The Shadow's heir trs-1

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The Shadow's heir trs-1 Page 34

by K J Taylor


  “That’s what Gryphus wants,” she said to herself, so quietly she barely heard it. “He wants me to take revenge. To-to kill him.”

  She stood up, moving to stand over Arenadd, and glanced quickly at the door. Nobody was around. Skandar was up on deck, enjoying some fresh air, and Duach and Penllyn were staying away to give her some time alone.

  She looked back at Arenadd. She was unarmed, and there were no weapons in the room, but she could manage without one. He was so weak that she could probably suffocate him with a pillow or strangle him. Nobody would ever know it had been her; they would assume he had simply passed away in his sleep.

  She didn’t move.

  Arenadd’s face twitched, and he mumbled something inaudible.

  All of a sudden, Laela wanted to laugh. Here she was, after everything he had done, pretending to be his daughter. And the thing was, the odd thing was, that in his own way he had almost been like a father to her. He had protected her, given her a home, given her everything she needed. He had been a friend, had watched over her, had taught her everything he knew. And when trouble came, that awful day in the Temple, he had willingly gone into danger in order to try to save her, and had nearly sacrificed his own life in the process.

  Laela slumped back into her chair and put her hands over her face. This was impossible; it all was. She was no murderer, and Arenadd was. .

  . . was all she had. If she killed him now, she would not just be killing her family’s murderer but also the only one left in the world who cared about her as a father would. Without him, she would be alone in the world again.

  And the South would lose the enemy who had become its greatest protector.

  When she realised that, Laela knew there was no way she could kill him.

  She got up and stalked out of the room.

  Laela got married the next day, without having met her prospective husband beforehand, in the very same Temple where she had nearly died.

  She spent the morning in her rooms with Telise and Inva, both of whom worked to prepare her for the ceremony. If she’d thought they had pampered her before, that was nothing compared to now. After a light breakfast, the two of them spent literally the entire morning up until noon bathing, massaging, painting, filing, combing, brushing, anointing, and decorating the bride-to-be, before they helped her climb into the most elaborate outfit she had ever seen in her life. It started with a skimpy two-piece thing not unlike what she had worn on the first day, but over the top of that went entire layers of veils, scarves, and bits of jewellery covered in tiny gold bells.

  She was half-convinced that she wouldn’t even be able to walk underneath all of it, but when she was finally allowed to stand up, she found that the outfit was surprisingly light.

  As she prepared to leave, Oeka came to join her, having spent the morning with her own attendant plus a second, who had been called in especially. Her coat nearly shone, but it was barely noticeable under the jewel-encrusted headdress and the tassels that hung from her wings. Even her beak and talons had been coated in gold leaf.

  She said nothing but walked by Laela’s side as they set out into the palace with the four slaves forming a retinue around them. When they left the palace, they found themselves joining a procession, which moved off the moment they had taken a place halfway along, moving at a sedate pace along the sandy street, where dozens of people had gathered to watch.

  Shaded by palm leaves, which Inva and Telise held over her head, Laela looked ahead. At least a hundred people were in the procession behind and in front of her. Guards, nobles, griffins-and servants to attend to most of them. Decorated poles swayed overhead.

  At the very front, she could catch a glimpse of an entire phalanx of griffins swaggering along side by side, all headdressed and bursting with complete, arrogant self-confidence.

  No sign of her future husband, though, as far as she could see. She walked along obediently, forced to keep a slow pace by the rest of the procession and the ridiculous sandals she had to wear.

  It took a painfully long time to reach the Temple-not that she wanted to see it again in a hurry. When the entrance finally loomed above her, her stomach twisted. She didn’t know what to expect when she entered, and was very relieved when it turned out to be nothing more terrifying than the same long, stone room, only now festooned in flowers. People and griffins lined the room, leaving a passage down the centre to the altar, where Laela’s intended waited for her.

  She walked forward, with Oeka. The rest of the procession had fallen away, and only Inva and one of Oeka’s attendants were left, walking silently in the rear.

  And there he was, waiting for her under the gaze of Xanathus’ golden statue. The Amorani Empire’s youngest Prince, whose name she didn’t even know, but who would be her husband by the time she left the Temple.

  Laela wasn’t sure what she had expected him to be like, but she knew for certain it hadn’t been this. Part of her had thought he would be bald, like his father, and she had definitely thought he would be much older than her. She was wrong.

  The Prince didn’t look more than a year away from her in age, and he had a full head of thick, dark hair. A diamond stud twinkled on one side of his nose, and the smile he greeted her with was nearly as brilliant. All in all, he was. .

  The damned best-looking man I ever saw! Laela thought, almost frantically.

  The Prince held out a hand to her. “Welcome, my beautiful flower of Cymria.”

  Laela fought and lost a battle with a big goofy grin. “I’m honoured to meet you, Prince,” she said, taking the hand.

  His grip was delicate, but strong. “I welcome you in Xanathus’ name.” He spoke Cymrian, and his voice was rich and wonderful to listen to. “Come, stand beside me.”

  Laela joined him, oblivious as Oeka greeted the Prince’s own partner. “I’m Laela,” she said in an undertone.

  “And I am Akhane,” said the Prince, with another dazzling smile. “You are far more beautiful than I ever expected.”

  The two griffins parted, standing face-to-face in front of their partners but far enough back to make them easily visible to the onlookers. The Emperor was there, too, standing beside the statue of Xanathus with his eldest wife.

  From where she stood, Laela could see that the other Northerners were there, too. They had been allowed to stand right at the front of the Temple, on her left-hand side. They wore their own ceremonial outfits, but their griffins must have insisted on receiving the same kind of pampering as Oeka. They blended in with the Amorani griffins quite well.

  With everyone in place, Zaerhi let out a piercing screech from somewhere behind the statue.

  Silence fell, and as everyone settled down, a priest appeared from behind the altar as if by magic. He was bald and gold-painted, like Ocax, but as Laela and Akhane turned to face him over the altar, she saw that he was a much older man-probably the head priest for this Temple.

  The ceremony began.

  It was in Amorani for the most part, and other parts were in griffish, but Laela quickly lost track of it anyway. At certain points, she was prompted to repeat something the priest had said, and she dutifully obeyed, but most of the time all she did was stand there in a kind of daze. She kept stealing glances at the Prince, and he returned every one of them, bright-eyed and smiling.

  Laela’s head spun. This ain’t right! she thought, over and over. Princes aren’t this handsome outside of stories. Or this. . sweet.

  She had agreed to get married for the sake of duty. She had never once expected that she would be getting the man of her-damn it, of any girl’s dreams into the bargain. But here he was anyway, in the flesh, and she couldn’t help but feel some regret that she wasn’t going to live with him. Maybe he could come back with her to the North anyway, if she talked him into it. .

  She realised quickly enough how silly that idea was. If he came back with her, then sooner or later he would probably realise she had been lying about her parentage. And he wouldn’t want to leave his homeland
just for her sake.

  But with that in mind, Laela dropped her former determination with regard to the wedding night. She wouldn’t get to keep this spellbinding man, but damn it all, she was going to sleep with him come what may-even if that did mean spending the rest of her life disappointed by every other man she met.

  She gave his hand a squeeze and thrilled when he squeezed back.

  The ceremony ended when the Prince anointed Laela’s forehead with oil, announced something in Amorani, and leaned in to kiss her. She returned the kiss eagerly, and the crowd cheered.

  And that was it. She was married.

  Another procession took Laela back to the palace, but this time she walked to the front by her new husband’s side. Another feast had been laid out in the hall. A huge main table had been set up, and she sat at the head of it by the Prince’s side, where dish after exotic dish was laid out for her to try. She ate plenty, even when she didn’t recognise the food, which was most of the time. Everything was delicious.

  The Prince stayed by her, and so did every bit of the charm he had showed in the Temple. He kept his attention on her, pointed out the best foods, and talked almost only to her. Small talk for the moment, nothing very serious, but Laela drank in every word. She felt like she was in paradise.

  Oeka, meanwhile, looked to have had good luck, too. The Prince’s partner was a big, dark brown male griffin, and he and Oeka were eating the carcasses provided-in between making playful darts and hops toward each other. Even Laela knew enough by now to recognise griffish flirting when she saw it.

  The feasting went on well into the afternoon, and featured several performances by dancers and musicians, and even a pair of entertainers, who juggled a handful of razor-sharp knives between them. Laela enjoyed herself immensely.

  When the celebrations finally began to quiet down, Prince Akhane stood up-signalling that it was time for him and his bride to leave. Laela went with him quite happily, and the two griffins followed at a relaxed distance. They went, not back to Laela’s rooms, but to another, much larger chamber that she quickly realised must belong to the Prince. The vaulted ceiling was painted with a beautiful mural of suns and clouds, and the walls were lined with bookshelves recessed into the stone itself. The large, silk-covered bed had netting draped over it to keep out mosquitoes, but that only served to make it look more exotic and exciting.

  The Prince courteously ushered her to a low table surrounded by cushions. “Please do sit with me. I hope my room is to your liking.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Laela said honestly, accepting the seat. In the background, Oeka wandered off into the adjoining nest chamber with her new friend, and Inva and the other attendants stationed themselves discreetly around the room, ready to leap in the moment they were needed.

  The Prince sat down close by Laela-close enough that they were touching. “How did you enjoy the feasting, my lady?”

  “It was great,” said Laela. She smiled shyly at him. “Yeh can call me Laela now, I think. I mean, now I’m yer wife an’ all.”

  “Of course, Laela.” He smiled back. “Call me Akhane, then. Forgive me if I am awkward, but this is my first. . I mean, I have never. .”

  “What is it?” Laela wanted to touch his face.

  He smiled again, but there was a hint of nervousness there now. “You are my first wife. I have never married before.”

  “Me neither,” said Laela. She settled down, leaning against him. He put an arm around her, his hand resting on her lap. For a while the two of them stayed like that, warmth mingling, hearts beating in time.

  “I hope I ain-I’m not too disappointing for yer first wife,” Laela said eventually. “I mean, bein’ what I am.”

  “What?” Akhane’s arm tightened slightly on her. “No, not at all. I hope I did not make you think so; if I did, I did not mean it.”

  “I’m a half-breed, though,” said Laela. “And a b-not legitimate.”

  “I don’t mind.” The Prince lifted her chin so he could look her in the face. “Your eyes are magnificent. Blue as the sky. I have never seen eyes like them.”

  Laela realised she was blushing. “Thanks. .”

  “You seem ashamed,” he commented. “Is being a half-breed so shameful?”

  “I dunno,” said Laela. “I mean, it’s. . not easy sometimes.”

  “Tell me about it.” He sounded as if he really was interested. “I have always wanted to know more about your homeland. Tell me about your life there. What it is like for you as a half-breed.”

  So Laela told him. She told him about the North and about the South, and about how both the races there lived. She told him about the Eyries, and the wars. And she told him about what it was like to be a half-breed in Cymria. He listened and almost never interrupted, only asking a few quiet questions here and there, and she found herself going on, telling him things she had forgotten she knew.

  “You love this place,” Akhane said when she had finally begun to run out of words. “This land you came from.”

  “Yeah.” Laela smiled. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

  “I would dearly love to see it one day,” Akhane mused. “Perhaps I will come and visit you there.”

  “Please do,” Laela blurted. “I’m sure yeh’d be welcome. I could show yeh everything-the Eyrie, the Hatchery, the Temple. .”

  “I would like that.”

  Inva had put some wine on the table for them. Laela took some and drank to soothe her dry throat. “So that’s about all there is from me,” she said, feeling bolder now. “Why don’t you tell me about you now?”

  “Me?” Akhane sounded a little taken aback. “Oh. . there is not much for me to tell.”

  “Tell just that, then,” said Laela. “I wanna know more about my husband.”

  “As you wish.” Akhane sipped from his own cup, and began. “I was born here in Instabahn, and the Emperor is my father as you know. But the Emperor has five sons, and I am the youngest, born from one of his minor wives. She came from the Maijan Islands, sent over as a gift by her father, who governs one of the islands. I am-was-the only one of the Emperor’s sons to be unmarried, and since I am a lowly son, there was no hurry to find a first wife for me.”

  “What do you do, then?” asked Laela. “Does the Emperor ask yeh to do things for him? Do yeh have duties?”

  “Few,” said Akhane. “I have no prospect of ever taking the throne, and my duties are purely ceremonial. Most of my brothers are governing the outlying states or fighting in Erebus, but I am the scholarly member of the Imperial Family, and spend most of my time with my books. But I travel as well, to Maijan and even to Erebus. To learn.”

  “Learn what?” Laela nearly squirmed with excitement-she didn’t think she’d even heard of Erebus, which lay even further east than Amoran.

  “Everything there is to know,” said Akhane. “But I have a great interest in magic and the mysteries of the gods.” He drank more wine. “I chase legends, myths, rumours, always searching.”

  “For what?” Laela was loving every moment of this.

  Akhane’s brow furrowed slightly. “I am convinced that griffins are not the only living creatures that can use magic. Somewhere in this world, I believe, there are humans who have unnatural powers-perhaps magical, or something beyond even that.”

  Laela thought of Arenadd. “And what have yeh found?”

  “Nothing. Nothing solid. But I will go on searching. Perhaps I should try your own homeland next, do you think?”

  His tone was playful, but Laela nodded. “I think there are things in Cymria that might be like what you’re lookin’ for.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “Well then, I shall have to come by one day.” Akhane stretched, and glanced at the window, where the light was beginning to turn gold and orange. “Now then, there is a more important matter to speak of.”

  “What’s that?” Laela’s heart beat faster in anticipation.

  “As your new husband, it is traditional th
at I give you a gift,” said Akhane. “On our wedding night, you may name any gift that I can give, and you will have it.”

  “Oh.” The question caught Laela off guard. She looked speculatively around the room, taking in the decorations. “Anything?”

  “For you, anything.”

  “All right, then.” Laela pointed. “That’s what I want.”

  Akhane followed her finger. “Her?”

  Inva froze.

  “Yeah, that’s right,” said Laela. “I want her. That slave right there.”

  “Are you certain. .?” Akhane looked nonplussed.

  “That’s all right, isn’t it?” said Laela. “Slaves are property. So yeh can give one to me.”

  “Certainly, but it is a very odd gift to ask for,” said Akhane. “She is only one house-slave, and I did not think your people kept slaves-especially not of your own kind.”

  “We don’t,” said Laela. “But I ain’t keepin’ her. I want you t’give her to me, so I can set her free.”

  Inva hadn’t moved, or spoken in all this time. Her face had gone carefully blank.

  “And then?” Akhane inquired.

  “An’ then she can decide what to do,” said Laela, raising her voice for Inva’s benefit. “But if she wants, I’ll take her back home an’ give her somewhere to live. That’ll be up to her, though.”

  “Very well, then,” said Akhane. “If you want her, she is yours. But one slave is a very modest gift, especially if you do not intend to keep her.”

  “Agreed,” said Laela. “I’ll take a hundred.”

  Akhane broke into a fit of coughing. “One hundred. .?”

  Laela couldn’t help it: She burst out laughing. “All right, I was just jokin’. We’ll pay for them.”

  Akhane managed to stop coughing and laughed as well. “It is fine; I already knew that you and your father were here to bring your kind back to their homeland. We have many darkmen here, spread over the Empire-I doubt anyone knows just how many. It will take a long time and much trading to gather them all, and we will need to find new slaves to replace them before we let them go.”

 

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