Shadow War Part 34

Elandra sensed dangerous crosscurrents around her. Angers and resentments smoldering beneath the surface.

She wanted the Traulander. He was the best fighter because he was arena trained. That alone made him more ruthless, more dangerous than the others. He was loyal, perhaps to extremes. He was fierce, as fierce as Hovet any day. He was strong, with incredible stamina, and he healed quickly. He had been a champion, which meant he was a survivor, yet he possessed integrity and honesty. He was intelligent and perhaps sensitive. There was nothing of the brute in him, although his manners needed work.

He was ideal for her purposes, but she dared not select him. For one thing, he had belonged to Tirhin only a few days ago. She did not understand whether the prince had sold him or freed him or why, but she suspected from the look on Tirhin's face that it had not been by choice. Tirhin already considered her his enemy and direct rival. She did not wish to fuel the flames of his resentment.

Besides, she was extremely disconcerted by her personal reaction to Caelan E'non today. Disconcerted and angry. Pa.s.sion was not a quality she expected to find in herself. She would not permit it to exist if she could not feel it for her husband.

No, Caelan was too dangerous, in too many ways.

Without further hesitation, she looked at the curly-headed man. "I choose Rander Malk."

Rander's mouth dropped open in disbelief, only to spread wide in a grin.

Thai Brintel sneered, hooding his eyes but not before she saw contempt in their depths, mingled with a dose of self-pity. She was glad to be rid of him.

Caelan E'non was looking at Tirhin; then his gaze brushed against hers and again she felt oddly breathless. He nodded to her very slightly, and it was like a tiny salute of respect and acceptance.

That, more than anything else, rea.s.sured her that she had done the right thing.

Then all was confusion. The sergeant hustled the others away, leaving Rander Malk with only his captain for support. Rander looked overwhelmed and delighted. He could not stop grinning.

When she rose to her feet and walked over to speak to him, he bowed deeply to her.

"My lady-Majesty," he stammered. "I am honored. I will serve you till death. I swear it."

She returned his smile, gratified by his eagerness, but held up her hand. "The truth-light first. Lord Sien?"

The priest gathered a shimmering ball of unearthly light in his palm, then tossed it at the suddenly serious Rander. The light shimmered down over the soldier and spilled in a radiant glow at his feet.

"He is true, Majesty," Sien said.

She nodded and held out her hand to Rander, who knelt and kissed her fingers clumsily. But all the while, she was thinking of a tall, kingly man with blue eyes who was walking away from her at this moment, a man who would have served her beyond duty and ordinary courage, a man who might have given her his heart and his soul.

She wanted to change her mind and call him back, but she couldn't, not with Rander kneeling at her feet and humbly swearing his oath of allegiance. Not with her aged husband standing beside her with a benign smile of approval.

Chapter Eighteen.

A strange noise awakened Elandra from the depths of sleep. It was a soft susurration of sound, like the rubbing of cloth across a hard surface, almost inaudible, yet unusual enough to have p.r.i.c.ked through the layers of her sleep. At the same time she also became conscious of a disturbing warmth against her chest.

She stirred, burrowing her face deeper against her pillow, and slitted one eye open.

A strange golden glow shone from beneath her, reflecting off the pale surfaces of her pillow and bedclothes.

Puzzled and only semiawake, she groped for the jewel pouch hanging around her neck. When her fingers closed on it, she was startled by its warmth. It was as though the jewel had taken on a life of its own. The light glowing from it spilled through the drawn top of the pouch and grew increasingly brighter.

Elandra raised her head and yawned, wondering what magic was working on the jewel.

Just then, she heard a slight sc.r.a.pe of the bed curtain rings upon the bra.s.s rod fitted to the canopy of her bed.

Elandra rolled over and saw a shadow looming over her.

It was like nothing she had ever seen before. In that split second of frozen time, she saw it clearly in the unearthly light cast by the topaz. It was the shadow of a man, yet only the shadow. There was no man standing there to cast it. Dark and opaque, it was thin enough to look almost invisible when viewed from the side.

Elandra opened her mouth, but with impossible quickness it surged closer, engulfing her.

Its ghostly fingers reached for the cord around her neck.

Elandra screamed and flailed against it, trying to drive it back. But her hands pa.s.sed through it as though it was made of air.

She screamed again, rolling away from its unearthly touch, but it snagged the cord in its fingers and held fast.

She did not know how it could do so, but this was not a time to question what she was witnessing. The tug of the cord around her throat frightened her, and she suddenly feared this creature meant to strangle her.

She screamed a third time, but its dark fingers dug instead inside the pouch for the topaz.

"No!" Elandra shouted, but a burst of light shot forth from the jewel, filling the interior of her bed and almost blinding her.

She heard a scream inside her head, scree-thin and horrifying.

The shadow dropped the pouch. The topaz was blazing now, and Elandra cupped her hand protectively over it as she scrambled back.

She seized pillows and flung them at the shadow, only to see them pa.s.s harmlessly through it. Then she was tumbling off the opposite side of the bed, landing in an awkward tangle on the floor, as frightened as she was furious.

Where was her protector?

"Majesty!" Rander cried, crashing into the room. Holding a lamp aloft with one hand, he ripped open the bed curtains just as she picked herself up and came around to the foot of the bed.

"Rander, take care!" she tried to warn him.

The lamp fell from his hands, shattering on the floor and spilling burning oil across the carpets. Little flames danced up like imps, reaching for the floor-length bed curtains. One blazed with a sudden whoosh of fire up to the canopy.

Rander went stumbling back from the bed with the shadow on top of him. It had him by the throat, and he grunted in increasing desperation, hurling himself about in an effort to throw it off.

Chairs went crashing as he flailed and fought.

"Rander!" she called in horror.

The protector staggered and dropped to his knees, gasping and wheezing. Elandra ran for the door, wondering where her ladies were, wondering where the guards were; then she ran back toward him, her long hair flying.

Rander had drawn his dagger, but the weapon had no effect on the shadow that perched on his chest. His body convulsed violently, then went slack. The dagger fell from his fingers.

"No!" Elandra cried.

She dodged the flames that were now roaring in the middle of a fine carpet and knelt at his side. Taking the jewel pouch in both hands, she pulled open the top and touched the topaz to the shadow.

Again she heard that thin scream in her mind. It flew off Rander and went sliding across the floor, flowing up one wall with liquid rapidity.

Elandra bent over Rander, gripping his sleeve. But his protruding tongue and staring eyes told her she had not been quick enough to save him. Protector less than a day, dead already in her service.

"No!" she cried, shaking him although she knew it was futile. "Please, no!"

The shadow leaped onto her back, clinging cold and surprisingly heavy. She nearly fell across Rander from the impact of its landing and caught herself just in time.

The cord around her neck drew tight, and in a panic she twisted around to thrust the topaz at it.

The shadow sprang off her and flowed away.

An eerie sound from behind her made her spin around, crouching low even as she picked up Rander's dagger.

More shadows spread into the room through the open doorway, sliding across the floor, half-seen against the leaping flames and thickening smoke.

Coughing, Elandra crept backward until her back b.u.mped against the wall. The shadows converged on her, driving her down one side of the room toward the doorway leading to the secret pa.s.sageway. She thought about plunging into it, realized how easily these things could trap her in the narrow, unlit s.p.a.ce, and shuddered in fear. Better to stay here in the smoke and the fire, where she could at least see these things.

One leaped at her, but she fended it off by holding the topaz aloft. The jewel's fierce glow spread around her like a golden nimbus, protecting her. Its heat nearly burned her hand, but she dared not drop it.

She worked her way back across the room, dodging the fire as best she could, until she reached her clothes chest. Throwing open the lid with one hand, she rummaged swiftly for a gown, shoes, and the golden cloak given her by the Mahirans.

As she pulled it forth, the shadows shrank back, fleeing to the corners of the room.

Elandra tossed the cloak swiftly about her shoulders, ducked her head against the stinging smoke, and fled.

They pursued her, silent and terrifying, moving quicker than thought. Yet the next time one leaped at her, it bounced off the cloak and shriveled to nothing.

Heart pounding in satisfaction, Elandra whirled around defiantly to face the remainder. "Get back from me, things of h.e.l.l!" she cried, brandishing the glowing topaz. "I am not your prey."

The shadows fell back as though they understood her threat, and Elandra turned and ran again.

None of her ladies-in-waiting were to be found anywhere in her chambers. And when she burst out into the main pa.s.sageway, she found her guards slumped on the floor. Dead or unconscious, she had no time to find out.

She stepped over them and looked both ways. In the distance she heard shouts. Her heart leaped with hope, but then she realized they were not sounds of imminent rescue but instead sounds of battle.

Smoke poured from the doorway behind her, reminding her she must not linger.

She brandished her topaz at the shadows following her, and they seemed reluctant to venture forth into the lit pa.s.sageway. Seizing her opportunity to escape, Elandra ran full tilt past the throne room, where flames were licking around the edges of the doors as though a fire had been started inside it also.

The lamps were not lit in the pa.s.sageway ahead of her, and she slowed down, renewed fear making her cautious.

Shouting men stormed along a cross-pa.s.sageway, brandishing torches and drawn swords. They looked foreign, barbaric.

Elandra flinched back, pressing herself against the wall. To her relief, none of them noticed her. But it had been a close call, and her heart would not stop pounding. She dared not continue forward, but she feared to turn back.

Who were those men? Hadn't Kostimon boasted to her only hours ago that the invading Madruns had been turned back?

"Majesty," whispered a voice from behind her.

She whirled around with a m.u.f.fled cry, only to sag with relief at the sight of one of her guardsmen. He was missing his helmet, and his gold cloak was ripped and stained, but he was an ally.

She ran to him, grateful. "Take me to the emperor, at once."

"Not this way," he replied, his eyes darting back and forth on the alert. "Come, I must get you to the stables."

He hurried her back the way she'd come, then pulled her down a short flight of steps into the servants' corridor. They wound through a series of seemingly endless pa.s.sageway, sometimes using the main ways, sometimes the servants'.

After several minutes, when Elandra was quite breathless from keeping up with his loping stride, the guardsman abruptly turned and pushed her into the scant protection of a doorway. She stood there beside him, trembling, her gown and shoes still clutched in her arms, and listened to the sounds of approaching men.

He touched her arm lightly. When she looked up, he put his finger to his lips.

He was very grim as he drew his sword, taking care to make no sound. "I'm sorry," he mouthed to her.

She realized he meant to confront the band approaching. He would fight them, outnumbered, to give her a chance to run. She wanted to weep for his courage, but she could not indulge in her emotions now. She must not waste the gift of his life. She must be ready to run faster than she had ever run before.

His hand gripped her arm above the elbow, tightening too hard. Both tense, they waited.

Then the men were upon them, striding hard and purposefully.

The guardsman shoved Elandra so hard she stumbled and nearly fell, and flung himself in the path of the men.

"Hold!" snapped a voice. "We're friends, you fool."

"My lady, wait!"

But Elandra was already spinning around, breathless with relief to see the red cloaks of the Imperial Guard looming out of the shadows. Their swords were b.l.o.o.d.y. Their eyes were blazing and brutal.

Her guardsman spoke to them rapidly, reporting to the sergeant in command. He pointed at Elandra, who returned to his side with as much dignity as she could muster.

"I must be at the side of the emperor," she said, making her voice sound far more steady and a.s.sured than she really was. "What has happened?"

"We've no time to waste on this. Reinforcements must be got through to the eastern side of the palace," the sergeant said, his gaze sliding past her impatiently to the guardsman. "Can you get us there?"

"Aye, but I'm responsible for her Majesty."

The sergeant scowled. "Where's the protector?"

His impatience angered Elandra. She glared at him. "My protector is dead, killed defending my life."

Their eyes flickered, and for a moment they were human beings again, chastened and respectful.

"d.a.m.ned savages," the sergeant muttered. "We'll have to split up-"

Another group of guardsmen joined them, taut and wild-looking, bringing some of their wounded with them.

"Move on!" one shouted. "We're falling back. The central part of the palace is lost. They've started to loot now."