Shapers of Darkness (14 page)

Before he could even take hold of the door handle, however, the high chancellor called out his name. Kayiv turned to face the man, terror spreading like a cold fog through his body.

“Would you remain for a moment please? There are matters I wish to discuss with you.” Dusaan was grinning, his face looking much the way Kayiv imagined one of Bian’s demons must look just before a kill.

“Of course, High Chancellor,” he answered, marveling at how calm he sounded.

He returned to his seat, conscious of how the others stared at him as they filed past, but keeping his gaze fixed on the floor. Only when Nitara went by did he look up. She was eyeing him with unconcealed curiosity, a slight smile on her lovely face. She said nothing, though, and a moment later she was gone, the door closing quietly behind her.

The high chancellor hadn’t moved, and he still wore that same predatory grin.

“It’s been some time since last we spoke,” the man said at last. “Nearly an entire turn.”

“Yes, High Chancellor.”

“I wonder if you still feel comfortable with your decision to join the movement.”

“Of course I do, High Chancellor.”

“You’re certain?”

“I joined because I hate the emperor, I hate what Eandi rule has done to this realm, indeed all the realms of the Forelands. That hasn’t changed.”

“I’m glad to hear that, though I must say, I’m also confused.”

Kayiv’s mouth was so dry he could barely speak. “Confused, High Chancellor?”

“Yes. If all you say is true, I can’t imagine why you would have been speaking with the master of arms early today.”

He couldn’t deny it. Dusaan would know that he was lying and assume the worst.

“I spoke to him of the invasion. I was interested in knowing how preparations were going and thought it best to ask Uriad directly.”

The high chancellor frowned. “Don’t I keep all of the ministers and chancellors informed of such things? Didn’t I speak of the armsmaster’s preparations just now, in this very chamber?”

“Yes, of course, High Chancellor. But I thought that perhaps you weren’t telling the others everything, and so I spoke to the master of arms myself. Forgive me if I was wrong to approach him.”

The apology seemed a good idea. Anything to blunt the high chancellor’s anger.

“There’s nothing to forgive, Minister. You’re welcome to speak with whomever you choose.”

“Thank you, High Chancellor.”

“What did he tell you?”

Kayiv blinked. “High Chancellor?”

“The master of arms. What did he tell you about the invasion?”

Was Dusaan testing him? Was he indeed keeping some information back from the ministers, information that Uriad wouldn’t have hesitated to share with Kayiv?

“Very little, High Chancellor. I mean nothing that you hadn’t told us already. It seems I was wasting my time.”

The high chancellor said nothing.

“He told me that preparations were going well, and that the men would be ready when the emperor ordered them to their ships. That was all.”

“Really? From what I hear, you and Uriad spoke for quite some time.”

A drop of sweat crept down Kayiv’s temple, making his skin itch. The minister brushed it away with his fingers, trying to appear untroubled as he did. “I assure you, we merely spoke of the men and their training. I asked a few perfunctory questions. I thought it best not to raise the matter too abruptly. I wouldn’t want to make him suspicious.”

“No, of course not.”

The minister felt as though he were sinking in swamp mud. Clearly Dusaan didn’t believe any of what Kayiv was telling him. And perhaps that was why he said next what he did. “Actually, we had a very pleasant conversation.”

Dusaan raised an eyebrow. “Did you?”

“Yes. I find the armsmaster quite intelligent, for an Eandi, and not nearly as cold toward our people as some of his race.”

“I’ve noticed the same thing,” the high chancellor said, though he didn’t look pleased.

He had spoken out of desperation, but Kayiv realized now that he might well have saved his own life. The minister had thought eventually to use the armsmaster as his protector, and here he had done just that, far earlier than he intended.

Emboldened, he went on. “It seems that he was unhappy with the emperor’s decision to begin the invasion this soon, and he blames the Qirsi for advising Harel on the matter. I tried to assure him that we wish only to see his plans succeed, and I think, by the end of our conversation, he had begun to believe me. Given some time, I think that I can win the man’s trust.”

“Oh?”

“Surely it would be a boon to the movement if I could.”

“Yes, I expect so.”

“Shall I continue to speak with him, then?”

Dusaan was glaring at him, but what could the high chancellor
say? “Yes, I suppose you should. Keep me informed, of course.”

“Certainly, High Chancellor.” He hesitated. “Is there anything else?”

“No, Minister. You can go.”

Kayiv rose and crossed to the door, his hands trembling, not with fear anymore, but with excitement. He could feel the high chancellor’s eyes boring into his back, but he didn’t look at the man again. Once he was in the corridor, making his way back toward his bedchamber, he allowed himself a smile of his own. He hadn’t truly been courageous—he would never fool himself into thinking that. He’d acted on instinct and out of fear. But he had bested the high chancellor. Not only had he made it clear to Dusaan that he was building a rapport with Uriad, he had managed to get the high chancellor to give him permission to do so.

In a way it made no difference what the high chancellor knew, or thought he knew, about what Uriad and Kayiv said to one another. All that mattered was that the minister and arms-master were linked in Dusaan’s mind. That was enough to ensure Kayiv’s safety. At least for a time.

As he turned the corner onto the corridor where his chamber was located, he saw Nitara waiting outside his door. Kayiv slowed, silently cursing his heart for pounding so at the very sight of her.

“What did he say to you?” she asked, standing there with her back against the wall, one foot resting against the stone as well, her knee bent at a perfect angle.

He should have told her to leave him alone, that what had passed between him and the high chancellor was none of her concern. Qirsar knew that he wanted to. But it seemed he wasn’t capable of speaking to her so. He stepped past her, opening his door and motioning for her to enter. She hesitated, then pushed herself away from the wall and walked into his chamber. Kayiv followed, closing the door behind him.

“He wanted to know why I was speaking with the master of arms,” he said.

“And what did you tell him?”

He had his limits, and his pride. “Why do you care?”

She shrugged, wandering restlessly around the small room. “I don’t. I’m curious, that’s all.”

“Does he have you watching me now? Is that why you went to him in the first place?”

Her cheeks burned red, and for just an instant Kayiv thought that she would deny it. But then she smiled, cold and certain. “I told him because he should know such things. Even if there was nothing more to your conversation with the master of arms than an exchange of pleasantries, the high chancellor needs to be informed.” Her eyes sparkled, the smile deepening. “And clearly there was more than that to what the two of you said. It almost appeared that you were plotting together.”

“Well, I’m glad to see that your loyalty to the cause is so absolute.”

“It is, Kayiv,” she said, earnest now. “You shouldn’t doubt that for a moment. I cared for you once, but I won’t allow that to keep me from serving the movement.”

“Is that a warning?”

“Only if you’re foolish enough to make one necessary. What were you doing with him?”

“Are you asking me that as a servant of the movement, or asa . . . a friend?”

“I’m asking as someone who pledged to end Eandi rule in the Forelands, just as you did.” Her gaze slid away. “And also as someone who doesn’t want to see anything . . . happen to you.”

For so long, he had wanted to hear her say something like this. But even having tied himself to the master of arms, Kayiv wasn’t immune to fear of the high chancellor. Any satisfaction he took in her last words was negated and more by the terror that settled deep in his gut. “Nothing’s going to happen to me,” he said, hoping he sounded brave. “I was merely asking Uriad about preparations for the invasion. When you speak with Dusaan, as I’m sure you will, he’ll tell you that I said the same to him. He’ll also tell you that he gave me his permission to continue building a rapport with the armsmaster.”

Nitara frowned. “Dusaan instructed you to speak with him?”

“This time I did it on my own. But I’ll speak with him again soon, on the movement’s behalf.”

“Why did Uriad look so angry with you?”

Sun from the narrow window lit her white hair, making it glow like Panya, the pale moon. Kayiv had to remind himself that this woman was no longer his lover, but rather a servant of the Weaver. In many ways she was the most dangerous person in the emperor’s palace, at least as far as he was concerned.

“He’s angry with all of Harel’s Qirsi,” he answered, looking at anything but her. “He believes we’re responsible for the emperor’s decision to rush the invasion.” Their eyes met for just an instant, before Kayiv looked away again. “I guess Dusaan saw to that, didn’t he?”

“He had his reasons,” she said abruptly, sounding defensive.

Kayiv wished he’d kept the thought to himself; this wasn’t an argument he wanted to have just now. “I’m sure he did. I was just trying to explain why Uriad looked angry.”

“I should go.”

“All right.”

Nitara walked to the door, pulling it open quickly. She paused on the threshold, though she didn’t turn to look at him again. “He’ll be watching you. You know that. And I will be, too. He . . . he expects it of me.”

“I understand.”

She nodded, then left him, closing the door behind her.

By now he should have been used to this aching in his chest; he’d felt it every day since their romance ended, and that had been a long time ago. Or so it seemed. Maybe this was just something to which a person couldn’t grow accustomed.

They would be watching, and that would make what he needed to do next even more difficult, though not much. He had known from the start that enlisting Uriad’s aid would be the least of his worries. Now he needed to turn Stavel to his purposes, and with him as many of the other Qirsi as possible.

A voice in his mind screamed for him to stop, to forget this madness and simply follow Dusaan to whatever future his movement managed to create. He owed nothing to the emperor or his people. Even if Dusaan turned out to be a tyrant—and
with each day that passed Kayiv grew ever more convinced that he would—he would be a Qirsi tyrant. And wouldn’t that be preferable to what Braedon had now?

As if in answer, Kayiv saw once more in his mind the way Nitara’s face flushed at the mere mention on the high chancellor. He wanted to believe that he acted out of more than jealousy and the pain of losing her. But all of it seemed tied together now in some great, impenetrable knot: his broken love, his hatred of Dusaan, his hunger for revenge, his fear of what the high chancellor might do to the Forelands if given the chance, his desperate need to make Nitara love him again. He couldn’t explain anymore what he was doing, or what end he hoped to achieve. He merely knew that he had to act.

Which meant that he had to approach Stavel.

Chapter
Six

y the time Kayiv awoke the following morning, much of his resolve from the night before had vanished, leaving doubts that threatened to undo all that he had accomplished the previous day. The minister forced himself out of bed and was soon walking across the palace courtyard toward Uriad and his men, intending to speak with the master of arms again. Dusaan had given him permission to build on their growing rapport, and Kayiv was determined to take advantage of the opportunity given to him by the high chancellor.

Upon seeing him, however, Uriad furrowed his brow, striding in Kayiv’s direction, so that they met far enough from the training men to ensure that none could hear them.