The Dragon Society (Obsidian Chronicles Book 2) (39 page)

BOOK: The Dragon Society (Obsidian Chronicles Book 2)
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And what harm could such rumors do him? All would blow over soon enough.

"Thank you," he said. Stammer curtsied, and hesitated.

"You may go now," Arlian said, "or stay, if you've more to tell me. And feel free to come to me as you have tonight should you learn or remember anything else you think might interest me."

Stammer said, "Thank you, my lord," then snatched open the door and vanished.

Arlian stared after her, thinking.

The rumors were harmless in themselves, but he wondered whether a conspiracy might be forming in opposition to him. Opal hated him for refusing to bring her dragon venom, and could be expected to speak ill of him; Pulzera had chosen to side with the dragons Arlian had sworn to destroy, so her enmity was also unsurprising. Hardior thought that if Arlian were gone, the dragons would leave Manfort alone. Arlian had thought he and Hardior were natural allies, but it had become very plain that Hardior did not agree.

As for Zaner and Ticker, their motives were less clear, but Arlian supposed they were in agreement with either Pulzera or Hardior.

And one name was, he realized, conspicuous by its absence; Stammer had not mentioned Toribor's household as a source of rumors. Had this been an oversight? Or did her web of informants perhaps not extend into that particular domicile?

Arlian frowned, and stepped out into the corridor.

He spotted a footman, and beckoned to him; the youth trotted quickly over to his master.

"Send word to Lady Rime that I wish to speak to her at her earliest convenience," he said. "I would be glad to wait upon her at her home, or to have her as my guest, whichever would please her more."

The footman bowed. "Yes, my lord," he said. He hesitated for an instant, then turned and hurried away.

Arlian watched him go, and frowned.

Rime was the only living member of the Dragon Society he trusted—and
that
was a sorry commentary on his situation.

It was hardly a surprise, though. He had come to Manfort seeking revenge, not companionship, and had not gone out of his way to make the acquaintance of his fellow dragonhearts—and that was quite aside from having killed some of them, and planning to kill the rest.

He could have gone to the Society's hall and talked to whoever he found there, but somehow he suspected that would produce anger and evasion, rather than honesty—and really, he supposed he could not blame anyone for such hostility when he had openly admitted that he had considered slaughtering the lot of them.

But he did not want to kill them
now.

Rime did not seem troubled by his murderous intent, in any case, and perhaps she would be able to shed some light on what was happening among the members of die Dragon Society.

The following morning Rime arrived in time to share Arlian's midday meal, hobbling on her wooden leg, her legbone clutched tight in her right hand.

At table they discussed Arlian's upcoming journey, and Arlian made it plain that Rime was welcome to accompany him, if she chose, as she had in his pursuit of Enziet.

"No, thank you," she said. "Last time you were pursuing business that directly concerned us all." She glanced at the servants, and did not specify which "us"

she referred to, but Arlian understood her to mean the Dragon Society. "This time you are traveling on your own business, and matters of considerable interest are being discussed here in Manfort."

'True enough," Arlian said. "And these matters you mention are of some interest to me, as well. I would be glad to hear you speak of them."

"Perhaps later," Rime replied, with another glance at the footmen bringing in platters of meat.

Arlian nodded.

After they had eaten, Rime, Arlian. and Black retired to the study, where Rime settled quickly into a

chair and Black leaned against a wall. Arlian sent the servants away and closed the doors securely.

"Now," he said, turning to face his guest, "tell me, if you would, what is happening among the dragonhearts."

Rime glanced at Black, who stared back impas-sively.

"I have promised Black I would keep no more secrets from him," Arlian said, crossing to his desk.

"I see," Rime said, tapping her bone against the palm of her left hand. "
I
have made no such promise."

"Indeed you have not—but anything you might tell me I would share with Black in any case, so I have chosen to eliminate a step in the process. If there is anything you cannot bear revealing to him, then do not tell it to me, now or ever." He pulled out his own chair and sat down. "But surely there must be
something
you can tell us."

"Fair enough. Arlian, you have thrown the Society into chaos such as I have never seen before."

"I had that impression," Arlian said.

"They argue constantly. In the past I could walk into the hall at almost any time and find it quiet, no matter what might be happening in the world outside; now the city is calm, but I cannot set foot through the door there without hearing voices raised in anger.

When you first came to us I found your presence a break in the tedium; with your open avowal of vengeance against five of us, I thought you'd brought a little life to a virtual tomb. Your honesty was refresh-ing. You stirred up Belly and Nail, and I thought it was all quite amusing—to see Belly stamping about angrily, or others recoiling in horror from your intentions toward Enziet." She sighed. "I'm afraid the novelty has worn off. Now I'm weary of anger and horror and constant bickering."

"I'm sorry," Arlian said.

She waggled her bone at him. "Don't be. They dragged the truth out of you by calling that hearing."

"I am not claiming responsibility for the dispute, my lady, merely expressing regret that it troubles you."

She shrugged. "I can handle trouble."

"I'm sure you can," Arlian said. "As can I—but it is always easier if I know what trouble to expect. I have heard some of the rumors circulating in the city, blam-ing me for every dragonheart's death for the past two years and accusing me of plotting treason against the Duke, but I have not heard the nature of the arguments within the Society, nor who is on which side."

"There are certainly plenty of sides to choose from,"

Rime said. Arlian waited for her to continue, but she merely tapped her bone against her palm.

"I take it Pulzera still thinks we should pledge ourselves to serve the dragons, and side with them in the event of renewed war?" he asked at last.

"Oh, yes," Rime said. "And at least a dozen others agree with her. Alas, they would appear to be the largest single faction, and Shatter, the eldest, is one of them, and has therefore become their leader."

Arlian grimaced. "Shatter? He
fought
the dragons and their servants, centuries ago, didn't he?"

"Indeed. But he is hardly the first person to ever reconsider his previous actions, Arlian."

"I see. And the others?"

"Hardior has taken a 'wait-and-see' attitude toward the dragons, or at least so he claims, but he has come out strongly in favor of removing you from the city,"

Rime continued. "He seems to feel you are too unpredictable and uncontrollable; your refusal to finish the duel convinced him that you cannot be trusted at all.

He also points out that any grudge the dragons may hold would be against
you,
rather than the Society as a whole, and that therefore you are a threat—if the drag-mis do come to Manfort, it will be to kill
you,
bat the rest of as may well suffer as a result. He and Lady Pulzera are substantially in agreement on that."

"So I suspected," Ariian said

Rime nodded. "He further argues that we need to settle our differences and act as a unified group if we are to maintain our position of power in the Lands of Man, and that that will never be possible while you live. I have the impression that he doesn't really believe die dragons will ever threaten Manfort, and expects the whole affair to blow over once you are eliminated."

"I'm disappointed," Ariian said. "I had hoped for better from him."

"He and Pulzera disagree on some things—Pulzera and Shatter and their party believe that you have indeed ended the peace, and we should resign ourselves to serving the dragons, which makes you, personally, largely irrelevant. Hardior, on the other hand, believes that if you are removed, then the dragons will have no cause to attack us, and will be content to return to the behavior they have displayed these past several centuries. Ticker and Zaner both support Hardior in this—

but I don't think anyone else does."

Ariian nodded. That was not particularly surprising, really.

"Perhaps seven or eight people, led by Lord Voriam, think we should name you master of the Dragon Society and do whatever you say," Rime said. 'They maintain that as Enziet's heir and die only one of us to communicate direcdy with the dragons, you are clearly the chosen of Fate. They argue about what happened when you and Belly fought, whether you decided to spare Belly's life, or that your own could not be thrown away so lightly before your great task is complete. They have spoken of sending you an emis-mry, but when last I listened they had not yet agreed on how best to approach you, or whether they should wait until they have won over more of the membership."

"That's... um."

Arlian had started to say the idea of naming him master was ridiculous, but in fact it would certainly simplify matters in many ways. Instead he asked, "What about Toribor? I suppose he's sided with Hardior?"

"Belly? No. His faction, like Shatter's, maintains that you are simply irrelevant, now that your secrets are known. However, they maintain that Shatter and Pulzera are traitors, and that we should be preparing to fight the dragons by whatever means come to hand. He has spoken of buying obsidian weapons from you, or making his own, and of seeking out the caverns where the dragons sleep—but as yet he has not acted. I think he can't quite bring himself to speak to you."

"Oh," Arlian said.

"He's been speaking to the Duke, though," Rime continued. "I believe he's trying to convince His Grace to restore the city's fortifications to their proper condition and prepare for war with the dragons. Really, Arlian, it's quite amazing—for centuries Belly took no interest in politics, but now he's spending every moment he can at the Citadel." She smiled crookedly. "I don't know what will happen if the dragons don't come. I suppose that would discredit Belly, and make a prophet of Hardior."

"Is Belly trying to displace Hardior at the Duke's ear, then?"

"Not replace, but supplement," Rime said. "Belly takes no interest in anything
but
defense against the dragons, and that's a subject Hardior avoids."

"Does he?" Arlian asked, startled.

"Oh, yes. As I said, Hardior doesn't seem to believe the dragons will ever come, and he does not care to choose sides between dragon and human—he doesn't think he'll ever need to make a firm decision, and he knows that if he does he will estrange himself from half the Society. You and Pulzera have split it down the middle, An—I don't think the rift will ever heal."

For a moment Rime and Arlian gazed silently at one another, then Arlian said, "Well, one way or another, the Dragon Society must be destroyed eventually, if we are to avoid inflicting dozens of eager young dragons upon the world. Splitting it now may be a start."

"Oh. absolutely. It's a cancer at the heart of the Lands of Man, and it's past time it was cut out. We have been manipulating humanity for centuries, and look at the world we've built—a world of cruelty and slavery, where women like your guests, like my Rose, are treated as playthings or less, to be discarded at a whim. We live in a city of hard stone, as hard as our poisoned hearts."

Black shifted uneasily. He cleared his throat. Rime looked at him inquiringly.

"Your Rose?" Black asked.

"My several-times-great granddaughter," Rime explained. "She was one of the women in the House of the Six Lords. Lord Enziet had killed most of her family and enslaved her, and eventually had her murdered because sixteen was not evenly divisible by six."

Black stared at her for a moment, then said, "Oh."

"I explained this to Arlian in the wagon, on the way to Cork Tree," Rime said. "You were driving; I had thought you would have overheard."

"My attention was elsewhere," Black replied.

"And you never asked Enziet for her life?" Arlian asked, although he already knew the answer. "Or made any attempt to help her, or punish Enziet?"

"No," Rime said.

Arlian exchanged a glance with Black, then said,

"So you feel that the Dragon Society deserves to die."

"Yes, I do," Rime said.

"And if I were to ask you and Lord Voriam and his faction to turn on the others and kill them all, would you?"

Rime smiled coldly at him.

"No," she said, "I wouldn't—but I think some of Voriam's friends would, and I would watch the slaughter without making any move to stop you. I would lift my own chin to the knife when the time came for you to slit my throat, but I cannot bring myself to wield the blade."

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