« I don’t like having you leave me. But we don’t always get to choose in these matters. I have to send someone I can depend upon to do this. There isn’t anyone I depend on more than you.»
He thought he saw Drumundoon actually blush, but it was hard to tell beneath the layers of dirt and sweat. Drum rubbed his fringe of black beard and nodded. «I’ll do my best.»
He was, as usual, as good as his word. By the time the wounded were loaded on litters and their bearers and caregivers ready to depart, Drum was already gone. Pied found himself wishing he could have given his friend something more than encouragement, but at least he was sending him out of the fighting. Drum was a good man, but he wasn’t meant to stand in the front lines on a battlefield.
Maybe I’m not meant jor this, either,Pied thought.But here I am.
He slung his longbow across his shoulders, cinched his quiver a notch tighter, and went off to meet his fate.
Seven
Darkness had settled across the cities of the Southland, but it was nothing compared to the darkness that had found a home in Shadea a’Ru’s heart. She stood at a floor–to–ceiling window in a reception room deep inside Sen Dunsidan’s compound, staring out at the lights of Arishaig. She had not moved from that spot, had barely changed her position, in more than an hour. She had gone deep inside herself, escaping the disagreeableness of the present, a Druid trick she had taught herself early on in her time at Paranor, when she had no friends and no future. It had served her well then, it was less effective now.
Behind her, the Captain of her Gnome Hunters stood with two of his men and watched her uneasily. He could feel the heat radiate from her. He felt her anger as she quietly seethed. He did not want to be present when she reached the boiling point, but there was nowhere else for him to go.
It had been a long day in more ways than one. They had arrived aboard theBremen the previous night, only to be told that Sen Dunsidan had not yet returned from the Prekkendorran, where he was personally overseeing the destruction of the Elves. Shadea had been willing to forgive his failure to adhere to their schedule, the defeat of the Elves was a major blow to the Free–born hopes, and the Prime Minister would want to make certain things did not go awry. She had heard of the defeat of the Elven fleet, of the burning of their airships, and of the deaths of Kellen Elessedil and his young sons. She had heard of the subsequent rout of the Elven army and its frantic retreat into the hills north. Sen Dunsidan had accomplished something important, and he had done it without her help. She would grant him his victory, even though it rankled her that he had deliberately gone behind her back to achieve it. She had gone to bed in the quarters provided for her with the expectation that their meeting would take place promptly the next day.
She had been wrong. A day of touring the ministries, of speaking before the Coalition Council, and of deliberate delays had left her convinced that something she knew nothing about was happening. She could feel it in the attitude of the Ministers with whom she met—men and women who were civil and indulgent, but clearly disdainful of her, as well. They extended courtesies because they would do so even to their worst enemy on such a visit, but there was no warmth or sincerity in the efforts.
By nightfall, she had lost her patience with Sen Dunsidan entirely. She had been advised of his return several hours earlier, but then he had asked that she wait while he freshened himself for their meeting. She had kept her composure mostly by telling herself that it would only weaken her position with him to reveal the depths of her irritation. If he thought he could undo her so easily, he would be much more difficult to manage. And she already knew from the news of his victory on the Prekkendorran and the nature of her reception here that he would be difficult in any case.
A knock sounded on the door to the reception room and a functionary cautiously stepped just inside the opening. Shadea came out of her shell instantly, but let him stand where he was for a moment, her eyes directed out the window toward the city. Then, drawing herself up, she turned to face him.
« My lady,” he said, bowing to her. «The Prime Minister apologizes for the delay and begs your indulgence for just a few minutes more. He is almost ready to receive you and asks that you wait—”
« I have waited long enough,” she said quietly, cutting off the rest of what he was about to say.
The words were edged in steel so sharp that the functionary winced visibly. He hesitated, then tried to speak again, but Shadea’s hand had lifted, her fingers had pointed in his direction, and suddenly his voice had failed completely. He gasped and tried again and again, but nothing would come out.
She crossed the room and stood before him. «Captain?» she said to the leader of her Gnome escort. His hard, weathered face appeared at her elbow. «Ready theBremen for departure. Take your men with you. I will be along in a few minutes.»
Her Captain of the Guard frowned. «It is not safe for you here alone, Mistress.»
« Safer for me than for some,” she answered. «Do as I say.»
He left without further comment, taking his men with him, leaving her alone in the reception room with the still–voiceless functionary.
« As for you, little man,” she said to him, «I have other plans. Do you wish your voice back?» The functionary nodded eagerly. «I thought as much. What service do you think I require of you if I am to grant you this favor?»
He didn’t need to ask. He led her out through the doorway and down the hall. They passed dozens of guards, all armed and at watch, but none tried to stop them. Shadea had drawn her Druid robes tight about her, but within their folds, concealed from view, the fingers of her right hand flexed in a series of intricate moves, calling up magic to within easy reach, readying herself for the unexpected. She did not think she would have to use her magic, but she knew enough to be prepared in case she did. She could not trust Sen Dunsidan, could not rely on him to act honorably toward her, even as a guest of state. One thing she had learned about the Prime Minister of the Federation—he would do whatever he felt was necessary to get what he wanted.
The hallway ended at a pair of ornately carved double doors that stood open to the light. The room within was candlelit but draped in its corners and along its edges by deepest shadow. She heard Sen Dunsidan’s voice, smooth and persuasive, a hiss against the silence. A snake’s voice, she thought. But she knew how to draw the poison from his fangs.
The functionary turned toward her questioningly as they reached the door, uncertain of what he was expected to do next. She solved the problem for him by fastening one hand about his neck and marching him into the room in front of her.
Sen Dunsidan was seated on a couch to one side, sipping wine and speaking with a shadowy figure seated in the corner of the room where it was darkest. Shadea did a quick search of the chamber, found only the two and no one else present, swept up to Sen Dunsidan in a rush of black robes, and threw his functionary at his feet.
« Ready to receive me now, Prime Minister?» she asked softly. She eyed the glass of wine he held poised midway to drinking and smiled. «Go ahead. Finish it.»
He did so, watching her carefully, clearly surprised by her appearance, but not altogether unprepared. A man like him was never entirely unprepared. She gestured at the functionary, who coughed out a few startled words, climbed quickly to his feet, and ran from the room.
« I was just about to come for you,” Sen Dunsidan said, putting down the glass of wine and rising. «But I wanted to make certain of what I would say before we met.»