Lord of the Shadows (26 page)

acinta delivered the news that the
Tsarina
was heading into port while Alenor was still having breakfast in her room. The little queen sat propped up in bed with a tray on her lap that almost groaned under the weight of food. Alenor ate doggedly, obviously unenthusiastic about the task. Sitting beside her on the bed was a plump gray cat, eyeing the contents of her plate with a hopeful expression.

“Do you think it's Kirsh?” she asked through a mouthful of toast, looking rather alarmed by the prospect.

Alenor had been home just for long enough to start taking control of things. Her seal remained lost, so she was able to delay signing the alarming number of laws and proclamations that Kirsh's Senetian advisers had drawn up in her absence. The stalling tactic had proved very effective but it would mean nothing if the regent had returned. He had his own seal and until Alenor came of age, it far outweighed her authority.

“I've a bad feeling it might be,” Jacinta said, walking to the
window. She looked down over the sea crashing against the cliffs far below them, but the harbor wasn't visible from the palace.

“But that means his guard will be with him. Alexin is coming home.”

“Yes,” Jacinta sighed. “Alexin will be coming home. And if you've any sense at all, Allie, you'll post him to the other side of Dhevyn for a while. Kirsh will still be on the lookout. You can't risk so much as a sideways glance at him.”

Alenor nodded in reluctant agreement. “What are we going to do?”

“Well, the first thing we're going to do is not panic,” Jacinta declared, turning back to Alenor. “The second thing you're going to do is finish your breakfast. And the third thing you're going to do is get up and get dressed and greet your husband as if you're actually glad to see him.”

“He won't believe that,” the queen scoffed.

“No, but it's important his advisers do.”

“You know, Jacinta,” Alenor noted with a slight frown, “I think you actually enjoy all this dastardly intrigue and court politics.”

“Well, it's more interesting than fending off unwanted husbands,” she replied with a smile. “Eat the sausage, too, Allie. Red meat is good for you.”

“
I
should find you a husband,” Alenor threatened. “Someone old and ugly and warty with a lecherous drool and scabby skin and a really foul body odor.”

“None of which would bother me in the slightest if he had half a brain,” Jacinta announced airily, sitting on the bed beside her. “Now finish your breakfast or I'll have you force fed. And don't let me catch you feeding that damned cat, either. You spoil her shamelessly.”

“You're worse than Dorra,” the queen accused through a mouthful of eggs. “If I keep eating like this I'll get fat.”

“You could do with some fat on you,” Jacinta told her. “You're nothing but skin and bones. I don't know what Alexin sees in you.”

“Jacinta!”
Alenor hissed. “Don't say such things.”

“We're alone, Allie. Nobody can hear us.”

“That's not the point. If you keep making comments like that, one day somebody
will
hear you, and then where will you be?”

“I'll be fine,” she shrugged. “It's your scrawny little neck on the line, my queen, not mine.”

“You are truly the most terrible person I know, Jacinta D'Orlon,” she said with a grin. “No wonder nobody wants to marry you.”

Jacinta smiled at her cousin, glad to see she had eaten most of the eggs.

“That's just the way I like it, too,” she agreed. “Finish your toast.”

“You're a bossy old cow,” Alenor grumbled as she took a bite.

“And don't you forget it,” Jacinta warned as she rose to her feet to answer a knock at the door. She opened it to find Dimitri Bayel standing outside.

“The queen really isn't ready to receive visitors, my lord.”

“This can't wait, my lady.”

She stood back to let him enter, knowing the Seneschal would never intrude upon Alenor in her rooms so early if it wasn't important.

“We've already had word about the
Tsarina
docking this morning,” she informed him as she closed the door.

“A minor inconvenience in light of the news I bring, my lady. Good morning, your majesty.”

“Good morning, Dimitri,” Alenor replied. “You haven't come to bully me about how much I eat, have you?”

“I wish that was the only concern I have, your majesty. I would undertake the task gladly. The news I bring is much graver. I've just received a bird from Avacas. They have appointed the new Lord of the Suns.”

“
Lord
of the Suns?” Jacinta asked. “I thought we were expecting a Lady of the Suns?”

“We were, my lady. The new Lord of the Suns is Dirk Provin.”

“That's ridiculous,” Alenor laughed. “Who sent you that message, Dimitri? They are pulling your leg, I'm certain.”

“No, your majesty, I fear the message is genuine.”

“How did
that
happen?” Jacinta asked with a frown.

“Paige Halyn's will named the man or woman holding the position of right hand to the High Priestess of the Shadowdancers as his successor. Dirk Provin is, or was, the holder of that position at the time of Lord Halyn's death.”

“But the Lord of the Suns was assassinated. Surely the appointment of the new prelate should have been done by election?”

Dimitri seemed surprised Jacinta had known that. “He died more than sixty days after he was wounded, my lady.”

Jacinta looked at Alenor, who had gone very quiet. “He's quite a piece of work, this cousin of yours, Allie.”

“What do you mean?” Alenor asked in a small voice.

“I
mean
we have a Dhevynian ruling the Church of the Suns for the first time in history,” she explained.

“Dirk Provin's nationality does not seem to have influenced his actions thus far,” Dimitri pointed out. “I don't see he has much concern for our needs.”

“This can't be an accident,” she concluded. “The coincidences
that
would imply defy logic.”

“Which makes his appointment all the more disturbing, my lady.”

“What should we do?” Alenor asked. The news seemed to have rocked her to the core.

“You'll have to send an envoy, Allie. To officially extend your congratulations and assure the new Lord of the Suns of your undying loyalty to the Church.”

“The Lady Jacinta is right, your majesty,” Dimitri agreed. “You must send someone. And the sooner the better.”

“Who?”

“I'll go,” Jacinta volunteered.

“But I need you here.”

“You need to find out what Dirk Provin is up to more than you need me standing over you to make sure you eat breakfast, Alenor.”

“Once again, the Lady Jacinta speaks the truth, your majesty. And I'm inclined to support her suggestion she represent you. She is your cousin, and as such has sufficient rank to do so without insult, and she, at least, can be trusted not to be corrupted by the taint that surrounds Dirk Provin.”

“Why, thank you, Lord Bayel,” Jacinta said graciously. “That was very kind of you to say. Not to mention very dramatic.
The taint that surrounds him?
I do believe adversity brings out the poet in you.”

Dimitri smiled sourly. “In truth, my lady, I fear it usually brings out my gout. But I do think you are the best person for this job. From what little I know of Johan Thorn's bastard, he's neither easily fooled nor easily thwarted, but in you, I think, he may meet his match.”

Jacinta wasn't sure if that was a compliment or not.

“I wish you wouldn't call him that, Dimitri,” Alenor said. “You make him sound so … evil.”

“Perhaps he is, your majesty. I suggest we won't know until the Lady Jacinta has seen him at work.”

“Please let me go, Allie,” Jacinta begged. “I want to do this for you.”

“You want to run out on me just when I need you the most,” Alenor objected. “Kirsh is sailing into Kalarada Harbor as we speak.”

“You can handle Kirshov Latanya,” she assured the queen. “Besides, you've been ill. You can get away with swooning and fainting for months if you have to, whenever you don't want to deal with him.”

Alenor thought about it for a moment and then shrugged. “All right, you can go, I suppose. I think we'd better find out what Dirk is up to and there's no way I can go myself. I was away far too long the last time and I refuse to leave Kirsh in Kalarada on his own. But I have one condition.”

“What's that?”

“That you find me another lady-in-waiting before you leave.” The queen smiled and added, “One that isn't a bully like you.”

Jacinta was relieved it was the only thing Alenor asked for. “I'll see what I can do,” she promised.

Jacinta saw Dimitri to the door, stepping outside with him when she noticed the expression on his face.

“There's something else I didn't mention,” he told her in a low voice. “The High Priestess announced the Goddess has spoken to her again.”

“What did the
Goddess
have to say this time?”

“There's to be an eclipse. It's supposed to be a sign.”

“A sign of what?” Jacinta asked skeptically.

“I don't know, my lady, but if it's true, even the most cynical nonbeliever will start to wonder at the power of the Shadowdancers.”

“What's he up to, do you think?”

“Dirk Provin?” Dimitri asked. “I have no idea, my lady, but I'll tell you this much. Whatever it is, it doesn't look good for Dhevyn.”

“Alenor clings to the hope he's on our side.”

Dimitri frowned. “She also clings to the hope that somehow she and Alexin Seranov will one day find happiness.” When he saw Jacinta's shocked expression, he smiled sadly. “Oh yes, I know all about it. And have no fear, I would never betray my queen, but she is hoping for a miracle when there are none to be had. She has your heart, but not your head, I'm afraid. You must let her down gently when you break it to her that her hopes and dreams lack substance.”

“You say when, not
if
,” Jacinta pointed out. “Don't you allow for even the remote possibility some good may come of this?”

He shook his head, a weary and disillusioned old man. “Nothing good ever comes of dealing with Senet and the Church of the Suns, my lady, and it can only get worse if it involves Dirk Provin. You mark my words.”

fter several more nights of cramps and shivering, of sweats and chills, Misha was looking particularly haggard. Tia was worried about him, although Master Helgin seemed quite pleased with his progress. He also seemed a little surprised Misha had come this far and not given in to the call of the poppy-dust.

Tia found the old physician in the kitchen carefully measuring out Misha's next dose. It had been another long night and neither she nor Misha had slept much. Rubbing her eyes, she sat down, and then folded her arms on the table, put her head down and closed her eyes.

“You should have woken me,” Helgin scolded.

“Why?” she mumbled. “It's not like you could have done anything. Misha just needs someone to hold his hand to help him get through the night. We just talk most of the time.”

“Well, your hand is far more pleasant to hold than mine,” he remarked with a smile in his voice.

“What's that supposed to mean?” she asked, looking up at him.

“Just that if I had a choice between sitting up all night with a crusty old physician or a beautiful young woman, I'd know which one I'd choose.”

“It's not like that.”

“I wasn't implying it was
like
anything, Tia. In fact, I'm very glad you're here. I don't have your stamina anymore. I can't get by on two hours’ sleep at my age.”

“I'm not too thrilled about it at my age, either,” she said, stifling a yawn.

“It was never my intention to force you to share my suffering, Tia.”

She looked to the door as Misha limped into the kitchen. Despite the ravages of withdrawal, he could walk without the crutch now and if you looked at him when he was dressed and
standing still, you couldn't even tell he was crippled. It was only when he walked and his limp betrayed him, or he tried to lift anything with his left arm, you noticed there was something wrong.

“You're not forcing me,” she assured him with a wan smile. “I get a kick out of seeing how long I can go without sleep.”

Misha sat down heavily on the bench opposite Tia and looked up at Helgin.

“How much longer, Master Helgin?”

“It will be ready soon,” Helgin said, stirring the dust carefully into the cup.

“I meant before I'm free of the poppy-dust.”

“Another few months at least.”

Misha shook his head. “I can't do this for another few months.”

“You can't quit now!” Tia urged. “You're almost there!”

“But that's exactly what I intend to do, Tia. Quit. Completely. Master Helgin, what will happen if I simply stop taking the poppy-dust?”

“I wouldn't recommend—”

“I didn't ask for your recommendation, Helgin, I asked what would happen to me.”

“Well, you're down to considerably less of the drug than you were taking when you first came to Mil. But the symptoms you suffer now would become much worse. You may even start to have fits again. And the cravings will be unbearable.”

“How long will it last?”

“If you survive them, the acute symptoms may go on for two or three days. But only, I stress—
if
you survive them. Simply stopping the dust could kill you, Misha.”

“I can't keep this up for months, Helgin. I'm exhausted and so is everyone else. I can't put myself through it and I won't put Tia through it with me.”

“Misha, I was only joking about not getting any sleep,” Tia hurried to assure him, thinking she was responsible for his sudden decision to do this dangerous thing.

“I know you were, Tia, and in truth, concern for your sleeping habits is not my only reason for this.”

“I would think you'd need an excellent reason for attempting such a foolish and dangerous course of action,” Master Helgin said.

“This has got something to do with Dirk, hasn't it?” Tia asked.

He nodded. “I know you think I'm imagining things, Tia, but I can't believe Dirk Provin is now Lord of the Suns by some strange set of circumstances that placed him in the right place at the right time. And with this eclipse the Goddess—or rather, if I am to believe your version of events, Dirk Provin—has predicted, then the logical assumption is that he's planning something to coincide with it. As he already appears to have removed Belagren, I can only conclude my father is his next target. Either way, I need to be there, either to protect my father or to step up and take his place if Dirk succeeds.”

“You want
us
to help
you
protect the Lion of Senet?” Tia snorted. “You're asking a bit much, don't you think?”

“My offer still stands, Tia,” he promised. “I will withdraw the Senetians from Dhevyn as soon as I have the power to do so. Saving my father from Dirk Provin will give me that power almost as certainly as assuming the throne myself.”

“If you survive,” Helgin warned.

“I'm not going to go on like this for the rest of my life. And I'll not listen to your logical arguments about a manageable addiction. I'll either be free of this or I will die trying and I have neither the time nor the will to take the safe road in doing it.”

“What if you die?” Tia asked bluntly. “Have you thought about that?”

“If I don't survive it, Tia, it will make little difference to anyone. My father probably thinks I'm already dead. He may even be hoping I am.”

“It would make a difference to me,” she objected. “I haven't sat by you for all these weeks just so you can throw it away on a noble gesture, Misha.”

“I wish it was noble, Tia,” he sighed. “But I fear I'm driven by cowardice more than courage. I've had enough. I can't even bear the thought of this going on for another week, let alone
months. I would rather suffer a few days of unbearable agony and be done with it, one way or another.”

Master Helgin held out the cup to Misha with a sympathetic smile. “Take this, your highness. Once you've stabilized, you'll be able to think about it more clearly.”

Misha held out his trembling hands for them to see. “Look at me, Helgin. I'm a wreck. I would
rather
risk death than keep on like this.”

“Then we'll start tomorrow,” Helgin suggested, offering him the poppy-dust again.

Misha slapped the cup from his hand, spilling the precious drug on the floor. “No! We do it now. While I still have the strength to deny it. Don't offer it to me again, Helgin. Get rid of what you have stashed away. I'm done with it, even if it kills me.”

Without waiting for their response, Misha pushed himself to his feet and limped from the kitchen. Tia watched him leave, torn between admiration for what he was attempting and fear for what it would do to him.

Helgin turned to Tia, desperately worried. “Talk to him, Tia. Tell him how foolish this is.”

She shook her head slowly. “I think he's right, Helgin.”

“You can't be serious!”

“He can't take much more of this. Maybe it's better this way.”

“He'll die! Do you want that?”

“Of course I don't want him to die,” she said. “But he has a point. Would you want to go on living as he is?”

“The point is would I want to go on
living
,” the old man retorted. “Why not just give him a blade and let him slit his wrists? It would be kinder than what he's proposing.”

Tia climbed wearily to her feet. “Maybe it will come to that, Helgin, but in the end, it's Misha's choice, not ours.”

Later that day, she found Misha sitting on the beach, staring out over the water. He looked up with a frown as she approached.

“Save your breath, Tia. I am determined to do this and lecturing me won't help.”

“I didn't come to lecture you,” she said as she sat down beside him. “I think you may be doing the right thing.”

He laughed bitterly. “Will you still think that tomorrow when I'm foaming at the mouth?”

“My father was an addict, Misha. I've seen the worst poppy-dust can do to a man. That doesn't frighten me.”

“It frightens me.”

“Then you'll just have to find a way to deal with it. If this works, in a few days, you'll be a free man.”

“And if it doesn't, I'll be dead, and that will be a release in itself.”

Tia said nothing for a time, just sat with him on the warm white sand, listening to the soothing wash of the ocean.

“Will you promise me something?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“No matter how bad it gets. No matter how much I beg, cajole or threaten you, don't give in to me. Don't let me take any more; not out of pity. If it kills me, that's the price I'm willing to pay. If I'm alive, then you must assume I can bear the pain, even if
you
can't bear watching it.”

“If you want.”

“Swear it, Tia,” he insisted. “I've barely got the strength to do this once. If you give in to me out of pity or compassion or even anger, then I'll never have the courage to try again. Swear to me you'll let me die rather than give me more poppy-dust to relieve my suffering.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes.”

“Then I swear it,” she promised. “But I have a bad feeling you're going to hate me for that oath before this is over.”

He smiled at her and placed his trembling hand over hers. “Not as much as I'd hate you if I awoke to discover I was still an addict because you pitied me.”

“I don't pity you, Misha.”

He looked at her closely. He had to force his eyes to focus on her. It wouldn't be much longer now, she guessed, before he
began to wish he'd not refused the poppy-dust Helgin had offered him.

“I'm not sure I've done anything to deserve much else.”

“Pity is something you give to helpless creatures with no control over their fate.” His hand was still resting on hers. The palm was sweating and she could feel him shaking.

“And you think I have control … over my fate?”

“You've made the choice to live or die the way you choose, Misha. That's not the action of a helpless creature.”

“No, it's the action of a desperate one.” He forced a thin smile, but his forehead glistened with sweat and the trembling was getting worse. He was long overdue for his next dose of poppy-dust.

She smiled, hoping the conversation was distracting him. “Well, just don't tell anybody how desperate you are, and nobody will ever know.”

“I read about an ancient cult once that believed one kept coming back after each life to pay for the previous one.” He smiled shakily. Tia wondered if he was trying to drag up any old memory he could find to keep the present at bay. “Ella had a fit when she found me reading the book and confiscated it before my eternal soul could be endangered. But it was an interesting idea. And if it's true, then I must have done something very good in a previous life to deserve a friend like you in this one.”

“I'm more interested in what you're planning to do in
this
life, Misha.”

“Ah!” he said. “That's what this … is all about, isn't it? You don't care … about me at all. You're only interested in freeing… Dhevyn.”

“And taking down Dirk Provin,” she added with a grin. “You forgot that bit.”

“How silly of me. I think I should—” He doubled over suddenly, clutching his stomach, unable to speak.

“Misha!”

“Get me… back to the … house …” he gasped.

Tia hauled him to his feet and forced him to walk with her back along the sand, although he was shivering so hard she
could barely hold him upright. But she could no longer carry him. He had gained a considerable amount of muscle since she'd freed him from the Hospice in Tolace. Mellie was emerging from the house as they approached. When she saw them, she ran down to see what was wrong.

“Fetch Helgin,” Tia ordered.

“What's the matter with Misha?” she asked worriedly.

“He's in withdrawal.”

Misha groaned in her arms. Franco heard the ruckus and emerged on to the veranda. He took one look at them and hurried to take some of Misha's weight from Tia. Between them, they managed to get him up the steps.

Mellie stared at them with concern. “But he's been in withdrawal for weeks, and he's never been—”

“Just get Helgin, Mellie!” she shouted. “Now!”

“What shall I tell him?”

“Tell him it's begun,” she said, as Misha cried out weakly and collapsed against her. “Just tell him it's begun.”