Shadow War - Deborah Chester [45]
That left his master the traitor.
Caelan’s frown deepened. He felt sickened by what he’d witnessed. His former admiration for Tirhin now felt like cheap delusion.
To betray Imperia to its direst enemies, out of spite and ambition ...
Disgust filled Caelan. He vowed to put a stop to Tirhin’s plots, but how?
Uncertain of what to do, Caelan returned to his spyhole and peered in just as Sien lifted a smoking pot from the fire and poured its dark liquid contents into a cup. He proffered this to Tirhin, who was sitting dejectedly on a stool.
“Here,” the priest said. “It is time to finish what you have begun.”
The prince waved it away without glancing up. “Do I poison her or merely stab her in the throat? Do I bribe my way into her chambers and smother her in her sleep? Any suggestions for how this infamy should be conducted?”
“You are tired,” the priest said soothingly. “Do not think of those details now. There are other matters that should come first. Drink this.”
“One of your potions?” the prince said. “No.”
Anger crossed Sien’s face. “This is a gift. Not from my hands, but from he whom I serve. It will give you strength. It will make you greater than any other man. It will start you on the path to immortality.”
Reverence filled his voice. He held the smoking cup between his hands as though it were something to be worshipped. “The cup of Beloth,” he intoned, his face radiant. “The gift of life.”
Tirhin glanced up, his interest caught at last. “My father’s drink,” he said. “What my father bargained with the shadow god for, and won.”
Sien smiled. “Yes.”
Tirhin’s face hardened. “Once again I walk in my father’s footsteps. Am I only to follow? Never to forge my own path?”
“You have begun your own path tonight,” Sien assured him. “Your father’s road is ending.”
“And all I have to do to live for a thousand years is drink this?” the prince asked, his voice harsh with disbelief. “Don’t I have to go before the god and make my own bargain?”
Sien put down the cup and frowned. “You fool! You jeer at what you do not understand.”
“I am not an idiot. I know nothing is that easy.”
“You are mistaken,” Sien said angrily. “The path to Beloth is very easy. Once fear is put aside—”
“So I am afraid, am I?” Tirhin said with equal heat. “Why? Because I am a skeptic? I am not of the same superstitious, primitive era as my father. What did he do to awaken the shadow god?”
“That, you may not know,” Sien said. “But I brought him the first cup, as I have brought it to you tonight. If you spurn this, then you are not worthy of—”
Tirhin jerked to his feet, knocking over his stool. “It is not for you to decide that!” he shouted. “You are no kingmaker, for all your power. You do not rule the empire. You never will. Get that clear, for I will not be your puppet.”
“Events are already set in motion,” Sien said. “You cannot undo them now.”
“No, but I shall control them as I wish. Not as you wish.” As he spoke, Tirhin took the cup and dashed it to the floor.
The dark contents splashed out, hissing before the tamped earth absorbed them.
Sien cried something, but it was lost in a loud rumble that shook the earth.
Caelan scrambled upright and clung to the outer wall of the hut for support. This sudden violence from the ground was terrifying. Caelan found his heart slamming against his ribs. If Beloth did indeed live inside this mountain, then the prince’s defiance had angered him.
Ash and smoke belched from the top of the mountain. The ground went on shaking violently, as though it would split open. Part of the hut’s roof began to fall in. Caelan could hear the horses neighing in terror.
Racing around to the front of the hut, he shouldered open the door with a slam that nearly broke it off its hinges.
“Get out!” he shouted. “If you don’t want all of it coming down on your head, get out now!”
Seeing freedom, the horses bolted past him. Caelan grabbed at one’s bridle, but it knocked him spinning. Winded and stunned, Caelan struggled upright.