Shadows Past: A Borderlands Novel Read online

  “You’re much too lenient, Your Majesty,” Princess Rajya said, noticing the changing of the guard. “My guards’ lives would be immediately forfeit if they had lost such an important charge. And if said charge was attacked, then their deaths would be talked about for all time.” She turned her head to Mearden. “As would anyone else who was involved.”

  Berenice’s dark eyes reflected the flames in the fireplace. “You really don’t want to go there, Your Highness—”

  “Berenice,” Idwal said. “Not now.”

  Jusson ignored both father and daughter. “We trust that we know how to handle the affairs of our cousin and heir, Your Highness,” he said to Princess Rajya. Relieved of his armor, he went over to the table and picked up a blackened blade. “And the question of who is involved is wide open as magic was used.”

  Worry spread to Idwal’s, Lady Margriet’s, and Berenice’s faces. Princess Rajya, however, let out a bright laugh with a sharp edge. “Like a sage’s riddle, the answer is contained in your question, Your Majesty,” she said. She waved a hand, the red on her fingernails flashing in the candlelight as she indicated the carved white stag over the hall fireplace. “This entire casim reeks of wizardry!”

  Berenice moved as if she were going to go bump toes with Princess Rajya, but Idwal reached her first, gripping her arm to hold her still. “Whatever ‘wizardry’ is contained in my House, it does not lend itself to ambushing guests, Your Highness,” Idwal said. “Trust me, it does not.”

  “Ha!” began Princess Rajya. “This whole guesting has been a farce—”

  “Well, that’s certainly true,” Berenice said.

  “Glad you admitted it,” Princess Rajya shot back.

  “Your Highness,” Munir murmured, and the princess fell silent, her eyes full of mockery. Suiden, standing with Wyln as they both examined the sword Wyln held, turned and gave a hard look at his daughter and then a longer one at Munir. The wizard didn’t notice.

  “Is this ‘magical’ ambush why Sro Rabbit left with four of the major facets but returned with none, Your Majesty?” Munir asked, staring at the empty space over my shoulders.

  “We don’t know,” Jusson said, putting down the sword. “We’re not a mage. But for whatever reason when Lord Rabbit was attacked, they disappeared—just like our captain, our servants, and the teacher of our cousin.”

  Feeling warm in the heat flowing out of the massive fireplace, I had tugged off my gloves and started to remove my cloak, but at Jusson’s words I stopped, startled at the notion that my aspects had also been abducted—and wondering if I hadn’t noticed because I’d been blocked after all. I cautiously reached out and to my relief, I once more felt their presence, air sending a faint reverberation through my bones. I turned, expecting to see them ranged behind me. Nothing was there.

  “I see,” Munir said. “Have you questioned the attackers, Your Majesty?”

  “No,” Jusson said. Picking up the dagger, he made a couple of very competent passes with it. “We didn’t find any.”

  “I don’t understand,” Princess Rajya said, leaving off accusing Mearden. She looked at me, noting the fact that I was without mark or scratch. “Did you fight them off, Your Majesty?”

  “No,” Jusson said again before I could speak. “The fight was over and Rabbit was already on his way back to the castle when we met him.” He saw the questions forming on everyone’s faces. “Apparently it was the trees that fought them off.”

  Berenice’s and Lady Margriet’s worried expressions changed to shock. “Trees?” Berenice whispered. “How could that be?” She cast an involuntary glance at the windows as all around the hall servants and ambulatory guests made warding signs against evil.

  “The trees,” Idwal repeated, his own face blank. “They defended Lord Rabbit?”

  “But trees don’t fight,” Princess Rajya said. “Do they?”

  “They did in our last war with the Border,” Jusson said. “Helped take apart what little remained of our army after the Faena were through with it—” He stopped, the lines on his face deepening as he realized what he’d admitted in front of the Turals.

  “I don’t think the events of an old war fought in our grandfathers’ time matter much now, sire,” an aristo said.

  “Not everyone’s grandfathers,” Munir said before Jusson could respond. “Right, Sro Wyln?”

  “Yes, I fought in the last war,” Wyln said absently. Setting down the one sword, he picked up the other. “I fought in all the wars started by the human kingdom. What of it?”

  It was Jusson’s turn to speak before Munir could respond. “Nothing. None of it has anything to do with what’s happening here.” He put the knife back on the table. “Right now, we’re more interested in the failed attack. It seems that your Watcher is more than a story, Mearden.”

  “I—” Lord Idwal ran a shaking hand over his face. “So it seems, Your Majesty.”

  “Of course, the question about who the attackers were does remain,” Jusson said. “Despite sages’ riddles.”

  “The Svlet sailors seemed hostile towards ibn Chause, Your Majesty,” an aristo offered.

  “So they did,” Jusson agreed. “But they’re locked in the castle dungeon, and on the off chance that a few did evade Mearden’s excellent captain, how did they know where to find Rabbit? It had to be someone who not only knew that Rabbit was out searching, but also knew where he was searching.”

  Princess Rajya stiffened at all the side glances that came her way. “Why on earth would I try to kill someone I’d just proposed a marriage alliance to?”

  “Perhaps it’s someone who doesn’t wish to see you married?” another aristo suggested.

  There was a moment of silence as eyes now slid to Berenice.

  “That would explain the lack of bodies,” Princess Rajya murmured. “People familiar with the forest were able to drag them off.”

  “No,” Berenice said. She impatiently waved away Princess Rajya’s accusation. “We would not poison our House by dealing such treachery and betrayal.”

  “Truth, Your Majesty,” Lord Idwal said. “It would destroy our very foundation.”

  “It would certainly destroy something,” Jusson said. “In any event, the bodies weren’t dragged off, as far as we could tell. Granted, night had fallen by the time we arrived and morning may tell a different tale, but from what we could see, there wasn’t any trail leading to or from the ambush site—”

  “Perhaps the lack was because the attackers were phantasms,” Wyln said, looking up from the blackened sword.

  There was another, longer pause. Kveta, still lying on her pallet, raised her head to stare at the enchanter.

  “It is amazing how you always manage to come up with the most worrisome scenarios, Lord Wyln,” Jusson said into the quiet. “First Damned Ones in Freston and now murderous ghosts wielding knives, swords, and pikes.”

  “Can ‘phantasms’ carry swords and knives?” Thadro asked carefully.

  Wyln flipped the sword over to show a marking at the blade’s base near the hilt that was camouflaged by the blackening. “A summoning rune,” the enchanter said, tapping it with one slender finger. “Used by a competent earth or air master, it can summon all sorts of things, including specters that interact with the physical world with ease.”

  Jusson looked down at the dagger in his hand and, finding the same rune, gently put it back on the table.

  “But why would anyone go through the trouble of summoning phantom attackers, when flesh and blood would work just as well?” Lord Idwal asked, frowning.

  “Perhaps whoever it was didn’t have access to hired men,” Wyln said. He turned his head, staring hard at Munir. “Or the men he had access to were easily recognizable. Could that not be the case, battle mage?”

  I recalled the very brief glimpse I got of the ambushers’ faces before my fire sphere winked out. “They weren’t Turalians, honored cyhn,” I began.

  “Of course they weren’t,” Munir said. “As Her Highness has s
aid, why would I harm a potential member of the amir’s casim? Do not point the finger at me, Enchanter. For all my nom’clatura, I am human, unlike you, and unlike you I have no axe to grind against either this kingdom or Sro Rabbit’s forbearers. And while I might have served as a wizard of the Army of the Sun, I’m not the only one who has gone to war at the orders of his Abbe. From what I’ve heard, some of the things you have done in the last war between the Border and Iversterre are now the songs of troubadours.”

  Wyln shrugged. “What foreign bards choose to sing about does not concern me. However, oaths and family are of paramount importance; none of His Grace Loran’s line would break faith by harming one we have pledged ourselves to. Nor would we try to destroy our cyhn and heirs because we find them speaking inconvenient truths about concubines and other leeches.”

  “His Grace’s line?” Munir repeated, his face affable, his own dark eyes flashing. “You mean the one who lost one realm but is trying to gain another by unchallenged declarations and forced adoptions of grown men?”

  “While interesting,” Jusson said, leaning against the table full of runic weapons, “this does not get us any closer to who attacked Rabbit and, just as important, where our missing are.”

  Both Munir and Wyln slew around to the king. Munir recovered first, sweeping an arm-waving bow at Jusson.

  “My humblest apologies, Your Majesty,” he said, coming up for air. “In any case, Sro Wyln’s speculations are moot as my major facet is neither air nor earth—”

  “Who said you yourself did it?” Wyln asked. “I know of at least two competent air mages who are on your ship—and I’m sure you’ve learned how to delegate the more unpleasant tasks.”

  “Caefen Jasry would not allow her ship’s forecasters to be used for court purposes, Sro Wyln,” Suiden said, his gaze still on Munir.

  “Perhaps not, Your Highness,” Wyln said. “But has she said that those two were the only workers of the talent on board?”

  Suiden dragged in a breath and let it out. “No,” he said. “No, she has not—”

  “Our people have nothing to do with the attack on Sro Rabbit!” Princess Rajya said, glaring at Wyln. “Stop trying to shift the blame on us!”

  “Our cousin has said that his attackers did not look to be Turalian, Lord Wyln,” Jusson said, his voice mild.

  “They did not, Your Majesty,” I said.

  “The Empire of the Sun is wide and encompasses many peoples, Iver’son,” Wyln began.

  “Not from the Empire either, honored cyhn,” I said. “They were from a much more northern clime with fair skin and hair.”

  “Like Iversterre?” Princess Rajya asked. “Or even perhaps from the Border?”

  Kveta gave a low growl as her ears went back against her skull, but Jusson ignored the princess.

  “According to you, Lord Wyln,” Jusson said, “the attackers might not have been from any worldly kingdom at all—”

  “They looked pretty much of this world to me, Your Majesty,” I said, beating Wyln. I thought back to the site of the ambush and the dull thuds of flesh being hit. “They screamed like they were too.”

  “Screamed?” Lady Margriet asked, her voice faint. Lord Idwal went to her, placing his arm around her.

  “I see,” Jusson said. “Still, there’s the fact that no one was found—”

  “Remember the runes, Iver’son,” Wyln said. “Corporeal or not, the ambushers could’ve been sent and then resummoned to whoever sent them.”

  “A foul deed done in a foul place!” Princess Rajya said. Moving to Suiden, she tugged on his sleeve. “This wicked casim is not for you. Come home, Father. Come home and take your rightful place—”

  “Rightful place, Daughter?” Suiden asked, his hand covering hers, stilling it. “And what is that?”

  “You are crown prince—”

  “The amir has other sisters who have sons,” Suiden said. “Let His Glory choose one of them.”

  “No!” Princess Rajya’s other hand came up to clutch at her father’s arm. “There is no other! Hlafakyri i’alDraconi—”

  “Your Highness,” Munir said again, his gaze on those frowning at the unfamiliar terms. But it was too late.

  “Hlafakyri i’alDraconi?” Berenice asked.

  “Dragon King,” Jusson said.

  “A ceremonial title,” Munir said smoothly.

  “Is it?” Jusson asked. “Well, ceremonial or not, Suiden is mine and I will consider any attempt to remove him from me an act of war.”

  “And keeping the crown prince of Tural from his people is not an act of aggression?” Munir asked, moving to stand with Her Highness, both of them bracketing Suiden.

  “His people?” Jusson asked back. “Not his uncle the amir’s?”

  “As with any ruler, the amir is the people of Tural,” Munir began.

  “But His Glory is not the people of Iversterre, and it was to the throne of this kingdom that Suiden made his oaths,” Jusson said. “Are we correct, Captain Prince?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Suiden said. “To the throne and to yourself.” He removed his arm from his daughter’s clutch and captured both her hands in one of his, holding them in a gentle but firm grip. “You say you want me to come home, Daughter. But I am home and have been for the last twenty years. I am not going back to Tural. Ever.”

  “There are older oaths, Father,” Princess Rajya said. “Older than any given to any king, human, elf, or otherwise. Older than any given to even the amir. Nocerei. Hlafakyri i’alDraconi. Your place is with your people, nowhere else. If you want close ties to Iversterre, it can be arranged. Have I not made an offer for the boy? If I’m not suitable, you have other daughters. Even a son, if Sro Rabbit is so inclined—”

  There was a brief burst of incredulous laughter from my former troopmates, while Berenice’s merry smile flashed.

  “Oh?” she murmured. “What did happen last night, my lord?”

  “Nothing.” I saw Berenice’s merriment increase. “And I’m not inclined at all.”

  “Why is Adil being offered?” Suiden asked, ignoring my denials.

  Her hands still held in Suiden’s, Princess Rajya looked disconcerted. “No special reason, Father—”

  “Never mind your son, Your Highness,” Lord Idwal said, his arm dropping from his wife as he frowned. “I want to know about last night.”

  “Older oaths than the amir’s, Your Highness?” Jusson asked at the same time, his voice rising a bit as he spoke over Idwal. “Does His Glory know that?”

  Princess Rajya turned her disconcerted look on the king. “His Glory is well aware of what we’re doing—”

  “Why don’t I believe that?” Berenice said, her merry smile turning into something sharper and harder.

  “Believe as you will,” Princess Rajya said, making a recovery. “But I’m not in the habit of telling falsehoods—”

  “Now, that I truly don’t believe, Ambassador,” Berenice said.

  “—unlike some,” Princess Rajya said. Her smile was just as sharp. “Tell me, did you get all your tasks done last night?”

  Lord Idwal’s frown changed. “Berenice?”

  “I was just as productive as you apparently were, Your Highness,” Berenice said. Her wicked eyes found me. “Right, Lord Rabbit?”

  “Daughter?” Suiden asked, his gaze also going to me.

  “Uhm,” I said, profound as I tugged on my suddenly tight collar.

  “All this is interesting, but again has nothing to do with the issues at hand,” Jusson said.

  “Perhaps if you were to get rid of the sackcloth dresses you’d have more success,” Princess Rajya suggested, ignoring the king.

  “Why?” Berenice asked. “I am the only child of a very prosperous lord of the realm—”

  “Only a middling House, though,” an aristo chimed in.

  “—and I can dress the way I want to.”

  “You’re not fooling anyone,” Princess Rajya said.

  “What?” Jusson asked, distr
acted.

  “Use your eyes, Your Majesty,” Princess Rajya said. “Sra Berenice is not the frump she seems.”

  “While you’re exactly as you seem,” Berenice said.

  “If he could be taken away, then you didn’t really have him to begin with,” Princess Rajya said.

  “What the pox-rotted hell are you talking about?” Jusson asked, distracted more.

  “I don’t know, Your Majesty, but I will definitely find out,” Idwal said.

  “Yes,” Suiden said. He glanced over where Ryson and my personal guards were under … well, guard.

  “You were with Lieutenant Rabbit last night, Trooper Ryson?”

  Ryson cast me a wild glance as he snapped to attention. “Sir!”

  “What happened?” Suiden asked.

  “Nothing happened, sir,” I said.

  “Sir, nothing of importance, sir!” Ryson said at the same time.

  “ ‘Nothing of importance’?” Jusson asked, thoroughly caught up, his gaze going from Ryson to me. “Did you leave something out of your recounting last night, Cousin?”

  Munir gave a soft chuckle. “Perhaps the ambushers were really fathers and brothers coming to exact an accounting with Sro Rabbit.”

  Wyln glanced down at the rune on the blackened sword he still held. “Unlikely,” he said, his face serious. “They would’ve had to have been talent wielders.”

  “Didn’t I hear that Iversterre has rediscovered wizardry?” Munir asked.

  Wyln stared at Munir, then turned that stare on me. “Hmm.”

  “No,” I said. “They were not anyone’s family members. And I didn’t leave anything out, Your Majesty, because nothing happened.”

  “Describe ‘nothing,’ Lieutenant,” Suiden said.

  “And exactly where and when did this nothing happen?” Idwal asked. “And why is my daughter involved in it?”

  Wondering how the hell we got from ambushments and world politics to my evening on the broad walk last night, I scrubbed my hand against my tabard and cast a glance at Berenice and Princess Rajya. Her Highness looked her usual delicately exotic self, her smooth dark skin and near black eyes reflecting the flames from the fireplace. And while Berenice’s ugly dress was definitely worse for wear, she herself was magnificent, the hair curling out of her snood emphasizing her large eyes and graceful neck, her ugly dress emphasizing her elegant spine and incredible figure. Even the bruise on her cheek didn’t distract but gave her a fierce look. Once more feeling surrounded, I waited a moment to see if either would explain her part in the goings-on but they remained silent, watching me with near identical expressions of deep interest on their faces.