Firestorm (35 page)

Twenty-two

Ksathra was as she'd always remembered it, loud, crowded, and colorful. Yet as Raina strode through the wide boulevards of garishly painted shops and businesses and past the tenements piled one atop the other in the narrow side streets off the boulevards, on closer inspection, she saw the subtle signs of a city falling into decay.

The cobblestone pavement running through Ksathra had ruts in it and innumerable spots where stones were altogether lacking. The coating of mud sand, and lime that covered the outsides of all the buildings was chipped and patchy. The whitewash had long ago darkened to a murky yellow. The areas of planned parks to break up the unrelenting white stone, though still green, were overgrown and filled with refuse.

It was the demeanor of the people beneath the distracting facade of noise and activity, though, that gave Raina the greatest pause. A hopeless, helpless look burned in their eyes; the slump to their shoulders was somber, despairing. Women sat in the doorways to their houses, listlessly teasing out thick bunches of lana wool and spinning it onto a spindle. The men talked in hushed voices, or sent sly, furtive looks about them before joining a group on the streets.

She knew she shouldn't be surprised. The effects of Malam Vorax's harsh rule would be even more evident in such close proximity to the evil man. Raina suppressed a small shudder. She planned to get closer to Vorax than even these people. She must be mad.

It would take all her powers of self-discipline to control the reflexive response to his hands on her, Raina thought grimly, as she moved through the city. But knowing that was to be forewarned, and it helped to prepare for the eventual meeting. One thing at a time, she told herself. First, she had to get to Vorax. She only wondered how far she'd get before the way to the Far-salan ruler was blocked.

That answer was forthcoming as she approached the ornately pillared walled enclosure that spread out in a huge circle from the royal palace. Up ahead, past the open gate guarded by six stout soldiers, Raina could see the long expanse of steps, gleaming white and bright in the midafternoon sun. A young man, dressed in glimmering blue and gold serica-cloth robes and accompanied by several others, descended the steps, apparently headed in their direction.

Raina eyed him for an instant, then closed off further consideration of the man from her mind. What mattered was the palace that beckoned to her from the top of those steps. A palace, at least temporarily, now inaccessible to her.

"Halt, female," the most heavily decorated of the six soldiers said, moving to block her way through the gates. Of medium height, the man resembled a gnarled and thick-set robur tree, his red-bronze skin the obvious result of many cycles of living out of doors, his arms and legs scarred and bulky with muscle. Garbed in the green and black livery of the royal house, complete with toll black boots and a black headcloth to shield him from the intense mountain sun, he stood there before her, his left cheek bulging with some wad he was chewing. Over his shoulder rested a stout Vastitian cudgel.

"And where do you think you're going? Plan to apply for a position of royal courtesan, do you?" The soldier eyed her from head to toe, then glanced toward his compatriots, a leer twisting his lips. The other men chuckled.

Raina felt her anger rise but clamped down on a biting retort. She schooled her face into a bland smile. "I need to see Malam Vorax. I wish for you to announce me to him."

"Do you, now?" The big man smirked. "And so do hundreds of other females since our revered ruler's consort died three cycles ago. All wish for a chance to win a position of power at his side."

He grinned exposing a perfect pair of aterroot-stairied teeth. "One as pretty as you just might be able to turn his head. Not that I'm recommending it, you can be sure. It's rumored the royal consort left this life under suspicious circumstances." He paused to spew a thin stream of dark brown fluid from his mouth. Then, stepping forward the soldier reached out toward Raina as if intent on touching her.

She leaped back. "I'll take my chances with Vorax." She eyed his extended hand with a jaundiced eye. "Will you notify him or not?"

"Perhaps, and perhaps not." The soldier's eyes narrowed. "What's in it for me?"

"Vorax's gratitude, if you get me to him, and his enmity, if you don't." Raina smiled grimly. "We go back a long while, Malam and I think he'll be quite pleased to see me again." She shrugged. "But if you're insistent on refusing me entrance, it's your head."

"And exactly what is your relationship to my father?" a voice asked from behind the soldiers.

At the sound of the voice, the men standing before Raina froze. As one they parted, then turned, rendering the man standing behind them a deep bow. "We didn't hear your approach, Royal Majesty," the highest-ranking soldier hurried to explain. "This . . . this impertinent female distracted us, I'm sorry to say, with her demands and outlandish claims to know your father. I-I beg pardon for our oversight."

The young man who Raina had seen descending the stairs smiled thinly. "Your conduct was both dismal and reprehensible. But we'll deal with that later." His glance skimmed Raina, mildly curious but with none of the hot, hungry intensity of the soldiers. "And you, femina? You were saying you and my father go back a long while. Please explain."

Raina met his steady, skeptical gaze. Vorax's son. This was indeed an opportune moment. If she played it very carefully, he could well be the chance she needed to get to Vorax.

She smiled sweetly, taking in the man even as she did. He was slight of build, shorter than her by several centimeters, his pale blond hair falling to his shoulders in carefully formed curls. His eyes were a watered-down blue. His skin was as pale as his hair, and it gave him a sallow, colorless appearance.

What he lacked in natural coloring, however, he made up for in dress and jewels. His undertunic, falling to Us delicately sandaled feet, was of the finest gold serica cloth. His trim waist was belted with a heavily jeweled band of thin, flexible aureum metal. Over his long tunic he wore a long-sleeved open robe of the most brilliant rem lean blue, made as well from serica cloth. Rings of varying sizes and stones sparkled on all his fingers, and a chunk of jadeite stone, set in yet more aureum, gleamed from his left earlobe.

A fop, to be sure, Raina thought, but the sly gleam in his eyes belied his more self-absorbed outward appearance. This son of Vorax would have to be handled very circumspectly.

Her smile softened. "I knew your father when I was but a child. My father was one of his most loyal supporters, and I grew up in the palace. If your name is Sinon, you were just a babe then and I saw you grow to a chubby toddler before I left. Your father had a . . . special affection for me then." She lowered her lashes in an intentionally demure gesture. "The rest is personal. I'd prefer not to share it before these soldiers."

Vorax's son held out his hand. "Then come, femina. My name is indeed Sinon, and we can speak further of this in a more private spot—say, the royal gardens? My father is engaged in meetings for the next hour or so. I'd be honored if you'd spend that interim visiting with me."

Raina took his hand and managed some semblance of a deferential bow. It had been so long, and she loathed such affectations, but for Teague, she was willing to do even worse. Which she soon might, she reminded herself grimly, thinking ahead to the eventual meeting with Malam Vorax. In the meantime, it remained to be seen what this strange son of his wanted from her. And want something he did. If all went well, perhaps both of them might benefit from this little interchange.

"I thank you for your kindness, my lord," she murmured, her smile never wavering. "I would be honored to spend the time visiting with you." She took his hand and stepped past the soldiers, casting their leader a triumphant look.

Then she was inside the gates and, hand still clasped in Sinon's, walking around the base of the stairs toward the side of the palace and a cunning stone wall that enclosed a large garden. At the little garden gate, Sinon turned to his retainers. "We won't be needing your assistance further." He made an airy, dismissing motion with his hand. "Go. Get on with you. I'll call for your services later."

The retainers bowed low and scurried away, apparently as eager to get away from Vorax's son as the soldiers were to see him leave. Raina took in that bit of information and filed it away. So, Sinon Vorax was no more loved than his father.

He led her through the gate and into the garden. Lush with drooping shade trees and tall, aromatic cedra hedges, the royal garden was a cool, intimate hideaway. Water splashed from several fountains, to one of which Sinon led her.

A fine mist filled the air, setting Raina's sun-heated skin tingling. The water felt good. She smiled and flung back her head to catch the invigorating spray on her face.

"You're an exquisitely beautiful woman," Sinon said, jerking her from her momentary enjoyment of the refreshing mist. "Why do you want to sacrifice yourself to my father?"

Raina's head jerked down. Her smile died; her lips clamped tightly. She locked gazes with him, wary, assessing. There was no light of lust in Sinon's eyes. He but asked the obvious.

"Strange words, coming from the man's son," Raina replied, carefully choosing her own words. "One would think you view your sire as some kind of monster."

Sinon smirked and, walking over to a stone bench beside the fountain, sat. "And if you don't, you're either singularly naive or a fool, or you have some hidden agenda in getting close to my father." He arched a slender blond brow. "Are you some assassin then, sent to kill my father?"

Raina, startled, took a moment to answer. "And if I were, do you think I'd admit it to you?"

He shrugged. "Most likely not. I wouldn't care if you did kill him, though. It would just open the way for my rise to the throne."

"Well, I haven't come back to kill your father." Strange, Raina thought, how that original plan had indeed changed. It was the truth nonetheless. "I ... I left him cycles ago with great anger and pain still unresolved between us. I've had a long time to reconsider things. Now, I'd like to make amends, if Malam will accept my apologies."

"You're the girl he meant to wed and cast aside my mother for, aren't you?"

She steadily returned his curious gaze. "Yes, I was that girl, but that was many cycles ago."

"Well, I think you make a grave error in returning. If Father deigns to take you back into his favor, he will, I'd wager," Sinon said, "accept—no, demand—a lot more than apologies from you. Father has always had a peculiarly violent aberration for the feminas." He gave a disparaging snort. "Not that you'll find him particularly appealing these days, the disgusting old sand slug."

"I remember him as a great leader and a virile man."

"And those glorious memories are what brought you back, then, eh?" Sinon's lips curled derisively.

"My reasons are for your father's ears only." Raina smiled thinly. "I mean no offense, but I hope you'll understand."

He eyed her for a long moment. "As you wish, femina. You won't mention to Father, will you, what I said to you? It's our little secret, isn't it?"

At his cajoling, whining tone, Raina gritted her teeth. Gods, what a simpering little weakling! And he wanted to rule in his father's place? As despicable as Malam Vorax was, he at least had the strength and force of personality to command fear and obedience. But Sinon . . . Sinon must be an embarrassment and disgrace.

Satisfaction filled Raina. It was a sweet kind of retribution that Vorax was incapable of siring a good, decent man for a son. His empire crumbling around him, he wouldn't even have the comfort of knowing he had a competent offspring to carry on his name.

The irony was that the son who really was worthy to rule—Teague—might not have the chance he deserved. Two sons unappreciated by two fathers, yet one had never, ever, deserved the humiliation and abuse heaped upon him. A fierce determination swelled within Raina. If there was any way to do it, she would see Teague back on the throne that had always been his.

"Well, femina?" Sinon took up her hand and patted it between his two hands. "You will keep our little secret, won't you?"

Raina jerked her attention back to him. The look in his eyes was both pleading and shrewd. He tested her, she realized. Though the thought of allying herself with Sinon, however temporarily, filled her with distaste, Raina was no fool. She needed to get to Vorax, and Sinon, whatever his personal motives, seemed willing to help her. It could be no worse, she decided, than what she must endure to regain her place again at Vorax's side.

"Of course." She forced a smile. "It's our little secret."

"Good, good." He released her hand and stood. "Come. My father will be finished with his meeting soon. Let's return to the palace and I will introduce you to him."

Raina rose. Together, they left the safe, pleasant environs of the fountain and headed back to the steps leading up to the palace. A strange foreboding filled Raina, but whether it was for the meeting to come, or the unsettling alliance she'd just made with Sinon Vorax, she didn't know.

Already, events were beginning to take twists and turns she hadn't anticipated. There wasn't much she could do but adapt as situations arose, and buy time for both her and Teague until Aban and the others had the Tapestry Passage cleared. She didn't have to like it, though. She didn't have to like anything—just as long as, in the end Teague survived.