Lord of the Shadows (4 page)

“Well, that's going to happen whatever we do,” Lile pointed out. “Why not at least strike the first blow?”

The direction this conversation was heading was making Misha very nervous. “You can't afford for me to die,” he hurriedly told the gathered Baenlanders.

“Why not?” Novin shrugged. “I can't see it makes much difference one way or the other.”

“Because if Misha dies, Kirshov Latanya will become the heir to Senet,” Tia reminded them impatiently.

“He's just married Alenor D'Orlon, remember?” Reithan Seranov added, surprising Misha with his support. “And that means any issue of theirs will be the heir to both Senet and Dhevyn. Within one generation, Dhevyn will be absorbed into Senet and you can kiss all your dreams of freeing Dhevyn goodbye forever.”

Misha nodded. “They are right. If I die, you might as well forget everything you've fought for. It will become irrelevant.”

“What would you do in our place, Misha?” Lexie asked.

“I'd make a deal.”

“With whom?” Porl Isingrin scoffed. “The Lion of Senet? Your father thinks negotiating and giving in to him are the same thing.”

“I'd make a deal with
me
,” Misha suggested, ignoring the little voice in the back of his mind suggesting making a deal with the Baenlanders was akin to treason against his own people.

His own people had tried to kill him.

“You're not much more than a prisoner, your highness,” Lexie reminded him. “What could you possibly offer us?”

“Dhevyn,” he told them, the plan forming in his mind as he spoke. He leaned forward in his chair, a little too eagerly perhaps, but he couldn't help it. For the first time in his life, Misha saw a future ahead of him not filled with humiliation and despair. The people who had poisoned him had perpetrated the treason, he reasoned. He was not the guilty party.

“Keep me alive,” he suggested. “Keep me safe from those in Senet who would see me dead, and when my father dies and I ascend to the throne, I will withdraw every Senetian governor, every Senetian soldier, from Dhevyn as my first act as Lion of Senet.”

His offer was met with contemptuous silence.

“I give you my word,” he added, praying the Goddess would make them believe him. “Aid me and I will guarantee Dhevyn independent sovereignty in perpetuity.”

he council meeting dragged on well past first sunrise. When Misha made his startling offer, the council had reacted with stunned disbelief at first. Then Novin Arrowsmith had burst into derisive and disbelieving laughter. After that, the meeting had erupted into chaos and Lexie had asked Reithan and Lile to carry Misha back to Petra's house, while they discussed their options.

He'd not heard from anyone in the longhouse since.

“What's taking them so long?”

“It won't be much longer now,” Helgin assured Misha, guessing the reason for his growing apprehension.

It was odd, but here in Mil, where they knew and seemed to accept he was an addict, nobody assumed if he got a bit jittery it was because he was about to have a seizure. These people knew the symptoms of poppy-dust addiction well, and could tell the difference between a man frustrated by impatience and a man about to start foaming at the mouth.

No sooner had the physician spoken than the door opened and Tia stepped into the cluttered little cottage Helgin shared with Petra. He'd not seen the old herb woman all day. She was busy delivering a baby, so Helgin had informed him.

Helgin smiled. “There! What did I tell you?”

“What did they decide?” Misha demanded of Tia, ignoring the old man's smug look.

“Nothing yet,” Tia shrugged. “You don't happen to have any tea, do you, Master Helgin? I'd kill for a hot cup.”

“Not a fresh batch,” Helgin told her. “But it's no trouble to make it. Would you like some tea, Misha?”

“Thank you,” he replied with a nod, watching Tia closely as she took a seat at the scrubbed wooden table opposite him. “What's taking them so long?”

“They don't know if they can trust you,” she shrugged.

“But I gave them my word.”

Tia smiled thinly. “The word of a Senetian doesn't mean much around here, Misha. Particularly a Senetian with your rather dubious pedigree. There's also the question of your addiction. Novin Arrowsmith is trying to convince everyone you won't even remember what you said as soon as the poppy-dust wears off.”

“I will remember my promise,” he assured her. “And keep it.”

“I believe you. But unfortunately, it's not me you have to convince.”

Misha cursed silently, both his own weakness and the unknown parties who had done this to him. He glanced over at Master Helgin, who was bustling around the stove, preparing the tea. “How long will it take me to get free of the poppy-dust?”

Helgin turned to look at him with concern. “I'm not sure.”

“But you have some idea, don't you?”

Helgin brought the teapot to the table and took a seat beside Tia. “Have you considered, your highness, that you might be better simply managing your addiction, so that—”

“I don't want to manage it, Helgin! I want to be free of it!”

“Perhaps I should explain,” the physician said. “If what
you've told me is correct, then you've been unknowingly taking poppy-dust since you were eight or nine years old. Every pore in your body is steeped in it. Your body simply doesn't know how to function without it. If you were to stop taking the drug … well, you've seen the results for yourself. It's liable to kill you.”

“Are you telling me I
can't
get free of it?”

“No. I'm telling you it will be hard, painful and possibly fatal, and even if you do manage to survive the withdrawal process, it will take up to seven years before your body is totally free of the drug. And I'm just talking about the physical addiction. You have a dependence on the drug your mind will find hard to let go. That may last a lifetime. You'll need more than physical strength to get through it. It will require a strength of character that few men have.”

“That's why we never tried to make Neris shake his addiction,” Tia added, sympathetically. “It was kinder to let him keep taking the drug than put him through the agony of withdrawal.”

Misha stared at both of them with a frown. “You think I'm too weak to do it?”

“You're certainly too physically depleted to attempt it at the moment,” Helgin informed him. “As for your strength of character? Well, only time will tell on that score, your highness. Nobody really knows what they're capable of until they try.”

“And I have to try,” he insisted.

The old physician looked extremely doubtful. “You can still lead a fulfilling life with a manageable addiction,” he tried to assure him. “Your problem has been that you weren't in control of it. The doses you received—be they too little or too much—were controlled by Ella Geon. Now you know what you are facing, you can deal with it yourself and—”

“No!” he declared. “It's not an option. I have to get free of this or I might as well die. I will always be vulnerable while my life revolves around my next dose of poppy-dust. If I can't rule my own life, what hope do I have of convincing anybody I'm capable of ruling Senet?”

“I think what Helgin is trying to say is you will always be vulnerable to it, no matter what,” Tia told him. “Even if you
manage to survive withdrawal, even if you're strong enough to deny the mental cravings, you'll always be at risk. It would take something as simple as a bad headache to bring you undone. One well-meaning courtier bringing you something to relieve the pain might be all it takes to put you right back where you are now.”

“Then I will surround myself with people I can trust,” he replied. “But I have to try. If I don't, then I have no future.”

Tia nodded in understanding. She at least seemed sympathetic to his plight. But the old physician tut-tutted under his breath.

“I will be free of this, Master Helgin, or I will die trying,” he announced with quiet determination.

“I'll help you, if that is truly what you want,” Helgin said unhappily. “But in my opinion, you would be far better learning to live with the hand you've been dealt than trying to fight it.”

“How can I?” he asked. “How can I claim clear judgment if everyone knows I'm an addict? How can I condemn a criminal for trafficking in the very thing that allows me to make it through the day? Don't you see I have no choice?”

“Well, before you get too carried away condemning the criminals trafficking in poppy-dust, Misha,” Tia reminded him with a scowl, “just remember, it's those same criminals who are currently giving you asylum from your own people, who seem intent on killing you.”

“That wasn't what I meant, Tia …”

“I know,” she shrugged, “but you can see the council's problem with you.”

“If you're planning to do this, then you must regain your strength,” Helgin warned. “And that means stabilizing your addiction. You need to gain some weight, for one thing. And I'd like to see you up and about, walking.”

“Wouldn't we all,” Misha sighed.

“You were riding a horse when I first met you, your highness,” Helgin reminded him. “You walked into Elcast Keep.”

“My good leg was stronger then. But my left side has been weak for as long as I can remember.”

“If you could walk then, you can walk now. All you need to
do is start using the muscles again. Whose idea was it you should be bedridden, anyway?”

“I'm not sure if it was a conscious decision on anyone's part. The worse my condition got, the easier it was not to venture from my bed.”

“I thought what they did to Neris was bad,” Helgin lamented. “But what has been done to you—Antonov's own son—defies belief.”

“I will make them pay, Master Helgin. But I can only do that if you help me.”

“You'll need more than my help, I'm afraid.”

“Can I do anything?” Tia volunteered.

“I can't ask you to do any more for me, Tia.”

“I could help you walk. There's plenty of sand around Mil, which will help build up your muscles, and when you're ready, we could tackle the goat tracks in the hills. At least I can help you until we leave.”

“You're going somewhere?” Helgin asked.

“We all are. Dirk's told Antonov the way through the delta. Or at least he's planning to. We have to evacuate Mil.”

“Then the rumors about him are true?” Helgin sighed.

Misha sympathized with the old man. Dirk had been his protégé, his pride and joy. He loved the boy like a son. Dirk had rescued the physician from Elcast. Helgin couldn't believe Dirk had turned on them. Misha had trouble believing it, too; he was more inclined to think Dirk was up to something than simply accept he'd just changed sides with no warning.

“Yes,” Tia confirmed in an unexpectedly savage tone. “They're true.”

“I can't imagine what would have driven him to do such a thing,” Helgin said, shaking his head.

“Greed?” Tia suggested. “Ambition? A lust for power? Take your pick.”

“The boy I helped raise was not like that,” Helgin objected.

“The boy you helped raise, Master Helgin, is a traitorous, murderous, power-hungry, selfish little bastard.”

Helgin shook his head. “You've not seen the other side of him…”

“I've seen sides of Dirk Provin you can't even imagine,” Tia snapped, rising to her feet. “And they all look the same to me—just pure, unadulterated evil.”

With that, she stalked out of the small cottage, slamming the door behind her. Misha turned to look at Helgin. The old man seemed as surprised by Tia's vehemence as he was.

“I think, your highness,” Helgin remarked, “it might be prudent not to mention Dirk Provin's name in Tia's hearing. She appears to feel very strongly about him.”

“Very strongly,” Misha agreed thoughtfully as he stared at the closed door, wondering if there was more to Tia's reaction than simple anger over Dirk's betrayal. He turned to Helgin. “Do you think he simply betrayed the Baenlanders out of greed or selfishness? Or is there more to it than that?”

“I'm an old man, your highness, and I've seen more than my share of strife and pain. But if I've learned anything in this life, it's that there is
always
more to it than what we see or what we think we know.” He lifted the lid on the pot and sighed. “Damn, it's gone off the boil.” Helgin rose from the table and walked back to the stove to boil the kettle again. “I'll tell you something else, lad. That girl's hurting from more than just a feeling of being betrayed.”

Misha looked up in surprise. “You mean Tia and Dirk?…”

Helgin shrugged. “I don't know anything for certain, Misha, but I'll tell you this much. Tia Veran's not just angry at Dirk. I suspect she's angry with herself.”