Fortress Draconis (43 page)

She moved out into the gardens, where the slight chill in the air puckered her flesh. Out there the music rose above the murmurs, bringing a slight smile to her face. She let the shadows embrace her and slowly sipped a sweet wine redolent of plums.

The particular song being played was common enough in the border area between Jerana and Okrannel that Alyx recognized it. It had different names and lyrics depending upon the nation, but in Okrannel it was a simple song about a shepherd and the wonders he saw while searching for a lost sheep. Since the fall of Okrannel the song had been changed such that the previously anonymous shepherd took on her father’s name, and she was identified with the missing lamb.

The garden itself had also been remade since the fall. Stones from the various cities and battle sites in Okrannel had been brought south and set up in the correct relationship to each other. A rift matching the Dnivep River valley had been carved through the garden, though a bridge spanned it here whereas, in Okrannel, the Radooya Bridge had been destroyed. Plants native to the northern climes of Okrannel had been imported and—in what had been taken to be an ill omen by some in the exile community— thrived in a home only meant to be temporary.

Alyx laughed to herself as she realized that passing from the Jeranese reception into the garden had her moving in the same direction pilgrims did when they went for their whimsy-rests and dream raids on Okrans soil. “I doubt that the dreams I would have here would please the Crown Circle.”

Her breath caught in her throat as a man standing over in the corner, near the stones from Svarskya, politely coughed into his hand. “I beg your pardon, Princess.”

She turned to face him and required a moment to do so lest her skirts tangle and she topple. He wore a black tunic that had been cut just below his waist over black trousers and dark riding boots. His white beard had been trimmed, as had his hair, and he wore no jewelry or weapons. “I didn’t see you, Crow.”

“I know, which is why I coughed when I heard you

speak.“ The older man shrugged. ”I knew you were not speaking to me, and I heard nothing, but I didn’t want you taken unawares.“

“You could have spoken earlier.” She frowned. “Did you not see me? Are you night blind?”

“No, not at all.” A smile softened his face and even made the scar on his right cheek somehow less brutal. “You are a vision of loveliness, and quite striking in so much gold. I was, however, like you, lost in thoughts.”

Alyx nodded at the white stone tower that half hid him. “You were thinking of Svarskya?”

“I was. I was lost in the heroism and sacrifice of those who died there.” He stepped from behind it and toward her, glancing back for a moment as he moved forward. “The songs of what happened abound, of course. Just seeing a stone from there makes it more real.”

She lifted her chin. “You have memories of Svarskya.”

“Of the battles and siege? Gods, no. I wasn’t there for that.”

“That is not what I suggested.” Her violet eyes sharpened. “After we met, I asked about you and Resolute. I was told he brought that stone from Svarskya—emptied a tower of gibberkin and vylaens so he could prize free a stone my father had touched. They must have been good friends for him to do that, and you a good friend to accompany him on that journey.”

Crow gave her a half smile. “Resolute never knew your father.”

“But, then, why?” She shook her head, her hair brushing against her back and neck. “It has been assumed he did that in my father’s honor.”

“Oh, he did. We both did. Resolute, years ago, refused to join the expedition to Svarskya because it was not going to free Vorquellyn. In the wake of all that happened, Resolute felt that had he been along, lives would have been saved.” Crow brushed his fingers over the rock. “Perhaps too little, too late, but to Resolute it is an acknowledgment of a debt he owes your family and nation.”

“And why did you go?”

His face closed a bit. “I met your father. I even saw you, once, when you were an infant. Your father sold his life dearly at Fortress Draconis. He saved my life and so many others. He did what no one else could do, opposing asullanciri‘’

“Just like you.”

“Pardon?” Crow’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh, Myrall’mara.”

“Yes, though you say it as if it were nothing. Everyone who has opposedsullanciri is either dead or has gone over to them.” Alyx frowned. “Why is it that fate didn’t befall us? Despite making us kill children, there must have been something more.”

“There was. Myrall’mara couldn’t have killed us all.” Crow clasped his hands together and let them hang easily down by his belt. “She wasn’t prepared for combat. She had come unarmed. Despite what she said to Resolute, he could have killed her.”

“How is it that you chose to go after her? You know what happened to my father. From what you said, you’d seensullanciri before. It takes a brave man to do what you did.”

Crow slowly smiled. “Oh, my. Had I listened to Jeranese critiques of the raid I’d not have thought of you as being subtle enough for that attack on my identity. You want to know who I am, since I claim to have known your father, but there are no chronicles of Svarskya or Fortress Draconis that mention Kedyn’s Crow. You are suspicious, which is good.”

That’s not what I wanted to know, is it?Her frown deepened. “I actuallywas wondering what sort of man would dare challenge asullanciri. The question of your identity would be part of that, true, but immaterial. You could be any one of a thousand men who had been in Svarskya and Fortress Draconis. Your name is just one you took later. In fact, in the same way that the Vorquelves take on human words as names—words full of meaning—so you have made yourself a myth with your choice. In learning who you are, your name is immaterial.”

“Quite an insight for someone so young.”

Alyx gave him a little shrug. “Gyrkyme wisdom, not mine. They often change names to commemorate a past deed, a fallen friend, or as part of undertaking some grand quest. The Gyrkyme who carried me from Svarskya to Gyrvirgul was forever known as Ironwing for having made the long flight so quickly.”

Crow thought on that for a moment, then nodded. “I would have believed it was your insight.”

“You overestimate me.”

“No. I saw you study the plans for the building we attacked and lay out a plan that worked. Your modesty does you credit.” His brown eyes sparkled for a moment. “And, in matching your openness, I was willing to confront MyraU’mara because of my sword. Magic weapons, elemental forces, these are what we need to destroysullanciri. I had a magick sword, Tsamoc, and, well, Resolute is pretty much an elemental force.”

Alyx took a sip of her wine, then extended the half-filled glass to Crow.

He took it, then smiled. “What are you drinking?”

She blinked. “I didn’t want you to fetch more, I was offering you a drink.”

“Highness, it would be unseemly of one so lowly as myself to be drinking from your glass.”

Alyx threw her head back and laughed. “You killed a vy-laen who would have killed me. You chased asullanciri off. I should be fetching wine for you, but that is not the point. Were we in the field, we’d share a skin of wine without thinking about it for a heartbeat.”

“Ah, but we’re not in the field, are we?” Crow glanced at the doorway back into the fortress. “Different sort of battlefield, this.”

She followed his gaze. “And the enemy has entered the field of battle.”

General Adrogans had arrived and was being introduced by the Jeranese queen to all manner of guests, including Will Norrington. The military man shook Will’s hand strongly, having swallowed the youth’s limb in a huge hand. He bent down, lowering his head to Will’s level. While they were clearly being introduced to one another as the only hopes for the world, Adrogans seemed intent on making certain Will knew who was thegreatest hope.

Crow glanced at her. “That particular introduction is one people have been waiting for, but there are bets about the two of you meeting.”

“Oh?”

“You surrender an inch and fifty pounds to him, he surrenders twenty years to you.” He arched an eyebrow at her. “The gown hampers your mobility, but it will distract him.”

“Are you saying you have your money on me?”

He shook his head. “Running with Resolute I push my luck way too much to gamble. Besides, it is immoral to bet on a certainty.”

She turned her head and frowned at him. “Why are you here?”

“As Will’s bodyguard and guest.” He sipped at her wine, then returned the glass. “All of this is foreign to Will. A week ago he didn’t know who he was, and now kings and queens defer to him. If he gets lost in that, we’re all lost.”

“I didn’t get the feeling he would.” She took the glass back from him. “He seems to be a smart young man.”

“You’re right.” Crow smiled. “So really I’m here to make sure that all the stuff he nicks is put back. Not so much guarding him from society as the other way around.”

Alyx sighed as she shifted her attention to the Jeranese general. “I can’t avoid meeting Adrogans, can I?”

“No. And if only half the stories about him are true, he’s loud, arrogant, and the way for a foe to defeat him is to carry a mirrored shield, since General Adrogans will be entranced by the vision of perfection he sees trapped in it.”

His remark caught her in mid-drink. She choked a laugh, holding the glass out in her left hand so the wine that sloshed and dripped missed her gown. She wiped her chin with the back of her right hand, flicking the excess wet off, then shook her head. “Warn me next time.”

“As her Highness directs.” Crow’s voice grew louder as he snatched the glass from her hand. “More wine.”

“That will be quite enough wine for her for now.” Tatyana stood in the doorway with Adrogans on her arm. “General Adrogans, this is my great-grandniece.”

“Great-grandniece? Not possible. Your niece, surely, grandniece perhaps, were you but a flower child at your brother’s wedding.” Adrogans patted the woman’s hand on his arm, devoting his full attention to her while Alyx waited. “It would not have been out of the realm to guess you were mother and daughter, the Okrans beauty runs so strongly in you both.”

Tatyana gave him a smile that withered as she looked at Alyx. “You see, Princess Alexia, skill at arms does not require a lack of social grace.”

“Noted, Aunt Tatyana.” Alyx kept a slender smile on her lips, letting a snarl nest in its simple lines. Clearly the honeyed words Adrogans poured into her aunt’s ears were not meant to flatter her, since only a moron would think Tatyana’s vanity so easily overrode her sense. Adrogans paid her attention as a way to ignore Alexia and put her in her place.Or the place he sees for me.

Alexia stepped in close to the Jeranese general and looked him eye to eye. She slid her hand forward, stopping him from grabbing her hand across the knuckles. She shook his hand carefully and strongly, not trying to hurt him, but letting him feel her strength.

“I am pleased, General Adrogans, to meet a legend.”

“You do me too much honor, Princess.” His grey eyes had none of the warmth she’d just seen in Crow’s, and the man’s steel-grey hair, while marking age as well as Crow’s white hair did, in no way hinted at any humanity in the man.

Adrogans gave her a carefully crafted smile. “Besides, you and I know where the legend ends, the point beyond which all is fable. We are linked that way, the two of us really. I earned my fame at the time you were being carried offtoGyrvirgul.”

Crow returned as the general spoke. Returning her refilled wineglass to her, Crow nodded, then looked at Adrogans. “I would have gotten you something to drink, but I know the general prefers being dry.”

“Dry?” Adrogans frowned for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Yes, dry, I see. Indeed, yes, congratulations, Princess, on your amphibious assault on the house here in the slum. Interesting tactic to use. That’s the only time I’ve heard of a shipborne assault approaching success.”

Alyx smiled quickly. “Better success against Chytrine’s troops than she has against ours, certainly.”

The Jeranese general snorted lightly. “You were making war on children, she was fighting against warriors.”

Crow moved to Alyx’s side. “If you speak with the Vilwanese, General, you will find that Chytrine was making war on children as well. Her assault never was meant to succeed.”

“Her excuse now, or one made by those who apologize for her.” Adrogans slowly shook his head. “You’ve chased her out of this city, Princess, and I will chase her from your homeland. I’ve assured your aunt of this very thing. I trust you will support me in this.”

Tatyana nodded. “She will. We all will and do, General.” The old woman’s dark eyes flashed ferociously. “The princess, as with all Okrans expatriates everywhere, stands ready to do as you bid. Isn’t this true, Alexia?”

“I am certain, Aunt, that the general has no doubt of it at all.” She suppressed a shudder. “Okrannel will be liberated.”

“I shall be pleased to have you join me on the campaign, Princess.” He bowed, then looked down at Tatyana again. “Grand Duchess, let me take you back inside before you catch a chill.”

“You are so kind, General. Good evening, Princess.” Adrogans flicked a salute at her, then steered her great-grandaunt back into the ballroom. Alyx found herself staring after him for a moment, then forced her balled right fist open. She concentrated on her breathing and made herself calm down.

Crow smiled carefully. “And you don’t like him, why?” She hesitated, sorting the reasons, ordering them, then selecting the one that annoyed her the most. “He’s won victories against Aurolani forces. Of this there is no doubt, but he is a cavalry officer. I have studied his battles and he wastes his infantry. Moreover, there’s never been a cavalry in the history of the world that could lay siege to a fortress. If a fraction of the rumors about what he wants to do are true, we might win Okrannel back, but we won’t be able to hold it. We’ll run out of personnel and supplies. He’s planning for a campaign as if it is just a big raid, and it won’t work.”

“Then you favor the Draconis Baron and his plans?” She shook her head. “It’s true that Fortress Draconis may have stuck in Chytrine’s throat like a bone for years, but that doesn’t mean there won’t come a time when she spits it out or swallows it whole. And his strategy, while it might bleed her white and dry, won’t liberate Okrannel, the Ghost March, or Vorquellyn. We need something else, a different approach, but with the sides being chosen here, the chances of that happening are slender.”