Shapers of Darkness by David B. Coe

Author:David B. Coe [Coe, David B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Fantasy, Epic
Amazon: B000S1LBBI
Publisher: Tor Books
Published: 2010-04-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter

Fifteen

Curtell, Braedon, Elined’s Moon waning

t had been more than half a turn since Kayiv’s death, since Nitara had killed him. In the days since, those who lived in the palace of Emperor Harel the Fourth had spoken of little else. Whispered conjecture about their love affair and Kayiv’s ties to the shadowy Qirsi conspiracy drifted among the corridors and bedchambers of the great palace like smoke from a distant fire. And just as the smell of a fire will linger long after the last flame is extinguished, the subtle scent of fear that accompanied these whispers clung to every bed linen, every tapestry, every shred of clothing until the palace reeked of it.

Yet in all this time, and in all these conversations, no one had attempted to cast any doubt on her story. He tried to force himself on me, she had said that day. He loved me still and couldn’t bear the thought that I no longer loved him. For how could I love any man who had betrayed the realm? Knife wounds on her shoulder and breast and hand, a bloodied lip, her clothes torn and stained with the minister’s blood, she had looked every bit the victim of frustrated passion and rage. None of them thought to question her. Certainly it never occurred to any of them that she would wound herself, that she would draw Kayiv to her with the promise of a kiss, only to drive a hidden dagger into his chest.

Yet she had done all of that and more. Such was the power of her love for the Weaver. And though she knew that they couldn’t be together yet, that Dusaan’s heart and brilliant mind were intent on his plans for the coming war, she knew as well that someday she would be his queen. He had all but said it in the days following the minister’s death. She had only to wait. She had killed for him, and she would be rewarded.

Were it not for her memory of Kayiv’s last words to her, murmured as his life’s blood flowed over her clothes and his breath against her face slackened, she would have been content merely to wait for their victory.

“I loved you so.”

She could hear the words in the keening of the winds that blew down from the Crying Hills, as they always did during the growing turns. She could hear them in the distant rumble of thunder from yet another storm and in the steady rhythm of the rain on the palace roof. They haunted her dreams and seemed to wake her in the morning, like the whispered greeting of a lover.

“I loved you so.”

Nitara still wasn’t certain why Kayiv had risked so much in the days before his death. Surely he must have known that Dusaan would punish him for his betrayal. She could only guess that perhaps he had thought to win back her love by destroying the high chancellor. If so, he had misjudged her and the depth of her feelings for the Weaver.

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