Lord of the Shadows (40 page)

ia learned she was to be sacrificed at the eclipse ceremony from one of the guards when he delivered her meal. The news shocked her. She was certain Dirk intended to hand her over to the Lion of Senet so Barin Welacin would have his chance at her. She'd been preparing herself mentally to face whatever torment he had in mind. But to learn in passing she was to die in a few hours, burned alive with half the world watching, felt like a physical blow. Tia wasn't ready to die. She had far too much to live for. She cried when she heard the news, but they were tears of anger, not grief.

They came for the prisoners just after second sunrise. She was escorted out into the hall and received another shock. The man who was to burn alongside her was Alexin Seranov. Surrounded by guards, he stood outside a cell farther up the hall, his expression haunted. They were not permitted to speak to each other as they were escorted through to the main reception hall of the cell block. Another guard was waiting for them there, holding two cups, into which had been poured a carefully measured dose of poppy-dust. Tia almost sagged with relief when she saw it. The sound of Morna Provin's screams still tormented her at times. She was sure she didn't have the strength to bear her execution stoically. But they were to be given some respite, probably because of the number of important people who'd come to watch. It wouldn't do to upset all those well-bred ladies with the sound of agonized screams as the sacrifices crisped and blackened before them. This was supposed to be entertaining.

The guard offered the cups to the prisoners. Neither of them was stupid enough to refuse. It was awkward, trying to raise the cup to her mouth with her hands chained. The poppy-dust was only a few inches from her lips when another officer entered the room.

“No!” he ordered. “They're not to be drugged!”

The cup was snatched from her hand before she could swallow it. Alexin's was taken from him just as quickly.

The Dhevynian captain glared at the newcomer. “You always did like to watch people suffer, didn't you, Sergey?”

The Senetian shrugged. “These are not my orders, Alexin. They come from the Lord of the Suns.”

“Dirk ordered it?” Tia gasped.
How much does he hate us? Is he so far gone he not only wants to kill us, but wants to watch us suffer as well?

“He was quite specific,” Sergey confirmed. “Said he wanted you both to know what was going on.” Then the captain smiled. “You both thought him a friend once, didn't you? I'll bet you're regretting that now.”

“You seem to be enjoying it, though,” Alexin remarked.

“What can I say, Alexin? I love my work.” He turned to the guards who were holding them. “Take them to the temple. Lord Provin will tell you what he wants done with them once you get there.”

They were jostled out of the cells and into a closed and barred wagon. As soon as the door slammed shut, the wagon jolted forward. Alexin caught Tia awkwardly as she fell forward and helped her unsteadily to her feet.

“What did you do to get here?” she asked him, clutching at the bars for balance.

“Adultery with the queen,” he replied in a voice devoid of emotion.

“With Alenor?” she asked in surprise. “Who would have thought it?”

“And your crime?”

“I was born to the wrong parents.”

“Then we're both victims of fate.”

She shook her head. “We're both victims of Dirk Provin's ambition, Alexin. There's nothing predestined about it.”

“I find it hard to believe Dirk ordered we were not to be offered any relief.”

“I don't. What I find hard to believe is I'm going to be dead in a few hours. I'm not even scared. Just furious.”

Alexin smiled wanly. “I know what you mean. Do you suppose there's any chance—?”

“That we'll be rescued?” She laughed harshly. “By whom, Alexin? We're in the middle of Senet about to be murdered by one of our own, for the entertainment of people who have traveled from all over the world to witness the power of the Goddess. How can you possibly imagine we're going to survive this?”

“Dirk asked Alenor to trust him, you know, no matter how bad things got.”

“Then she's a fool. And so are you if you think there is any hope we're going to be alive at the end of the day.”

The wagon jolted to a halt. The door was unlocked and thrown open. They were taken from the wagon up the steps of the temple. The pyres loomed large on either side of the massive bronze doors. Any doubts Alexin had he was really going to burn today vanished at the site of several guards laying fresh kindling over the damp wood and pouring liquid from several large earthenware urns around the base of the posts. They were halted on the broad top step while somebody went inside to fetch the Lord of the Suns.

Dirk emerged a few moments later. He was dressed in the ceremonial robes of his office, which extinguished the last flicker of hope Tia might have harbored that Dirk was doing this for any other reason than his own advancement. He glanced at the prisoners disinterestedly and then turned to the guard.

“Tie them to the pyres,” he said tonelessly. “I don't want the ceremony interrupted once we get started.”

He turned to leave. Even now, Alexin couldn't believe he would just walk away like that.

“Dirk!”

He stopped and glanced back at him. “This is necessary, Captain. When the Goddess reveals herself, you'll both understand.” Then he disappeared into the temple without waiting for either of them to reply.

Tia was manhandled roughly across to the pyre on the left. It was larger than the one on the right.
I'm to be the second sun.
How ironic. She struggled against the guards as they forced her up the pyre and shoved her roughly against the post. Her resis
tance was futile. Within moments she was chained securely and then left alone looking down over the plaza rapidly filling with people. The pyre reeked. It stank not of oil, but of something else Tia vaguely recalled, but couldn't quite place. Perhaps it was the stuff they were pouring on the wood to make it burn the right color.

The fumes were making her eyes water. Blinking back her angry tears, Tia turned to look at Alexin. He was dealing with this much better than she was. He stood proud and erect, as if he was to be burned alive by choice, not by the decree of the Lord of the Suns for the crime of loving his queen far more than duty demanded of him.

The stands in front of the temple were quickly filling with people. The eclipse was scheduled for the ninth hour of the day, but Tia had no idea what time it was. She guessed she had a little time yet. The ceremony hadn't started and people were still pouring into the plaza hoping for a good vantage from which to watch the proceedings. Not to mention the chance to witness the queen's lover and the heretic's daughter burn.

Tia closed her eyes and tried to forget about the gawking crowd. She thought of Misha instead, wishing she'd been able to get a message to him. What would he do when he learned her fate? Would he feel the same wrenching torment she felt at the thought of never seeing him again? Would the same grief for a lost opportunity haunt his soul? She remembered what Lexie had said about not understanding true love until you'd experienced it for yourself. Finally, Tia understood what Lexie was talking about. It was a pity she had to wait until she was standing here, counting down the minutes until they lit her pyre, before the realization came to her.

Opening her eyes, Tia discovered the stands were almost full. The last dignitary to arrive was the Lion of Senet, dressed in white as usual, accompanied by Prince Baston of Damita, Kirshov and Alenor. The little queen took her seat reluctantly
in the front row. She looked beaten down, almost shriveled by what was about happen. Tia had that much to be grateful for. Alenor would be forced to watch Alexin burn. Misha, at least, would be spared the torment of witnessing the excruciating death of the one he loved.

The doors to the temple on Tia's left began to open ponderously. The High Priestess stepped out of the temple, followed by the Lord of the Suns and a dozen or more Shadowdancers who spread out along the steps. Two of them carried burning torches. They took up their positions in front of the pyres and turned to face the crowd. So Dirk wasn't planning to set her alight himself. He was probably too gutless. Even Antonov had accused him of that once. The night he had killed Johan. Tia found herself a little disappointed. She was hoping to look him in the eye. Hoping she had enough left in her to spit in it as well.

And then Marqel stepped forward and opened her arms wide. A hush fell over the thousands gathered in the plaza. The silence was broken by the slow tolling of the town bells, marking out the ninth hour.

“I call on the Goddess!” Marqel cried in a surprisingly strong voice. “Hear us, my lady, and accept this sacrifice!”

At Marqel's command, the two Shadowdancers with the torches turned to the pyres and plunged the burning brands deep into the oil-soaked kindling at the base.

The eclipse ceremony had begun.

ne… Marqel jumped a little as the bells started tolling. She hadn't realized it was so close to the ninth hour. Although she had been in Bollow for some time now, she had never noticed before how loud the city bells were. But now, when the whole
world stood holding its breath, they seemed unnaturally loud and ominous.

Dirk stood on the temple steps behind her in those unflattering yellow robes, letting the High Priestess have center stage. She looked out over the sea of people and smiled. This was probably the greatest audience anyone had ever played to. The greatest performance since Belagren convinced Antonov to sacrifice his own son in order to restore the world to the Age of Light.

Two…

“I call on the Goddess!” Marqel cried again as the bells tolled.

The crowd was silenced by her words. The power she had over them was dizzying. For this she had been born. The stage was set, the props were perfect. This would be a show nobody would ever forget.

The plaza was crammed full of people, both highborn and common. Along the edges of the crowd was the large contingent of Senetian Guardsmen. The Dhevynian Guardsmen, less than a hundred in all, were ranked along the front of the temple steps with another line of Senetians. They were an impressive sight in those smart blue-and-silver uniforms lined up alongside the white and gold of Antonov's guard. Behind her she could feel the heat building from the pyres as they burned. They were massive, built on a scale suitable to the occasion, so the flames would take a little while to reach the victims. Marqel just hoped they didn't start screaming until she was finished. She didn't want them distracting her audience.

“The Goddess spoke to our beloved mother Belagren and showed us the way back into the light!”

Her voice was strong and clear and rang out over the plaza. She was a born performer. Everything she had ever been taught about how to hold an audience in her grasp seemed to make sense now. It wasn't even an act. This was who she was.

Three …

“The sacrifice of the Shadow Slayer during the Age of
Shadows proved to the Goddess that we had seen the error of our ways! We have sought her truth ever since, but some of you have been wavering! So the Goddess took our beloved mother, Belagren, to her breast, to comfort her for an eternity, and spoke to me of the same fears she had when Ranadon last turned from her teachings!”

Marqel hesitated, looking down over the crowd that was caught in her thrall. Even the two prisoners chained to the pyres seemed entranced by her mesmerizing performance. But then, the flames hadn't reached them yet.

“ ‘I will give you a sign,’ the Goddess said to me!” Marqel cried. “ ‘I will show the people of Ranadon, once and for all, that they are my people. I will show them who speaks with my voice! I will show them the truth …’ ”

Four …

The bells rang out again. Marqel glanced upward, but there was as yet no sign of the promised eclipse. Would the people panic when the darkness came, or would they be too stunned by the darkness to do anything more than stare at it in wonder? Was her power sufficient to quell their fears?

“When the Goddess speaks, all of Ranadon will know her power!” Marqel declared. “Those who doubt her will be silenced. Those who believe in her true faith will be rewarded! Those who follow her teachings will be honored! Those who have strayed from her path will be exposed!

“I speak as the Voice of the Goddess! I, to whom she has entrusted the care of this world, order you now to bow your heads in prayer. Speak to the Goddess with your hearts. Let her see what is in them. Open yourselves to her judgment!”

Five …

Every head in the crowd lowered in silent prayer. Marqel opened one eye and risked a look at the others standing on the steps around her. The massive building behind her cast a shadow over the steps and the first few rows of the tiered seating. Dirk's head was bowed respectfully. Claudio Varell was looking around nervously. The other Shadowdancers behind her were still.
Where are all the Sundancers?
she wondered.
Except for Dirk and Claudio, there's barely a yellow robe in sight
. It was probably a good thing. This ceremony marked the ultimate proof of the power of the Shadowdancers. Who needed that lot of senile old men and women around? The flames of the pyres were well alight by now. It wouldn't be long before Tia Veran and Alexin Seranov began to sizzle. Tia tugged against her bonds, a wild, panicked look in her eye, as the flames lapped closer and closer. Alexin did not move, did not even blink.

Six …

Marqel held her arms wide. “Come to us, my lady!” she called. “You find us here, gathered at your request, to witness the full might of your awesome power! Show us the truth! Bring forth the moment of darkness you promised, so the disbelievers may be humbled. Let us be reminded of the Age of Shadows. Let the darkness come! We welcome it because the truth in our hearts will return us to the light!”

Seven…

The second sun blazed bright and uninterrupted. There was no hint of the promised darkness. Marqel glanced at Dirk again nervously.
Had he gotten the time wrong? The day, perhaps?

“Show us, my lady! Show us your might! Assure us our sacrifices have not been in vain!”

Dirk had composed her rather dramatic speech. The words were far too eloquent for an uneducated Landfall bastard. But he'd promised the eclipse would begin while she was beseeching the Goddess.

Like a lot of other people, she surreptitiously glanced up at the sky, expecting to see something,
anything
, but still there was no hint of encroaching darkness. Marqel was starting to feel more than a little uncertain.

Eight …

Truly concerned now, she glanced over her shoulder at Dirk again. The Lord of the Suns met her eye evenly but remained unmoved. This was her show. The High Priestess was the one who spoke to the Goddess, not the Lord of the Suns. He was merely lending her support. Marqel glanced
over to where Antonov sat with Kirsh and Alenor. She couldn't see the queen's expression, but she could see the Lion of Senet and his son. Antonov's face was set in a rapturous gaze of absolute faith. Kirsh simply stared, transfixed by the sight of her.

“I call on the Goddess!” Marqel cried again, her voice almost desperate now. An uneasy restlessness began to infect the people in the plaza. They had come to witness a show. Surely, by now, something should have happened …

Nine…

Marqel bit her bottom lip to stifle her outrage as it slowly dawned on her what was really going on.

Dirk Provin had used her. She'd been set up.

In the most spectacular way imaginable.

He had elevated her to High Priestess, just so he could knock her down. The exquisite subtlety of his vengeance was lost on Marqel. All she understood was the glittering world she had come to know was suddenly in danger.

The sound of the ninth bell faded slowly, taking with it Marqel's only chance to publicly prove she was the Voice of the Goddess.

Silence filled the plaza. A hush of anticipation. Then a gasp of awe. Marqel looked over her shoulder at the pyres behind her. Instead of the flames taking hold of the sacrifices, they sputtered and hissed and smouldered and suddenly died.

The Goddess had refused the sacrifice of the High Priestess.

As the last bell tolled over the city, Marqel began to understand she had been betrayed.

The Goddess had spoken to the people of Ranadon.

She had—unequivocally—demonstrated to the world she no longer favored the Shadowdancers. Her position, the respect, the wealth and the fear she engendered—all of it slipped from Marqel's grasp in those few fatal seconds. Worse than that, she had been publicly exposed as a fraud. She risked a glance at Antonov. His expression was dumbstruck, shattered.
Antonov understood the implications even better than Marqel did.

Because when the bells rang out the ninth hour of the ninth day of Ezenor in the year 10,241, absolutely nothing happened.