Shadowblood

Chapter Two

The black uniformed servant led Sardec through the labyrinthine corridors of the Palace. He strode uneasily through the elegant corridors where he passed old oil paintings depicting famous scenes from Kharadrean history. His encounter with the Inquisitor had left him feeling watched and judged. Joran’s oblique questions had made him uncomfortably aware that something was going on and he felt that Asea should be warned.

He was not entirely sure how or why but a bond had grown between them. He was not bewitched by the Lady of the First as many of his fellow officers were, but he owed her the loyalty he would feel towards any comrade with whom he had shared hardship and danger. She had saved his life on several occasions and he had saved hers.

A number of soldiers stood guard; all men of the Seventh Infantry. The sorceress had been held in a position somewhere between house arrest and protective custody since just after the night Queen Kathea died.

The servant showed Sardec into the drawing room where Asea and Rik waited. He was at once struck by the contrast between them. Asea had not grown any less beautiful since he had last seen her. She was tall, stately, with luminous silver hair and the fine-featured, pointed eared beauty of the most ancient of Terrarch lines. Her features were at once calm and sensual. Her manner of dress had the elaborate complexity of the latest female fashions. She looked no older than Sardec although legend claimed she had lived for more than two millennia. She smiled as if genuinely glad to see him.

By contrast, the half-breed looked worse than ever. The expensive cut of his jacket and britches could not conceal the fact that he had lost weight, and he had never been fat to begin with. His features were gaunt and haunted which had the effect of emphasising the Terrarch half of his heritage. If only his ears had come to a full point he could easily have been mistaken for one. He had endured enough recently to make anyone look grim. Asea had only just managed to save him from being executed for the murder of Queen Kathea, and then only because she was the half-sister of Lord Azaar, the commanding officer of the Talorean Army in Halim.

What had happened in the Palace that night, Sardec wondered?

He had heard all the camp gossip and he still was not sure. Was it really possible that Lord Malkior, former Chancellor of Sardea had assassinated Kathea? If so why had he come himself, and not sent assassins? It made no sense; Malkior had a reputation of being something of a moderate among the nobles of the Dark Empire. There were things going on here that scared Sardec, strange currents of sorcery and politics swirled through the air.

He had seen some terrible things since he had begun accompanying Asea and he suspected that the Inquisitor was right, and that the Shadow was strong in this place.

“To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?” Asea asked. Her voice was musical and as perfectly controlled as the rest of her. He wondered just how much of the warmth in it was real, and how much was manipulation. Like all of the First, Asea was a consummate actress.

Sardec gave a warning glance at the servant, and said, “I found that I missed your company. And I was worried about your safety.”

Asea gestured for the girl to withdraw. As the door closed, she smiled and said, “Why today more than any other day?”

“Because I have just come from escorting High Inquisitor Joran to the Palace, and he seemed unduly interested in your doings and those of your protege.”

Sardec did not miss the look of complicity that passed between the two of them. He was certain that there was unease there as well. Did they fear a charge of miscegenation? It has been a long time since one had been brought against a Terrarch but the law was still on the statutes. Sardec thought about Rena and suppressed a shudder. He had as much to fear from such an allegation as Asea, quite possibly more.

“He was asking about us?” Rik inquired. His accent still held traces of the guttersnipe he had once been. It would take a long time for Asea to polish that out of him. Were they really lovers, as everyone suspected? It was the easiest explanation of why they had spent so much time together but Sardec suspected something else, that she was teaching the half-breed sorcery, which might cost him his life if the Inquisition found out. They were not at all keen on humans learning magic. It was a known fact that those who did practise the Art fell all too easily to the Shadow.

“About you very specifically. I think he has come here to look into Queen Kathea’s death, and I would not be surprised if he bears a Royal Warrant.”

“He would be a fool if he came with anything less,” said Asea. “And that is one thing Joran is not.”

“You know him?”

“He and I have had dealings in the past. He is a Terrarch of some subtlety. By nature he sees plots everywhere. The Inquisition is a natural home for his sort.”

“These days, Milady, he may be right. Queen Kathea is dead after all. Our situation here in Kharadrea grows daily more precarious. With my own eyes I have witnessed Terrarchs of the ancient nobility working the darkest of sorcery.”

“I fear, Lieutenant, that you will witness much more of that before the end of this affair.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ancient evils stir in the East. Lord Malkior and Jaderac were not the only dark sorcerers to come out of those lands. The plague winds that have blown all winter are no accident. I have seen sorcery like this before, on Al’Terra, used by the followers of the Princes of Shadow.”

“You think someone has rediscovered that ancient magic?”

“Or someone has been taught it.”

“By the Shadow? Terrarchs? Here?”

Asea nodded.

“And what motive would they have?”

“Why have people always served the Princes of Shadow? Power, revenge, ambition. I saw a whole world fall once. Only ten thousand of us escaped.”

“And you think some agents of the Shadow came with us.”

“I am certain of it.”

“If you are right something must be done.”

“I have already written to Queen Arielle informing her of this. I believe we should march East.”

“That would be suicide,” said Sardec. “We do not have the manpower for an invasion of the Dark Empire now. It would take months to assemble such an army and we would have to strip our Western borders.”

Another one struck Sardec. “Do you think the High Inquisitor’s presence has anything to do with this?”

“Doubtless we will find out in due course.”

Sardec looked at Rik once again. His face was pale and his lips moved silently as if he were trying to form words in a language not meant for human tongues. Was he sick or going mad? Sardec had heard that this happened often to human sorcerers. He had been this way since they escaped from Harven. One thing seemed certain — it would be best if Asea kept him away from the Inquisitor.

“Are you all right?” Sardec asked. Rik’s eyes seemed to be focused in the middle distance. He gave the impression that his mind was not there at all. A moment later intelligence and sanity returned.

“I am fine,” he said. “I have been unwell but I am getting better now.”

“You should be more careful of your health, for all our sakes.” Sardec hoped that the two of them picked up on his meaning.

“Will you have something to drink?” Asea asked.

“No,” said Sardec. “I must return to my duties. As always, Milady, a pleasure.”

“This is very poor timing,” Asea said, once Sardec had gone.

Rik nodded. In the depths of his mind, the presences that had been there since he had eaten the soul of the alien Quan gibbered agreement. They had erupted when the Lieutenant had brought the news. Rik hoped that Sardec had not suspected the truth of what was going on. If he did, he would most likely report it to the Inquisition at once, and Rik would hardly have blamed him.

He had, after all, practised the darkest form of magic when he destroyed the vampiric Elder World demon, and he had taken its memories, and all the memories of those creatures whose souls it had devoured into himself. There were times when he felt that what he had done would drive him mad, if it had not already done so.

Asea looked disturbed. “You need to get yourself in hand. I do not think you could meet with the Inquisitor at the moment. He would believe you to be possessed.”

“And you think I am not?”

“I think you are suffering the after-effects of a complex piece of sorcery that was almost beyond your ability and that you are lucky to be alive and with your mind intact.”

Rik could not disagree with that. For a while there, things had improved, but, with the persistence of malarial fever, the attacks of madness returned. His dreams were haunted and sometimes fragments of those dreams broke into his waking hours.

There were times when he found himself remembering the Quan’s underwater home near Harven almost with fondness, when he recalled the strange rituals of the squid-faced aliens with something like understanding, when he found himself reaching out for the flows of magical energy around him with a knowledge he had never gained from his studies with Asea.

Worse were the times when he recalled the lives of the people the Quan had devoured. Sometimes he remembered being a sailor on the cold grey waters of the northern seas. He had flashes of his lungs filling with water as the Quan ate his soul. He woke unsure of whether he was alive. There were moments when he thought he was the one who had been devoured and lived only in the Quan’s dreams.

Sometimes he wished he had never left Sorrow, never met Asea, never become embroiled in the deadly intrigues that surrounded her. He might have been happier if he had not attempted to claim his Terrarch birthright and master magic.

He pushed the thoughts aside as worthless. He had made his decision and accepted Asea’s patronage and now he would have to find a way of living with the consequences.

“Rik, pay attention,” said the sorceress. He realised that he had missed a lot of what Asea was saying. “Your life depends on this. Perhaps mine does too.”

“I don’t see why?” he said coldly. “You are of the First. You are kin to the Queen and to General Azaar. I am sure you will find a way to survive.”

Her smile was cold and dazzling and not without a hint of humour. “Your faith is touching, but misplaced. We are at war now, and not just with the Sardeans. The Princes of Shadow reach out for this world, and that means the power of the Inquisition will grow. Soon no one will be beyond its reach. Believe me, I have lived through such times before. Everyone will come under suspicion. Soon we will be our own worst enemies. Such mistrust has always been the Shadow’s greatest weapon.”

Rik knew she spoke the truth about the danger. He was descended from a long line of servants of the Shadow, and that of itself was enough for the Inquisition to put him to the stake. He supposed it would be possible that they might do the same to Asea if they found out she had been sheltering him.

Under the circumstances it might be in her best interests to have him done away with. He had been a useful tool for her, but he might have outlived his usefulness.

“You have that calculating look in your eye,” she said. “What are you thinking?”

He considered his answer for a moment and then he told her.

She smiled again. “I know you find this hard to believe but you are far more useful to me alive than dead, and that’s leaving aside the fact that I would prefer that you not come to harm.”

She had a point. Like Malkior, his lost father, the Queen’s assassin, he was a Shadowblood, undetectable by normal magic, unstoppable by magical wards. With the sorcery she was teaching him, he was becoming an ever more deadly killer. And he had the ability to sense when other Shadowblood used their abilities near him. He was the perfect bodyguard against the deadliest assassins who had ever lived. And those assassins would be coming for her soon, if her fears proved correct.

He had every reason to want to keep her alive. She was one of the very few people, and the only Terrarch, who had ever actively tried to help him, who even cared what happened to him, and he was not about to turn on her. She was, in her own way, as honest with him as she was capable of being, and he appreciated that too, with the sort of appreciation that only came after a lifetime of being deceived.

And she was teaching him astonishing things, secrets of magecraft that he had no other way of acquiring and which he had to have, if he was going to survive, and that was a thing he fully intended to do, despite the presence of the voices in his mind and enemies all around him. He intended to see that Asea survived as well. He had failed Queen Kathea. He was not going to fail her.

“What shall we do?” he asked.

“There are potions I can prepare that will calm you, and help you mask the symptoms. They will take some time to acquire the ingredients and to brew. In the meantime, avoid High Inquisitor Joran.”

“Might it be better if I vanished for a while until you create the medicine?”

“Where would you go?”

“Halim is a big city. I am sure I can find a place to hide.”

“What would I tell the Inquisition?”

“That you do not know where I am, and that will be true until I contact you.”

“And how will you do that?”

“I have a talent for finding my way into places where I should not be. I might surprise you.”

“I would not want you to surprise me so much that Karim or I killed you.”

“I am sure that finding such a way is not beyond my wit.”

“I do not know, Rik. I think it would be best for you to remain in the palace for the moment. If you disappeared it would only draw attention to you and make the Inquisitor even more suspicious.”

There was a discreet knock on the door. On invitation, the servant entered. She bore a sealed letter on a silver tray. Asea automatically reached for it, inspected it and then raised an eyebrow.

“It’s addressed to you,” she said, handing it over to him.

Rik recognised the hand-writing at once. It was from Malkior’s daughter, an agent of the Dark Empire, his half-sister, a sorceress and a Shadowblood assassin, perhaps the most dangerous woman he had ever encountered.

He opened it and scanned the few brief lines within.

“It’s from Tamara,” he told Asea. “She wants to meet.”