The Shadow's heir trs-1

by K J Taylor

  She couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if the Night God came to her. What would she be like? How would she react to a half-breed living in her land? Would she welcome her as one of her followers, or would she be angry?

  Laela sighed. Gah, what’s the point? Think about somethin’ else.

  Her empty stomach provided a helpful distraction, and she turned to thinking about dinner, which was waiting for her when she returned to the Eyrie. Tonight there was roasted goat, flavoured with wonderfully tart cymran juice.

  Now that was something she could love about her new life. Cymran fruit was horribly expensive-only the rich could afford the stuff, and here she was, eating cymran-juice sauce with her dinner, as if she were a griffiner!

  That cheered her up enormously-the very good wine they’d given her helped-and she went back to her room afterward feeling thoroughly happy.

  When she opened the door, the first thing she saw was that the lamp was already lit. That surprised her.

  When she saw that it was lit because there was someone in there waiting for her, she forgot about the lamp very quickly.

  “Yorath!” She shut the door and strode toward him. “What are yeh doin’ here?”

  Her tutor stood up. He was dressed much more finely than usual, and his tunic hung partly open, revealing the elaborate spirals tattooed over his chest.

  “Laela.”

  She relaxed slightly. “Good gods, yeh gave me a fright. What’s up?”

  Yorath looked nervous, but confident as well. “I wanted to see ye. Is this a bad time?”

  “Oh. . uh, not really. I’ve just come back from dinner.”

  He smiled. “I just wanted to tell ye somethin’, that’s all.”

  “What is it?”

  “Well. .” He scuffed at the floor with his boot. “I just wanted t’say. . I like ye.”

  She felt as if a floodgate had opened inside her chest. “Yorath!”

  He shrugged. “I just do, that’s all. An’ I wanted to tell ye.”

  “Yeh picked an odd time t’do it,” said Laela, her mind racing.

  “I know,” Yorath confessed. “I just felt like I had to do it tonight. But I’ll go now, if ye want. .”

  He didn’t move.

  “Yorath, I like you, too,” said Laela. “I’ve liked yeh since the day we met.”

  His eyes lit up. “Ye do?”

  “Yeah.” She smiled. “No-one here seems t’like me much. . It’s nice t’know at least one of yeh looks forward t’seein’ me an’ smiles when he does.”

  Yorath came closer-so close they were almost touching. “Ye’re lonely here, ain’t ye?”

  “Yeah, I am, I guess,” Laela mumbled. “I never really thought about it. I ain’t really had no-one to talk to since Dad died.”

  “I know it must be hard for ye,” he said softly. “My dad used to tell me about how it was here before the King came. We weren’t allowed t’have weapons, we couldn’t worship our own god-we couldn’t even speak our own language. That’s why we all know Cymrian-once, that was all we could speak. The King tried t’pass a law sayin’ we couldn’t speak Cymrian after he was crowned, but most of the common people can’t remember the dark tongue at all. So he passed a law that all children have t’learn it. The Southerners knocked down the stone circles an’ buried them, an’ we couldn’t tell the old legends or wear the manhood tattoos. We were forgettin’ our own ways. They made us second-class in our own land-anyone who fought back or broke any of their laws was killed, or sold as a slave. It was a crime just to be born dark.”

  He said it with so much sincerity, and with such quiet sadness, that it made Laela’s heart ache. “Gods, I’m so selfish,” she muttered. “Always moanin’ about my lot in life, when I know what happened to yeh. To a whole people.”

  Yorath smiled slightly. “Ye walk down the street, tryin’ to hide yer face. Ye pretend not to hear, but ye do. Ye always hear it. Hear ’em shout after ye. ‘Blackrobe, moon lover, darkman, heathen scum.’ All ye can do is keep quiet an’ hope they’ll leave ye alone. Because if they decide t’come after ye, ye’re dead, an’ no-one’s going to help ye.”

  Laela touched his arm. “Yorath. . I’m sorry. I should’ve known it from the start.”

  “Oh, it never happened to me,” said Yorath. “But it happened to a lot of people. I’ve heard it from some of them face-to-face. It happened to the King, too, once, most likely. But he never talks about his past.”

  “That used to happen t’me,” said Laela. “I never went out into the village on me own, but even when I went with Dad, I’d hear it. The other kids never wanted anythin’ t’do with me once they got old enough t’see I was different.”

  “It shouldn’t’ve been like that for ye,” Yorath said fiercely. “It shouldn’t. Ye never asked for it, an’ ye don’t deserve it, either. Ye’re a beautiful woman, Laela. Beautiful an’ clever an’ wonderful, an’. . an’ yer eyes. .”

  She squeezed them shut. “I know. . these blue eyes of mine. .”

  “They’re beautiful eyes,” said Yorath. “So don’t hide them away like that. Let me see them.”

  She obeyed. “Dad always said I got them from me mother.”

  “Well then, she must’ve been a beautiful woman, Southerner or no,” said Yorath. “Laela-”

  “Yeah?” she murmured, almost pressing herself against his chest by now.

  “Are ye. . are ye really sure the King doesn’t want to bed ye?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure,” said Laela. “An’ even if he did, I’d say no. I’m his guest, that’s all. I got no interest in sharin’ his bed.”

  He looked her in the face. “Who would ye bed, then?”

  “Bold, aren’t yeh?” Laela couldn’t hide a grin.

  “Dad always said I got that from him,” said Yorath, unbothered. “I always reckoned I just don’t know when to shut my mouth.”

  Laela giggled, which was most unlike her. “Yeah, I’d bed yeh,” she said archly.

  Now it was his turn to be taken aback. “What?”

  “C’mon, that’s what yeh really wanted t’know,” said Laela. “Why, ain’t yeh interested?”

  “Oh, I am,” he mumbled. “I just wasn’t. .”

  “Well, like Dad always said, say what yeh mean an’ mean what yeh say. I like yeh, Yorath. An’ I would’ve said so before, only. . well. Lots of reasons, really.”

  He grinned. “Can ye keep a secret?”

  “Yeah, I can keep a secret just fine.”

  “A big secret?”

  “Little secret, big secret. . they’re all the same. I can keep ’em all. Why, what did yeh have in mind?”

  “This,” he said, and kissed her on the mouth.

  She stiffened and drew back at first, but he came after her, and she shook off her surprise and her nervousness and pressed herself against him. She’d never kissed anyone before, but she did it now-clumsily, but eagerly. His lips felt wonderful.

  When he pulled her toward the bed, she let him do it. She didn’t care if it would hurt, or if she was ready, or. . or anything. She wanted him.

  Afterward, Laela snuggled in Yorath’s arms. His skin was deliciously warm.

  “Gods, I had no idea,” she murmured.

  “Was I any good?” he asked. He almost sounded anxious.

  Laela laughed softly. “I’m a virgin. . was a virgin, Yorath. What’d I know? But it was amazin’.”

  “I didn’t hurt ye?”

  “No. Well, maybe a bit. But I don’t care.” She yawned. “I love yeh, Yorath.”

  “An’ I love ye, Laela.”

  She yawned again. “I saw me future today, y’know. In the water, at the Temple. Aderyn showed me how-the priestess what took me there. Have you ever done that?”

  “No. What did ye see?”

  “A griffin,” she said sleepily. “Saw a griffin. An’ I saw somethin’ looked like a ring. Aderyn said I might be able t’figure out what it meant. I got no idea, though.”

  Yorath chuckled. “A
griffin, eh? That’s somethin’ special t’see. Wonder what it could mean?”

  “Yeah, me, too.”

  “Maybe it means ye’ll be a griffiner,” he teased. “Eh?”

  She nudged him. “Stop that.”

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s all right.”

  A moment later, she fell asleep.

  She didn’t dream of Gryphus that night. In fact, she didn’t dream at all.

  She jerked back into the waking world abruptly, and terrifyingly.

  “Get up! Move!”

  Hands were dragging her out of bed, none too gently, and she came awake a moment before she hit the floor. It was daylight, Yorath was gone, and a couple of powerfully built guardsmen were hauling her to her feet.

  Laela struggled. “What the. .? Let go of me!”

  One of them shoved her toward the bed. “Get dressed. Now.”

  She grabbed the dress she’d left on the floor and pulled it on as quickly as possible and managed to get her feet into her boots before they took her by the shoulders and marched her out of the room. They completely ignored her protests, and when she tried to break away, one of them silently caught her by the wrist and twisted her arm behind her back so hard it made her eyes water.

  Her first thought was that she was being taken to the King, and the panicked thought crossed her mind that he knew about Yorath. He’d found out somehow. But what was he going to do to her now? Had she finally pushed him too far?

  But the guards didn’t take her to the dining hall or any of the other places where she’d met the King before. They took her downward instead-down and down to the ground floor, and then into a passage that went underground. Laela thought they were taking her to the crypt instead, but she quickly realised that this was a different passage than the one the King had shown her. Gods help her, where was Yorath?

  They hadn’t gone very far along this new passage before she realised where they were.

  Her heart thudded painfully. They were taking her to the dungeons. The same dungeons where the worst and most dangerous criminals were taken-the same dungeons where the King had been tortured long ago.

  Laela began to struggle violently. “No! Stop! I ain’t done nothin’ wrong! Let me go!”

  The only reply was a blow so powerful it snapped her head sideways and slammed her teeth together with an audible thump.

  Dazed, with blood dripping from her nose, she staggered on in the direction her guards chose. Her ears were ringing so badly, she only just heard the brief conversation with another guard they met along the way. A barred door opened, and they passed into another passage so narrow they had to walk along it in single file. There, the guard in front of her unlocked a door and pushed it inward. His comrade shoved Laela through it, and she stumbled forward and collapsed onto a hard stone floor as the door slammed behind her.

  She lay on her stomach, her blood dripping softly onto the stone beneath her. Her face hurt so badly, she thought she was going to pass out, but her mind was clear enough to know what was going on, and she didn’t have to look up to know that she was in a cell.

  What happened? What did I do?

  It would be a long time before she would find out.

  She spent the rest of the day in her cell-a tiny, cold, stone-lined thing whose only furniture was a narrow wooden bench bolted to the floor and an oversized jar in one corner meant to serve as a lavatory. A guard eventually brought her a jug of water but ignored all her questions.

  She drank some of the water and used it to wash the crusted blood off her face and bathe her swollen eye. Her jaw still hurt badly-she was fairly sure she had at least one broken tooth, and another one was threatening to fall out. And her eye was swollen so much it was almost completely impossible to see out of. The guard must have had a very strong arm.

  She was too frightened to spend much time feeling sorry for herself. Lacking anything else to do, she paced back and forth in her cell and agonised. Had the King got bored with her? Was this some cruel game he was playing with her before he disposed of her? Was she going to be executed-or tortured? Would they break her fingers, too?

  But why would he do this to her? He’d made her one of his subjects, she’d started learning so many things on his orders-why would he suddenly change his mind?

  Yorath.

  That was why. It had to be. He must have found out that she’d shared her bed with him, and that must have made him angry with her. Maybe he was jealous. . Maybe he didn’t want a half-breed dallying with one of his people. . Maybe she’d broken some Northerner rule she didn’t know about. But how had he found out? Had he been watching her? People said he could make himself invisible. . hide in the darkness. .

  Or had Yorath told him? Gods forbid, had he betrayed her?

  Laela slumped onto the bench, face in her hands. Oh, help me.

  She lifted her head. “Help me,” she said aloud. “Please, help. Help me get out of this, please. .”

  Silence answered her, and she stared into the darkness. Who had she been pleading with? Who was she praying to-Gryphus, or the Night God?

  Her eyes gleamed.

  “Night God,” she said aloud. “Scathach. Can yeh hear me? I’m Laela. Laela Redguard. I dunno if yeh know about me. I’m a half-breed. My father, he was a Northerner. They told me that means I’m a Northerner, too. Yesterday I saw visions in the water, an’ they say that means I’m one of your people, too. I ain’t never prayed to yeh before. I always prayed to Gryphus. But he never did answer any of my prayers. Maybe that was because I’m a darkwoman. Didn’t want t’think of myself that way. But maybe I should. I’d like a god of my own. Just t’know who was watchin’ over me, if anyone really was. I prayed to Gryphus, but he never helped me. So I’ll tell yeh this-Night God-I’ll believe in yeh. I’ll pray to yeh. Just help me. Protect me like they say yeh do. Stop them from hurtin’ me-get me outta here, an’ I’m yours. That’s a promise, like.”

  She nodded to the invisible presence and lay down to try and get some rest.

  Maybe she slept-she was never sure about that-but it felt like almost no time later when her cell door opened and a guard came in. He was carrying something, which he put on the bench before backing out of the cell and closing the door again.

  Laela sat up and reached for the thing he’d left-it was a small loaf of bread, and she bit into it immediately.

  “Eat that fast an’ smarten yerself up,” the guard said brusquely. “Lord Torc is comin’ here to see ye.”

  Laela swallowed quickly. “Who’s that?”

  The guard had already gone. But his message had given her some hope, and she ate the rest of the bread and did what she could to neaten her hair and clothes. If the person coming to see her was a lord, then she’d have to look as tidy as possible to make a good impression on him. It couldn’t hurt.

  She’d retied her boot-laces and used some of the leftover water to flatten her hair when she heard the jangle of keys outside her cell and looked up as a guard called to her.

  “Get away from the door, half-breed-sit at the end of the bench an’ stay there.”

  She did it straightaway, and waited tensely while the door was unlocked and opened to let someone through. The someone stood by while the guard came in with a torch and put it in a holder on the wall. It lit the cell quite well, and the guard bowed to the visitor, and then left.

  Laela looked at the man she could only assume was Lord Torc, trying to get the measure of him. He was in his thirties and not very tall, but he had a wiry look to him. He had a neat beard, and his clothes were fine but plain.

  “Ye’re Laela?”

  She debated whether to stand up and decided to stay where she was. “Yeah, that’s me. My lord.”

  He looked her up and down, unreadable. “I’m Lord Torc,” he told her. “Master of Law. Do ye know why ye’re in here?”

  “No,” said Laela. “Look-my lord-just talk to the King. He can tell yeh I’m allowed t’be in the Eyrie an’ that-he gave me a home here. We�
��re. . well, he trusts me. Just tell him I ain’t done nothin’-let me talk to him, I can tell him. .”

  “Ye won’t be talking to the King,” Lord Torc said coldly. “And he won’t be talking to ye, either.”

  “But look, I ain’t done nothin’!” said Laela. “Please, just tell him-”

  “Can ye tell me where ye were last night, Laela?” he said, cutting across her.

  “What? I was in my room,” said Laela. “Where else would I have been?”

  “I’ll ask the questions, thanks,” said Torc. “Can anyone confirm where ye were?”

  “I-” Laela hesitated. Her instincts told her that bringing Yorath into this wouldn’t help her. “I dunno,” she said lamely.

  “I see. Ye didn’t see the King, then?”

  “Just once, in the morning, real quick,” said Laela.

  “Ye didn’t see him any later in the day?”

  “No.”

  “Are ye sure?”

  “Yeah, of course I am!” said Laela. “The King ain’t someone yeh just forget about. Why does it matter, anyway?”

  “Considering ye’re his mistress, I would’ve expected ye to be with him last night,” said Torc.

  “Well, I wasn’t,” said Laela.

  “Can ye prove that?”

  “I dunno. Wouldn’t someone’ve seen me go in his room?”

  He didn’t react to that. “Had ye seen anything in the Eyrie that was odd? Strangers? Anyone acting differently?”

  “I’ve only been here a week or so,” Laela countered. “I dunno much’ve what goes on around here. What looks odd t’me might be totally normal to you.”

  “No strangers, then?”

  “Not that I saw.”

  “Ye haven’t been talking to anyone different?” Torc persisted. “Anyone who wasn’t one of yer tutors, or one of the servants?”

  “No,” said Laela.

  “So I take it ye don’t know anything about what happened last night?”

  “I doubt it, because I got no damn idea what that was,” Laela said flatly.

  He leant closer. “Last night, the King vanished out of his bedroom. No-one has seen him since. Every guard and griffin in the city has been looking for him, but so far none of them have found a thing. And so far we don’t know of anyone in the Eyrie who could have had something to do with it. After all-who here would want to harm the King?” He paused. “But the thing is, there is someone in the Eyrie who might want that. Someone who came from the South, where everyone hates our ruler. Someone with every reason to resent us and want revenge. Someone who just so happened to be in the Eyrie last night, with no way of proving she wasn’t anywhere near the King when he went missing.”