Shadow War Part 10

But the land itself grew increasingly desolate. The trees were either stunted and deformed, or they stood as burned skeletons leaning over the progressively steeper trail. The air had grown strangely warm and oppressive, smelling strongly of cinders, ash, and smoke. Yet he saw no fire. Sweating, Caelan loosened the throat of his tunic and slicked back a strand of hair from his eyes. His horse pranced and minced along as though walking on eggs, snorting with every uncertain step.

Caelan realized he had come to the forbidden mountain of Sidraigh-hal, Sidraigh-hal, once sacred ground of the shadow G.o.ds. Across the narrow valley, it rose above him, black and forbidding, its fiery top wreathed in yellow, sulfur-laden mists. once sacred ground of the shadow G.o.ds. Across the narrow valley, it rose above him, black and forbidding, its fiery top wreathed in yellow, sulfur-laden mists.

Drawing rein in dismay, Caelan knew he should turn back before he found himself in worse trouble. This was no place for him. Even the simple awareness of where he was sent gooseb.u.mps crawling up his spine.

Breathing an old childhood prayer, he edged forward.

Here and there, frozen tongues of black lava scored the hillside. Lava canyons fell away sharply, their razor precipices offering death without warning.

The trail crossed a tiny stream, and the horse balked at first, refusing to cross it. Glancing around warily, Caelan dismounted and knelt at the edge. He was thirsty, and he wanted to wash off the creature's blood that still stank loathsomely. But when he put his hand into the water, he found it strangely warm as though it had been heated.

Caelan cupped water in his palm and tasted it. It was foul. He spat, shuddering, and splashed some of the water quickly onto his arm and shoulder.

A faint rumble pa.s.sed through the earth.

Uneasily Caelan scrambled to his feet. His horse broke away and ran off. Caelan swore silently, but he did not go after it. The panicky animal could elude him easily, and he dared not waste time chasing it.

Feeling isolated and more vulnerable than before, he stepped over the stream and continued, keeping to cover as best he could. The farther he went, the hotter it became. The air smelled of ashes, and the ground grew unpleasantly warm beneath his feet. Here and there, the earth broke open to let steaming mud bubble out.

Something screamed in the distance, and Caelan jerked himself up tight against a tree. He stood there, tense and listening, his mouth open to gulp air, his heart pounding out of control. The outcry had been too brief for him to guess whether it belonged to a man or wild animal. But something out there in the darkness was hunting.

Hunting ... him. him.

His hand grew sweaty and tight on the sword hilt. Again, he cursed himself for having come to this G.o.dless place. But he could not retreat now. Caelan pushed himself forward, his breath coming short and fast.

Ahead, past a stand of charred trees and new saplings, a hut loomed in the shadows. Its windows were shuttered tight, permitting no light to escape. Yet Caelan could hear the restless snorts and s.h.i.+fting about of horses, as though the animals were inside. His keen ears picked up low murmurs of voices, punctuated occasionally by a sharper exclamation.

Caelan circled about in search of a sentry, and found none. Only then did he approach the hut, from the back, and with great care. His feet moved soundlessly over the hot ground until he could press himself against the wall. Back here, there was only one window. Its shutter was warped, and Caelan could peer inside through the crack.

He saw a single room littered with straw and rat trash. The walls were crude daub and wattle. A fire burned on the hearth, smoking as though the chimney was blocked. In one corner the horses stood tied. Weapons, including Tirhin's fas.h.i.+onable rapier and jeweled dagger, lay in a small stack near a water pail. In the opposite corner Prince Tirhin, Lord Sien, and two other men stood cl.u.s.tered about a tiny, crude altar. Warding fires burned in tiny bronze cups, emitting green smoke as protection against whatever spirits lurked in this place of ancient evil.

The prince looked very pale, angry, and uncertain. Sien spoke and Tirhin shook his head violently. He broke away and began to pace. Doing so gave Caelan his first clear look at the other two men.

One stood in worn battle armor, tall and grizzled, missing one ear and badly scarred across the face. He was Madrun, no mistaking it. The other man, younger and well dressed in a foreign style, was also Madrun.

He spoke Lingua persuasively: "Please listen to the rest of our proposal, Lord Tirhin."

"No!" the prince said, casting a furious glare at Sien, who stood impa.s.sively with the green smoke floating across his face. "I will not betray my own people, not for gain, not for anything!"

"It is not a question of betrayal," the civilian Madrun said. "It is a question of helping each other. This war has drained us severely. We are an exhausted people. We are a starving people. Our men die in the battlefields, and who is left to raise crops and father children? Help us, Lord Tirhin, by giving us a way to end this war. And we shall help you to take your father's throne."

The prince barely seemed to hear. He was still glaring at the priest. "You brought me here to listen to this? What were you thinking?"

Sien's yellow eyes gleamed in the torchlight. "I was thinking your highness needs allies and support."

Tirhin clenched his fists. He was white about the mouth, and his eyes were blazing. "I have support-"

"From the army?" Sien said softly. "The way you had its support before?"

Red stained Tirhin's cheeks. "That was-"

"Need real army," interrupted the Madrun soldier, his voice gruff and guttural. "Need fighters to tear throne from dying emperor. Wait too long already."

"I see," Tirhin said, clipping off his words. "I am to let you into Imperia, let you pillage and destroy my city. And what a.s.surances do I have that you will leave when your work is done?"

"Our word," the civilian began.

Tirhin uttered a short, ugly laugh. "The word of a Madrun? No."

The soldier bristled, but Sien lifted his hands. Gowned in saffron with a leopard hide worn across his shoulders, his shaved head gleaming with oil, he stepped between the Madruns and the prince.

"Let us speak openly of our needs and how we may help each other. Sir," he said first to Tirhin, "you have need of armed support, substantial enough to subdue civil unrest. Without an army, you cannot hold the empire together. We have already seen enough evidence to warn us that the provinces will split from each other if given the chance."

He frowned slightly at Tirhin, as though conveying an unspoken message, and turned to the Madruns. "And you, sirs, have need of peace."

The soldier growled.

"An alliance between our empire and yours would allow you a chance to recover. Once your resources were rebuilt, perhaps with the help of advantageous trade agreements between us, you could then wage new wars on your other enemies." Sien lifted his hands. "It is such a simple solution, and satisfies so many things for both sides. Come, sirs, put aside old grievances and traditions. Consider the future and new ways."

"We are willing," the civilian Madrun said.

All of them stared at Tirhin, who still looked pale and tense.

His eyes sought only Sien's. "There has to be another way."

"You have been loyal to your father," Sien said persuasively. "No one could argue that. You care about your people. Yes, they are yours, by right! You are the true heir to the throne, not that woman. What will become of you, of your steadfastness all these years, of your work, of your service when he gives his empire to her? her? She cannot rule this land. She lacks the strength of will, the knowledge, the ability. She is only a woman, foolish and weak. Her training comes from the Penestrican witches, and you can imagine what they have implanted in her mind. She will lose the empire. She will let it crumble into anarchy. She cannot hold it. You know that." She cannot rule this land. She lacks the strength of will, the knowledge, the ability. She is only a woman, foolish and weak. Her training comes from the Penestrican witches, and you can imagine what they have implanted in her mind. She will lose the empire. She will let it crumble into anarchy. She cannot hold it. You know that."

"Yes," Tirhin whispered. His face held bleak bitterness and resentment. "I know."

"Be bold. Seize what belongs to you now, while the chance is in your hand. At least listen to what the Madruns propose. They are not the first enemy to be turned into friends. Let them help you, and then help them in return."

Tirhin frowned and turned his back on the priest. In doing so he faced the back wall, and Caelan could see his face clearly. There was torment in the prince's eyes, torment overladen with anger and a dawning look of purpose. Caelan could see the decision in his master's face long before Tirhin drew a deep breath and squared his shoulders.

The prince swung around and faced the other men. "Very well. I agree."

The Madruns grinned and slapped each other on the back. Even Sien permitted himself a faint smile of intense satisfaction.

"Now," he said in his deep voice, "you become the ruler you were born to be."

Tirhin shrugged angrily, still visibly tense as he accepted the a.s.surances of the Madruns. The civilian crossed to the horses and took down two bulging saddlebags. He flung these on the altar, and gold coins spilled from beneath the flap of one.

"Here is our first way of giving you support," he said eagerly. "Bribes for officials. Bribes for officers. Bribes for the palace guards and those who protect the woman. Our army will stand ready. Prepare an order for those who man the post towers at our border-"

"My priests can persuade the soldiers to let you cross the border," Sien said.

Tirhin threw him a sharp look, but the Madruns smiled.

The soldier leaned forward. "Give us that, and army will stand at Imperia's walls in these days." He held up his hand, all five fingers spread wide. "We help you take city."

Tirhin gestured in repudiation. "You move too fast. If you think I will let you through the city gates, you-"

"There have been too many delays already!" the civilian Madrun said fiercely. "Had you accepted our proposal last year, there would be no empress in the way now."

"A mere detail," Tirhin retorted hotly. "First you want the border, and our strategy plans, then the palace, now the city. What next will you demand from me?"

"Gently, gently," Sien said in quiet warning.

Tirhin looked as though he might choke, but he silenced himself.

"We do not beg you," the soldier said with gruff dignity. "We offer deal. You take it. Or you not take it. You decide now."

Tirhin looked ill. "I have already given you my decision."

The soldier shoved the saddlebag at him so that the coins spilled in a heavy golden stream to the floor. "Then take! And give what we ask. Do not wring your hands like woman, moaning about honor. In war, there is no honor. Only victory, or defeat."

c.o.c.king his head to one side, he glared at the prince.

Tirhin drew a folded piece of parchment from inside his tunic and handed it over. The Madruns fell on it eagerly, and Tirhin turned away. He walked over the coins unheedingly, his face bleak and empty.

Sien spoke very quietly to the Madruns, who laughed, but took their horses and weapons and left.

Caelan grimaced to himself and stole to the corner of the hut. Watching unseen, he saw the two men mount up and ride away into the darkness.

Torn, Caelan wondered whether to run after them. With luck and the element of surprise, he might be able to slay them and recover the plans the prince had given away. But the Madruns galloped away, too fast to catch.

That left his master the traitor.

Caelan's frown deepened. He felt sickened by what he'd witnessed. His former admiration for Tirhin now felt like cheap delusion.

To betray Imperia to its direst enemies, out of spite and ambition ...

Disgust filled Caelan. He vowed to put a stop to Tirhin's plots, but how?

Uncertain of what to do, Caelan returned to his spyhole and peered in just as Sien lifted a smoking pot from the fire and poured its dark liquid contents into a cup. He proffered this to Tirhin, who was sitting dejectedly on a stool.

"Here," the priest said. "It is time to finish what you have begun."

The prince waved it away without glancing up. "Do I poison her or merely stab her in the throat? Do I bribe my way into her chambers and smother her in her sleep? Any suggestions for how this infamy should be conducted?"

"You are tired," the priest said soothingly. "Do not think of those details now. There are other matters that should come first. Drink this."

"One of your potions?" the prince said. "No."

Anger crossed Sien's face. "This is a gift. Not from my hands, but from he whom I serve. It will give you strength. It will make you greater than any other man. It will start you on the path to immortality."

Reverence filled his voice. He held the smoking cup between his hands as though it were something to be wors.h.i.+pped. "The cup of Beloth," he intoned, his face radiant. "The gift of life."

Tirhin glanced up, his interest caught at last. "My father's drink," he said. "What my father bargained with the shadow G.o.d for, and won."

Sien smiled. "Yes."

Tirhin's face hardened. "Once again I walk in my father's footsteps. Am I only to follow? Never to forge my own path?"

"You have begun your own path tonight," Sien a.s.sured him. "Your father's road is ending."

"And all I have to do to live for a thousand years is drink this?" the prince asked, his voice harsh with disbelief. "Don't I have to go before the G.o.d and make my own bargain?"

Sien put down the cup and frowned. "You fool! You jeer at what you do not understand."

"I am not an idiot. I know nothing is that easy."

"You are mistaken," Sien said angrily. "The path to Beloth is very easy. Once fear is put aside-"

"So I am afraid, am I?" Tirhin said with equal heat. "Why? Because I am a skeptic? I am not of the same superst.i.tious, primitive era as my father. What did he do to awaken the shadow G.o.d?"

"That, you may not know," Sien said. "But I brought him the first cup, as I have brought it to you tonight. If you spurn this, then you are not worthy of-"

Tirhin jerked to his feet, knocking over his stool. "It is not for you to decide that!" he shouted. "You are no kingmaker, for all your power. You do not rule the empire. You never will. Get that clear, for I will not be your puppet."

"Events are already set in motion," Sien said. "You cannot undo them now."

"No, but I shall control them as I wish. Not as you wish." As he spoke, Tirhin took the cup and dashed it to the floor.

The dark contents splashed out, hissing before the tamped earth absorbed them.

Sien cried something, but it was lost in a loud rumble that shook the earth.

Caelan scrambled upright and clung to the outer wall of the hut for support. This sudden violence from the ground was terrifying. Caelan found his heart slamming against his ribs. If Beloth did indeed live inside this mountain, then the prince's defiance had angered him.

Ash and smoke belched from the top of the mountain. The ground went on shaking violently, as though it would split open. Part of the hut's roof began to fall in. Caelan could hear the horses neighing in terror.

Racing around to the front of the hut, he shouldered open the door with a slam that nearly broke it off its hinges.

"Get out!" he shouted. "If you don't want all of it coming down on your head, get out now!"

Seeing freedom, the horses bolted past him. Caelan grabbed at one's bridle, but it knocked him spinning. Winded and stunned, Caelan struggled upright. By the time he regained his feet, the ground had stopped shaking, but the prince was standing over him.

"Sir-" Caelan began.

Without warning, the prince struck Caelan a harsh blow across the face.

Caelan went staggering back, and managed to catch himself against the hut. He straightened slowly, his cheek throbbing with pain. He could feel a hot trickle of blood down his jaw, and guessed he had been cut by the prince's signet ring.

Tirhin advanced on him and struck him again. "You followed me. You deliberately disobeyed my orders."

He lifted his hand a third time, but Caelan brought up his sword and held the point between them.

Caelan's own temper was running hot now, and he let it show in his eyes. "I came to help you. To protect you from what has followed you tonight."