He lifted his own wineglass and toasted her. «But it will work. By morning, the Ard Rhys will be a memory and all the talk will be of you, the new Ard Rhys. I know something of how this works, Shadea. I know because it happened to me when I coveted the position of Prime Minister. The order will be frightened and confused. It will be looking for direction and for someone to supply it. No one else has the backing you possess. The matter will be settled quickly. I salute you, Ard Rhys to be.»
She ignored his patronizing, wondering how she could find out who had given him the potion. She would find out, she had decided. But short of torturing him on the spot, she would not find out immediately. She would have to bide her time, something at which she had gotten quite good.
«Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Prime Minister.» She finished the wine and set down her glass. «What will you do when the news comes? Stay or go?»
«I will depart immediately, the expected reaction for a head of state when someone as important as the Ard Rhys disappears. It will give you a chance to consolidate your power before we have our meeting to arrange an alliance. Perhaps by then you will have discovered evidence of Free–born participation in the matter, and I will be able to use that discovery as a lever for pressing the war.»
«Something you intend to do by any means possible.» She made it a statement of fact.
He smiled. «The fortunes of war are about to change for the Free–born and their allies, Shadea. With your support, the change will come about much more quickly.»
She nodded. The room, with its rich smells and opulent feel, was beginning to wear on her. As was this fool. «We have our understanding, Prime Minister. No need to discuss it again. No need to talk further at all, this night. Do you have it?»
He rose and walked to the bookcase at the far side of the room, moved several of the books aside, and extracted a small glass bottle with its stopper set firmly in place. The contents of the bottle were as black as a moonless night. Nothing of the room's light reflected from the surface of either the bottle or its contents.
«Liquid night,' he declared, and handed her the bottle.
She took it gingerly and studied it a moment. The liquid night had an opaque texture to it that reminded her of chalk or black earth. It made her feel decidedly uneasy.
She looked back at him. «This is all there is?»
«A little is all that is needed. Nevertheless, use the whole of it. Do it while she sleeps. Do not let even a single drop touch your skin. Then carry the bottle away and destroy it. There will be no trace of what has happened, no sign of anything different. But the Ard Rhys will be gone. As if she had never been.»
«You make it sound so easy,' Shadea said, giving him a sharp look.
«It will be easy, if you do it right.» He stared back at her. «You will be able to do it right, Shadea, won't you?»
«If there is any treachery attached to this gift, Prime Minister,' she said carefully, «it will come home to roost on your doorstep.»
He reached over for a set of notes he had been writing and began leafing through them. «A word of caution. The Ard Rhys has a brother who possesses the gift, as well. His magic is said to be the equal of hers. You might want to consider what he will do when he discovers that his sister is missing. I understand he went through quite a lot to save her during that airship journey west twenty years back, when he discovered they were related. If not for him, she would still be the Ilse Witch. That makes her an investment he might not be quick to give up on.»
«He has little contact with her these days,' she replied irritably. «He has little to do with her at all.»
He shrugged. «Sometimes a little is all that is necessary where families are concerned. Brothers and sisters are funny that way. You, of all people, should understand that.» His smile was smug and indulgent. «It just seems to me that where a potential problem exists, you would be smart to find a solution early.»
He studied her momentarily, then lowered his gaze to his notes. «Good night, Shadea. Good luck.»
She held her ground a moment longer, thinking how easy it would be to kill him. Then she tucked the bottle into her dark robes, turned away without another word, touched the wall to release the hidden catch, and left him behind.
FIVE
When she was behind the wall panel and out of Sen Dunsidan's room, Shadea a'Ru stood in the darkness of the passageway beyond and breathed deeply to calm herself. Any encounter with the Prime Minister was unsettling, but it was the task that lay ahead of her that gave her pause now. She touched the hard outline of the bottle inside her robes, to reassure herself that it was safely under her control, then gathered her thoughts. It would have to be done that night, while the Ard Rhys slept. She believed herself safe in her chambers, and she had been until that night. Rock Trolls under the command of Kermadec stood at her doorway day and night, and her own magic warded the chamber against intruders. The passageways that honeycombed the Keep behind its stone walls had been closed off long ago so that, aside from the windows, there was only one way in or out.
But Shadea had found a way to get around all that. The Rock Trolls outside the door were of no use if the attack came from within, which it would. The magic that warded the chamber was of no use if the attack was not something it could protect against, and in this case it wasn't. Finally, although the passageways had been closed off some time back, Shadea had opened a few very recently in expectation of what was planned for that night. She had started with the passageway leading to Sen Dunsidan's quarters, so that they could meet secretly. She had ended with the passageway that led to the chambers of the Ard Rhys. The latter had taken her nearly two weeks because not only was it physically sealed, but it was warded with magic, as well. She had broken down that magic, a painfully slow process, then restored it at its perimeter to give the appearance of still being intact.
She stared into the darkness around her, her eyes adjusting, her thoughts settling. Everything was in place. Everything was as ready as it was ever going to be. Her careful planning and preparation were about to be rewarded.
She allowed herself a fierce, predatory smile and started walking.
Shadea a'Ru had experienced a hard life, but she thought her self the better for having survived its vicissitudes and misfortunes. Surviving had made her strong of body and tough of mind. With out those attributes, she would not be where she was, planning to accomplish something that others could only muse about privately. Terek Molt aside, all the others had enjoyed privileged upbringings with advantages that she had never even come close to enjoying. She didn't resent it or feel cheated because of it; she reveled in it.
She was orphaned by the age of eight, her mother dead in childbirth and her father killed on the Prekkendorran. Shadea and her siblings were separated and sent to live with the families of various relatives, but she ran away at ten and never saw any of them again. She was big for her age and initially awkward, but she was always strong. As she grew, the awkwardness disappeared and her strength increased. She lived in the streets of Dechtera for five years, staying alive by her wits and her daring and the occasional kindness of others.
At fifteen, already close to six feet tall and the physical equal of anyone her age, she began hanging out at the Federation barracks, doing odd jobs for the soldiers. A few thought to test her resistance to their unwanted advances, for she was striking by then, but after they discovered she not only was big and strong but knew how to fight, they left her alone. A few took the time to teach her to use weapons. She was a quick study and naturally gifted. By the time she was twenty, she was already more accomplished than the men she had learned from. At twenty–four, she had served two years on the front lines of the Prekkendorran and gained the respect of everyone who knew about her.
She met the cripple the following year. He was of indeterminate origin, so gnarled and deformed that it was impossible to label his Race. She never learned his name, but names were never important in their relationship. He was a practitioner of the magic arts, primarily a weaver of spells. He was infatuated with her for reasons she never fully understood, and he was willing to trade what he knew for the pleasure of her company. It was an easy bargain for her to make. She stayed with him only one year, time that passed so quickly that in retrospect it always seemed impossible to her that it had really been that long. His health was already failing when they met, and by the end of the year he was dead. But before he died, he taught her what he knew about magic, which was considerable. He was a teacher in search of a student, but he was careful in making his choices. He must have
