A Birthright of Blood (The Dragon War, Book 2) (13 page)

She walked around a bakery where
a white scarf hung at the window, a sign of mourning. This house,
like many in Lynport, had lost a soldier in Castra Luna. Kaelyn
swallowed an icy lump in her throat.

Today
Lynport is more dangerous than ever,
she knew.
Today
the resistors are no heroes here, but demons. We slew the youths of
this city.

Kaelyn reached for her
sword—the hundredth time today—and found it missing. She took a
deep breath, steeling herself, and kept walking.

She passed by a tannery, a
chandlery, a smithy, and a dozen other workshops. They were built of
wattle and daub, white clay filling the space between their timber
frameworks. From the ground floors wafted the sounds and smells of
their trades: the ring of hammers on anvils, the tangy scent of
beeswax molded into candles, the creak of looms weaving cloth, and
more. At their top floors, where the tradesmen and their families
lived, shadows moved behind windows and more white scarves flew.

So
many scarves,
Kaelyn thought, eyes stinging.
So
many youths we killed.

As
she walked down the cobbled road, she looked to her left. Alleys
sloped between houses down to the boardwalk. The sea churned gray
there, waves spraying foam like watery phoenixes rising. She
glimpsed the cannon, the oldest one in Requiem, watching the southern
horizon.

The
Old Wheel used to stand nearby,
Kaelyn thought. As she walked by another alley, she stared south and
saw an empty patch of rubble and ash. She whispered a prayer.

Yet today she had a new errand
here. She raised her head and looked northwest instead. There, upon
a hill, she saw the fortress rising. Kaelyn squared her shoulders
and clenched her fists.

Castellum Acta rose craggy and
tall, a single tower above a wide hall. Bird droppings and moss
stained its tan bricks. Arrowslits lined its walls. Battlements
crowned the tower, and two dragons perched there, clad in bladed
helms, watching the city. Flags of the red spiral thudded around
them.

Castellum
Acta,
Kaelyn thought with a shudder. For five hundred years, benevolent
lords had ruled here, governing a prosperous port. Today a general
of the Legions, a pet of the emperor, lurked behind those bricks.

The
man I must kill today,
Kaelyn thought.

She trudged up a narrow, cobbled
road that climbed the hill. The fortress rose above her. Boulders
and brambles littered the sandy hillsides, and gulls circled above,
cawing in mockery. As she climbed higher, Kaelyn rose above the city
roofs. When she looked behind her, she could see Lynport's boardwalk
lined with rotting shops, the docks that stretched into the water
like fingers, and the sea rolling into the horizon. The scent of
saltwater tickled her nostrils, and the waves whispered in her ears.

"Girl!" rose a growl.
"Girl, halt!"

Kaelyn spun back toward the
fort, which rose a hundred yards away upon the hilltop. Two soldiers
came walking down from its gates, swords drawn. Upon the tower, the
sentinel dragons glared, smoke rising from their nostrils.

When the guards reached her,
Kaelyn curtsied.

"Good morning, sons of
Requiem," she said. "I've come to see General Gorne, lord
of this fort." She handed them a scroll sealed with a snake
stamp. "A birthday gift from Lord Teus of Castellum Sil. It is
General Gorne's birthday, is it not?"

The soldiers frowned, and one
snatched the scroll from her hand.

"What's this then?" he
demanded. "This scroll is a gift?"

Kaelyn gave him a crooked smile,
pulled open her cloak, and revealed the scanty silks she wore
beneath.

"No, my lord," she
said. "I am. Lord Teus, a friend of your commander, already
paid for my services. I shall be spending the night."

Their eyes widened, and Kaelyn
sighed inwardly. Men were so easy to fool. She tugged her cloak
back shut and glared at them.

"Well, take me to your
lord," she said. "He would not like you delaying his
gift."

Soon they entered the gates of
Castellum Acta. Inside the main hall, Kaelyn held her breath and her
heart pounded. The whisper of waves and the salty air faded behind;
she stood among stone and shadows.

Columns supported a vaulted
ceiling. Doorways led to other halls; through them, Kaelyn saw a
dining room, an armory, and a barracks full of cots. Dozens of
soldiers moved through the chambers, and the clank of armor echoed.

At the hall's end, a trestle
table stood below a banner of the red spiral. General Gorne, Lord of
Cadport, sat at the head seat.

"Commander Gorne!"
cried one of the guards, slamming fist against chest. "A gift
for you, Commander. Lord Teus sent her."

General Gorne leaned across the
table, and his eyes narrowed. Upon his breastplate, he sported an
engraving of a boar, sigil of his house. The man himself bore a
striking resemblance to his emblem. He was beefy and pink-skinned,
and his wide nose spread across his face like a snout. His hair was
such a pale blond, it was nearly white, cut to stubble too sparse to
hide his scalp.

Please
don't let him recognize me, stars,
Kaelyn prayed, and her fingers trembled. Gorne had visited the
capital eight years ago and dined with her family. Kaelyn had been
only a child, but still she caught her breath.
If
he recognizes me, all is lost.

"Teus?" the porcine
lord said and rose to his feet. Despite his hoggish appearance, his
eyes were shrewd. "Lord Teus is an old goat's piddle stain."
He glared at Kaelyn. "Who are you, girl?"

She curtsied, allowing her cloak
to open seemingly by accident, revealing the silks she wore beneath.
The thin cloth showed more than it hid.

"Your birthday gift,"
she said. "That is all, my lord. Teus has paid for me
already."

Gorne stomped around the table,
frowning. He moved at a waddle, nearly as wide as he was tall. When
he reached her, he placed a finger under her chin—that finger was
wide as a sausage—and lifted her face toward his. He scrutinized
her. His eyes were pale blue, and his nose was bulbous and veined.

"Teus must be after my
son," he said, disgust dripping from his voice. "The old
bastard's daughter is coming of age. The pathetic gutter lump must
want to soften me before suggesting a marriage between our houses."
He snorted, shoved Kaelyn back, and roared to his hall. "As if
House Gorne would stain its blood with the venom of Teus!"

The soldiers across the hall
cheered at this—Kaelyn guessed they'd cheer at anything their
commander announced loudly enough. She cursed inwardly, and sweat
trickled down her back.

He
might not have recognized me, but he'll send me away,
she thought with a chill.
Stars,
or he'll imprison me, or he'll toss me to his men, and our plan is
doomed.

"My… my lord?" she
asked. She straightened, allowing her cloak to open another inch.
"Shall I return to Lord Teus? I'm already paid for, and… if
your lordship would return me, I will gladly warm Lord Teus's bed
instead."

He spun toward her. His lip
curled back, revealing small, sharp teeth. With a hand like a paw,
he grabbed her arm.

"Oh, I'll have my gift,"
he said, and his eyes simmered. "Teus beds only the goats he
raises on that forsaken farm he calls a fort. We'll have a taste of
you, girl."

He dragged her from the hall,
his men howling behind, and onto a staircase. They climbed up the
tower. His fingers dug into her arm, and she stumbled behind him,
struggling to climb fast enough. As the stairs spiraled up, pocked
with embrasures, Kaelyn glimpsed the southern boardwalk, houses
stretching east and west, and the northern forests. Looking upon
those misty trees, her eyes stung and her throat tightened.

You
wait for me there, Valien,
she thought.
I
will not fail you.

They climbed hundreds of steps,
and General Gorne was wheezing when they finally reached the tower
top. He yanked open a doorway and dragged her into a chamber.

Kaelyn felt herself pale. Her
breath died.

"Stars," she
whispered.

General Gorne snorted and dug
his fingers deeper into her arm.

"Aye, you're a fine gift,
child," he hissed. "A gift I won't be returning soon."

Kaelyn's eyes dampened.

Stars,
oh stars,
she thought.

A dozen women filled Gorne's
dusty chamber. A bed rose in the back, but the women sat upon straw
piles. They were naked and sallow, and chains bound them to the
walls. They stared at Kaelyn with blackened eyes, and their swollen
lips moved silently. One was pregnant, her belly swollen but her
limbs scrawny and her eyes sunken.

"Filthy lot!" General
Gorne said and spat. "Grown old and sickly, these ones have."
He turned toward Kaelyn and licked his chops. "Aye, but you're
fresh. You'll make a good addition to my collection."

The harem writhed upon the
straw, and chains clattered. One woman, her nose bashed and bloody,
reached out and whispered. Her voice was too soft to be heard, but
Kaelyn could read her lips.

I'm
sorry,
the woman whispered.
I'm
sorry.

"You… collect them, my
lord?" Kaelyn asked, heart thrashing against his ribs.

Gorne was already unbuckling his
armor. His breastplate clanged to the floor, sending the women to
cower against the walls.

"I bought them," he
said. "They are scum, all of them. Nothing but seaside whores
who polluted our docks. I gave them a home here. I cleaned up the
boardwalk from its filth."

And
you bedded them,
Kaelyn thought.
And
you beat them.
It took all her will not to snarl.
And now you will pay for your sins, Gorne.

"They were like me,"
she whispered.

Gorne hissed and drooled. "You
will be one of them, whore." He tugged off his tunic and boots.
"I will break you in before I chain you among them."

As he began to undo his belt,
Kaelyn doffed her cloak. She stood before him in her silks, legs and
belly bared.

"I am yours, my lord."
She climbed onto the bed, lay down, and looked up at him. "Please,
my lord, be gentle with me."

He tossed off his trousers and
stood naked before her, sweaty and pink. Spittle dripped down his
chest.

"I will be as rough with
you as I like," he said, walked toward the bed, and lowered
himself atop her. "I'm going to hurt you now, and you're going
to love it."

Kaelyn reached to the silks
around her thigh and drew her poniard.

General Gorne's girth pressed
down against her.

Her blade entered his neck.

He gasped. His eyes widened.
His mouth opened and closed, struggling for words, dripping blood and
saliva onto Kaelyn's chest.

She gave him a crooked smile.
"I thought you liked it rough, my lord."

She twisted the blade, and he
gurgled. He pawed at her, and his sausage fingers grabbed her
throat.

He squeezed.

Kaelyn gasped and stars covered
her vision.

She drove the blade deeper. His
hand kept squeezing her throat. His blood poured down his neck, yet
still he choked her. She squirmed and kicked beneath him. His body
pressed against her, thrice her size and slick with sweat.

She couldn't even wheeze. Her
lungs burned. She thought he'd snap her neck.

Stars
damn it, die!
She pulled her blade back. She thrust it again, piercing his
shoulder, and more blood flowed, but he kept choking her. His eyes
stared into hers, and he licked the blood on his lips.

"You…" he croaked,
"will be mine…"

She felt his arousal against
her. Panic flooded her and she floundered like a fish.

Oh
stars, he's going to bed me here,
he's
going to take his prize, even as we both die.

Blackness spread across her
vision, a midnight sky strewn with stars.

Her legs felt numb.

Her lungs faded into blazing
embers.

Before her in the night, she saw
the stars of Requiem, the stars of her fathers. The Draco
constellation shone above her. She was flying toward it, a green
dragon in the night. The starlit halls of her ancestors glowed
above, the columns white, and Kaelyn wept for she had failed her
people.

I
failed you, Requiem.

She winced.

No.
No, Requiem.
She screamed.
Not
today! Not today! Someday I will fly to you, starlit halls of
spirits, but not this day.
This
day is for sunlight.

With a choked cry, she thrust
her poniard again.

It crashed into the general's
mouth, punched through his palate, and crashed into his skull.

His fingers loosened.

Kaelyn gasped for breath.

She sucked in air, a breath she
thought could swallow the chamber, the tower, and the sea outside.
The blackness withdrew from her eyes like curtains lifted. Her head
exploded with starlight.

She kicked, shoving the boar of
a man onto the floor. She leaped over the corpse, raced to the
window, and kicked it open. The sea breeze whipped her hair and
stung her cheeks.

Behind her, the women whimpered.
She looked over her shoulder to see them reach out to her, their
chains clattering, their eyes pleading. Kaelyn sucked in her breath.

"I will return to you,"
she whispered… and jumped out the window.

She tumbled down from the tower,
silks flapping, her bloody poniard still in her hand.

Before she could hit the ground,
she shifted into a green dragon. She beat her wings, whipping the
bushes and raising clouds of dust. She soared.

She rose above the tower. Upon
its battlements, the two dragons shrieked. Kaelyn blasted them with
fire.