Lord of the Shadows (31 page)

irk had listened to Madalan Tirov's declaration that he was too young to assume the mantle of the Lord of the Suns with a feeling of stunned disbelief. He had thought this through so carefully. He had covered every eventuality—so he thought.

But this … to be thwarted by something so simple …

He couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe everything was lost. The events he had set in motion would all be for nothing if he wasn't standing beside Marqel on the day of the eclipse as Lord of the Suns. If he failed in his bid to be appointed to the ultimate position of power in the Church, he was nothing more than Dirk Provin, bastard son of Johan Thorn and his paramour, Morna Provin. He would no longer enjoy the protection of the Church and could not return to the Shadowdancers. Madalan would not give up her role as right hand of the High Priestess a second time.

If he failed, Dirk would be at Antonov's mercy, instead of the other way around. The only people on Ranadon whom Antonov believed capable of interpreting the will of the Goddess were the High Priestess of the Shadowdancers and the Lord of the Suns. Dirk
had
to be there for the eclipse. Everything he had done since he slipped away from Tia to meet Paige Halyn on their way to Omaxin—for that matter, even the suggestion they
go
to Omaxin—had been toward that end.

What had Neris said?
You don't need to kill anyone; you need to kill an idea. That is a much harder thing to do.

But he could only kill the idea by proving the unprovable. By being there in a position of power on the day of the eclipse, when the Goddess showed her will to the world. If he wasn't standing in the wings, ready to step up and take charge, then everything he had done, everything he still needed to do, everyone he had betrayed, everyone who had died because of him… all of it would have been in vain.

Antonov paced the anteroom impatiently while they waited for Claudio to return. The Lion of Senet was furious with the challenge to Dirk's appointment, but far more accepting of the possibility that it might not happen than Dirk was.
That's because he has a backup plan
, Dirk knew. If Antonov couldn't bring Dhevyn to the Goddess by appointing her true king's bastard Lord of the Suns, then he'd make the bastard Dhevyn's next king. Dirk didn't have that luxury. His was an all-or-nothing gamble with no safety net, no fallback position. He either succeeded or he failed.

But despite the number of choices Antonov had, he wasn't happy. He wanted proof of Madalan's claim and had sent Claudio to fetch it.

Dirk truly had no idea what Lord Varell would return with. Was there some charter he knew nothing of that stipulated the Lord of the Suns must be of age under Senetian law? Was there a chapter in the
Book of Ranadon
—written before Belagren came along and started adding her own chapters to it— that laid down the rules?

He knew the Lord of the Suns was appointed by the previous incumbent. He knew the rules that applied to his will and the consequences of tampering with it. But Dirk had never even questioned the issue of age, because it was never supposed to have been a problem. His original timetable was much longer than the one he'd been forced to work to. In Dirk's original plan, Belagren was still alive. Paige Halyn was supposed to have lived for years yet, giving Dirk plenty of time to consolidate his power and his credibility. He'd not counted on Misha being kidnapped, either.

The scope of his design was vast and it should have taken years—not months—to come to fruition.
Was that why Paige Halyn agreed so readily?
Had he known he would soon be dead and Dirk was too young to succeed him? Surely not. Dirk was in this mess because of Marqel's murderous nature, a stray assassin's bolt and a birthday inconveniently several months away.

Although outwardly unperturbed, Dirk couldn't avoid the feeling it was all about to come crashing down around him.
And there was the Lion of Senet, lurking in the wings, like a spider eyeing an unsuspecting bug, waiting for his chance to get Dirk back into his power. And Dirk would have little choice but to follow him. There was no refuge for him among the rebels any longer. He'd burned those bridges behind him well and truly. Anyway, Antonov's patience would not suffer Dirk defying him a second time. If he failed to be appointed the Lord of the Suns, Dirk would follow Antonov or die.

And Antonov expected Dirk to follow him all the way to the throne of Dhevyn.

Dirk tried to recall the day he'd met Paige Halyn in Bollow, in this very room, and told him what he wanted to do. It had taken quite a while to convince Paige he was genuine, even longer to enlist his cooperation. The old Lord of the Suns had extracted two promises from Dirk in return for naming him his heir. The first was that he would restore the Sundancers to the rightful place as the true representatives of the Goddess. The second was that he would kill nobody in his quest.

He wasn't doing very well on either count. The Sundancers were in more danger of being destroyed than they had ever been, and the body count was nearing three figures, when one included the Baenlanders who had died during the invasion of Mil. He suddenly remembered something Tia had said to him on their way to Mil the first time he fled Avacas:
That's the problem with people like you and my father. You never mean to do any harm, but you think you're so damn clever, all you end up doing is causing trouble.

She was right about that much.
Dirk had caused enough trouble in the last few months to last a lifetime.

The door opened and Claudio returned with Madalan and another Sundancer Dirk didn't know. Claudio introduced the newcomer as Marco Morgenov, the Chief Archivist. He looked even older than Claudio.
That's half the problem with the Sundancers
, Dirk realized.
All the young blood went to the Shadowdancers.

“Well, do you have a solution to this dilemma?” Antonov asked as soon as Claudio had finished the introductions.

“Perhaps not a solution, your highness,” Marco replied. “But I can offer you plenty of historical evidence—”

“Historical evidence is not law,” Dirk cut in, feeling vastly relieved. If they couldn't produce a document flatly stating he must be of age, then there was a chance he might still survive this.

Marco turned to him impatiently. “My lord, you didn't let me finish. I was going to say the historical evidence supports the Lady Madalan's contention, but in order to clarify the issue, it will take more than an hour's browsing through the archives.” Marco turned to Antonov. “Your highness, I would like to ask for more time. This question is too important to be settled hastily.”

“I agree,” Antonov said. “How much more time do you need?”

“The records of the Sundancers go back more than ten thousand years, your highness. If such a decree was ever made, it would have been issued a long time ago. The search may take months.”

So that was their plan.
If they can't stop me, they can stall me, indefinitely if need be.

“Months!” Antonov snapped impatiently. “Surely you have some record of your laws that can be consulted more quickly than that?”

“Might I suggest, your highness, they want months to check this because no such law exists?”

“You can suggest it, Lord Provin,” Marco retorted, “but that still won't make your appointment legal until the issue is resolved.”

Antonov glanced across the room to Marqel, who had wisely said nothing so far.

“Does the Goddess have anything to say on this, my lady?” Antonov asked.

Marqel looked around the room before she answered. Other than Antonov, there was not a soul in the room who believed she actually spoke to the Goddess. Marqel knew that. She also knew that at the moment, Dirk's authority was looking decidedly shaky.

“The Goddess has not spoken to me on this matter, your
highness,” she replied carefully. “But I believe she would counsel prudence over hasty action.”

You treacherous little bitch
, Dirk thought.

Antonov nodded in agreement. “I'm afraid I'm inclined to agree. It would be unwise to swear in the Lord of the Suns until this matter is clarified.”

“And if it
can't
be clarified?” Dirk asked, hoping he didn't sound as desperate as he felt.

“Then we will hold an election,” Claudio said.

“That will take months,” Dirk pointed out. “By then I
will
be of age under Senetian law, my lord.”

“Then that is the solution to our problem,” Antonov announced. “You have until Dirk's twentieth birthday to find your answer, my lords. If you can't come up with one by then, I suggest the will stands and Dirk is sworn in, as Paige Halyn intended.”

The Sundancers glanced at each other uncertainly and then nodded. It wasn't the resolution they were hoping for— which was to remove Dirk from contention completely—but it stalled his appointment by several months.

It wasn't the answer Dirk wanted either. He needed to be Lord of the Suns. Now. Before the eclipse.

“Sire …”

Antonov ignored him. “Then I suggest we go back out there and announce the swearing-in ceremony has been postponed and that Lord Varell will assume temporary leadership of the Church until the matter has been resolved.”

“An excellent suggestion,” Claudio agreed. Being appointed acting leader was probably more than he'd hoped for. Even Madalan seemed satisfied Dirk's rise to power was slowed down.

They filed out of the room one by one, heading back into the main temple. Marqel spared Dirk a smug little smile as she took Antonov's arm. As usual, she had acted on a selfish impulse, with no real understanding of what she had done.

Dirk was the last one to emerge from the anteroom. Claudio stepped up to the altar and turned to face the crowded temple.
An expectant hush fell over the hall as he raised his hands for silence.

“My lords and ladies! The issue of the age of the new Lord of the Suns cannot be resolved in the space of a mere hour! It is the consensus of the Church, the swearing-in of the new Lord of the Suns must be delayed …”

Dirk didn't hear the rest of it. It was over. There was no chance he would be confirmed as Lord of the Suns now. Either an assassin would find him or Claudio and Madalan would see to it the wheels of bureaucracy ground his ambitions into the dust. The eclipse would come and go and the Shadowdancers would rule supreme. His interference had not helped Dhevyn's cause. He had just strengthened his enemy's position so much the Shadowdancers would be unassailable.

And then out of nowhere, rescue appeared in the unlikely shape of Lady Jacinta D'Orlon.

urely in light of the existing precedent, a delay is unnecessary, my lord,” Jacinta suggested loudly, pushing through the gathered dignitaries who were watching the proceedings with intense interest. She looked flushed and a little breathless.

Madalan turned to look at the young woman, shocked by the interruption. “I think you would be better minding your own business, Lady Jacinta. I believe you are also not of age according to Senetian law.”

Jacinta smiled serenely, unperturbed by Madalan's derisive tone. “That may be the case, my lady, but I
am
of age under Dhevynian law and I am here as the representative of the Queen of Dhevyn. I believe my diplomatic status takes precedence over my youth in this case.”

“Let her speak,” Antonov ordered.

Madalan bowed in reluctant acquiescence. Nobody defied the Lion of Senet, even on Church ground.

“There are a number of precedents for the Lord or Lady of the Suns to be underage, your highness,” Jacinta explained, addressing her remarks to Antonov. “Monique Karyov, who was later known as the Mother of the Light, was merely fourteen when she became Lady of the Suns. Lord Astin of Versage was only sixteen. I believe he was the first Lord of the Suns to earn the title of Guardian of the Light. In fact, not only have there been more than a dozen cases of the new Lord or Lady of the Suns being appointed before they reached their majority, most of them went on to long and distinguished careers.” Then she smiled ingenuously at Madalan. “Of course, I realize that you probably know the
Book of Ranadon
better than I do, my lady, but I'm quite sure I'm correct.”

Dirk stared at Jacinta D'Orlon in amazement, wondering how she knew such things. Where had she gotten hold of a copy of the
Book of Ranadon
? And more important, why was she defending him? Madalan looked shocked. Claudio hung his head in bitter disappointment, as he realized their one chance to remove Dirk was rapidly slipping away from them.

“The instances you quote are not precedents, my lady, they are anomalies,” Marco Morgenov pointed out. “Besides, every one of them was Senetian.”

“And where is it written, my lord, that the Lord or Lady of the Suns must be born in Senet?” Jacinta countered. “Even the Goddess has chosen a Dhevynian as her voice. Are you suggesting
she
is wrong?”

Dirk mentally winced at Jacinta's question. She was daring a great deal to challenge the Church so publicly, particularly on the issue of the new High Priestess. But Jacinta seemed unfazed—in fact, she seemed to be enjoying herself. Her strange, color-shifting eyes were bright and her whole stance was proud and confident. How much of it was genuine bravado and how much was simply the result of a few hundred generations of noble breeding, Dirk couldn't guess.

Then something else occurred to Dirk. Jacinta was either a blindly faithful follower of the Goddess, or when Eryk claimed Alenor had told her everything, he wasn't exaggerating. As the former was unlikely in light of her connection with
the Baenlanders, that meant she must know who was responsible for Marqel's elevation to Voice of the Goddess. And yet she was standing up for him; doing her utmost to see him confirmed as Lord of the Suns. Dirk wasn't sure if he should be grateful or extremely worried.

“Of course I'm not suggesting the Goddess is wrong,” Marco retorted impatiently. “What I'm suggesting, my lady, is that you are a Dhevynian noblewoman with no formal education and in no position to set yourself up as an authority on the
Book of Ranadon
.”

“Excuse me, my lord,” Saban Seranov interjected, surprising everyone with his interruption. “While I've no wish to comment on the theology of this discussion, I must challenge the assertion that the Lady Jacinta is uneducated. She was accepted into the University of Nova based on nothing but merit. You should be grateful if even one of your Senetian women were half as well educated.” He brushed the hair from his face and winked at Jacinta.

There was more going on here than simply a discussion about whether or not Dirk Provin was old enough to be Lord of the Shadows. There were allies here he hadn't expected. Whether they were supporting him because they believed him capable or simply hoped to use him to their own ends was yet to be determined. Dirk recalled the suspicion with which the Baenlanders had always viewed Saban Seranov, the man who had denounced his brother to assume his title. Both his sons were actively involved with the pirates. Perhaps he wasn't as blind to his sons' rebellious activities as everyone imagined.

“I'm sure Lord Marco meant no offense to the Lady Jacinta,” Madalan apologized. “I do, however, stand by my assertion this appointment is neither legal nor the intention of the late Paige Halyn.”

“What say you on this matter, Lord Varell?” Antonov asked Claudio.

“The Lady Jacinta speaks truly, your highness,” he replied unhappily. “Perhaps, now I think of it, there is a precedent which allows the Lord of the Suns to assume the position before reaching his majority.”

“And does the
Book of Ranadon
specify that your leader must be Senetian by birth?”

“The Goddess knows no boundaries,” Jacinta pointed out piously. “We are all her people under the suns.”

Dirk caught Jacinta D'Orlon's eye. She winked at him and then stepped back, her role in this now done.

Of all the games going on around him, Jacinta's worried him the most. Dirk could usually anticipate Madalan's clumsy intrigues. He knew Antonov well enough to counter him at almost every turn, but Alenor's envoy was an unknown quantity. He didn't know her. He couldn't tell what she was up to, or even guess her motives. On one hand, she was here representing the queen, yet she had asked him to help the refugee Baenlanders. Whose side was she on? What game was Jacinta playing? She seemed to have a gift for surprising him, and the one thing Dirk couldn't afford in this dangerous enterprise was surprises. He'd certainly had enough of them for one day.

“Well spoken, Lady Jacinta. And to my mind, that settles the issue. My lady?” Antonov asked Madalan. “Do you have any further accusations to bring against the Lord of the Suns?”

Madalan turned her hate-filled glare to Dirk. “No, your highness.”

Her retreat didn't shock Dirk as much as it did the rest of the gathering. Publicly she had been defeated, but she was clever enough not to resign in protest. Madalan Tirov understood power was much more easily wielded when you actually had it in your grasp.

“Then let's get on with the ceremony, shall we?”

Claudio nodded reluctantly and stepped forward. He looked up at Dirk with eyes filled with resignation.

“Would you repeat the oath after me, my lord?”

Dirk nodded and in a clear voice, swore by a Goddess he didn't believe in to uphold the laws of her faith and bring her truth to every soul on Ranadon.

Even Madalan seemed surprised to realize that, for the last part of the oath at least, Dirk sounded as if he really meant it.