My son? Get a child on that Fardohnyan whore? Never!”
Marla’s blind prejudice where Adrina was concerned was beginning to wear on R’shiel. “Your Highness, I really think you should reconsider your attitude towards Adrina. She is married to your son and if you’re right about her condition, she carries your grandchild. Don’t you think life would be a lot easier if you made an effort to get along with her?”
“I don’t trust her,” Marla replied stubbornly.
“You’ve hardly given her a chance.”
“I see no reason why I should.”
“You should, because I say you should,” R’shiel declared.
“I’m not going to be ordered around by a slip of a girl who thinks she can bend the world to her will…”
Marla’s voice tapered off as R’shiel reached for her power. She didn’t do anything with it, she simply let it fill her until her eyes darkened and turned completely black. She stared at Marla unblinkingly, her black eyes like orbs of burning onyx, her silence a threat in itself. There wasn’t much point in being the demon child if you couldn’t lay down the law every now and then, especially when being reasonable wasn’t getting you anywhere.
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