"I won't stay here and watch him look at you like that."

"Then go back to your wife, Kirsh," she said harshly.

Kirsh could not believe the change in her. He refused to believe it. "Why are you acting like this?

What has he done to you, Marqel?"

"He's acknowledged me as the High Priestess of the Shadowdancers," she retorted. "He's made me his mistress, and he doesn't care who knows it. I'm somebody now, Kirsh. I don't have to sneak around, or hide away and fear I'm going to be discovered. I don't have to serve anybody and I don't have to pretend I'm something I'm not. Come and see me again when you can offer me the same. In the meantime, go back to your little wife and rule her little country for her. I've got more important things to worry about than the jealous son of a man who holds me above all others except the G.o.ddess!"

Kirsh stared at her speechlessly for a moment, stunned by her callousness.

And then without another word, he turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

The following morning Kirshov Latanya announced to his father he wished to supervise the search of the Dhevynian islands personally. Antonov granted his permission gladly, and by first sunrise, he was back on the Tsarina sailing for Kalarada, leaving Avacas, Marqel and all the splinters of his brokenheart behind him.

Chapter 34.

Marqel managed to avoid Dirk for several days after he and Kirsh returned from Mil. Now that Antonov was willing to have her at his side, the business of statecraft was enough to keep her occupied.

She saw him frequently, but it was always with Antonov or someone else present, which saved her from having to deal with him.

She discovered Eryk in the palace a few days after they returned. Her first impulse was to brush the little toad aside. She had no need to pretend friendship with him now. But then it occurred to her that n.o.body was closer to Dirk Provin, and now that he was back in the palace, the half-wit would be an excellent source of intelligence about what the Lord of the Shadows was up to. She had learned that much while a prisoner in the Hall of Shadows. It paid to have people on your side, and Eryk, thanks to their last encounter, was firmly convinced Marqel was a good and trusted friend.

Waiting until she was sure Dirk was downstairs with Antonov, Marqel knocked on Dirk's door and was rather surprised when a chubby blond girl, rather than Eryk opened the door.

"Who are you?"

"Who are you?" the girl responded tartly.

"I am the High Priestess of the Shadowdancers," Marqel declared haughtily. The girl visibly crumpled before her.

"Marqel!"

Eryk's delighted greeting prevented her from fully savoring the reaction of the blonde. She changed her scowl to a smile, and pushed past the hapless girl to embrace Eryk warmly.

"Oh, Eryk! I'm so glad to see you safe."

"Me too!" he told her happily, as he wriggled out of her embrace uncomfortably, and turned to point at the blonde. "This is Caterina. She's Dirk's prisoner."

"His prisoner, eh?" she asked, eyeing the girl critically. "A bit hefty for Dirk's tastes, aren't you? He prefers them taller, too, I thought."

The girl was too stunned by the importance of their guest to be offended.

"She's not that sort of prisoner," Eryk explained, rolling his eyes.

"What other sort is there?"

"I'm his hostage, my lady," Caterina told her, dropping into a deep and rather ungainly curtsy.

On hearing that news, Marqel lost interest in the girl. If she was Dirk's hostage, for whatever reason, then he would not allow her to come to any harm, and he certainly wouldn't get attached to her, which meant she was of no use whatsoever to Marqel.

"Leave us!" Marqel ordered. "I wish to visit with my good friend Eryk."

"Where shall I go, my lady?" Caterina asked.

"Out!" she snapped. "After that I don't really care."

"She's not allowed to leave, Marqel," Eryk told her. His face creased with concern, and she realizedDirk might not be attached to his hostage, but Eryk certainly was. She immediately changed her tack and smiled at Caterina.

"Then far be it from me to get you into trouble, Caterina. Why don't you join us?"

"Are you sure, my lady?"

"Of course I'm sure." Marqel glanced at Eryk and noticed his frown had turned back into a beaming smile.

"Didn't I tell you she was really nice?" he said to Caterina.

The girl nodded as she perched nervously on the edge of the settee. Marqel took the seat opposite and patted the s.p.a.ce beside her for Eryk. "Come now, I want to hear all about your adventures, Eryk.

What are you doing back here in the palace? Weren't you a pirate or something?"

"Sort of. But I surrendered to Prince Kirsh and he said it wasn't my fault I got caught up with such bad company and he let me go back to serving Lord Dirk."

"You're very fortunate it was Kirsh who found you." She treated him to a conspiratorial smile. "He probably remembers it was you who told me Dirk was safe the last time we met in Nova. He never forgets a favor."

Eryk nodded in agreement, her explanation fitting perfectly with his innocent view of the world. That Kirsh had no idea Marqel had seen Eryk in Nova was something Eryk didn't need to know, and now with Kirsh returned to Kalarada, he wasn't ever likely to find out about it, either.

"Are you really the High Priestess now, Marqel?"

"I certainly am," she a.s.sured him. She held out her arm to display a stunning bracelet inlaid with row upon row of diamonds. "Look. The Lion of Senet gave me this himself."

"You're still a wh.o.r.e, Marqel. It's just the price that's gone up."

She jumped with fright when she realized Dirk was standing behind her. She hadn't even heard him come in.

"Eryk," he said, before she had time to respond, "why don't you take Caterina down to the kitchens and find some lunch? Tell the guards on the door I said it was all right. The High Priestess and I have some things we need to discuss."

As usual, the boy obeyed Dirk without question. Caterina seemed just as thrilled to escape her presence. The two of them hurried from the room, leaving Dirk alone with Marqel. She rose to her feet and glared at him.

"How dare you speak to me like that in front of others!"

"How foolish of me," he agreed. "We wouldn't want word to get around the place I despise you, now, would we? What are you doing in my room? Surely you're not bored with Antonov already, and turning your attention to poor Eryk."

"Eryk thinks I'm his friend."

"Which just proves he's not very bright. What did you say to Kirsh that made him take off for Kalarada so abruptly?"

She shrugged uncomfortably. "I told him I didn't need him anymore now that I have his father."

He shook his head in amazement. "You really have a gift for letting people down gently, don't you?"

"Don't you lecture me about being nice to him! You're the one who suggested I should dump him so I could be Antonov's mistress.""And you're the one who grabbed at the suggestion with both hands," he reminded her. "Still, it's probably not a bad thing that he's gone. Kirsh moping about the palace getting all hot and bothered about what's going on in his father's bedroom is a complication we're well rid of. Have you seen Paige Halyn in the last few days?"

Marqel shook her head. She had trouble keeping up with Dirk's lightning-fast questions at times.

"Master Daranski won't let anyone near him since the wound got infected. I hear he's almost dead."

"He can't die," Dirk said. "Not for another three days."

"He can die anytime he wants for all I care," she shrugged. "Once he's dead, Madalan will go to Bollow and I'll finally be rid of her. Speaking of that miserable old sow, can you do something about her? She's driving me insane with all this stuff she keeps sending me. I'm the High Priestess. I shouldn't have to deal with that sort of thing. That's what I have minions like you for."

Dirk smiled, which was a rare thing for him to do in her presence. "I'll take care of it. You won't be bothered by paperwork anymore."

That was easy, she thought contentedly. The power of being Antonov's mistress was enough to cow even the mighty Dirk Provin, it seemed.

"And you have to tell her I'm staying here in the palace. Antonov needs me."

"That didn't take you long."

"I'm very good at what I do, Dirk," she reminded him smugly. "As you should know."

"Just don't forget you're the High Priestess first, and his plaything second. Even Antonov will get suspicious if you don't make some attempt to pretend you're actually doing something other than s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g him."

"You leave Antonov to me and go take care of the rest of it, Dirk. Can I go now?" She regretted the question as soon as she asked it. She didn't need his permission to come and go in the palace. Not anymore.

"You can go. Just stay away from Eryk. He's got enough trouble without having you for a friend."

"Like having you for a friend, for instance?"

"Get out."

Satisfied at least one of her barbs had hit its mark, she walked to the door and opened it, unable to resist one last taunt. "You know, I hope the Lord of the Suns doesn't die. I hope the old b.a.s.t.a.r.d lingers on for years, because then you'll have to put up with Madalan b.l.o.o.d.y Tirov looking over your shoulder, all day, every day, and she might leave me alone."

Marqel slammed the door before Dirk could respond, feeling rather pleased with herself.

The feeling did not last long, however.

Paige Halyn lingered for barely another four days before Antonov was woken in the early hours of the morning by a messenger from Master Daranski. Marqel wandered out of the bedroom, rubbing her eyes sleepily, in time to hear the messenger inform the Lion of Senet that the Lord of the Suns was dead.

Chapter 35

Paige Halyn's will was delivered from the Tabernacle at the Temple in Bollow to the Hall of Shadows nearly two weeks after he died. By then his funeral was over, but there was a feeling of antic.i.p.ation in Avacas as the city held its breath, waiting to hear who the next Lord or Lady of the Suns would be.

Although the rise of Belagren and the Shadowdancers had seriously undermined Paige Halyn's authority, Belagren had been far too clever to cut herself off completely from the established religion of Senet. That was why she had suffered the indignity of being nominally subordinate to the Lord of the Suns all through her reign. Antonov was a devout man and would never have followed a breakaway religion, but a cult that-on the surface at least-enjoyed the tacit approval of his church was far easier to accept.

They gathered in the main temple of the Hall of Shadows for the reading, the ceremony restricted to Shadowdancers and the sizable contingent of Sundancers who had arrived from Bollow. Even Antonov was not permitted to attend. This was church business and out of his control. A messenger was standing by to deliver the news as soon as the new leader was acclaimed, but until then, the Lion of Senet was no more than another anxious parishioner, awaiting word of the decision like everyone else.

The atmosphere in the Hall of Shadows was one of contained excitement. Somehow, the rumor had spread that Madalan was to be the new Lady of the Suns, and there was an air of gleeful expectancy among the Shadowdancers as they waited for one of their own to finally occupy the ultimate position of power in their church.

Dirk had greeted the delegation from Bollow personally. He did not trust Marqel with anything so delicate. The senior Sundancer who led the delegation was a man named Claudio Varell. He was almost as withered and old as Paige Halyn had been, but he had bright, alert eyes and had been the Lord of the Suns' closest aide for longer than Dirk had been alive.

Dirk greeted him on the steps of the hall with a respectful bow. "Welcome to the Hall of Shadows, my lord. You and your Sundancers are welcome here."

"That would have to be a first," the old man replied testily. "Who are you?"

"I am Dirk Provin, the right hand of the High Priestess."

"You don't wear the robes of a Shadowdancer," he said, looking over Dirk's somber outfit with a frown.

"But I am one, nonetheless, my lord," Dirk a.s.sured him. "My duties are varied, and the High Priestess understands our robes of office sometimes prevent truly harmonious dealings with outsiders when they are constantly being reminded of our closeness to the G.o.ddess."

"You've a slick tongue, too," Lord Varell remarked with a scowl.

"Eloquence is not a skill restricted to the elderly, my lord," Dirk replied with a faint smile. "Shall we proceed? The High Priestess and the rest of the Shadowdancers are waiting for you in the temple. Do you have the will?"

Claudio pointed to a heavily bound wooden chest carried by two Sundancers, who, despite their yellow robes, looked burly enough to be hired guards. Dirk nodded and turned to lead the way through the Hall of Shadows with Lord Varell, the locked chest containing the will, and the fifty or more Sundancers he had brought with him following in his wake. Their number surprised Dirk a little. He didn't think there were that many Sundancers left.

They walked in silence past the exquisite tapestries, past the gilded vases filled with fresh flowers, past all the blatant evidence of the Shadowdancers' wealth. The mood of the Sundancers in his wakegrew increasingly morose as they neared the temple. They all knew the Sundancers had been impoverished to keep the Shadowdancers in such a manner. Dirk stopped when they reached the doors leading into the temple and turned to Lord Varell before he opened them.

"Whatever happens today, my lord," he said, "I want to a.s.sure you I will do everything in my power to see the Lord of the Suns' last wishes are carried out."

"This ceremony shouldn't even be happening here in Avacas," Varell complained. "The traditional place for the reading of the Lord of the Suns' will is the temple in Bollow."

"But I'm sure you'll agree that with the death of the High Priestess and the unfortunate circ.u.mstances of Lord Halyn's death, expedience is more important than tradition."

When Varell did not reply, Dirk turned to open the door.

"Lord Provin."

He glanced back at the old man. "Yes?"

"If things...if things should go against us in there... would you see to it my people get out? Alive."

Dirk looked at him curiously for a moment and then nodded. He decided he liked Claudio Varell.

The old man was a realist.