A Memory of Fire (The Dragon War, Book 3) (20 page)

No,
Rune,
she thought.
I
will not fight with you. We will be together, yes... but not like
this.
She tugged up her leggings and slipped her tunic over her head.
I
will kill anyone who comes between us. When your friends are dead, I
will be avenged.

She buckled her sword to her
waist, but she left her armor behind; it would slow her down in the
wilderness, and her days of donning imperial steel were over. They
left the gopher hole, carrying what supplies they could, and emerged
into the forest.

Dawn fell between the branches
and the snow glittered. Icicles hung from birches, oaks, and pines.
No dragons flew above, and the scents of the forest filled the air.
It was a beautiful morning, but darkness filled Tilla. She walked
silently, staring ahead, not speaking to Rune and not squeezing his
hand when he held hers.

She gripped the hilt of her
sword and took a deep breath.

I
will do as I promised, Rune,
she thought.
I
will help you find your friends... and then I will drive this sword
into them.

 
 
VALIEN

"The boy is a burden."
He sneered, facing the tent wall. "He's been a burden since he
joined us."

He heard Kaelyn sigh behind him.

"He is an oaf," she
said. "He is a whiny brat. Yet he fought with us at Lynport.
He slew legionaries. And he did find the Genesis Shards."

Valien spun toward her, enraged,
but his snarl died on his lips. He found it impossible to rage
against Kaelyn. She stood before him, looking up with those large
eyes, and his anger melted. He too sighed, a creaky sound.

"You have sad kitten eyes,"
he said. "You always get what you want with those eyes, don't
you?"

"I don't want any of this,"
she said. "I don't want Leresy here, but... what can we do? I
can't just banish him now. He's my twin. And he means well."

Valien snorted. "He still
hopes to seize the throne for himself."

"Leresy doesn't know what
he wants. He only knows that he hates our father. He has no
cunning, no wit, only hatred. He's foolish and rash, but I know him.
I can control him."

Valien grumbled. "One more
mistake or outburst from him, and I banish him. Simple as that, sad
kitten eyes or not."

She touched his cheek. "Do
not weary your mind with him. We have greater things to worry
about."

"And I worry about them
all. Tomorrow we will fly again, and we will not rest for days, not
until we reach the capital. It all ends now. This is our last
battle, for victory or for death. Perhaps worrying about Leresy is
easier than thinking about the battle ahead."

"Think
of neither tonight," Kaelyn said. "My brother is in his
tent, Erry is soothing him, and the fight continues tomorrow.
Tonight let
me
soothe
you
."

She unclasped her cloak and let
it fall. With a single movement, she pulled her tunic over her head.
She stood nude before him, her body slim and pale, and gave him that
look of hers, her kitten eyes. She pressed herself against him,
stood on tiptoes, and kissed his lips.

"Think
only of me tonight," she whispered. "Let me love you.
This is what you need. This is what
I
need."

She tried to kiss him again, but
he turned his head away. She held him, but he took a step back.

"I can no longer do this,"
he said. "The last time was a mistake."

He saw the hurt in her eyes;
this time it was real hurt, deep and cutting.

"Why?" she whispered.

"Because we are warriors.
Because we cannot love. Love weakens us."

She laughed mirthlessly. "Must
warriors feel only bloodlust? That is my father speaking, not you."

He looked away from her. He
stared at his cot, remembering a night long ago when he had found
her, Marilion, in his old bed in the capital.

"For years I refused to
love you, Kaelyn," he said in a rasp. "Do not make me love
you now."

She came to stand beside him.
She held his arm.

"Is it because of her?"
Her voice was soft; there was no jealousy there, only compassion and
understanding.

He turned back toward her. He
held her hands in his, two white flowers in his calloused paws.

"The gods, fate, or chance
have been cruel," he said. "You look like her. For years,
I refused to love you, for you were as a ghost. But now I don't see
you as an echo. Kaelyn, you have flown by my side through fire,
blood, and rain. You have been my torch in these cold, dark years.
I love you, Kaelyn Cadigus, for the woman you are. And that is one
emotion we cannot feel. If one of us should fall, the other must
keep fighting, heart whole, fire bright. I cannot bear the fear of
losing another love."

Tears filled her eyes. "And
I love you, Valien Eleison. I came to you as a muddy, bruised youth,
a frightened girl fleeing her father's rod. For a long time, you
were as a father to me, wiser and nobler than my true father ever
was. But I now love you not as a daughter, but as a woman. And I
cannot quell that feeling. I will not. And I will not believe it
weakens me. Tomorrow we might fall, so let us love today all the
brighter." She began to undo the lacing on his tunic. "Save
your troubles for tomorrow. Tonight you are mine."

He closed his eyes. He let her
undress him, and their naked bodies pressed together, hers slim and
soft, his scarred and rough. The candles flickered around them and
he loved her. And he forgot about all else.

 
 
LERESY

He slunk through the camp, clad
in cloak and hood, the clouds hiding the moon above. The booze still
coursed through his blood, but he walked silently, the yellow grass
muffling his boots. Inside the shadows of his hood, he grinned,
licked his lips, and hissed.

"Backhand me, will you?"
he whispered, still feeling the sting on his cheek; it had left an
ugly bruise. "You do not strike the prince of Requiem and live,
old man."

His hiss rose into a chuckle.
He reached into his cloak and gripped his dagger. The cold hilt felt
heavenly. Thrusting this blade into Valien would feel better than
thrusting into a woman.

"You all abandoned me,"
he whispered, slinking between the shadowy tents. "You all
stole my Genesis Shards. Now you will pay. Now you will bow down to
me, and I will be your emperor."

His chuckle rose into a laugh,
and Leresy bit down, cursing. No. He could not laugh now. He would
save his laughter for later. For now he must move silently as a
shadow. No one must know it was him who struck this night. He
wanted to be remembered as a savior, not a murderer.

The camp slept around him,
thousands of soldiers exhausted from the long flight and battle, many
of them wounded. They lay as lumps in the night, wrapped in
blankets, sleeping upon bare grass. As Leresy moved among them, they
breathed and snored in a chorus. A few guards patrolled the
perimeter of the camp, but they were gazing outward and upward,
scanning for the Legions. Here among the sleeping troops, cloaked in
darkness, Leresy walked alone, no eyes upon him.

Fools!
he thought, adjusting the scarf that hid his face.
They
should be watching the enemy within, not shadows beyond.

A hill rose ahead, a slumbering
giant in the night. Tents stood atop it like warts. Leresy growled.
The high command slept upon that hilltop, Valien leading the Vir
Requis and that glorified fisherman Sila leading the Tirans. Both
men were filthy, common outlaws. Leresy sneered. He would have
lunged uphill now and slain them, but guards surrounded the hill, a
ring of sentinels armed with swords and shields. Leresy could not
attack those tents now, not unless he shifted into a dragon. As a
dragon, he was a great warrior, a champion, a beast of red scales and
flame who had slain many... but tonight he was a shadow. Tonight he
would strike as a viper.

"If I cannot sneak past
your guards, I will draw you to me," he whispered.

He kept creeping among the
sleeping men and women, common soldiers who lay upon grass, no tents
above them. He only had to find a suitable one, a frightened one,
one who would scream. Yes, she would have to be a screamer.

As he passed soldier by soldier,
Leresy frowned. Most were men. Among the women, most were ugly
freaks, their faces scarred with war, their lips chafed and their
hair in disarray. Truly, this was a rabble of filthy commoners.

Finally, by a clump of maple
trees, he found a match. He grin widened and his mouth watered.

The girl slept below him, her
face upon her palms. Even in the darkness, her beauty shone.

"Miya," Leresy
whispered.

Erry's half sister.

He had been eying the girl for a
while, a wild thing with golden skin, bright blue eyes, and platinum
hair. She was young and blooming into womanhood, a forbidden fruit,
and Leresy was famished. He had known no woman but Erry for too
long.

Foolish
girl,
he thought, standing above her.
You
should have stayed with your father upon the hill, safe behind
guards, not here among the commoners.
He licked his lips.
Tonight
you are mine, Miya. You sister is mine and you will be too. And
then... then my dagger will strike.

He glanced around him. The
other resistors all slept. Leresy sucked in his breath and knelt
above Miya.

"Hello, my sweetness,"
he whispered, kissed her cheek, and caressed her hair.

She mumbled in her sleep.
Leresy reached down to undo her clothes.

"Hush and sleep," he
whispered and kissed her.

Her eyes opened. She gasped and
he clutched her throat, constricting her, and smiled. She sputtered,
staring with wide eyes, and kicked.

"Are you ready to scream?"
he said. She kicked madly. She punched him, but he only hissed and
ignored the pain. He kept tearing at her clothes.

"Now scream, little one,"
Leresy said, grinned, and released her throat.

She sucked in breath... and she
screamed.

He stepped back from her. She
leaped up. All around, soldiers rose from their slumber, drew
swords, and came running forward.

"Father!" Miya cried,
tears in her eyes, and began racing uphill. She clutched the tatters
of her clothes to her body. "Father, help!"

As the camp erupted into chaos,
Leresy crept behind the maple trees, disappearing into shadow.

Resistors ran through the night.
A dragon took flight and blazed fire overhead, lighting the camp.
Miya was still running uphill, crying for her father. Atop the hill,
Sila emerged from his tent, ran downhill toward her, and embraced
her. Men burst out from the other tents too, the officers of their
force.

Leresy grinned in the shadows.

The camp had fallen into chaos.

"What is the meaning of
this?" rose a raspy voice. Valien emerged from his tent and
marched downhill, scowling and drawing his sword. He wore but a
tunic, no armor. "Miya, what happened?"

Men were gathering around the
haggard old knight. Miya wept and began blubbering about a masked
man attacking her. Resistors began sweeping through the camp,
holding torches.

In the madness, Leresy crept
uphill, moving through the crowd.

"A man... a masked man,"
Miya said, tears on her cheeks. "He choked me. He tore my
clothes. Father..."

Sila held his daughter in his
wide, tattooed arms, and his eyes burned. Kaelyn stood nearby,
whispering soothing words to the girl, while dozens of others
gathered around.

Leresy crept closer, step by
step, the people crowding around him.

Valien stepped toward Miya, his
lips tight. Unlike the others, the gruff outcast had no embraces or
soothing words. He was gritting his teeth, and his eyes burned with
rage rather than pain.

"Miya," he rasped in
his gravelly hiss of a voice. "Can you describe him? Do you
know who did this?"

Leresy crept around the group,
placing himself behind Valien, and inched closer. He reached into
his cloak and clutched his dagger.

Miya shook her head. "I...
I don't know, I... he wore black, and..."

Leresy stepped around a few
resistors. Valien stood only two feet away.

Sweat soaked Leresy's back.

Do
it now!
a voice screamed inside him.
Now,
while they're all distracted! Stab him! Kill him!

Sweat covered his palm. Inside
his cloak, he almost dropped the dagger. People were still shouting
and moving about. Chaos covered the hill like a kicked ant hive. It
was the time to strike, yet Leresy could barely breathe. The sweat
now soaked his tunic, and his pulse thudded in his ears.

"We must find him,"
Valien said. "Sila, take Miya into your tent. I'll search the
camp."

Stab
him! Kill him before it's too late!

Leresy shook and his throat
constricted.

Valien took a step away.

I
can't do it,
Leresy thought and tears filled his eyes.

He closed his eyes, and he saw
his father again. He saw Frey beating him. He saw the emperor
spitting upon him, casting him from his court, banishing him into the
wilderness, turning him from a prince into this wretch.

Leresy had to kill the emperor.
He had to. He had to seize Frey's throne for his own. And only one
man stood between him and the crown.

Valien took another step away.

With a hiss, Leresy leaped
forward. His dagger gleamed. He slammed the weapon against Valien's
back.

His blade slashed through the
man's tunic... and clanged.

Pain shot up Leresy's arm.

He yowled, dropping the dagger
like a man dropping a viper.