He felt the temperature increase subtly within the great hall. The candles placed around the circle and the braziers in the corners flickered. Through the window, Derwyn could see the twilight fading fast, but within the hall, it seemed to grow even darker.
The hairs on the back of his neck prickled and stood up as the air within the circle became hazy. Some 264 thing that looked like smoke appeared within the circle, except it wasn’t smoke. It was more like a mist, but it didn’t simply rise; it swirled and undulated, coalescing into a pattern that spiraled back into itself like a smoky whirlpool.
Derwyn moistened his lips nervously and leaned forward in his chair as the outline of a figure started to appear within the spiraling mist, or whatever that ethereal smoke was. As the smoke faded, the figure resolved, walking toward them slowly as if through some sort of tunnel.
In a sense, thought Derwyn, that was exactly what it was. Somewhere in Anuire, in some locked room, that spiral had appeared, and their informant was walking toward it. If such a smoky spiral had appeared within his room, Derwyn wondered, even knowing where it led, very little could have inspired him to walk toward it. It was like contemplating entering the Shadow World.
If the need were great enough, he supposed he could do it, but it would take a lot.
As the figure started to come through, Derwyn saw that it was female.
The long hair down almost to the waist and the slender curves were unmistakable. And then the smoke faded behind the woman as she stepped out into the circle, and Derwyn sucked in his breath sharply as he saw who it was.
It was Princess Laera! He had not seen her in some years, not since that last, fateful Summer Court when all of this had started, but he recognized her at once. She was, after all, the woman who would have been his stepmother, even though they were almost the same age. She had grown even more beautiful since he had seen her last, and despite the cold anger in her gaze, Derwyn couldn’t a6S take his eyes off her.
He was stunned, and not just by her beauty. The emperor’s own sister was spying for Boeruine! He glanced at his father with disbelief, but Arwyn just sat calmly, sipping at his mead and watching her.
“Welcome, Your Highness,” he said, his lips twisting into a slight, ironic smile.
She glanced angrily at Derwyn. “What is he doing here? I told you I would speak to you alone!”
“Since when do you dictate conditions here?” his father replied coldly.
“Need I remind you, Laera, that it was you who came to me? If I choose to have my son present, that is my prerogative.”
She glared at him, but accepted it. “As you wish,” she said. “I suppose Derwyn can be trusted.” She spoke of him as if he weren’t even there. “It is just that I am taking an enormous risk in contacting you like this.”
“Risk?” said Arwyn scornfully. “What risk is there to you? If you have left your bedroom door bolted, as you doubtless have, who would force his way into the chamber of a princess of Anuire? And if someone came knocking while you were here, you could easily claim to have been asleep. The chances you are taking here are negligible, so don’t speak to me of risk. You took a greater risk in sending word to me by messenger when you first contacted me with your kind offer of assistance.” He grinned wolfishly.
“Now, what word do you bring?”
She lifted her chin defiantly, but kept her temper in check. Her eyes, however, spoke volumes. “My brother has returned to Anuire with the army,” she replied.
Derwyn noticed the corner of his father’s mouth a66 twitch slightly when she said, “My brother.” He did not like any contradiction, no matter how unintentional or indirect, of his claim that Michael was only a pretender, an imposter. “He’s returned, you say?”
He glanced at his son. “And none of our troops or garrisons reported any engagements?”
Derwyn shook his head. “No, not as of the last report.”
“That is because there were no engagements,” Laera said, “at least, not with your troops. They went into the Shadow World, intent on finding a portal to your coastal region, but something went wrong.
They came out in the Seamist Mountains and were attacked by ogres. And then when they went back into the Shadow World, they fought another battle, this time with the undead.”
“How unfortunate,” said Arwyn with a grim little smile. “I take it the casualties were heavy?”
“Apparently,” said Laera. “I do not know how great their losses were, but it seems they were significant. Michael came back very much depressed. I do not recall when I’ve seen his spirits sink so low.
The troops looked utterly exhausted and disorganized.
If there was ever a good time for you to march upon Anuire, then this it.”
“Indeed, it would seem so,” Arwyn concurred.
“You have done well, Laera. Very well, indeed.”
‘Just remember your promise,” she told him.
“I remember,” he replied. “I shall keep my end of the bargain. See to it that you keep yours.”
“You may count on it,” she said. She glanced at the wizard. “I am ready now.”
Callador raised his arms and spoke an incantation. The whirling smoke appeared behind Laera in
the circle once again. She turned and went back through the misty tunnel. Derwyn watched her walk away, disappearing into the smoke, and then it dissipated, and she was gone.
Callador took his staff and held it out before him.
He walked around the circle in the opposite direction to the one in which he’d drawn it, clearing it, then blew out his candle stubs, picked them up, moistened his thumb and forefinger and pinched the wicks to make sure they were out, put them in his robe, turned, and walked away.
“Wait,” said Derwyn.
Callador paused and turned around.
“What about those herbs you sprinkled on the floor? And the chalk-marked circle?”
“A broom and a scrub brush should do adequately,” the old wizard replied flatly. Then he turned and left the hall.
Derwyn snorted. “The least he could do was clean up after himself.”
“Never mind,” his father said. “The servants will see to it.”
“If we can find one who will not fear to come near that thing,” said Derwyn.
“They will fear me more if they do not,” said Arwyn. “Forget the circle. I swear, sometimes I think you should have been born a woman.
Haelyn knows, you’re fussy enough. We have far more important matters to consider. The Pretender will be vulnerable now. As Laera said, the time is right.”
“And you trust her?” Derwyn said.
“Oh, yes. I trust her.”
“By all the gods, why? She’s Michael’s sister! Why should she betray Anuire?”
“Because she seeks revenge,” his father said. “And I trust her desire to get it.”
“Revenge? On Michael?”
“No, on Dosiere. She claims he raped her.”
“Aedan?” Derwyn was shocked. “A rapist? I don’t believe it!”
“For that matter, neither did I,” his father replied dryly. “I never cared much for his father, but the boy was a good lad. One should always check one’s sources, and I had some of our people in Anuire make a few inquiries. With enough drink in him, one of the Roele House Guard admitted knowledge that Laera and Dosiere had an affair. Right here, in fact, during the last Summer Court, under my very nose.
It seems she had a habit of stealing into his room at night, wearing nothing but her bedclothes, and staying nearly until morning. That hardly sounds like rape to me.”
“Aedan and the Princess Laera?” Derwyn said with astonishment.
“The passions of youth,” his father said. “She probably seduced him.
I had all the palace staff questioned, and several of them admitted knowing of it.
They had no proof, of course, which they claimed was why they never reported it to me. It was merely palace gossip, and they feared recriminations
. I reassured them I was not interested in either proof or punishment, just what they’d heard or suspected.
Several of them admitted hearing of it from the guards. Two of the housemaids found stains on young Dosiere’s bed sheets, which is not incriminating in itself, of course, but bears weight when added to the rest. And one of the grooms reported hearing quite a row between them in the stables. He claimed
not to know what it was about. He was not close enough to make out what they saidr so he claimed -but it appears they had a falling-out, and she bears him a grudge for it. My guess is that Dosiere finally came to his senses and ended it. And there is nothing more spiteful than a woman who’s been spurned .
“But to betray her own people …
“She cares nothing for anyone except herself,” said Arwyn. “She is selfish, willful, arrogant, and spoiled, a spiteful, vicious little twit. I never really liked her. I would have much preferred her mother.
But in denying me the empress, Lord Tieran also spared me the task of marrying her daughter. I thought if I could not have the mother, I would bolster my claim with Laera as my wife. I was furious with him for interfering with my plans, but I suppose I should probably be grateful to Tieran, rest his sanctimonious, self-righteousness soul.”
“This promise that she spoke of,” Derwyn said, what did she mean? Did she bargain with you to spare Michael’s life?”
Arwyn snorted. “He didn’t even enter into it. She cares nothing about what happens to him.”
Derwyn frowned. “So then, what was the nature of the bargain?”
“She had but two demands in exchange for her cooperation. The first was that she decides the fate of Aedan Dosiere.”
“And the second?”
“She is, of course, concerned about her own fate, as well,” his father replied wryly. “She wanted to ensure rank and position for herself under the coming regime. Our little princess has no wish to step down in station.” Derwyn’s eyes grew wide. “Surely, you don’t mean to tell me you promised to honor your original betrothal?” he said with dismay.
“Of course not,” said his father. ‘I promised her she could marry you.”
a7l
chCt]p-tC-r Th-ree
It had been a long time since Aedan had been back to the Green Basilisk Tavern, but tonight, he felt in the need of some strong drink and some company outside the palace. At the Imperial Cairn, there were always demands on his time, always at least a dozen things that required his attention, from routine matters having to do with the running of the household to correspondence and dispatches from distant provinces-one noble or another making entreaties to the emperor-matters of strategy and policy having to do with the war against Boeruine. However, there was nothing so important that it could not wait till morning. His staff was well trained to handle matters in his absence, and if anything urgent did happen to come up, such as the emperor’s requiring his presence, he had left word where he could be found. He did not think the emperor would require his presence tonight.
They had returned to the capital late in the afternoon, as the shadows lengthened in the plazas of Anuire. The streets had all been eerily silent as the weary troops trudged back to the parade ground by the docks, where they drilled regularly and assembled to go out on campaigns. A lot of people had turned out to watch the army as it marched through the city. They lined the route all the way to the parade ground, but no one cheered their arrival.
When they saw the condition of the troops, they just stood silently and watched with grim faces, many of them scanning the ranks as they went by, searching for loved ones. Too many of those faces would be twisted with grief tonight, thought Aedan. Too many wives, mothers, and children would be crying for the men who had not returned.
After the troops had been dismissed from the parade ground and they had broken up to go back to their homes or their barracks, Aedan had returned to the palace with the emperor and some of the other nobles, such as young Viscounts Ghieste and Alam, whose rank-and hostage status, though that was never mentioned-gave them comfortable quarters at the Carin. Michael had retired to his rooms, saying he did not wish to be disturbed. All the way back from the Spiderfell, right up until the time they disembarked the boats at the Imperial Cairn, he had spoken not a word, brooding all the while. In a war that had its share of defeats as well as victories, this campaign had been the most disasterous yet, and Michael blamed himself.
Aedan knew better than to try lifting his spirits at a time like this.
Michael needed time to be alone, and Aedan needed to get lost in a crowd and take some time away from his responsibilities. So he had bathed and changed his clothes and taken a boat back across the bay, then headed through the dark streets alone toward the artists’ quarter and the Green Basihsk Tavern.
He recalled the sinking feeling in his stomach when they came out of the portal from the Shadow World and realized they had not reached the plains of Diemed, but the depths of the Spiderfell. Of course, there had been little choice. Risk the dangers of the Spiderfell or remain behind in the Shadow World to battle the undead and try to outrun the fire.
Their chances if they had stayed in the Shadow World would have been slim. Perhaps now, thought Aedan, Michael would finally give up this madness of trying to cheat time. Even by going through the Shadow World, the army could not be everywhere at once, and each time they had gone in there, the odds against them had increased. This time, their luck had finally run out.
There was no way, at present, of knowing how heavy the casualties were.
Aedan would find out tomorrow, after the captains delivered up their muster rolls. Right now, he simply didn’t want to know. He felt depressed enough. They had wasted no time in reforming and getting on the march again as soon as they came out into the Spiderfell.
The troops were tired, and many were walking wounded, but at least the fact that they could walk had saved them from being left behind.
That was the worst part of the whole thing, Aedan thought. He had no way of knowing how many wounded men had to be left behind because they could not make it through the portal. Some had been fortunate enough to have their comrades pick them up and carry them back through, but all too many had been left to the fire and the mercies of the undead.
And the undead had no mercy. If they went back, they might once again encounter those poor bastards who had been left behind, only this time, they would be marching with the ranks of walking corpses. Aedan would not have wished such a fate on his worst enemy.
The Cold Rider. The halfling had been right. Terribly right.
T here was no trail where they came out in the Spiderfell. They were in thick woods, and a squad of men had to be sent forward with the scouts to clear their way through the undergrowth. It slowed their progress considerably. It was not yet morning, and even in daytime, little sun penetrated the Spiderfell.
The elves, however, had an unerring sense of direction, and they were able to point the way. They headed south, toward Diemed.
As Aedan rode together with Sylvanna, right behind Michael, he felt a prickling at the back of his neck. Viscount Ghieste had insisted that Michael take his horse, and he now rode behind Viscount Alam on his.
Michael had wanted to march on foot, along with the troops, but young Ghieste had insisted, and Michael was too tired to argue. The divine wrath had left him spent once it had passed, and even riding, he slumped in the saddle as if wounded.
No one spoke. They marched in utter silence, only
?7S
the steady tramping of feet and the jingling of gear breaking the stillness of the forest. At some point, Aedan wasn’t sure exactly when, he realized what sounded wrong. No birds. It was just like in the Shadow World. Dawn approached and the birds should have been chirping.
But there were no birds.
“You feel it, too?” Sylvanna asked.
He glanced at her and nodded.
“What is it?”
He shook his head, scanning the forest all
around them. “No birds,” he said.
“I had noticed that as well,” she said, “but that’s not it. There’s something else……
Aedan heard something scurrying through the underbrush off to his left.
He glanced quickly in that direction, and saw fern branches moving from the passage of … something.
“Pass the word for the troops to be on guard,” he said.
As the word was passed down the column, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly in an effort to steady his nerves. After what they had just been through, he didn’t know if the troops had enough strength to fight off some new threat.
Again, scurrying noises off to the side. He looked again, but whatever it was escaped his notice.
“There’s something moving in the brush,” he said.
“I know. I heard it,” Sylvanna replied, her gaze on the underbrush around them. “And not just something. There’s more than one.”
Aedan saw Caelum Ghieste and Taelan Alam looking around them, as well.
The sounds had not escaped their notice. What was more, they seemed to be increasing. There was more rustling in the underbrush around them now. Aedan glanced over his shoulder at the troops. They were aware of it.
Moments earlier, the men had been simply marching at a weary pace, their faces drawn and haggard, their shoulders slumped. Now, they were all alert and glancing to their sides, watching the brush and keeping their hands close to their weapons.
Aedan spurred his horse slightly and trotted up to Korven and Michael.
“There is considerable rustling in the brush around us,” he said.
“I know,” said Korven. Michael merely nodded.
His earlier slumped posture had changed. He sat erect in his saddle, clearly tired, but scanning the area around them intently. Visibility was still poor, but the sky was getting lighter, and more light was filtering through the trees.
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