Read Dragon and Phoenix Online
Authors: Joanne Bertin
Dragon and Phoenix (55 page)
And why weren’t the merchants moving on? All during the journey, the merchants had pressed on as if any delay cost them gold by the candlemark. Yet when he’d gone outside a little while ago to look for Taren, he saw that while they were packed, they’d made no move to travel on. Instead they clung to their camp, small groups huddled together talking, their faces anxious.
Nor had anyone seen Taren.
And biggest question of all, why had Taren suddenly looked as if Raven had handed him the key to a chest of treasure last night? Belatedly he remembered that Maurynna had said not to speak of her inability with anyone. With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Raven took out his anger at himself and Taren by throwing Taren’s blanket roll to the back of the tent. Gods curse it, why had he opened his big mouth?
The rolled blanket struck Taren’s belt pouch, left behind on the ground, and sent it flying, scattering Taren’s things. Raven shut his eyes and clenched his fists, fighting the urge to break into a string of curses.
Just my bloody, damned luck.
Muttering under his breath, he knelt to pick up Taren’s belongings. The way his luck was running, Taren would pick
now
to return, and this was not something Raven wanted to explain.
Muttering under his breath, he knelt to pick up Taren’s belongings. The way his luck was running, Taren would pick
now
to return, and this was not something Raven wanted to explain.
Among the items was one that caught Raven’s eye: a small, heavy awl of darkened steel that had fallen from its sheath. But it was like no leather awl that a traveler might carry that Raven had ever seen before.
How very odd,
he thought. The metal portion, a narrow, three-edged blade, was perhaps the width of a hand long; the point …
How very odd,
he thought. The metal portion, a narrow, three-edged blade, was perhaps the width of a hand long; the point …
Raven incautiously touched it. Bright red blood welled out; he stuck his pricked finger into his mouth, grumbling. The damned thing was dangerous!
He examined the handle. While the end was flattened as he expected an awl’s to be so that one could push it through leather with the heel of the hand, it was
not the traditional bulbous shape that would sit secure in one’s palm. And it was wrapped in twisted wire like a—
not the traditional bulbous shape that would sit secure in one’s palm. And it was wrapped in twisted wire like a—
It’s not a handle. It’s a hilt.
Licking suddenly dry lips, Raven examined the edges of the blade. They were honed to a killing edge.
Linden’s description of Revien’s death wound came back into Raven’s mind:
There was a tiny triangular tear in the skin at the base of the skull below the left ear. I looked a little more closely; it was a small hole, hard to see, but notable because of its shape.
There was a tiny triangular tear in the skin at the base of the skull below the left ear. I looked a little more closely; it was a small hole, hard to see, but notable because of its shape.
And hard on the heels of that memory came another like a wolf leaping upon a stag:
It’s done with something like a long awl, something pointed and narrow.
It’s done with something like a long awl, something pointed and narrow.
Taren had been out that same night, had come back much later than had been expected. And Taren owned a mysterious knife, kept carefully hidden, that looked at first sight like an—
Sickened, Raven almost cast the vile object from him, then reconsidered. The others should know of this. He had no idea why Taren had killed Revien; had the man seen or overheard something dangerous to Taren?
No matter; let wiser heads riddle that one out. His hands shaking, Raven shoved the awl-knife into his belt pouch and bundled Taren’s things together again.
Then he picked up his own bundle and walked out of the tent into the late morning sun. He forced himself to walk with unhurried steps to where Stormwind waited with the other Llysanyins; he nearly melted with relief when he saw that all of them were already saddled, and all save Stormwind had blanket rolls in place. Linden, most likely, may the gods bless him for once.
Raven sauntered up to Stormwind as if he hadn’t a care in the world. He even managed a jaunty whistle as he lashed his blanket to the back of the saddle.
“Be ready,” he told Stormwind in a cheerful voice and patted the stallion’s shoulder for the benefit of the Jehangli guards walking nearby. “We may have to make a run for it. I think treachery walks this camp.”
Every Llysanyin’s ears swiveled around at that, but only Stormwind turned to him. Raven wondered how much the animals truly understood.
Stormwind fixed a dark eye on him and bobbed his head once.
Satisfied, Raven strode off to find the others.
The lotuses gleamed white in the early morning sun. Lost in thought, Shei-Luin stood on the edge of the magnificent pool that was the center of the gardens of the empress, staring without seeing at the expanse of fragant white flowers that covered the marble-edged pond. A soft breeze teased at the heavy red silk of her robe. She ignored it.
From behind her came the sound of Xahnu’s laughter as he played with his
nurses, and a soft lullaby for Xu. And from barely a pace behind her, she heard Murohshei’s even breathing, a balm to her tumbling thoughts. She focused on a blossom a bow-length from the marble edge, and watched the delicate flower sway as the breeze abandoned her and danced across the pool.
nurses, and a soft lullaby for Xu. And from barely a pace behind her, she heard Murohshei’s even breathing, a balm to her tumbling thoughts. She focused on a blossom a bow-length from the marble edge, and watched the delicate flower sway as the breeze abandoned her and danced across the pool.
It surprised her that what she contemplated bothered her so much. She’d thought she hated Xiane. To her surprise, at some point that had changed. She despised him most of the time, yes; truly hated him—no. Not anymore.
He was a bumbling, inconsiderate oaf, but he meant well. He’d proven it in such a way that Shei-Luin blessed him for it.
If Xiane had not let him escape, Yesuin would have died when his brother broke the treaty. And though Xiane’s position saved him from taking Yesuin’s place in death, it was still a risk.
And that was why she found this hard, may the Phoenix help her. She knew well it was only because of Xiane’s affection for his hostage-friend that Yesuin still lived. For angry as she’d been with Yesuin, she’d never wanted him dead. Never that. Though she would never see him again, the knowledge that he was alive and free gave her comfort, gave her the strength to accept the gilded bars of the cage she lived in.
But despite all he’d done for Yesuin, Xiane was a threat to her sons. She listened once more to Xahnu’s bubbling laugh; to think of that beloved voice stilled before its time …
She would do what she had to do, as she had always done. Thank the Phoenix that it need not be irrevocable. She could set the stage, but need not perform the play if Xiane saw sense.
“Murohshei,” she said softly, not turning her head.
“Yes, Favored One?” the eunuch answered, keeping to his position one pace behind her shoulder. If anyone watched from the palace, they would not be seen with their heads together, plotting.
“Have you thought about what I told you the emperor is considering?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“And considered my fears of what it would mean for my sons?” The words came hard. Did speaking them give them power?
“Yes. And I fear that you have the right of it.” The eunuch’s voice was soft and worried. “For when I was a boy in the palace, long before you came, I listened many times to the young lords’ tutors as they lectured on the history of Jehanglan. Such killings have happened many times in the past. It
would
happen again.”
would
happen again.”
A coldness filled Shei-Luin. Though Murohshei was certainly no Oracle, his words had the ring of a true foreseeing. Why couldn’t Xiane understand? Could anyone truly be so naive?
If anyone could
, it would be
Xiane
, she thought wearily.
, it would be
Xiane
, she thought wearily.
“I can’t allow Xiane to abdicate,” she said. “If I can convince him otherwise,
all will be well, life will continue as it has, and one day Xahnu will inherit the throne.
all will be well, life will continue as it has, and one day Xahnu will inherit the throne.
“If Xiane will not see reason, then I have no choice but to take the throne as regent.” She paused; she had never said the next words aloud. With them she placed her life in Murohshei’s hands. If he chose to betray her, she would die a long and agonizing death.
Taking a deep breath she finished, “Which means that Xiane must die.”
The breeze strengthened, tugging at the sleeves of her heavy robes, rippling the water of the lotus garden, setting the white flowers bobbing. Murohshei waited at her shoulder. He said no word of reproach, nor called for the guards.
Instead he said quietly, “I understand, Beloved of the Phoenix. What do you need of me?”
Relieved, Shei-Luin said, “You must send word to Zyuzin’s family.” Then, unable to keep still any longer, she set off along the white marble edge of the pond. Murohshei followed like a shadow. As she walked, she told him what must be done.
When she finished, she added with a fervor that suprised her, “Let us hope it will not be needed.”
“May the Phoenix hear your wish, my lady.”
As he waited with the others for Raven and Taren, words slammed into Linden’s mind with the force of mountain falling. *
Thee are the ones he spoke of—I feared so! Run! Run!
* With them came fear and images of the Dragonlords dragged off in chains to suffer for eternity.
Thee are the ones he spoke of—I feared so! Run! Run!
* With them came fear and images of the Dragonlords dragged off in chains to suffer for eternity.
He reeled under the onslaught; shaking his head to clear it, he looked to his fellow Dragonlords and knew they’d experienced it as well. They looked stunned. Only Otter was untouched.
That was a dragon
, Linden’s mind faltered as he instinctively looked for Taren to explain this; supposedly all the Jehangli dragons were dead. Even as he wondered whether to believe it, there came a sight that decided him.
, Linden’s mind faltered as he instinctively looked for Taren to explain this; supposedly all the Jehangli dragons were dead. Even as he wondered whether to believe it, there came a sight that decided him.
Taller than the Jehangli, he caught a glimpse of the man he looked for. But not a Taren as prisoner, no; this Taren wore an air of command and rode at the head of a squad of—
“To the horses!” Linden bellowed. “It’s a trap!” With a curse, he threw himself into the crowd of merchants between them and the Llysanyins, striking out left and right, clearing a path. The other Dragonlords fell in behind him, Otter in the center. He heard the Llysanyins scream in anger as they realized the danger.
So sudden was the attack that panic broke out among the Jehangli. Many threw themselves to the ground, wailing in fright; Linden had no mercy for those either too slow or too foolishly brave to get out of his way.
Guards ran to stop them. Linden ducked under the pike of the first to reach
him, picked the man up and hurled him into his fellows. Using the pike as a flail, he battered his way on, none able to stand before his fury. The shrieks and moans of injured and dying men rent the air, doubling when the furious Llysanyins charged into the crowd, laying about them with teeth and hooves in a storm of death. The stench of blood and urine and voided bowels filled the air.
him, picked the man up and hurled him into his fellows. Using the pike as a flail, he battered his way on, none able to stand before his fury. The shrieks and moans of injured and dying men rent the air, doubling when the furious Llysanyins charged into the crowd, laying about them with teeth and hooves in a storm of death. The stench of blood and urine and voided bowels filled the air.
And all the while Linden heard the traitor yelling orders to “Take the creatures alive!” to the soldiers following him.
The guards fell back to regroup; Linden knew what would happen next. They would charge in a mass so thick that the Dragonlords would be overwhelmed and taken. He made ready to take as many as he could down and, remembering the images the unknown mindvoice had sent them, thought it might be best to die here. It would at least be a clean and honest death.
Then the Llysanyins plowed their way to the little group. Linden looked over his shoulder long enough to see Jekkanadar heave Otter onto Nightsong’s saddle, and to make certain that Maurynna was on Boreal. He leaped to Shan’s back; all were mounted now. “Ride!” he ordered and wheeled Shan around.
But Maurynna cried, “Raven!” and turned in the opposite direction at the same instant Taren bellowed, “Get the black-haired girl! She’s the key!”
Linden cursed and tried to go after her, but the soldiers swarmed into the gap she’d made and blocked his way. Gods help him, he’d forgotten the boy, and now Maurynna might have to pay for it. His heart went cold.
She reached Raven the same instant Stormwind and the Two Poor Bastards did. As Raven flung himself into the saddle, Lleld’s mindvoice ordered
Split up! Run!
Split up! Run!
Linden hesitated long enough to be certain Maurynna and Raven broke free. Then he gave Shan his head; as the stallion leapt forward like a battering ram, Linden laid about him with the pike. For one terrible moment he feared he’d waited too long. Hands grabbed at his legs; the butt end of another pike thudded against his ribs, nearly unseating him.
Then he and Shan were free. He cast the pike aside and raced after the others across the rolling plain.
Maurynna clung grimly to the saddle as Boreal cleaved through guards and merchants like a living sword. Behind her, Stormwind neighed a challenge as he followed on Boreal’s tail. All the while she heard Taren’s voice exhorting the soldiers to take her, to take all of them alive.
She wanted to kill him.
Suddenly Boreal was clear; Stormwind raced up alongside, and together they left the camp behind, the Two Poor Bastards following.
As she looked wildly around, trying to see Linden and the others—but especially Linden—Lleld’s mindvoice crackled in her head.
Ride for Mount Kajhenral.
But
—She had to know if all was well with Linden; she had to at least say good-bye. Tears forming in her eyes, she reached out for him with her mind.
—She had to know if all was well with Linden; she had to at least say good-bye. Tears forming in her eyes, she reached out for him with her mind.
The force of Lleld’s shout nearly felled her.
No! Do not mindspeak Linden! Go-I order you in the name of the Lady.
No! Do not mindspeak Linden! Go-I order you in the name of the Lady.
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