[Hurog 01] - Dragon Bones (26 page)

Apparently reassured it wouldn't have to fight any of us for its dinner, the basilisk butted Landislaw with its jaw, knocking him over. It opened its mouth to reveal small, triangular teeth no larger than a dog's. Swiveling its head, it engulfed Landislaw's upper body, and then the reptilian nose jerked upward, forcing the limp man to slide into its maw.

One of the guards who'd been holding Landislaw turned to the side and began vomiting helplessly.
Landislaw wasn't dead. Held by the basilisk's terrible magic, he would be slowly digested while he yet lived.

I'd never liked Landislaw, but no one deserved that.

“What happens to the chains?” I asked in a casual tone. I was counting on the dimness of the hall hiding my paleness.

Kariarn's eyebrow raised in reaction to my casual tone. “It vomits up the hard tissues after a few days.”

“Like an owl,” I said, holding my voice level. Never let the enemy know what scares you. I kept my gaze on Kariarn's face, not wanting to witness Garranon's pain. “Where did you find out how to control it?”

Kariarn smiled as if he'd found a soul mate. If I could convince him of it . . . My plan was half formed at best, the better to accommodate the changing situation.

“The Cholynn was very helpful. She is tired of Tallvenish rule. Without Jakoven, the Cholytes could take over and run the whole country. Her order has libraries that date back to the time of the Empire, and she has sent me several mages—though none as useful as Bastilla has proved.”

“Why did you bring me here to see this?” I asked.

“Bastilla thought you might be interested in my stone dragon, since Hurog was once the home to dragons.” He smiled suddenly. “Do you know that the emperors had dragons in their service? I am the first since the ancient times to own a dragon.”

He was the first what?
Emperor?
He did not have his empire yet.

I nodded thoughtfully. “Tell me, Your Highness, how do you intend to return Hurog to me?” There was no need to fake my feelings for my home; doubtless even the impassive-faced soldiers heard my lust.

Kariarn laughed, “Directly to business. Why the change of heart?”

“You expect me to lose face before my brother? Eventually, he'll come around to the idea that I did it to save Hurog. But it will take time for him to adjust. I know the
Tallvenish king will never return her to me, and I have little love left for him after he killed my cousin. My question is: What is your price?”

“Nothing you cannot pay,” he said quickly, afraid his fish would slip the hook. “You will give me loyalty and taxes as you now do to Tallven.”

“I've made vows to Tallven,” I said letting the thought trouble my brow as if I'd just realized what accepting Kariarn's help would mean. “A Hurog does not break vows.”

“No one holds to vows that are already broken,” he said. “Jakoven Tallven broke the bonds his ancestors forged with Hurog so many years when he stole Hurog from you on a whim. You owe him nothing.”

I let my jaw harden as he spoke, then widened my eyes and let them go soft and sad. “He did. Just as he allowed your armies to ravage Oranstone after he took away their means to defend themselves. Such a man does not deserve to be king.”

“How easily you give away your honor, boy,” said Garranon. His voice was thick with tears and anger.

“How dare you speak of honor to me!” I roared in my father's best manner.
“You
took away my Hurog, and why? So that your traitorous little brother could escape Ciernack's slap on the wrist? A punishment your brother well deserved. Perhaps if you let him accept the responsibility for his actions just once, he wouldn't have ended here. I will not hear talk of honor from Jakoven's whore.” I wanted Garranon and his lady to escape tonight with Oreg and Tosten. With luck, Kariarn would never believe I'd lifted a single finger to help them.

“Take Lord Garranon and the lady back to their previous quarters,” ordered Kariarn sharply.

Garranon narrowed his eyes at me, his anger a smoldering flame that momentarily blotted out the terrible agony in his eyes. His voice was a whisper that carried through the room. “Unlike you, my brother was no traitor.
He owed no oath to Jakoven, and he wanted freedom for his people. He was guilty of stupidity and shortsightedness. You add greed to his list of faults. I hope I live long enough to see you feed the basilisk.”

He caught my gaze as tightly as ever the basilisk could, holding my eyes until the guardsmen dragged him from the room.

Kariarn patted my arm. “You are no traitor. Jakoven is no king of Shavig or Oranstone. A real king protects his people.”

I tilted my chin up and turned back to the king of Vorsag. “You are right.” I said decisively. “No king who deserves that name would do so little to protect his people. Now, what are you going to do about Hurog, and why are you interested in it? Hurog has no wealth.”

“No, but she has great power. And I'm not speaking of just the dragon bones. Ciernack tells me that when your uncle defied the king after he killed your cousin, all of Shavig marched to his tune.”

“Well, of course.” I said as if it hadn't surprised me to hear of it. “Hurog is a proud name in Shavig.” I let the thought collect visibly. “Oh, I see. Through me you'll control Shavig. But that won't work if they know that you put me in control. Shavigmen don't like the Vorsag.”

Kariarn smiled. “I knew you were smarter than Landislaw. What if we make you the rescuer of Hurog? Defending her from her foes. We'll kill your uncle, and then you'll return and take his men, driving us out of Hurog—
after
I get the dragon bones.”

“And welcome to them,” I said in an absent but truthful tone. The dragon was dead, and it was the living I had to protect. “But do we have to kill my uncle?”

“He took Hurog from you, Ward. He deserves no mercy.”

I took in a deep breath, as if steeling myself to a difficult task. “You're right. Yes, I'll do it. But what about my brother? I won't have him killed.”

“That's not necessary—if you can convince him to follow your lead.”

I nodded. “I think I can bring him around.”

 

THEY
CLEANED AND BANDAGED
the arm Penrod had wounded before the guardsmen escorted me ever so courteously back to my cell. Even the locking of the door was done with an apologetic air. They did not reattach me to the wall. The cell had been cleaned while I was gone; stale, musty straw was replaced by fresh, flower-scented rushes.

Tosten was sitting in the corner of the room, his knees up and his head buried against them. The light from the small window high over our heads didn't let me see much more. I'd been consumed with my private guilt, having watched a man die without lifting a finger to prevent it; but my brother's state pushed that to the background.

“Tosten?” I asked. But he didn't look up.

“Bastilla healed him,” said Oreg from behind me. He startled me, but it was as much the anger in his voice as the sudden appearance.

“She crawled inside my mind,” Tosten whispered. “I couldn't keep her out. She stole my soul, and I couldn't stop her.”

Frightened, I looked at Oreg, who shook his head and said, “No one stole your soul, Tosten. You can give it away, but they cannot steal it, not even by ruse.”

“Gods,” Tosten moaned.

I put a hand on his shoulder.

He stopped rocking and looked up at me. “What happened to you?”

My mind flashed back to the basilisk, and I swallowed bile. “Is there anyone listening?” I asked Oreg.

He tilted his head a moment. “Not by magic.”

“Kariarn took me to watch his basilisk eat Landislaw
whole. It just engulfed him, like a snake eating a mouse.” Even saying it made me feel ill.

“Why didn't he chain you up again?” asked Tosten, who knew who Landislaw was but had never met him, leaving him unmoved to the boy's fate.

“Because he wants Shavig, and he thinks Hurog will sway the other Northlanders, something we may have to thank Duraugh for,” I answered, glad to change the subject. Much better to worry about Kariarn then to continue to think about Landislaw slowly dissolving inside the basilisk. “Give me a few moments to think.”

They were silent as I ran through possibilities in my head.

There was a game that my aunt taught me to play once. It involved taking a skip-stone board and imagining all the possible combinations of play.

Kariarn was leaving for Hurog very soon, and Garranon and his wife would be dead before Kariarn left: He could not afford to leave the Lord of Buril alive. So Oreg would have to get them out of the keep.

Kariarn's abrupt delay of his plans for Oranstone after Bastilla brought us here puzzled me. Kariarn couldn't have had a better setup to take Oranstone. But Haverness might discover Kariarn's people here anytime. And Kariarn was going to risk that in order to get dragon bones out of Hurog?

Obsessions,
I thought,
this is all about obsessions.
Kariarn wanted magic more than he wanted Oranstone. “What will he do with the bones?”

“Bastilla thinks drinking powdered dragon bones could make her the most powerful wizard alive,” said Tosten. “She was gloating over it.”

“What would it do for someone who could not work magic?” I asked.

“It could turn him into a mage for a time,” answered Oreg. “But he'd have to continue consuming the bones to keep his powers. Eventually, it would kill him.”

“Oreg, if you were at Hurog, could you keep the wizards from finding the dragon?” I asked. “Bastilla left a strand of hair in the cave.”

“Possibly,” he said. “How many wizards does he have?”

“How many could you defeat?”

“If I were in the keep, I could keep three or four of Bastilla's caliber out for a few days. If I could find her hair and get rid of it, much longer.”

“Could you destroy the dragon bones?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No.”

I nodded and dropped back into thought.

“Ward? Why did Bastilla have Penrod try to kill you?” asked Tosten. “She knew Kariarn wanted the bones, and you were the best way to get them.”

“What?” asked Oreg.

I hadn't had time to think about it, but Tosten was right. It was strange. I told Oreg about Penrod's attack and how my brother had saved me.

I thought about the odd look I'd seen on Bastilla's face in Haverness's great hall while I'd been laughing with Tisala and of her reaction when I'd explained why I could not be her lover. Had she been so angry with me that she would risk Kariarn's wrath to kill me?

“I suspect Kariarn doesn't know anything about it,” I said. “I wonder how much she can do outside his orders?” Oreg just shook his head, so I put the problem of Bastilla aside and thought about more immediate concerns.

Garranon, his wife, and Tosten had to get to safety. I would risk my life but not my brother's. With him safe, I could go with Kariarn to Hurog. Kariarn would destroy my home in order to get the dragon bones; if I were there with Oreg, destroying Hurog would not be necessary.

“The king,” I said slowly to myself, not to my audience. “The king killed our cousin and took Hurog from me, which absolves me of oaths taken as the Hurogmeten's heir. Kariarn proposes to return Hurog to me if I support him.”

Tosten staggered to his feet. “Ward . . . Don't do it. You can't trust him.”

“No,” I agreed mildly. “But then, he can't trust me, either. He's going to attack Hurog one way or the other. I need to be there, and the fastest way to Hurog is to ride with him.”

Tosten frowned at me.

“However,” I said, staring at the wall again, “when I tell you my intentions, you become enraged and hit me with—” I looked around and found a new item in the cell that had been added to increase our creature comforts. “—with the chamber pot, knocking me unconscious. You escape the cell by some ingenious method. . . .” I stared at the door, but it looked solid. There was no bar on it, though, just a large iron lock.

“Tosten spent a lot of time on the waterfront,” said Oreg. “Waterfront rats have all sorts of useful skills.”

I gave Tosten an interested look, and he squirmed. “All right. I know how to pick most locks if you give me a day or two.”

“I can do it faster,” offered Oreg.

I grinned. “So, thinking he's killed me, Tosten gets the door open and searches through the rooms up here until he finds Garranon and his lady—because Garranon knows how to get out.”

Tosten drew a deep breath. “I know Oreg will go with you . . . but are you sure you don't want me, too? I make a fair backup.” It amazed me, coming out of Tosten. Not the offer, but the manner in which he offered it, his quiet acknowledgment that Oreg would be more help.

“I need Oreg because of Bastilla and Hurog,” I said. “I need you because you can show Garranon back to Tisala and safety. I need you because Beckram likes you, and he just might listen to you tell him a crazy tale about runaway slaves who are spies and dragon bones hidden in the heart
of Hurog. Get him to gather the Blue Guard and force-march to Hurog.”

He gave me a wary look and checked my face for sincerity. Then he straightened his shoulders and nodded. I'd given him a task to do. I'd gotten him out of danger, especially since there was absolutely no way he could travel all the way back to Callis, get Beckram, and ride to Hurog before Kariarn got us all on ships and sailed into Tyrfannig harbor. Geography had never been his strong point. He'd be angry, but he'd be safe.

When Oreg opened the door after a bit of magic at the lock, we could hear the guards at the bottom of the stairs. We kept quiet as we began to search the other rooms on the same floor. Garranon and his wife were in the second cell we found. Oreg had no more trouble with that lock than he'd had with ours.