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"I've done nothing wrong!"
"You were here when Neris first learned the truth. You knew what Belagren was up to. And you did nothing to stop her. Nothing to stop Marqel, either.""I tried," Rudi a.s.sured him. "Not at first, I'll admit. But I tried to throw doubt on Marqel's prophecies. Before then... well, I was much younger and much less cynical when Belagren first started us on this path."
"You're fortunate you know these ruins better than anyone else on Ranadon," Dirk informed him.
"That makes you more use to me alive than dead."
The Shadowdancer seemed genuinely surprised. "And I appreciate the sentiment, my lord, more than you can imagine. But to turn these ruins from a holy place into an archaeological dig would be heresy."
"I'm the Lord of the Suns, Rudi. My definition of heresy is the only one that matters, and I say we have an obligation to find out everything we can about the people who once lived here." He studied the Shadowdancer curiously for a moment. "Of course, if you intend to remain here in charge of the excavations, then you'd better have a moment of divine clarity pretty d.a.m.n quick and decide you'd rather be a Sundancer again. The Shadowdancers are to be disbanded and anybody who insists on perpetrating their lies will be declared a heretic."
Rudi smiled. "I feel the presence of the G.o.ddess calling me to my new vocation even as we speak, my lord."
"I thought you might," Dirk agreed wryly.
Rudi studied him thoughtfully for a moment in the torchlight. "You know, when I came back to Omaxin with Belagren to find you'd opened the Labyrinth, I had a feeling then, you'd end up changing everything."
"I've only just begun," Dirk warned. And then explicably, he decided to fix something else that had always grated on his nerves. "And will you stop calling it a labyrinth, Rudi? It's a d.a.m.ned tunnel, that's all. The sooner we start demystifying this place, the better."
"And so we step out of the Age of Light and into the Age of Enlightenment," Rudi remarked.
Dirk hadn't thought about it like that. It sounded rather grand.
Almost as if it was worth the lives it had cost to achieve it.
Chapter 90.
They burned Kirsh's body on Lake Ruska, the pyre floating out across the blood-stained water in the dim red light of the first sun. Marqel lay beside her lover, a gesture Jacinta thought both touching and foolish. Dirk should have tossed her into a shallow unmarked grave. The world needed to forget Marqel almost as badly as it needed to forget Belagren.
He stood by the water's edge for a long while, watching the pyre float on the lake, still clutching the torch he had used to set it alight. Jacinta ached for him. Dirk may seem a tower of implacable strength to everyone else, but she knew he was hurting. She knew he blamed himself for Kirsh's death, knew he was grieving for his brother. But there was nothing she could do to console him. Nor was it her place to try.
Dirk had already emptied Omaxin of many of the troops Antonov had gathered, along with those he had brought with him to confront Kirsh. There were only a few dozen of them left now. Jacinta suspected Dirk had deliberately delayed the funeral until most of them were gone. Watching Kirsh's pyre burn was heartbreaking, even for Jacinta, who had never really liked him much. For the men whowould have willingly followed Kirshov Latanya to war, the specter was just too disturbing to risk letting them witness it.
There were quite a few Shadowdancers still in Omaxin, but not a red robe in sight. Dirk had given them a clear choice. Change their allegiance to the Sundancers and stay here to continue studying the ruins, or go back to Avacas in chains as condemned heretics. Not one of them had opted for the latter.
They had shed their robes and gone back to doing exactly what they were doing before Dirk arrived: trying to puzzle out the writings in the cavern at the end of the Labyrinth... or rather the tunnel, she corrected absently. Dirk got quite annoyed if anybody called it the Labyrinth.
The smoke from the pyre hung over the water in the still air. The evening was clear, the red sky vast and b.l.o.o.d.y; a fitting backdrop for the death of a prince. Behind Jacinta stood a small guard wearing the black and green livery of Bryton and the reason she was dressed in her riding habit rather than mourning clothes. Her father had sent an armed guard to escort her home.
Her father's men had arrived a few days after the surrender bearing a very abrupt and annoyed note from her parents and a rather more sympathetic letter from Alenor. Both letters reminded her of the same thing. She had a duty she had managed to avoid until now. The time for prevaricating was over.
Dhevyn was free and needed all the stability the union of the Seranov and D'Orlon houses would bring.
Raban Seranov was waiting for her. The wedding was arranged and set for just over two months from now. She dreaded the future before her, but knew her duty to Dhevyn. She could argue with her mother, but not her queen.
Jacinta would leave as soon as the funeral was over.
She had learned something recently that made her feel older for owning the wisdom. The greater good sometimes came at a high personal cost. She needed only to look at Dirk to remind her of that.
After a few more moments of hushed reverence, Dirk turned and headed back toward her. The gathered troops began to disperse, although Jacinta did not move. She wanted to say good-bye.
Dirk handed the torch to one of his captains and walked up the slope a little farther before he bowed politely to her.
"My lady."
"My lord."
"You're all set to leave then?"
She nodded. "I think it's best."
"You'll give my regards to your parents? And my apologies for asking you to undertake the duties that kept you away from them for so long?"
"Of course."
He was saying that for the benefit of her escort. Always the politician, aren't you, Dirk? She was grateful, but a little hurt.
"Will I see you in Avacas before I sail for Dhevyn, my lord?"
"Probably not," he told her. "There's a great deal more to do here before I leave. And I have to escort Rees's body back to Elcast. Faralan is going to need some help sorting out his affairs. Besides, I think Misha might appreciate not having me around for a while. Tia certainly will."
"Shall I give the queen a message from you?"
"Give her my love," Dirk said. "And tell her I said thank you."
"For what?""For trusting me."
Jacinta nodded. "I'll make certain she knows how much you appreciate her support."
"And you can tell her Alexin is no longer considered a heretic by the Church. As to whether or not her relations.h.i.+p with him still const.i.tutes treason, that will be up to her to decide since now she's a queen in her own right."
"I can't imagine her decision will be anything less than favorable for Alexin."
He nodded in agreement. "Your new father-in-law will be pleased by that news."
"I'm sure he will be," she agreed. "He's very fond of both his sons."
An uncomfortable silence fell between them.
"I would ask another favor of you, my lady."
"I'm yours to command, my lord," she announced formally, shattered by the cold formality of their parting.
"I would ask you take care of Lady Lexie and her daughter, Mellie."
"I give you my word they will both be accorded the full respect and privilege their rank deserves,"
she a.s.sured him.
"And give Mellie my love, too," he asked. "Tell her I'll try to get to Kalarada to see her as soon as I can."
"I'm sure she'll anxiously await your arrival, my lord."
"You'll like Mellie," he added, as if he was looking for a reason to drag out their conversation. "And she'll need friends at court."
"Then I will be certain she has them," Jacinta promised. "Although I will be in Nova for much of the time, I fear. But she and Alenor are not so far apart in age. I'm sure they'll become firm friends."
Dirk smiled. "Perhaps, once you're the d.u.c.h.ess of Grannon Rock, they'll finally let you into the university."
"I'm not sure what my husband will have to say about that."
"I'm quite certain you could persuade Raban to agree to anything, my lady."
"You vastly overestimate my powers of persuasion, I fear." If they were any good at all, I wouldn't be leaving.
He hesitated for a moment and then bowed politely. "I wish you well, my lady. I hope you'll be content."
Content, he said, not happy. At least he hadn't been so cruel as to suggest that.
"I'm sure I'll come to terms with my fate in time," she agreed. "As you seem to have done."
"Good-bye, Jacinta."
She couldn't bear to return his farewell. Jacinta curtsied as elegantly as she could manage on the loose slope. He stood there watching as she turned and walked up toward her waiting horse and the rest of the escort of Senetian troops Dirk had provided for her journey back to Avacas.
No sooner had she mounted than he turned and strode back toward the ruins. She couldn't tell if it was because he couldn't bear to watch her go, or if he was just too busy to care.
Chapter 91
Alenor waited for Jacinta when she returned from Senet in the throne room of Kalarada Palace, the first time she'd ever felt the need to meet with her cousin in formal surroundings. But with Lady Sofia waiting in Jacinta's rooms, her own mother starting to develop grandiose ideas about taking back her throne and everything else that had happened since the day of the eclipse, she clung to whatever symbols of her position she could claim.
The Queen of Dhevyn was feeling the need for a little protocol.
Jacinta seemed a little surprised by the formality when she was escorted into the queen's presence by Dimitri Bayel. Alenor sat on the Eagle Throne, the heavy crown giving her a headache, her expression determinedly neutral. It was a form of protection. She hoped the weight of her crown would force down the other emotions that she was afraid might undo her perfect imitation of a reasonable and controlled monarch.
"Welcome home, Lady Jacinta," she said when her cousin stopped before the throne and curtsied politely. "I trust your journey from Avacas was not too rough?"
"No, your majesty," Jacinta replied, looking a little puzzled by Alenor's stiff tone. "The seas were quite smooth for this time of year."
"You bring us news, I take it?"
Jacinta glanced around at the courtiers surrounding the queen. There were no Senetians left in Alenor's court, but Rainan was standing just behind the throne on Alenor's left and several other underlings were hovering about the bright, sun-warmed chamber, listening to every word.
"Perhaps you'd prefer to hear my news in private, your majesty," Jacinta suggested.
"I already know of the death of Prince Kirshov," Alenor said, a little amazed that she was able to say it and sound so calm. Although she didn't know the details, the news had rocked her to the core.
Grief mixed with relief and a rather uncomfortable dose of guilt warred for dominance in her heart. In truth, if anybody had asked her what she was feeling, she really couldn't have given him an answer.
"The Lion of Senet sent a messenger to inform us of the outcome of the... troubles... in Omaxin,"
Rainan informed Jacinta before Alenor could. "I hear the High Priestess is dead, too."
"Yes, your highness," Jacinta confirmed warily. "She is."
"Did Dirk Provin kill her?"
Jacinta glanced at the others in the hall pointedly before replying. "No, your highness. Dirk didn't kill her. Kirsh did."
Alenor felt the blood drain from her face and realized what a fool she was for thinking this could be dealt with in an open forum. She should never have tried to impress anybody, least of all her cousin and closest friend, by trying to act like a queen. Or give her mother a chance to act like she was back at the helm.
"Leave us!" she announced, rising to her feet.
"Alenor," her mother began. "Perhaps you should..."
"I said leave us!" Alenor repeated forcefully.
Rainan stared at her, obviously put out by Alenor's abrupt dismissal of the court, but she nodded silently and turned on her heel, followed by Dimitri and the rest of Alenor's attendants. Jacinta watchedthem leave curiously, turning to Alenor when the last of them closed the door behind them.
"What was all that about?"
Alenor sighed heavily and stepped down from the podium. "It was a mistake. Ever since we got the word about the Senetians pulling out of Dhevyn, my mother has been making noises about resuming the throne." Alenor sat herself down on the steps leading up to the dais and rested her chin in her hands.
"Am I a bad person, Jacinta, for not wanting to let her have her old job back?"
"Not if you think you're doing a better job."
Alenor lifted the heavy crown from her head and placed it on the step beside her. "What really happened in Omaxin?"
Her cousin sat next to her on the step, silent for a moment, choosing her words carefully. "There was a battle. A very short, sharp and brutal one. I don't think Kirsh expected to come out of it alive. Or wanted to. Rees Provin died in the same charge. It wasn't until later they found Marqel. Dirk thinks Kirsh killed her just before he attacked. He was fairly certain Marqel murdered Antonov, too, although Kirsh wouldn't believe it when Dirk tried to negotiate with him."
Alenor was silent, wondering what strange set of circ.u.mstances would make Kirsh kill the woman he loved. And he had loved her. Blindly and foolishly, perhaps, but he had loved Marqel the way Alenor always wanted to be loved by him. Maybe, in hindsight, she'd gotten the better end of the bargain. She lost Kirsh to Marqel, but at least she was still alive to remark the fact.
"I suppose we'll never really know why," Jacinta added, watching Alenor closely.
She smiled wanly. "It's all right, Jacinta. I'm fine. I'm not hypocrite enough to pretend I'm a grieving widow, but I never wished Kirsh harm. The news that Rees Provin is dead is going to cause problems, though. Who is going to rule Elcast? I can hardly let Dirk have it. I mean, even if he wasn't Lord of the Suns, it's fairly old news by now that he wasn't actually Wallin's son." She rubbed her temples, wondering if being a queen ever got any easier. "I guess Rees's baby son is the logical choice, but he's only a few weeks old... still, I can worry about it later, I suppose. Right now I have a lot more urgent things to worry about."