Queen of the Darkness

barracks, Lucivar had agreed to take twenty males and a dozen females.
    How many of these people would survive the full term of their contracts? he wondered as they hurried toward him with the meager belongings they had been allowed to bring with them. There were other dangers in Kaeleer beyond the ones they expected. And there were the demon-dead. Considering where he was taking them, they would quickly have to come to terms with having the demon-dead walk among them.
    He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Ready?"
    It amused him, but didn't surprise him, when Falonar looked over the group and answered him as if he'd already accepted the man as his second-in-command.
    "We're ready."
----
    2 / Kaeleer
    Daemon Sadi crossed his legs at the knee, steepled his fingers, and rested his long, black-tinted nails against his chin. "What about the Queens in the other Territories?" he asked in his deep, cultured voice.
    Lord Jorval smiled wearily. "As I've explained before, Prince Sadi, the Queens outside of Little Terreille are not eager to accept their Terreillean Brothers and Sisters into their courts, and even the immigrants who do get contracts are made to feel less than welcome."
    "Did you inquire?" Daemon's gold eyes glazed slightly. A stranger or slight acquaintance might have thought he looked tired or bored, but that sleepy look would have terrified anyone who really knew him.
    "I inquired," Jorval said a bit sharply. "The Queens didn't reply."
    Daemon glanced at the four sheets of paper spread out on the desk in front of him. In the past two days, he and Jorval had sat in this room six times. Those sheets of paper, listing the four Queens who were interested in obtaining his services, had been offered to him at the first meeting. They had been the only ones offered.
    Jorval folded his hands and sighed. "You must understand. A Warlord Prince is considered a dangerous asset, even when he wears a lighter Jewel and is serving among his own people. A man with your strength and reputation" He shrugged. "I realize your expectations might be different. The Darkness knows, there are so many who have an unrealistic idea of life in Kaeleer. But I can assure you, Prince, that having four Queens who are willing to accept the challenge of having you serve in their courts for the next five years is unusual—and not an opportunity that should be brushed aside."
    Daemon didn't give any indication that the warning had been felt as much as a physical jab would have been. No, he couldn't brush aside the narrow choices if he wanted to stay in Kaeleer. But he wasn't sure he could stomach any of those women long enough to do what he had originally come here to do. And he couldn't help wondering how large a gift Jorval would receive from whichever Queen he chose.
    Suddenly it was too much: the lack of sleep, the pressure to make an unpalatable choice, the nerves that were strained because of what he had planned to do—and the questions that had arisen from the gossip he had sifted through as he walked around the service fair.
    "I'll consider them and let you know," Daemon said, moving toward the door with the graceful speed that tended to make people think of a feline predator.
    "Prince Sadi," Jorval called sharply.
    Daemon stopped at the door and turned.
    "The last bell will ring in less than an hour. If you haven't made a choice by then, you will no longer have a choice. You will have to accept whatever offer is made or leave Kaeleer."
    "I'm aware of that, Lord Jorval," Daemon said too softly.
    He left the building, slipped his hands into his trouser pockets, and began walking aimlessly.
    He despised Lord Jorval. There was something about the man's psychic scent, something tainted. And there were too many things hidden behind the dark, flat eyes. From the moment he'd met Jorval, he'd had to fight against the instinctive desire to rise to the killing edge and tuck the thin Warlord into a deep, secret grave.
    Why had Lord Magstrom handed him over to Jorval?
    He had talked to the elderly man briefly when he arrived in Goth late on the third day of the fair and had been cautiously willing to trust the man's judgment. When he had expressed his desire to serve in a court outside of Little Terreille, Magstrom's blue eyes had twinkled with amusement.
    The Queens outside of Little Terreille are very selective in their choices, Magstrom had said. But they do have an advantage for a man like you — they know how to handle dark-Jeweled