A Legacy of Dragons Page 3

  Vilmos' eyes adjusted to the brightness just as they crested the rise they'd rode down and into the dark recess earlier in the day. He told himself he didn't want to glance back. He did anyway and what he saw terrified him.

  Chapter 6

  Along the road ahead loomed the walls of Gregortonn, taller than the mightiest of the redwoods in the Pallisades. Walls that had repelled giants and titans alike during the Great War. Emel rode Ebony Lightning, his black stallion, alongside Galia, who rode Razor, the king cat she'd been bonded to since the age of twelve.

  A twenty-chain caravan in front of them moved lethargically and the battements lining the road made it impossible to skirt around. With evening about to settle in, he longed for a warm meal, a cold drink, and a hot bath. The order needn't be exact, but he did need all three. It'd been a long day.

  Some hours ago, as the morning dawned, he and his privateers had robbed the very caravan he and Galia followed. Galia knew nothing of this, though his dark hood and cloak were stuffed into his saddlebags even now.

  He was agitated after such a long day, and his earlier quarrel with Galia wasn't helping his mood, though somehow his current predicament seemed a fitting end to a day that he'd never welcomed in the first place. In fact, if he could have turned back time, he'd have turned it back to the instant before Galia kissed in the hot pool and whispered to him between her kisses. He'd have stopped her from saying anything of what her father knew, for not knowing and not suspecting anything would have made his life so much easier.

  Knowing, he must now wonder about her father's intention. He must consider every action those around him took. He must worry about every stray word from her father, from her father's soldiers, from Galia herself.

  Subterfuge was one thing, but how was he supposed to exchange words, sit across from or even be in the same room with a man who knew he was an enemy of the crown. King Jarom Tyr'anth was not a man to be trifled with. He was a man who trifled with others. A man who flayed alive the least of those who displeasured him and reserved even graver punishments for those who truly displeasured him.

  "Emel," Galia said loudly.

  He knew at once she'd said something that he hadn't heard. "Sorry, my love," he started to say. Remembering where he was and with the press of so many others around them all waiting to get into the city, he said instead, "Rider Tyr'anth, you must forgive me. I was lost in thought."

  She turned Razor in front of him, and he had to quickly rein in Ebony Lightning. "Be ready," she said pointing to the gatehouse ahead.

  He looked up, saw the grand arches and realized they were approaching the outer portcullis. He also saw the gate guards were searching everyone entering the city. Quietly, he said, "We need to turn around."

  "Why?"

  Emel patted his saddlebags. "This day's misadventures."

  Galia glared at him. "You didn't? Tell me you didn't?"

  Emel winked. "I did. This very caravan."

  "You're incorrigible."

  "Move along," a brash voice said suddenly.

  Galia shot Emel a withering glance as she turned Razor sharply, neatly forcing the pike-wielding guard to step back. "Address me properly or not at all."

  The guard slammed the butt end of his pike against the stones and saluted. "King's Knight Champion, I did not see that it was you."

  Galia urged Razor forward, pressing the guard back a few more steps. "Surely you saw Razor? Every cat rider in the city deserves proper address. Rider, at the least."

  "Rider, from first bond to last breath, a title earned," the guard said after swallowing hard.

  Galia's sour expression eased. "Were you a rider? Or did you serve with riders?"

  The guard nodded. There was a sad look in his eyes suddenly. "Both."

  "Very well then," Galia said as a dismissal, followed by a salute. The guard returned the salute, turned on his heel, and walked back along the road.

  Emel guided Ebony alongside Razor. "Nicely done."

  Galia urged Razor on. Her contented expression, turned sullen. "What have you done?"

  Emel looked away from her probing eyes, giving his attention to Ebony and the slow walk toward the gatehouse. "Only what I told you I must."

  "But you knew we were returning to the city."

  "I knew, but you also knew who I was from the moment we first met."

  Galia tightened her grip on Razor's leads. "As I recall, it was William Riven who introduced us and near these very gates."

  Emel wanted to say that King William's reward for doing so was the dungeon cell he occupied somewhere under Gregortonn. He bit back the words, said instead, "How fitting then that I'll be sharing a cell beside him so soon."

  To herself more than to Emel, Galia said, "What a fool I've become." She turned away, started shouting, "Make way. Make way."

  Emel followed her through the crowd, knowing he might be headed for his own death, knowing also that if he made a dash for the distant woods alone he was a dead man anyway. As they approached the portcullis and the guards blocking the way into the city, Emel grew worried. He tried to hide it but doubted he was doing a very good job of it.

  "Don't do this," he said, half to himself, doubting Galia could hear him.

  Galia scoffed as the guards blocked her entrance into the city, bringing Razor up on his hind legs. "Out of my way," she shouted.

  "Orders," a guard said. "We're to search all entering the city."

  Galia threw back her head and jeered openly. "Step aside. Step aside now. Do you not know who I am?"

  "No exceptions," the guard said resolutely.

  Galia brought Razor down. As she twisted around and grabbed his saddlebags, Emel's heart skipped a beat. With his eyes, he pleaded with her not to do what he expected her to do, for if Galia Tyr'anth was anything she was her father's daughter.

  While holding the leather satchels aloft, she said, "I am the exception. Move aside or my father will flay you himself."

  She urged Razor through the lines of guards. When she kept going and didn't look back, Emel knew he'd made a terrible mistake. She'd seen his doubt and distrust, though he had little time to ponder this.

  "Dismount," a guard ordered.

  Emel complied. As he was searched, he worried that somehow he might still be found out.

  Guards approaching Ebony with pikes caused the horse to start. Before Ebony could rear up, Emel reached out and pulled down on the harness, regaining control.

  "Untrained beasts are not allowed in the city," a guard said.

  "It was a momentary lapse," Emel said. "Ebony and I have been in the city many times."

  Guards searched his packs and bedroll. One of them found the orb and held it out to Emel. "What is this?"

  "This?" Emel said, reaching out and taking the orb, careful not to show how anxious he was suddenly. "Never seen a glass ball? The fishers use these to make their nets float."

  "It floats?" The guard asked.

  Emel was starting into a reply when the guard Galia had spoken to earlier approached and said something to the other guards that Emel could not hear. Abruptly, one of the guards turned on his heel, struck the butt end of his pike against the stones. "You were with the King's Knight Champion?"

  Emel felt his heart beating faster in his chest. "I was. She's just--"

  "Very well then," the guard said.

  It was a dismissal, and Emel breathed easier. After tying down his packs and bedroll, he led Ebony through the gateway tunnel and into the city.

  He looked for Galia as he worked his way toward the central marketplace, but she was nowhere to be found.

  Chapter 7

  A knock on the door startled Adrina. She spun around. "Yes?"

  "Adrina, is everything okay?" Xith asked. "I heard something break."

  She moved to the door, but didn't open it. "It's nothing. I dropped my looking glass."

  "The mirror from Imtal? Your mother's?"

  "An accident," Adrina said to reassure him, still hesitant to open the
door. "I overslept. Why didn't you wake me?"

  "You looked so tired last night. I thought you could use the extra sleep."

  Adrina put a hand, palm facing outward, to the door. "Yes, and so much better today. Thank you for that, but aren't we late for today's deliveries of medicines and supplies?"

  Xith moved away from the door. Adrina thought that perhaps he was tending to the spit over the fire. "No deliveries today."

  Adrina started picking up the pieces of the broken mirror. "No deliveries?"

  She cut herself and cried out.

  Her outcry brought him running into the room, shouting, "What's happening? What's happening?"

  Adrina frowned, looked up from where was kneeling. "Nothing, I cut myself on the glass. That's all."

  Xith glanced down at her hand and the blood dripping from her fingers onto the floor. "That won't do. Won't do at all."

  He waved a hand in the air, spoke words she couldn't quite hear and then touched his hand to hers. A moment later when he pulled his hand away, the cuts were gone and the blood had dried.

  Adrina smiled. Other than the battle the night before, it'd been some time since she'd seen him work magic openly. "It would've healed."

  Xith turned his attention to the mirror. He said a few words, held out a hand with fingers outstretched. The broken pieces of the mirror rose off the floor and began reassembling themselves. It took but a moment and then the mirror was whole once more.

  Finished, Xith studied her face. "Now don't tell me that would have mended itself too."

  Adrina wrapped her arms around him, kissed his cheek. "Thank you. Oh, thank you. It was my mother's and I've so little left to remember her by as it is."

  Xith stepped back. "Well at least I was right about the rest. You look renewed today."

  She gripped the mirror in her hands. Looking at her reflection, she realized she did look renewed, even if that was thanks to the potions and lotions. "I feel renewed."

  "Good, good," he said, retreating from her room and moving to check the food and the fire. "I've hastened the cook time on this. Nearly done. Would you mind setting the table?"

  She put the looking glass on the bedside table and stepped into the living area. "But so much magic today?"

  He turned the hoar hound shank on the spit over the fire. "Considering the magic unleashed yesterday, I think it's safe to say every hunter and foul creature across this endless ice is headed for the canyons."

  "But Vilmos and Ærühn?"

  He poked the tubors with a stick, from his pleased expression she guessed that they were done or nearly so. "If those two did as told, they should arrive soon. May even be in time to join our meal."

  She took four plates and four cups from a cupboard and carried them to the table. "And if they didn't?"

  "They were close to the door, an hour's ride at most. They'll be fine. Don't worry."

  The water bucket was still in her room, so she retrieved it and then filled the cups. "Ansh and Delinna--"

  "--are capable of taking care of themselves."

  Adrina took the long orange tubors and thick dark roots from the embers, taking care not to burn her fingers. Afterward, Xith carved slices off the shank and put them on a plate.

  As the two sat down and began eating, she looked to the door expectantly. "Must be a little late."

  He reached out, touched her hand. "A little late. Nothing to worry about."

  "Nothing to worry about," she repeated to herself. To him, she said, "Look at me, a princess of the realm and I've no table manners whatsoever."

  He shook his head. "You've set a fine table and the need for formalness between us is long since past."

  "It is, isn't it?" she said, her voice reflecting some of the Watcher's emotion.

  The two ate in silence for a time. Finally, he said, "I saw Graeden. He asked about you."

  Her eyes lit up, but she made no reply.

  He continued, "He's rather fond of you."

  She drank deeply, emptying her cup. "I feel so useless just sitting here. When we should be out helping those we can."

  He took another portion of meat and a few slices of dark root. "Sometimes, Adrina, you need to live a little."

  She pushed food around on her plate for a time, and then put the plate aside. "So full," she said, though in reality she had eaten little.

  Before she could get up from the table, he stopped her. "No, really. I mean it, Adrina. Sometimes you need to live, to breathe. What good will it do anyone if we become so exhausted that we can't carry on? You needed a rest today. We've been pushing too hard, too long. It's a wonder we're both not ill."

  She feigned a smile and hoped her eyes did not give away her distress. "A short rest is just what I needed, but surely there's time yet for a few runs today."

  "You're not listening. Today's your day. I know you need this because I know I need this. So why not live a little?"

  "Noman was your friend and mentor through dark times. He was my friend too. It's fitting that we take time to mourn him."

  "This isn't about mourning Noman. He wouldn't have wanted that. He was an immortal and knew what he was doing when he set his will against the sickness. He saved a countless many, whole villages, but the task was simply too great. He extinguished his magic trying to save the peoples of the Ice from the darkness and with his magic gone he himself was lost."

  Her smile now was real, but so were her tears. "But how can we dare to hope when one so great failed?"

  "Just as Noman chose to give everything and all, we can choose to live. He's given us that chance. So why not spend the afternoon with Graeden? I know you want to. I've seen the way you look at each other."

  She stood and started clearing the table. "We're not a good match."

  "What does that matter? The heart wants what the heart wants."

  She sat back down. "I am a princess of the realm. I must remember my station."

  Xith murmured something softly that Adrina couldn't hear, then said clearly, "Here, there are no kings or queens, no princes or princesses."

  "I am promised to Rudden Klaiveson."

  Xith laughed openly. "Breaking a pledge made to a blood relative of a Tyr'anth is fitting, and you wouldn't be the first Alder to do so. I think that honor goes first to your mother who wisely chose your father over a Tyr'anth and second to your sister Delinna who chose service and priestess robes instead of a Tyr'anth."

  Adrina sucked at the air. Her angry eyes showed her hatred for the Tyr'anths and all they stood for. "But the Tyr'anths got what they wanted in the end. Didn't they?"

  "It is the end of the matter when we say it is. Still, if your return to Great Kingdom is to be accomplished, you must return with the troops of many armies at your back."

  "And just how would we get such armies?"

  Xith's expression became solemn. "Noman and I chose the Ice to keep hope alive. We fled here because of our bonds with the peoples of the North. Your nephew, Vilmos, is now their Watcher, and perhaps you could become their queen."

  "A queen? You just said there weren't--"

  "I know what I said, but there are things in motion that you don't know. There is precedent. Among the men of the north there was once a king, just as there was once a queen. Do you think we stayed in this harsh forsaken place for so long for nothing? Do you think Noman gave everything for nothing? He gave everything for hope, for a better tomorrow."

  Adrina became agitated and spoke quickly. "I don't understand. My brother, Valam, is heir to the throne of Great Kingdom. Delinna and Calyin are the eldest daughters. As a male, even Vilmos--"

  "Yes, if we were talking about Great Kingdom, but we're not talking about Great Kingdom. We're talking about the Ice, about a union between the King of the North and another. Calyin is wed. Delinna is with Ansh. That leaves you."

  "But you said there wasn't a king?"

  "There's not a king yet, but there is precedent."

  "I don't understand." Adrina shifted in her chair. "And Graed
en? How does he fit into this?"

  Xith said plainly, "He doesn't, but you could use the distraction."

  Chapter 8

  Warbær raced on, a few spans behind Lilbær, and rapidly closing the gap. As Vilmos looked back, he saw dozens of snarling trolls ripping their way out of the warren and up the hill. He gulped at the air, tried to remain calm, but what he saw along the path ahead as he turned back chilled him to the bone.

  "Giants?" he screamed, uncertain whether to rein in Warbær or continue charging ahead into the tangle of giants. What was this about? Was this because he had used magic again?

  He leaned forward, gripped the saddle tightly with his legs. Whatever was going on, Ærühn wasn't slowing down.

  Ærühn shouted out a battle cry as he raised his twin blades.

  Having caught up to Lilbær, Vilmos guided Warbær alongside. His own sword was lost in the troll warren, and he had no other weapon--except for his magic. "Ærühn, no!" he shouted. "The giants aren't our enemies."

  Ærühn charged on, urging Lilbær to race faster and faster. "Giants and men are nothing to each other. You'd do well to remember that."

  Vilmos coaxed Warbær into a faster run. "Think! The giants helped us yesterday and fought beside us. Windstorm himself declared me their Watcher."

  Ærühn pointed with one of his swords. "Do you not see?"

  Vilmos stared long. He squinted, saw a figure clad in long black furs. She was kneeling, head bowed, and her long dark hair was blowing in the wind. Staring wide-eyed, his mouth fell open.

  "Mother? Mother?" he called out as he reached out to the well source of magic and forced a steady flow of strength and power into Warbær.

  "Run! It's a trap," Delinna shouted, her despair seeming to grow at the sight of him. "It's the Void Stone. Warn Noman. He must not fight it. It will kill him--it will kill everyone."