Shadowed By Wings (22 page)

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Authors: Janine Cross

Tags: #Fantasy Fiction, #Dragons, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Epic

BOOK: Shadowed By Wings
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“Onais serve dragons. I’ve been circumcised by a holy knife in the manner of those women.”

“I’ve heard my brother use that argument against the Ranreeb and our Daron.”

Of course he had. I dropped my eyes. “Yes, Bayen Hacros. Forgive me.”

His soft suede boots shifted. “So you wish to be an apprentice. You wish to serve Roshu-Lupini Re’s dragons.”

“Yes, Bayen Hacros.”

“To one day become dragonmaster of this Clutch?”

Blood roared in my ears.

“Do you see yourself one day as dragonmaster of Re’s estate?” Ghepp asked again.

My head lifted higher than it should have. “I mean to survive Arena and survive it repeatedly, and I mean to bring glory to Re in the process. Yes, Bayen Hacros. I
will
become dragonmaster.”

He cocked his head to one side. “A great ambition, for a rishi via.”

“I am no ordinary rishi via.”

Though he didn’t look skyward, I saw what flashed through his mind: the Skykeeper.

“No,” he murmured, “you are not.”

Several heartbeats passed. We stood so close, I could see a minuscule cut on his jawline, where a servant had carelessly nicked him while scraping away stubble that very morn. I stared at that tiny cut in skin so smooth it reminded me of the taut muscles beneath the pale yellow pelt of a wangiki deer.

“And why become dragonmaster?” he finally said. “What need has a Clutch and a bull of a female dragonmaster?”

I studied him from under the fringe of my dark hair. I decided to risk it, then, encouraged by his calm mien, his gentle beauty, his captivating, canted eyes that glowed like polished chestnuts streaked with gold.

“A dragonmaster has power, Bayen Hacros. The status of a Clutch is determined by the dragonmaster’s performance each year in Arena.” My voice dropped, went hoarse. “I would use that power to elevate those I feel are deserving of advancement, and depose those whose cruel natures I feel only threaten the prosperity of a Clutch’s populace. My womanhood grants me the vision and scope that another apprentice, who is driven only by glory and fame, lacks.”

His beautiful eyes never wavered from mine. “You assume much, rishi via.”

“I have a Skykeeper at my command, and I make those assumptions with the confidence of having that creature as my ally.”

He studied me some more, then looked away and stroked an earlobe, from which protruded a rigid teak earring, spiral carved in the shape of a dragon’s tail. To either side of him, his chancellors remained impassive, though they watched me closely. The Cafar guards who stood sentinel a short distance away watched none of us, but kept a vigilant eye upon their surroundings. They were pretending to be deaf.

“One of our great tale spinners has said that nobility without virtue is but a fine setting without a gem,” Ghepp finally murmured, as if to himself. He looked at me again. “You would agree, it seems.”

“I do.”

“My brother risks much by succoring you in my father’s stables. Clearly he has not heard your views.”

I licked my dry lips, tried to speak past the unsteady pounding of my heart. “I’ve not expressed my views to anyone until this moment.”

“You take a risk expressing them now.”

“The person who risks nothing and does nothing
is
nothing.”

“You are rishi. You know nothing of politics. You know nothing of duplicity and scheming. You have no subtlety.”

“I’m rishi; I know of hardship and loss. Strength alone knows conflict.”

A smile played briefly upon his lips at our exchange. “Temple looks to execute you, oh-clever-and-courageous deviant.”

I took a shuddering breath. “If I fail, then my failure will be but a challenge to others. But I won’t fail. I have perseverance, the Scroll of the Right-Headed Crane, and the Skykeeper on my side.”

We held each other’s gazes for a long moment. Then he nodded, once.

“This has been a most interesting conversation. I’ll be watching closely what becomes of you.” He tapped his lower lip thoughtfully with one finger. “Very closely.”

He turned and gestured to his retinue, and they swept from the gymnasium just as the dragonmaster stormed into it, Ringus by his side.

As the dragonmaster stopped at the doorway to let Ghepp pass, he bowed. The bow was perfunctory; Ghepp barely acknowledged it. The two men disliked each other, clearly.

After Ghepp’s departure, the dragonmaster strode to my side, scowling and tugging his chin braid in agitation.

“What did he want?” he demanded.

I frowned, shrugged, and answered truthfully, “I don’t know, Komikon.”

“What did he ask you?”

“Why a woman would want to be an apprentice.”

He gnashed his teeth. “And your response?”

The dragonmaster’s bristling anxiety gave me pause. I prevaricated somewhat. “I told him the Skykeeper guided my actions.”

The dragonmaster grunted and his shoulders twitched. He looked toward where Ghepp had exited. “You realize it’s in his best interests that Temple execute you, yes?”

My blood ran cold.

“How so?” I asked, as coolly as I could.

“Temple won’t grant governorship of Clutch Re to Waikar Re Kratt if they can find lawful grounds for executing you, despite the Scroll of the Right-Headed Crane,” the dragonmaster snapped. “They’ll appropriate the inheritance of this Clutch to Ghepp instead, on the grounds that Kratt succored a deviant and permitted her into his stables. Make no mistake; that man there”—and he stabbed a calloused finger in the direction Ghepp had left in—“is no friend of ours.”

Of course. I hadn’t thought of that. With a sinking heart, I realized that Ghepp had been right: I
was
naïve; I knew nothing of subtlety and politics.

It now remained to be seen what would become of my impulsive conversation with Kratt’s scheming brother.

 

“You’re to come with me, hey,” Dono muttered, standing before me.

It was dusk and we were all sprawled outside the apprentices’s hovel, stomachs full of gruel and limbs heavy with fatigue. I was sitting with Eidon’s crowd of favorites, mulling over Ghepp’s visit and my rash disclosure to him. Dono had entered our ranks without care; he and Eidon had an unspoken truce between them in regard to me, since Dono treated me well most days and since the dragonmaster had favored him as my escort for my last mysterious appointment to see him.

“You’re to come with me,” Dono repeated, and he added, for emphasis, “Komikon’s orders.”

The Komikon was summoning me.

To the old destrier, I instinctively knew.

As I looked up at Dono, my pulse quickened and a flush rose to my cheeks. Shivering as if cold, I nodded, rose to my feet, and followed Dono unsteadily across the twilight-shadowed courtyard.

Our feet kicked up red dust; it clung to our sweat-beaded shanks like droplets of blood. I glanced at Dono as we walked. Even in the gloom of dusk, I could see that color had flushed his own stubbled cheeks. His jaw was set as if in argument.

When we reached the silo courtyard, he abruptly stopped and faced me. I almost stumbled into him, so sudden was his stop.

“Zarq,” he said, and the flush on his cheeks heightened. “I can give you what you want. Every night. During the day, too, if your passion runs that strong.”

I didn’t know how to respond, so far from the truth was his ingenuous offer. He
couldn’t
give me what I wanted. He wasn’t a dragon.

I glanced down at his groin. He had the beginnings of an erection at the mere thought that I possessed an insatiable sexual hunger he must try his best to assuage.

As I grappled for a reply, he licked his lips and shot a look about the silo courtyard we stood in. It was empty save for stalls of heavy-lidded dragons grooming or watching us with disinterest.

“Look. I’ve made my decision,” he continued, his voice dropping lower. “I, danku Re Dono, hereby give up my apprenticeship and claim you, danku Re Darquel’s Zarq, as my roidan yin.”

I gaped; he ploughed on.

“You’ve good enough hips; you’ll bear me fine children. We’ll live in Liru, the capital city. No one will find us there. I’ve already mapped a route to the coast.”

Flabbergasted, I could do nothing but stare at him. He misread my silence.

“Don’t be afraid, Zarq. I’ll protect you. I vow it as your claimer.”

“I … I don’t know what to say,” I stammered. “This is so unexpected.”

He agreed with a brusque nod. “I could claim a much finer woman, that’s true. But rest assured that I mean to uphold my vow as claimer. I
will
provide for you and the children you bear me, regardless of how many women I might claim in the future alongside you.”

I spluttered. He reached out and stroked my arm. His erection was prominent now.

“You look like her, sometimes,” he said huskily, and I realized his eyes were glazing over with memory.

“I’m not Waivia, Dono,” I said, as gently and firmly as I could.

His hand stilled on my arm. I took a quavering breath and covered his hand with one of my own.

“I’m profoundly honored you would choose me as your roidan yin, and I’m overwhelmed that you would give up the apprenticeship for me. Truly, I am.”

His eyes cleared. A frown crept over his face. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

Oh, Re, this was not going to be easy.

“Dono, I’m staying here. In the apprenticeship. I’m not going to leave.”

He let go of my arm and stepped back a pace, so that my hand fell away from him. Color seeped into his cheeks. Not the glow of passion from before, but an angry, white-speckled flush.

“You’re refusing to be my roidan yin?” he asked in disbelief.

“I’m grateful for your offer—”

“It wasn’t an offer.” His voice was climbing. “I claimed you. A woman can’t refute such!”

“I’m a dragonmaster’s apprentice.”

His turn to gape at me, speechless.

“You want to go there, don’t you?” he finally said, hands clenching into fists at his side. “You want to do the Komikon’s bidding.”

“I …” My rebuttal died on my lips. We both knew how badly I wanted to obey the Komikon in this matter.

“Dragonwhore,” he spat.

“You don’t understand.”

“I understand, all right. You prefer the dragon to me. You’re a deviant.”

“No.”

“You only use me to glut your lust for the dragon. When I touch you, you close your eyes and think of a dragon’s scales and claws.”

“And you? What do you think of when you lay with me, hey-o? Not of me, Dono. You don’t think of me. You close your eyes and imagine you’re with my sister.”

“She’s human.”

“A dragon is divine,” I countered.

“You’re depraved.”

“You’re desperate.”

“I’m offering to give up my apprenticeship!” he roared. “I’m willing to risk my life for you, save you from execution!”

Dono’s fury blazed over me and I experienced a moment of vertigo. When my vision returned, I was staring at his outraged face.

I shook my head slowly.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m a dragonmaster’s apprentice. This is my home. This is my … destiny.”

Then I staggered away from him, in the direction of the dome-covered building and the old destrier that awaited me.

ELEVEN

 

T
he Komikon himself carried me back to my stall and lay me in my hammock that night. Not because he’d guessed at the rift between Dono and me, but because he’d hoped that, while still freshly drunk on venom, divine inspiration would strike me and I’d decipher the dragons’ song.

No such thing happened.

Once in my hammock, I fell into a stupor that submerged me swiftly in a fevered sleep. I woke once to find the dragonmaster standing impatiently over me, awaiting my revelation, and the second time, Dono, who watched me with visible resentment, clearly there only at the Komikon’s insistence.

The third time I awoke, it was to find an Auditor looming over me.

Hands chalked the pallor of bone were reaching for me. I stared at them, scarce comprehending, then screamed and bolted upright.

Dono stood on the other side of my hammock, his face an obsidian shadow. Behind him stood a cluster of daronpuis, their porphyry and turquoise robes gleaming like dew-slicked orchids in the spluttering light of the torches they held.

“You are charged with committing impurity with a beast,” boomed the Auditor. “You are hereby sentenced to life imprisonment.”

Fear reignited the excessive amount of venom I’d received at dusk from the Komikon’s destrier; I flung myself at the Auditor and fought like an ocelot, all teeth and claws and writhing body.

“Dono,” I screeched, “get the dragonmaster!”

The Auditor possessed unnatural strength. He pinned me down, bound my hands, hobbled my ankles, and threw me sacklike over his back. Surrounded by the circle of daronpuis, Dono still silent amongst them, I was carried into the courtyard.

Three winged dragons pranced and shuddered in the courtyard’s center, their unbolted wings fanning up great clouds of dust. To the right of them, a goodly distance away, stood Eidon, arguing with a Temple acolyte. Behind him, Egg bellowed for the dragonmaster, who was nowhere to be seen. Ringus sprinted for the sandstone archway. Temple wardens jabbed lances at the rest of the apprentices, ordering them to stand still, while a Temple acolyte raced after Ringus.

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