Dragon Heart (20 page)

He rolled over onto his back and struck up with the knife, straight up over him into the gross dripping belly, and the blade bit deep. The boar recoiled. Luka bounded to his feet, his breath sawing in his throat, blood streaming down his left side. The dead horse was a yard away. He snatched a spear from the saddle. They faced each other, Luka and the boar, and the great beast bellowed and pawed at the ground. It shook its head, splattering blood around. Luka took the spear in both hands and ran straight at the boar, and it gave one last roar, turned, and ran away.

Behind Luka now he could hear the screams and howls of the people watching. He shouted, “Bring me a horse! Bring me a horse!” With one hand he pressed the long flap of skin back against his side.

All the pigs were running, squealing, a great bouncing noisy carpet of their bodies flowing back over the field toward the forest. Luka was breathless; he stumbled. It was hard to do anything with his side torn open. A horse came up beside him, and he turned to it, reaching for the reins. Oto was in the saddle. His mouth was open and he was bellowing, but Luka could not hear the words. He turned, to see the people of Terreon, suddenly brave, rushing out after the pigs, killing the laggards, dancing over the bodies. He felt the hot, sticky blood rushing down his side. His body trembled, very heavy. He leaned on Oto's horse, sobbing for breath.

*   *   *

The boar had slashed Luka's skin open from the armpit to the hip but had hit nothing vital. A woman from the village made him lie down on a table, plastered something all over the wound, and wrapped him up in yards of bandages. Oto said, “My lord, surely—” And Luka went by him, putting on his shirt, and out to the street, where a fresh horse was waiting.

Oto said, “You think you can ride?”

“Come with me.” Luka put his hands on the saddle and gathered himself; it took all his strength to lift his foot and put it into the stirrup. He crawled up onto the horse's back. The blood was leaking down his side again.

They rode out after the pigs, the townspeople following after in a mob, armed with sticks and knives. All the rest of the day they chased the pigs east, out of the fields and back through the forest, killing many. Luka questioned everybody as they came on them, but nobody had seen the black boar. With the sun going down and more rain coming, Luka called off the hunt and they rode back to the town.

Oto said, “I think you killed it.” His voice quivered. “I have never seen such a fight. You must have killed it.”

Luka knew the boar was not dead. He sat on his horse at the gate into Terreon as the people paraded through, carrying great bloody chunks of pig on their spears. Lifting his gaze, he looked back toward the forest.

Behind the forest, the mountains.

He remembered the tiny pig eyes, the bristles, the foul stench of the beast. It was not dead. He knew what this was. But his side hurt. He was hungry. He turned toward Oto, waiting there beside him, and nodded.

“Let's eat. Sleep. And then tomorrow go back to Castle Ocean.” He would heal in Castle Ocean. Then he would hunt down the boar.

 

10

“You cheat!” Broga cried, and hammered his fist on the table.

“I didn't,” Jeon said. He had.

“And you still lost.” Broga swept his Queen across the board. “Checkmate.”

Jeon was locked in his fury; his ears burnt. He thought he might kill Broga then and there and be done with it. Cram a chess piece down his throat. Broga was glaring at him, as usual. Jeon reached for the pieces, to set them up again.

Boots sounded in the doorway, and the corporal Marwin came in, who commanded the gate; he had been acting as the herald since the real herald died on the beach.

“Glory to the Empire.” Marwin saluted. “The King and my lord Archduke Oto are here, my lord.” His gaze veered to Jeon. “My lord.”

“Well, then,” Broga said, and pushed himself back from the table. “It will be good to have the company of men again.” His lip curled.

Jeon said nothing. His temper had cooled; he thought now of painting Broga's Queen with venom, so he died slowly.

In a burst of laughter Mervaly and Casea came into the hall, their arms linked. Several of the old people were appearing, as they would, now that Luka was back, and the servants began pouring wine. Luka strode through the door and everybody shouted and cheered for him. He came up to the high seat and greeted his sisters with kisses and gave Jeon his hand.

“Well met,” he said. He glanced around toward the door, where Oto was standing on the threshold waiting to be recognized. “What happened while I wasn't here?” Only Broga was walking up to meet his brother.

Jeon said, “I hate him.” He shook his head. “Nothing much. He sent some men down to the new fort.” That reminded him, and he fixed Luka with a sharp look. “I overheard— They think some fleet is coming from the Empire, messengers, an army, something. It's supposed to have been here by now.”

Luka grunted, and his face settled. “Did you find out anything else?”

“How to castle,” Jeon said.

Luka glanced toward the end of the table, where the Imperial brothers were sitting down, and back to Jeon. “Did you beat him?”

“No.”

“Ah, well,” Luka said, and slapped his arm. “Someday.”

Jeon set his teeth together. He said, “You're hurt. What happened with you?”

Luka shrugged. “There is a boar from the mountains, who has gathered up every pig in the country. They're tearing up the orchards and fields.” He put his fingers to his side. “I'll mend, now that I'm here.”

Down the table, Oto said, “Your mighty brother dealt them a fatal blow, I feel. Such a fight as he made against the boar should be sung in ballads, or figured in a great tapestry.”

Jeon said, “Did you kill it?”

“No.”

Down the table, Oto was talking low voiced to his brother but now lifted his head again. “My lord, we should make a great hunt for it. We need some dogs.”

“It's out in broad daylight, and it's afraid of nothing.” Luka rubbed his hands together. Jeon saw he was troubled, finding something deep in this. “It came out of the mountains.”

Jeon lowered his eyes, understanding now what this was to Luka. The servants were bringing around the food. Trollo with his mouth harp had come up from Undercastle, bringing another boy to play the flute, and they were making music. Mervaly laughed.

Oto said, “My lord, you keep no dogs.”

“No dog can tolerate the castle,” Luka said. “Likely we can find dogs in the town. Some of my friends there hunt.”

Jeon said, “Aken has a ratter.”

Luka gave a laugh. Sprawled on the high seat, his feet up on the table, he was gnawing on a bone.

“We need more than a ratter,” Oto said.

Broga said, “What does anyone hunt in this backwater?”

“Maybe a couple of ratters,” Jeon said, talking to his hands. “What more do you need to catch pigs?” Luka gave him a hard look. Jeon said, “For instance, we could use a few ratters around here.”

Broga said, “Watch your mouth, you stupid boy.”

Jeon leapt to his feet, reaching for the knife on the table, and Luka caught him by the arm. “Sit.”

Broga was on his feet. “I cannot bear anyone who cheats at chess.” His voice quivered with fury.

“What are you all, but thieves and cheats?” Jeon cried.

Luka flung his bone across the room and leapt up. He thrust Jeon hard down onto his chair. “Sit.” Facing the end of the table, Luka said, “My lord Broga, my brother is young. I don't think you have such an excuse.”

Oto was hauling on Broga's sleeve. Broga and Jeon stared at each other; Jeon felt his ears heat. He still had the knife in his hand and he slicked it against his thigh. But Broga was sitting down again, under Oto's control. Jeon's sisters watched all this, rapt.

“My lord,” Oto said, “let this go by. We must be friends. My brother will apologize.”

Broga's jaw dropped and his face turned bright red. Luka said, “Nobody fights in this hall.”

“Of course, my lord. But, see, nothing really happened.” Oto spread his hands. “Let us have peace.”

Mervaly was leaning forward, her head turning from one side to the other. She cocked an eyebrow at Jeon, who hunched down into his shoulders and directed his attention to his meat. A servant brought the jug with the ale. Mervaly said, “What did happen, Jeon?”

“Stay out of this, Mervaly,” Luka said.

Casea said, “Which would be a shock.” With a frown she lifted her hand with the needle, trailing purple thread.

Jeon met Mervaly's eyes, shiny with questions, and gave a little shake of his head. Somehow, he thought, he had let Luka down.

Abruptly Jeon realized all of this was a kind of giant chess game. He was young, as his brother said, and all this while he had seen this much too small. He put his arms on the table, staring off across the room, while everything he knew overturned itself and settled into another order.

*   *   *

Later he met Luka on the stair into the King's Tower and he pushed Jeon against the wall and spoke into his face.

“If you can't master yourself you can go where you'll do no damage. Take off. Sign on to a ship. Get a quest. Go on a pilgrimage. Grow up.”

Jeon said, “Let me kill him. It will save us a lot of trouble.”

“Why do you think you could?” Luka took a step backward. His stare drilled into Jeon's. “Stay away from them.” He punched Jeon lightly in the chest. “Obey me.” Two steps at a time he went up the stair.

*   *   *

“What is this?” Oto said, looking into the new chapel.

Broga grunted. “It's that damned boy.” On the wall the sword hung skewed, and the table he had brought in for an altar was pushed up against the wall under it; the lamps were broken. The oil had spilled down into the little wells on the altar. “Help me.”

Oto came in after him and one at each end they tried to move the table, but it would not budge. Broga swore under his breath and signed himself. “I have guards on it, but somehow he comes in here and tosses things around.”

Oto doubted Jeon tossed this table around, which was as heavy as if it had grown roots into the floor. He watched Broga straighten the sword and wipe it bright again with his sleeve. “I'll put more guards on it,” Broga said. “The wretched brat. I need more lamps.”

The pieces of the old lamps lay on the floor. Oto had thought at first it was the spilled oil that glistened on top of the table and filled the depression at this end. It did not look like oil. He dipped his finger into the well and touched it to his tongue.

It was salt. It was seawater. He turned to Broga, to ask him about this, but he was kneeling, was going into the locked room of his prayers. No talking to him in this state. Oto went out the door, where a guard leaned against the wall, half-asleep. He needed to think this all out, and he went up to his room at the top of the tower, and shut the door.

*   *   *

“I had hoped to see Prince Jeon,” Oto said, looking around the hall. “To make amends between us.”

Luka picked up his cup. “I sent him away.” He had been passing judgments all morning; the most recent supplicant was just going out the door. Luka wondered what Oto had in mind here. Someone else already waited, out there; they had been a long while without a King.

“My lord,” the Imperial man said, “my brother has admitted he was as much at fault as Prince Jeon, who is young, and untried in men's ways.” Oto glanced back over his shoulder at Broga, standing stiffly behind him, for once keeping his mouth shut. “I pray you not to punish him. But we surely must separate them; my brother is rash also, and intemperate at times. Broga will take it on himself to go. He can carry messages, such as we discussed on our ride here. To Santomalo, maybe even on to the Holy City.”

Luka said, “I don't think that's necessary.” He gave Broga a sharp look. Oto moved, getting in his way, urgent with something else.

“My lord, in the messages, let me say that I may marry the Princess Mervaly.”

Luka laughed at that. “Go ask her. That's hers to say, not mine.”

“My lord.”

“Ask her, not me.”

“But I have your permission,” Oto said doggedly.

“Yes, of course. Ask her all you wish.” Luka pointed over to the doorway, where two townsmen loitered, waiting for his attention. “Now, if you will, get out of here. I have work to do.”

*   *   *

Outside, in the room where all the stairs began, Broga got up in front of Oto, angry. “What is this? I have no interest in going anywhere.”

Oto pulled him into a corner. “Shut up and listen. You are not going to Santomalo. Listen to me. Here's where you will go, and this is what you will do.”

*   *   *

“No,” Mervaly said, and laughed, as if he had said something funny.

They were alone in the room, except for the shuffling, squawking birds. She stood in the middle of the floor, her hair fiery with the sunlight spilling through the window, more beautiful than he had ever seen her. His body rushed with furious heat. His hands groped in the air.

“Lady, consider the advantages. The King will thus be the Emperor's kinsman. He can stay here unchallenged as master of Castle Ocean.”

She said, “He is King of Castle Ocean now.”

“But if we married, we would guarantee that.”

“Leave,” she said. She was no longer laughing. “This will never happen.”

“I beg you to reconsider.”

“No.”

“Then just keep your mind open to it.” Her luscious flesh, veiled but not hidden by her clothes. As if she read his mind she lifted her hands and smoothed the front of the gown over her breasts.

“No,” she said. “Leave. Please.”

He turned and went out like a whipped dog. His heart thrashed in his chest. He would kill her. First he would slake his lust with her; then he would kill her. In his own chamber, he sank into a chair, ignoring the other men around, and locked his hands together and stared at the floor.