Shadow War - Deborah Chester [144]
Sien spread out his arms, the smile still lingering on his lips. “Why not now? Take vengeance for all those who have died tonight, and strike me down. It will teach you much.”
Caelan’s hand tightened on the hilt. Thoughts of the guardsmen, courtiers, women, and servants who had died needlessly tonight boiled through his mind, igniting his rage anew. He knew Sien was mocking him now, egging him on as though to test the limits of his temper. With all his heart he craved the satisfaction of killing the priest, but he stayed his hand. He would not do it, if only because the priest asked for it.
“Oh, come,” Sien said in false disappointment. “Do not hesitate. You are a champion in the arena. You have killed more men than you can count. Death walks at your shoulder. You call him friend. Are you not his best reaper?”
“No,” Caelan whispered, but his mouth quivered as he spoke.
“You take life so efficiently,” Sien said. “It is your talent. Tell me, in your culture what is a taker called?”
Caelan stared at him, skewered with guilt exactly as Sien intended. Loathing against both Sien and himself burned in his throat.
“Take my life,” Sien taunted him, “and learn. So much awaits you. Besides, do you not crave vengeance against your enemies? And I have conspired with them, have I not?”
“Why aren’t you with Tirhin right now?” Caelan asked around the lump choking his throat. “Why aren’t you out there, enjoying your triumph? The empire is destroyed—”
“Oh, not by half,” Sien said impatiently. “The head has been severed from the body, but neither are dead yet. They could easily be rejoined. Especially since the emperor is preparing to take the secret ways to safety at this moment. And the empress lies here at our feet, very close to joining her sovereign lord.” Anger flashed in Sien’s yellow eyes. “My work is far from finished.”
Caelan felt his entrails drawing into a cold knot. Drawing on his courage, he forced himself to go on facing the priest with defiance and contempt. “If you are so busy,” he said, “why don’t you run to Tirhin and help him?”
Sien laughed. “Can you really be so naive, so stupid as to think I want the prince to assume the throne?”
Caelan frowned at this monster in human guise. This was the man who had persuaded Tirhin to trust the Madruns and to ally his cause with theirs. This was the man who had abandoned his prince to the attack of the shyrieas that night on the mountainside. This was the man who had counseled Emperor Kostimon for years, yet tonight had turned on him in betrayal.
“You want the complete destruction of everything,” Caelan said slowly. “You want everything pulled down. You are working against everyone in the imperial family.”
A smile spread across Sien’s face. “Perhaps I have given you a small piece of myself in our joining,” he said in approval. “Your perception has improved.”
“It isn’t hard to fit the pieces together,” Caelan said angrily.
“No, it isn’t. Especially when I make it easy for you.”
A soft moan from the empress kept Caelan from retorting. He turned and knelt beside her as she stirred.
Moaning again, she lifted one hand to her brow and opened her eyes. She seemed lost and confused for a moment; then comprehension flooded her gaze and her eyes filled with tears.
She sat up, choking, and Caelan wished he could gather her tightly in his arms and hold her.
But she was the empress, and he was no one with the right to offer her such comfort.
“You are safe, Majesty,” Caelan said quickly, putting reassurance in his voice. As he spoke, he glanced up at Sien standing apart from them in the gloom, and hoped he told the truth. “We are beneath the temple.”
She glanced at Caelan fearfully and brushed back a strand of hair from her face. “The shadow—”
“It is gone,” Caelan reassured her.
She groped for the embroidered pouch that hung around her neck, gripping it so hard her knuckles turned white. “Did you destroy