Shadowforged (Light & Shadow) (2 page)

She was my ally, and the other half of myself, in ways I could not have explained. But I feared her sometimes. I wondered if she ever feared me, who already had blood on my hands, who watched the world through the eyes of a spy. Even I feared myself. And, if I was not so foolish as to believe that I could keep my hands clean by riding out the storm in the Duke’s shadow, I feared what would come when we chose a path.

“What
can
we do?” I asked, to distract Miriel from her melancholy. “What choices do we even have?”

“We don’t have any choices yet,” she admitted. “But I’ve thought about it, and being on our own side means that we’re always waiting for our luck to turn—for a chance, something that could set us free.”

“Free from the Duke?” I asked, and she tilted her head to the side.

“Free from our enemies,” she said. “But I’ve thought…what does it mean that we can’t tell who wanted to kill us? And it means that everyone is our enemy.”

“We should trust no one,” I agreed. Miriel smiled, satisfied to hear her thoughts from my mouth.

“Exactly.” She sobered at once. “We have to stay, there’s nowhere to go, and anyway, no way to leave. Which means we stay in a court that hates us.”

“Then our goal is to stay alive,” I said. It was a poor jest, in part because it was no jest at all. Miriel’s mouth only twitched, half-heartedly.

“Garad is our only ally. Him, and Wilhelm.” She took a deep breath, and I saw her fighting to tell herself that what she felt for Wilhelm was nothing more than a girlish fancy, and in any case could cause her nothing but pain. “But, Wilhelm is powerless, and that leaves Garad.”

“Not a poor ally,” I said.
But a fickle one
. She nodded at the unspoken.

“And then our enemies. We know some of them, but not all, and they’re powerful. Which means we need Garad’s favor, yes?” I nodded, and she nodded back. “Yes. And I said we should wait for a chance, something that would set us free…”

“The throne,” I guessed, and she nodded.

“It’s the only way to survive at Court. I must make Garad make me Queen. My uncle should help us. And when I am Queen, then we have power in our own right. But until then, nothing is more important. I mean it Catwin.” Her gaze sharpened. “Not Roine. Not Temar.” I swallowed, as I always did when I thought of him; I hesitated when I thought of Roine’s steady faith in me. But I nodded.

“Not the rebellion,” I rejoined. “Not Wilhelm.” After a pause, she nodded.

“You know, I wanted to make Heddred whole,” she said. “Above all, I want to help this rebellion. And once, I wanted Wilhelm. But I can never have Wilhelm…and I cannot help the rebellion without first having enough power to do so. I can’t see any other way. So I must forsake it for a time, so that one day I can come back and help it…” I had no response, and so we sat in silence, thinking of what we would give up: for Miriel, her dream of happily ever after, and her sense of justice; for me, my loyalty to my family, and my childish love of Temar.

“You know, if we do this, we will be without honor,” Miriel said. I frowned, questioning, unable to follow the sideways slant of her thoughts, and she looked back at me, meeting my gaze openly. “We will be liars, every day, to everyone but each other, won’t we?” I nodded, uncertainly, and she smiled suddenly, feral and dark. “Then perhaps we should not fear other sins. We will make our enemies live to regret that they ever went against us. And then, when they are gone, we will shape Heddred to what it must be.”

I shivered. Was this only the angry words of the scorned and powerless? I could agree if I believed that we would never be able to exact our revenge; what I feared was that we might be able to. I could imagine it only too well. I knew that at this very moment, I could make my way into any noble’s rooms and kill them as they slept. Sometimes, I wondered why I did not do so. I shuddered.

“It is not all dark,” Miriel said, understanding. “Catwin, this is a dark path, but the end is good. And think—do we have any choice? I’ve wondered, sometimes, if the Gods mean us to tread this path. That is our fate together—to lose everything we have held dear until now, so that we may heal our Kingdom.” I looked at her, and saw a woman whose fierce idealism was warped into ambition; I feared for her, and yet—

She was right. There was no other path. My dream came back to me, and there was the feeling of a net closing around me, fate drawing me into a pattern too big for my eyes to see. I shook my head involuntarily.

“Let’s worry about surviving, first,” I said softly, to distract myself. “I don’t think that part is going to be easy.”

“That’s your task,” Miriel reminded me. “To keep us both alive. And mine is to enchant the King.” Unconsciously, she straightened her shoulders, turned her head to show the line of her jaw. Her uncle had bidden her to learn how to stir a man’s desire with only the set of her head, and she had learned it well. He might regret that, now that her talents would be set to the task of enchanting the court for her own purposes, and not his. He had always used us for his own ends; now he was our enemy, even if he did not know it.

“What are you thinking?” Miriel asked me.

“Fooling your uncle is the first thing we need to do,” I said softly. “There are only two ways to survive having him as an enemy. One, make him think we’re friends again. Two, be stronger than he is.” I looked over at her, and she nodded.

“Or both,” she said promptly, and I thought that the Duke would indeed be sorry that he had forged her into such a woman. He should not have had her taught military history. She was quite good at it.

“Or both,” I agreed. “So for now, we have to make him believe we’re all friends again, so he can help you become Queen.” Miriel nodded decisively.

“You keep us alive, and I will become Queen.” It was a poor jest, in part because it was no jest at all.

“You’re not afraid he’ll lose interest before you can get a treaty signed?” I asked curiously. It was the other question that had been worrying me. Garad had flaunted her to the court, he had taken great joy in defying his guardian. What if that wore thin, and reality intruded, before Miriel got a crown on her head? But she only grinned at my fears, a knowing smile.

“I can do it,” she whispered back. “You’ll see. I’ll do it. One way or another.” She smiled. “I’m the best, the very best.”

There was the sound of a door opening, and both of us sank back against the chairs without another word. The maidservant came into the room and glared at us. I smiled blandly back, but for once she had the grim smile of a gambler with a trump card.

“The Duke is coming to see you this morning,” she announced. “So look sharp.”

Miriel rose gracefully from her chair. “Of course we will make his Grace, my uncle, welcome,” she said smoothly. “Come help me get dressed, Anna. Catwin, stoke up the fire and send a page for refreshments. Fresh fruit, and chilled wine.”

It was indeed a gracious welcome—and an extravagance, of the sort the Duke abhorred. It was the gesture of a Queen, such as the Duke had wished Miriel to become—and a reminder that she had come closer to the goal on her own account than he would like. I quirked my mouth, and hastened to do her bidding.

Chapter 2

We were waiting when they arrived. Miriel stood serenely with her hands clasped behind her back, and I stood next to her in the same pose, my stomach flip-flopping in terror. I wondered if she felt the same, and after a glance at her decided that she did not. Now was her time to perform, to enchant, to weave the illusions she was so skilled at making. She would be focused only on the words she had practiced, the expressions and postures she thought would be most useful to her.

I had no such distraction. Resolutely, I had not thought of Temar since the night of the murder attempt. He had been the one to pin me against the bedpost, an arm across my throat, while the Duke swept into the room, observing myself and Miriel with pitiless blue eyes. And it had been Temar who had breathed in my ear, “I told you I would not intervene for you again. Do you want to get yourself killed?” When the Duke had told us, Miriel and me, that we would be confined together, Temar had released me and left without another word.

I was terrified of seeing him, terrified of the jumble of emotions in my chest. His question had felt like a warning, and one did not warn enemies in such a way. In the long days that had passed since the revelation of the King’s love, had Temar meditated on my lies and turned from my ally to my enemy? Beyond even that, I wondered now—at the worst time, waiting to see him again—if it had been he who sent the poisoned food? What if he was leading me away from the truth, as I had led him away from the truth of Miriel and the King? Was this his revenge, was he laying a trap for me? I did not want to think that, and yet no wishing could deny that he was as good a suspect as any. I felt as if I would be sick.

As the guards took up their positions at the walls, I noted their layout and their weapons. Temar had once told me to do so, and Donnett had agreed: “Every armed man who didn’t come in with ye is yer enemy,” he had said. “Remember that, and ye might survive.” And he had snorted, for he still believed that I would be useless in a fight. I wondered if anyone had told Donnett where I had gone. With another twist of my stomach, I wondered what Roine had been told.

The guards were spaced evenly about the room, effective enough that I wondered if the Duke truly expected us to try to escape while he was speaking to us. I had a moment of real fear, wondering if he was going to kill us—at length, I decided that if he had wanted to do so, he would have chosen a less public place. A cellar, perhaps, or the hidden tunnels. The Winter Castle. The thought did not fully set me at ease. The Duke would take his revenge for our ploy at this meeting.

I took a last look around myself, and when I looked back, Temar was watching me. I swallowed as I stared back at him, hoping that he could not see my fear and yet knowing that he could. For a moment, I wished that he could see deeper, and know how my heart twisted to lie to him; I did not want him to think me a cold-hearted traitor. I studied his impassive face, the way he quietly radiated anger, and wondered what lay in his mind. It was strange to stare into a man’s face, and wonder if he had planned my death.

I supposed that I was going to have to get used to that.

As I bowed to the Duke, Miriel swept him a curtsy. “Good morning, my Lord uncle.” He did not waste words. He never wasted words.

“Have you considered yet how you wish to live at court?” He eyed her narrowly, hoping for a misstep, but she spotted the trap at once. She had been on her guard.

“My Lord uncle, as my guardian, it is yours to say if and how I shall live at court.” Her voice was clear, but her eyes were on the ground. He took a long look at her, and then nodded.

“And if I choose to keep you at court, and weather the scandal you have created?” Very economical, was the Duke. Not one to let an opportunity through his fingers, especially when that opportunity was to shame his enemies.

I tried to look nowhere and betray nothing. We were being watched by the two most cunning and observant people I knew, their senses heightened by the fight. Miriel must play this well, and I must not betray her by showing my own emotions.

She wavered visibly, and even knowing that she would have prepared each gesture, I feared for her. Watching Miriel was like watching a play—only there could be no saying how this would end, no way to know what secrets the other actors held. I could only hope that at the end of this, we would have the Duke’s agreement to make Miriel Queen.

“My Lord uncle…”

“Speak up, girl, I don’t have all day.” I snuck a glance, and saw his grim, victorious smile. A wave of derision swept over me. He truly believed that he had caught her.

“My Lord, if you were to forgive me…” She swallowed, as if the words hurt her pride to say. His derision, his belief in his victory, would grate on her. She would long to tell him the truth of it. But she had the goal in her sights and she would bear it all, knowing that it was to betray him someday.

“If you will accept me back, I will be obedient to you.” Miriel enunciated each word clearly. She was fairly quivering with the effort of saying it out loud. I let myself swallow at last, and I dropped my eyes to the floor. I struggled to keep my face blank as the Duke gave a great crow of laughter.

“You will? Ah, and what makes you say that?” I hated him at that moment, and Miriel hated him. He knew that she would. She walked a fine line: knowing that her defiance stoked the fire of his anger, and yet knowing that he expected it, that he would suspect her of playing him false if she was too calm.

Ever surprising, Miriel looked up. She looked directly at him, her face open and set grimly. “I don’t want you as my enemy,” she said honestly. “You would destroy me.” He nodded. “And it is in our interests, each to see the other rise, if only we are allies.”

“Ambition?” His face flickered. He did not want her having her own ends to achieve.

“I want to be Queen,” Miriel stated simply. “Isn’t that what you wanted?” It was the most subtle of jabs: I know you would use me and discard me, and now I have trapped you into saying it, or lying about it. The Duke raised his eyebrows, considering his response, but Miriel was already shifting, hoping to set the Duke off balance. Her jaw was set, her eyes narrowed.

“I want her place,” she said flatly, and his eyes flickered. He was not sure what to make of this. “You saw her as well as me. She thinks I’m nothing. She thinks I’m not fit to give her son advice. She thinks she can turn him away from me and destroy me once his favor is gone. But she would not even be on her throne still if it weren’t for the battle at Voltur. Who is she to think we’re nothing?”

The Duke’s face had gone strained, taut. He did not trust Miriel. He did not want to trust her. But something awoke in his eyes: memories of countless Council meetings, his words disregarded, his achievements forgotten, all for the accident of his birth. And it was a good thing to believe that Miriel would want revenge on another enemy.

“But together, we can undo her. So.” Miriel bit her lip. “If I am obedient to you…we could rise together.”

“Interesting.” His face had returned to its usual impassive expression. “You know, I doubt that you can do it. I don’t think you can hold him that way, for that long.” He smiled, and I saw that he was using the same ploy, setting her off balance. He let his smile stretch, then waved his hand and his eyes hardened. “But there are more important matters. How do I know you are not trying to play me for a fool, Miriel?”

“I would not dare.” Miriel ignored his slight to her abilities. Her voice was muted with real fear. “If you wanted, you could have executed me. I am your ward, it is the law. And I have learned now that I cannot deceive you. You can know that I am not trying, for I cannot risk your displeasure, my Lord uncle. And…” She closed her eyes. “I have learned my lesson.”

“It will not take another lesson?” His voice was wintry.

“My Lord uncle, I only barely survived this one. This is the court. I cannot afford to make mistakes.”

“Sufficient.” He walked over to her and tilted her chin up with his fingers. “You will obey me, Miriel. I will expect it.” I did not like the sound of his voice when he won, and I knew without looking that Miriel disliked it as well. The surprise was Temar; ahead of me, his face had gone as blank as I had ever seen it. There was something here that he did not like, and it was not mistrust of Miriel. I filed that away.

“Be aware, however, that I will not be made a fool of. I will be watching you, and watching the King. I have ways of learning what you do, learning what you say, learning what you think. If you play me false, I will know, and I will make you beg for me to kill you to put an end to your pain.”

“I will not play you false,” Miriel said, a quaver in her voice. “I swear it.” Gone were the days of her clever turns of phrase, her prevarications. She had made her choice of course, and she lied without hesitation.

“Good.” The Duke released her. “Now. News from Ismir.” He strolled over to the table and took a seat. He looked for a moment at the refreshments. “Wine?” It had been his intention to make Miriel serve him, but she was not to be trapped in that way. Her pride had a breaking point.

“Catwin,” she said simply, and so I went to the table and poured a glass of wine for the Duke, and handed it to him. Miriel watched him as he took a sip, her face unreadable.

“The King, no doubt bereft in the loss of your steadying influence—“ he looked at her coldly “—has been less…welcoming…to the Ismiri envoy. Tempers are fraying. He reminds the envoy daily that House Warden will not take accusations of murder lightly.”

“What do you want me to do?” Miriel asked, no hint of insolence in her voice, and the Duke took another sip of wine.

“I want to have this out,” he said. “Kill them all, break their army on the mountains, and take their capital. But the King will never do that. He does not have the stomach for it. So. I want you to remind him of his dignity. Remind him that he must not tolerate such statements. Remind him that Dusan should silence Kasimir’s accusations. And tell him, for the Gods’ sake, to mind Kasimir’s threats to invade.” He drummed his fingers along the side of his glass. “If anyone else asks you, you will be shocked and hurt that anyone should accuse the King of such an act. Look foolish if you must: play the young girl in the first flush of love. The King is your idol, he can do no wrong in your eyes.” Miriel considered, and then nodded.

“Anything else?”

“The rebellion.” His eyes narrowed. “It’s quiet, but not gone. They’re waiting for something. The King must not be persuaded to let Jacces go, just because the violence has died away. He will turn the southern lords against him; they want vengeance.”

“Indeed.” Miriel did not betray, for a moment, that she would help the rebellion when she was Queen. She had made her choice: for now, the rebellion must wait. She considered. “And if
she
talks to me?” she asked. We all knew who She was.

“Sweet. Sweet and deferential. And if anyone asks you about her, she is a magnificent Queen, one you are proud to serve. She’ll get nothing from us that way. If she insults you outright…say only that you are honored by the King’s regard, but do not dream of anything beyond his wishes.”

“Yes, my Lord. What have you told the court, as to why I have not been seen for a week?”

“I told them that you were ill,” the Duke said. “There were rumors of poison, did you know?” I was on high alert at once, every muscle quivering. “Ridiculous,” the Duke said, too easily. “Foolish to think that anyone would poison a child. I told them so.”

I could not help myself—in that moment, I had to know if it had been the two of them. I cast a look at Temar and, to my surprise, he was watching me as well. But I got nothing for my indiscretion; his face was unreadable. If it had been he who slipped the poison into our food, there was no guilt showing in his eyes. I shivered; there was a reckoning coming, but I did not know how, and I did not know when.

Unlike me, Miriel had been braced for the reference to poison. Her smile did not slip even a fraction. “Foolish indeed,” she concurred sweetly. “Am I to be well enough to attend dinner tonight, then, my Lord?”

“I expect it. And I expect you to be charming, and sweet, and remind all who see you that the King has chosen you because you are the finest of the maidens at court. Do not put on any airs, or be familiar with him: a curtsy to the throne, nothing more. Let him seek you out.

“I will let you prepare yourself for your return to court. Oh, and another thing—if the King arranges to meet you, you will send Catwin with a message. I expect to know where, and when. And allow him no liberties.”

“He has never asked anything dishonorable of me,” Miriel said. There was a note of pride in her voice, and her uncle’s eyes gleamed. He was quick to cut her down.

“If you are not incompetent, he will. Within a year, at most, I should think. You will tell me when he does.”

“But hold him off.” Miriel’s voice was expressionless.

“No one has ever found a better way to keep a man.” The Duke sounded amused. “Deny him what he most wants, and he will give you what you most want.” He smiled. “Perhaps, at any rate. If you can do it.”

Miriel’s eyebrow quirked, and then she shrugged one shoulder. “Yes, my Lord uncle.”

“You don’t intend to disobey?”

“And be ruined and cast aside?” Miriel countered. “No. I do not.” He laughed, and left the room, and Temar left with him, without a backward glance. When I looked back to Miriel, she was watching me.