Fortress Draconis (61 page)

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Authors: Michael A. Stackpole

Tags: #Fantasy, #Science Fiction

BOOK: Fortress Draconis
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Alyx reached out and patted him on the knee. “You saved my life, too, you know. After she’d disarmed me, I’d have been split in two except that you tripped me and sent me below that slash.”

“Quite by design, I assure you, Highness.”

“Ah, then it was also by design that you left this for me.” Alyx unsheathed Tsamoc. “Your sword is what finished her, you know.”

“A carpenter builds the house, not his hammer.”

“You know, Crow, I think we’re both wasting a lot of time being so polite. Fact is that you saved one of my men from death, but that was happenstance since you’d gone straight for Malarkex. Don’t deny it. You knew she had to be finished, and I agreed. You stopped her, then I stopped her. We both stopped her. We’ve killed asullanciri”

A grimace flashed over Crow’s face.“ ‘Ware saying that too loudly, Highness, for only ill has come to such folk. Bosleigh Norrington nowis asullanciri. Tarrant Hawkins is dead by his own hand. I like neither prospect for you.”

“And for yourself?”

“Neither as well.” Crow accepted Tsamoc from her, then used the sword to lever himself stiffly out of his chair. “No, Highness, stay seated. I’ll just put Tsamoc with my other things and fetch us some wine. You once said you’d willingly share a skin with me in the field, and I know they have some inside. Give me but a moment.”

She nodded and watched him go. With his white hair and beard, walking as stiffly as his injuries demanded, she could easily imagine him being of an age to court her great-grandaunt—though the thought of that pairing sent a shudder through her. Tatyana was cold enough that Malarkex would have felt a burning coal by comparison.

Alyx leaned back in the camp chair, listening to the creak of the wood and canvas from which it had been constructed. The brazier’s warmth slowly bled into her, melting away little aches and leaving only fatigue in return. She closed her eyes for a moment, relishing the kiss of heat on her cheeks, then felt a jolt run through her.

Though she knew her eyes were closed, she could see the camp and the glowing fire and Crow’s empty chair. In addition to that, the Black Dragon stood before her, across the fire from her. Red highlights slithered over his scales and along his arm as he raised a hand in greeting.

“Forgive me, daughter, for so abrupt an appearance. I cannot be long, the strain is great. You must go to Adrogans. Wruonan pirates went overland to Lakaslin. The Azure Spider managed to steal the DragonCrown fragmentand destroy thearcanslata with which the capital communicates to Mallin on the coast. The theft wasn’t noticed for we don’t know how long, so it could be on the island already.”

Alyx nodded. “I’ll tell him. We’ll send a force.” The Black Dragon shook his head. “You can’t tell him, daughter, for nothing I’ve said to you will pass your lips. You’ll find a way to make him learn. You will. Go to him, now.”

She jerked upright in her chair, her hands tight on the arms. She blinked, half expecting to see the Black Dragon where Crow now stood with alarm on his face. “I didn’t mean to startle you, Highness.”

“Never mind that. We have to go talk to Adrogans.” Crow slung the wineskin over his left shoulder and started immediately through the darkness toward the hilltop where Adrogans’ pavilion glowed softly like a phantom mushroom. “I haven’t seen him today, but I’ve not been looking. There’s still a Horse Guards cordon around his tent, however.”

“It doesn’t matter.” He frowned. “What is it?”

Alyx opened her mouth to tell him, since the Black Dragon had long ago told her she could trust Crow, but the words disintegrated between her mind and her mouth. “I can’t say, but it’s urgent. You have to trust me.”

“With my life, Highness.”

They reached the edge of the cordon, which surrounded the base of the hill upon which the tent was perched. A horse soldier tried to stop Alyx by getting in front of her and telling her she couldn’t go up, but she just kept veering, forcing him to twist and turn. When he finally grabbed at her left arm, she pulled free of his grasp and backhanded him with a blow that spun him to the ground. Two steps further on, halfway up the hill, a Horse Guards sergeant stopped her. “Highness, with all due respect …”

Alexia’sheadcameupandurgentfury dripped from her words. “Respect,Sergeant, would mean you’d be leading me, not stopping me. Stand aside, or General Adrogans will know of your conduct.”

“His orders I’m following, Highne… General.”

Crow cut to the left, so the sergeant grabbed him by the right arm. The man roared with pain and the soldier recoiled, letting Alyx shoot past. She reached the crest of the hill while the sergeant huffed and puffed up after her, only to find the entryway barred by Phfas.

The Zhusk headman shook his head slowly. “He is to be left alone.”

Alyx lowered her voice, but kept her anger constant. “Were I reporting on the battle, or any number of other matters which are as trivia to what I need to say, I would leave it until morning. Stand aside.”

Phfas’ little brown face squeezed in on itself, all but hiding his eyes in a webwork of wrinkled flesh. “Go away, Svarskya.”

“Phfas,” Adrogans called quietly from within the tent, “let her pass.”

The headman moved aside, then quickly intercepted Crow. Alyx glanced at him, but Crow shook his head. “Go on. I can wait.”

Alyx slipped past the curtained entryway and saw Adrogans struggling to rise from his bed. He wore a loincloth, very much after Zhusk fashion. More important, talismans had been fastened to his swollen, mottled skin, and decorated him as they did Phfas.But so many more, and bigger.

Adrogans regarded her with half-lidded eyes. “My mother, you know, came from Okrannel. She was a merchant’s daughter bound to be wed to a merchant family in Mallin to seal an alliance. They traveled the coast road and Zhusk raiders kidnapped her. Jeranese soldiery rescued her—the younger brother of her intended groom, in fact, led them. When she reached Mallin it was apparent, by her own admission, that she had been despoiled. The warrior, my father, had developed a great affection for her, so the alliance was sealed through their union, and I was born three seasons later.”

The man walked slowly to a side table and poured out two goblets of wine, nodding toward her to take one. “It was not until I led troops into the Zhusk domain that I was recognized for what I was—a half-Zhusk bastard. Phfas saw that in me, and more. Through his offices I was accepted, which is why the Zhusk have let me operate here for years. Despite my acknowledgment of my link to them-—a link I have kept quiet for fear your grandfather would disapprove of me—I had not undergone full initiation into their societies.”

Alyx accepted the wine, though barely tasted it. Her message burned urgently in her, but the quiet power of Adrogans’ confession forestalled her speaking of it. Instead she nodded at him. “The talismans.”

“The Zhusk are a primitive people. They acknowledge the gods and theweirun but tend toward dealing with things more primal. They call them theyrun. Water, air, fire, earth, a host of other elemental things, all of them share an essence. While a river might have oneweirun and a lake another, they both share the sameyrun essence. They can be manipulated and controlled.”

He gestured toward the doorway. “You wondered how Phfas stopped the arrow that would have split Resolute’s heart? Theyrun of air is his companion. After he was prepared and pierced, they threw him from a cliff. Had they not bonded, he would have been dashed on the rocks and killed. Because of their bond he hardened the air, saving himself much as he made it intercept the arrow.”

“And you are bound to water? You produced the geysers, swamp, and lake? The mist, that was you?”

Adrogans smiled slowly. “When you come to the initiation late, and you have a certain amount of power yourself, wisdom, philosophy, theyrun seek you as much as you seek them.” He touched the talisman on his left breast. “Water wanted me and I it. And fire, which is why the skewers were heated, and earth, which is why they were metal. Wood for the splinters in my back, and water, which quenched the burning. But, largely, it was another, theyrun of pain, who is mine. I could see through the water out there, I could feel through the earth, but I also saw and heard and felt and tasted and smelled through the pain.”

He snorted. “She will be a harsh mistress, pain will, but ours will be a long and passionate affair. I’d delayed long enough my initiation, and the first time, the time when the bonds are formed, this is when you have the most power. I am not saddened I used it here and now.”

“Nor am I.” Alyx nodded solemnly to him. “General, this will sound insane, but do not think it so. You need, with yourarcanslata, to send a message to Queen Cams.”

Adrogans’ eyes hooded. “What makes you think … ?”

“Trust, General, trust. You earned mine today by bringing your hidden forces into play. I think I earned yours doing what I did, killing asullanciri. You need to trust me in this, you need to communicate with her, now. It is vital.”

The Jeranese general hesitated for a second more, then moved the wine decanter and tray with two more goblets to the ground. The tabletop it had been on slid to the side to reveal a hollow, and from it he withdrew one of the magickal communications devices. He slid a bead of wood from the top to the bottom of a narrow side and glowing words in a tiny delicate script filled the surface.

Alyx could not read the words at that distance, but she did not need to. Adrogans stiffened, then his shoulders began to sag. He turned and looked at the princess as the words faded.

“You know about this how?”

Alyx shook her head. “I’ve earned your trust in reporting to you so you could learn it. How is immaterial. Say it came to me in a dream and be done with it.”

Adrogans tossed thearcanslata onto his cot amid a tangle of blankets. “A fragment of the DragonCrown is on Wruona. Vionna wishing to play in a game that is worlds above her, and the Azure Spider is abetting her desire. If she gives it to Chytrine …” His voice faded.

“We have to stop her.” Alyx hesitated. “We cannot pack the army up and send it off, since we do not have enough ships to assault Wruona.”

“Agreed; we have just enough to do as bad a job there as the pirates did on Vilwan. If we were to shift the army, Chytrine would know and know why soon enough—if her agents in Lakaslin don’t already know. I’ll tell the queen to spread the tale that the theft was a blind for us to move the fragment to a place no one knows about, to make it impossible to steal. It will cast doubt on the tales of spies and the pirates.”

“That will forestall immediate action, General, but Chytrine will have to move to get the fragment. Vionna will tell her of it as soon as she is able. We have to move fast.”

Adrogans nodded. “You’ll have to do it, Princess, you and your band of friends.”

“My band of friends?”

“Crow, Resolute, the others.”

“But we’ve been preparing to rescue the hostages in Svoin.”

“I know, but their lives will mean nothing if Chytrine gets that DragonCrown fragment. This operation will be the same as the rescue. Infiltrate, locate, appropriate, and evacuate.”

“No, no, no.” She stared at him. “It is not the same at all. We don’t know Wruona, we’ve not been in Port Gold. The place will be full of pirates….”

“Not as full as it was a month ago.”

“No, it’s impossible. We don’t know the place—” But before she could continue, shouts arose from outside. She turned toward the doorway as Lombo barged in, dragging two Horse Guards who were unsuccessfully trying to detain him. Behind him, Phfas and Crow entered the tent.

One of the Guards, the sergeant she’d encountered before, slid to the ground and saluted. “Begging your pardon, sir, but…”

“I understand. Dismissed.”

As the two soldiers departed, a Spritha sailed through the doorway and perched itself on Lombo’s shoulder. The Panqui nodded, then looked at Alexia. “Port Gold, Lombo know. Stealing there easy.”

“You see, General, optimism.”

The Panqui growled. “Escaping, very hard.”

Alexia exhaled slowly. “I know some Panqui have been pirates, but you were … ?”

Lombo pounded a fist against his chest, spilling Qwc from his perch. “Lombo best pirate. Get into Port Gold easy.”

Adrogans raised an eyebrow. “Easy?”

The Panqui nodded. “Pirates never suspect Lombo.”

“Why not?”

Lombo flashed a mouthful of teeth in a terrible grin. “They think Lombo dead.”

Kerrigan shifted uneasily in his chair. The journey from the Zhusk plateau had taken an easy week on the descent, but the trip back there and beyond to the Jeranese port of Ooriz had been accomplished in three days. Three verylong days, riding horses to the point of exhaustion and pushing the riders even further. All of their road camps were cold, not out of fear of discovery or lack of wood, but lack of time. In a couple of Zhusk villages they did pick up new horses and got some warm food, but otherwise they pushed hard enough that even Lombo was all but dead with fatigue.

Finally, in the wee hours of the morning, they arrived at the port. Lombo led them straight to the docks and quickly they divested themselves of their road clothes and found items a bit more colorful and fragrant with which to disguise themselves. Both Alexia and Resolute had to dye their hair—she opting for black while Resolute picked an icy blue.

Kerrigan had spent his life wearing robes, so shifting to boots, pantaloons, and voluminous shirts layered with the sleeves slashed to show a rainbow of colors felt completely alien to him. He hated wearing a kerchief to hide his hair until he saw how good it looked on Dranae. In fact, the two of them had similar enough of a look that the others cast them as brothers who had gone to sea together.

Kerrigan waited with Dranae and Orla in a small quayside tavern with low beams, lower lights, and clientele that seemed happily at home amid either. Orla had adopted fishwife garb, but gave every evidence of being ready to tuck her hem up into her belt as needed to work a ship. Dranae, while he wore layered shirts like Kerrigan, had opted to retain his kilt—in keeping with other sailors they saw.

Alexia and Lombo had gone off to finish the negotiations for a boat to take them to Wruona. Crow, Resolute, and Will were watching over them, with Qwc and Perrine poised to help or run messages as needed. The two winged members of their company were not among the races given to being pirates—by virtue of their being so rare outside their homelands—so they were to keep out of sight and would travel in the crow’s-nest or belowdecks.

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