Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...

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brought reinforcements in who haven't seen our visions yet; we haven't won so far that I'm not going to
keep using every advantage that comes even near my hands, notyet . If I may indulge in sounding
immodest: for nearly ten years people have thought I was headstrong or over-confident because of what
I would try. But I pulled it off often enough that people don't put it down to luck anymore. Did I or
anyone ever mention, I have a gift? You'd call itmanrauq ."
She tapped at the edge of the waxboard, thoughtfully. "Weapon-sense. Ivahn did."
"It makes darkness my advantage. In light the enemy and I each know where the other is; in the dark he
doesn't know where I am but I know wherehe is… well, I'll tell more later. So, I'm in the Arkan camp,
sauntering around, looking like this," —he struck a casual pose, with a dark little smile— "vanishing,
appearing, sometimes an illusion, sometimes real and carving out the guts of anyone who laughs at me for
being an illusion."
"And sometimes in the Imperial regalia," said Megan, the thought coming out of nowhere.
The black eyebrows flashed up for a moment; then the scheming look with the dark grin came back.
"Yes! Foreknowledge… something to make them take it as foreknowledge. Inevitable destiny." He
chortled. "You're a fiend; I'd hate to have you against me."
"I'd have to know what the regalia looks like," she said. "Do you know? Crown, scepter, royal sword or
what?"
"Oh yes, I know. He always wears the seals, a bracelet attached by a chain to a ring, one on each hand,
all gold but the four seals, the Eagle on the right bracelet, the Sun his talons are clasping on the left, on the
right ring crossed Arkan swords, on the left, a wooden ship with a house-shaped cabin. Ceremonially he
wears the robe, floor-length, jewels from collar to hem, sunbursts, swirls. Nothing on the head but hair
long as it will grow." She conjured up a brief flash of image for him to correct.I like the idea of a Yeoli
Imperator , she thought, tired, afterwards.Arko would be less obnoxious .
If they win, she thought.If he doesn't get killed. If I don't kill him .
"Those things," she found herself saying. "You've seen them far too close, too often, haven't you?" The
moment the words were out she regretted them.Familiar , she thought,as if he were a friend, not a
semanakraseye; justbecause he knows my scars doesn't mean I can ask him about his . "Excuse me,
kras ," she added quickly. "Perhaps that's too prying."
"No, not at all. And that's Chevenga to you. Of all that passed in Arko, I have nothing to hide. Yes, I've
seen it all close. The robe not so much as the seals." She raised an eyebrow, then nodded.Hands .
Arkans considered them a private part, to be covered in public; obscene.
I've got to be crazy, too, she thought. He'd talked her into it.
It was pitch dark; so much the better. Megan parted the branches of low, scrubby—willow?—bush,
whatever, with her hands. Idon't know what the Koru-forsaken thing is. I do this sort of thing a
Halya of a lot better in a nice orderly city. This time I won't end up with an arrow in me. Careful.
Gently over this rotten log . There were sentries ahead, about twenty-five paces, almost close enough
together to scratch each other's backs, as the Ikal report said they were, in pairs. She could hear them
talking, some singing, trying to keep up their nerve. The dark was so thick it seemed as if it would bleed if