Shalador's Lady

parlor this evening,” Talon said. “Archerr, you’ll relay instructions to Burne and Haele. Cayle, you’ll keep Radley informed.”
    *I’m your second-in-command,* Ranon said, using a tight spear thread to direct the words only to Talon.
    *I know what you are,* Talon replied sharply. *You have the task of keeping Gray and the Black Widow leashed. And yourself.*
    Shit. *You don’t ask for much.*
    *If you don’t have the balls for it, tell me now.*
    Stung by the verbal slap, Ranon didn’t answer.
    “What about Powell?” Archerr asked.
    “I’ll keep the Steward informed,” Talon said.
    *What did Powell say?* Ranon asked, wondering if anyone else had noticed a slight hesitation in Talon’s reply.
    *Later.* “Our Queen is distressed. The visitors are the reason. We need to find out why.”
    “How does Kermilla know Lady Cassidy?” Spere asked.
    “I can’t see that the two of them have anything in common except caste,” Shaddo said.
    “She reminds me of a carrion eater picking at the bones,” Bardric said.
    Shaddo nodded. “And Dena Nehele is the bones. We’ve seen bitches like her before.”
    “She’s entertaining,” Cayle said. “And she’s false. You can see it in her eyes. What’s she looking for here?”
    Archerr snorted. “Control over the rest of us. What else?”
    “If she did have that control?” Talon asked.
    Ice swept through Ranon, but a steely look from Talon kept him silent.
    The other men shifted their feet and looked uncomfortable. Finally Spere said, “Those escorts aren’t fighters. Got some training—every escort does—but they’re Warlords, not Warlord Princes.”
    Shaddo nodded. “Take them out fast and hard. Have someone coming in behind the others who is strong enough to take out the witch—burst heart and brain with a blast of power that will break her Jewels and finish the kill.”
    Ranon swallowed hard. He thought he’d been the only one thinking along those lines. Apparently not.
    Talon nodded, as if they’d told him what he’d expected. “Not yet. She’s a Queen from another Territory. Another Realm. We made the mistake of not looking for social connections to dark power when Cassidy first came here. Kermilla keeps hinting that she has powerful friends, so let’s not make that mistake again. Cayle, Bardric, you two are least likely to be perceived as a threat, so I want you to spend time with the Warlords who came with Kermilla. Find out what you can about her court and about her connection to Cassidy. They’re not friends, so let’s find out exactly what they are to each other.”
    “We could force open the inner barriers of the lightest Jeweled Warlord and find out everything we want to know,” Archerr said quietly.
    “And become no better than what we fought against all those years?” Talon shook his head. “You don’t do that to anyone but an enemy, and we don’t know yet that these men are enemies.”
    “We know their presence is upsetting Cassidy,” Ranon said.
    “Yes, we know that,” Talon agreed.
    Ranon heard regret—and maybe a little guilt?—in Talon’s voice.
    “When we find out more, we’ll decide what to do about it,” Talon continued. “That’s all. Any information you find out comes to me or Ranon.”
    “And we don’t mention any of this to Theran?” Spere asked.
    Even in the dark, Ranon saw the sadness in Talon’s eyes.
    “We don’t mention this to Theran,” Talon said. “I’m hoping it’s just lust that’s making him stupid, but if he feels the same pull for Kermilla that we feel for Cassidy, we can’t trust him to stand for the Queen he promised to serve.”
    One by one, the men wrapped themselves in sight shields and slipped away until Ranon and Talon were alone.
    “Powell,” Ranon said quietly. “He said something. That’s why you’re giving these orders.” He waited. “What did he say?”
    “He said, ‘It’s starting to feel like old times, isn’t it?’ And may the Darkness have mercy on us, Ranon, I think he’s right.”
    Talon walked away.
    Ranon leaned against the shed, feeling sick.
    It wouldn’t come to that. It wouldn’t . Not while Cassidy ruled Dena Nehele.

    Theran sat in the parlor, happier than he had ever been.
    Kermilla was wonderful, was everything he dreamed a Queen should be. The sound of her voice quenched a raging thirst inside him, and there was a spot on her neck that had a scent that aroused him and yet gave him peace.
    She had been careful not to say anything