Shadows Past: A Borderlands Novel Read online

  “Rabbit?” Jusson asked.

  Dragging in a deep breath, I opened my mouth. However, at that wonderfully opportune moment, the dinner gong sounded. Everyone turned to see Lady Margriet standing by the gong. Seeing that she had our attention, she gave her vivacious smile.

  “Please be seated. Dinner is served.”

  Nineteen

  At first I thought Jusson was going to refuse to dine in the hall—and apparently he thought so too. He had started to shake his head when it occurred to him exactly what awaited him in his chambers. And who did not. Glancing up as if he could see through the ceiling to his chambers and the ensorceled sleepers, he allowed himself to be escorted to the same place he had sat the night before, everyone else sitting as they could, no one making any effort to change their clothes. But then, there was really no one to impress; only the castle guests were in attendance. Still, with the aristos, the Turalians, royal guard, Royal Army, and Captain Kveta, the hall was more than half-full of silent, rumpled guests.

  Including me.

  To my surprise and dismay, I was seated between Lord Idwal and Lady Margriet, the two Own crowding at my back. (After a murmured conference, it was decided that Jeff, Arlis, and Ryson would sit with the rest of the extraneous royal guard at their own lower table.) To my further dismay I also sat across from Wyln and Suiden. Wyln was distracted during the meal, staring at the blackened weapons that had been moved to a small table, with two more King’s Own standing guard over them. However, Suiden divided his gaze between Munir, his daughter, and me—which made me keep my head down, communing with my plate.

  The rest of the king’s party were scattered around me, with Jusson on the other side of Lord Idwal, Thadro next to Suiden. Berenice sat on the other side of her mother and the few times I’d glance past Lady Margriet to Berenice, I mostly caught the back of her head and line of her cheek as she conversed quietly with the aristo on her other side. Once, though, I saw Berenice lifted her gaze to Princess Rajya sitting next to Suiden, the dark bruise along Berenice’s cheekbone underlining the silent stare she gave Her Highness. Unfazed, Princess Rajya stared back with a faint smile, and I thought of the quiet of battlefields and storms before all hell broke loose.

  And over by the fireplace Kveta remained on her pallet. While the she-wolf was still debilitated by her injury, her brown eyes were clear and her appetite hearty as she delicately demolished her food.

  Jusson also ate his food in short order, quickly working through the first course and shaking his head at all of the second-course dishes offered him. Lady Margriet, taking the royal hint, whispered to a servant. A few moments later, the stream of dishes from the kitchen dried up and Idwal signaled the end of the meal. I already was poised to spring up—and not just to avoid my former captain. The time I hadn’t spent worrying about fathers and daughters I’d spent trying to come up with punishments for Jeff, Arlis, and Ryson that would be heavy enough to satisfy Jusson but light enough not to leave scarring and I was anxious for Groskin to return so I could pick his brain. Judging by the shifting of the other guests, they too were ready to leave the table. But before we could make our excuses and escape, there was a chord of music and the strolling musicians, jugglers, and acrobats from the fair strolled, juggled, and tumbled into the great hall.

  “Oh, dear,” Lady Margriet said. “With all the excitement I’d forgotten that I had engaged them to play for us tonight.” She looked past me to Jusson. “If you wish, I can dismiss them, Your Majesty.”

  For one brooding moment, Jusson looked as though he was ready to assign the lot of them—along with recalcitrant heirs and other annoyances—to the darkest, deepest dungeon he had available. But Thadro had arisen to stand behind the king and he now bent and spoke in Jusson’s ear. The king then let out a long sigh.

  “No, let them continue, Lady Margriet,” he said, rising from the table. “We shall be conferring with our nobles and officers, but the rest will probably appreciate a little distraction.”

  Lady Margriet brightened. “Yes, Your Majesty,” she said as she and the rest of us rose.

  “Perhaps some refreshment, Margriet,” Lord Idwal suggested.

  Nodding, Lady Margriet turned to signal to the castle steward. But at that moment Bertram appeared, followed by servants with trays of goblets and steaming pitchers. They in turn were followed by more servants with more trays, this time containing a variety of miniature desserts. The dinner guests also brightened and hurriedly took filled goblets and as many sweets as they could politely hold. There was a moment of reverential silence as the first sip and bite were taken; then a collective sigh sounded over the music as faces turned sublime.

  “No wonder you keep him close,” Princess Rajya murmured. Controlling a start, I turned and saw that she had ditched both her father and Munir and was now standing next to me. She took a healthy draft from her goblet. “He would be exalted in my casim.”

  I took a sip of my own hot drink and tasted honey, spice, milk, and something that warmed me down to my toes. For the first time since that morning I began to relax and though my immediate problems didn’t disappear, they did fade somewhat into the distance. I ambled away from the discreet bustle of the servants clearing the tables, heading towards where other servants were setting out chairs, not caring (much) that Her Highness ambled along with me, her slippers silent against the stone floor. Jusson’s crowned chair had somehow made it down from his chambers and the king sat, gesturing Lord Idwal, Thadro, and the rest of the conferees to do the same. Suiden was not with them; while Princess Rajya had escaped, Munir had not. The captain and the wizard were talking with two of what looked like senior Turalian soldiers flanking them. The wizard’s face was earnest as he spoke while Suiden’s expression remained bland—to the uninitiated. To one who’d served under him for five years, it was full of peril and I decided that, mellow-making drink or not, the farther away from them both, the better.

  Seeing the direction of my gaze, Princess Rajya gave a soft laugh. “I judged it wise to give them space.”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” I said.

  Wyln was another one not with the king. The enchanter was talking to Kveta over at the fireplace, maybe trying to get information on talent workers in the crew of the m’Aurflagrare. On the other side of the hall, Lady Margriet and Berenice were standing together, the vivacious smile gone from Lady Margriet’s face as she spoke to her daughter. As I watched, Her Ladyship reached out and gently grasped Berenice’s chin, forcing her daughter to look at her. Thinking that was another conversation I’d no desire to be a part of, I turned at a slight commotion at the entrance to the hall and saw Groskin, the armsmen captain Remke, and several troopers and aristos’ armsmen enter. Captain Remke immediately joined his lord at Jusson’s klatch. Groskin, though, stopped as his gaze fell on Jeff, Ryson, and Arlis still under guard. Frowning, he started towards them but was intercepted by an Own who directed him also towards the king’s conference. Those speaking immediately stopped, their gazes fixed on Groskin and Remke. But apparently they had as much success searching the town and harbor as we had in the castle and environs as Groskin shook his head. Jusson’s expression darkened.

  “I wish there was someplace private to converse without a thousand ears listening,” Princess Rajya said, reclaiming my attention.

  “You might have to fight His Majesty,” I said, “but I’m sure Lady Margriet could show you and Suiden a place to talk—”

  “I don’t think my father would agree either,” Princess Rajya said, her mouth wry. “I couldn’t have made a bigger mess of that if I tried. As I’ve also misstepped with you.”

  I made a noncommittal noise, my gaze returning to Jusson. The king was now listening to his nobles speak; however, whatever they were saying wasn’t giving him any joy either, and the lines that showed up after Cais’ disappearance were very much in evidence. They didn’t make him look old—or even look his age. What they did do was give him a dark and forbidding cast, reminding me forcibly of a triptyc
h I’d once seen of a long ago dark elf high king, whose reign was still talked about in whispers. His vicinity was another place I least wanted to be, but I figured it would be worse if I stayed away. Chugging the last of my drink for courage, I started his way.

  Princess Rajya changed directions with me, amusement flashing over her face. “No chivalrous protestations of how I’m being too hard on myself? That I was, in fact, the essence of subtlety and eloquence?”

  I dragged my mind back to the princess. “I think you know yourself best, Your Highness,” I said.

  Princess Rajya’s smile changed, becoming more real. “You are being wasted on this provincial place, Sro Rabbit. You would more than hold your own in His Glory’s court.” Finishing her own goblet, she set it on a passing servant’s tray and snagged another one for herself. “In fact, that’s why I would like to find a private place. I would like to tell you more about my home and family, and to talk about yours. I heard you were tutored by a dragon?”

  “Not exactly, Your Highness,” I said. “Our ma and da saw to our schooling, with Brother Paedrig picking up the slack. Though Dragoness Moraina did teach me chess.”

  “You played chess with a dragon?” Princess Rajya asked, her voice careful.

  “Well, mostly I lost to honored Moraina,” I said, grinning. I was suddenly homesick for the dragoness’ lair and the sight of her toothy smile as she arranged the board, her talons clicking against the pawns, rooks, and other pieces carved of semiprecious stone as she spoke of beginnings and endings, and how the latter were created in the former.

  Princess Rajya drew in a breath and let it out. “Ah,” she said softly. “To be dragon-taught. You know, m’Kyri Draconi once ruled Tural.”

  “Dragon lords, Your Highness?” I guessed.

  “Yes,” Princess Rajya said. “It was a golden age for us, full of discovery and innovation, full of poetry and music and art—full of life. But one day m’Kyri left and in their leaving came the wars and power struggles. Now, instead of poetry, instead of art, we have carpets and conquest. I truly think that much of our ‘expansion’ is us trying to find our lords again—” She broke off, frowning.

  “There are dragons in the Border,” I began, then stopped myself, glancing over my shoulder at Wyln and Kveta. Fortunately in the din the enchanter and wolf didn’t hear me point the Turals at the Border in their quest to find their missing overlords.

  “Though noble, they’re not the same,” Princess Rajya said. “M’Kyri were shape-shifters, able to change from dragon to man—”

  It was Her Highness’ turn to break off again, this time resting a red-tipped finger across her lips.

  “Like your father?” I asked anyway. “Hlafakyri i’alDraconi you called him, right? What is he supposed to be? King of these dragon lords? Is that why you all of a sudden want him back? So he can usher in another golden age?”

  “Our reasons are varied,” Princess Rajya said, her voice cool.

  “Maybe so,” I said, shrugging. “But while I hold both honored Moraina and Captain Suiden in very high esteem, dragons do not make good rulers. Excellent advisers, yes. Kings and emperors, no.”

  “That is your opinion,” Princess Rajya said, her voice colder.

  “I grew up with them, Your Highness,” I said. “They do not think like us. Their tempers, their passions, their attachments, their worldview are all very different.” Beginning with the fact that they were at the top of the food chain and were determined to stay there. “Most are amused or bored by us and don’t bother. Dragoness Moraina does involve herself in the politics and affairs of the Weald and beyond, but even she is unpredictable.”

  “My father is not inconsistent, nor capricious,” Princess Rajya said, her voice full of frost.

  “That’s not what I meant,” I said. “Dragons are incredibly consistent. They are true to themselves, to what they believe, and to what they hold dear much more than we can ever be. It’s we who don’t understand them.” I shrugged again. “Poke a hornet’s nest with a stick and you know what will happen. Poke a dragon, though, and you have a cosmos full of possible reactions, all of which would make perfect sense to the dragon. Thing is, you couldn’t predict which one it would be.” I gave a crooked smile. “Imagine having someone like that on the Sun Throne, with all the might, power, and reach of the Empire.”

  Princess Rajya was silent, the air crackling with ice around her.

  “You’re right,” I said despite the deep freeze. “The captain is consistent and constant too. But though he’s a grown man, he’s also a very young dragon.” Especially as dragons lived well into their second millennium, sometimes even reaching a third. “As his second nature matures, he will become more—” I groped for a word. “Other, I suppose.”

  Princess Rajya remained silent a couple of moments, then gave a slight bow. “We will talk later.” With a whisper of her slippers, she was gone.

  Thinking that went as well as her offer of various siblings had done with me, I turned and watched Princess Rajya work her way to her father. Munir must’ve gone elsewhere, for Suiden was alone with the Turalian soldiers, also watching as his daughter approached. Then he shifted his emerald green blazing dragon gaze to me and I found myself taking a step back. Resemblances to tryptychs aside, safety lay with the king, and I quickly started that way again—only to run into Lord Idwal’s forest green stare. I faltered for a step or two, then came to a halt.

  “Hard to know which way to turn, isn’t it?” a voice said in my ear, and I shifted to see Munir standing by my side.

  Great. First Her Highness and now the wizard. I bowed politely. “I give you good evening, Lord Munir.”

  Munir grinned. “Ah, so polite. It is gratifying to see young ones minding their manners. Even as their world is turning on its ear.”

  “Yes, my lord,” I said, smiling back. “My ma taught me to always show the graybeards proper respect.”

  Munir’s eyes began to gleam just as Princess Rajya’s had a very short while ago. “Very good, tiro. Very good, indeed. We really must sit down and talk.”

  Having avoided Princess Rajya’s suggested private twosome, I had no intention of being snagged by Munir. About to use Jusson as a very real and present danger, I glanced over at the king. But just then a gaggle of acrobats swept between us. They and the jugglers and musicians were still working the hall. They were very good, the musicians providing music for the juggling and tumbling, and launching into slightly ribald songs about bold damsels and chance-met travelers when the others of the troupe rested. Waiting impatiently as the acrobats were finishing a complicated set of tumbles, jumps, and contortions, I caught sight of someone with dark clothes and smooth, pale skin moving behind them. Then the crowd shifted again and he was gone from view.

  “In fact, if you have time now—”

  “I beg pardon, Lord Munir,” I said absently, cutting the wizard off. “I see someone I have to talk to.”

  Setting down my goblet, I plunged into the crowd. I once more caught a glimpse of the pale man but as I approached, he moved away, his back towards me as he wove through guests and servants, heading for a side door. I picked up my pace but he disappeared through it before I could reach him. I slowed, then came to a halt at the door and had started to peer inside, when I became aware of someone behind me. Several someones. Not only had my new guards followed me, but also a good handful of my former troop mates and other King’s Own. Apparently Jeff and Arlis’ plight after losing me had made an impression.

  “Lieutenant?” one of the Own asked.

  “There’s this person I keep seeing,” I said as I stepped inside a corridor, small and dim.

  “Perhaps a servant, sir?” another Own suggested, his voice reasonable. “This is a service corridor.”

  He was probably right. My face flushing slightly, I had started back out when I caught movement towards the end of the hall. Whoever it was stood in shadow, his clothes blending into the darkness, his face a pale blur. He held his hand up, waving it
back and forth, and it took a moment for me to realize that he was holding something that was very familiar.

  It was my feather that I’d lost in the anvea wind-storm.

  I immediately took off running, the bootsteps of the others sounding behind me. The dark figure at the end waited until I was about halfway towards him, before he moved, seeming to fade into the shadows. However, when I reached the end of the corridor, I discovered that it continued at a right angle. Stopping and peering around the corner, I saw the pale man standing a ways down it, his face still a blur. As soon as he saw me, he lifted up the feather again.

  “Hell’s bells,” a Mountain Patroller whispered.

  “Yeah,” another agreed. “Maybe we should go get someone.”

  I glanced at a King’s Own. “Go tell Thadro or Suiden.”

  As the guard ran back to the hall, the pale man took a step backwards. I followed a step, then stopped. He didn’t move. I moved forward another step. He remained still. I took a third step, and he turned and ran, and I took off once again after him.

  It was reminiscent of the wild run I did in Freston. But instead of racing horses through alleys and back gardens, we ran through that hallway, and then another, and another, crossing other corridors, going up stairs, down stairs, around corners, with the pale man always just ahead, his steps light and damn near soundless, his form fading in and out of the shadows. Turning one more corner, we burst out onto the same broad walk where first Berenice and then the princess and I had dallied. Crossing the paving stones, he leapt up onto the parapet and stopped, perfectly balanced. Barely visible in the thin moonlight, he turned to face me and once more held the feather up.