Read Dragon and Phoenix Online

Authors: Joanne Bertin

Dragon and Phoenix (26 page)

BOOK: Dragon and Phoenix
10.09Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
Raven and Otter joined them. No one said a word. Linden urged their Llysanyins
through the gate. As soon as all, two- and four-foots alike, were outside the pasture, Linden latched the gate shut. They started down the trail to the Keep, Shan, Boreal, and Hillel to the fore.
Lleld hopped down from Miki and slapped the mare on the rump. “Go on,” she said. Miki trotted ahead to join the others. The Llysanyins were soon out of sight.
They trudged along without speaking, wrapped in gloom.
“Why?” Raven asked at last. Coldfire lit his wet face. Rain? Or tears? The pain in his voice was a thing that cut, sharp and hard and edged like a knife. “Do they truly look down on truehumans so?”
Linden had no answer for him. He didn’t think anyone knew, or ever would know.
Then Jekkanadar spoke; a ball of golden coldfire illuminated his dark, narrow face. “I don’t think that’s it.” His words had the shy hesitation of a belief spoken aloud for the first time. “They bond strongly, very strongly, with their riders.”
“I’ve seen it with Shan,” Otter said. “But what has that to do—”
The coldfire drifted away into the night. “You can live as long as three hundred years—maybe more. Think of the pain of giving your heart to someone who will live but a fraction of that time. How many times can you do it without that heart breaking? Nightsong already gave her heart once.”
They went on, drawing cloaks closer against the wet cold. Linden wondered if Jekkanadar had touched on the truth.
Lleld said with unaccustomed soberness, “After all, it’s why so many Dragonlords can’t be friends with truehumans. It hurts too much.”
“We come and go so quickly, don’t we?” said Otter. He spoke as a man who had lived many years and, knowing he was near the close of a truehuman’s allotted span, accepted that truth.
“Like moths in a flame,” Lleld whispered.
Walking beside Linden, Maurynna made a small choking noise. Was this the first time she had truly understood what being a Dragonlord meant? That she would outlive everyone she had known in her life as a truehuman; all of her friends, all of her family, every truehuman she now knew would be dust, and she would remain unchanged. That she would see every child not yet born to kith and kin grow old and die, and their children after them. He flipped the edge of his cloak aside and reached for the hand that he knew would be searching for his. Cold fingers closed around his as though they would never let go.
We have each other
, he told her, pouring as much comfort as he could into the words.
Thank the gods
, came the heartfelt reply.
Raven stopped short and held up a hand. “What’s that?” he asked sharply.
Linden halted, as did the others. He’d been so caught up in the conversation and Maurynna’s distress that he hadn’t heard anything amiss. Now he did. After a moment he identified the sound.
“Hooves,” he said. “Running horses.”
“And they’re getting louder,” Maurynna said. “They’re coming toward us—our Llysanyins?” The doubt in her voice said she didn’t believe it.
“Trouble ahead?” Otter asked quietly.
“I don’t know,” Linden said and sent his globes of coldfire ahead of them. The others bade theirs join his. They waited in a tense group on the path.
For another moment the sound continued straight for them. Then the horses went to either side—two, Linden decided by the sound—and swept out and around once more.
New hope sprang up in his breast. “Look!” Linden cried.
Just ahead of them, from either side of the trail, two Llysanyins burst into the light. Their bodies were as black as the night, but their grey manes and tails shone in the glow of the massed coldfire. They raced headlong at each other; at the last possible moment they sat back on their haunches and pivoted swiftly to face the waiting group. Moving as one, they raised their forelegs off the ground, a slow controlled movement. Then both leaped straight up, hind legs kicking straight back at the apex of the leap, in flight for one magical instant.
Linden watched in awe. He knew what he saw and that Raven would as well: the
aelarhan,
the battle maneuver meant to decapitate a foot soldier or unhorse another rider, a maneuver both deadly and beautiful—and damned difficult.
The Llysanyins came down, each in the place it had leapt up from, creatures of the earth once more. The tall stallion went straight to Raven; his granddam followed more slowly but went without hesitation to Otter.
For once the bard was too stunned to speak. As for Raven—Linden had to look away from the naked joy that filled the young man’s face as he laid a hand on the stallion’s neck. It was too much like trespassing.
The first thing he saw was Lleld dancing in the rain. Her red hair was plastered to her skull and her cloak flapped around her like the wings of some drunken bird.
“Oh, well done!” she cried. She caught Jekkanadar’s hands and swung him around in a circle. “We have our troupe! We have our troupe!” she sang.
 
A few days later, on a day when the sun shone strongly enough to warm even Taren’s bones, Linden brought him to the mountain pasture to select a horse for him.
“Are you certain you don’t even want to try?” Linden asked.
“No, Dragonlord,” the man said with a self-deprecating smile, “an ordinary horse is good enough for the likes of a former slave like myself.”
“That was hardly your fault,” Linden said more sharply than he meant to.
“Who would argue with the will of the gods?” Taren countered gently, his mildness a reproach. “Not I. I’m content, my lord, that you pick out a sturdy, sensible beast for me.”
Contrite, Linden said, “Shan and I will do that.”
So he went off, hand resting on the big Llysanyin’s neck as he told Shan what he was looking for. The stallion knew the horses as well as any two-foot ever could, even Chailen who had eyes for little else than his charges. Between them they would find a “right fine” horse for Taren, as the hillmen of Yerrih would say.
 
“Well?” Otter asked in a low voice.
Linden stepped to one side, drawing Otter out of the press of people making their way into the great hall for the evening meal.
“I tried to talk him into trying for one of the Llysanyins,” Linden reported, “but he refused. Felt even one of the half breds was too good for him. So an ordinary horse it was. A solid gelding, strong and sensible, with good paces and hooves like iron. Even Chailen approved the choice, and that’s saying something.”
Otter’s eyes crinkled as he grinned. “So it is. And here comes your ladylove, looking for you; we’d best go in to supper.”
Linden caught the hand that Maurynna held out to him and pulled her close, sliding an arm around her waist. Otter flanked her other side as they went to their accustomed table. Her nearness comforted him, but his thoughts were far away.
Bit by bit, Lleld’s mad scheme was becoming reality. Bit by bit, their danger grew.
The day after a mount
was found for the last member of her troupe, Lleld was climbing the stairs to the library to read more of Lady Ardelis’s book when a gentle “tug” at her mind made her stop. One hand on the banister, she asked
Who
—
?
*
It is I, Morlen, little cousin. I have a news of a Seeing for thee. Will thee hear it?*
Lleld’s breath caught in her chest.
Of course, my lord!
*I do not think thee will like it, and Jessia will like it even less. It is also very clouded; something blocks my vision somewhat.*
Oh, dear; that did not sound at all encouraging. Lleld said,
And what is this Seeing, my lord?
She listened, and as she listened, her heart sank. Morlen had been right. She didn’t like it at all. The Lady might well have second and third thoughts about letting them go. And Linden … !
She would think about that later. When Morlen was done, Lleld asked,
Have you told the Lady about this yet?
A long silence, then an embarrassed, *
No
.*
Lleld waited.
*
She is already very angry with me,*
Morlen said.
Lleld indulged in the luxury of grimacing because Morlen couldn’t see. So she was to get stuck with this bit of dirty work, was she?
Well and well, this whole thing had been her idea from the beginning. She supposed she couldn’t complain.
But she certainly wanted to. Instead, she said,
I thank you for this news, my lord. While it’s true it’s not clear, anything we can find out is of great help to us. And yes, I will tell the Lady.
A sigh of relief gusted through her mind.
*I thank thee, little cousin Lleld. I only wish I could do more to aid thee. May the gods go with all of thee, and the winds sing under thy wings.*
She felt him withdraw from her mind. She slumped against the wall, trying to find a way out of this thornbush of unpleasant choices. But no matter what way she thought of, all involved getting scratched.
Ah, hell—she might as well get it over with. Grumbling under her breath about cowardly truedragons, she mindcalled the Lady, Jekkanadar, and, after a long moment of hesitation, Linden.
Then she turned and trudged back down the stairs as slowly as she could. Perhaps she didn’t have the luxury of cowardice, but she certainly didn’t have to rush into having her head bitten off.
 
“What!” Linden roared the instant Lleld finished relaying Morlen’s news. “Maurynna go alone to that damned mountain? Are you mad, Lleld?”
“No, Morlen is, if anyone is,” she pointed out. “And he didn’t say she had to be alone. He just said that you couldn’t go with her as we’d orginally thought you could. You always knew that you wouldn’t be able to go inside the mountain with her, Linden.”
“Yes, I knew that,” he snarled. “But I always thought I’d be able to go at least most of the way with her—even up to the mountain, though not inside. And now you tell me she must go alone?”
“She won’t be alone, not really. I told you he said that there was help waiting there for her.”
Linden just glared at her. By the gods, Lleld thought, she’d never seen him like this. She’d rarely seen Linden lose his temper in all the time she’d known him. She’d never thought him capable of such anger, such fury. But there he sat, his dark grey eyes cold and hard.
“But Morlen didn’t say she must go alone
to
the mountain, Linden,” said the Lady unexpectedly. “Surely one of the truehumans can go with her.”
Lleld nearly fell over at this sign of support from such an unexpected quarter. She’d never be surprised at anything else again.
“That’s true,” Jekkanadar said.
She caught his eye.
Otter?
she asked him privately.
Who else? Do you want to rub his nose in it?
he replied dryly.
Ah
—
no.
“It’s a capital idea. Otter can go with Rynna, and—”
“No,” Linden said in a tone that brooked no arguments. “Not Otter. And this is why … .”
 
Maurynna wondered what news had come that Lleld called Otter, Raven, and her to the quarters she and Jekkanadar shared. Perhaps now they would see the final details of their mission settled. She also wondered why she hadn’t been called to the meeting with the Lady. That, she thought, did not bode well.
Even worse, Linden hadn’t mindcalled her to tell her about it; she’d only found out when she returned to their quarters and heard the news from their servants.
She looked from Lleld to Jekkanadar to Linden, who looked like a storm about to break. “You three were closeted with the Lady for a long time. Have
you decided the final details? Will Linden and I have to split off from the rest of you because four Dragonlords would likely alert the priestmages?”
No one said anything.
Uneasy now, Maurynna asked, “You
have
decided the last details?”
Lleld would not meet her eyes. “Um, yes. There’s only one way to do it, Rynna. I don’t like it. Jekkanadar doesn’t like it.”
“And I bloody well don’t like it, either,” Linden snarled. His hand clenched; the pewter goblet he held crumpled like eggshell. He cast it aside. Wine splashed across the table like a gout of blood. With a vicious curse he kicked his chair over backwards and strode out of Lleld and Jekkanadar’s quarters
Maurynna sat back, shaken hy the violence of his actions. She had never seen Linden like this. She east a quick glance at Ötter, looking for enlightenment; he had known Linden for more than forty years was this flash of temper a common thing? But the bard looked as astonished as she felt.
Uncertain, she half rose from her chair. “Lleld, Jekkanadar—what … ?”
Jekkanadar caught her wrist to stay her. Maurynna looked down at the dark brown hand clamped over the still-pale patch of skin where the rank bracelet of a sea captain once had rested. Suddenly she knew what was coming next. “I have to know what’s wrong with Linden,” she insisted, seeking to forestall Jekkanadar.
“I can tell you what’s wrong with Linden,” said the Assantikkan Dragonlord. “Linden’s frightened for you. For as you pointed out, we must split up once we are in Jehanglan.”
Lleld said, “You’ll have to leave us, Maurynna. Or we have to leave you. As far as we—and Morlen—know, you’re the only Dragonlord who can approach Mount Kajhenral without lighting every alarm beacon—so to speak—for miles around. Linden will stay with the troupe; we’ll create a diversion.”
Part from Linden? For the gods only knew how long? Perhaps to never see him again?
No. No and no and no yet again,
she tried to say. As short a time as they’d been together, they were already entwined like two trees that had grown around each other. The thought of being apart from him hurt—frighteningly so.
But it had to be done. There was no other way; she could see that. A wave of desolation passed over her. “I’m to go alone?”
She might as well. No one else could make up for the loss of Linden … .
But Lleld shook her head. “No, you’ll need someone to watch your back if nothing else. We’ve talked it over and decided that the best person to go with you is Raven.”
Maurynna whipped around to face him. If he’d known about this, blast him, or had any sort of hand in separating her from her soultwin, she’d—
If Otter had looked surprised before, Raven looked stunned now. This was
as much of a shock to him as it was to her. Maurynna bit back the harsh words that had jumped to her tongue.
“Me?” he sputtered. “But why?”
“Because Rynna is still far from an expert rider,” Lleld said bluntly. “She’ll need someone who’s experienced with horses with her, someone she—and we—can trust. Most importantly, she needs someone whose presence won’t blow a war horn right in the ear of the priestmages. That leaves out any of us. We had considered your great-uncle, you know, but it was decided that the one who went needed to be young enough and strong enough to stand the pace Maurynna must set. In other words, Raven—you.”
“Is that why Linden Rathan’s so upset?” Raven challenged. “He’s jealous that I won over my great-uncle?”
Lleld’s brown eyes narrowed. In them Maurynna saw a contempt and anger that she’d never seen the little Dragonlord display before. Her lip curled.
But before she could say anything, Jekkanadar spoke. Somehow, though his voice was gentleness itself, it was all stinging rebuke. “It was Linden who insisted it be you, Raven Redhawkson. In deference to his feelings, Lleld and I had suggested that Otter go with Maurynna. But Linden argued in favor of your youth and stamina, your knowledge of horses. And he reminded us of another thing.
“Like healers, bards must be free to travel safely upon their business since it’s to the benefit of all. Therefore, their persons are sacred. But in return for that immunity, neither may they do harm to others. Otter is forbidden from killing save in the last extremity of self-defense. To help Maurynna, you may well have to cut a man’s throat from behind.” He cocked his head. “Have you ever killed, Raven?”
Raven stared at the table. “No,” he said. “Never.”
Jekkanadar nodded. “It’s not an easy thing, believe me. Even to save your own life, it isn’t easy. I know. I hope you can do it if it becomes necessary. Have you any idea how hard it is for Linden to entrust the other half of himself, the half he loves more than anything, to a boy who isn’t a blooded warrior? Who never even trained as one? Linden was a soldier; now, as a Dragonlord, he’s more than the equal of any man in speed and strength. He’s the best guard possible for Maurynna. And he can’t do it.
“Once we’re in Jehanglan, they daren’t mindspeak each other once you two split off from us. He won’t even know for certain what’s happening to the two of you. Do you wonder that he’s angry and upset? And you put it down to common jealousy.” Jekkanadar made a noise of disgust and turned away.
No one else spoke. Unable to stand the tension in the room—or the miserable expression on Raven’s face—Maurynna left. This time neither Lleld nor Jekkanadar tried to stop her.
Once out of the other Dragonlords’ quarters, Maurynna paused in the hallway, letting her mind seek Linden. She could feel him close by, a seething tangle of anger, resentment, and, yes, jealousy. But overriding it all was a wretched, helpless fear.
All will be well
, she mindspoke him. She stretched her perception of him a little more and knew at least in which direction he’d gone. She went after him.
A heavy mental sigh, then,
If the gods are kind. Maurynna-love, you’ve no idea how this hurts.
She pushed open the door leading to the narrow staircase that spanned this end of Dragonskeep. Linden sat across one of the steps, back against the wall, his long legs sprawled out before him. He looked up, his handsome face weary, and swung around, making room on the step for her.
“I do know,” she said, sitting beside him. “Do you remember the night I Changed? When you were facing Kas Althume at that altar? All I knew was that I had to be with you, that somehow
I
had to protect
you.
Part of me knew that was silly; I still thought I was a truehuman then. You were once a soldier and now a Dragonlord. What help could an untrained truehuman give you?
“But it didn’t matter. I had to be there.” She rested her head against his shoulder. “I was lucky; I was able to be with you.”
“And a damn good thing you were; I wouldn’t like to think what Kas Althume would have done with his first plan thwarted,” Linden said.
“For which I still thank Sherrine,” Maurynna said with some reluctance. Although the young Cassorin noblewoman had saved Linden from Kas Althume’s black magery by sacrificing herself, there had been no love lost between the two women. Instinctively one hand twitched toward the eye that Sherrine had once cut open with a whip.
Instead Maurynna made it rest atop the other one on her knees. Linden would know why she touched her eye. She would not bring back those memories for him. Not at this moment.
He covered both of her hands with one of his and squeezed. “Ah, love, it wouldn’t be so bad if Raven knew more. If only I could choose who went with you,” Linden said. “If only I could reach back in time … .”
She knew whom he thought of: his cousin, Bram Wolfson, leader of the mercenary troop Linden had belonged to. The man who’d helped Rani eo’Tsan to her throne in Kelneth, who in his turn had become High Chief of Yerrih. Rider of the first Boreal and the hero of many of the ancient stories and legends Otter had told Raven and her when they were children.
A shiver took her. To her, Bram and Rani were legends from the distant past, stories for a winter’s night by the fire. But the man sitting beside her, who even now slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, had known them, had fought beside them. He had been a legend himself in her eyes.
BOOK: Dragon and Phoenix
10.09Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Last Oracle by Colvin, Delia
One Last Chance by Hollowed, Beverley
The Playground by Julia Kelly
Allison's Journey by Wanda E. Brunstetter
Knight of Pleasure by Margaret Mallory
The Blonde by Duane Swierczynski
Songs of Christmas by Thomas Kinkade
The Possibility of Trey by J.A. Hornbuckle