The Crown and the Dragon (9 page)

“No,” said Corvus.

“Perhaps it has escaped your attention, Magister Corvus,” said Strabus, but this Legion is being transferred North. Deira is nothing more than a muddy little footprint on the road to Minneaus.”

“A united Deira would present a problem in the future,” said Corvus.

Strabus grunted. “The dragon we’ve cursed this place with,” he said, “will make that difficult, may the Gods forgive us. The Deiran should be suitably terrorized for years to come and Garrick would be king all of a day before his Deiran ‘allies’ cut his throat.”

“My lord, if—”

“Request denied,” said Strabus. He pushed the discarded request scroll across the desk to Corvus, who picked it up.

“This audience is now concluded,” said Strabus. “Go talk to the steward and make the arrangements. I’ll have your things sent to his chamber tomorrow morning.”

Corvus saluted curtly and left the room that was no longer his study.

***

Chapter Twelve

Deep in the forest, Elenn set her bird cage on the ground next to a stream and pulled off the cover. Seeing the sun, her little white parrot finch Gawaine sang a cheerful morning song that complemented the burbling of the stream.

Elenn sat herself down on the mossy bank to listen. Then she cried.

After a while, she dipped her hand in the stream and scrubbed away her tears.

“Time to be brave,” she said to Gawaine, “right, little warrior?”

She had to get the Falarica to Ghel—which was far off—before Lammas Eve—which was not far off. Worse, she had no idea how she would get there. Since leaving the road with Aedin and Leif, Elenn had been lost. The three of them had traveled for hours, only stopping when Seissylt had needed to feed or drink. Elenn couldn’t think of a time when she had ever been so tired. But as frightened as she was of the two bandits, she was even more frightened of being left behind in the forest. So she had stumbled along after them until they made camp—well after sunset.

Aedin had told her that she could travel with them one day only, so unless she could change his mind, she would be journeying alone today. She had no map, but she knew Ghel was east. Elenn looked up through the leafy treetops at the rising sun, and oriented herself accordingly. This meant the stream at her feet was running to the south, where it should join the River Mareys.

“I think we might be going the right way,” said Elenn to Gawaine, “more or less.”

Gawaine chirped back enthusiastically.

“You’re awfully optimistic,” said Elenn. She sighed. She looked down at herself. Her beautiful scarlet kirtle with the yellow flowers was muddied and torn, as was her smock. Her hands and arms were covered with angry red scratches. Her feet were blistered and sore. She couldn’t see her face, but she could feel the tangles in her hair and imagine how she looked.

“If I can’t take care of myself,” she whispered to Gawaine, “how can I take care of the Falarica?” She wiped her eyes again. “How can I keep my promise?”

Gawaine cocked his head and looked at her, then he hopped off his perch and pecked around at the bottom of his cage. Finding nothing edible there, he began picking his own feathers.

“Oh, you’re hungry, poor thing,” said Elenn. “And here I am, thinking of myself. What kind of lady am I?”

Before things had gone bad, the woodsman’s boy had come by every few weeks with bird seed to sell or trade. When he disappeared, Old Rodbert had done his best to make up the difference—until he left as well. Nowadays, Gawaine mostly foraged for his own food, tethered to Elenn with a cord of fine silk.

Gawaine chirped in eager anticipation, but Elenn could not find the cord. She wondered briefly if she had left it on the tub-cart, or if it had fallen somewhere in the woods as she walked, but then dismissed this as unknowable and unhelpful. Elenn looked down at her clothes again, searching for anything that would serve as a suitable makeshift bird tether. The drawstring she used to lace up her kirtle, but it seemed like too much trouble to remove.

“Perfect stands between us and good,” Elenn recited. Scowling, she pulled out the drawstring and attempted to tie the string around his leg. The bird was not in a cooperative mood, though, and the string was too thick for his tiny leg.

Reaching through the bars of the cage, Elenn stroked his beak. “Be still, now. If I can’t tie this on you, I can’t let you out, and then you can’t eat.”

It was no use. Gawaine pecked at her fingers defiantly and refused to be tethered.

“Fine, then,” said Elenn. “Just stay close, please.” She opened the cage and let Gawaine hop out. Stretching his wings, he sang out, and then flew away and disappeared into the trees.

Elenn ran after him, to no avail. “Oh, no! Come back!” The forest swallowed up her cries, just as it had swallowed up her beloved little finch.

She sank down onto the bank of the stream, and tossed a handful of pebbles into the water. “Probably just wanted to go home,” she murmured, wiping away yet another useless tear with the back of her hand. “Me, too.”

“You want your bird back, lassie?” said Leif, stepping out from behind a nearby tree. “I can get him for you.” He smiled, but the blood on his clothing made him look sinister.

“No,” said Elenn, rising to her feet. “He’s gone.”

“Oh, aye, I’m great with snares,” insisted Leif. “My brothers and I used to catch wee songbirds all the time back on Garlic Island. Larks, warblers, goldcrests, bluetits, even parrot finches like your friend.”

He strode down to the stream bank. Elenn stepped back to make room for him. As he got close, she smelled ale on his breath. He had taken the cask from the tub-cart after they pushed it into the woods, and had been helping himself last night. And this morning, apparently.

“Pretty little things, they were,” said Leif. “But we never kept them caged long. All the fun’s in the catching.” He smiled wolfishly. He pantomimed snatching a bird in his hand, and laughed uproariously.

“Thank you,” said Elenn, stepping back, “but I set Gawaine free on purpose. It wasn’t easy carrying his cage. And feeding him this morning was difficult. I thought it would be for the best this way.”

“All for the best,” repeated Leif, moving in closer. He glanced down at her unlaced kirtle. “Missing something, aren’t you?”

Elenn clutched at her kirtle to keep his greedy eyes from spying the chain holding her mother’s gold ring—or anything else. “I think you should go,” she said, trying to get around him.

“Just got here,” murmured Leif, continuing to step in closer, maneuvering to cut off her retreat.

“Then perhaps I should go,” said Elenn. “Thank you for your offer.” Stepping backward, she stumbled over a root and fell back against a tree.

“Ain’t heard my best offer yet,” Leif breathed, setting a thick arm on the tree to either side of her. He smiled and leaned in close, his lips slightly parted.

Elenn ducked out of this unwanted embrace and stepped away from the tree. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I must go.”

Suddenly, Elenn was caught roughly from behind by a muscular arm seizing her around the waist. She cried out, but Leif clapped a thick hand over her mouth and muffled her scream.

“Don’t fly away, pretty bird,” Leif chuckled.

Elenn struggled, trying to slip out of his grasp and run, but Leif lifted her up off the ground and then flung her to the mossy bank of the stream, knocking the wind out of her. Leif came down on top of her, pinning her to the ground.

“Let me go,” Elenn shouted, trying to rise.

“Not until you sing for me,” Leif said. “And don’t tell me you don’t know how.”

Elenn screamed as loud as she could and slapped his face.

Leif took her hands and laughed coarsely. “Oh, aye, you sing all right. Gods, you’re loud as a dirty little wren.”

Elenn spat in his face, and Leif belted her so hard she saw stars.

“Enough of that,” Leif said.

Leif used one massive arm to hold her down, his meaty hand turning her face away toward the stream so she could no longer spit. Elenn felt his other hand fumbling for her skirts. She kicked, trying to knee him in the groin, but she couldn’t get one of her legs between his. She screamed.

Suddenly, Elenn felt Leif’s terrible weight lifting. His hand no longer pushed her face into the mud. Looking up, she saw Aedin standing behind Leif, holding a dagger to his throat.

“Leave her,” said Aedin.

Leif’s face split into a ragged grin. “Sorry, friend. Didn’t know you had your eye on her,” he said.

“I said, leave her!” shouted Aedin, pressing the dagger close enough that a ribbon of red blood appeared on Leif’s throat.

“All right then,” said Leif, rising awkwardly. “Go first, if it means that much to you. Just leave a little fight in her for me.”

As Leif found his feet, Aedin shoved him away hard. He looked down at Elenn, and for an instant, her heart sank. But it was pity, not lust, she saw in his eyes.

“Sorry,” Aedin said, extending a hand to help her rise.

She wanted to take his hand, but instead, Elenn drew her knees up to her chest and began to sob. Her whole body was shaking.

“You’re a real villain, Leif Maulduin,” growled Aedin.

“And you’re no stinking fun,” said Leif. “If you’re not going to take her yourself, why couldn’t you have given me five minutes?”

“Fun?” cried Aedin incredulously. “She look like she was having fun to you?”

“They’re all the same,” muttered Leif. “Every lousy one of them fights it before, and comes begging for more after. This one, too. After the tears were gone, she’d have been fawning over me for weeks, ’til I got sick of it and left her somewhere.”

At this, Elenn launched herself at Leif in a mad frenzy, raining furious blows on him from all sides, including a vicious kick to the crotch that left him largely incapable of defending himself. Aedin quickly wrenched her off, but Elenn took satisfaction in hearing Leif howling in pain, and seeing the bloody tracks of her nails across his cheek, where she had nearly gouged his left eye.

“You owe me for that, lass,” said Leif, with difficulty.

“I owe you, all right!” shouted Elenn, trying to break free of Aedin. “Come over here and I’ll pay you back properly.”

Leif straightened up and advanced toward her, breathing heavily, his face red with anger.

Aedin released Elenn, and pushed her aside so he could stand between them. He held the dagger a little above waist height, and turned it slowly so it shone in the morning light. Leif stopped, and eyed the blade.

“That’s the end,” said Aedin. “End of this.”

Elenn stepped forward.

“Leave it, woman!” cried Aedin, half turning.

Elenn stepped back. “You’re right,” she said. “Better not to sink to his level.”

“Oh, don’t try feeding us that cockalayne again,” said Leif, “about you bringing supplies to the Leodrine bloody Sisters.”

“We were!” said Elenn indignantly.

“You’re a thieving little strumpet,” shouted Leif. “You’re a serving girl who ran off with her lady’s treasures, just like every other wench in this country.” He stepped forward menacingly, his hands clenched into fists.

Aedin raised his dagger slightly. “Won’t say it again, Leif.”

“After all we’ve been through,” said Leif, “you take some giglet’s part over me?”

Aedin said nothing, and kept his dagger held at the ready.

After a moment, Leif laughed. “We were going to be partners, you and me. The Riverlands are aflame, and there’s plenty of traitors still to punish in the West, or Renonia. Plenty of plunder, ours for the taking.” He stopped and looked over Elenn. “Aye, and women, too.”

Aedin looked down at the blade he held. “Big plans were all yours. Got enough blood on my hands.” He sheathed the dagger.

“What’ll you do, Aedin?” asked Leif caustically. “You going to go back to Heortigsport and work the docks? Or maybe stay here, herd some sheep?”

“My father herded sheep,” said Aedin.

“So did mine,” said Leif, “and the happiest day of his life was the one the poor fool died on.”

Aedin said nothing.

“Well,” said Leif, “if we’re to part, let it be in friendship.” He held out his hand, grinning broadly.

Aedin hesitated and then stepped up and extended his hand.

They clasped forearms, and as they did, the larger man pulled Aedin in close. As his face appeared over Aedin’s shoulder, it was dark with anger.

“No stinking dobber holds a blade to my throat,” Leif whispered loudly, his face next to Aedin’s ear, “not even you.”

Elenn listened for Aedin’s reply, but she heard nothing, and his back was to her.

After a moment, Leif said, “I’ll not forget.”

Aedin nodded. And then, as quickly as it had come, the moment was past and Leif was grinning again. The two men broke their embrace.

Leif gave Elenn a wink. “I’ll see you another time, milady,” he said.

“I’ll see you in the abyss,” said Elenn fiercely.

“Sure enough,” said Leif, “but not today.”

***

Chapter Thirteen

Aedin cursed himself silently as Leif strode away from the stream. How had the situation got so far out of control? The man was a pig and a liar, but he was a stout fighter and an excellent woodsman. Leif had not been a friend exactly, but their interests had been aligned. Now he was an enemy, and Aedin would have to watch his back. Leif held grudges.

As he disappeared into the trees, Leif whistled and the horse whickered back. Another terrible loss. And for what? A girl, who would only slow him down. They should have left her on the road for the next patrol. It hardly could have turned out worse.

“Mongrel cur,” said Elenn, glaring angrily in Leif’s direction. The girl was a mess—her kirtle torn and stained, the drawstring missing, her hair tangled and her face pale.

It was just as well she was so young and sheltered, Aedin thought. A more experienced woman might have wondered if Aedin could have been ignorant of his traveling companion’s proclivities. A more suspicious woman might have asked where Aedin had gone and where he had come from. A more cynical woman might have speculated that a gallant rescue from a vicious assault would be one way a man could get a young girl to trust and depend on him.

“Easy to hate him,” said Aedin, “but Leif wasn’t always this way. Country’s had nothing but war for twenty years or more. Changes a man. Makes him do things. Bad things.” He turned away. Sometimes it even made men take terrible risks with other people’s lives.

“I don’t care what happened to him,” shot Elenn. “Nothing—not war, or anything else—excuses what happened to me.”

“No,” said Aedin. “Really doesn’t.” He pulled the sheathed dagger from his belt, and bounced it in his palm. What if Leif hadn’t backed down? Could he have killed him? Aedin shook his head. He really hadn’t thought things with Leif could have gone so badly, so quickly.

Turning back to Elenn, Aedin offered her the weapon.

“Yours,” he said, “if you want it.”

Elenn eyed it, but did not reach for it.

“Got a sword,” said Aedin, tugging on the eagle-headed pommel of the saber strapped to his back, “so I don’t need it. Might want to protect yourself.”

“That… belonged to one of the Sithians,” said Elenn, “didn’t it?”

Aedin nodded. He held the dagger out for her again. “Here. Take it. I never hold on to a blade for long anyway.”

Elenn accepted it gingerly, turning it over in her hands. It had dried blood on the sheath. “Which one?” she asked. “Tuliyek? That was the name of the one with the beard, I think. The mean one.”

“Other one,” said Aedin, adjusting the straps on the rude harness he had rigged to hold the long Sithian cavalry saber and scabbard on his back. It was rigged to fit a shorter, rounder man, and he still hadn’t got it to feel comfortable. “The blond.”

“Nurzod,” said Elenn sadly. “Poor thing. He didn’t seem as bad.” She sighed.

Aedin shrugged his shoulders, testing the fit of the harness. It was better, but it still didn’t feel quite right. Probably because he wore it over the Sithian’s quilted jack, which fit even worse and was more difficult to adjust.

“It just seems so wrong,” Elenn continued, “to have left them there without a proper burial.” She stepped over to the stream, and began washing the dagger and sheath clean. On the bank beside her, Aedin could see where her struggle with Leif had left gouges in the mud and the moss.

Elenn finished washing it and shook it free of moisture. After a brief search, she found a bit of her kirtle that wasn’t stained with blood, or grass, or dirt, and she carefully dried the dagger.

“Sorry, Elenn,” said Aedin.

Elenn looked up at him. With a slight frown, she stood, and tucked the sheathed weapon away in her belt.

“For your aunt’s death,” Aedin added. “For… everything. What’s happened to you… No one deserves this.”

She nodded and looked away.

Aedin watched her carefully. He needed to know if it was safe to leave her behind, or if she would send someone after him to avenge her for what she had suffered. To Aedin’s relief, he saw in Elenn’s face only sorrow, loss, and grief. There was no sign that she laid the blame for her aunt’s death, or the horrors of the morning, at his feet—although of course he would have to keep an eye on her.

“Isn’t safe,” Aedin said, “living rough like this. Not good for a girl like you.” He smiled, sadly. “Let’s get you out of this wicked world, back where you belong.”

“Thank you,” said Elenn quietly. Her eyes glistened with tears, and with a gratitude so sincere that Aedin could not help but smile. A grateful woman was not a woman who would send soldiers looking for him. For Leif, perhaps—but the man had only himself to thank for that.

“Saw signs of shepherds to the north,” said Aedin, indicating the direction with his head, “and woodsmen. Not completely sure of where we are. Not far from a settlement of some kind. Most Riverlanders are hospitable folk. They’ll take good care of you.”

Elenn hesitated.

“Or if you like,” said Aedin, “I can take you east to Butcher’s Creek.” He squinted up at the sun. “Be there by noon. Find the River Mareys or the road. Either way, you’ll find someone to take you wherever you want to go.”

“I want to go east,” said Elenn.

Aedin smiled. He would be rid of her in a matter of hours. And a few days east of here, he had stashed away some weapons and things that would have him back on his feet again in no time. Perhaps his luck was beginning to change.

“East, then,” Aedin said. “Let’s gather up your things.” He himself was already wearing the Sithian’s sword and the quilted jack, so he had nothing to retrieve. He strode briskly back toward the site of their rude camp, with Elenn following behind him.

“I hope your friend didn’t take all the food,” said Elenn.

“Being roped together doesn’t make us friends,” said Aedin. “But I’m sure he left us a little. Enough to get us to Butcher’s Creek.”

“Well, I’m not stopping at Butcher’s Creek,” said Elenn. “I need to get to Ghel.”

Aedin stopped and turned to face her. “Ghel? Where in Ghel?”

“The Leode,” said Elenn. She resumed walking, taking the lead.

“Week’s journey at least,” muttered Aedin. “Maybe less if you cross through dragon country. Won’t find many parties headed that way. Too dangerous.”

The lands where the dragon most frequently hunted were largely abandoned by law-abiding folk. But desperate men and outlaws sometimes risked it, as Aedin well knew. His own stash was more than twenty miles into dragon country.

“Plenty of folk headed to Ghel the long way, around the Lough,” Aedin continued. “Once we get you to the road, you’ll find some group of pilgrims to travel with. Train of merchant wagons, maybe. Some fine caravans travel that road.”

It was just such a caravan that Aedin and Leif had been trying to ambush when they had been captured by Vitalion soldiers three days before. Aedin rubbed his wrists, which were still raw and sore from the ropes.

“No,” said Elenn, marching purposefully ahead of him through the trees. “I’m not going to sit on the side of the road and hope to find a party headed my way. My task is too important for that.”

Aedin did not respond. He hoped he was wrong, but it sounded like the girl didn’t want to part ways.

“What I need is a guide,” said Elenn. “Someone who can take me all the way to Ghel. Someone who has demonstrated his trustworthiness.”

Aedin stopped in his tracks, gritting his teeth. He was right. The girl was working her way up to asking him to take her to the Leode. He wanted no part of her fool’s errand. His plan to convince her of his good intentions seemed to have succeeded rather catastrophically.

After walking confidently twenty paces further on her own, Elenn also stopped. “Which way is the camp?”

“Left,” he called. “Few paces and you’ll see it.”

“Well,” Elenn said, spinning to face him with a look of triumph. “It seems there is at least one person here who can find his way through the forest.”

Aedin tucked in his chin to hide his glower and walked to rejoin her. “Know this area a bit. Still, better off attaching yourself to a large caravan,” he said. “Trust me.”

“I do,” said Elenn, with a sly hint of a smile.

Aedin scowled again. “I said already, best way to Ghel is the road,” he said gruffly. “Takes you north around the Lough, but it’s safe. Vitalion soldiers and auxiliaries patrol it regularly.”

He glanced at Elenn, who was eyeing his garb—the breeches, boots, and quilted jack he had stolen from the dead Sithian. “I’m not a man you’ll want with you on the road. I’m wanted. They’ll be after me for true now, since I escaped and left two bodies behind.”

Elenn turned away and said nothing. But in the wordless whisper of her breath, Aedin could almost hear her correction: “Three.”

In silence, they reached the site of their rude camp. It was a disaster. Leif had not only taken the horse, he had taken all the strong drink and rich food they had pillaged from Elenn’s tub cart.

Shaking his head, Aedin looked to see what food and necessities Leif had left them. Elenn gathered what remained of her things, which had been scattered all around the clearing. Some had been ground into the dirt.

Aedin took a moment to follow the tracks of the horse. Leif had made no attempt to hide them, and they led south and west, toward Anondea. Aedin grimaced. Was it a warning? A bluff? A double bluff? Aedin kicked the dirt and walked back to the clearing.

Elenn stood ready, a leather sack thrown over her shoulder. At her feet was her small chest, which seemed to have been badly battered. To Aedin’s eye, it looked to have been kicked by a horse.

Aedin picked up the chest without a word. The two of them turned their faces to the morning sun and began walking east.

***