Lord of the Shadows (27 page)

y the time Jacinta arrived in Avacas, the Lord of the Suns had already left for Bollow. She had traveled to Senet in unexpected luxury in the Lion of Senet's own cabin on the
Tsarina
, which was headed back to Avacas after delivering Kirsh to Kalarada. Kirsh offered her passage on the ship. Jacinta suspected Alenor's husband was so delighted by the idea she would not be around to irritate him, he had offered her a berth to ensure she really did leave. They had never really gotten along, Jacinta and Kirshov. The prince considered her a bad influence on Alenor and often accused her of interfering with things that were none of her concern.

Her new position as the envoy of the Queen of Dhevyn gave Jacinta an unexpected amount of freedom. Her mother would never have countenanced her traveling alone to Senet,
even with the escort of Queen's Guardsmen Alenor sent along with her. But as Alenor's envoy, she was—for the time being, at least—free from her mother's protective and smothering domination. With luck, Lady Sofia might even give up on the idea of marrying her off for a while.
There's probably more chance of the Age of Shadows returning tomorrow
, Jacinta thought with a sigh as the carriage rattled along Avacas's cobbled streets,
but one can hope
…

All she had to do now was prove herself worthy of the trust Alenor had placed in her by discovering what Dirk Provin was up to.

Jacinta didn't like her chances. Alenor's cousin had managed to keep everyone in the dark and she doubted he would confide in a stranger when he'd pointedly refused to tell Alenor what was going on. But the challenge intrigued her.

And so did Dirk Provin.

She had a mental image of him in her mind. He would have the same overpowering aura as Antonov Latanya, she imagined. The same hypnotic charisma. Jacinta couldn't imagine him being able to achieve the rank of Lord of the Suns at the tender age of nineteen any other way. Dirk Provin was the wrong age, the wrong nationality, even the wrong parentage, to logically be thought of as Paige Halyn's successor. Maybe it was that which fascinated her most. If the bastard son of Johan Thorn and Morna Provin could achieve the rank of Lord of the Suns, then nothing was impossible. If he could do that, then maybe the only daughter of an important Dhevynian duke could avoid a future filled with a husband she didn't want, babies she didn't need and a mindless existence filled with nothing more meaningful than tomorrow night's banquet menu.

When Jacinta presented herself at the Hall of Shadows she was served tea and politely but firmly told that if she wished to meet with the Lord of the Suns she would have to find her way to Bollow on her own. More than a little put out, Jacinta then made her way to Avacas palace with the intention of seeking an audience with the High Priestess.

To her relief, Marqel agreed to see her without delay, and she was led to a small, tastelessly—to her eye—furnished chamber on the ground floor of the palace. The Lion of Senet was not in. He had gone to the horse auctions in Arkona for the day, Lord Ezry, the Palace Seneschal, informed her, and wasn't expected back until later that evening. Jacinta was rather glad of the news. Antonov Latanya scared her a little, and if she could avoid dealing with him, she would. Anyway, she wasn't here to see the Lion of Senet. She was here to find out what Dirk Provin was up to.

Marqel breezed into the room a few moments later, dripping with gold bracelets and diamond rings, as if trying to remind everyone of her newfound wealth by wearing it all at once. Jacinta rose and curtsied politely to her, guessing Marqel would like the gesture. Commoners elevated to high office always delighted in seeing those born to rank paying them homage. The Mayor of Oakridge, the town where the bulk of her family's estates were located on the island of Bryton, was just as easily impressed. He'd been a bookbinder before being raised to the exalted position of mayor and he almost slobbered with glee whenever Jacinta had acknowledged him in public.

“Lady Jacinta! What a pleasant surprise!”

“The pleasure is all mine, my lady,” Jacinta assured her. “I must say, the role of High Priestess seems to suit you. You're looking very well.”

“It's an honor I do my best to be worthy of,” Marqel replied, with entirely false modesty. “But please, be seated and tell me to what I owe this unexpected pleasure.”

Jacinta resumed her seat as Marqel took the chair opposite, forcing herself not to smile at Marqel's wordy turn of phrase. “I come to Avacas as the envoy of the Queen of Dhevyn, my lady. I was hoping to meet with the Lord of the Suns.”

A fleeting frown flickered over Marqel's face, which Jacinta thought rather interesting. “He's not here. He's gone to Bollow.”

“So I understand. I'm rather put out by the news, actually. I
didn't come prepared to traipse halfway across Senet to meet with him.”

“I can arrange for you to get to Bollow, if that's what you want,” Marqel offered, probably delighting in the thought she was in a position to do Jacinta a favor. It wasn't inspired out of friendship, Jacinta was certain. More likely she was doing it to prove she had the power to make things happen at will.

“I'd be most grateful if you could, my lady,” Jacinta replied. “I don't know Senet at all, and I'm afraid I'm easy prey for unscrupulous merchants. I have a small escort with me, but even with their help, left to my own devices, I'd probably end up paying a fortune for a coach.”

“Oh, you don't have to pay for a coach!” Marqel declared. “Dirk's— I mean the Lord of the Suns' servants are leaving tomorrow with the rest of his gear. You and your escort can travel with them.”

Jacinta smiled and realized the trap she'd walked into. She'd accepted the offer and it was too late to go back on it, but Marqel wasn't offering her a coach and four. She was to travel in the Lord of the Suns' baggage wagon.

“I can't thank you enough, my lady.”

“Don't mention it,” Marqel assured her. “Believe me, it's nothing.”

The transport to Bollow turned out considerably better than Jacinta expected. The carriage that arrived to collect her the following morning was battered and poorly sprung, but it was a carriage, although it was perilously loaded with a number of trunks tied to the roof. Sitting inside was a young couple who looked both nervous and uncomfortable to learn they must share their journey with the Queen of Dhevyn's envoy.

Jacinta decided not to watch the coachman abusing her trunks, so she climbed into the carriage and smiled at the young man and woman as the driver cursed and muttered to himself while he tied her luggage down. Tael Gordonov and the half dozen men of her escort took up position around the coach while the passersby in the street wondered at the strange sight
of a baggage wagon surrounded by a detail of Dhevynian Guardsmen.

“I'm Lady Jacinta D'Orlon,” she told her fellow passengers, taking her seat with a friendly smile. “And you are?”

“I'm Caterina Farlo,” the young woman replied uncertainly. “This is Eryk.”

Jacinta turned to the young man with a delighted smile. “Eryk? Why Alenor has told me so much about you. I'm so glad to meet you at last.”

The boy looked at her in astonishment. “You
know
Printheth Alenor?”

“But of course I do. She and I are cousins.”

“So
you
say,” Caterina replied skeptically.

“Not that I'm required to explain myself to you, but I'm here on her behalf to meet with the Lord of the Suns.” She pointed to the mounted escort. “See. I have an escort of Guardsmen with me. Is that not sufficient credentials for you?”

Eryk treated Jacinta to a beaming smile. “Alenor ith the nitheth …I mean … the
nicest
princess in the whole world.”

“She certainly is, Eryk,” Jacinta agreed. “And she says you are the most loyal and faithful
servant
in the whole world. Your master is very lucky to have you.”

“I'm glad you're coming with us then, Lady Jacinta. Isn't this good, Caterina?”

The young woman wasn't quite so easily won over as Dirk Provin's dull-witted servant. “I suppose.”

The coach jerked as it moved off, hitting every bump and pothole in the road as they traveled. It was going to be a very long journey, Jacinta thought with a silent groan.

“So tell me, Caterina, what is your role in Lord Provin's entourage?” She was genuinely curious about the girl's answer. Alenor had mentioned nothing about an attractive blonde in Dirk's service.

“I'm his hostage, my lady,” Caterina explained.

“Oh, you poor thing,” she sighed, hoping she'd covered her surprise well. “What did you do to find yourself in such an unfortunate position?”

“She didn't do anything,” Eryk volunteered. “Caterina's
papa is in the Brotherhood and she's staying with us so they won't kill Lord Dirk.”

“Eryk!” Caterina scolded. “Mind your tongue!”

Jacinta smiled at the girl. “Please, don't be angry at him. I'll keep your confidence. But I'm surprised to hear there is a Brotherhood assassin after someone as important as Lord Provin.”

Eryk's face crumpled into a frown. “It was the Baenlanders, my lady. They're the ones that put a contract out on him. Tia told them all this mean stuff about him and now they don't like him anymore.”

Hardly surprising.
What
was
surprising was that Dirk Provin had the wits to find a way to prevent the contract from being carried out. A Brotherhood assassin on your tail was nothing to be blasé about.

“Well, I just hope you haven't been mistreated, Caterina,” she said. “Or I would feel compelled to raise the matter with Lord Provin myself.”

“Oh no, my lady,” Caterina hurried to assure her. “He's been a real gentleman. I mean, even when we were on the ship on the way to the Baenlands, he didn't ravage me or anything like that, and he didn't let any of the crew hurt me, either.”

“A true gentleman,” Jacinta agreed, fighting the urge to smile. “Still, these things are usually temporary arrangements. Perhaps he'll let you return home soon.”

“I don't think so, my lady,” Caterina told her confidently. “I mean everybody knows when the Brotherhood accepts a contract, they never stop until it's been carried out. I may have to stay Lord Provin's hostage for ever and ever …”

And you're not the least bit disturbed by the prospect, are you?
Jacinta thought, slightly amused. Was Dirk Provin aware of the fact that this girl was besotted by him? Did the thought amuse him? Had he taken advantage of it? Or was he too blind to notice?

“Will you be staying with us in Bollow, my lady?” Eryk asked. She had obviously won him over, heart and soul. Her
credentials as Alenor's cousin put her firmly in the young man's good graces.

“No, I'll find an inn when we get there. I wouldn't dream of imposing myself on Lord Provin's hospitality at such a time.”
Or putting myself in his power
, she added silently.

“You'll like him,” Eryk predicted confidently. “He's really nice.”

Jacinta smiled, thinking of all the descriptions she heard of Dirk Provin, “really nice” was not among them.

“I'm sure he is, Eryk,” she agreed. “Alenor told me all about him and she says
exactly
the same thing.”

Eryk nodded happily as the carriage and her escort continued to wend their way through the crowded streets of Avacas. Jacinta didn't even notice the rough ride any longer, too enchanted by the idea that for the next few days she would have nothing better to do than grill Dirk Provin's loyal servant and his love-struck hostage.

Marqel had unwittingly done her a huge favor by packing her off to Bollow in Dirk's baggage wagon. By the time they got to the northern city, she would probably know what color his underwear was.

And that, Jacinta expected, was going to give her the edge she needed to deal with the enigmatic and dangerous Dirk Provin.

ia woke to a room filled with dull light and the soft pattering of rain on the thatched roof. It took her a moment to remember where she was, then she frowned as she realized she'd been sleeping. Lifting her head from her folded arms resting on the edge of the bed, she blinked sleepily. Her neck was stiff from dozing in such an uncomfortable position, perched on a chair beside the bed. Misha lay amid a tangle of sheets, but his
breathing was deep and even. He was asleep, she realized, not unconscious, his face peaceful and serene.

“He's over the worst of it, I think,” Master Helgin said softly behind her.

She sat up, rubbing her eyes. “Why did you let me doze off?”

“One invalid is all I can cope with at the moment,” he told her. “You needed the rest.”

“Is he going to be all right?”

Helgin nodded slowly. “Yes, I think he's going to be just fine.”

The relief Tia felt was indescribable. The horror of the past few days was something she never wanted to live through again. There had been so many times when she almost broke her vow and gave into Misha's cries for relief. So many times when she was sure he must die, because it didn't seem possible his body could take much more punishment.

“So it's all over now?” she asked.

Helgin nodded. “The physical symptoms should diminish the longer he's free of the drug, although he may have the odd relapse. The worst is over but he's not out of the woods yet. And the mental cravings may never leave him. He's going to have to be very strong to resist them.”

“He's strong enough,” she assured the old man. Stronger than any person she had ever met. “Not physically, perhaps, but he's a lot tougher than he looks, Master Helgin.”

Helgin smiled. “You've no need to convince me of that, lass. I've only seen one or two people survive sudden withdrawal. Few men have the courage to even try it. He's quite a remarkable young man.” He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Why don't you go and get some sleep. I'll stay with him.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I want to be here when he wakes up.”

“Your room is just across the hall,” Helgin reminded her. “I promise I'll call you the moment he opens his eyes.”

Tia thought about it for a moment and then nodded, rising stiffly to her feet. Misha might sleep for hours yet and she was exhausted, in mind and body. She had no idea what day it was,
whether it was morning or evening. The last few days were just a blur.

“You will call me, won't you?” she insisted.

“I promise.”

Tia closed the door to Misha's room behind her gently and all but staggered across the hall to her own bed. She collapsed onto it fully clothed, asleep before she'd had time to notice she was lying down. She slept dreamlessly and deeply until she was woken by a gentle hand on her shoulder, shaking her awake.

“Is it Misha?” she asked, a little surprised to find Franco standing over her.

“No, he's still sleeping as far as I know, lass. Reithan's here,” the caretaker advised her. “And he has the Lady Lexie with him.”

“Lexie!”

They were gathered in the kitchen: Lexie, Reithan, Mellie and Prince Oscon. Tia threw herself into Lexie's arms, relieved to see her alive and well. Reithan stood near the stove, sipping a steaming mug of tea and talking to Oscon, who was tolerating this intrusion into his peaceful domain with a remarkable degree of equanimity.

“Is everyone all right? When we heard about Mil we were so worried about you all.”

“The bulk of our people got away,” Lexie assured her. “A few of them stayed to fight. Dal Falstov and most of his crew were killed during the battle, but Porl got the
Makuan
clear before the attack. And we were able to get the rest of the people up to the caves before the Senetians arrived, thanks to Dirk.”

Tia scowled at Lexie. “Thanks to
Dirk
? Thanks to Dirk they
invaded
the Baenlands, Lexie!”

“I think you'd better hear Lexie out, Tia,” Reithan suggested.

“What do you mean?”

Lexie took a seat at the table, her expression grave. “Dirk
arranged for the invasion fleet to heave to at the entrance to the delta for almost a full day before they attacked,” she explained. “We had plenty of time to evacuate Mil.”

“Then Dirk never really betrayed us at all,” Mellie announced. “I
knew
he wouldn't do it. That proves it!”

“That doesn't prove anything, Mellie, other than the fact that he's an idiot.”

“Which we all know is not the case,” Lexie reminded her. “But that's not all, Tia. I was captured by the Senetian Guard. I am only alive today because Dirk intervened. He lied about who I was to Prince Kirshov. He stopped the Senetians from searching the caves above the settlement.”

“So he's got some small shred of conscience left,” Tia shrugged. “It's hardly evidence he's doing anything noble.”

“But if Dirk has joined the Shadowdancers to destroy them,” Mellie pointed out, determined to believe the best about her half-brother, “if he is still on our side, then he would have no choice but to pretend he wants to destroy us.”

“You haven't heard, then,” Tia concluded as she listened to Lexie and Mellie trying to justify everything Dirk had done as having some noble purpose. “Dirk's not a Shadowdancer any longer, Lexie. He's moved up in the world. He's the Lord of the Suns now.”

Lexie was clearly shocked by the news.

“I got word from Tanchen a few days ago,” Oscon added. “He was named as Paige Halyn's heir a couple of weeks after the old man died.”

“And you still think he simply left us to hide away in Avacas in comfort?” Lexie asked Tia with a raised brow.

“I don't know what to think, Lexie. Misha believes he's trying to bring down the Church.”

“And who better than the Lord of the Suns to do that?” Oscon remarked. “I'm inclined to think Misha may have the right of it. This reeks of a well thought out plan, my lady, not a chance set of coincidences.”

“You're clutching at sunbeams,” Tia accused. “All of you. If Dirk had some grand plan to bring down the Shadowdancers,
why keep it a secret from us? Why not tell us what he was doing? Why not trust us? We could have helped!”

“Perhaps he trusted us as much as we trusted him, Tia,” Lexie suggested. “What would you have done if Dirk came to you and told you he wanted to return to Avacas to join the Shadowdancers so he could become the Lord of the Suns and destroy the Church?”

“I wouldn't have believed it then, any more than I do now,” she replied.

“Which is precisely my point, dearest,” Lexie said. “He had no reason to believe we would have supported his plan.”

“His
plan
, Lexie, is to gain as much power for himself as he possibly can, and he doesn't care who he steps on along the way to gain it. He's even told the new High Priestess about this eclipse that's coming. That's the same High Priestess he slept with, by the way.”

“What eclipse?” Reithan asked.

“Don't you remember, Reithan? The eclipse he bought his way into the Shadowdancers with,” Tia reminded him. “And when I told Neris about it, all he did was laugh.” She sighed, wondering what it would take to make her people see Dirk for what he really was. “How is Neris, by the way? I suppose he thought the sight of the Senetian fleet sailing into Mil a grand old show.”

Lexie leaned forward and took her by the hand. “I'm sorry, darling. Neris is … he was killed in the fighting …”

Tia stared at her for a moment, numbed by the news. On top of everything else that had happened lately, it felt as if she had nothing left with which to grieve for her father.

“He wasn't captured, then?” she asked tonelessly.

“Small consolation that it is,” Lexie assured her. “They didn't take him alive.”

Tia couldn't help her feeling of despair. “So Mil is destroyed, our people are scattered and the only person left alive who might be able to predict the next Age of Shadows is Dirk Provin.”

“Tia …” Lexie said, reaching out to her.

She shook off Lexie's proffered sympathy and rose wearily to her feet. “I think I'll go sit with Misha for a while.”

“How is he?” Reithan asked.

“He's doing just fine,” she said. “He's finally free of the poppy-dust and itching to get back to Avacas.”

“It's been worth it, then?” Lexie asked.

“I hope so, Lexie, because the way things are going for our people lately, I've a bad feeling the son of our worst enemy is our only hope.”

Tia shooed Master Helgin out of Misha's room and sent him down to the kitchen to greet Reithan and Lexie. She took the chair beside the bed and studied Misha's sleeping form for a while, wondering what he would make of the news Lexie had brought about Dirk's strange behavior in Mil. He'd no doubt think it simply strengthened his argument that Dirk was planning to destroy the Church.

Maybe he was right. Maybe she simply refused to accept the evidence everyone else seemed determined to believe. On the other hand, they'd fallen into this trap before with Dirk Provin and she was the only one who had insisted he couldn't be trusted.
But I fell under his spell, too, just like the rest of them
, she reminded herself. For a moment she tried to recall that time in Omaxin, wondering what it was that had made her let her guard down. Was it the isolation? Or was it the desperate hope that in Johan Thorn's son lay the future his father had refused to consider?

“Tia?”

All thoughts of Dirk fled as she realized Misha was awake.

“Is it… over?”

“It's over.”

He reached out his hand for hers with a wan smile. “I feel like I've been run over by a herd of stampeding horses.”

“You'll start to feel better soon,” she assured him, giving his hand an encouraging squeeze.

He smiled and raised her hand to his lips, kissing it gently. “Thank you.”

“I didn't do anything, Misha,” she said, strangely moved by the simple gesture.

“You stayed with me. And you kept your promise.”

“Only just,” she told him. “I came awfully close to giving in.”

“But you didn't. I wish there was some way I could repay you for your kindness.”

“Free Dhevyn,” she reminded him with a smile. “That'll do for a start.”

He laughed softly. “You're never going to let me forget that promise, are you?”

“Never.”

He studied her for a moment and then frowned. “You look exhausted.”

“I'm all right. I've had a few hours' sleep.”

“You should rest.”

“You sound like Helgin.”

“I mean it, Tia. I'll be all right. Go and get some of the rest you've denied yourself on my account. It'll make you feel much better.” And then he added with a smile, “And it will ease my conscience, too.”

She
was
exhausted, she knew, and numb over the news about her father. Perhaps Misha was right. He was awake now and it would feel good to rest without worrying about him.

“Are you sure? I can stay if you like.”

“Go!” he commanded with a smile.

Tia rose to her feet. She leaned over to place a sisterly kiss on his forehead, but for some reason she couldn't explain, in the last instant she changed her mind and lowered her mouth over his.

Misha seemed a little shocked at first, then put his arm around her and pulled her closer. A world of promise suddenly opened to her as the kiss deepened into something far beyond simple friendship.

Tia pulled away from him, mortified. “I'm sorry …”

“Please,” he said with a smile. “Don't apologize.”

She turned to leave but he grabbed her hand and pulled her back.

“Tia, don't ever be sorry …”

“I have to go,” she muttered, shaking free of his grasp.

He let her hand go and searched her face. “Will you be back?”

“I don't know,” she said, and then she fled the room, trying to outrun the sudden confusion kissing Misha had evoked.