Shadow of a Dark Queen

Another man said, “Give it a rest, Biggo. We’re not temple-goers like you.”

 

 

“It was that very choking I spoke of that made me a religious man, Aaron. Why, if Shaky Jake hadn’t busted a chair over Billy the Sly’s head, I’d have died right there. I decided then it was high time I got righteous with the gods, I did. So I went off to Lims-Kragma’s temple and talked to a priest, and gave an offering, and I don’t miss a holy day unless I’m too sick to walk.” He sat back and crossed his arms. “Tomorrow, when I’m in the Death Goddess’s hall, and she says to me, ‘Biggo, you’re a liar and a thief and a murderer, even if you didn’t mean to be one, but at least you’re a pious bastard,’ I’ll smile at her and say, ‘That’s right, Your Goddessness.’ That should count for something.”

 

Erik found it hard to find anything amusing in his present circumstances, and Roo was close to tears for fear they would be joining those sentenced to die. The only three men not under the death mark were Sho Pi, Erik, and Roo. Sho Pi would be transferred to the work gang after the hanging, which he would watch as a lesson. He seemed unfazed by the prospect of spending the next thirty years hauling rocks out of the royal quarry or dredging out the royal harbor. It was rumored some young men had survived their thirty years, so it was possible he might emerge alive, someday, a broken man in his fifties who might somehow forge a life. For most men it only put off death.

 

The door at the far end of the cell opened, and Erik jerked around to see who was there, half hoping, half fearing it would be Lender. Instead it was guards with the evening meal. More bread and cheese, but this time the stew had beef in it, and there was a cup of wine for each prisoner.

 

Erik found himself hungry, despite his worry, but Roo simply ignored the food, curling up and falling into a sleep of emotional exhaustion. Most of the men ate in silence, save the Isalani, who came to sit next to Erik. He said, “You think you will go free?”

 

Erik looked off into space for a minute. “No, I think had we stayed and faced down our accusers, maybe. Had they seen the blood flowing from my shoulder from Stefan’s sword, maybe then.

 

“As it is now, I think we are probably going either to be hung or to spend out our lives working next to you on the labor gang.”

 

The Isalani said, “I don’t think so.”

 

“What makes you say that?”

 

“That woman. I don’t know why, but it was important that she see what we were thinking when we were before the Prince.”

 

“If she was reading minds, like you claim, then it was to see if we were telling the truth.”

 

“No, something else.”

 

“What?”

 

“I’m not sure. Maybe what kind of men we are.”

 

Erik finished his meal, and when Roo offered no protest, he drank his wine as well. The evening stretched on, and the door opened again.

 

Erik turned and was astonished to see Manfred von Darkmoor enter, flanked by two guards wearing the livery of Darkmoor and two others wearing the Prince’s colors.

 

Manfred motioned with his head to Erik to come to the far end of the cell where they could speak privately.

 

Erik got up slowly, and the guards stood away as the two half brothers reached the far end of the cell. Erik said nothing, waiting for Manfred to speak.

 

After looking at Erik a moment, Manfred said, “Well, I suspect you wonder why I’m here.”

 

“I would think that was obvious,” said Erik.

 

“I’m not entirely sure why I’m here, truth be told. Perhaps it’s because I have lost one brother and am about to lose another, whom I don’t know.”

 

“I may not be lost, brother,” said Erik dryly. “The Prince has taken the evidence under advisement, and I have a very gifted solicitor arguing on my behalf.”

 

“So I have heard.” Manfred looked Erik up and down. “You do look a great deal like Father, you know. But I suspect you have your mother’s steel in you.”

 

“Why do you say that?”

 

“You never knew our father; he was a weak man in many ways,” Manfred said. “I loved him, of course, but it was difficult to admire him. He avoided fights, mostly with Mother, and he hated being in the public eye.” With an ironic smile, he added, “I, on the other hand, find that I rather like it.” Picking an imagined speck from his sleeve, he said, “I don’t know if I should hate you for killing Stefan or thank you for making me Baron. But either way, Mother is up talking to the Prince right now, ensuring you go to the gallows.”

 

Erik said, “Why does she hate me so?”

 

Manfred said, “I don’t think she hates you, really. Fears you is more like it. It was our father she hated.”

 

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