Blood of Dragons, Page 49

  ‘Harsh,’ Brashen said quietly.

  ‘Chalcedean,’ Leftrin replied. He shrugged. ‘I don’t think she could establish order there any other way. There is still restlessness in Chalced, especially in the outlying provinces, but I don’t think it will reach civil war, as some said. Duchess Chassim seems to be trying for other alliances as well. ’

  Alise broke in with, ‘We heard an extraordinary rumour that the new duchess was actually negotiating a truce between the Chalced States and the Six Duchies region of Shoaks. ’

  ‘Preposterous,’ Althea said. ‘No one remembers a time when those two countries weren’t warring. ’

  ‘So preposterous, it’s probably true,’ Brashen offered. All of them fell silent for a moment, considering the changes.

  ‘Selden,’ Althea abruptly said. She looked directly at Alise. ‘How is he? Really?’

  Alise looked for a long moment at Leftrin, decided that they were owed honesty, and met Althea’s gaze. ‘You are his family. You need to know. He is scarred, and not just physically. The Duke was literally devouring him. Sucking the blood right out of his veins. The marks on his arms were still visible weeks after Tintaglia brought him back to Kelsingra. When first I saw him, I could not believe he was standing upright by himself; he was so thin and his face so drawn. ’

  Althea went pale. ‘We’d heard rumours. Sweet Sa. Little Selden. I think of him, and I see him always as a noisy little fellow of seven or eight. But we heard other rumours, ones that link him with the Duchess of Chalced? They made no sense to us!’

  ‘They were prisoners together,’ Alise confirmed. ‘And they seem to have formed an attachment. More than that, I don’t know, so I won’t gossip. Except to say that I know some have been critical that the dragons and Kelsingra have backed the young Duchess of Chalced in taking over rule of her country. They say we should have made Chalced completely subservient. But if not for the efforts of the Duchess Chassim, Selden would have died there. From what he tells us, her imprisonment was worse than his and for years longer. Given all she did for him, as an Elderling and as Tintaglia’s Singer, those who negotiated the terms felt that putting her in power would be the swiftest path to peace in the region. ’

  Brashen scratched his chin and then smiled at Althea. ‘Changing history seems to run in your family. First Wintrow and Malta, now Selden. ’ He took a sip of his tea.

  Paragon spoke up, his voice wry. ‘So fortunate for you that you married the sane, responsible female in the family. ’

  Brashen choked. Althea slapped him on the back, perhaps a trifle harder than she needed to. She spoke through his choking laughter. ‘But Selden is recovering?’

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  ‘Quite remarkably, given all he endured, and not just at the hands of the Duke of Chalced. Tintaglia has hinted that some of his illness was simply due to his unsupervised growth. He was young when she Changed him, and away for quite a time, so not all was right inside his body—’

  ‘That is dragons’ business!’ Paragon interrupted indignantly.

  ‘That is family business. Selden is my nephew, Paragon, as well as Tintaglia’s Elderling. I have a right to know how he progresses, and therefore, so do you! And you should care as much as I do. ’

  The rebuke from Althea subdued the ship. Paragon’s face grew thoughtful. He lowered his voice. ‘Did not they think to treat him with Silver?’

  Alise stared at him for a moment, shocked that he would speak such a secret aloud. Then she decided that if it was dragons’ business, then he had the right to know the whole of it. ‘The knowledge of how to do that is lost to us,’ Alise told him. ‘But his dragon oversees him daily. His outer injuries have healed. He walks among us, and eats well, and sings to Tintaglia once more. And I suspect that you will see him again, down this way. He desires to visit not only the Khuprus family in Trehaug, but also his mother in Bingtown. And eventually to return to Chalced and the Duchess. ’

  ‘I would not allow that, were I Tintaglia,’ Paragon offered.

  ‘She was instrumental in keeping him alive when her father’s treatment of him would have otherwise killed him. It’s a very long story, Paragon. There is a great deal more than what I have told you. ’

  ‘But tonight, you will return to tell it to us?’ the ship suggested.

  Leftrin stood and walked to the side. Alise followed him. He looked down on the deck of his own ship. Hennesey looked up at him unhappily and gestured at the animals penned on the aft deck of the barge. Clef was grinning and describing something to a horrified Skelly. Boy-o sat on Tarman’s railings, swinging his heels and laughing. Leftrin glanced over at Alise. ‘We should get under way. But I think we can stay until morning. ’

  ‘There has to be a better way to house these birds,’ Sedric complained. He ducked as one of the message birds took sudden unreasonable fear and leapt from its perch to flap crazily past his head. It alighted on one of the nesting boxes fastened to the wall.

  The structure was one of the smaller, more dilapidated buildings near the river’s edge. Since it was already in poor condition, the keepers had decided that keeping pigeons in it could scarcely do it more harm. Carson scowled at the musty straw, thick with bird droppings, that floored the small house where they had confined their little flock of pigeons. ‘Or a better way to send messages between here and the rest of the world,’ he countered. ‘I think we were too hasty in asking for messenger birds. Especially since none of us know much about them. ’ He squinted at the birds. ‘Which one just came in?’

  ‘They all look alike to me,’ Sedric replied. ‘But … this is the only one with a message tube tied to its leg. Come here, bird. I won’t hurt you. Come here. ’

  He moved slowly, his reaching hands framing the bird. It rocked from foot to foot on its perch but before it could decide to take flight, Sedric gently closed his hands on it. ‘There. Not so bad, is it? Not so terrible. No one wants to eat you. We just want the message tube. ’ He held the struggling bird’s wings smooth to its body, offering it feet-first to Carson.

  ‘Just a moment, just a moment … this string is so fine. It’s hard to find … ah, there’s the end. And here we have it. You can let him go. ’

  Sedric held the bird a moment longer, soothing it and smoothing its feathers, before setting it back on its perch. The animal recovered almost immediately, and began greeting his mate with a cooing, bobbing dance. Sedric followed Carson outside into the sunlight.

  ‘Who’s it from? Leftrin? Are they delayed in Trehaug?’

  ‘I’m still trying to get it open. Wait a moment. The cap’s off but the little paper won’t come out. Here. You try. ’ The hunter passed the small tube to the curious Sedric and smiled as he watched him eagerly tap and shake the tube until the edge of the paper showed.

  Sedric coaxed out the tiny roll and opened it. His brows went up in surprise as he read, and then a furrow formed between them. He let the paper coil in his hands.

  ‘What is it? Bad news?’

  Sedric rubbed his face. ‘No. Just a bit of a surprise for me. I recognized the handwriting. It’s a note from Wollom Courser. And it’s actually addressed to me. He’s an old friend from Bingtown. One of Hest’s circle. ’

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  ‘Oh?’ Carson’s voice was slightly cooler.

  ‘They’ve raised a substantial reward for anyone who can send them news of what’s become of Hest. Wollom adds his own plea. Evidently he thinks that perhaps Hest is hiding here with me, avoiding his old life and his family’s disgrace and living well in Kelsingra. ’ His gaze met Carson’s.

  The big man turned up an empty hand. ‘No one saw him again after that day. I don’t know, Sedric. I’ve wondered about it more than once, but I just don’t know what became of him. We left him there in the tower. You’ve said he wasn’t a hunter or a fisherman. No food has gone missing. No one, keeper or dragon, has seen him. We’ve told them that. ’

  Sedric’
s hand closed on the paper, crumpling it. ‘You don’t know what became of him. And I don’t care. ’ He tossed the message to the ground and the wind off the river gave it a small push. Carson looked at it for a moment, and then put his arm across Sedric’s shoulder.

  ‘The pigeons are all right for now,’ he said. ‘But what we should give some thought to is where we want to house the chickens. ’ The summer sunlight glinted on the two Elderlings as they turned away from the river and walked up into Kelsingra.

  ‘What do you think is beyond the foothills?’

  ‘More foothills. ’ Tats panted. ‘Then mountains. ’

  They had paused to catch their breath and drink from their water-skin. The day was warm. Summer was growing strong. Thymara had freed her wings from her tunic and held them half-open to cool herself. Tats and Thymara had been climbing steadily since morning. They both carried their bows, but Thymara was more interested in exploration than hunting today. She turned and looked down over the green-flanked hills to the city below them. Most of it remained still and uninhabited, but there was activity down near the docks. The crew of the White Serpent had taken her out on the river. The oars moved evenly as the ship moved against the current. The wind carried the faint shouts of Rachard as he called the stroke-beat to them. The former slave was the teacher now, and seemed to be adapting well to his new role.

  ‘Look. ’ Thymara pointed in a different direction. ‘Sedric’s trees. The ones he and Carson dug up and moved to the big pots on the Square of the Dragons? You can actually see the leaves on them from here. They almost look like trees now instead of sticks. ’

  A dragon trumpet, a taunting challenge, turned Thymara’s eyes to the clear blue sky above. ‘Again?’ she groaned aloud.

  ‘Apparently,’ Tats said with vast approval. He swivelled his head. ‘Where is he?’

  Tintaglia was overhead. As they watched, she spiralled upward, ever higher. She trumpeted again, and they heard it answered from the east. They both turned to watch Kalo coming. This was not the leisurely circling of a dragon seeking game, nor the diving fall of a dragon strike. His long powerful wings drove him forward and upward. He looked black against the blue of the sky, except that each down-stroke briefly bared the silver tips of his wings. His long tail snaked and lashed behind him as he flew.

  Tintaglia was a glittering blue set of wings in the sky. She hung, circling effortlessly. Her mocking call reached them clearly.

  Tats scanned the rest of the sky. ‘I don’t see IceFyre this time. ’

  ‘That last battle was pretty savage. Alise told me that from what she learned when she first studied dragons from scrolls and records, the males seldom did serious injury to one another in mating battles. ’

  ‘I don’t think Kalo read the same scrolls she did. I think that after their last clash, IceFyre conceded. Probably went off to kill something big, eat it and sleep it off. ’ Tats nodded to himself. ‘The better dragon won. I’m glad Kalo got a mate. ’

  Thymara corked the water-skin. ‘Let’s follow that cleft up to the cliffs. I want to look at them and see how hard they’d be to climb. ’

  Tats stood staring upward. Kalo’s deep frustrated roars were answering Tintaglia’s clear trumpeting. ‘Don’t you want to watch?’ he teased her.

  ‘Thank you, but half a dozen times was enough. Can’t they be done with it for the day?’

  ‘I think they’re enjoying it. Wait. What’s that?’

  Something had caught his attention in a different quadrant of the sky. Thymara strained her eyes. ‘Sintara. But what’s she doing?’

  The younger blue queen was moving faster than Thymara had ever seen her fly. Arrow straight she flew. Then as golden Mercor crested the ridge behind them, Thymara heard Sintara utter the same challenging trumpet that she had first heard from Tintaglia. Scarlet Baliper and orange Dortean suddenly rose from the forested hillside. ‘Oh, this should be good,’ Tats exclaimed and sat down. He flopped back in the meadow grass and stared at the rivals as they closed in on Sintara. ‘Baliper might have a chance against Mercor,’ he speculated. ‘They’re about of a size, but I think Mercor is cleverer. Dortean? I don’t think so. ’

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  As if the dragons had heard him, Mercor suddenly looped in his flight and turned on the hapless Dortean. The orange male fled but could not evade the golden. Mercor chased him as he fled, and as Dortean neared the ground, Mercor dived on him. Dortean no longer had the altitude for evasion. He crashed into the trees, sending a large flock of starlings into mad flight. Mercor narrowly avoided following his rival into arboreal disaster. Wings beating strongly, he pulled up just above the treetops and skimmed over them. The branches waved wildly in his wake.

  Baliper had made good use of the distraction. The red dragon battered his way skyward, while Sintara continued to mock him. Mercor roared a challenge at him, but Baliper did not waste his breath in a response and continued to gain on Sintara. Her mockery changed to an angry cry. She flew at him, they clashed in midair, and Baliper fell away in a dazed spiral. In a dozen wing-beats they had both recovered, but he had lost more altitude than she had. He was focused completely on his pursuit of her when Mercor struck him from behind.

  Baliper writhed back, flipping to face the golden, and the males gripped, talons to talons. Wings beating wildly, front talons clenched and roaring at one another, they were falling through the sky as they tore at each other with their clawed hind feet. Sintara, silent now, circled above them, watching her suitors fight. Far above her, the silhouettes of Tintaglia and Kalo had merged.

  ‘They’re falling, falling … break it up, fellows, or you’ll both die!’ Tats cried out in awe.

  But Baliper and Mercor did not separate, not for another two breaths. Then with an infuriated scream, Mercor abruptly tore himself free of the scarlet dragon. Wings beating wildly, he careened off. Baliper managed to flip over, and then to veer away from the trees that had awaited him. He landed badly in a meadow, rolling and bending a wing before crashing to a halt. Thymara stared at him, sick with dread, until she saw him lift his head, stand, and then shake his wings back into position. As if aware of her gaze, he gave a final angry trumpet before stalking off into the shelter of the woods.

  ‘He’s nearly caught her!’ Tats exclaimed admiringly.

  Thymara turned her eyes skyward. Sintara seemed to be making a very genuine attempt to escape Mercor. She looped back once, slashed at him with an angry scream, and then tried to resume her climb. It was useless. The tempo of Mercor’s golden wings increased and his speed with it. Suddenly, the golden dragon overshadowed the blue. His head snaked in to seize the back of her neck in his teeth.

  ‘He’s got her. ’ Tats sounded very satisfied. He rolled his head to grin at Thymara and then continued to watch the mating dragons.

  Thymara made a disgusted exclamation and gave him a strong push. He turned to her, grinning, and before she could draw her hand back, he seized her wrist. He tried to pull her to him, but she jerked free of him, turned and ran. Her heart was beating wildly. ‘Thymara!’ Tats shouted and ‘No!’ she called over her shoulder.

  She ran, but the sudden thunder of his footfalls was close behind her. She felt him catch at the trailing edge of her wing. She snatched it from his grip, felt a sudden lift from her spread wings, and closed them on the down-beat. Behind her, Tats gave a wordless startled cry.

  ‘The ravine!’ he shouted, and she saw it wide before her. It gaped, a steep-sided crack in the hillside, possibly a scar of the same quake that had levelled parts of Kelsingra. She started to slow, to turn to elude him, but he was too close behind her. ‘Don’t be stupid!’ he shouted, but it wasn’t, she decided, it wasn’t stupid at all.

  She snapped her wings open, managed two down-beats that nearly lifted her off her feet and then she leapt. For a dizzying moment, there was nothing under her feet save the sudden drop-off. In the ravine far below her, she glimpsed a narrow, rush
ing stream cutting its way toward the river. Three more beats of her wings lifted her and then, as she lost focus and altitude in amazement at what she had done, the meadow on the other side seemed to reach up for her. She landed running, caught herself, skidded to a halt on her knees and then turned. ‘Tats! I flew! I really flew, it wasn’t just a jump. I flew!’

  Tats had halted on the other side of the cleft in the earth. He was staring at her, a very strange expression on his face. Abruptly, he turned away. He walked off and then, putting his head down and pumping his arms, he ran from her.

  She watched him go. Her heart that had been beating so wildly with joy and excitement now seemed to pump coldness through her body. Too strange. She was too strange for him. She glanced down at the black claws on her hands that had set her apart since the day she was born. She had always been too strange, too Changed by the Rain Wilds. The wings and the flight had been too much even for loyal Tats. Tears stung her eyes as she watched him go.

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  A shrill keening turned her eyes upward. Yes. Mercor had caught Sintara. Joined, they circled high above her. She shook her head, tried to clear it of the dragon’s heat that she had experienced so clearly. Time to be practical. Her bow. Had she dropped her bow in her wild flight from Tats? Where? On the other side?

  She looked back the way she had come and saw Tats coming at her. He had gone up the hill slightly and now was running back down it in silence. His teeth were gritted in determination. ‘The gully!’ She shrieked the warning at him, but it was too late. In two strides he reached it and flung himself forward in a wild leap.

  He couldn’t possibly make it.

  But he did.

  He hit on his feet, tucked his head down, rolled in a wild somersault and came up on his feet again. His impetus carried him forward and he crashed into her. But as his arms wrapped around her and he carried her to the ground with him, she knew it was no accident. ‘Caught you,’ he said.