Shadow Queen - By Deborah Kalin Page 0,81

senses felt on high alert, taking in the lamps throwing shadows around the single, cloth-walled room. Braziers either side of the entrance radiated warmth and the sweet, cloying stench of burning dung. A man stood with his back to me, bent over a table in the centre of the tent.

The officer prodded me further inside. ‘The witch, General,’ he said.

The man straightened and turned. His eyes were pale and piercing as frost. Amalia’s eyes. Ravens above, it seemed he was Dieter’s brother. How then had he come by an Ilthean name and army?

‘Sidonius,’ I said.

‘My men did not bother to learn your name. I presume you have one?’ he greeted me in turn.

‘Matilde,’ I replied, opting against meekness. ‘Daughter of Luitger Svanaten and Laleh of the Nilofen, niece of Helena Svanaten, granddaughter of Beata – rightful Duethin of the Turasi. You speak my language well.’

Good, child, Grandmother murmured in the back of my mind. Disarm him, unsettle him. Settled is certain. You can’t afford for him to be certain against you.

‘I should do,’ he returned. ‘It’s my milk-tongue. Which is how I know that anyone who can take and hold the throne is the only rightful Duethin.’

‘Anyone with might enough can take the throne, General. Holding it is the trick.’

‘Indeed,’ he said, with a crooked smile.

I wrapped my arms around my ribs, nursing the pain. ‘Might I enquire as to your purpose, General? I can’t help but notice you’re marching an army unerringly towards my palace.’

‘My brother’s palace, actually, at this precise moment,’ he corrected. ‘And throne, too – although he’ll soon be sitting it under the auspices of the Ilthean emperor.’

Sidonius’s clear confidence sent chills down my spine. If Dieter and he had an alliance, my ploy was beyond foolhardy. The memory of Clay, however, and his implacable grip on my leg, firmed my resolve. Allied with Dieter or not, Sidonius was the only thing between me and the golem right now.

‘If he refuses?’ I said, keeping my fear in check with an effort.

‘He’ll be vacating it in favour of one less squeamish.’

‘I see,’ I said, letting a smile touch my lips.

He pushed a stool towards me with a foot, inviting me to sit with a lift of his chin. I didn’t hesitate: pride could only keep me upright for so long. A throne is a state of mind, child, Grandmother added, so I inclined my head in a gesture learnt at her knee and, spreading my skirts as if they were the glorious garb of a queen, I sat. My ribs sent a burst of pain through my lungs at the movement, forcing me to clutch the seat’s edge before I could regain my breath.

Sidonius leant back against his table and crossed his arms over his chest. ‘I suppose this is where you tell me how you come into the picture?’

‘I am his wife, General. One might imagine he’d be eager to see me returned,’ I said, offering an elusive smile.

‘One might also imagine he’s already taken what he needs from you,’ Sidonius countered.

‘I presume your men told you of the creature we escaped.’

Though he neither assented nor denied it, the flicker of interest in his eyes told me they had.

‘It was wrought by my husband, to recapture me,’ I continued.

Sidonius glanced over my head, seeking confirmation from the officer. I prayed the distance had clouded their vision enough for the encounter to have appeared as though Clay was trying to capture me, not kill me. Behind me, the officer must have assented.

‘So he wants you back,’ Sidonius said. ‘Why?’

‘I dare say he wants an heir, General. Men in the midst of building empires generally do.’

‘An exceedingly good reason for me not to return you to him.’

‘Fine by me,’ I shot back, though it came out more quietly than I’d have liked, my voice nigh buried by the pain of Dieter’s betrayal. Perhaps that helped. ‘I thought we were looking for ways to bend Dieter to your will. I never insisted you honour your bargains.’

He grunted. ‘You would have made a good Ilthean matron.’

‘I am my aunt’s niece.’

His pale gaze, so like Amalia’s, pinned me, and again I wondered at his ancestry, how he and Dieter fitted together as kin. To judge by his looks he was between Dieter and Amalia in age. How had the middle child landed in the snake’s pit when the elder and younger had not?

‘Indeed,’ he said, pushing up and away from the table, then turning back to study whatever it was he