Lord of the Shadows (46 page)

irk gave Kirsh little time to rethink his decision to release him, even though he thought Kirsh optimistic in the extreme to think he could conceal Antonov's current state of mind for long. Already, rumors circulated in Avacas about his behavior after the ceremony and the fact that he hadn't been seen publicly since then merely lent credence to the rumors.

But Kirsh wasn't interested in the long-term consequences of his
attempts to preserve his father's reputation. He simply wanted to hold Senet together until Misha could be returned and then leave his brother to deal with the problem. So Dirk stepped in to relieve the prince of as much of the tedious detail involved in managing the crisis as he was able to, with little complaint from Kirshov.

Dirk found plenty of things to keep Kirsh busy. The riot in Bollow had proved one thing Dirk had always suspected: Kirsh was a cool head in a crisis. But when bogged down in the mundane day-to-day tasks of government, he grew morose, moody and difficult. So Dirk set Kirsh to tasks that used his talents best, which left Dirk free to deal with the rest of it.

Trouble flared up frequently in the days following the ceremony. There was trouble in both Tolace and Paislee and another riot in Talenburg—albeit on a much smaller scale than the Bollow riot—in which the Shadowdancers' temple was attacked. Most of the damage, however, came from looters taking advantage of the disturbance. Kirsh had no sooner arrived in Avacas than he was forced to turn around and head back to Talenburg with a sizable force, leaving Dirk to deal with Lord Palinov.

Antonov's chancellor was less than pleased to find himself taking orders from Dirk Provin, even if he was now Lord of the
Suns. Palinov was an oily creature, whom Dirk had never liked much. He did everything he could to undermine Dirk's authority, even though Kirsh had made it patently clear before he left for Talenburg that Dirk spoke with the full authority of the Lion of Senet.

The morning after Kirsh left, Dirk let himself into Antonov's study to meet with the chancellor for another conference that would no doubt turn into a subtle battle of wits between them. He understood Palinov's irritation. Although snide and condescending, the man was a capable bureaucrat and was used to being given a free hand during Antonov's frequent absences from Avacas. In that, Dirk had no quarrel with him. He was only interested in keeping Senet from falling into anarchy. This was the most powerful nation on Ranadon and if it fell, the rest of the world would tumble down behind it like a house of cards. To protect Dhevyn, Dirk had to protect Senet. But right now, he had no more interest in the size of next year's corn harvest than Kirsh did.

He stopped just inside the door for a moment. The second sun was shining brightly, illuminating Antonov's desk and bathing his empty chair in light. It was strange to think he was about to sit in that chair.

“You'll be wanting to read all of these, won't you, my lord?” Lord Palinov announced, pushing through the door behind Dirk. He was followed by two scribes carrying a mountain of documents and several large ledgers. The scribes dumped their load on the desk, sketched a hasty bow and fled the office, leaving Palinov standing there with a faint sneer on his lips.

“What's all this?” Dirk asked.

“Everything requiring the Lion of Senet's attention, my lord,” Palinov explained.

“He has been away from Avacas for several weeks now, and if, as Prince Kirshov claims, you are authorized to act in his highness's absence, these matters must be dealt with immediately.”

“And what have
you
been doing while the Lion of Senet was in Bollow, my lord?” Dirk asked, walking around the desk
to stand behind the chair. He couldn't bring himself to sit in it. Not yet.

“I don't understand what you mean, my lord,” Palinov replied with a wounded look.

“I mean, Palinov, if this is everything that required the Lion of Senet's attention in the past few weeks, what is it doing here?”

“Waiting for him to return, of course.”

Dirk smiled. “You should get out more, Palinov. We have a road between Avacas and Bollow now. And they've discovered it's possible to train pigeons to carry messages.”

“My lord is trying to be witty, I think.”

“Actually, I'm trying to understand how you've kept your job as long as you have, if this is your idea of efficiency.”

Palinov scowled at him. “And your extensive experience makes you an expert in these things, I suppose, my lord?”

“I may not be an expert, Palinov, but I'm pretty good at smelling a rat. I suggest you get your little minions back in here to clear this desk and then come back when you've sorted out what really needs my attention from the rubbish you've dumped here to keep me busy while you do what you please.”

Palinov bristled angrily. “I will not be spoken to in such a manner! My position as Chancellor of the Exchequer demands respect.”

“Your position might, but you've got a way to go before
you
get any respect from me.”

“I cannot believe Prince Antonov agreed to let you act for him in his absence,” Palinov snorted. “Even if you are now the Lord of the Suns. I intend to write to him in Omaxin immediately and protest this outrage.”

“You do that. In the meantime, get rid of this,” he ordered, indicating the mountain of parchment covering the desk.

Palinov stormed out of the room, muttering to himself. Dirk winced as the door slammed behind him. It was probably not a good idea to aggravate the man; he was an influential member of Antonov's court and had it in his power to make life
quite difficult for Dirk. But there were some things that had always irritated Dirk about Avacas, and Lord Palinov was one of them.

Dirk looked down at Antonov's chair again, wondering what it would feel like to sit in it. He would find out eventually, he supposed. He couldn't do his job standing behind it until Kirsh got back from Talenburg. But it didn't seem right. He had set out to bring down a religion; to destroy an idea. He had never imagined he'd find himself back in Avacas, effectively ruling Senet.

Neris would have seen the irony, but everyone else would think this was just another part of his evil plan to rule the world. Then he smiled wryly, remembering something Wallin Provin had said to him once: something about reluctant rulers making the best kings, because they put duty before ambition. Dirk's only ambition, if he had one anymore, was simply to survive this time of upheaval so he could finish what he'd started. That was the promise he'd made Neris Veran.

“My lord?”

He looked up as the door opened at the servant who had spoken. He was so lost in thought he hadn't even heard him knock.

“Yes?”

“The Queen of Dhevyn's envoy is demanding an audience, my lord.”

“Her envoy?”

“The Lady Jacinta D'Orlon, my lord,” the servant explained. “I told her you were busy, but she insists on seeing you immediately. She claims it's a matter of life and death.”

“Then you'd better show her in,” Dirk ordered, suddenly fearful for Alenor. Had she not been able to get out of Senet? Was that the reason Jacinta was still here after being exiled?

The servant bowed and hurried away, returning a few moments later with Jacinta in his wake. She swept into the room and ordered the man gone before Dirk could utter a word. Then she glanced around the office, taking in the richly gilded furniture and the elegantly carved desk that was almost collapsing
under the weight of Palinov's latest attempt to confound him, before turning to him with a curious look.

“Does anybody really believe you are the Lord of the Suns, Dirk Provin?”

The question took him completely by surprise. “Why wouldn't they?”

“Well, for one thing, you don't dress the part. I'm sure you'd have much more success with people like Palinov if you didn't keep rubbing his nose in the fact he's old enough to be your great-grandfather.”

“Did Palinov say something to you?”

“He didn't have to,” she remarked. “I could hear him cursing you from the other end of the hall. Not that I blame him for being a little peeved. Your fortunes change faster than the tides, my lord. First you're Lord of the Suns, then you're a condemned man, and now here you are, about to take Antonov Latanya's throne.”

Dirk self-consciously took his hands from the back of the large gilded chair. “I thought Kirsh banished you, my lady.”

“Did he?” she asked ingenuously. “Oh, that's right, in the same breath he accused you of murder and had you arrested, wasn't it?”

“You said it was a matter of life and death.”

“I made that up,” she said with a shrug, taking the seat opposite the desk.

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Why don't I tell you what I'm doing here right after you tell me what
you're
doing here?”

Too uncomfortable with the idea of sitting in Antonov's seat, Dirk walked around the desk and leaned on the edge of it, crossing his arms.

“There's nothing terribly sinister in it,” he explained. “You saw Antonov after the riot. Kirsh released me when it dawned on him he was going to have to take charge until his father recovers.” He was relieved he no longer had to keep his own counsel. There was little point in being secretive anymore, and he was confident he didn't need to explain the ramifications of
Antonov's incapacity to Jacinta. She was sharp enough to work it out on her own.

“Will Antonov recover?”

“I have no idea.”

She raised an elegant, if somewhat skeptical brow at him. “So Kirsh just forgave you everything and let you go?”

“He let me go, but I don't think forgiveness had anything to do with it. Kirsh is of the opinion it's all my fault, therefore I can take responsibility for cleaning up the mess.”

“He thinks it's
your
fault? How perceptive of him.”

He smiled. “Why are you really here, my lady?”

“Alenor was worried about you,” she told him. “We were expecting to hear the news of your execution. Instead we heard you were riding into Avacas at Kirshov Latanya's side. I'm not sure which she found more disturbing.”

“Did she get away safely?”

Jacinta nodded. “A few days ago. She clings to the hope you're still trying to help her.”

“What do you think?”

“Does it matter what I think?”

It mattered to Dirk a great deal what Jacinta D'Orlon thought, but he had no idea how to tell her without sounding like a complete idiot.

“If you're going to stay here as Alenor's envoy, then it does,” he said, a little uncomfortably.

“Well, seeing as how you put it like that, I suppose I'd better give you the benefit of the doubt,” she declared in a businesslike manner, rising to her feet. “You will see to it that I'm not arrested and shipped off to Galina as a body slave when Kirsh learns I'm still in Senet, won't you?”

“Pardon?”

“You just invited me to stay on as Alenor's envoy, didn't you? I can hardly do that if I'm still under order of exile.”

“I'll take care of it,” he promised.

“In that case, I'll have my things sent to the palace. I am correct in assuming that as the Queen of Dhevyn's envoy, I'm welcome here?”

“Yes,” he agreed, a little bemused. “You're welcome here.”

“Then I'll see you at dinner?”

“Probably.”

Suddenly she smiled at him. “I am glad Kirsh didn't kill you.”

“So am I,” he agreed feelingly.

She turned for the door, but stopped and looked over her shoulder at him before she opened it. “And Dirk, get another chair for that desk. You'd look just as uncomfortable in Antonov's seat as you did wearing those ridiculous yellow robes.”

She was gone before he could answer her, leaving Dirk with the uncomfortable feeling that Jacinta D'Orlon could read his mind.

y the time Kirsh forced Talenburg under control, the suspicion Antonov Latanya was no longer in command of Senet had taken a firm hold and there was nothing Dirk could do to quell the rumor. His mere presence in Avacas fueled it. There were many Senetians who believed only a madman would have appointed a boy not yet come of age—and a Dhevynian at that—to act for him in his absence.

Kirsh couldn't get back fast enough for Dirk. While he didn't mind dealing with Palinov, the fact that he was dealing with him at all was half the problem. If Kirsh had been here, issuing orders in his father's name, then nobody would have thought anything of it. But the Lord of the Suns was in control and even if Paige Halyn had still held the post, there was a great deal of unrest at the thought Antonov had abdicated too much of his power to the Church.

Only a madman would do that, too.

But there was an even more pressing reason Dirk wanted Kirsh back in Avacas. The news he had just received from Bollow left him with a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach and
he read the dispatch from the garrison commander again, wondering if he was missing something. He wasn't. The letter was clear and unequivocal.

Antonov had ordered all of the troops stationed in Bollow to Omaxin. With the troops already there, the escort Kirsh had sent with his father and the soldiers withdrawn from the northern city, Antonov had a force of almost two thousand men. What he wanted with an army that size in the ruins of Omaxin remained a mystery.

Even Palinov was worried by the news and for once had not even hesitated before bringing the letter to Dirk's attention.

“What do you think we should do?” Palinov asked with a frown.

“You're asking
my
advice?” Dirk replied with a raised brow.

“My lord, there are some things above even politics. The Lion of Senet gathering a sizable fighting force in the middle of nowhere for no apparent reason is something we all should be concerned about.”

Dirk looked at him curiously. “You believe the rumors he's lost his mind, don't you?”

“I didn't need to hear any rumors to believe that, my lord. The mere fact you are sitting in that chair, apparently with his full support, while he takes a holiday in the wilderness, is living proof the Lion of Senet is no longer in complete control of his faculties.”

“He went to Omaxin to speak to the Goddess.”

“And apparently the Goddess is now telling him to raise an army.”

Dirk had a bad feeling he knew how that happened. He should never have agreed to Marqel going to Omaxin with Antonov. That he couldn't have stopped Kirsh sending her there did little to ease his mind.

“And having raised his army,” he mused, “what do you suppose he's planning to do with it?”

“One hopes he's planning to invade Sidoria.”

It was an idle hope, Dirk thought. Antonov had no interest
in Sidoria. He could have invaded his northern neighbor at any time he pleased in the last two decades.

“And if he isn't?”

“Then I have a problem, my lord.”

“
You
have a problem?”

“I must then decide whose side I'm on. If my prince is raising an army to use against his own people, then I rather think I'd be better off having you arrested.”

“And how would that help?”

“If Prince Antonov has decided to take issue with Prince Kirshov's handling of this crisis, then a prudent man would see to it that when his prince returned, he had done everything he could to restore power to the man who rightfully owns it.”

“But …” Dirk prompted, guessing Palinov had a few other options in mind.

“But one can't help but wonder about the advisability of siding with a man who turns on his own people at the behest of a Dhevynian whore.”

Dirk was stunned by Palinov's words. “Then you don't think Marqel is the Voice of the Goddess?”

“No more than Belagren was.” Palinov shrugged. “But I respected Belagren. She rarely interfered in things that didn't concern her. The new High Priestess, however, seems much less … restrained.”

Dirk was flabbergasted. “You
knew
Belagren lied about speaking to the Goddess?”

“Lies are the fuel that feed the fires of power, my lord. That's a lesson I would have thought you well versed in.”

Dirk was silent for a moment, not sure he believed what he was hearing.

“Are you saying if it came to a choice you'd turn on Antonov?”

“What I'm saying, my lord, is we have come to the end of an era. If I am to continue to serve Senet, the chances seem good it will be in a court ruled by Kirshov Latanya, not his father. I am a pragmatist. Faced with a choice between the man who seems determined to bring order out of chaos and the man who
seems determined to start a civil war, I find myself leaning toward the son, rather than the father.” Then he frowned and added disapprovingly, “Despite his rather disturbing tendency to rely on you for counsel.”

Dirk shook his head with reservation. “You'd support Kirsh over Antonov?”

“I would support sanity over madness. There's a difference.”

“Such a position might be misconstrued, my lord.”

“Only if the madness wins.”

Dirk stared at the chancellor suspiciously. The chance Palinov spoke the truth was about equal with the chance he was deliberately trying to draw Dirk into doing something that could be labeled treason. Dirk's mandate from Kirsh was to hold things together. Palinov was tempting him with something far beyond simple caretaking.

“I gather you have a plan then,” he asked carefully, “about how to deal with this situation?”

“No plan, my lord, merely a suggestion.”

“Which is?”

“That you recall the troops currently engaged in searching the Dhevynian islands for the Baenlanders who fled Mil. If things … get awkward, we'll need those men here in Senet.”

“And how would I explain such an order?”

Palinov smiled. “Don't explain anything; just expect your orders to be obeyed. It's the first rule of kingship.”

“I'm not Senet's king, my lord.”

“That doesn't seem to have bothered you until now.”

Dirk thought about it for a while before cautiously nodding his agreement. “I'll order the troops back,” he decided. “But they won't set one foot out of Avacas until Kirsh gets back from Talenburg. I'm not going to start a war with the Lion of Senet when we don't even know what he has in mind. For all I know the Sidorian raiders are getting out of hand in Omaxin and he simply called on the nearest troops to deal with them.”

“Are you sure that's the reason?” Palinov asked slyly. “Or
are you just too squeamish to take on Antonov? It is a task that would require a great deal of … courage.”

Palinov was a fool if he thought he could goad Dirk into doing something rash, simply by casting doubt on his manhood. That sort of tactic might work on Kirsh, but Dirk wasn't trying to be a hero.

“I'm not too squeamish, Palinov, I'm too smart,” Dirk informed him flatly. “I didn't come to Avacas to start that sort of trouble. Or be provoked into starting it, either.”

“Then why did you come, Dirk Provin? You've done nothing
but
cause trouble from the first day you set foot on the mainland.”

“I'm here because I'm the Lord of the Suns and Senet is facing a crisis that requires the full cooperation of both church and state to bring it under control. Above and beyond that, I won't be forced into anything that you can use against me the next time you decide to shift your allegiance.”

Palinov didn't look offended. He looked at Dirk with begrudging respect. “You will withdraw the troops from Dhevyn though, won't you?”

“Yes,” he agreed. “But I'm placing them under the command of Kirshov Latanya.”

“But Prince Kirshov is not here.”

“By the time the order reaches Dhevyn and the fleet gets back to Avacas, Kirsh will be back, my lord. And then he can decide if his father's activities warrant punitive action. That's a decision neither you nor I have the right to make.”

Palinov nodded in agreement. Dirk couldn't tell if he was surprised or disappointed Dirk refused to be drawn into his plans.

“Then I'll have the orders drawn up and you can sign them, my lord.”

“I'll write them,” Dirk told him, certain if he left the task in Palinov's hands he would word the order in such a way its meaning could easily be misinterpreted.

Dirk had enough problems. He didn't need to add a charge of treason to them.