Shadowborn (Light & Shadow, Book 1) (26 page)

“
Yes,” Miriel said. “What
are you—“ The door slammed suddenly, and I heard a thud and a
choked-off cry of pain.

I was moving before I realized what was
happening, running for the door into the public rooms, skidding
around to see the man holding Miriel pinned, her arm twisted behind
her back, his other hand trying to force her jaw open. I could see
a bottle in his palm, he was trying to tip the liquid into her
mouth. He swung around as I came into the room, and I saw shock
cross his face. He had thought her alone in her rooms. He did not
know who I was.

It was over in an instant. I hardly felt
myself move, but he was falling away from her, Miriel gasping and
crying, wiping her mouth on her sleeve, and then giving a scream as
she turned and saw him with my dagger embedded in one of his eyes.
I was frozen where I stood, my arm raised, my fingers held fixed,
just as they had been when I had released the knife to throw it.
His legs twitched once, and then he was still.

For a moment, neither Miriel nor I
moved.

“
Are you okay?” I demanded,
and she nodded. “Did you swallow any of the poison?” She shook her
head. She did not seem to be able to speak. Her eyes were growing
wider and wider.

As if in a dream, I crossed to the door and
bolted it, and then cautiously, reluctantly, approached the body. I
knew what to do. Temar had taught me what to do. But I did not want
to touch him. I was half-sure he was still alive, and he would kill
me as soon as I was within reach; I realized that I almost wanted
him to be alive. Even as I knelt at his side, feeling blood seep
into the cloth of my pants, I half hoped that I had not killed him,
but I knew as soon as I touched him that he was dead. His skin was
warm, but there was no life in him. I scrambled away, and was
promptly sick on the floor.

“
Catwin?” Miriel’s voice.
She was still frozen, staring at the man, staring at me. Her voice
was high and thin.

“
I killed him.” My stomach
twisted again and I knelt on the wooden planks and stared down at
my own vomit. “Oh, Gods. Oh, Gods. I…”

“
He was trying to kill me,”
Miriel said, and I drew a deep breath and nodded. Yes. The man had
been trying to kill her. She was correct. He had been trying to
kill her, that was the thing to remember. He would have killed her,
and he might have killed me, too. I had not simply taken a life, I
had also saved one—maybe two.

“
He was trying to kill me,”
Miriel said again, and I heard the first notes of hysteria in her
voice. She had gone so white that she looked like she might faint
at any moment, and I pushed myself to my feet and went to her,
unsteadily.

When the knock came at the door, both of us
jumped, and I shoved Miriel back, away from the door. She clapped
both hands over her mouth and I saw her bite down on the side of
her hand; she was trying not to scream.

“
Catwin—Catwin!” It was
Temar’s voice, and I let out a shuddering breath.

I unbolted the door and it fairly slammed
open as Temar rushed past me, the Duke following with his guards.
When they saw the body on the floor, every one of them turned to
stare at me. I tried to find words, and then, to my shame, I felt
my stomach twist once more. I dropped down to my knees and retched.
The Duke snorted, but Temar knelt at my side and smoothed my hair
back from my face.

“
Can you tell me what
happened?” he asked. “Have you moved him at all?” I shook my head
to his second question.

“
He tried to get Miriel to
drink poison.”

“
Did she?” the Duke
demanded.

“
No,” Miriel whispered.
“Catwin came in and—“ She pressed her lips together and I saw her
fighting back tears. “No, I didn’t drink any.”

The Duke’s shoulders slumped.

“
What’s going on?” I asked
suddenly. “How did you know to come?”

“
The Duke received a note,”
Temar said, helping me to my feet. “It came with food from the
kitchens, and it said only that Miriel had been given a poison, and
that if he wanted the antidote—“

“
That’s enough,” the Duke
said. Temar protested; he was the only one who would have
dared.

“
My Lord, I think it best
that Catwin knows who might move against Miriel.” The Duke
considered this, and waved a hand for Temar to continue. “It was an
agent of Jacces,” Temar told me.

“
The leader of the
rebellion?”

“
Just so.” It fell into
place at once.

“
The note said that, to get
the antidote, the Duke must promise not to crush the rebellion,” I
guessed, and Temar nodded.

“
Exactly.” He placed his
hands on my shoulders and peered into my eyes. “Are you feeling
better?” He must know that I did not; the realization that I had
killed a man kept reappearing in my mind; each time, I felt as if
my blood had turned to ice. I was shuddering. But I knew that the
Duke would not be sympathetic.

“
I won’t be sick again, if
that’s what you mean,” I said, and Temar squeezed my arms
gently.

“
Then check the body,” he
instructed.

They watched me, all of them, as I edged
towards it. I knew I must show no weakness in front of the Duke and
his men. Temar would be watching to make sure that I remembered
what he had taught me, but the rest would be watching, judging
whether or not I was suited to my task as a bodyguard.

I patted the man’s arms and legs gently,
checking for hidden weapons or pockets, anything that might stick
out into my hands. Then I carefully untied his cloak and pried it
away, undid his belt and lifted his blank tabard away so that I
could see his shirt. I searched through his pockets, laying the
objects I found on the floor next to the body. One item, a scroll,
I passed to Temar to look over. I stripped the man down to his
breeches, and we could all see the tattoo on his chest: a circle in
black ink.

“
So,” the Duke said grimly.
“That’s the symbol of the rebellion, then.” He stood. “You two,
stay here,” he ordered two of the guards. Then he looked to Temar.
“Search the rooms again, take Catwin with you. Make sure there is
no one else here, and no way of entering the rooms other than the
door.”

We set off into the bedroom, and before
Temar started checking the room, he took a moment to look into my
eyes again.

“
How are you?” he asked me.
I only shook my head. I had no words for him. My skin felt hot and
cold all at once, I thought I might be sick but I had nothing in my
stomach, and I was shaking like a leaf. Temar nodded, as if I had
told him outright.

“
They say it’s always like
that, the first time.”

“
I killed him,” I
whispered, and Temar nodded again.

“
You did, and thank the
Gods for it. You did your job, and the Duke is pleased.” I managed
to keep my mouth shut on the sentiment that I did not particularly
care if the Duke was pleased. I would rather he keep wondering.
Temar gave a little smile. “And don’t worry, Catwin, no one other
than those here now will ever know of it.”

Panic stabbed through me. “What do you
mean?”

“
Catwin…killing a man is a
hanging offense.”

“
But,” I was stammering, I
was so upset. “But he was trying to kill Miriel, they could never
hang me for—“

“
Who knows what a jury
might decide?” Temar asked me. “But you have the Duke’s protection,
Catwin. It will be as if this never happened. And now, put it out
of your mind. If you must talk of it, come speak to me. But try not
to think about it. Trust me, it’s the better choice. All you need
to remember of tonight is that someone tried to hurt Miriel, and
you kept them from doing so. Can you do that?”

“
Yes.”
No.

“
Good. Now, show me how you
search this room.”

Chapter 22

“
I’m afraid,” I said to him
the next day. The words tumbled out of my mouth as I arrived for my
lesson. I had tried to sleep, but had not been able to, torn
between the memories in my waking mind, and the nightmares in my
sleeping mind. I had walked from Miriel’s rooms to my lessons, now
more aware than ever of the whispers about Voltur and de la Marque,
passionate arguments about which viper a man might trust. I felt
that every person who looked at me was one of the soldiers of the
rebellion; I was sure that anyone looking at me could see from my
face that I had killed a man.

“
As well you should be.”
Temar did not try to blunt his words. He looked up from where he
was studying a map. “But about what, specifically?”

“
I used to have nightmares
that someone would try to hurt Miriel, and I wouldn’t be able to
stop them.”

“
Now you know that you
can.” Despite himself, he looked pleased.

“
Now it’s worse!” I cried.
He raised his eyebrows. “I used to wake up, afraid I’d heard
someone in the room, someone coming to kill Miriel. But I told
myself it wasn’t true. She’s fourteen, she shouldn’t have any
enemies. I thought…I had time. But people are already coming to
kill her.”

“
And you’re scared of
that.” He was testing me, but I did not know the correct answer. I
nodded, having decided to tell the truth.

“
And yet…” Temar looked at
me. “You and Miriel barely speak.” I sat for a moment and digested,
as he had meant me to do, the fact that he knew what went on in
Miriel’s rooms. I had the disloyal feeling that I had not been fair
to her yesterday; she was correct that she was watched, always. Why
should she trust me?

I jerked my thoughts back to the
present.

“
I wouldn’t want her to
die,” I said finally. “That would be awful. I just…” He looked up
and stared at me, steadily, until I said, “I just don’t like her
very much.” That was woefully inadequate. Miriel could be charming,
she could smile at me so that I forgot an insult she had made only
a moment ago. Her spite was matched by strange gestures of
kindness: she would hold the door for me, or save a sweetmeat for
me from her lunch meal. And yet, she never stopped with her taunts,
and I could not forget that she had told me to my face that she
would never trust me.

I did not think that Temar could ever
understand.

“
So you don’t like her,” he
said, and I nodded. “But you say you wake afraid of someone coming
to kill her.”

“
I would have to kill
someone.” I swallowed. “Again.” I did not add,
and that was more horrible than I had even
feared
, but I knew from the flash of
sympathy in Temar’s eyes that he understood. Then the wall came
down once more behind his eyes.

“
You know how to hide,” he
suggested. “You could hide and let them kill her, and they would
never know you were there. You would never have to kill
again.”

I was shocked. “I couldn’t do that!”

“
Why not?”

I nearly stood up and left. My mind was
running, faster and faster. If the Duke knew of this conversation,
he would have me horsewhipped for admitting that I did not care for
Miriel—but Temar was asking, and so this must be a test—but what if
it was not a test? Temar knew that I had killed, when forced to it,
so why ask me this, now?

Temar tilted his head to the side. “You
don’t know why,” he observed. I sat frozen, trying to figure out
what he wanted to hear. “I can tell you, if you want, but you won’t
like the answer.”

“
Tell me,” I said without
hesitation. I could hear Roine’s advice, it’s always better to know
than not, and Donnett’s, let them talk, the more they talk, the
more you know, and the more openings you get.

“
You understand now that
your fate is linked with hers,” Temar said simply.

I blinked at him. “That’s ridiculous.” The
words sounded tired; I was too preoccupied by fear even to feel my
usual rush of anger at his endless talk of fate.

“
Is it?” Temar frowned.
“You swore it was true yourself. And your own mother pronounced you
cursed at your birth, that’s hardly less strange. She swore you
were born to be betrayed. But…” He frowned. “I have wondered,
Catwin, was there more to her prophecy than that?”

“
That’s superstitious talk,
it means nothing.” I did not want Temar to speak of my mother. I
did not want him to know the rest of the prophecy, to look back at
my life and find a story in it. And I did not want him, or anyone
to know that every night, without fail, I dreamed of my birth. I
would walk through the snow and the wind, and I could choose to go
into the house or not. I would push open the door and go in, and
witness the same conversation acted out: my father’s desperation,
my mother’s fear. I grew bolder in my invisibility: I would walk
close to peer up into my father’s face. He never noticed me, but if
I stayed long enough, my mother would.

The first time it had happened, it had been
only a dream—easy enough to shrug away in the light of day. Now,
over time, I came to wonder if she truly had seen me that night,
and the thought was so unnerving that some nights, I did not go
into the hut at all. I chose to walk through the village, or sit
outside in the drifting snow, trying to ignore the wails of my
newborn self. I curled up on the ground with my arms around my
knees and I tried to think that this was only a dream. It still
took me a very long time to wake up.