Dragon Sacrifice (The First Realm Book 3) (19 page)

BOOK: Dragon Sacrifice (The First Realm Book 3)
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“What is woman’s magic?” I asked.

 

The prince pursed his lips. “Sex magic, mostly.”

 

“Do go on.”

 

“Don’t drool, Angrod,” Meerwen said.

 

“They’re shapeshifters as well,” Mina said. “Elsa is some kind of therianthrope.”

 

“Oh, I don’t hate men,” Elsa said.

 

I jumped. “What is wrong with me? It’s like everyone and his brother can sneak up on me today.”

 

“Hello!” Orvar said, right in my ear. “My, aren’t we tense.”

 

Cruix coughed. “You might have heard them if you weren’t so intent on learning about sex magic.”

 

“You’re curious about seidr?” Elsa said. “I could be persuaded to talk theory. That is, if you’re friendly.” She caressed my hair, just in case I wasn’t clear what she meant.

 

Meerwen stepped forward, but it was Tamril who said, “Back off, lady. He’s mine.”

“Ex
cuse
me,” Meerwen said. “I don’t know you.”

 

Tamril smiled. “But I know Angrod.”

 

“Popular fellow, isn’t he?” Magnus asked Heronimo.

 

Heronimo nodded wisely. “He’s a grower, not a shower.”

 

Meanwhile, my girlfriend was getting increasingly territorial. She tends to speak with her fists, so I got between her and the other women.

 

“I say, Angrod, are you going to let this continue?” Meerwen asked. “Defend me!”

 

“Er, I’m with her,” I said.

 

“Not always.” Tamril grinned. “He has been known to entertain other parties.”

 

“Perhaps we should let him decide who he’s entertaining tonight,” Elsa said.

 

All three looked at me. Two brunettes and a blonde.

 

“I’ve heard this story before,” I said. “The poor guy ended up starting a war.”

 

“Well, I guess that’s everyone,” Ardel said. “All that’s left is to win the prize.”

 

“How did the land come to be available?” Magnus asked. “The Northlands is huge, but this much prime real estate never goes unclaimed.”

 

Ardel scratched his chin. “It was Jarl Vidar’s hold until he fell in single combat. Normally the loser’s possessions go to the winner, but Vidar’s opponent was an outlaw. By definition, outlaws cannot fight duels or own property.”

 

“That is a real handicap, believe me,” Conrad said.

 

The bartender was standing in our midst. Only he wasn’t the bartender anymore. He stood taller, with his head high. He was unmistakably the same halfling boy we’d rescued all those years ago.

 

But he was a man now.

 

A waiter put his tray down and joined Conrad. He threw off his coat to show off the blue lines on his shoulders and arms. A waitress put down a vase and revealed herself to be an elf, as well as a man. The halfling girl with the ice cream cart opened a side panel and a dwarf climbed out, shivering.

 

“You!” Jarl Nordensson said. “You are under arrest!”

 

“Your majesty!” Conrad said. “I only want to speak with you. We are unarmed, as you see.”

 

King Garvel strode forward. “You are an outlaw. Any man may kill you. Is obligated to, even, considering your many crimes.”

 

“I free slaves,” Conrad said. “My people.”

 

“You’re a brave man, I’ll give you that,” Nordensson said. “Guards, take him away.”

 

“I can help,” Conrad said. “It’s why I’m here.”

 

“You risked your life, and that of your people, to come here?” the king said.

 

“I couldn’t keep them away.”

 

The guards moved to surround Conrad, but King Garvel raised his hand. “Now, now. That is no way to treat guests.”

 

At the word
guests
we all relaxed. Conrad and his men were now protected, and bound, by the laws of hospitality. They could not be harmed. Neither could they harm anyone.

Hospitality is serious business, especially in the Northlands where inns aren’t common. When you can’t travel without relying on strangers for shelter it is important that guests and hosts know what’s expected of them.

 

“You mean to win Vidar’s hold,” King Garvel said.

 

“I think I already have some claim to it,” Conrad said.

 

“Vidar was one of the best swordsmen in the land,” Nordensson said. “How did you defeat him?”

 

“With difficulty. He was, as you say, one of the best, and we fought in his own castle. It was chancy. But then, my luck has always been good at games of chance.”

 

The king laughed. “A risk-taker. Good! You’ll be the first halfling jarl, if you win.”

 

“And I will be the first dwarven jarl, if I win,” Magnus said. “And Angus here will be the first elven jarl if he does.”

 

“Angrod,” I said. “That’s my name.”

 

“Right, Angus,” Magnus said. “Will there be any problem with any of those outcomes?”

 

“It’s not what I would have chosen,” King Garvel said. “But I am prepared to welcome any of you to my court.”

 

He fixed us with a look. “The question is, are you gentlemen prepared to do what’s necess’ry? To fight, bleed, even die?”

Chapter 18: Heronimo

“Wake up,” Cruix said.

 

“I’m awake,” I said.

 

“Took you long enough. I’ve been trying to wake you for five minutes.”

 

“What time is it?”

 

“Almost dawn. Ardel wants to see us. You know, you normally wake up instantly.”

 

I shifted. One of my bed-warmers had fallen asleep on top of me. I eased her off and tried to climb out of bed, but another girl had snuggled up to my legs. Clearly they were as tired as I was.

 

“This is the life, is it not?”

 

Cruix snorted. “For you, maybe. Not for the women.”

 

I untangled myself and reached for my clothes. Cruix was already dressed.

 

“You weren’t at the afterparty,” I said.

 

“You’ll forgive me if I didn’t want to have drinks over the body of my fallen cousin,” Cruix said.

 

“Neither did I feel like feasting on its soft parts.”

 

“Fresh wyvern tongue is a delicacy!”

 

We met Ardel outside the longhouse. Like us, he was dressed plainly, with none of the jewelry that would mark him as a noble.

 

“I’ve been a bad host,” he said. “I have concealed from you the truth about my city. Not my plan, but I went along with it.”

 

“The prince has graciously offered to give us a tour,” Cruix said. “Behind the whitewash this time.”

 

Ardel winced. Then he nodded. “I’ll have my men lower a rope from the battlements. We won’t be noticed.”

 

Half an hour later we were striding briskly through a lightening Heorot. The moon provided more than enough light for human night vision. Cruix made do with his elven Sight.

 

There were already crowds of people on the streets. They were karls, not thralls, but I had to check for collars to be sure. The men barely came up to my shoulders. The women were too thin or too fat to be beautiful. Nobody wore any jewelry. They stared hungrily as we passed.

 

“Are these free men?” I asked. “They live no better than slaves.”

 

“They have their freedom but little else,” Ardel said. “When they came to the city they left behind their land and their peasant trades. ”

 

“No property. No livelihood.” I looked away, but the hovels were everywhere. “What is a man without either of those things?”

 

“Pretty fucking useless, apparently,” Cruix said. A woman emptied a chamber pot out the window and he jumped. “How do people live like this?”

 

A line of halfling slaves marched past. There were a dozen of them, chained together at the neck.

 

The last was a little boy who scampered to keep up.

 

“Always someone who has it worse,” I said.

 

“You men love to make chattels of yourselves,” Cruix said. “Such a peculiar institution.”

 

“We’ve always had slaves,” Ardel said.

 

“Dragons never have.”

 

“Dragons never had fields that needed tilling or ditches that needed digging.”

 

“Do you even economy?” I said.

 

Cruix opened his mouth, but before he could answer an arrow went
thunk
into his shoulder.

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