“Don’t interfere, Dirk,” Reithan warned. “If the boy is going to make his own way in life, you can’t keep protecting him.”
“I know, it’s just ...”
“Reithan’s right, lad,” Porl agreed. “Leave well enough alone. My lads won’t do him any lasting harm.”
Dirk nodded uncertainly. After years of watching over Eryk, he was uncomfortable with the idea of leaving him to fend for himself among the pirates who crewed the Makuan. But they were right. At some point, Eryk was going to have to make his own way in life, and the best thing Dirk could do for him now was allow him to stand on his own two feet.
But it did not feel right. Dirk turned back to watching the Makuan slice through the waves toward the city of Nova, unable to shake the feeling that both Reithan and Porl were keeping something from him, but whether it was to do with Eryk, or it was something more sinister, he could not tell.
Chapter 16
The queen and her party were met by the Duke of Grannon Rock when they docked in Nova and taken by carriage to the duke’s residence on the peak of the mountain. The rain dissipated quickly once the second sun was fully risen, leaving the air humid and uncomfortable.
Alenor had only met the duke once before, when he had visited Avacas several years earlier, and she could barely remember him. Saban Seranov proved a surprisingly cheerful man with brown eyes and gray-streaked hair that fell across his face constantly. He always seemed to be brushing it aside. He greeted the queen formally, sparing a brief smile for his son, Alexin, when he noticed him among the guard.
“Your eldest son is not in residence at the moment?” Rainan inquired, once the introductions had been made.
“Raban will be home tomorrow, your majesty. He’s out checking on the reconstruction in one of the villages on the other side of the island. I apologize if you’re offended that he’s not here to welcome you.”
“No offense taken, my lord. I was merely curious. I imagine Alexin is looking forward to catching up with his brother.”
The duke smiled briefly. “I believe, your majesty, that separating my sons was one of the more intelligent decisions I’ve made in my life. I’d not be too eager to see them reunited.”
“Don’t they get along?” Alenor asked curiously.
“On the contrary, your highness, they get along famously, which is mostly the problem. It’s paying for the damage they cause in their enthusiasm that concerns me.”
Alenor glanced at Alexin. The captain of the guard was looking rather embarrassed. “I can’t wait to hear all about their escapades, my lord,” she said, turning back to the duke. “Alexin is always so ... proper ... at court.”
The duke smiled. “I’m beginning to wonder if we’re talking about the same man. But come, your highness, let me see you and the queen settled and provided with refreshments. Perhaps later I’ll tell you about some of the pranks my sons are famous for.”
“I look forward to that,” Alenor replied, smiling at Alexin. The captain rolled his eyes but said nothing. Kirsh stood a few paces from Alexin, his blue-and-silver uniform making him unremarkable amid his fellow guardsmen. Rainan made no attempt to introduce him to the duke, but if he was offended, he gave no sign of it.
The Duke of Grannon Rock’s residence was too big to be called a house, but not really large enough to be called a palace. Constructed of wood and stone, it was a rambling structure that sprawled over the peak of a hill, and seemed more a cluster of connected buildings than one large house. They were met by an honor guard made up of the household staff. Alenor stepped down from the coach and glanced back over the island. The rain had lifted, and in the distance, she could just make out a ship sailing through the heads toward the harbor.
Duke Saban led them through the honor guard into the house. He showed them their rooms, and then had Alexin show them to the communal bathhouse that served the whole complex. It was fed by a hot spring, and the room stank of sulfur, but Alenor was delighted at the prospect of soaking away the grime of her journey in the luxurious pool.
“Just let me know when you wish to use the baths, your highness,” Alexin told her. “I’ll have a guard posted to ensure you’re not disturbed.”
“Thank you, Captain,” she said, glancing across the steamy room at Kirsh. Her betrothed was on his best behavior, she noted, doing nothing to draw attention to himself. He had not even blinked when Rainan failed to introduce him to the duke. Kirsh was here as a member of their guard, not the future Regent of Dhevyn, and seemed quite content in that role. He smiled at her, but did nothing more.
Rainan saw his smile and turned to Alexin. “Just be certain you handpick the guard, Alexin. Her highness has a reputation to uphold.”
“Never fear, your majesty. The Princess Alenor’s virtue is safe in the hands of the Queen’s Guard.”
Alenor glared at the queen, quite annoyed to be discussed in such a manner. “I rather think my virtue would be better served if the Queen’s Guard kept their hands to themselves, don’t you, Mother?”
Alexin bit back a smile and looked away. Alenor liked Alexin. She knew he was the closest thing to a friend that Kirsh had in the guard. That reason alone was enough to make her look favorably upon the young man.
Rainan stared at her daughter for a moment and then shook her head. “You deliberately misunderstand me, Alenor.”
Alenor did not answer her mother. She turned to Alexin instead and smiled brightly. “So, Captain, is there anything else we need to know about?”
“Not that I can think of at present, your highness.”
“In that case we shall return to the house and get ready for lunch,” Rainan decreed. “If that’s all right with you, Alenor.”
“It is.”
Alexin snapped his fingers and their escort filed out of the steaming bathhouse, but before Alenor and her mother could follow, the captain stepped in front of them, blocking their way.
“Captain,” Rainan said. “Is there a problem?”
Alexin glanced around the room to be certain they were alone before answering. His demeanor was almost ... furtive, Alenor thought curiously.
“I have ... a message, your majesty,” Alexin began, a little uncertainly. “One that I must ask you to keep in the strictest confidence.”
“You have me intrigued, Alexin. What is this mysterious message?”
Alexin coughed to clear his throat before continuing. “Ah ... there are some ... people ... coming to Nova who would like to arrange a meeting with you. To discuss matters of great importance regarding Dhevyn’s future.”
Her mother did not display any obvious sign of surprise. “I see. And why do your friends wish to discuss Dhevyn’s future with me ?”
“I never said they were my friends, your majesty.”
Rainan smiled. “Very well then, your associates.”
“Neither are they my associates. I am merely passing on a message.”
“You haven’t answered my question.”
“I believe they feel that an alliance may be worth discussing.”
“Mother—”
“Later, Alenor,” the queen said sharply, before returning her attention to Alexin.
“Why are they doing this now?”
“I couldn’t say, your majesty. But they are most anxious to meet with you.”
“My answer is no, Alexin.”
The Guardsman nodded. If he was disappointed, Alenor couldn’t tell. “I understand, your majesty.” He bowed and took a step backward before turning for the door.
“Alexin,” the queen called after him.
“Ma’am?”
“This is a dangerous game you have involved yourself in.”
“I happen to think it worth the risk.”
When he was gone, Alenor sank down on the edge of the baths, feeling light-headed and more than a little shocked. Although she had heard Antonov complain about them when she lived in Avacas, this was the first overt sign she had ever seen that the Queen’s Guard were actively working ag
ainst Senet.
“Alenor?” her mother asked. “Are you unwell?”
“You think this offer comes from the Baenlanders, don’t you.”
She shrugged, and seemed unsurprised. “It’s not an unreasonable assumption. Alexin’s cousin, Reithan, is very highly placed with the pirates. He may even be their leader now that Johan is gone. On the other hand, Alexin is Saban Seranov’s son. This might be some twisted game of Antonov’s designed to test my loyalty.”
“It seems a little subtle for the Lion of Senet. It sounds more like a plot Belagren would hatch. Besides, I thought you trusted Alexin.”
“I do trust him,” Rainan said. “I just don’t trust his father.”
“Why won’t you meet with them?”
“I don’t think I can risk it, Alenor.”
“But if they could help us—”
“If they could help us, Alenor, they would have done it long before now, when Johan ruled them. The truth is, the Baenlanders are probably falling apart without his leadership and need our help. I can’t afford to become involved. Not now. Not with the wedding so close.”
“But couldn’t you just meet with them? Find out what they want?”
“No, Alenor,” the queen replied emphatically. “And I’ll thank you not to raise the subject again.”
“But, Mother—”
“I said no, Alenor.”
With that, the queen swept up her skirts and followed Alexin outside, leaving Alenor staring after her.
Chapter 17
The queen arrived in Nova two days after the Shadowdancers, but Marqel saw little of either Rainan or the Princess Alenor, and nothing at all of Kirshov. Somewhat to her annoyance, the Shadowdancers were not guests in the duke’s residence, but were accommodated in rooms attached to the Temple of the Suns.
The Sundancers had been resident in Nova for centuries and they still nominally had control over the temple there. The Sundancer in charge was a tall, heavily built woman named Jalena Arkin. She welcomed Laleno and Marqel with barely disguised hostility. The animosity between the Sundancers and the Shadowdancers was never more apparent to Marqel than in the barely civil greeting they received when they arrived.
There were two other Shadowdancers based permanently in Nova, but one was away in Cashton, the other major city on the island, and the other, Daena Lorinov, was heavily pregnant with a child that was rumored to be the bastard of Raban Seranov, the duke’s eldest son. Daena greeted them briefly, looking bloated and unattractive, then retired to her rooms. Marqel watched her leave, thinking that she would never let that happen to her body. No child would ever ruin her figure like that.
Jalena arranged for them to go hawking a couple of days later—mostly, Marqel suspected, to get them out of her way. The Duke of Grannon Rock loaned them horses and his hawkmaster, and provided an elaborate picnic. Marqel spent the morning bored witless. She considered hawking to be the most useless pastime she had ever encountered, and could not understand how anybody could think it even remotely entertaining. Laleno, on the other hand, was having the time of her life.
The other Shadowdancer was several years older than Marqel, a tall slender brunette with the polished manners of a noblewoman. Although a Landfall bastard like Marqel, she had been raised in the home of the Duke of Versage. Her mother had given birth to her and then married the duke’s Seneschal not long after her second birthday. Consequently, Laleno was educated and refined in a manner that Marqel could never hope to emulate.
They rode out from the temple before the second sun rose and the heat became unbearable. For much of the morning they followed the duke’s handsome young hawkmaster and his well-trained birds as they swooped on the rabbits that crowded the hills of Grannon Rock. With the sea level rising, much of the game had sought higher ground, and the rabbits in particular were on the point of becoming vermin.
At midday they stopped for lunch in the shade of a grove of trees, near the sheared-off edge of Mount Grannon. One of the earthquakes had sliced half the mountain away, leaving a raw scar on the hill, exposing layers of sedimentary rock that striped the cliff-face in a dazzling array of vibrant colors. The hawkmaster told them about it as they ate a cold lunch of game meat, flavored breads and sweet red wine.
Laleno hung off his every word, as if he was her intended target, not Kirshov. That annoyed Marqel intensely, even though she suspected Laleno was just flirting for practice. Marqel still had not worked out exactly how she was going to stop Laleno from having Kirsh on Landfall night, but at least she was here on Grannon Rock, where she might be able to do something to prevent it. Perhaps an opportunity would present itself, but Marqel was becoming a little concerned. Landfall was only a few days away. She was running out of time.
“The view sounds most impressive,” Laleno was saying to the hawkmaster, fluttering her eyelids with a coy smile. “I would love to see it.”
“I’d be delighted to show you, my lady,” the hawkmaster offered. “It’s not a place you should venture near without an experienced guide. The ground is still very unstable in places, but it’s worth the effort.”
Laleno glanced at Marqel, who was sitting with her back to a tree, giving the appearance that she was dozing in the warm afternoon sun, as she tried to puzzle out the problem of Laleno and Kirshov.
“Marqel? Would you mind waiting?”
“I suppose not,” she replied, scowling as the hawkmaster held out his hand to help Laleno up and then led her toward the cliffs. The servants began clearing away their picnic as Marqel settled herself back against the tree, pulling her broad-brimmed straw hat over her face.
“Don’t let me sleep too long,” she ordered one of the nearby grooms. “We need to be back in plenty of time for dinner tonight.”
Marqel dropped the hat over her eyes and settled herself more comfortably against the tree, but resting was a singular waste of time. Her mind would not let go of the idea that Kirsh was here in Nova and Laleno was going to have him. She opened her eyes in annoyance, and then glanced at the grooms, who were standing near the horses. They were chatting among themselves, not even looking in her direction.
She climbed to her feet and looked around, then, on impulse, set off in the direction that Laleno and the hawkmaster had disappeared.
Marqel followed their tracks in the soft earth through the trees for quite some time before she heard them. Concealed behind the undergrowth, she stopped to watch. They were right on the edge of the cliff. As Marqel had suspected, Laleno was more interested in the handsome young hawkmaster than the view. The Shadowdancer had cast aside her shirt and was naked to the waist. The hawkmaster was sucking on her nipple as she threw her head back, moaning with pleasure. Even from where she was hidden, Marqel could see the bulge in his tight leather trousers. As she watched, he lifted his mouth from her breast and kissed the Shadowdancer on the mouth. His hands were pulling up her riding skirt as she fumbled at the buckle of his belt.
Marqel studied them curiously. The hawkmaster was so anxious to possess the Shadowdancer that she could be standing over them and he wouldn’t notice a thing. They were so close to the edge, too. That was probably Laleno’s idea. She liked the idea of danger. It heightened her pleasure.
They were so lost in their lust neither of them noticed her approach. The hawkmaster was smothering Laleno’s throat, her breasts, her navel with kisses. Laleno had wrapped her fingers through his dark hair and was pulling him to her, forcing his head downward. This was about Laleno’s pleasure, Marqel noted with detached interest, not the hawkmaster’s. He would do what she wanted.
Laleno opened her eyes and caught sight of Marqel as the hawkmaster dropped to his knees before her on the very edge of the cliff. He did not see her approach; his face was covered by Laleno’s skirts. The Shadowdancer stared at her uncomprehendingly for a moment.
Marqel smiled. Laleno probably had no idea what Marqel intended until she shoved them backward with all the strength she could muster. The Shadowdancer did not utter a sound as
she and the hawkmaster plummeted over the edge of the cliff. The hawkmaster cried out, but he was still tangled in Laleno’s skirts, which muffled his screams of terror as the ground below rushed to meet them.
It took a long time for them to fall. Marqel had time to note that the hawkmaster had spoken truly—the cliff really was an impressive sight with its colorfully striped layers of rock. She waited patiently, as first Laleno and then the hawkmaster landed on the jagged rocks at the foot of the mountain.
Marqel watched the broken bodies at the base of the cliff for a while longer, making certain that neither of them was moving, before she turned and called for help.
Had Marqel realized the fuss it would cause, she might have thought twice about disposing of Laleno in such a dramatic fashion. Jalena was distraught when she learned of the accident, and spent the rest of the day trying to organize a rescue party to recover the bodies from the foot of the cliffs. Looking convincingly pale and distraught, Marqel retired to her rooms to savor her accomplishment, while pandemonium erupted around her. Daena came to visit her, to offer her sympathy, which Marqel suffered through nobly, choking back false tears and letting Daena stroke her hair comfortingly with her pudgy, swollen fingers.
She begged off dinner, eating in her rooms, but the pregnant Shadowdancer seemed determined not to let her out of her sight. In an effort to be rid of the clinging woman, Marqel announced that she would light a candle for Laleno, and requested some time alone to beseech the Goddess to watch over Laleno in the afterlife.
Both Jalena and Daena nodded sympathetically and left her alone. She took the thick red mourning candle and hurried toward the temple, glad finally to be rid of the other women.
Her moment of solitude was not to be, however. There was a girl in the temple kneeling near the altar, her head bowed in prayer, and off to the side, a sailor stood with his head down, his lips moving silently as he begged the Goddess for something ... probably that he gets laid tonight, she thought uncharitably. Marqel placed the candle on the altar and turned back, thinking she caught a movement near the door. She looked up but there was no one there. She smiled down at the kneeling girl.
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