Picking up where The Shadow Queen left off, this
8th novel
in the Black Jewel Series connects to characters featured in
The Invisible Ring.
Plain-featured Lady Cassidy has become Queen of troubled
Dena Nehele; a land torn by mistrust and betrayal. Even her
Circle of Twelve, men who should owe her their first
loyalty, is fractured by the damage done by the previous
rulers and expectations fostered during the long years of
revolt. In order to survive her trial year as Queen, Cassidy
must overcome the Achilles heel of her past to blossom into
the leader she needs to become, to bring the land to peace.
Although this is the first book I have read from the
Black
Jewels series, Bishop provided enough background to allow me
to become immersed in the lives of the characters and the
unique challenges her fantasy realm presents.
As with most fantasy novels, the world is almost a character
unto itself, but Anne Bishop has the skill to let the
characters of the story shine against that backdrop, rather
than being overshadowed by complexities of the land in which
they live.
Within the first chapter I became invested in the conflict
between Ranon, survivor of a persecuted minority; and
Theran, raised to be a ruler in the newly cleansed Dena
Nehele. The mysteries of Grey, would-be consort to the
queen kept me reading, wondering how he could possibly
overcome the torturous damage he suffered on behalf of
Theran.
Previous characters are not merely trotted out to provide
ties to the other books , but are woven integrally into the
plot. And what a plot. Although I can often determine the
general outcome of a story before I am half-way through the
book, SHALADOR'S LADY kept me guessing, and provided an
eminently satisfying resolution.
Return to the "intense...erotic...and imaginative" (Nancy
Kress) world of the national bestselling Black Jewels novels
in this sequel to The Shadow Queen.
For
years the Shalador people suffered the cruelties of the
corrupt Queens who ruled them, forbidding their traditions,
punishing those who dared show defiance, and forcing many
more into hiding. Now that their land has been cleansed of
tainted Blood, the Rose-Jeweled Queen, Lady Cassidy, makes
it her duty to restore it and prove her ability to rule.
But even if Lady Cassidy succeeds, other dangers
await. For the Black Widows see visions within their tangled
webs that something is coming that will change the land-and
Lady Cassidy-forever...
Excerpt
As tales of the new Queen’s heart and courage spread
through the Territory of Dena Nehele, the Black Widows felt
something tremble through the land. But when they spun their
tangled webs of dreams and visions, what they saw gave them
little comfort.
Many saw honey pear trees, heavy with ripe fruit, growing
out of rotting bodies that had been left on the killing
fields. A few saw a new beginning that was draped in the
colors of sunset. Nothing they saw offered clarity--only the
certainty that something was coming that would change Dena
Nehele forever.
In Ebon Askavi, the Sanctuary of Witch, another Black Widow
studied the dreams and visions in her tangled web--and saw
more than the other Black Widows ever could.
Tears fell from her sapphire eyes, but even she could not
have said if those tears were born of sorrow or of joy.
Chapter 1
Terreille
Ranon stepped out on the terrace behind the Grayhaven
mansion, closed his dark eyes, and raised the wood flute to
his lips. Then he hesitated while a lifetime of caution
warred with the hope he felt because of Lady Cassidy, the
Queen who now ruled the Territory of Dena Nehele.
Because there was hope, and fledgling trust, Ranon took a
breath and began to play a greeting to the sun--a song that
had not been heard outside of the Shalador reserves for
many, many years. Even there, it had not been played openly.
His grandfather had taught him this song and every other
song the Tradition Keepers had held on to since the Shalador
people fled the ruins of their own Territory generations ago
and settled in the southern part of Dena Nehele. The people
had thrived there and put down roots, respecting the
traditions of Dena Nehele but never forgetting their
own--and hoping, always hoping, that someday they would have
a Territory of their own again.
It had been good land once, and a good place to live when
it had been ruled by the Gray-Jeweled Queens. Then Lia died,
and Dena Nehele’s decline began. Queens who were backed by
Dorothea SaDiablo, Hayll’s High Priestess, gained control
within a couple of generations. Dorothea hated the people of
Dena Nehele for holding out against her for so long, but she
hated the Shalador people even more because of Jared, the
Red-Jeweled Shalador Warlord who had been husband and
Consort to Lia Grayhaven, the last Gray Lady to rule Dena
Nehele.
Because Dorothea hated Jared’s people, her pet Queens
ground away a little more of what was uniquely Shalador with
each generation. The boundaries of the reserves where the
Shaladorans had settled were whittled away until now they
struggled to grow enough crops to feed themselves. The
Shalador traditions were forbidden. The dances, the music,
the stories--all were taught in secret and at great risk.
His paternal grandfather was a Tradition Keeper of music. A
strong, quiet man, Yairen had been--and still was--a
respected leader in Eyota, the village where Ranon had grown
up. He was also a gifted musician who believed it was his
duty to teach the young how to play the songs that had
shaped the Shalador heart.
The Province Queen who controlled that reserve broke
Yairen’s hands as punishment for teaching the forbidden--and
then broke them twice more. When they healed the last time,
Yairen could barely hold a flute much less play one. But he
still taught his grandson, and he taught him well, despite
the crippled hands.
So this music had been a secret for most of Ranon’s life.
Even when he admitted to playing the flute, he never played
within the hearing of anyone he couldn’t trust--and even
then, he rarely played the songs of Shalador.
Did the Queen he now served understand how much trust was
required for him to stand here and play the music of his
people? Probably not. Lady Cassidy had recognized his
reluctance to play, but not even Shira, the Black Widow
Healer who was his lover, understood how deeply fear and
hope had twined in his heart these past few days as the
flute’s notes floated on the air and became a part of the
world. Yes, he was afraid, but the hope of something new and
better was the reason he stood here, in a place that had
been a stronghold for the twisted Queens, and played music
that had been forbidden.
As one song followed another, Ranon let his heart soar with
the notes and fill with a joyful peace.
“How long do you have to spend serenading the little green
things before you can have breakfast?”
He opened his eyes and lowered the flute. The peace he’d
felt a moment before vanished as Theran Grayhaven stepped
out on the terrace.
He and Theran didn’t like each other. Never had. But he
detected nothing in the question except polite interest.
“A quarter of an hour.” Ranon glanced at the hourglass
hovering in the air next to him. Judging by how much sand
was in the bottom of the glass, he’d played twice that long.
“Gray says it will help the honey pear trees grow.”
“Does he really think they’ll wilt and die if you don’t
stand out here playing music?” Theran asked as he studied
the thirteen pots that were sheltered by the raised flower
beds that formed the terrace wall.
Ranon’s heart gave a hard bump at the thought of any of the
little honey pear trees dying, but he wouldn’t admit to
anyone how much the living symbols of the past meant to
him. Jared had brought six honey pear trees to this land.
One of them had been planted here at Grayhaven for Lia and
had remained in the gardens long after it died as a mocking
symbol of the Gray-Jeweled Queens who had once ruled. But
that dead tree had hidden thirteen honey pears, carefully
preserved. Lia had hidden them; Cassidy had found them as
the first step to locating the Grayhaven treasure. Because
of that, those little trees were a thread of shining hope
that linked the past and the present.
“Doesn’t matter what Gray thinks,” Ranon replied. “It is
the Queen’s pleasure that I play the flute each morning for
the honey pears, so I play.”
He knew the phrasing was a mistake the moment he said it.
“Well, we all play for the Queen’s pleasure in one way or
another, don’t we?” Theran said. Then he glanced at Ranon
and added with a touch of malice, “Better play faster or
there won’t even be porridge left by the time you get to the
table, let alone meat and eggs.”
I guess we’re not trying to get along anymore, Ranon
thought. Since he made no secret of it, everyone in the
court knew he hated porridge. Which meant Theran had said
that in order to jab at him. Why? Because they didn’t like
each other, and the effort to be civil rarely lasted for
more than a few minutes at a time?
Hell’s fire. Grayhaven had been running hot and cold since
Cassidy found the treasure and proved she was meant to rule
here, but they were all committed to working together for
the good of the land and the Queen.
For the good of the land, anyway. The other eleven men who
made up the First Circle knew Theran didn’t feel the same
commitment to Cassidy that they felt. Serving in her court
was part of the agreement Theran had made in order to bring
a Kaeleer Queen to Dena Nehele. That didn’t mean he wanted
to serve her, despite his recent efforts to work with her
instead of opposing her.
“Tell you what,” Theran added. “I’ll save my share of the
porridge for you.”
An edge of temper. A slash of heat in the air between them.
And an unspoken invitation to spill some blood.
“You’re twenty-seven,” Ranon said coldly. “I’m thirty.
We’re both too old to indulge in a pissing contest over
porridge.”
Theran jerked back as if he’d been slapped. Then, snarling,
he took a step forward.
Using Craft to vanish the hourglass and flute, Ranon
instinctively took a step to the side to give himself more
room to maneuver.
He wore an Opal Jewel; Theran wore Green. They were both
Warlord Princes, aggressive predators born to stand on the
killing fields. If they unleashed their psychic strength
against each other, they could destroy the Grayhaven mansion
and kill many of the people living here before anyone else
knew there was danger. Even without using the power that
made the Blood who and what they were, they could cause a
lot of harm to each other with just muscle and temper.
But if either of them was damaged so badly he couldn’t
serve, the court would break, and Ranon’s hope for the
Shalador people would break with it.
Remembering that, he backed away from the fight, indicating
with a subtle shift of his body that Theran was the dominant
male. Which was true, as far as the Jewels were concerned.
But only as far as the Jewels were concerned. And that, too,
Ranon conveyed with that subtle shift.
Fury flashed in Theran’s green eyes. Instead of accepting
that Ranon had yielded, he took another step forward. Then…
*Theran? Theran!*
Saved by a Sceltie, Ranon thought as he watched Theran’s
hasty retreat into the mansion moments before the small
brown-and-white dog bounded up the terrace’s steps.
“Good morning, Lady Vae,” Ranon said with more courtesy
than was required.
The little bitch growled at him.
Glancing at the Purple Dusk Jewel half hidden in her fur,
Ranon offered no challenge. Vae was kindred--the name given
to the Blood who were not human--and he’d seen her pull down
a full-grown man in a fight. His caste outranked hers, since
she was only a witch, and his Jewels outranked hers. On the
other hand, she had speed, strong jaws, and sharp teeth.
*You are not usually so foolish as other human males, so I
will not nip you this time,* Vae said.
“Thank you, Lady. I appreciate that.”
He also appreciated the implied threat that the next
offense would earn him more than a nip.
Vae trotted into the mansion, no doubt intending to
administer her own brand of justice on the other foolish male.
Ranon sighed. He’d come close to spoiling something that
was as delicate as the honey pear seedlings growing in their
pots.
Give her the best you have, Ranon, the Shalador Queens had
told him when they left yesterday evening. Show her that
Shalador’s heart and honor are worthy of such a Queen.
Cassidy was a Rose-Jeweled Queen from Dharo. A tall, gawky
woman with red hair and freckles, she was nothing like the
image of the beautiful, powerful Queen that Theran had
painted when he’d told the surviving Warlord Princes about
his plan to save Dena Nehele.
But when Ranon saw her that first day, he had felt the bond
between Warlord Prince and Queen grab hold of his heart and
gut, had felt the rightness of handing over his life to her
will. In the few weeks since her arrival, she had shown
herself worthy of that trust, and in the wake of all she had
done in the past week--fighting against a Warlord and his
two grown sons to defend a landen family, as well as
discovering the treasure that had been hidden on the
Grayhaven estate--even the Warlord Princes who had been
disappointed when they had first seen her were reassessing
the Queen behind the long, plain face.
He didn’t like Theran. He never would. But because he was
grateful for Cassidy’s presence--and because he knew how he
would have felt if he’d been required to serve a Queen he
didn’t believe in--he would do what he could to keep peace
between himself and Theran.
And to bring back a little of the peace that had been
spoiled, he called in his flute and played a while.
Theran paused in the dining room doorway and took a moment
to watch the people around the table. Despite their
commitment to serve, the men who made up the First Circle of
Cassidy’s court had been wary of her. They had seen too much
brutality done at the command of the twisted Queens who had
ruled here. And no matter what they said, he knew they had
been disappointed in their Queen’s lack of beauty and power.
Then Cassidy found the treasure that had been hidden by Lia
and Thera, the Black Widow who had been Lia’s closest
friend. Not only did that discovery restore the Grayhaven
family’s personal wealth, it had uncovered journals and
portraits that gave him and the other men in the First
Circle a glimpse of the past that had helped to shape
them--because the people in those portraits had known what
it meant to have honor. And Cassidy, by her actions, had
shown herself to be a Queen of the same caliber as Lia.
Because of those things, he had made the choice to be
Cassidy’s First Escort in more than name, to serve her as if
he felt the bond that the rest of the First Circle felt. But
he didn’t feel that bond, and despite his best intentions,
serving her scraped at him. He was grateful for what she had
accomplished so far, but he still believed that if Cassidy
could do this much, the kind of Queen he had wanted for Dena
Nehele could do so much more. The Blood who saw Cassidy had
to get past that plain face and Rose Jewel in order to
consider if she had anything to offer the land or the
people--and most of the Blood would be disappointed enough
not to bother.
Her contract to rule Dena Nehele is only for a year, Theran
thought as he walked over to the table and took a seat. I
can put up with serving her for a year. And it gives me time
to find the right Queen for Dena Nehele.
The right Queen wouldn’t stick a Shalador Warlord Prince in
his face every damn day. His only excuse for his behavior
this morning was that Ranon’s presence scraped at him even
more than Cassidy’s. He’d spent his whole life being
Grayhaven, the last descendant of the Gray Queens’ bloodline
and the man destined to become the male leader--the Warlord
Prince the other men would follow. Until he brought Cassidy
to Dena Nehele and she formed her court, that was exactly
who he had been. Now people looked at the dark hair and
golden skin that proclaimed Ranon’s heritage. Then they
looked at him, and instead of seeing Grayhaven, they saw
Shalador.
Worse than that, when men saw him with other members of the
First Circle, they responded to him as a leader, but not as
the leader. They acted like the Grayhaven name no longer
meant as much now that Cassidy was here.
Feeling spiteful and pissed off at everyone, he started to
help himself to a double serving of steak, eggs, and
potatoes--taking Ranon’s share as well as his own--but as he
stabbed the second piece of steak, Cassidy held out a clean
plate and smiled at him. Noticing how sharply the other men
around the table were watching him, he had no choice but to
give her half of everything.
When she set the plate in front of herself and didn’t eat,
resentment bubbled up. If she hadn’t wanted the food, why
had she prevented him from having it?
At least Ranon is still stuck with the porridge. Then
Theran glanced at his cousin Gray and remembered another
reason to try to get along with Cassidy.
Gray had been damaged in body and mind by the Queen who had
captured and tortured him when he was fifteen. Now, twelve
years later, Gray was finally changing emotionally and
mentally from boy to man. A boy couldn’t be Cassidy’s lover,
and that desire, that need was the force driving Gray’s
transformation.
The proof of that was a simple thing: When they had first
come back to Grayhaven, Gray had been too afraid of being
inside the mansion to eat with them. Now he was here,
sitting beside Cassidy, talking about…
“What?” Theran almost dropped the coffeepot. “We’re doing
what?”
“Going to the Shalador reserves,” Cassidy replied calmly.
“The Shalador Queens invited me. They want me to see the
land their people are subsisting on, want me to see the
truth of their concerns.”
“It’s not safe,” Theran said. It had been his automatic
response to all of Cassidy’s attempts to get out among the
people, but this time he really was concerned about her
safety and not what people would think about the Queen who
now ruled them.
He poured his coffee and began to eat because he needed to
fill his belly.
“Then it’s up to Talon as Master of the Guard and Ranon as
his second-in-command to make it safe,” Cassidy said.
“If we were going to the southern or western reserves, I
would agree with Theran,” Shira said. “They border other
Territories, and the people there are as desperate as we are
when it comes to repairing their lives and land.”
“What are you concerned about?” Cassidy asked Shira. “That
they’ll try to abduct me?”
“Yes.”
Silence around the table. A sharpening of psychic scents as
the Warlord Princes who served in the First Circle put an
edge on tempers that were always well-honed.
“You underestimate your value, Lady,” Shira said. “You
don’t know how much a good Queen is worth in Terreille.
Especially now.”
“An abducted Queen isn’t worth anything,” Cassidy
countered. “You can’t force her to rule.”
“But abducting a Queen could start another war.”
Cassidy leaned back, clearly startled by that possibility.
“Ranon’s home village is in the eastern reserve, far enough
away from other Territory borders to be safe and it’s backed
by the Tamanara Mountains,” Shira said. “Protected on all
sides.”
“But not protected from what’s inside,” Theran said.
“The Shalador people have no reason to wish Lady Cassidy
harm,” Shira said coolly.
“Prince Grayhaven, you can debate this all you want, but my
decision is made,” Cassidy said. “Five days from now, I’ll
be staying at the Shalador reserve. You, Powell, and Talon
will discuss what needs to be done in order to accomplish that.”
She would have backed down a fortnight ago, Theran thought.
She would have respected that he knew more about what Dena
Nehele needed than she did--and the other Warlord Princes
who served her wouldn’t have opposed him.
A leader, but no longer the leader.
He felt as if he’d lost something too elusive to name, but
the sense of loss was real.
“In that case, I’ll get started on the plans,” Theran said,
pushing away from the table. He picked up his plate and
coffee mug. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll finish my breakfast
while I work.”
He barely waited for her nod of dismissal, but he waited
because Protocol required it. Then he walked out of the
dining room to finish his meal away from the woman he’d
brought into his land.
Cassidy might do some good during the year she was
contracted to rule here. But letting the Shalador people
think they were more significant than the rest of Dena
Nehele wasn’t going to help anyone.
That was Ranon’s doing. He never let anyone forget that the
Shalador people had borne the brunt of the cruelty that
Dorothea’s Queens had heaped on the people of Dena Nehele.
And Ranon never let him forget that if his family name had
been anything but Grayhaven, Theran would have been living
the same desperate life on one of the reserves as the rest
of the Shalador people.
Which implied his life had been easy, and that wasn’t true.
As the last of the Grayhaven line, he’d grown up in the
rogue camps that were hidden in the Tamanara Mountains,
living among men who would fight to the death and beyond
rather than serve a Queen who wanted them to whore their
code of honor. He’d been trained by Talon, a
Sapphire-Jeweled Warlord Prince who had been demon-dead for
almost three hundred years--and who had been a friend to
both Jared and Blaed, the Warlord Prince who had helped
Jared elude Dorothea SaDiablo’s guards and get Lia back to
Dena Nehele.
Not an easy life by any measurement, but other men had
survived worse. Gray, for one.
It was only for a year, he thought as he ducked into a room
to finish his meal. Not that much could change.
As he ate, he ignored the little whisper telling him that a
great deal had changed already.
The only thing left on the table was porridge.
Ranon suppressed a sigh and took a seat beside Shira. That
put him across from Cassidy, who had a full plate of steak,
eggs, and fried potatoes.
“Coffee?” Shira asked, holding up the pot.
“Thanks.” He scraped what was left of the porridge into a
bowl. It was food, and he was thankful to have it.
That didn’t mean he had to like it.
As he dug in, Gray turned to Cassidy and asked, “Will you
be coming out to the garden to work?”
“Not this morning,” Cassidy replied. “I’m going with Shira
to check on the landen girl who was injured.”
Ranon tensed. So did every other man who was still at the
table. But no one challenged that statement, which was a
welcome change since Theran was always yapping whenever
Cassidy wanted to leave the estate.
Archerr, an Opal-Jeweled Warlord Prince, said, “Prince
Spere and I have escort duty this morning. If you think the
First Circle should show a stronger presence, I can ask
Prince Shaddo and Lord Cayle to stand as escorts too.”
Archerr kept his eyes on Cassidy, but Ranon knew the
question was directed at him as Talon’s second-in-command.
He tipped his head in a subtle nod. Additional escorts
weren’t needed to ensure Cassidy’s safety during this visit,
but it didn’t hurt to remind the townspeople that the Queen
was served and protected by strong men.
Then Gray said, “Perhaps Lady Vae would be willing to join
you.”
“I don’t think any of us could stop her,” Cassidy said.
Ranon snorted softly. Before Cassidy’s arrival, no one here
had seen a Sceltie. Vae had been an education for all of them.
Powell, the Prince who was the Steward of the court, pushed
away from the table. “With your permission, Lady, we’ll
leave you to begin the day’s work.”
Cassidy nodded. “When I return, I’ll stop at your office to
review anything that requires my attention.”
“Certainly. Ranon? When you have a moment, I’d like to
discuss the Lady’s visit to your home village.”
“I’ll join you shortly,” Ranon replied.
“Lady Shira and I will be ready in half an hour,” Cassidy
told Archerr.
“I’ll see you later,” Gray said, brushing a fingertip over
the back of Cassidy’s hand.
He’s come so far so fast, Ranon thought as Gray and the
rest of the men left the dining room. Now he’s acting more
like the Warlord Prince he should have been.
When the last man left the room, he pushed aside the
half-eaten bowl of porridge--and Cassidy pushed the full
plate of food in front of him.
“Lady,” he protested.
“I ate,” Cassidy said. “But we’ve agreed to live lean and
not cook more than we need for each meal. You were out with
the honey pear trees, and I had a feeling that there might
not be anything left by the time you got here.”
Living lean. In the reserves, winter was called the Season
of Hunger, so he knew about not wasting food. And he knew
the unspoken rule of this court: Once everyone was served,
what was left could be eaten by anyone who wanted more. The
Blood’s bodies needed more fuel than landens, and the darker
the Jewel a person wore, the more food that person needed in
order to remain a healthy vessel for the power that lived
within. So everyone was willing to eat another helping when
it was available.
Because he’d been late, and because of Theran’s remarks, he
hadn’t expected to get more than porridge that even hunger
barely made tolerable.
“If you have no objection to a solitary meal, Shira and I
really should be going.”
“I’ve no objection,” he said. He touched his fork to the
edge of the plate. “Thanks for this.”
He waited until Cassidy and Shira left. Then he began
eating with enthusiasm. As he poured the last of the coffee
from the pot, it occurred to him that Cassidy had not only
saved some food for him, she had used a warming spell on the
plate so the food wouldn’t get cold.
A small thing, perhaps. A simple courtesy. But when simple
courtesies came from a Queen, it said a great deal about how
she would treat her people--and, hopefully, how she would
treat his.