Dragon Blood-Hurog 2 (16 page)

"No, sire," said Jade Eyes, fear or excitement tightening his voice. "It's very old—and powerful."

"How about you, boy?"

A hand appeared in my field of view holding a bronze staff head. Mages liked to top their staves with elaborate metal sculptures, usually just expensive toys encrusted with gems and glass beads. This wasn't

even impressive, just a crude rendering of a dragon holding a small gem in its open mouth. With a body length of distance no one would have even noticed the dull, cloudy gem the size of a pea, much less that it

hovered between the dragon's jaws without touching the metal anywhere. Without being magebom, no one would have noticed the black power spilling from the gem. I could almost see the wave of misery that flowed out to cover me like thick syrup.

I knew what it was, though not how it survived. Anyone who'd ever listened to the tale of the Empire's Fall would have recognized it. Jade Eyes must not have a taste for music or old tales.

"Tell him what it is, Ward, if you know." I didn't have to see Jakoven's face to hear the smile in his voice.

Maybe if my throat hadn't closed up from screaming I would have complied. But then again, maybe if my throat hadn't closed up from screaming it would have closed up from fear. Not the nameless fear for myself that had troubled me so only moments ago, but directed, heart-wrenching fear for all that I loved.

"Ah, children. How undereducated you are. This is the Empirebane, Destroyer of Cities, also called Farsonsbane. The greatest mage ever known, Farson Whitehair, took the blood of three dragons and concentrated it into this small stone—an experiment. Years later it was stolen and enemies of the Empire

used it to bring down the stone buildings and walls of the great cities and crumbled them to ashes. Farson

recovered it and hid it, vowing that no one would use it again." I'd heard that the Last Emperor, a boy of twelve, had stolen it and hidden it until he could recover it. But

he and his remaining bodyguards were found. They died without revealing where it was. Either way, it made a good story.

"Farsonsbane?" Jade Eye's voice was incredulous, but not doubting—the power of the thing was palpable. "I thought it would be made of gold, and the gem was supposed to be the size of my fist. My servant has gems more impressive."

The magic gathering around the bane wasn't growing, I finally realized, it was exploring. I shuddered as

the rich darkness slipped through my defenses and tasted my magic greedily. How ironic that Jade Eyes would mistake Oreg for some sort of sentient magic, and not recognize this. I'd felt magic like this before,

on Menogue and at Hurog.

"Your servant's gem couldn't flatten a city the size of Estian with a word. Show some respect." The king removed the staff head from my sight but the magic stayed.

"Too bad you can't use it," said Jade Eyes. "It must be fed with dragon's blood, and there are no more dragons."

The king's stool creaked and he said, "There is an interesting thing I ran into while doing my research. It

was something so insignificant, I almost didn't pay attention to it. How old is Hurog keep?" I could almost hear the shrug in Jade Eye's voice. "It's old, maybe the fifth century after Empire? That
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would make it eight hundred years."

Earlier than that, I thought. Far earlier.

"There are books in my private library that were written during the time of the Empire, and one of them mentions Hurog. Calls it the Dragon's Keep." I could hear Jakoven's nail tapping on something metallic,

maybe it was the staff head. "There is a story that the first few Emperors had a mage who was a dragon. There are also old stories that claim the lord of Hurog is a dragon. So what do you think, Ward? Are you

descended from that mage? Do you have dragon's blood?"

He cut my arm, just a little. And mopped up the blood with the same cloth he'd wiped my face with. I didn't see what he did with it, but I presumed it was to wipe the red smear against the gemstone because something happened.

Jade Eyes exclaimed loudly and the king's stool fell to the ground. The power that had been examining me changed, just a little. Just for a moment it recognized me.

"
Hurog
?" it said, resonating soundlessly in my skull. "
Dragon
?" And something deep inside of me answered the call before the magic of Farsonsbane was abruptly cut off.

"It's not supposed to do that," exclaimed Jakoven. "The records specifically say the stone flares with red

light as it is touched by dragon's blood. But this is the first response I've gotten from it."

"Blue," said Jade Eyes assessingly. He walked near to me until I could see him. "Your blood turned the stone from black to blue." He looked across me at Jakoven. "Did you try your own blood? Perhaps mageblood affects it."

"My blood does nothing to it," Jakoven replied. "I've tried." I saw a flutter of cloth out of the corner of my eye as the king walked past me. I heard him replace the bag on the shelves.

"Ah, Ward," Jakoven said, kissing my forehead. "You have answered my most fervent wish. For ten years that artifact sat upon my shelves waiting to be awakened." He pushed back from me and I heard him pick up his stool and set it upright.

"Well enough," he said briskly, as if the raw lust in his voice had never been. "Arten tells me you are ready, Jade Eyes. And any fool could see he is broken. But I want him stupid and happy. Make sure he can speak, eh?"

"Right," agreed Jade Eyes. "We've been experimenting with drugs to get the proper effect. We'll give him

a little sorcerer's root to make sure no one could ever mistake him for normal and top it off with a few things to make him happy."

"Good. See that it is done."

It was a beautiful day, the crisp shill of late fall drifting clean and pure into my lungs. I told the guards that

as they helped feed me into a covered two-wheeled cart that was to take us to Court. I told the big Tamerlain who sat rumbling on my feet. It bothered them when I talked to her, though,
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because they couldn't see her.

"Gods take you, shut up," said one. "Are we going to have to listen to this all the way to the Castle?" Surprised, I looked up from the big animal stretched across the floor of the cart.

"Look at him," he said to his comrade. "To smile like that with tears running down his face … "

"Relax," grunted the other guard. "He's been shut up in the Asylum for almost a week. He's not used to the light, and his eyes are tearing up. It'll go away soon."

The Tamerlain sat up on her hindquarters and placed a forepaw on either side of me. The cart didn't shift

with her movements the way it did with mine—as if the Tamerlain had no weight at all.

"I'm sorry, Ward," she said into my smile. "But it's time." As she spoke, fire lit my blood and licked up my body, icy fire that burned impurities and nerves alike. Sweat poured from my skin and stung my eyes, mucus blocked my breath.

"Damn it, he's having convulsions," grumbled the second guard, though he made no move to come near me. "If the stupid mages did something to him that kills him—you and I know who's going to get the blame."

The worst of it was over by the time the horses stopped. I stumbled shakily out of the carriage to face a back entrance to the king's palace, truly sober for the first time since I'd drunk from the general's waterskin.

The guards hauled me unceremoniously up a narrow stairway and into a back room where a hot bath was waiting. They stripped my filthy clothes off and scrubbed me with rough cloths. Wrapped shivering in

a bath sheet, I sat on a stool while one of them shaved me clean. There was some discussion about cutting my hair, but they decided it was a Shavig affectation, toweled it dry, and brushed it into a queue.

The Tamerlain watched, unnoticed—Oreg could do the same thing. I took care not to look at her directly. And I smiled the whole while until my cheeks ached with the strain. The clothes they gave me to wear were all black and plain, though expensive. The boots they pulled on my feet were my own, though they'd been polished to a higher gloss than I'd had them. They covered me

with a hooded cloak and shuffled me out the door and into the hall. The hood kept me from seeing much

about where I was going, but that was fine. It gave me more time to think. And I needed to think. The king wanted me so he could work Farsonsbane. He wasn't about to give me up. But there was something else he wanted. Today the king told Jade Eyes to make sure I was happy and stupid. The Tamerlain had told me that Jakoven would present me before his court—no, that wasn't it. I stopped abruptly and someone pushed me forward.

Abruptly my forehead broke out with sweat and a flash of heat swept from my feet to my head, robbing my joints of their strength as it passed. I slumped to the floor. The Tamerlain nudged me anxiously.

"What is wrong with me?" I whispered.

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"Your body has begun to crave the drugs they fed you," she said. "I can do nothing for this." Jakoven's men scrambled. From their words I understood that Jakoven had commanded me to be in a presentable condition when I was brought before the court. The only thing he wanted the court to see was that my mind was broken—not my body.

They brought a bucket of water and washed my face with cold, damp cloths, careful not to muck up the clothes. I grabbed the bucket from them and drank to assuage my dry throat. When they helped me to my feet, I let them steady me.

I was weak, so I leaned upon the men who led me, saving my strength for when it was needed. The Tamerlain walked in front of us, pausing every few steps to watch me worriedly. The halls we traversed were unfamiliar, but I was more interested in getting to the stage of Jakoven's drama than I was in observing the sights. I had acted many roles, but this was going to be the performance of a lifetime—if I

could manage it.

My guard stopped before an inconspicuous door, and one of them stepped through it, closing it behind him—but not before I glimpsed the tumult of people in the formal hall. I took a deep steadying breath as I

heard Jakoven's voice, only slightly muffled by the door.

"My lord Duraugh, my chamberlain tells me you have been waiting for some time. We are sorry for it. Please come forward now with your family and receive Our apologies." There was a pause, and I supposed my uncle was following the king's directions.

"Well now, Duraugh, what brings you here?"

"I am here, my king, at your bidding and to inquire about my nephew, the Hurogmeten." My uncle's voice cut through the closed door as easily as it cut through a battlefield. And finally I realized the whole of what Jakoven intended. He wanted to present the court with a Hurogmeten who was stupid so they'd see why he couldn't leave Hurog in my hands. That would leave me in his power. The Tamerlain's magic had given me the chance to counter his plot. But my uncle
knew
I wasn't an idiot. Without warning of my condition, he might have done something unpolitical—like accuse the king of damaging me.

But I wasn't going to go into court under the influence of Jade Eye's drugs.

"Ah, yes. Ward of Hurog." Jakoven spoke as if he had forgotten about me, as if I were of only minor interest to him. "We were reminded that at one time the boy was considered unfit. We have not seen him

since you set him to run Hurog and We decided that such an important post could not be held by an imbecile."

"My brother is no imbecile," snapped Tosten. The pause before he added "my king" was too long. Panic froze me in place. Tosten was here.

My uncle was good at court politics: As long as there was no obvious blood, no signs of torture, I could count on him to keep a cool head. My brother would take one look at me, too thin and barely strong enough to stand on my feet, and he'd do something rash.

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"I'm sure you're right," purred Jakoven.

My brother let out a low rumble that sounded for all the world like the growl of a dog. If I waited here any longer the king would incite Tosten to riot even without my haggard appearance to help. I'd have to count upon Uncle to control Tosten.

The men I leaned so heavily against were not prepared for my sudden shove. I stepped around them and

through the door, which opened just below the royal dais.

"Of course I'm not an imbecile," I said cheerfully, striding into the room. "As our most gracious majesty

has discovered for himself."

I bowed low before the king and then turned to face the court. The Tamerlain stood close to me and I let her brace me.

"Our king has been a very gracious host the past week." I pulled the time frame from the guard's comment as we traveled from the Asylum. As far as I was concerned, it could have been months or years since I'd left Hurog. "And I hope that I have satisfied him as to my fitness to rule. As he told me earlier today, I should have presented myself formally to him a long time ago, but I've had my hands busy

rebuilding my keep. I suppose I could have left it to the dwarves"—I paused to remind Jakoven that I had allies he hadn't considered—"but it was my fault that Hurog fell. It seemed my duty to see it arise again."

I glanced over at my family, who stood tense and still at the front of the court, arrayed before the king, and smiled convincingly at them. The hard pump of battle fever and the Tamerlain were the only thing keeping me upon my feet.

The lords present, including many Shavigmen, nodded and smiled at my reminder of my role in stopping

the Vorsag invasion and the cost Hurog had paid for it. I'd made mention of the dwarves, who had come from the mists of legend to reappear at Hurog. Many of the Shavigmen, at least, had seen them. I noticed

that there were several of the more powerful Shavigmen who moved through the crowd to stand at my uncle's right. If this didn't play right, it wasn't only my family who'd suffer. I set the smile in my eyes and