The Shadow's heir

10

A Price

Back in her room, Laela slumped onto the bed. She couldn’t stop herself from shuddering.

He was drunk, she told herself. He was talkin’ nonsense. I ain’t like him. And I ain’t goin’ to Amoran with him, either.

The dream came back to her, and she shivered again. Gods, but it had felt so real. And what if it was real?

No. The idea was ridiculous. Why would Gryphus want to talk to her, anyway?

An’ even if it was real, it’s still ridiculous, she thought. Me, kill the Dark Lord? How’d I even do it?

And she didn’t want to do it, either. She was afraid of him, true-horribly afraid. But she couldn’t bring herself to hate him. He was too. . sad to hate. Deep down, she had long since realised that the man she was living with wasn’t the warrior of darkness people saw him as. Not any more. He was past his prime: weak and indecisive, full of regrets he was obviously trying to drown in wine-and failing. She couldn’t hate a man like that, and killing him felt like little more than cowardice.

Assuming it was even possible.

As she lay there, thinking it over, she remembered something Gryphus had said to her.

But you did pray to me once. A prayer offered up in terror and despair, but a true prayer nonetheless. . You prayed to me for protection. . and help came.

A slow smile spread over her face. “Yeah,” she said aloud. “I prayed to yeh for help, an’ help came. But not from you.”

After Laela had fled, Arenadd staggered back to his private chambers. He felt sick and dizzy, and once or twice he nearly fell over, but he made it back and locked himself up in his room, where he sank into his chair and poured himself another cup of wine.

It made him feel a little better.

He sat forward, resting his forehead on his hand.

Why would she want to go to Amoran with him, anyway? There was no reason for her to want to. And there was certainly no reason for her to want to be his friend.

He picked up his cup and wandered into Skandar’s nest. It was empty, and he clambered over the nesting material and out onto the balcony.

Alone, he looked up into the sky and saw the half-moon glowing among the clouds.

“Damn you,” he growled. “Damn you. I served you, and you betrayed me. You took Skade. You sent me back. All I wanted was for you to let me die, but you sent me back. Sent me back here, trapped me in this hideous body again. You betrayed me.”

He hurled the cup away with all his strength, at the sky-at the moon.

“You betrayed me!” he screamed. “Damn you, let me die!”

There was no reply, but he clenched his fists and continued to shout, hurling his curses at the moon with all his strength until something in him snapped, and he simply screamed.

The scream went on for a long time, a primal sound, full of agony and hatred.

Afterward, the silence seemed deafening.

Arenadd fell to his knees, as if his exhaustion were forcing him to abase himself before his mistress once again.

“Damn. . you,” he gasped. “I won’t do it. I won’t. I don’t care what I told you. I won’t invade the South. I won’t kill any more. I don’t care what you do to me.”

He fell silent, panting as he calmed down.

Then, without any warning, a slow and horrible grin appeared on his face.

“I’ll have my revenge on you,” he said softly. “Oh yes, I’ll make you pay. I can do it, and now I know how.”

The grin widened, and madness gleamed in his eyes as it all unfolded in his mind-as if it had been there all along, just waiting to show itself.

“Yes,” he hissed to himself. “Oh yes. Yeeesss. .”

And he laughed.

“Oh I know what to do now. I know how. . oh yes. She’s the key.”

He stood up and dusted himself down in a dignified fashion before returning inside.

There, he picked up the wine jug, took it out onto the balcony, and poured the contents off the edge.

After that, he took the wine-barrel from under the bed, rolled it out into the audience chamber, and left it there. The servants could remove it in the morning.

“No more wine,” he told himself. “No more drinking. No more trying to hide.”

Back in his room, he took off his boots, robe, and trousers and put them aside before opening a chest and bringing out a nightshirt.

He hadn’t worn it in months, and the cloth smelled stale, but he put it on anyway and snuffed out the lamp before climbing into his bed. It, too, was dusty and unused.

It felt more comfortable than he remembered its ever being in the past.

He snuggled down under the blankets, his mind exploding with ideas as it had not done in many long years. He even felt excited.

“You’ll come with me to Amoran, Laela,” he murmured to the darkness. “You’ll come because I’ll order you to come. And after we get back, you’ll stay with me. Every day, whether you like it or not. I’ll see to it that you learn all you need to know. And the Night God won’t be able to stop us, and neither will Saeddryn.”

He grinned wolfishly to himself and drifted off to sleep.

Arenadd’s new feeling of determination and purpose was still there when he woke up, and it made the day feel much brighter. He enjoyed his customary bath and gave his hair the usual thorough brushing and combing before neatening up his beard and dressing in his favourite robe. That done, he called some servants to remove the wine-barrel, and then went for breakfast. The servants looked openly surprised when he asked them for food, and again when he ate it.

After he’d eaten, he went to see Laela. The girl looked frightened and resentful at the sight of him, but he had rehearsed what he was going to say and wasted no time in saying it.

“Listen, I’m sorry about last night,” he said. “I haven’t been myself lately. And quite honestly, I drink too much. Now, about Amoran-”

She avoided his eyes. “Yes, Sire?”

“You’re coming with me,” he said. “And that is not a request. Also,” he went on, as she opened her mouth to protest, “I’m going to arrange for some more lessons for you. These won’t be as. . cerebral as the ones you’re having now.”

“What are they, Sire?”

“You’re going to learn how to fight,” said Arenadd. “You mentioned that you already know how to use the short sword you brought with you, and that’s good, but if you’re going to become a Northerner, then you need to learn how to use one of our weapons. And you’ll find that the sickle handles quite differently. You’ll also learn how to use a bow, and how to fight hand to hand. I won’t have my new companion be helpless when there’s danger.”

Laela’s blue eyes gleamed. “That’s fine by me, Sire. I mean, I’d like to learn how t’fight, like.”

“And you will. I’ll assign someone to do that once we get back from Amoran.”

“Yes, Sire.” She paused. “Thanks, Sire. I’m grateful for that. An’ I’m sorry how I was last night. I was rude, an’ I shouldn’t have been.”