Ninth moon, first year of the reign of King Corvus
Red Gods’ temple, temple district, First Circle, Rilporin, Wheat Lands
He’d told the Blessed One that his sister would be sent to her the moment she arrived, but in the end, it was Lanta who sent for him. Apparently, Rillirin had arrived in the city and no one had thought to tell him. He knew Valan had had something to do with it. His second was far too friendly with the Blessed One these days.
He mentioned his concerns to Tett who, after a promise to find out which gate she’d come through and which Mireces were on duty when she did, kept his habitual silence. It was something Corvus had come to enjoy. Valan’s opinions were usually valid, but he had a lot of them and rarely recognised when Corvus needed some peace and quiet.
And every time Valan couldn’t be found because he was with the Blessed One, Tett was there instead, waiting to serve, to protect his king. To earn his trust. Corvus glanced at him now, walking on his right where the second – the heir – usually was. It was something to think about. Tett was steady, competent, an excellent warrior, respected by the men and dedicated to the Dark Path. More than that, he had a head for numbers and was a born organiser, unlike Valan, who relied on flair and a quick tongue, an easy charisma that made men like him.
He wouldn’t make the decision yet. See how Tett handled himself in the next few months until the Dark Lady was restored. Plenty of time to decide the future once that future was secure.
There were Mireces on watch outside the temple; they leapt to attention as he barged past and flung open the door, boot heels echoing in the vast building. The main worship space was empty; they’d be in Lanta’s private quarters. There weren’t guards there, so Corvus slammed back the door and strode in.
Lanta jumped and Valan kicked out of his chair, a dagger appearing in each hand at the intrusion, so Tett shoved past Corvus and drew his sword. ‘Weapons up,’ he snarled.
‘Your Majesty? Forgive me, Sire, you startled me,’ Valan said, hurriedly sheathing his knives. ‘We have been—’
‘Rill?’ Corvus wasn’t listening, didn’t have eyes for the Blessed One and the faint stain of blush in her cheeks as if he’d caught her doing something illicit, didn’t care about Valan’s garbled excuses. Knowing she was here and seeing her were two different things. His sister hadn’t stood when he entered, instead sitting composed and calm in a cushioned chair, a glass resting on the mound of her stomach. She was big already, with a three-moon still to go.
‘Brother,’ she said. ‘I’d get up but, you know, it’s a little difficult to curtsey these days.’ He blinked at the casual disdain in her tone.
‘Shut your mouth,’ Lanta snapped, the anger in her words far outweighing the insult. Corvus held up his hand, stilling her, and stepped past Tett, took Valan’s chair as his own and dragged it closer. He sat, his knee touching Rillirin’s, and took the hand not holding the glass, filled with tenderness and something akin to pride. You will be the instrument of the Dark Lady’s return. Your child will be glorious.
‘You’re here,’ he said, almost wondering. ‘Finally you’ve come back to me.’
Rillirin’s lip curled and she threw her wine in his face. ‘I wouldn’t exactly say I’m here of my own free will,’ she said as he spluttered and Lanta shouted at her again, more strident this time. They both ignored her. ‘Your pet soldiers kidnapped me and slaughtered all the people I was with, hundreds and hundreds of them. And it’s apparently because you believe my child is somehow special. You’re all insane.’
Her confidence surprised and intrigued him and he was frankly delighted at how it incensed Lanta, even after only a few hours. Still, he’d need to break her before the birth. Rillirin’s mouth tightened and she pressed her hands to her belly. She’d been dressed in a gown that was too small so that the material was taut and he watched, fascinated, as the babe writhed and moved inside her. His sister’s child. The Bloodchild.
‘When did she get here?’ he asked Valan, using his sleeve to wipe the liquid from his face and neck and acting as if Rillirin were no more than a precocious child.
‘An East Rank captain and a Krikite named Pesh brought her in just before noon. Yesterday.’ Lanta’s voice was cold and precise, but with a hint of satisfaction she couldn’t quite hide.
A full day and a half before you think to inform me? I weary of your games, Lanta.
‘And what have you three been up to since she arrived? Catching up on old times?’ His sarcasm brought a flush to Valan’s face and tightened the muscles around Lanta’s mouth.
‘They stole my clothes, forced me into this sack and then made me stay in this cesspit until the fucking stench made me puke,’ Rillirin said. ‘You think I’ve got a magic baby but it doesn’t occur to anyone that it could be harmed by being in this place. You’re so bloody—’
‘Be quiet,’ Lanta said, the words grated out between her teeth.
Corvus leant back in his chair and gestured. Tett filled a glass with wine and passed it to him; it didn’t escape him that Valan had neglected this most basic duty. ‘Perhaps,’ was all he said. They were all uncomfortable at that, expecting more, expecting anger or interrogation or threats. Not calm.
None of them know the first thing about me. Not even Rill.
‘Oh,’ he said, as if he’d only just remembered, ‘I have a gift for you. Tett.’ He gestured and the warrior moved to Rillirin’s side. She tensed, but he just brushed the mane of her hair back and used a small pair of pliers to tug the pin out of the collar so it fell open. He took it from her neck and now Rillirin was surprised, her brittle confidence melted like salt in blood. Her hand went to her neck as if she couldn’t believe it; on Corvus’s other side Lanta radiated frozen outrage.
Corvus passed his cup to Tett and pulled the new collar out of the bag the man held. Slender and light, shimmering. He’d even had it decorated. ‘Silver, to reflect your station as a member of the royal family,’ he said, and shifted to the edge of his chair. Rillirin stiffened and there was a wordless plea in her face. He leant forward and clipped it shut around her throat, fitted the slender steel pin through the hasp and then held it still while Tett used the pliers to bend it over so it couldn’t be removed.
He sat back and examined her. ‘Beautiful. Like its wearer.’ He winked, but the fire – the wonderful, infuriating fire – was gone. Part of him hoped it couldn’t be so easily extinguished, that it was merely banked and waiting fresh fuel. He poked the coals. ‘Fox-bitch, Liris used to call you.’ Lanta was stony, Valan glancing between king and Blessed One as if not sure which way to jump. ‘Wildcat.’
Rillirin’s fingers tightened at mention of the dead king’s name, the man who’d owned and used her body, but when she replied her voice was even. ‘I prefer Wolf now. They’re my war-kin. I fought with them, and I killed alongside them. Killed Mireces.’
‘And now you are a princess,’ Corvus said with a grin, ‘and one of the most powerful Mireces alive.’
‘I am no Mireces,’ she said with quiet venom, delighting him, ‘and my child will not be either. Dom will come for me, for us both. He’ll kill you; maybe I’ll kill you.’
‘You will be Mireces,’ Corvus promised her and now the flames were back, licking high and hungry and glowing in her face. ‘You will come to the Path with your whole heart, because your child will already be standing upon it. And what mother abandons her child?’
‘I will not, and neither will—’
‘If you cannot control your tongue I will have it burnt out of your head,’ Lanta said, sharp and angry. ‘We need your womb and your babe, not the rest of you.’
‘You’re not getting my child,’ Rillirin said again, and the fire was roaring now. If the Blessed One’s words had touched her, it didn’t show. Corvus could have clapped; he knew how much grit it would take for a former slave to contradict the Blessed One. ‘Dom will come; the army will come. You’re all going to die. And if not? I’ll just have to do it myself.’
‘You should concern yourself only with a healthy pregnancy, Princess,’ Valan said smoothly, and with every appearance of honesty, and it was like a bucket of cold water over them all. Rillirin twitched, confusion sliding across her features.
She didn’t answer, just held out her cup to Corvus for a refill.
‘You’re not going to throw this one over me, are you?’
Rillirin found a smile and gave him a non-committal shrug, though Valan’s calm concern had clearly rattled her. Corvus filled her cup and thought again of his earlier plans, that he’d take her as consort to honour the sibling union of the gods, then make her his queen as the Mireces kings of old had done. Once the babe was born, she’d do anything to be near it, even if it was the Dark Lady reborn. Women were sentimental like that.
‘Do you have everything you need for the rite, Blessed One?’ Corvus asked in a belated attempt to heal the cracks in their relationship.
The tilt of Lanta’s chin told him it was too late for that. ‘Our preparations to place the child on the Dark Path continue. We are ready; we need only for your sister to push it out.’
Rillirin rubbed her palms over her belly and smiled sweetly. ‘Keep waiting, bitch,’ she said with friendly malice. ‘I’m weeks away yet. Plenty of time for you all to die screaming.’
Corvus’s mouth fell open but then he burst out laughing, his amusement increasing at the blistering anger radiating from the Blessed One. Rillirin grinned at him, lifted her glass and saluted, and then swallowed. He returned her gesture, aware of the whiteness of Lanta’s knuckles. No one laughed at the Blessed One. No one.
‘I am glad your failures thus far sit so easy on you, Sire,’ Lanta said with brittle ice coating each word. ‘I, for one, have found little to laugh at in the months since our Bloody Mother was taken from us.’
‘Oh, Blessed One, you misunderstand,’ Rillirin said, still smiling. ‘My brother the king laughs only because otherwise he would weep. Is that not so?’
‘Careful, Princess,’ Corvus said, his mirth withering. ‘You may be my sister, but my loyalties are firmly with the gods. The Blessed One has my full support. In fact, I have selected a dozen of our surviving women to train with you and Gull in the priesthood, Blessed One. You take too much upon yourselves,’ he said with false solicitude. ‘I would not see you exhausted beyond reason when it can be prevented.’ And I will have a replacement Voice of the Gods ready for when this is all over.
He turned to Rillirin before Lanta could splutter a reply. ‘And as for rescue, Rill, best you face up to the facts: there’s no one coming for you.’
Rillirin stroked her belly again, an intimate, soothing gesture. Her gaze was even, confident. ‘If you say so.’