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  He went up all those hundreds of steps faster than he had run up an aerie since he was a cadet.

  If the prince was alive, then there were two claimants to the throne...a proclamation of bastardy against one, which meant high treason against the queen dowager...and he had orders to find Vindax and take him to Ramo...and also orders which effectively told him to arrest the duke of Foan also and take him...He ran.

  He emerged gasping and panting in the brilliant sunlight, blinked, and pushed past a line of silent men. And stopped--like them, frozen.

  There, certainly, was Shadow.

  He was outside the bars--in fact, he was standing on the perching wall, with no safety belt visible, in a gap between the birds, but he was at one side of the gap, right next to Lady Elosa's silver, and he was keeping his balance by leaning a hand against her wing.She was unhooded!

  Ninomar felt suddenly sick.

  The bird had turned her head to watch the crowd gathering within the cage and was apparently ignoring the vulnerable human being beside her. He looked tiny in comparison; she towered over him.

  A line of giant eagles and one tiny man. No hood?

  It was impossible--Shadow's head should be inside her crop already.

  "Good sky to you, Vice-Marshal," Shadow said. "I see you have a new pretty." The star had fallen out of the tunic.

  Ninomar was beyond speech. He could only pant and gape at this miracle. He heard more feet on the stairs behind him.

  Shadow was on the darkward side of the aerie, so the sun was shining through on him. He had unfastened the front of his flying suit, and his bony chest was shiny with sweat, but that must be from the heat of the sun only. He was showing no other sign of fear in spite of the terrible danger of his position. He held his helmet in his free hand, and he had a bandage over one ear. There were healing scars on his face, and that face held something that had not been there before: a hardness or wariness. It was not fear. It was perhaps anger or the stain of an ordeal.

  Even if the bird did not bite his head off, she could topple him backward off that wall with the slightest movement. Ninomar thought of the drop and shuddered. Ukarres had talked of a table smashed halfway to Allaban.

  There was something odd about that flying suit: some object fastened to the back of it and thick straps dangling down the front. Ninomar wondered vaguely what they were for, but mostly he was waiting for that eagle to strike.

  The duke had pushed in beside him, and two gasping footmen were setting down Ukarres.

  "Come off there!" Ninomar said quietly, not able or daring to shout. "You're out of your mind."

  "I prefer to remain, Vice-Marshal," Shadow said. "Thank you." In his brown flying suit he seemed to glow against the dark sky behind him.

  "Obviously you have been to Allaban," Ukarres said calmly. Having been carried, he was the only one not out of breath.

  "Obviously," Shadow said. "I understand, Keeper, that King Aurolron is dead."

  The duke nodded. The stairs were quiet now, but the entire population of the castle must be crowded in behind him, every one tongue-tied.

  "He was murdered by King Shadow."

  "That story I deem worthy of careful review," Shadow said. "God save King Vindax!"

  There was silence.

  "I was told you brought a message from...Vindax," the duke said.

  Shadow nodded toward one side of the group. "Tuy Rorin has it."

  The groom edged sideways toward the duke, unable to take his eyes off Shadow. He held out a parchment. The duke snatched it.

  "This should be discussed in private. Come down to my study. I promise you safe conduct."

  The younger man shook his head angrily. "Your hospitality is flawed, Keeper. I stay here. Please read that out; it concerns the vice-marshal, also--and everybody, I suppose. I can quote it from memory, if you prefer."

  The duke hesitated. "Very well." He raised his voice. "I shall read this document, but you will all understand that I am merely reading it and not making any judgment on it. Whatever it is, it may be total rubbish and a forgery. I quote:

  "'Crown Prince Vindax of Rantorra to his cousin, the duke of Foan, etc., and to whomever else it may concern: Greetings. Know that I am alive and in good hands, although I have suffered serious injury from the...'" His voice trailed off.

  "Read it, Keeper!" Shadow said. "Or I shall tell them what it says anyway."

  The duke glared at him briefly and then continued. "'...serious injury from the attempt on my life, made by a person known to you. Please forward this letter to my royal parents at once, so that their worries may be relieved, and see to it that the would-be assassin is brought to justice. I shall remain here until I am well enough to travel, but this may be a hectoday or longer. I have been assured by the persons exercising authority here that no constraint will be put upon me. I am also assured by them that I shall not be required to recognize in any way their status, nor abrogate nor diminish in any fashion the claims of my mother or my father or ultimately of myself as their heir, in Allaban. Sealed by my hand in Allaban, this nine thousand two hundred and fifty-third day of the reign of Aurolron XX. Vindax P.'"

  "God save King Vindax!" Shadow said again, quietly, and again there was silence.

  "This proves nothing!" the duke snapped, crumpling the parchment.

  "It is his signet," Shadow replied. "At least it proves that I found him. Or his body. Right?"

  Ninomar took the crumpled ball from the duke and straightened it. "It is the correct signet," he said.

  "I have permission to take a person designated by you to Allaban to meet the prince, the king now," Shadow said. "He will be returned safely within four days and will confirm that Vindax is alive, although still very ill."

  "How do you propose to get by the wilds on Eagle Dome?" Ninomar demanded.

  "I came that way," Shadow said. "They will be no problem. You agree, Keeper?"

  Vonimor suddenly bellowed, "That Karaman! I told you in Schagarn--"

  "Silence!" the duke roared.

  "I know about Schagarn, Keeper," Shadow said. For the first time his cold expression softened, almost into a smile. "It is suddenly very relevant, isn't it?"

  He stood there, glowing against the sky, and it seemed that the whole audience was still holding its breath. Why did the bird not attack him?

  Ninomar took a step forward. "King Jarkadon has been proclaimed. He has issued a declaration--"

  "Silence!" the duke roared again.

  "With respect, Your Grace," Ninomar said firmly, wondering how much of this sudden courage was from the lingering effects of the wine, "these are public matters. Very well! I have orders which do not recognize the status of Vindax as crown prince--"

  "Or as a prince at all, I suppose?" Shadow interrupted. A quiet sigh went around the whole group.

  "I have orders to take that person to Ramo."

  "Go ahead and try," Shadow said.

  "I also have, downstairs, a promotion for Ensign Sald Harl to the rank of flight commander."

  The lone young man's face turned furious red in the sunlight. "Take that to Ramo and stuff it in his royal ear!"

  "Shadow," the duke said quietly, "there is more. King Aurolron had apparently put your parents in the cells. King Jarkadon has released them."

  Shadow's eyes narrowed, and he stiffened. "That would be because of you, Keeper, I suppose?" he said.

  "I don't know," the duke said.

  "How do you feel about tyrants who use family members as hostages?" Shadow demanded bitterly. "If you are suggesting that I should trust Jarkadon, then I can only say that I knew him when he was a small boy. He was a little turd then, and he is a bigger turd now. You know what his father said about him."

  Ninomar gulped at such treason.

  "Ukarres!" the duke roared, spinning around. "Did you show him that letter?"

  "Yes, he did," Shadow said. "You knew Aurolron--he always offered the small end of the egg."

  There appeared to be a standoff. IceF
ire turned her head to look at something, and the spectators stiffened, but nothing more happened. The other birds were absolutely still, eerily so.

  The duke stepped forward beside Ninomar. "Shadow," he said, "leave personalities out of this. We have matters of very grave import here. You say you know about Schagarn. I think that others do not. I also am summoned to court, and I would want to disclose those hidden things to His Majesty. Would you agree to allow me a hectoday to go to Ramo and return, without any change in the present status?"

  Ninomar was getting very tired of hearing about this Schagarn and of not hearing about it.

  Shadow shook his head. "l do not meddle in politics, Keeper, and I have no authority to do so. I will give you my personal opinion, though: Nothing is likely to happen within the next hectoday. But that is only my opinion, and it carries no weight."

  "The king should know," the duke said.

  "But who is the king?" Shadow asked. "You are the authority on the Rand. Do I return and tell King Vindax that he has your loyalty? Or do you support the usurper, Jarkadon?"

  Nicely put, Ninomar thought. And he himself must make that decision also, on behalf of the few royal troopers he had with him. If his choice was not the same as the duke's, then he was going to be in the castle dungeon before three bells.

  "I think I need time to consider," the duke said. "Again I offer you my hospitality, upon the honor of my house."

  "And again I decline it. Decide."

  The duke had gone very pale, and Ninomar suspected that he was not much better himself. Jarkadon's two sets of orders showed that news of his brother's survival would not provoke an abdication.

  "You are accusing me of conniving in an attempt to murder Vindax," the keeper said at last. "Yet you want me to do homage to him? Would he accept it?"

  Now it was Shadow who hesitated. "We did not know of the king's death," he admitted. He shrugged. "It makes no difference. Vindax agrees that you were not privy to the plot, so he will accept your fealty. But the assassin must be punished--he is adamant on that."

  Now--and much too late, he knew--Ninomar realized that they were discussing Elosa. After NailBiter launched, her bird had been next to the prince's. He and the bishop had never even considered Elosa. A child? But she could have done it, and the prince could have seen, albeit too late to stop his launch. The official inquiry had failed, then, and there was another problem.

  The duke was silent, and his shaded face was visibly running sweat. If he supported Jarkadon, then the proclamation of bastardy effectively named him as a traitor for fathering Vindax and he must turn against his own son as a pretender. If he supported Vindax, then his daughter was a would-be assassin and therefore a traitor and he would also be in rebellion against the established court.

  So the duke must choose between son and daughter. And if Vindax was not his son--and the duke at least could not be in doubt--then he was certainly the true king, but the duke's daughter must be sacrificed...while if Vindax was truly his son, then he was still a traitor and he and the queen dowager could suffer traitors' deaths, regardless of who was on the throne...Ninomar's head was spinning.

  "Go back to your Vindax," the duke said, "and ask a pardon. Bring it here--"

  "No!" Shadow said. "Kneel now, here, before me, and pledge your unconditional allegiance to King Vindax VII, or I return and tell him that you are in league with the usurper Jarkadon."

  This was a commoner speaking to the premier noble?

  "Then your Vindax will remain forever an exile in Allaban!"

  "What was done at Schagarn is ended," Shadow replied quietly. "What if Vindax joins forces with the republic to recover his throne? You threaten war, Keeper? Kneel and swear!"

  The duke moved as fast as an eagle. Two steps, and he had snatched a bow from one tub and an arrow from another and the bow was drawn and the feather at his eye before Ninomar knew what was happening.

  But Shadow had moved also--he spun around and leaped out into space and was gone, as the arrow passed where he had been.

  Women and men screamed in unison.

  Deliberately, IceFire hunched and launched and vanished; Ninomar had not noticed that she had been unshackled. Elosa wailed loudly.

  But Shadow? Ninomar thought of that terrible drop and the smashed table, and he suddenly slid to his knees and vomited up great quantities of mulled wine. When he had recovered, people were streaming down the stairs and a few others were having hysterics and yet others had hooded the birds and slipped between them to peer over the edge and look down into the darkness at the body.

  "Well, that is the end of him," he said aloud. "He must have been completely crazy all along, and the prince is dead."

  There was a dry wheeze behind him. "He was not crazy," Ukarres said. "He has been to Allaban. That was not the end of him."

  After a moment he added, "But it may be the end of us."

  Chapter 13

  "It served us damn well right!"

  --Ryl Karaman

  ON the day after he arrived at Allaban, Shadow had flown with Karaman to Femie, there to meet his prince.

  He had been warned, but no warning could have fully prepared him. Karaman had not thought to mention the nauseating stench of gangrene, or the madness that days of unbearable agony put into a man's eyes, or the flatness of the bandages on a face whose nose had been killed by frostbite and so amputated. There was irony in that. Vindax would not look like the duke of Foan now, he would not look like anyone.

  There was more horrible irony. His hands were bandaged stumps, and the doctors thought the rest of the fingers would have to go also, but he had lost no toes. So he had feet but no real hands; yet his arms were uninjured and his legs paralyzed. Sky sickness was caused by bubbles in the blood, Karaman said, quoting the ancient texts. At some point in her frenzy WindStriker had plunged down almost to the desert floor, to air of great pressure. Then she must have soared high again. Eagles could do that; men could not. The return to the depths at hot, suffocating Femie had not been made in time to prevent the damage.

  The doctors thought that the patient might live but were still not sure.

  Shadow stared in silence at the bundled horror on the bed and said a prayer that Vindax might die. Ukarres had indeed been lucky.

  But honor required that he speak the prince's name, and the eyes opened in the gap left for them within the bandages. They stared for a long time blankly, as though there were no mind behind them. Then the lips twisted into a smile.

  "I knew you would come," Vindax whispered. After that, Shadow was looking through tears and did not need to see the details.

  Karaman cut the visit short; he made the return journey slowly, stopping frequently at isolated farmhouses to chat with old friends. He introduced "Citizen Shadow" to innumerable people, all of whom offered food and hospitality and wanted to reminisce about old times, it was not mere socializing, he assured Shadow--a gradual ascent was more wisdom from the ancient texts. Shadow was too shocked and depressed to care.

  These easy-living rural folk rang no watch bells, taking their time undivided. When Karaman reached home with Shadow, they sat on the porch, Karaman in his ancient rocker, Shadow slumped on the couch. His body was telling him that it was time for bed, yet between him and the view of fields and sunlit orchards glimmered that anonymous bandaged head and its mad eyes, and he doubted that he would ever sleep again.

  Karaman disappeared briefly and came back with two mugs and a few large crocks. "We make an excellent cider here," he suggested.

  "I'll get drunk," Shadow growled.

  Karaman chuckled. "That was what I said."

  So they sat and quaffed cider and talked, and Karaman told of many things which should have been unbelievable and were somehow not when wrapped in his gentle, casual good humor. Shadow drank three mugfuls to each of Karaman's and eventually spoke of politics and attempted murder and of Vindax. The generation-long silence which had hung over Eagle Dome was breached, and slowly the nightmare vision standi
ng guard in his mind became blurred.

  "When was the prince born?" Karaman asked.

  "Why?" Shadow said cautiously.

  The old eyes twinkled in their wrinkles as the old man saw that Shadow was not quite drunk enough to lose all discretion. "Just nosy. He looks so like the duke."

  "He did!" Shadow said. "But the duke says he never met you."

  "Then call one of us a liar," Karaman replied. "Me, by choice--it would be safer. Aurolron must have noticed. I wonder why he did not disown the prince? Not in character!"

  "He never met the duke," Shadow said, wondering if that was a lie also, thinking of that strange letter Ukarres had shown him.

  Karaman smiled. "Once I spent several days with both of them together. Certainly call me a liar before you try it on the king."

  A meeting between the king and the rebel? Fuzzily Shadow pondered that. It must have been a very well-kept secret. Yet he could believe this threadbare, patched old man more easily than Aurolron or his premier noble.

  "Where? At Ninar Foan? On the Rand?"

  Karaman shook his head, holding out the cider crock once more. "On the Range, at a little place called Schagarn."

  "I know it," Shadow said, surprised. "One of the royal manors. He used it as a hunting lodge before he gave up flying."

  "Right," Karaman said. The two men stared out over the hills for a while, waiting on each other to speak.

  "Was the queen there?" Shadow asked at last. He saw the twinkle return to Karaman's eyes.

  "No. We're a pair of old gossips, friend Shadow."

  Shadow giggled drunkenly, then became serious. "So far as Vindax knows, it was not possible for the duke to have fathered him. He was born on 1374."

  There was a long silence, then Karaman said, "I would not say this to anyone else, but you have earned his confidence and I shall give you mine. Yes, it was possible. Just. 1170 or thereabouts."