Shadow War by Deborah Chester Read Free Book Online

“Sir, I
bring you this day’s victory.”
    Formal words,
demanded by tradition and spoken countless times before. Yet they didn’t begin
to say all that he meant or all that he yearned for.
    Let it be true, he prayed in his weary heart. Oh, Gault, in thy mercy, let this man keep his
word to me as I have kept mine to him.
    “And I accept this
victory, fought on this auspicious day in my name,” the prince said. His
baritone voice rang out loudly, carrying across the hushed stands.
    A servant joined
him with a silk pillow supporting the victory crown of ivy. As Caelan bowed,
the prince set the crown on his head. The leafy vines scratched, as usual.
    “You have served
us well, champion,” the prince said. “You have defeated an enemy of the empire,
as our armies will defeat the Madruns and drive them far from our borders.”
    Cheering surged
up, drowning out his words until the prince lifted his hands. With quiet
restored, he continued. “We thank you, champion. We admire your strength,
courage, and fighting prowess, shown this day as never before. In appreciation
of this magnificent effort, which has more than surpassed my expectations, I
wish to give you a special reward.”
    Caelan’s gaze
snapped up, and his heart surged. Suddenly his ears were roaring. He tried to
swallow and couldn’t. His eyes filled with tears that he struggled manfully to
hold back.
    Tirhin smiled,
glancing around to be sure the crowd was still watching. “Here is a personal
token of my pleasure.”
    As he spoke, he
took a heavy gold chain off the pillow. “Wear it with pride, my champion.”
    Caelan stood
there, stricken and silent. Disappointment crashed through him, and he felt as
though he were falling a very long distance.
    A frown touched
the prince’s features momentarily, and he cleared his throat.
    Belatedly, Caelan
somehow managed to bow his head, although his neck felt so stiff he thought it
might snap. Tirhin slipped the chain around Caelan’s throat, and a smith
appeared from the crowd to close the final link.
    Then the prince
leaned near and whispered into Caelan’s ear in a voice that was low and
furious, “You fool, you weren’t to take a scratch. If you collapse publicly
from this stunt, I shall see your soul damned for all eternity.”
    With that, he
extended his hand to Caelan, who had to kneel and press Tirhin’s fingertips to
his sweaty brow.
    Fresh cheering
swelled, but in Caelan’s heart there was only fire and bitter disillusionment.
What cruel betrayal was this? His master was a fair man. They had bargained
squarely. The prince had given his word ... somehow Caelan choked off the
desperate round of thoughts spinning through his brain.
    He climbed to his
feet, although the effort made him dizzy, and held on. He was too proud now to
show any weakness. Nor would he meet the prince’s gaze again, fearing he would
not be able to conceal his fury.
    The prince stepped
back and lifted his arms in a cheerful wave to the crowd. He was still smiling.
But his eyes were like stones.
    With more waves
for the crowd, he walked back up the steps.
    Caelan stood
there, stunned. That was it. That was all. Whatever he had expected, it was not
this. As he watched his master’s retreating back, Caelan’s temper rose. Of all
the ungrateful ...
    An attendant
prodded his arm, distracting him from his furious disappointment. Recalling
where he was, Caelan executed a very small, very stiff bow to the prince’s
retreating back.
    There remained the
crowd, chanting his name. Like an endless sea, the faces surrounded him, held
back only by the soldiers.
    Caelan battled
himself, trying to believe there would be more later. He was a fool to expect
the prince to free him on the spot.
    Yet a little voice
in his heart whispered, He could have.
    Crossing the arena
had never been so difficult. It took an eternity, and despite the crisp winter
air Caelan was sweating. He could feel himself weakening with every step, yet
he kept his chin high