The Crown and the Dragon (23 page)

Chapter Thirty-One

Just as Magister Corvus tucked away the two halves of the Falarica, the door banged open. Corvus turned, ready to deliver a rebuke to whoever had dared to interrupt him. The words froze on his lips when he saw the imposing figure who had thrown the door open. Imperator Strabus.

Strabus’s bear-like frame filled the doorway as he took in the scene. He exhaled slowly, his nostrils flaring and his blond moustache bristling with fury. Though he was unarmed, the passion of his anger filled the room with a nearly palpable presence. Corvus took an involuntary step back.

“Take this girl,” Strabus said in Vitalae, pointing to Elenn.

Behind Strabus stood the legionaries whom Corvus had set to watch the door and prevent him from being disturbed, Bruttius and Hostilius. The two soldiers glanced at each other and stepped forward to fulfill Strabus’s command. Neither one met Corvus’s gaze.

“Forgiveness, Magister,” whispered Septor Bruttius.

“Silence!” roared Strabus. “One more word out of either of you and I will have you castrated to see if it makes you more compliant!”

Bruttius paled, and he and Hostilius pulled Elenn out of the room. Elenn herself offered not a word of protest. The soldiers shut the door behind them, leaving Corvus alone in the room with Strabus.

“Imperator,” said Corvus carefully.

“Shut your mouth, you insubordinate fool,” growled Strabus. “Do not make me lay my hands on you, because I may just kill you more quickly than you deserve. And that would make me truly angry.”

Corvus bowed his head and stood, silently watching Strabus, who gazed out the cell’s small, barred window.

“Explain yourself, Corvus,” said Strabus, regaining his composure.

“It was within my imperium as Magister,” said Corvus. “You have authority over military affairs, but I have authority over civil and religious matters. And as the Senate’s writ specifies, I am entitled in times of crisis to—”

“Don’t you dare hide behind legal niceties,” interrupted Strabus, still looking out the window. “There’s no Senate in this room, Corvus. Just you and me.” His voice was so soft and calm it was terrifying.

“As you say,” Corvus agreed.

“Now,” said Strabus, “you took thirty of my legionaries and attacked a nunnery. Why?”

“You’ve told me that I was too lenient with the Orders,” said Corvus. “You said we needed to let them know that the Emperor ruled here.”

Strabus turned and regarded Corvus, contempt evident on his face. “What kind of moron do you take me for? Are you going to pretend you didn’t see a problem with this?”

Corvus opened his mouth, but Strabus held up his hand. “Let me make this simple,” Strabus said. “Burning nuns makes the natives restless, and there’s nothing I hate more than restless natives.” He smiled. “Except disobedient subordinates. You are relieved of your duty and confined to this room. The girl will be executed immediately.”

Strabus turned and walked to the door.

“Executed on what charge?” Corvus demanded.

Strabus turned, incredulous. “You’re asking about
her
? This girl, what is she to you?” Before Corvus could reply, Strabus shouted, “Nothing! Do you hear me? Nothing!”

“What charge?” Corvus repeated stubbornly.

Strabus snorted. “Treason and sedition.”

“You have no evidence,” said Corvus.

“Two weeks ago there was a mountain of evidence!” Strabus said. “You’ve been bleating on about it forever!”

“There is none,” said Corvus.

“So,” said Strabus, “you are a liar. And you are using the Empire’s resources for your own means.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why you keep handing me cudgels to beat you with, Corvus, but I appreciate it nonetheless.” Strabus opened the door.

“I petition for trial by combat,” said Corvus.

“I have no interest in your primitive Deiran customs,” said Strabus. He pursed his lips in disgust. “And frankly I’m surprised at you. You’re a Vitalion citizen, with a commission from the Emperor. Pull yourself together and face your punishment like a man.”

“Not for me,” said Corvus. “For her. The Senate decreed twenty years ago that the Vitalion would observe Deiran law. She is your subject, and you have no evidence! Trial by combat must be observed.”

”Very well,” said Strabus. “She shall have her trial by combat. And you shall represent the Empire’s interests in this, not hers!”

Corvus was silent.

“You may be one of the Emperor’s little pets,” said Strabus, “but out here you’re just another self-serving dog in need of a beating. She shall have three days for a champion to proclaim himself. If no one steps forward, she shall be executed. If one does, then either you are slain or you defeat her champion and she dies. Either way, you solve a problem for me.”

Strabus exited the room and closed the door. Corvus sat on the stool and listened to the rasp as soldiers outside slid the plank into place to bar the door.

Aedin woke up in darkness. He tried to sit up, but gasped, feeling a terrible pain in his side. A hand helped him ease back down into a pile of soft skins. He groaned, clamping a hand over the wound in his gut. The skin was hot to the touch.

“Lie still, my love,” whispered a woman’s gentle voice.

“Nywen?” he said, reaching out for his wife.

“You know that’s not my name,” said the woman.

“Sorry,” said Aedin, struggling to orient himself. The voice was familiar, but his memory was a blur of confused images. “Where am I?”

“Where do you think you are?” the woman said.

“It’s not heaven, is it?” he asked.

The woman laughed. “Oh, my poor sweet babe. You are very confused indeed.” She tousled his hair, as if he were a child.

Aedin tried in vain to clear the cobwebs from his mind. “What happened to me? How did I get here?”

“What do you remember?”

“I was stabbed,” he said, “clean through.”

“Go on,” said the woman. She stroked his forehead tenderly.

He frowned. In his mind he saw an image of a large, bald, ugly man. “Leif,” he muttered.

“Good, you remember,” said the woman. She lifted a wooden cup of bitter tea to his lips. “Now, tell me, my dear, why were you fighting with Leif?”

“Elenn,” said Aedin, without thinking. “He wanted Elenn.”

The woman took the cup abruptly and sat back. His eyes were growing accustomed to the darkness. He could make out her shape, kneeling beside him.

“Lilith,” he said.

“Yes,” she said. “You remember my name at last.” All the warmth and tenderness was gone from her voice, and from her posture.

“Lilith, I’m sorry. Sorry I left you. And sorry I came back. Didn’t mean to hurt you.” He reached for her hand.

“I have to go,” she said, standing.

“Where?”

“To see Clooney,”

“Clooney?” Aedin cried, trying to sit up.

“Lie down,” said Lilith, kneeling beside him again and pushing him back into the bedding. “You’re in no danger. Clooney wants you healthy.”

“Why?” he asked.

“So no one can say he had an advantage when he kills you,” she said.

“Have to get out of here,” he muttered.

“So eager to flee,” she murmured, caressing his cheek. “So quick to leave me once again.”

“That’s not fair, Lilith,” said Aedin. “We both made our choices, a long time ago.”

She sighed, and withdrew her hand. “I suppose we did,” she said. “But that’s all past, one way or another. Clooney is your present trouble. And he’ll not let you walk away from him again. There are guards all round. No way out for you, my little lost lamb.”

He moaned with pain and frustration. “Clooney can kill me if he likes. But not yet. Not until I get to Tantillion. Have to save Elenn.”

“Hush, now,” she said. “Hush.” She lifted the cup to his mouth again, stroking his throat gently to help him swallow the bitter tea.

“Tell Clooney,” he said between swallows. “Tell him, Nywen.” His lips felt fat and clumsy, and his eyes were heavy. “Barethon’s girl… She’s… the Paladin.”

“Hush, baby,” said Lilith. “Time to sleep.”

Aedin slept.

***

Chapter Thirty-Two

Elenn knelt on the stone floor of her dungeon cell, the only light coming from the cracks under and above the thick door. The straw on the floor was damp, and it reeked, but she could not afford to leave any part of it unexamined. So she felt about, searching every nook and cranny for some hint of a way out.

She remembered how easily she had let the Vitalion soldiers take her from her first cell to this desolate spot. She was outnumbered, after all. What good would it have done her to make a fuss? And she had been pleased to see Corvus, the old crow himself, discomfited. Part of her thought that perhaps this new person was on her side, by dint of being opposed to Corvus.

Instead, he had sent her down to the dungeon. Elenn could hardly believe it. Of course, it was not unusual for a Deiran noble to be held captive. Members of wealthy Houses were often held for ransom after losing a battle. But there was an etiquette to be followed—after all, such hostages were too valuable to mistreat. Or so she had thought.

She had done everything she could to resist, but it was no use. She found herself shoved unceremoniously into the dank, dark cell. Her cries of protest went unanswered, as did her screams and her sobs. At last, she crawled into a corner and gave in to despair. She felt like she was sinking into a bottomless pit, or the depths of the ocean.

As she sat, numb, she heard something. At first, it failed to register, and then she heard it more clearly. Somewhere, she could hear a bird chirping. She scrambled to her feet and began shuffling around the room, trying to find the best location to hear the bird. She even tried whistling back a piece of the tune. She told herself that it sounded like a finch. It could even be Gawaine.

As she thanked the Gods for this wondrous blessing, Elenn felt her heart lift. She remembered what her aunt had said to her in the Glyderinge: “You are stronger, and braver, and wiser than you could ever have imagined.” She thought back on all that she had passed through in the last two weeks. She wouldn't have believed that she could survive, but she had.

Maybe she was underwater again, so to speak, but even when drowning she had heard the song of the nymphs. Even then, she had been delivered. She sat up straight. This time, she was not going to float helplessly and wait to be saved. This time, she would rise up. So she dried her tears and searched the cell on hands and knees.

When she was sure there was no ordinary means of escape, she decided to try conjuring. It was more difficult without the Falarica, to be sure, but she had done it before. She could do it again.

Elenn quieted her mind and held out her hands, trying to whisper the door open. After minutes of focus and meditation, her conjuring failed. She thought she felt it shift slightly, but that was all. Part of her wanted to scream in despair, but, praying to the Gods, she resolved not to give in.

If she could not escape her cell, perhaps she could at least make it more bearable. She knelt down by the door and concentrated on the dim light that leaked in under the door. Closing her eyes, she reached out toward that poor little light with her hands, and with her heart. With every breath out, she pushed out the darkness. With every breath in, she invited the light to come in and fill the room.

Suddenly, even with her eyes closed, she was aware of a great increase in light. Her eyelids flew open. Was it her imagination? No, more light was pouring in through the cracks around the door. Elenn laughed aloud with delight.

The great iron lock turned and the door creaked open, flooding her gloomy cell with brilliant illumination. Her eyes, now accustomed to darkness, squeezed shut. Holding up her hands to block out some of the harsh glare, she opened her eyes just enough to see Corvus looming above her with a nervous-looking legionary at his side. Both men held oil lamps in their hands.

She scowled. This was not exactly what she had been praying for.

“Not happy to see me, I take it,” said Corvus.

“Why should I be?” said Elenn, using the stone wall to pull herself to her feet.

“Because I’m getting you out of here,” he said, tossing her a bundle of clothing.

She looked him in the eye. He seemed upset. Did that mean he was lying? “Why are you doing this?”

“Because a vibrance and an instinct like yours is so rare,” he said, inhaling deeply, “I can’t… I won’t allow them to take you from me.” He reached out toward her, inviting her to take his hand.

She hesitated. Was this her rescue? Was this her salvation?
Please
, she prayed,
gods of my fathers, show me if this is deliverance or destruction.

“You are strong,” Corvus said, “but the Empire is stronger. And being the Paladin doesn’t make you immortal. Come with me, and I will protect you.”

She took a deep breath. “No.”

Taken aback, he lowered his hand. “No?” he asked.

“Magister,” said the soldier, “there’s no time. We need to leave. Immediately.”

Corvus waved for him to be patient, but the soldier turned and ran down the dimly lit dungeon corridor.

“Strabus will see me fall,” Corvus said, his eyes locked on Elenn’s. “Forget these people, forget this land, forget the dragon. I can save you. I can take you to a place where none of this matters.”

“No,” she repeated emphatically, more sure of herself with each heartbeat. He spoke of salvation, but cared for no one but himself. He promised protection, but all he wanted was control. And he complimented her strength, but obviously didn’t trust her to think or act for herself.

“What difference is your death going to make?” he demanded.

“More difference than my life will make if I leave with you,” she said. In his eyes, she wasn’t truly a person. She was a precious object, like the Falarica, to be kept in a pretty box. To be admired and studied. To be used. She shivered.

Corvus stepped into the dingy cell and grabbed her by both arms. “I have petitioned for trial by combat. I’m being forced to fight for the Emperor. If no champion appears in the next two days, you will be executed.”

Elenn said nothing, though her heart leaped as she envisioned Aedin appearing to defend her honor. Could she even dare to hope for his return? She didn’t know where he was, or even if he was alive. And if he did come—what then? Corvus had been known since his youth as one of Deira’s finest duelists. Aedin could easily be killed or crippled. And she would die anyway. Better for him to stay away, she decided.

Imitating her aunt Ethelind’s most maddeningly serene expression, Elenn coolly returned Corvus’s gaze and smiled.

“What? You think someone is coming to save you?” he demanded. “No one even knows you are here.”

“It will be as the Gods will it,” she said.

“Do you know what the Vitalion will do to you?” he cried. “It’s not fast. They won’t let it be fast. Gods above, woman! I beg you for the last time, come with me and forget this foolishness.”

“You talk about how urgent it is to leave,” she said, “but you stay here all the same.”

Corvus released her.

Elenn stepped back and folded her arms.

“Then… you’ll die,” he said, stunned. “And no Paladin will emerge to defeat the dragon. Lammas Eve will pass, and Garrick will not be crowned. What then?”

“Your man had the right idea, Corvus,” she said, ignoring his question. “You’d better get out of here before they find you talking to me.”

He slammed the door shut and turned the key in the great iron lock. Elenn heard his boots ringing down the stone corridor, growing more distant with each step. She was alone again.

She smiled. Now, more than ever, she was sure she had made the right choice.

When Aedin next regained consciousness, it was day, although he was not sure what day. Blinking his eyes, he saw that he was in a sod-roofed dugout with no furniture. He lay naked in a pile of soft skins. A small fire burned in one corner. Lilith was gone.

He pulled himself to his feet and felt a tightness and an ache in his side. He looked down and saw that the wound had been replaced by a white scar. He almost fell down. How long had he been out? What had happened to Elenn?

With a groan, he wrapped a skin around himself and lurched to the earthen steps leading up and out of the dugout. When he reached the wooden trapdoor, he found it opening from the other side. Framed by the bright light of the sun outside, Lilith stood above him.

“Get back inside,” she hissed, “do you want to get yourself killed?” She stepped down into the dugout, trying to push him back down the steps.

Aedin stubbornly refused to budge, digging his fingers into the sod walls. “I don’t see any guards,” he said. “Where are Clooney’s clansmen? Where are the Taftoughin?”

“Back any minute,” she insisted. “If they know you’re well enough to stand, they’ll take you back to Clooney’s brough for the duel.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Believe it!” said Lilith, pushing him harder. “My word is the only reason you’re here and alive instead of dead in Clooney’s brough.”

“You’re lying,” he said. “There are no guards. The Taftoughin don’t know I’m here.”

“Get inside and lie down!” she cried, pounding his chest with her fists.

“No,” said Aedin. He roughly shoved Lilith aside, for which she repaid him with a long string of names that he more or less deserved.

Rising up out of the dugout, he surveyed the land and judged himself to be somewhere in the southern highlands of Ghel, in dragon country. He had vague memories of walking south through the Narrows, so this made sense. Tethered to a nearby beech was a horse, but he saw no guards or any sign that men had kept watch outside the dugout.

“Where’s my sword?” Aedin said. It had been Leif’s, one of his gifts from the Vitalion in exchange for his treachery.

“You didn’t have a shirt when I found you, much less a sword,” said Lilith, angrily scrubbing her eyes as she sat on the sod steps. “What do you need one for now? Are you in such a hurry to die?”

“They took Elenn,” he said, “and I don’t know if she’s alive. Gods, I don’t even know how long I’ve been asleep.” He spun and glared down at her. “Your doing, isn’t it? You did this to me, with your accursed conjuring.”

“All I ever wanted to do was help you.”

“Then why didn’t you come with me?” he asked, striding over to her. “Why did you let me leave?”

She turned away. “Because I couldn’t bear to watch you throw your life away for nothing.”

“Wasn’t for nothing,” he said, sitting down beside her on the earthen steps. “It was for our country. For our people. For our…” He hesitated. “… children.”

Lilith glared at him, and Aedin was sure that as soon as she opened her mouth, all the old arguments were going to pour out. But instead she cried. And he held her. After a few minutes, she pulled away from his embrace. She wiped her eyes and nose with the back of her hand.

“He never gave me any children, you know,” she said. “None of them have. So it wasn’t you. I was the one to blame. Of course.”

Aedin sighed. “What’s the use of handing out blame? What happened, happened. It’s over now.”

“Has been for years,” she agreed quietly.

For a moment, neither one said a word.

“What have you told her about me? Does she know how you got her ring back?” Lilith asked.

“Told her a few things,” he said. “Not the whole story. Maybe someday.”

She nodded. “Do you love her?”

He cleared his throat. “I don’t think that matters,” he said, finally. “She’s the Paladin. Best hope there is to unite our people and drive the Vitalion and their monsters from this land. Can you imagine that? No more dragon? The land full of farms and villages again? She can make that happen. Whatever I might feel about her doesn’t matter at all.”

She snorted. “What a man feels always matters—especially for you.” She laughed. “I always said if Deira had a face, you would kiss it. Now you can.”

He suspected that this was Lilith’s way of trying to find out if he had in fact kissed Elenn, but he ignored her prying. It wasn’t her business anymore. And it didn’t matter.

“She needs my help,” he said. “I have to go to her.”

She looked up at him and sighed. “I have a sword in a cache not far from here. Come, I’ll show you.” She stood and walked up out of the dugout. Aedin followed her.

“You’ve slept less than two days,” she said. “If you take my horse, you should reach her in time.”

“How do you—?” he began. He stopped in his tracks. Conjuring.

She turned. Seeing the discomfort on his face, she grinned. “That’s right, lover. I saw it in the flames.”

She cupped her hands together, brought them to her lips, and blew. A tiny green flame blossomed into existence inside her cupped hands. It licked up at her face like an adoring puppy. Incredibly, this seemed to do her no harm.

“Since the moment I saw you in Clooney’s court,” she said, “you’ve talked of nothing—waking or sleeping—but this Elenn of Adair.” The flickering fire danced between her fingers, slowly taking shape until a ghostly green form stood in each of her palms.

“She lives,” said Lilith. “At Tantillion castle. But unless you reach her by noon tomorrow, she will die.” She closed her left hand, and with a squeak like a frightened mouse, one of the tiny flame-people was extinguished. She smiled.