The Road to Hell - eARC Read Free Page A

gets wind of what we’re doing, he wouldn’t be above assassinating the best candidates.”
    Smiles vanished, replaced by angry determination.
    “Your Majesty,” Shamir Taje’s words were chipped ice, “I will personally shoot anyone who so much as breathes a syllable of what you just said.”
    Zindel saw exactly the same fire in the eyes of every member of the Privy Council and he nodded in profound satisfaction. If he hadn’t trusted them completely, they wouldn’t have been on his Privy Council. And he knew Security ran periodic probes, from time to time, just to be sure. The families of the personal armsmen who guarded the Ternathian Imperial Family had, for generations, bred some of the oddest, most useful, and occasionally downright terrifying Talents on Sharona. Talents they very carefully never discussed with anyone but themselves and a reigning emperor or empress…and which they would be using once again very shortly.
    If there were a turncoat on his staff, he’d know it within minutes.
    There were times—many of them—when Zindel chan Calirath hated the knowledge that his armsman spied regularly upon honest and honorable men and women who’d sworn solemn oaths of allegiance to him and demonstrated their loyalty so frequently. But when Andrin’s life was at stake, he would take no chances. Not even with men and women he’d trusted for thirty years. Not when all it would take was thirty seconds to put his child’s life back into the crucible.
    Shamir Taje caught his eye. The tiniest of nods told him Taje had guessed far more than he’d been told about Imperial Security. Guessed and approved.
    Zindel returned that nod decisively.
    “All right, people, let’s get to work. We have a royal consort to choose and a war to win. Shamir, I need to speak to you for a moment. As for the rest of you, I suggest we get started immediately. And my friends, I’ll make one further suggestion.”
    The rest of the Privy Council paused, waiting.
    “Let’s all do our best to continue looking funereal.”
    Wicked chuckles greeted that piece of advice.
    It was a somber, even tearful, troupe that exited the chamber—thespian talent was a requirement for political leaders who operated at their level—and Zindel devoutly hoped Chava Busar would enjoy the reports of his councilors’ grief which would shortly be coming his way. He knew he could trust them to maintain the charade, and he’d have to have a word with Varena, as well. Of course, the empress had every plausible excuse to remain in seclusion for the next several days, and no doubt she would. But he’d have to see to it that she was in her box in the Conclave when the time came. He could hardly wait to see the expression on Chava’s oily face when Andrin announced her preference next week, and he knew Varena would feel the same. He intended for both of them to enjoy every delicious moment of the bastard’s outrage.
    He waited until the chamber door had closed behind the others, then turned back to Taje, and his nostrils flared.
    “I told the rest of the Council that Andrin found the answer, Shamir, and that’s at least partially true,” he said. “But it’s not the entire truth, and I think it’s time I shared something with you about Darcel Kinlafia.”
    Taje’s eyes narrowed with a sudden intensity, but he simply stood there, waiting, and Zindel smiled without any humor at all.
    “I know you’ve realized I’ve been…cultivating and supporting Voice Kinlafia’s political future. I notice that you haven’t asked me about my motives, however.”
    Only someone who knew Shamir Taje very well would have recognized the speculation in his gaze, but Zindel did know him that well. Kinlafia would very shortly be involved up to his neck in the marathon race of the first world-wide election in Sharona’s history. Those elections had been scheduled for two months after Zindel’s official coronation, and while the coronation itself had been thrown into a