The Shadow Queen

CHAPTER 28

With his ears still ringing from Gray’s yappy list of instructions, Theran knocked on Cassidy’s door. He hoped she’d still be taking a bath or otherwise occupied, so he’d have a little more time to figure out what to say, but she opened the door before he decided to knock a second time.

“Prince Theran.”

Wary. Surprised to see him. And the look in her eyes told him plain enough that she remembered the other time he’d come knocking.

“May I come in?”

Hesitation. Then she stepped aside to let him enter her sitting room.

Who was with her? Not that it was any of his business. He was First Escort, not Consort, and the Queen could command the attention of any man in her court.

Except it would kill Gray if Cassidy had taken another lover.

“Am I intruding?” he asked when he heard some movement in her bedroom.

Her look said Of course you are, but she replied, “Not at all.”

Which was when Vae nudged the bedroom door open and joined them.

“Just females here?”

“Gray isn’t here, if that’s what you’re asking.” Her voice had a snippy edge to it.

He knew that defensive tone. He’d used it enough times in his youth when Talon had called him on something and he’d tried to slide around admitting he’d done something he wasn’t supposed to do.

What did she think he was going to do if she was with Gray? Go running to the Keep to tell Yaslana so he could storm down here and pound on everyone?

Maybe that’s exactly what she thought. They had to work to get along on their best days, and he had given her enough reasons to dislike him. But getting into an argument now would end with her stomping out to the garden, and that wouldn’t make Gray happy.

Theran scratched his head and resisted the temptation to pull out some hair. “Look, it’s like this. Gray is putting together a surprise for you, and my part of the task is to keep you occupied for a few hours.”

Her face tightened, the pleasure of learning Gray was planning a surprise gone before it had been fully realized. She took a step back.

He almost asked why she was acting that way when he considered what he’d said and where they were.

“Not that way,” he growled.

“That’s good, because the sun will shine in Hell before that happens.”

She didn’t need to be so vehement about it. He gave a good accounting of himself in bed.

He bristled. Before he said something about the amount of work a man had to do in bed being in direct proportion to the attractiveness of his partner, he remembered why he’d come to Cassidy’s suite to begin with.

“I thought we could go into town—not for an official visit or anything like that, but to . . . I don’t know . . . shop . . . or whatever females do.”

“ ‘Whatever females do’? Haven’t you ever spent an afternoon with a girl when you didn’t want sex?”

His temper slipped the leash, and he didn’t try very hard to rein it in. “I grew up in the rogue camps in the Tamanara Mountains, not in some comfortable village where girls flirt with boys in order to have a packhorse for the afternoon’s shopping.”

“Girls don’t need packhorses, you brainless ass,” Cassidy snapped. “We’re perfectly capable of carrying our own packages. You’d know that if you spent any time talking to women.”

“There weren’t many women in those camps, and there certainly weren’t fancy shops. We were there to fight, to protect Dena Nehele, to escape being enslaved by a Ring of Obedience and made useless to our people. So I don’t have town manners, Lady. I didn’t need them in the mountains, and Talon didn’t waste time teaching me anything I didn’t need.”

He saw her effort to pull back, to assess. And he saw something he hadn’t expected—and didn’t want: pity.

“My apologies, Prince Theran,” Cassidy said quietly. “I didn’t realize you had such a difficult life.”

“I had a good life,” Theran snapped. “I survived. A lot of men didn’t.”

He took a mental step back, regaining control of his temper with effort. They didn’t like each other. So be it. He didn’t care if she understood him. Gray was stupid in love with her, and there was nothing he could do about it. He had to tolerate her as best he could because Gray and that damn contract with Sadi chained him to her.

“Are we going to town or not?” he asked.

Cassidy looked away. “Yes. Give me a few minutes to change clothes.”

“I’ll get the pony cart and meet you at the front door.” Because he needed air and open space.

Because standing here in her suite, he had the odd sense that something delicate was being weighed down by their words and feelings—and was about to break.

I survived. A lot of men didn’t.

The words circled round and round in her mind.

Cassidy didn’t want to get into a serious discussion, and Theran’s stiff posture as he drove the pony cart into town didn’t invite small talk. So she kept silent and absorbed the look and feel of the land during the short ride into town.

I survived. A lot of men didn’t.

Those few words told her more about Theran Grayhaven than she’d learned in the past few weeks.

No, he didn’t want pity. He wasn’t the only boy who had been taken into the mountains to be trained to fight. He wasn’t the only boy who had been hidden from the Queens who had been corrupted by Dorothea SaDiablo. And there had been other boys who had suffered far more than he had.

Gray, for instance.

But she saw his quest for a Queen differently because of those words. It hadn’t been as simple as having a Queen who knew Protocol and the Old Ways of the Blood. It had been about having a Queen who could dazzle, who could restore the heart in men weary of fighting—men who might be asked to fight some more in order to restore Dena Nehele and then keep it safe from the Blood in the rest of Terreille.

The Queen was the heart of a land, its moral center.

Theran had needed a heart he could believe in without reservation. He hadn’t found that. Not in her.

That was something she was going to have to think about. But not today. Today she would be a visitor from Kaeleer who was being given a tour of her host’s home village. Today she would be Cassidy instead of a Queen.

Tomorrow was soon enough to think about who she would be in the days ahead.

As they entered the town of Grayhaven, she reviewed a mental list of what she could use against what she could shop for with a man trailing along. Yesterday she would have dragged Theran into shops that were bound to make most men uncomfortable. Now she considered which kinds of places her brother, Clayton, had gone into without balking; she figured those probably wouldn’t discomfort Theran either.

“Any particular place you want to go?” Theran asked, sounding like he’d bitten into something sour.

“Like tends to gather with like, so every town has communities. I would like to ride through the town and see as much of it as possible, but, for now, I’d like to see the shops where the court usually makes purchases.”

She’d made an effort to keep her tone “interested visitor” instead of Queen. He eyed her for a moment, as if he knew something had changed, but he wasn’t sure what.

“All right,” he finally said.

The shopping district had several carriage parks—plots of land where conveyances could be left while people were going about their business. Each park had a couple of youths who kept an eye on the horses and would even deliver a carriage if its owner didn’t want to walk back and claim it.

Since that took care of the pony cart, Cassidy was quick to suggest walking and wondered why Theran hesitated.

She didn’t wonder long. The men who recognized Theran nodded in greeting, then jolted when they saw her and realized who she must be.

“I gather the Blood here don’t make a distinction between a formal and informal visit?” Cassidy asked, stopping in front of a shop window. She wasn’t paying attention to the merchandise; she just wanted a moment to ask Theran about this behavior.

Which was when she focused on a movement close to the window and caught a glimpse of the proprietor’s face before the man rabbited out of sight.

Theran placed a hand on her elbow and tugged her away from the window.

“What . . . ?”

“That particular shop caters to men.”

“So?”

“Let’s just say you were staring at things that most ladies pretend don’t exist.”

Which made her sorry she hadn’t been paying attention, because she had no idea what he was talking about—and she was certain he wouldn’t let her go back and look.

“What distinction?” Theran asked.

“What was in that window?”

He shook his head.

“If ladies aren’t supposed to know about it, why were those things in the shop window?”

“Formal and informal,” Theran said, getting that Warlord Prince turning stubborn tone in his voice.

Fine. She’d just make note of the shops nearby and she’d come back with Shira one day soon.

“When a Queen is going about her own business in her home village, she’s treated like everyone else.”

“I doubt that.”

“All right, she might get a little extra attention from the shopkeepers, but the people we’ve passed . . . I don’t know how to respond to them.”

“They don’t know how to respond to you either,” Theran replied. “I don’t think any of them has experienced an ‘informal’ visit from a Queen.”

“The Queens declared Protocol to go shopping?”

He stopped walking. Since she didn’t want to upset anyone else, she focused on his shoulder.

For the first time since she’d met him, she saw genuine amusement.

“We’re standing in front of a bakery,” he said. “You won’t cause a scandal if you look in the window.”

She knew her face was turning bright red, but she dutifully shifted positions so she could look in the window.

“I can’t say for a fact,” Theran said, “but I don’t think any Queen has walked around this town informally in years. Might not be Protocol in the strictest sense, but the Queens didn’t walk among the people casually.”

“They’ve never done that here?”

“Not since Lia.”

He frowned so fiercely after he said that, Cassidy ended up giving him a nudge with her elbow.

“If you keep glaring at those pastry things, you’re going to turn the sweet cream sour,” she said.

Oh, the expression on his face when he focused on what was in front of him!

His eyes slid sideways and looked at her. “Maybe we should buy a few, just to save other folk from that soured cream.”

“Maybe we should,” she agreed too politely.

Boy. Bakery. Memories of Clayton, the time he’d gone into a bakery with a fistful of coins and no parent to hold him back.

Ah, well. Theran wasn’t eleven. Surely he had enough self-discipline to avoid eating himself sick.

When they entered the bakery, she wasn’t sure if the baker was going to fawn or faint, but they walked out with a box of treats that Theran was more than happy to carry.

The morning was turning out better than he’d expected—although he probably shouldn’t have eaten that last cream-filled pastry. But, Hell’s fire, he’d always had a weakness for the damn things, and it had been a long time since he’d eaten one with any enjoyment.

Twelve years, as a matter of fact.

A boy who was hunted couldn’t afford to have weaknesses—or habits that people noticed and would share for the right price.

There had been a handful of villages near the Tamanara Mountains that had been considered safe ground. Places where the rogues would get supplies, visit lovers or whores, collect news. Armed camps of a different kind, where people were trusted because they were loyal to Dena Nehele rather than the puppet Queens.

But everything has a price—including information about a boy with a weakness for cream-filled pastries.

Except, at fifteen, the lure of a woman proved stronger than the lure of a box of treats.

A young whore, not that much older than he was, who was willing to show one of the “brave fighters” some pleasure. He and Gray had slipped away from their escort—something that would have earned them a few licks of a strap if they’d both come back that day—so that he could romp with the girl. But he’d wanted that damn box of sweets too, so Gray went alone to the bakery they visited every time they came to that village, even though sweets of that kind didn’t have much appeal for him.

That too was known. Which was why the Queen’s guards who caught Gray coming out of the bakery were sure they’d captured Theran Grayhaven.

Gray still screamed when he saw one of those pastries, which was another reason it had been so long since Theran had tasted one.

None of which excused him from eating himself stupid this morning.

Still, Cassidy wasn’t a torturous companion on a shopping trip. He’d caught a few wistful glances from her as they passed shops where, given a choice of going in or being whipped, he’d take the whipping, but she hadn’t insisted on going inside.

Sadi would walk into a shop like that, Theran thought as he waited for Cassidy to finish purchasing a few books. Hell’s fire, Sadi wouldn’t just walk into a shop like that; he’d dominate the place and have opinions about satin and lace and the advantages of each when worn against a woman’s privates.

Would Gray walk into a shop like that?

Cassidy turned away from the counter and studied him. “You look a little green.”

Well, wasn’t that just fine?

She shook her head. “I guess males don’t outgrow it.”

“Outgrow what?” Glad to be out of the stuffy shop, Theran took a deep breath. Didn’t help. It was a fine summer morning, but it was starting to feel a bit too hot and sticky.

But that might have been him and not the weather.

“Put a man in a bakery and he turns into a boy.”

“You’re starting to sound like Vae.” Who was home sulking because he wouldn’t let her come with them. The townsfolk had enough to contend with, having a Queen trying to act like she was one of them, without a yappy dog around telling everyone what to do.

Cassidy bit her lip and shook her head.

Damn. And the morning had been going well. For the most part.

“It’s almost time for the midday meal,” Cassidy said.

“I don’t think so.”

“I want a steak, and you need one. Choose a dining house, Prince.”

You turn Queen fast enough when you want something, Theran thought. But the idea of a steak—and just sitting still for a bit—had more appeal than he’d first thought, so he led them to a dining house that had an enclosed courtyard for private outdoor dining.

The courtyard needed to be cleansed by a Black Widow. Blood had dined there—and done other things there.

It was clear that the owners of the establishment had made an effort to scour away the past, so Cassidy said nothing to upset anyone. Such things were best done quietly anyway. And since they had been outlawed, finding a Black Widow might not be the easiest thing.

Maybe Shira would know how to get in touch with other Black Widows.

A task for another day, Cassidy thought. The food was excellent, and even though she was less comfortable than she might have been, she could see herself being a regular guest here.

As for Theran . . . Well, the steak was waging war on the pastries, and judging by the color of his skin now, the steak was winning. So was the way a man who wore a Green Jewel burned food.

She waited until he’d eaten three-quarters of his steak. Then she reached over and snagged the rest with her fork.

“Hey,” Theran protested. “I wasn’t finished eating that.”

“Yes, you were,” Cassidy replied, setting that piece and the one she’d kept from her own meal on her bread plate.

“What . . . ?” Theran stared at her as she put the bread plate on the ground beside her.

“There you go, Vae,” Cassidy said.

Theran’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped as the Sceltie dropped the sight shield and gave him a tail-tip wag. She sniffed the steak and wagged her tail with more enthusiasm.

“When did she get here?” Theran asked.

“She caught up to us when we left the carriage park,” Cassidy said, giving him a wide smile.

“How’d she avoid being stepped on when no one could see her?”

“Grf.”

Guess Vae is still sulking, Cassidy thought. At least where Theran is concerned.

“She can air walk,” Cassidy said. “She was trotting above us.” She fiddled with her spoon and wondered how to ask a question she knew wouldn’t sit well with a warrior. Especially a Warlord Prince. “You weren’t aware of her, were you?”

“No, I wasn’t. Were you?”

“Yes. But kindred have a different feel from the human Blood, and it takes practice—and awareness—to detect their presence.”

“If they’re sight shielded and not yapping, they’d be hard to find,” Theran said.

“Grf,” Vae said, finishing the last bit of steak.

“They don’t have to sight shield to go undetected,” Cassidy said. “If there were twenty Scelties in a yard, could you pick out the one who was kindred? Especially if you weren’t aware of the existence of kindred? Kindred Scelties and horses lived around humans for a lot of years with no one realizing they were Blood. They don’t reveal their presence unless they choose to, Theran.”

She watched him absorb her words. Someone who wore a darker Jewel could have gone undetected and followed him, but he should have sensed a Purple Dusk witch who had been trailing him for hours.

A witch is a witch, Theran. Don’t dismiss one because she looks different from you.

A lesson the Blood in Kaeleer were still learning when it came to the kindred.

“Coffee?” he asked.

“Yes, please.”

She wanted to linger a little longer, since it was a lovely summer day. And now that Vae’s presence was acknowledged, she thought the two of them could persuade Theran to show her a particular part of town.

How did I get talked into this? Theran asked himself. He knew how. Sure he did. Two females yapping at him. One of them even growled at him when he’d refused to do this, and it wasn’t Vae.

So here he was, driving the pony cart into the landen part of the town.

“Landens usually have their own villages,” Cassidy said.

Theran nodded to the guards who patrolled this part of Grayhaven. Two nodded back and mounted their horses to provide an escort.

“Most still do,” Theran replied, “but some landens were resettled as part of Blood villages after their own villages burned during the uprisings.” And making them live so close to the Blood kept them on a very short leash.

That didn’t mean the Blood liked having a landen slum attached to their town.

Bitterness laced his voice as he looked at the shops they passed and the people who watched them. “Damn landens are nothing but a boil on the town’s backside.”

“They’re people,” Cassidy said. “They belong to this land, same as you.”

“They would have driven us out if they could. Took us two years to crush the uprisings.”

“How many died in those two years?” Cassidy asked.

“More Blood than we could afford to lose.”

“And how many landens?”

“Not enough.”

She sighed. “All the more reason for me to see this part of the town.”

Exactly the reason she shouldn’t be there. But it was pointless to argue now that they’d crossed that boundary, and there were other Blood wandering these streets.

Market day, Theran realized. When power—and the unspoken threat of its being unleashed—was another marker on the table, a few coins could buy a Blood family provisions for a week at the landen markets.

“What’s that?” Cassidy asked, sitting up straighter.

“A craftmen’s courtyard,” Theran replied, glancing in that direction. “Potters, weavers, and others of that sort put out their wares. Some even work on a piece to—”

“Stop,” Cassidy said. “Theran, stop the cart, I want to—”

“No.”

*Theran? Theran!*

Shit. The little bitch would yap at him for the rest of the day. And Cassidy wouldn’t be much better.

He gave the guards a psychic tap to alert them as he reined in.

Cassidy and Vae were out of the cart and walking back the way they’d come before he could set the brake and tie off the reins.

One of the guards dismounted and came to stand at the horse’s head. “I’ll keep an eye on the cart, but you’d best shield those packages. Lots of quick fingers here could lift a package and be on the next street before you know you’ve been robbed.”

“Thanks for the reminder.” Theran put a Green shield around the back of the cart, then hurried to catch up to Cassidy. If the packages were stolen, it would give the Blood a reason to shake this part of town. If the Queen was injured . . . Well, he wasn’t sure who would be going to war with whom, especially once Sadi and Yaslana heard about it, but no matter who stepped onto the battleground, a lot of the town would burn before the fighting was done.

Cassidy had stopped before a weaver’s table.

Family group, Theran decided. Man, woman, adolescent boy, and young girl. The man had a hard face and a look in his eyes Theran recognized.

Fighter.

“This is lovely work,” Cassidy said, smiling at the girl. “And this is yours?”

“Y-yes, Lady.”

Cassidy stepped closer to the loom and the unfinished piece—and the girl.

The man stiffened.

Theran descended to the depth of his Green Jewel and prepared to rise to the killing edge.

But Cassidy pointed at the loom, not touching child or work.

“What kind of pattern is this?”

“It’s a traditional pattern, Lady,” the woman said. “Dena Nehele has traditional patterns for each season. The girl is weaving a summer pattern.”

“Lovely colors,” Cassidy said, directing her remarks to the girl. “Did you choose them?”

The girl nodded.

“You have a good eye for color.”

By now the other merchants and their customers had stopped their own bartering to watch this exchange. A few had even sidled closer.

But not too close. One slashing look from him was enough to have them reconsidering the wisdom of getting too close.

“Are you planning to sell this piece when it’s done?” Cassidy asked.

Tension flashed through the landens, the emotion so strong it surprised a growl out of Vae in response.

“Why?” the man asked roughly.

“Because I’d like to buy it,” Cassidy said, looking confused. “As I said, it’s lovely work. The traditional design would appeal to my mother, so I’d like to buy it for her as a Winsol gift. If you think it would be completed by then,” she added, once more addressing the girl.

The girl nodded.

“We would be pleased to make a gift of it,” the man said.

If you were any more pleased, you’d choke on the words, Theran thought, hearing the man’s anger and bitterness from being obliged over the years to provide a good number of “gifts” to keep his family safe.

Bristling, Cassidy straightened to her full height. “You’ll do no such thing. If the piece is being made to sell, then you should make a reasonable profit on it. Besides, it’s not for you to decide. This is between me and the young lady. When she delivers the piece to the Grayhaven estate, we’ll sit down and discuss the price.”

Landens in my home? Never!

But Theran saw the man’s face turn white with fear, and he wondered what had happened to other landens who had gone up to the estate.

“Is it a bargain?” Cassidy asked, holding out a hand.

The girl glanced at her father, confused enough by the tension to hesitate.

*You are supposed to shake hands now,* Vae said. *That is what humans do for bargains.*

Stunned looks all around as the people stared at the Sceltie.

*I like this human puppy,* Vae said, wagging her tail. *She has good smells.*

The woman clapped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes were bright with laughter. The man looked like he’d been whacked in the head.

“I know the feeling,” Theran muttered.

A flash of humor in the man’s eyes.

Seeing the change in her father, and intrigued by a talking dog, the girl shook hands with Cassidy, sealing their bargain.

And that, thank the Darkness, would end this visit.

After bidding them all a good day, Cassidy headed back to the pony cart. She smiled at him as he fell into step beside her, as if nothing unusual had happened.

It hadn’t, he realized. Not for her. This wasn’t the first time she had purchased something from a landen.

What kind of place was Dharo that a Queen would shop in a landen village? Or was it that, wearing a Rose Jewel, Cassidy didn’t feel as different from landens as the darker-Jeweled Blood?

He didn’t have answers. Wasn’t sure he wanted any. But he had to let the rest of the First Circle know about their Queen’s potential for doing the unusual.

Vae growled. That was the only warning he had before he heard a child scream in pain and a man roar in outrage.

Theran spun around to meet the threat. When he saw the two adolescent Warlords standing a few paces away from the weaver’s table, he hesitated.

Cassidy didn’t. She ran back to the landen family.

He—and the guards—felt the punch of Rose power and saw one adolescent Warlord get knocked off his feet. The other young Warlord staggered under the punch, but he wore a Summer-sky Jewel and was able to absorb most of Cassidy’s strike.

Rose shields went up in front of the landens. Rose shields went up around Cassidy as she called in a round-headed club and settled into a fighting stance.

“You bitch!” A man old enough to be the Warlords’ father ran toward them. “I’ll teach you a lesson, bitch.”

Hell’s fire.

Theran took a step toward Cassidy, intending to yank her out of a fight she shouldn’t have gotten involved in, since it wasn’t Blood against Blood.

Then Vae launched herself at the man, and Theran saw a small dog who knew her Craft yank a full-grown man off his feet.

And heard bone snap as jaws enhanced by Purple Dusk power closed on the man’s forearm.

The Summer-sky Warlord launched himself at Cassidy. Theran received another shock when Cassidy bared her teeth and met the attack, using the club with enough savagery to break through shields stronger than her own and drive the Warlord back.

By then Vae was beside Cassidy, Purple Dusk shields around them both.

*Theran? Theran!*

*Prince?* one of the guards said. *What should we do?* Damned if he knew. They shouldn’t have been in this fight in the first place.

*I smell blood,* Vae said.

Of course you do, you little bitch, Theran thought. You bit a man and tore up his arm.

But Cassidy looked behind her, then screamed, “SHIRA!”

The Craft-enhanced sound probably wouldn’t reach the estate, but it was going to shake up the Blood closest to this part of town.

“You hurt my boys!” the older Warlord shouted as he got to his feet, cradling the broken arm.

“They hurt the girl,” Cassidy snarled.

“Landen slut,” the Warlord snarled back.

“Girl. I am the Queen here, and that makes her one of mine. And no one lays a hand on one of mine.”

“Queen, is it? Rose-Jeweled bitch, you don’t have the power to be a Queen.”

“Try me.” Cassidy shifted her stance. “You want a fight? Draw the line.”

The Warlord hesitated. Theran felt the guards recoil in shock.

And he saw everything he’d hoped for going down in ruins because of Cassidy’s foolish actions.

And he saw Gray breaking under the pain of losing her because she wouldn’t survive this fight. Cassidy and Vae against those three Warlords? Even wounded, the males would rip the witches to pieces.

He hated her. In that moment, when he knew what he had to do and choked on the knowledge, he hated her.

But making a choice, he stepped across the boundary of that small battleground. “If you want to draw the line, you do that,” he told the Warlord. “But you won’t be meeting her. You’ll be meeting me on the killing field.”

“And me.” Ranon dropped the sight shield as he moved to guard Cassidy’s left side, his Shalador blade flashing in the sun.

“Us,” Archerr said, flanking the three Warlords.

More sight shields were dropped. More blades flashed in the sun.

Except for Powell and Talon, the whole First Circle was there.

*How . . . ?* Theran asked Ranon.

*Vae called us.*

The bitter anger in Ranon’s thoughts made it plain that he thought the First Escort should have been the one to call the court to the Queen’s defense.

Which was true.

“I need Shira here,” Cassidy said, glancing at Ranon.

“I’m here. Drop your shield, Cassidy, so I can get to the girl.”

More shields. Layers of them going up in front of Cassidy and curving around to close off the area where the landen family huddled.

Layers of shields formed by the Warlord Princes who served Cassidy.

But not the Green. His strength wasn’t needed, and if he added it now, it would feel like a lie.

“You can drop your shield now, Lady,” Ranon said.

The Rose shields behind Cassidy vanished. Shira rushed over to the girl, who was still wailing.

“Let me have a look.” Shira pulled the girl’s hands away from her face. “I’m a Healer. I’m going to help—”

“Shira?” Cassidy said.

“Hell’s fire,” Shira said. Then she looked at the girl’s mother. “Give me a hand. Come on, darling. Come back here with us.” She hustled the girl to the back of the family’s space, where they had a canopy for shade and a small table and chairs.

“Shira?” Cassidy said.

“Let me work!”

It’s bad, Theran thought, remembering other Healers who had that particular tone in their voices.

“That Healer should be looking after my arm, not some slut’s face,” the older Warlord said.

“If he’s the one who threw the stone, I’ll be happy to take care of his arm,” Shira said. “And I promise there won’t be much left of it when I get done.”

All the men, even Ranon, looked startled by the words. Cassidy just nodded.

“Well,” the older Warlord said, “I guess it’s done. We’ll be on our way.”

“It isn’t done,” Cassidy said. “Everything has a price, and your little bit of sport is going to cost you.”

“Now, look here . . . ,” the Warlord began, taking a step toward Cassidy.

Blades were raised in warning. Cassidy and Vae bared their teeth and snarled.

“What is the Queen’s will?” Theran asked.

Cassidy walked over to the loom and stared for too long before she turned back to the men.

“The weaving is ruined,” she said. “From the smell of it, there’s horse manure along with some other muck. Since the streets are dry, the only way to make this kind of shit soup is by making it somewhere else and bringing it here.”

A quick glance at the youngsters’ faces confirmed it.

“So that ruined piece of weaving will cost you one hundred gold marks,” Cassidy said, her eyes filled with a wild fury as she stared at the older Warlord.

“What?” the Warlord yelled. “For that piece of—”

Vae snarled, and the sound rumbled through the whole street.

“One hundred gold marks as compensation for the lost work and as a penalty for not teaching your boys some manners. As for them . . .” Cassidy’s eyes focused on the two younger Warlords. “Ten days’ labor, without using Craft, or ten lashes.”

“I’ll handle the whip if it comes to that,” Ranon said. “And I’ll strip flesh from bone.”

“Shalador bastard,” the Warlord growled.

“Since you understand the Shalador temper so well,” Cassidy said, “your little bastards will work under Prince Ranon’s supervision.”

“Don’t you insult my boys.”

“Ten days or ten lashes,” Cassidy snapped. “Choose.”

“It’s not right, making my boys work like landens,” the Warlord protested.

“It will help them appreciate what someone without Craft has to do in order to accomplish a task. Choose.”

“You’ve got no right!” the Warlord shouted.

Something in the air. Something delicate being weighed down by words. Bending, bending. Almost breaking. If it broke . . .

Theran stepped closer to Cassidy. “She is the Queen of Dena Nehele. Her will is the law. You’ve been given a choice, Warlords, and the Queen’s First Circle stands witness.” And may the Darkness help me, I stand witness.

The feeling in the air was gone, as if a question had been answered.

“Ten days’ labor,” the Warlord said. “And I’ll bring the gold marks when—”

“No,” Cassidy said. “The three of you are forbidden to set foot in the landen section of this town. You come here again, you’ll be exiled from Dena Nehele.”

The guards gasped. Even the Warlord Princes who supported her looked stunned.

“You will report to the Steward of the court and give the payment to him,” Cassidy said.

“Can’t come up with that much all at once,” the Warlord said.

“Then you’ll work out a payment arrangement with the Steward—and if you don’t show up with the payment, the First Circle will be showing up on your doorstep to find out why. And they can take the payment however they see fit.”

*Mother Night, Cassidy,* Theran said. *You’ve just told him the Warlord Princes can rip him apart without penalty.*

She looked at him with eyes still filled with fury.

He didn’t know this woman. Didn’t know this Queen.

But he knew with cold certainty that he was seeing the Old Ways of the Blood, and that under the same circumstances, the Warlord Princes in Kaeleer wouldn’t hesitate to do the Queen’s will.

And he wondered for the first time if bringing the Old Ways back to Dena Nehele had been a mistake.

“One other thing.” Cassidy stared at the two younger Warlords, finally settling on the one who wore the Summer-sky Jewel. “If the girl loses her eye because of the stone you threw, you forfeit a hand. This is the Queen’s Justice.”

“Queen’s Justice.”

It was a shout, a battle cry. And Theran heard his own voice raised with the others.

No more fight in the Warlords. No more thinking they could somehow slide out from under what they had done. The predators had gathered and were held by the Queen’s leash. And by nightfall, the whole town would know for certain that these Warlord Princes belonged to Cassidy.

“Prince?” asked one of the guards who had escorted the pony cart.

“Prince Ranon is the Master of the Guard’s second-in-command,” Theran said, nodding to Ranon, acknowledging another truth.

“Escort those three back to their home,” Ranon told the guard. “Prince Archerr will assist you.”

The guard glanced at Cassidy. “I’ll inform the others of the Queen’s command. We’ll make sure these Warlords don’t come back to this part of town.”

The Warlords were led away.

“Lady?”

At the sound of Shira’s voice, they all turned.

Cassidy looked at Shira, then past her.

“The rock came damn close, but it didn’t take the girl’s eye,” Shira said. “I can’t say for sure yet that there isn’t any damage. There was lots of muck and grit in the eye, plus the cut just beside it from the rock. But I’ve got the eye cleaned out and have the first stage of healing salves on the injury. I gave her a sedative. I’ll give her mother another dose for the girl, since her face is going to hurt and sleep will help her heal. I’ll come back tomorrow morning for the next stage of the healing.”

The man stepped forward. “Lady, if we’d sold that piece in the market, we would have asked for fifty silver marks and been happy to have gotten thirty.”

“Today it was worth one hundred gold marks,” Cassidy said.

Theran felt her shudder. That was the only warning he had before her legs buckled.

He grabbed one arm. Ranon grabbed the other.

“Fetch a chair,” the man told his son.

The youth darted under the canopy and came back with a chair. They dumped Cassidy in it and pushed her head down.

“Are you hurt?” Shira asked. “Is she hurt?”

“I feel wobbly,” Cassidy said.

“Keep your head down,” Theran said, tugging the club out of her hand.

“I’ve never attacked anyone before,” Cassidy said. “Lucivar taught me how to use the club. He said I didn’t have the right temper for a knife. I worked on the moves lots of times in practice—Lucivar has a lust for practice—and I kept practicing because it was good exercise and a kind of mental discipline. But I’ve never hit anyone before and meant it. Well, my brother, Clayton, but that’s different.”

“I’m not finding anything,” Shira said. “What’s wrong with her?”

“First-fight nerves,” Ranon said. “She’s just shaky.”

“I’ve got a bit of something that might help that,” the man said.

Theran exchanged a look with Ranon. They both knew about the “bit of something” that was brewed in stills and cost a lot less than the liquor that didn’t require a man to bring his own container.

*It will fuzz her nerves,* Ranon said.

“Thanks,” Theran said as he rose to follow the man.

The flask was tucked away with the water jugs and makings for tea. The man took a cup and saucer, then filled the cup halfway from the flask. He glanced at Theran, then poured a bit more.

Theran accepted the cup and took a sip. His eyeballs sang and his teeth danced.

“Mother Night,” he wheezed.

“It’s got some bite to it,” the man agreed.

When he brought the cup over, Cassidy got a whiff of the stuff and refused to drink it until Shira snapped, “You can drink that tonic or I can make you one that tastes worse.”

She gulped it down, draining the cup.

Her throat didn’t catch on fire, and her lungs didn’t explode.

Theran wasn’t sure if he should admire her for that or be afraid of her.

“Give me a minute to check on the girl,” Shira said. “Then I’ll ride with you and help you get Lady Cassidy home.”

“Um aright,” Cassidy said.

“Uh-huh,” Theran replied as he hauled her to her feet.

Vae was stretched out on the seat, looking quite pleased with herself. Theran dropped the Green shield around the packages and said, “In the back.”

She grumbled a bit, but she stepped over the seat and walked on air while she nudged packages around until she’d made a Sceltie-sized spot. Then she lay down with a sigh.

Cassidy was more of a handful since the liquor and the fight were catching up to her and coordination became a vague concept. But he finally got her on the seat and wrapped a Green shield around her to keep her from falling out of the cart.

When he turned to find out what was keeping Shira, he saw Ranon holding the Healer back—and the landen man standing within reach.

“I’ve got something to say to you,” the man said.

Theran stiffened. “Then say it.”

“What happened today . . . What those boys did . . . That’s happened before. Not to me and mine, but to others.”

He nodded.

“Been a long time since someone looked at us and saw people instead of less.”

He nodded again, not knowing what to say or what this man wanted.

“I fought in the landen uprisings.”

“So did I,” Theran replied.

The man glanced at the cart. “If there had been someone like her around two years ago, maybe we wouldn’t have felt the need to fight. I just wanted you to know that.”

His throat closed. Something ached inside of him. He raised a hand in farewell, then climbed up to the seat. A moment later, Shira joined him, and they drove away with Ranon riding behind them as escort.

“Exciting day,” Shira said.

“Yeah.” Too many things had happened too fast. There were too many things to think about.

And he wasn’t sure how he felt about any of them.