THE SHADOWLORD (30 page)

"Nay, mine is pinned beneath the weight of a Diabolusian warthog," Erudite said.

Spitting with rage, Hyacinth picked up a crystal goblet and sent it crashing against the stone hearth. Still not satisfied, she yanked at her hair, pulling at the strands with unconcern for either the pain or the possibility of pulling out the tresses by the roots.

Erudite sighed. Her father's side of the family tended to breed unrestraint. Chaleans were not known for being rational. Tempers easily flared, and with liquor added to the mix--as it had been after Hyacinth read the Rysalian message--that temper became a volcano waiting to erupt.

"I must go before the Assembly and seek a declaration of war," Hyacinth announced. "Are you with me?"

"No."

"Why not?" her cousin demanded in a strident shriek.

"Because we could not hope to win against the might of the Rysalians. There are millions of them, and less than ten thousand of us. If we take war to their land, we'll be at a disadvantage. We're used to lush forests and water at every turn. In that hellish place, there are miles upon miles of hot sand with no water in sight. No trees with which to replenish our quivers. When you take war to foreign soil, you're liable to lose."

"I don't want to hear that!"

"I know."

"I want my daughter back!" Hyacinth began to sob wildly, covering her face with her freckled hands.

Sighing once more, Erudite got up from her chair and put a comforting arm around her cousin's shaking shoulders. "Now that we know their intent, let's offer a hefty ransom for Orithia's return. Chances are, the moneygrubbers will pounce. My feeling is we'll have her back before too many more weeks have fled."

"He wants her, Eruie!" Hyacinth whimpered. "That bastard pig wants my little girl! He means to have her. Just as the Diabolusian wanted Aradia! The only way we'll ever get Ori back is if we go into Rysalia and rescue her. We cannot leave an Amazeen in the hands of barbarians."

Erudite's mouth tightened. "Do you forget my Aradia is also a captive, shackled to a Rysalian warrior? I shall never see her again. At least if we offer a large ransom for Orithia, we may be able to get
her
back."

Hyacinth dismissed the words with a wave of her hand. "Aradia offered herself to that one. She knew what she was doing."

"She Joined with that vile warrior thinking he would see to Orithia's release. Because of it, she has now been voted from the tribe. All for
your
daughter!"

"Phillipa said she went willingly to his arms. Your daughter has always had her head turned by a handsome face and muscular body."

Digging her fingernails into her palm, Erudite stormed from the room. As Defense Queen, the Assembly would need her vote before warrioresses could be sent beyond Amazeen shores. No way she would sanction such madness. As angry as she was with Hyacinth, she was angrier still with her oldest daughter. Aradia had thrown away her life for a man not worth the sandal strap of a beggar's footwear.

In the library where she spent much of her time, Phillipa looked up as her childhood friend entered. From the look on Erudite's face, Phillipa knew the meeting with Hyacinth had not gone well. "She's determined to send our women to war?"

"Over my dead body. I'll not give permission."

"I don't imagine the Council of Elders will, either," Phillipa commented. "Though the Assembly will discuss it, no declaration will be issued."

"Oh, war will be declared. Let us get our hands on a Rysalian male and you'll hear screams from here to Asaraba! What I wouldn't give to have Ben-Ashaman in my interrogation room!"

Okyale cleared her throat, drawing the attention of the women. "There's more to that one than you know, Majesty."

"Well, what does that mean?" Phillipa demanded.

The girl closed her book, marking her place with a raven's feather. "I sensed darkness surrounding him and warned Ardy. But because she insisted on staying with him and sent us home, I've thrown the runes many times, trying to scree why she behaved as she did."

"She saved his life in Diabolusia, remember?" Phillipa said, exasperated. "Obviously she feels some misplaced connection to him."

"Perhaps, but I sensed something deeper between them." Her eyes went to her Queen. "The man has much affection for your daughter."

"Gratefulness for his life," Phillipa scoffed.

"It goes beyond that," Okyale said. "He knew what we were about and could have had us arrested. It would have been safer for him if he had, but he allowed us to leave."

"Because he had Aradia!" Phillipa snapped.

"He had what he wanted."

Erudite moved to the table where Okyale sat. "What did the runes tell you about Ben-Ashaman?"

"That he's not what he seems. There's mystery surrounding him, evil, but it's directed
at
him, not coming
from
him." She held her Queen's gaze. "Your daughter's safer in his hands than she'd be in any others."

"Does he love her?" Erudite inquired.

"The runes say he does."

"And what of her? What do the runes say of her feelings for him?"

"They say he is her life-mate, and her love is great for him."

Phillipa swore beneath her breath. "Give her a handsome face and the girl melts like butter on a hot griddle!"

Erudite flinched. "Do I need to worry for her with him?"

Okyale shook her head. "The runes have said nothing of harm coming to her."

"Cast the runes for Orithia," Erudite ordered. "I want to know what the Ancient Ones say of that conniving piece of fluff."

Okyale pulled a burlap bag out of the pocket of her gown. She opened it, poured thirteen stones onto the tabletop, then turned each over so the symbols were not visible. After scattering them with the palm of her hand, she closed her eyes.

Her lips moved as she prayed to the Ancient Ones for guidance. When her hand stopped moving, she picked up a stone and transferred it to her left hand. Four times more she repeated the action. She pushed the remaining stones out of the way, then one by one took the five stones from her left hand and set them beside one another. Finally she opened her eyes. Frowning, she turned over two stones, the symbols of which had been hidden, then stepped back.

"It is not good?" Erudite said.

"No, Majesty, it is not." Okyale picked up the first stone. "This is the kai. It tells of Orithia's frame of mind. This says she thinks only of herself." She picked up the second stone. "This is br'ele. It tells her intent--personal gain, no matter the cost." She picked up the third and fourth stone together. "These are cuelm and stah. They tell of what is to come--death, with destruction to follow."

The fifth stone remained on the table. Okyale looked loath to pick it up. She scooped the other stones into her hand and returned them to the burlap pouch.

"That stone," she said, "is overpowering despair. That will be the outcome of Orithia's actions."

"Despair for whom?" Erudite asked.

"The runes do not say." Reluctantly, Okyale picked up the last stone and hurriedly put it into the pouch.

"With any luck, the despair will be the Rysalian king's," Phillipa stated.

"I intend to see Orithia does
not
get what her heart desires," Erudite said. "If her efforts are stymied, the future may reshape itself."

Okyale returned the pouch to her pocket, obviously disturbed by what she had seen. "May I go now, Majesty?"

"Aye," Erudite replied. "And thank you for the reading."

Okyale bobbed her head in acknowledgment, then picked up her book on herbs and their usage. She smiled hesitantly at Phillipa before hurrying from the room.

"She saw something she cared not to share," Erudite remarked.

"I got that feeling, too, but if it had pertained to Aradia, she would have said so."

The Queen sighed. "I think you're right. Now I must go and defend my position with the Assembly. Pray I say the right words and my cousin does not get her wish to send our young women half a world away to fetch a tart unworthy of our time."

"I'm of a mind to go back to Rysalia," Phillipa said. "I don't like the idea of Aradia spending the rest of her life in that heathen place."

"Nor do I, but she can never return to Amazeen anyway," Erudite said, her voice breaking. "The Council of Elders will not allow it."

"She knew what might happen if she tried to help Orithia. We all did."

"Perhaps this has taught your little band of rebels a lesson, my friend." At Phillipa's look of surprise, Erudite laughed. "Did you think I did not have eyes and ears in your group of misfits? I knew what you were planning an hour before you set out for Rysalia."

"Why didn't you stop us? Aradia would be safe and--"

"I'd hoped she could find a way to rescue her cousin. If she had, her actions would have gone a long way in placing her in the good graces of the Elders. Now..." Erudite wiped at her eyes. "Now, that will never happen."

Phillipa touched her friend's hand. "What can I do?"

"We will send a large ransom offer to Rysalia. I cannot believe Hasani Jaleem is as enamored of Orithia as the Diabolusian was with Aradia."

"He loved Aradia, and she him," Phillipa said.

"She told you this?" Erudite asked, her face showing shock.

"Aye. Had it not been for the prince's father, I believe Aradia would be in Diabolusia now."

"Could she really love the Rysalian?"

Phillipa shrugged. "Anything's possible, and he's a handsome devil. She's been a long time without a man. Perhaps hormones led her on this reckless course."

Erudite flinched. "I'll need trustworthy warrioresses to take the ransom to Rysalia and bring back that selfish little bitch of Hyacinth's--in chains, if need be. Will you do this?"

"It will be my honor, Majesty. May I take my misguided band of misfits?"

"Be my guest. Better with you than causing mischief here for the Elders. If I know Aradia, she'll try to get word to you in some fashion. If she has the ear of the Shadowlord, perhaps he'll allow her to speak with you."

"And if she does?"

"Tell her that her mother loves her. I want only the best for her. Say nothing to her of this, but I do not intend that my daughter spend her life in that hellish desert. I've sent word to Diabolusia asking the king if my daughter can find sanctuary with him."

"His wife won't like that," Phillipa cautioned. "Nor will his people. They'll remember how he felt about Aradia when he was a prince."

"It matters not how either his wife or his people feel. If he still has feelings for my child, he'll help me wrest her from the Hasdu's clutches."

The tavern lay in darkness, filled with smoke. One man slumped over a table, his raucous snores the only sound as two strangers entered and took a table at the far end of the room. After a cursory glimpse at the newcomers, those who sat drinking ignored the tall man in black and his smaller companion.

"Where the hell is the tavern keeper?" Jaelan grumbled.

"I may be mistaken," Aradia said, "but I'm willing to bet that's him on the table. He's wearing an apron."

"Too fond of his own wares."

"Shall I wake him?"

"Keep your pretty ass right where it is." Jaelan put two fingers into his mouth.

The piercing whistle brought the sleeping tavern keeper upright in his seat. He yawned and scraped back his chair. He got warily to his feet, yawning again, and started toward them.

"My humblest apologies." A good look at Jaelan stopped him dead in his tracks. His eyes bulged. He dropped to the floor, his arms straight out before him. "Forgive me, Lord Jaelan!"

At the sound of the Shadowlord's name, the other patrons scuttled away, quietly closing the tavern door behind them.

"Two beers--and be quick about it," Jaelan ordered.

"Your wish is my command, Milord!"

Aradia smiled as the man began crab-walking his way out of the room. She chuckled. "You
are
an evil man, Jaelan Ben-Ashaman."

Jaelan stretched out his long legs and crossed his arms over his chest. "Rank has its privileges. So how will you go about finding one of your women allies?"

"That's a secret I'd rather not share, even with you." At her husband's stony look, Aradia shrugged, then lowered her voice. "You would not tell me how you hide your identity as Lord Asim, would you?"

Jaelan held his wife's gaze for a long moment, then looked away, seemingly unconcerned about her suspicions. The tavern keeper brought their beers, locked the door and left them alone, while Jaelan sipped from his mug.

"What? No comment, warrior?" Aradia inquired.

Jaelan took another long pull on his beer. Licking the foam from his upper lip, he set down the tankard, drew in his legs, and leaned over the table. "Where did you hear about Asim?" He clucked his tongue. "Tarsis has a big mouth."

"Does he know?" she asked, lifting her tankard to her mouth.

"Tarsis knows less than he thinks he does."

Aradia nodded, understanding. "A dangerous game you play."

"Life is dangerous. Isn't that what you told me?"

"Who else knows about your rebellious activities?"

"How do you get word to a Daughter?" he countered.

"I tie a lavender ribbon somewhere in a prominent place here in Yulcaf--somewhere a Daughter will see it. I wait and see who unties the ribbon and wraps it around the index finger of her left hand. I then follow her, and we exchange code words. Code words I'll
not
reveal." She cocked an eyebrow at him, waiting.

"'Lui," he responded, then took another drink of beer.

"He's the only one?"

"One other, but that identity I'll
not
reveal."

"Only two?" Aradia breathed a sigh of relief. "How do you get in contact with your rebels?"

He gave her a steady look. "You don't need to know. There's enough insulation between me and the Protector that no one will ever discover the truth."

She smiled. "I did."

"You made a wild guess, wench."

"No...I'm merely beginning to understand the way you think."

Jaelan grunted, then drained his tankard. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Let's go find your Daughter." He dug into his robe and pulled out coins to pay for the beer.