The Shadowed Throne (41 page)

Caedmon actually stopped to think about this. “My rule is justice first,” he said eventually.

“As handed down by
who
, I wonder?”

“The Night God.”

“Of course.” Heath smiled. “I thought you looked like the pious type. Justice as handed down by the Night God first, of course, but by who in the second instance?”

“Us,” said Caedmon, without hesitation.

“Taranisäiis?”

“Human beings. True Northerners do what the Night God wants.”

“Hm.” Heath rubbed his hands together. “And how, exactly, do we know what the Night God wants? For instance, does she in fact want me to keep this nicely manicured hand of mine? Does she want this talented tongue of mine torn out and thrown away where it'll be of no use to anybody unless there's a hungry dog about?”

“What do you think?” Caedmon asked.

“You're a Taranisäii, you tell me,” said Heath. “Everyone knows you're a family that's close to the Night God's heart, assuming she has one. Your mother was, at least.”

Caedmon finally made up his mind. “You're a clever man, Heath.”

“I know,” came the reply at once.

“You're also obviously a brave man, and a resourceful one,” Caedmon continued. “So far, you've used those talents of yours to get yourself into trouble. But my mother always taught me to keep an eye out for useful men, and I'm not going to let your abilities go to waste. So here's your choice. Make it right now, or I'll make it for you. Either I call the guards back in and hand you over to be punished the way you should be, or you agree to start working for me.”

“Government work?” said Heath. “Sounds deadly. I'm not sure I want to keep this hand just so I can use it to handle paperwork.”

“Choose,” Caedmon said stonily.

“What would it pay?”

“Plenty,” said Caedmon. “But you won't keep any of it. Every oblong you earn goes to the people you stole from. You'll be given food, clothes, and a place to stay, and you'll report to me. And I warn you right now: If you steal again, if you take so much as a loaf of bread that isn't yours, it'll be your head instead of your hand. Understood?”

“Oh dear,” said Heath. “Servitude. And I spent so much time and effort avoiding it.”

“You'll get used to it,” said Caedmon. “Do we have a deal?”

“Can I have these manacles taken off?” Heath asked. “Pretty please?”

Caedmon sighed and removed the bolts that held them closed. Heath rubbed his wrists and stretched gratefully. Then he held out a hand. “My hand,” he said. “I'd prefer to keep it away from the reeve, so you can take care of it for me.”

Caedmon took the hand and tugged it briefly in the universal sign of trust and agreement. “I'll have Hafwen find you a room. Also, until further notice, you're confined to the Eyrie.”

“Now why would I go anywhere?” Heath said innocently.

“Just do it,” said Caedmon. “Unless you'd prefer to wear a ball and chain. That can be arranged.”

“What, and ruin my pants? I think I'll stay inside. By the way, who was that nice young lady you had in here with you before?”

“That was Lady Myfina,” said Caedmon. “One of my council.”

“Ah. Brains
and
beauty, obviously.” Heath grinned. “You keep good company.”

Caedmon rolled his eyes. “Talk to whoever you like, but keep away from Governor Isolde. She's not going to like this at all.”

“Keep away?” said Heath. “Certainly not. I plan to tease her at every opportunity.”

“Fine, but don't be surprised if Haaek pecks your liver out.” Caedmon made for the door. “Come with me. There's work to do.”

S
aeddryn's return to Malvern was a cautious one.

She had reached the walls of the city in a very short time, travelling fast and efficiently and without the need to stop for food or sleep. It was still plenty of time to plan, and by the time she arrived, she had decided what to do. She had to talk to people, but she had to do it carefully. Any one of them might decide to betray her to the half-breed.

She had no fear of being caught, but when she killed the half-breed, she wanted to take her by surprise. But, fortunately, she already knew the best person to speak to first.

She slipped into the city in broad daylight, using the main gates. They were guarded, but nobody had any hope of spotting her.

It was strange to be home again after so long, and after so much had changed, but she was almost relieved to find that it looked just as she remembered. She walked through the streets in the market district, idly listening in to the cries of the stall-holders advertising their wares, the arguments over prices and rotten apples. People stood on street-corners, adjusting the hang of their bags or stopping for a chat with a friend. The winter sun was bright and clear, and everything was peaceful. It was as if the trouble in the North were miles away, in another country. These people knew about it, but most of them probably didn't even care that much. It was all far away, somewhere outside their little worlds.

None of them had any hope of seeing the hunter that stalked in among them, sliding from shadow to shadow, taking everything in, preparing for the time when she would strike and set them free from the half-breed Queen's false rule.

She wondered if any of them would ever thank her for it when it was over, but they would. They had to. She was doing this for them. It was the Night God's will, and what she wanted was what was best for her people.

Saeddryn moved on and out of the marketplace, heading for the Eyrie, and the Temple.

N
ighttime over Malvern, and the moon rose, thin and bright. The Temple was still incomplete, but the priestesses' quarters at the back of the building had been one of the first things to be rebuilt. All thirteen of the senior priestesses lived there, along with the novices who served under them. None of them were married, and none of them had children. It wasn't exactly forbidden, since their founder, Saeddryn, had had both a husband and children, but it was discouraged. Temple life was strict, and both priestesses and novices were expected to stay indoors at night, to pray and meditate.

Alone in the single room that served as her home, one of the novices was doing exactly that—but she did it quietly, constantly aware of the risk of being overheard. Not that what she was doing wasn't prayer, but it wasn't exactly the kind of prayer her mentors had taught her either.

The young woman hunched over the small, carved stone she held cupped in her hands, and murmured the words to herself—words she herself had invented, and which she recited in secret every night.

“To ye who came to us from nothing, sent by the Night God's grace, I offer ye my loyalty and my soul. Blessed one, heartless one, mighty Shadow That Walks, ye are the master I choose. Watch over me, give me courage, help me to stand up when the whole world tries to push me down, let me serve my people beyond life, beyond pain and beyond hope, as ye did.” She took a deep breath, meditating over the triple-spiral symbol cut into the bloodstained prayer stone, and moved on, speaking her prayer for the night. “Great Arenadd, bless me and guide me. I believe in ye with all my heart. Watch over the North, and when the time comes . . .” She hesitated. “Come back to us, Arenadd, Shadow That Walks. Rise again, when yer people need ye. Forgive me, but . . .” She hesitated again—not quite able to bring herself to say what was in her heart, which was that she believed that time was now. But true prayer should come from the heart, shouldn't it?

“Come back to us now,” she said. “We need ye now. Our people are troubled, our country's at war. Without ye, we can't protect ourselves from the South. We—”

Behind her, the door slammed suddenly.

The novice looked up sharply, her hand immediately moving to hide the prayer stone inside her silver robe.

“Don't bother, girl, I know what it is,” said a harsh voice.

The novice gaped in horror. “High Priestess Saeddryn—?”

Saeddryn moved away from the door and silently strode forward. “Aye, it's me. Teressa, isn't it?”

“That's me.” The novice faltered. “Holy Night God, I . . . I'm sorry.”

“Don't bother about it,” said Saeddryn. “I already know about this little cult ye've started. How many years has it been goin' on, anyway?”

Teressa had gone white. “Er . . . about . . . about nine years, Holiness, but—why are ye here? How did ye get in? I thought— We thought—”

Saeddryn waved her into silence. “I'm not here to kill ye, girl, so calm down. Ye worship the Shadow That Walks, an' ye've been recruiting other people since ye were a child. Did ye think I didn't know about it?”

“Ye knew about it?” Teressa looked petrified.

“Aye, but I didn't see any reason to put a stop to it,” said Saeddryn. “It's harmless enough. That's not why I'm here, anyhow.”

“Then why
are
ye here?” Teressa dared to ask.

“Because I need yer help,” said Saeddryn. “I've come back to Malvern to talk to people, an' ye are the best person to help me do it.”

Teressa stood up, pointlessly stuffing the prayer stone into a pocket sewn inside her robe. “Why should I help ye?” she asked. “Ye are a traitor. Ye betrayed Arenadd, and the Queen as well. I should turn ye in to the guards.”

“I serve the Night God,” said Saeddryn. “Like ye do, Teressa.” She smiled. “I heard yer prayer. Ye want Arenadd to come back. Ye want the Shadow That Walks.”

“I do,” Teressa admitted. “We need his help now, more than we've ever done.”

“Ye need my help, then,” said Saeddryn, and by way of an explanation she stepped forward and vanished into the shadows.

Teressa opened her mouth to scream, but a cold hand clamped over her mouth and silenced it immediately.

“Be quiet,”
Saeddryn hissed, reappearing as silently as she had vanished. “I'm the Shadow That Walks now, Teressa, an' now ye've seen the proof. An' trust me; if ye betray me, I'll kill ye on the spot.”

Teressa was breathing hard, but she didn't try to cry out when Saeddryn let her go. For a moment, she just stood there, staring in wonder, but then she flung herself down at the old woman's feet.

“Master! Shadow That Walks!”

“That's better,” said Saeddryn. “I'm Arenadd's successor, an' if ye serve him, then ye must serve me now.”

“I will!” Teressa said immediately, rising to her knees. “What do ye want me to do, Holiness? Anything I can do . . .”

“Stand up,” said Saeddryn. Once Teressa had done so, she answered the question. “I need the shadow worshippers,” she said. “Everyone ye've recruited. Bring them together, all of them. I want to speak to them.”

“At once, Master,” said Teressa. “In the meantime, if ye need somewhere to stay, ye can have my room.”

“Thankye,” said Saeddryn. “How soon can ye bring everyone together?”

Teressa paused to think it over. “It might take a day or so, and I'll have to find out if any of them have a place where we can meet without being seen.”

“Work fast, then,” Saeddryn commanded. “How many of them are there?”

“A lot,” Teressa smiled. “There are a lot of us, Master. Ye'll be proud to see how many.”

Saeddryn inclined her head toward the novice. “Well done, Teressa. I knew I was right to leave ye in peace.”

“Ye were, Holiness,” said Teressa, with surprising firmness. She waited reverently until Saeddryn gave her permission, then hurried out of the room, murmuring prayers of gratitude and joy.

D
espite Teressa's promises, Saeddryn had had her doubts about how useful this eccentric little cult of hers would be—but when she saw them all gathered, three nights later in a disused warehouse, she was astonished.

There were more than fifty of them—men and women of different ages and classes. There were no other priestesses or novices, but several of them were clearly griffiners though they had not brought their partners with them. They all greeted Teressa with respect, but it was clear they had never met like this before. Saeddryn, watching from the shadows, heard every word they said.

“What's this all about, Teressa?” one of the griffiners asked. “What's so important? We're running a big risk, gathering like this.”

Teressa was wearing her best silver robe, and her face was alight with excitement and pride. “Trust me,” she said. “There's never been anything more important than this. Listen with the others, and I'll tell ye everything.”

She had set up a box to stand on, and she climbed up onto it now, with a quick glance at where Saeddryn stood hidden. Then she addressed her followers, and they all went silent and listened attentively almost immediately. Even Saeddryn was impressed by the command the novice priestess had over them.

“Everyone!” Teressa said loudly. “Fellow worshippers of the Shadow That Walks! I know this was never meant to be a cult; I never asked any of ye to serve me, and we've never met up like this before. We worship alone, so this isn't a ritual.”

“What is it, then?” asked the griffiner who'd questioned her before. “Why are we here?”

“Because something incredible has happened,” said Teressa. She smiled beatifically. “I always said that one day something like this would happen—that if we were patient and faithful, then the time would come when we could serve the Shadow That Walks. Well, now that time has come.”

There was a stirring from the others.

“He's back!” a woman shouted. “The great Arenadd has come back to us!”

The others took it up and started to exclaim in great excitement, but when Teressa spoke again, they went quiet, all eager to hear what she had to say.

“No,” she said, provoking a ripple of disappointment. “Arenadd hasn't come back. But someone else has. There's a new Shadow That Walks. Arenadd's successor. And she's here, now, to talk to all of ye.”

The crowd broke up in excitement again. The last of their attentiveness disappeared, and they surged forward, asking eager questions. Some started to move around, searching among their fellows as if they expected to find their long-awaited leader hiding among their own number.

But then Saeddryn stepped forward into the light, and absolute silence fell.

Teressa, taking her cue, stepped down off her platform and let Saeddryn take her place, and the assembled shadow worshippers fell back—half in awe, and half in fear.

“
I
have come,” Saeddryn said loudly. “I am Saeddryn Taranisäii, the High Priestess of Malvern. I'm the Shadow That Walks.”

“Prove it!” a man dared to shout.

Saeddryn growled and pulled her dress open, quite unembarrassed, to show the deep scars that ran down her body. Several people gasped or groaned at the sight of them.

“Don't ye dare question me again,” Saeddryn said coldly as she covered herself up again. “I'm the Shadow That Walks, an' the Night God has sent me here, just as she sent Arenadd, to do her will.”

“What is her will?” Teressa asked.

“To kill the half-breed,” said Saeddryn. “And place my son Caedmon on the throne. He's the rightful ruler, and the Night God has chosen him.”

“But Queen Laela is the rightful ruler,” one of the griffiners said doubtfully. “She's King Arenadd's daughter.”

“She's an imposter,” said Saeddryn. “Arenadd would never father a half-breed. She lied and seduced him, then she killed him and stole his throne. Now I've come to punish her and set the North free.”

“The North
is
free,” said the skeptical griffiner. “Isn't it?”

“Free!” Saeddryn laughed harshly. “Listen to yerself. Living in the Eyrie has made ye soft.” She looked upward, to where the holes in the roof let the starlight through. “I fought for this country when I was young,” she said. “By Arenadd's side. We set our people free together. An' who did we fight? Who was here then, in Malvern's Eyrie, crushing ye all into the dirt, an' selling ye as slaves?”

“Southerners,” a woman in the crowd spat.

“Aye, Southerners,” said Saeddryn. “An' where did this half-breed brat come from? The South. She's a Southerner; she's not one of us. She killed my daughter an' my husband, an' she had me killed as well because I stood against her. I defied her. Now there's only one true, living Taranisäii left, and it's Caedmon. That's why I'm here. He sent me.”

“The Queen's not a Southerner,” said the skeptical griffiner. “She's one of us. She's got her tattoos now—she went through the ceremony in the Temple. She went to Amoran and freed our people there. A Southerner wouldn't do that.”

“A trick,” Saeddryn said dismissively. “A way to get us to trust her before she killed the King.” She glared at the man who, to his credit, didn't flinch. “If ye don't believe me, then listen now. Listen, an' I'll tell ye what will happen if the half-breed isn't removed.” She pointed southward. “They'll come back. The Southerners will come back over the mountains from where we drove them back into the South, an' they'll come because the half-breed will bring them back. She'll hand the North back to them because she's in league with them. She's one of them. They sent her here as their spy, to destroy us from within!” Saeddryn spoke hard and forcefully, not caring that there was no proof to any of what she was saying. Ugly rumours would only strengthen her cause.