The Conqueror's Shadow (34 page)

He looked so normal out of that horrific suit of armor. Just another fellow, his dark hair speckled with bits of premature grey, his face sprouting the first shoots of what might, if left unchecked, blossom into a full beard. Only his eyes, pools as deep as any sea, suggested he was anything more.

“Not hungry?” Rebaine asked, gesturing at the untouched plate. He'd been strangely solicitous—almost shy, even—since he'd taken her. Tyannon was all but positive that the warlord really hadn't the slightest idea of what to actually
do
with her.

“No.” She flinched, drawn from her thoughts, to stare at the—man? monster?—across from her. “I'm still full from lunch.”

“You barely
touched
lunch.”

Tyannon shrugged.

“As you like,” he sighed, not so much angry as resigned. “I'll make sure we get a big breakfast before we head out in the morning.” He watched her, his mouth occasionally twitching as though to say something more, but whatever words he carried got lost somewhere on the way to his lips.

/Maybe she's trying to starve herself to death
,/ Khanda offered.
/She'd be doing you a favor, you know./

Corvis ignored him. Again.

“All right.” He began the litany that had been their lullaby since leaving Denathere. “No noise. No calls for help, no hidden messages. Anyone you attract—”

“Yes, I know!” Tyannon's fists suddenly clenched. “Anyone I attract, you're going to have to kill! Anyone who realizes who you are, or that I don't want to be with you, is a threat! And no, I don't want to get anyone else killed! How many bloody times do you think I have to hear it?” It was more words than she'd strung together at any given time since she'd confronted him beneath the Hall of Meeting.

Corvis blinked twice. “I, uh, just want to make sure we understand each other.”

“Oh, I understand you, Rebaine.” And then she straightened, her face all but lighting up. “I
do
understand,” she said, her voice suddenly soft but far more firm than Corvis had ever heard it. “You're trying to keep me afraid.”

/Kill her./

“That's it, isn't it? That's what you're all about.”

/Kill her, Corvis! Kill her now!/

“What do you mean?” Corvis asked, almost despite himself, rising to stand before her. She rose, too, though of course she could not match his height.

“Your armies, your monsters, your armor—it's all about fear. It's how you keep control.”

“Well … Yes,” he admitted. “It is.”

/Have you gone
completely
insane?! Don't
talk
to her about this!/

“You may not believe it, Tyannon, you may think I'm a monster, but this was never about hurting anyone more than I had to.”

The girl actually laughed, though it was a brittle, bitter sound. “You hung body parts along the streets where their families lived!”

“As you just said: fear. Tell me something, Tyannon. How many people
didn't
rise up to fight me because they were too afraid of what I'd do to them? How many
more
lives would I have had to take?”

“You can't rule a nation that way!”

“Not indefinitely, no. But you can
take
one.”

“Can you? Funny, I don't see a crown on your head.”

/Corvis, this is getting dangerous …/

“It was for the best, Tyannon. If you're with me long enough, maybe you'll under—”

The room literally echoed with the report of her slap. Corvis Rebaine, Terror of the East, actually staggered back, one hand rising to his stinging cheek, and damn if tears didn't come to his eyes! Oh, he'd have liked to shrug it off, to pretend he'd just been startled … But it would've been a lie. Damn, the girl could
hit!

“What was … What did … What?” he stammered.

“You're a fraud. A pompous, deluded fool trying to convince himself he did the right thing.” Tyannon wasn't sure where the courage had come from, any more than she'd known why she'd suddenly mouthed off to the black-armored warlord back in Denathere. But she knew she had to ride it while it lasted. “What do you do when someone's not afraid of you anymore? What then?”

Rebaine's eyes narrowed. “I'd be careful, if I were you, Tyannon. I—”

“You'll what? You need me, Rebaine. That's the whole reason I'm here, remember? Maybe I can't afford to draw attention to us, because I don't want to get anyone else hurt—but you can't afford to hurt
me
, either.”

“I won't need you indefinitely,” he growled. “Remember?”

“I remember. And then you'll either let me go, like you promised you would, or you'll kill me because I irritated you. And that'll pretty much put the lie to who you pretend to be, won't it?” Tyannon didn't even wait for a reply; she simply shoved the plate of meat to the floor and curled up in bed, facing away from her openmouthed captor.

/Damn it, Corvis! I warned you about this! I
warned
you! For hell's sake
, kill her!/

But Corvis could only dress slowly for bed.
For
many hours he lay awake, the floor pressing on his back mercilessly through the blanket, and stared upward at nothing at all.

/IF THIS TURNS OUT
to be some blatant trap you're about to saunter into, and you get yourself killed, I'm going to be greatly disappointed./

“Why, Khanda,” Corvis said, voice reverberating hollowly through his helm, “I had no idea you cared.”

/What are you, stupid? I'd shed more tears over a diseased rat than I would you. I just don't want to be left on a putrefying corpse out in the middle of some field for the next few centuries./

“Ah. My mistake.”

/It usually is./

The dirt and gravel of the winding road crunched beneath the warlord's tread. Shimmering moonlight bathed everything in a dancing glimmer of faerie fire, creating a landscape of flitting ghosts and flickering dreams. Most travelers would have found it disorienting, but to Corvis, his night vision enhanced by a simple spell, it was merely distracting.

Sporadic trees lined the roadside, and these he spared a passing glance, alert for any hint of ambush. He didn't need Khanda to tell him this was almost certainly a trap. But Corvis, over the strenuous objections of his companions, chose to accept the invitation nonetheless. He might have made arguments about assessing the strength and nature of the enemy forces, but in truth Corvis was intensely curious to learn exactly what sort of man he was dealing with.

And so he neared the “neutral area” Audriss's messenger conveyed to Khanda, his right fist stuck to Sunder's hilt as though welded there. His eyes were wide and watchful, the searing power of Khanda's magic tensed and gathered at his fingertips.

/You realize,/
Khanda remarked,
/that Audriss probably expected you to meet with him
tomorrow.
His messenger seemed a bit taken aback when I told him we were on the way./

“That's the point. I wanted to throw them off a little.”

/To what end?/

“It makes me feel better.”

/Ah. How petty./

“Is there any particular reason,” Corvis asked irritably, “that you're unwilling to go more than two minutes without making some useless, sarcastic, and, above all, annoying remark?”

/Does it bother you?/

“Excessively.”

/That's the reason./

The grating of the gravel beneath his boots ceased abruptly as Corvis froze, scanning the road before him with senses both human and infernal. “Did you hear something?”

/I did, and it sounded close./

One of the shadows before them extruded itself into the light of the moon. A small, misshapen form emerged from that shadow. Corvis could hear the shallow, abrasive breathing and the clicker-clack of the creature's claws as it dragged itself into the light.

“He thinks this is the one he waits for, yes.” The sound—for it could not be termed a voice in any human sense of the word—didn't emanate from the creature in any normal fashion. It
crawled
forth, skittering across the intervening space and washing over Corvis, tickling horribly, a tide of twitching spider legs. “He thinks that this one he cannot have, no.”

“Oh, gods!” Corvis hissed. “Gnomes!”

“He thinks you are wrong,” came a second voice, crawling from the shadows. “He thinks this is not the one. He thinks this is just another human. He wants it, yes, to have. He wonders, yes, if it will taste like the last one.”

“I have a friend you ought to meet,” the Terror of the East told it calmly, determined to show these abhorrent monstrosities no fear. “You can discuss recipes.”

“He will have it now, yes, take it,” the second voice grated. “Before it can try to run, to hide.”

“You will not,” Corvis said firmly. “I'm here to see Audriss.”

“You see!” It was the first gnome again, the one who'd partially emerged into the light. “He knew! He knew it was the one he wanted.”

“He thinks you are wrong, still, yes. He hungers.”

“And he wonders,” the first mewled impatiently, “what will happen when Audriss learns you have killed the wrong one, eaten it?”

“He is not afraid, no, not of Audriss, not a human.” But the tone was sullen.

“He will take it to Audriss, yes, and learn. If it is not the one, no, he and he eat it then.”

“Agreed.”

The first of the gnomes shambled farther into the light, granting Corvis an unwanted view of its deformity. Limbs bent not only in the wrong directions, but in an excessive number of those directions at
once. Even aided by his night-vision enchantment, Corvis could make out nothing of the creature's face save a pair of gleaming, feral eyes and a gaping, jagged maw.

“He will take you to see Audriss, yes, to speak with him. You will come, yes, follow.” The eyes gleamed. “He wonders, does it understand? Does it know that it should not attempt to flee, no, nor to hit and harm? Does it know, he wonders, what he will do to it if it tries?”

“It has a pretty good idea,” Corvis said drily. “It used to work with gnomes.”

“Good. Then it will follow quietly, yes, in peace.” Pivoting grotesquely, the gnome meandered back into the shadows, not even bothering to check if Corvis followed. He did, staying on the creature's heels as it followed an unseen path through tall grasses and trees.

When they finally reached their destination, Corvis was reluctantly impressed by the sheer ostentation of the place. Atop a wide, flat rise had been assembled a pavilion-sized tent, made of thick black canvas and staked out by iron rods. A black pennant, lined in silver and displaying an emerald snake half risen to strike, flapped and kicked loudly from the center pole. A thin tendril of smoke undulated upward from a narrow tin tube functioning as a portable chimney. The ground around Audriss's mobile headquarters was blanketed by a thick but low-lying fog, probably the result of the nighttime condensation dewing the surrounding grass; it added an eerie, surreal aura to the scene.

The only piece missing was the unit of grim, black-clad guards that would normally have been an aesthetic requirement for so arrogant a scene. Apparently, Audriss was taking his promise of safety on neutral ground to surprising lengths—or else he was so supremely confident that he felt no need for added protection.

/Cozy sort of place,/
Khanda noted.

“I'm so glad you approve.”

/Well, it's nothing a good bonfire wouldn't improve …/
There was a momentary pause.
/Be very careful. He's got his demon with him./

“So do I.”

The gnome came to a halt, impatiently glaring back over his shoulder—literally—as Corvis examined the tableau. “There could be a small army in that damn tent,” he murmured.

/Could be, but there isn't./

“Are you sure?”

/No, Corvis, I accidentally overlooked three hundred soldiers hiding behind the tent pole. Yes, I'm bloody well sure!/

“Sorry.”

“He wonders what it is doing,” the gnome grumbled. “He thinks that it should hurry, yes, keep moving.”

“In a minute,” the warlord snapped, refusing to be rushed. Then, more quietly, “So what can you tell me about what
is
inside that tent?”

/Audriss, for one thing. At least, I assume it's Audriss. It's someone I can't probe, because he's shielded. Have you pissed off any
other
demon-wielding world-conquering madmen of late?/

“No,” Corvis said sourly, “I figured I'd start small and work my way up. What about the demon? Can you tell me anything about him?”

/Hmm. Let's see … He's strong. Not stronger than me, but then, who is? Imprisoned, much as I am. You know, Corvis, I'd be even stronger if you freed me, and I'd be grateful enough to—/