Shadow War - Deborah Chester [68]
“Very well,” she said coldly, and walked to the door.
Caelan came after her. “Majesty, please!”
“I must go.”
He reached around her and held the door shut with his palm when she would have opened it.
Outraged, she whirled to face him and found him far too close. “How dare you keep me here against my will!”
“What is one more offense among so many?” he retorted. “Will you help me if I tell you the Madruns are coming?”
“The Madruns are always coming,” she said, unimpressed. “It is a threat spoken to frighten children. They cannot break through our defenses.”
His face was intense. “But if they could?”
“They cannot!”
“But if they could!”
She stared at him, wondering for a moment if it could be true. The very idea chilled her. “Is this the terrible warning you bring?” she asked, putting a slight hint of laughter in her voice.
He met her gaze, emotions at war in his face. Finally he took his hand from the door and stepped back.
“It is impossible for them to reach Imperia,” she went on derisively. “Our defenses are very strong.”
He said nothing. His eyes held defeat, and it was as though he refused to plead or argue further.
She watched him a moment, wanting to believe him, but unable to. With a sigh, she replaced her veil and straightened her cloak. Her obligations could not be put off any longer. She had tarried here too long already. Elandra’s curiosity was stronger than ever regarding what Tirhin had been up to. But if the slave would not talk openly, she could waste no more time trying to draw it from him.
“My advice for you is that you run,” she said. “The healer will tell Prince Tirhin what you have done here. You are lost. No one at the palace will grant you sanctuary, and you cannot return to your master with any hope of his mercy now that you have attempted to denounce him. Run. It is your only hope.”
“I can’t live with bounty hunters on my trail,” he said quietly.
It was not the answer she expected from him. She cast him one final look of amazement, then gathered her potion from the table and left the small study, taking care to close the door after her.
In the passageway the guards snapped to attention and fell into step behind her. Elandra walked quickly, moving with purpose but not unseemly haste. She was late; she had been gone too long. There would be an uproar to face in her chamber.
It did not matter. She had much to think about regarding this chance encounter.
Was it chance or fate? whispered a voice in the back of her mind. The Penestrican sisterhood did not believe in chance, only in connections.
What had Tirhin done?
He had plotted treason unsuccessfully in the past, and Kostimon had overlooked his transgression. Lately the prince had been surly and rebellious, but more toward her than toward his father.
But now he had done something wrong enough to shock a slave still loyal enough to carry his master bodily all the way back from Sidraigh-hal. As for how the slave had escaped the shyrieas himself, that had not been explained. She was inclined to think there had been no encounter with demons.
What, then, had Tirhin done? What was this wild talk of Madruns overtaking the city? It was unthinkable that Tirhin would join in some unholy alliance with the enemy, and yet it made sense. It explained what had made this slave claw his way through an unguarded palace window, risking everything for a chance to warn the emperor.
She had barely managed to pretend that she didn’t believe the slave’s hint about the Madruns. But inside, her heart raced at the possibility. Yet they couldn’t take the city. They couldn’t.
Even with help?
She dismissed the thought, telling herself not to become fearful and foolish. Her own