Shalador's Lady

“Gray will have a fit if you pick up a weeding claw,” Shira said. “And so will I.”



Cassidy huffed. “There’s too much feeling. I need todo something.” Shira eyed Reyhana, who looked confused about what she was supposed to do.



“Do you play drums?” Shira asked Reyhana.



The girl shook her head. “But I’m supposed to start learning. Shalador Queens all learn to drum.”



“I’m not a Tradition Keeper,” Shira said, “but I’ve been drumming since I was a girl. I can start teaching the basics to both of you.”



“But we don’t have drums,” Cassidy said.



“We do have a wooden table,” Shira replied, pointing at the table in front of the sofa. “And tonight, that’s all we need.”



EBON ASKAVI



Saetan signed his name to the message, then waited for the ink to dry before folding the paper and sealing it.



Daemon had asked to be informed of anything to do with a Dharo witch named Kermilla. Having two of her escorts show up at the Keep, wanting assistance to go through the Gate and return home, certainly qualified as something of interest—especially since heknew those men hadn’t gone through this particular Gate to get to Terreille. Granted, there were thirteen Gates that linked the three Realms, and those men could have used any of them—except this one and the one that was next to the Hall—without causing too much interest in their business. And granted, there weren’t many Priestesses left in Terreille who knew how to open the Gates to let someone move from one Realm to another, so this was the best choice if someone wanted to get back to Kaeleer and not mistakenly end up in Hell.



But Daemon’s interest in this witch sounded a warning inside Saetan because it carried the feel of a predator analyzing potential prey. And Daemon’s refusal to say why he wanted information sounded a more ominous warning—because there was only one person who could muzzle Daemon Sadi.



What did Jaenelle know?



He couldn’t ask—and didn’t need to.



He folded the paper, melted the black wax, and added a touch of Black power as he pressed the SaDiablo seal into the wax. Black to Black ensured that this would be a private message, since Daemon was the only person who could open it.



His task completed, he placed the message in the basket with the rest of the mail that would be collected in the morning and taken to the message station.



Then he went to his suite and vanished everything from the surface of his desk. He placed a small wooden frame in the center of the desk and called in several spools of spider silk, different weights.



Since he could not ask Jaenelle or Daemon for answers about Kermilla, he would find his own answers. After all, he, too, was a Black Widow—one of only two males in the history of the Blood who belonged to that caste.



So during the silent, dark hours, Prince Saetan Daemon SaDiablo, High Priest of the Hourglass, spun his own tangled web of dreams and visions.



CHAPTER 15



TERREILLE



Ranon rode up to the Queen’s Residence, dismounted, and gave his horse a pat.



Most mornings this past week, he’d loaded the horse and gear into the two-horse livestock Coach and headed out to one of the other Shalador reserves to ride through a village or two. He’d listened to the elders and Tradition Keepers, answered questions about things they had heard about the Rose Queen—and assured them that he, Shalador’s only adult Warlord Prince, had heard Cassidy give Shalador’s heart back to the people.



Today, he’d been assigned the ride through Eyota. It lifted his heart to see the people he’d grown up with smile and raise a hand in greeting when a member of a Queen’s court rode by. That had never happened before in anyone’s memory. He would never admit it, but every day he gave silent thanks to Theran Grayhaven for being enough of an ass to send Cassidy running so that she ended up here, among the people who needed her the most.



A quick psychic probe told him the only people in the house were Powell, Talon, and Vae, which meant Cassidy and Gray weren’t back from their planned ride, and Shira wasn’t back from her inspection of the nearby cottages. She wanted a Healer’s House—a place where she could take care of people without intruding on Cassidy’s privacy. There was only one other fully qualified Healer in Eyota, so even though Shira was supposed to be the court’s Healer, she and Cassidy agreed to expand that to the court and their families.



He flicked an “I’m home” thought along a psychic thread aimed at Shira’s sharp, loving—and sometimes dangerous—mind.



*Almost done myself,* Shira replied.



*Find anything?*



*Maybe.*



But she sounded more resigned than excited, so he didn’t press her. Besides, the sound of another horse had him turning, his temper instinctively sharpening as Shaddo rode up to the Queen’s Residence.



It was a Warlord Prince’s nature to rise to the killing edge. Since coming to Eyota, all of them had discovered that their instincts were more keenly honed when they were around their Queen or her home. Even with each other, there was still a bristling moment when temper was poised between predatory instinct and conscious loyalty to the Queen and their Brothers in the court.



Watching Shaddo, who made no move, Ranon nodded to acknowledge that he had his temper leashed.



“Anything?” he asked. Shaddo had spent the day in the western Province where his wife and boys had lived, riding through a couple of villages to see who might want to talk to a member of Cassidy’s First Circle.



“Lots of circling around questions no one was brave enough to ask,” Shaddo replied, dismounting. “But everyone is interested in the special magic Queens can do to help the harvest. And I ran into a handful of Warlord Princes. I had the feeling they hadn’t met up in that particular village by chance.”



“Does that mean trouble for us?”



Shaddo shook his head. “I think . . . Hell’s fire, Ranon, remember when Cassidy first talked about having the Warlord Princes step up and rule on behalf of the Territory Queen because there weren’t many Queens left in Dena Nehele?”



“At least not many living in the open or having a visible court,” Ranon said. In the past few days, Powell had received tentative messages from men in a dozen villages, all asking if they could see this special magic. Reading between the lines, there were Queens out there who wanted to learn but weren’t willing to trust their lives and what little structure was left in Dena Nehele to a Queen who was still unknown. But men who served those Queens would come to watch and learn—and report back to their Ladies.



“Basically, they wanted to know how Cassidy would respond if they divided a Province based on who was available ‘to rule on behalf of the Queen.’ ”



“I think she’d be relieved to have the Warlord Princes rule whatever the surviving Queens couldn’t handle,” Ranon said. Or didn’t want to handle because it would call attention to themselves.



“I told them the Steward was trying to figure out how to divide the Provinces into Districts, but he was working blind because he didn’t know how many of the Warlord Princes were willing to step up to the line and help their people.”



Ranon winced. “Those words must have stung.”



Shaddo shook his head. “They didn’t, and that surprised me too since I’d meant them to sting. But word is spreading about what Cassidy did for the Shaladorans—and about her going into landen villages as well as Blood to do that special magic. Every man who had fought in the uprisings wanted to know how we could let her do something that dangerous.”



“I hope you told them we don’tlet her do anything,” Ranon grumbled.



Wasn’t much of a grumble. Cassie might chafe at the boundaries the First Circle set for her protection, but the men were smart enough to keep expanding those boundaries as they settled down to a life here in Eyota. Besides, according to the Protocol Powell was studying every night, even the First Circle’s right to protect the Queen had some limits.



“Papa! Papa!”



Ranon felt Shaddo’s fierce joy as his two boys came running toward them, but he also saw the stern face and the hand quickly raised to stop them.



“What did I tell you about running toward horses?” Shaddo said.



“Don’t do it.” Eliot, the younger one, scuffed one shoe on the street.



“Can we walk the horses to the stables?” Eryk asked. “We’ll be careful.”



Saying nothing, Ranon handed his reins to Shaddo.



“You can walk them,” Shaddo said. “And then we’ll all take care of them.”



“Yes, sir.”



Hearing an odd whistle on the “s,” Ranon studied Eliot. “Someone lost a tooth.”



Eliot grinned, showing off the gap. “Mother is making a special tooth treat.”



Eryk muttered something and looked sulky.



Eliot scowled. “She made special treats foryou when you lost a tooth.” “I didn’t knock one out to get a treat,” Eryk said, just loud enough to assure the men heard him.



“I didnot knock it out,” Eliot said.



“Did to.”



“Did not!”



“Did—”



“Boys,”Shaddo said.



They obeyed the tone instantly.



*I’m impressed,* Ranon said, trying not to grin.



*Yeah, well, having me around all the time is still new to them,* Shaddo replied. *I figure the pissing contests will start soon enough.*



He watched Shaddo and the boys until they went into the stables. Then he smiled.



Tomorrow was a rest day, thank the Darkness. No work, no traveling, nothing but his woman and a sweet summer day. Maybe Cassidy and Gray would be interested in riding over to Mariel’s Pond to swim and have a picnic. Or maybe he and Shira would go alone so they could have long talks and sweet kisses before coming back to their room for a different kind of talking and kisses that were hot instead of sweet.



With those thoughts in mind, he turned to go into the Residence to get a glass of ale and see if there was anything in the larder.