Dragon Ultimate (7 page)

"We'll be reunited once again. You must both come to dine with us. Just Hollein and me, so we can talk without an audience."

They laughed together, thinking of the occasions Relkin had been invited to grand dinners by the Tarchos and then subjected to an interrogation by the guests. Folk like the Tarchos didn't get many opportunities to hear what a dragonboy had to say, especially this dragonboy, who had been taken up into the most dreadful battles with sorcerers.

"I would be honored, Lagdalen of the Tarcho."

"And so would we, Relkin of the Legion Star."

They laughed again at her riposte. She was a Tarcho princess, but he was the only dragonboy ever to win the Legion's highest award.

"Seriously, Hollein would be very pleased. He didn't really get to see you before you went to Andiquant."

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. It opened to reveal a young legal aide who brought in several scrolls for Lagdalen to read.

Lagdalen accepted them with a groan and dumped them on the scroll reader. When the girl had curtsied and left, Lagdalen picked up some parchment from her desk.

"Relkin, I'm afraid we also have to go over this case."

He groaned softly.

"It is still being pursued," she said quietly. "There is a group of senior officers, identified with the Aubinan interest, who are pressing it. They might have been arrested except for the amnesty proclaimed by the emperor. I'm afraid they have a certain amount of support here in the city."

"But the rebellion's over, isn't it?"

"It still sputters. Many wealthy men have lost their estates, forming a pool of bitterness. There are some bandit groups in the woods up in Biscuit-Barley. Our old friend Porteous Glaves roams the Forest of Nellin. General Neth and his riders are up in the Crimig Hills. So there are still embers aglow, even though the people at large have turned against the whole thing."

"What about Wexenne?"

"Serving a life sentence on the Guano Isles."

"Well that's good news, at least."

"Yes. But this case against you, on the other hand, has a problem. We have still never received any response from our message to Mirchaz."

"But we did from the king."

"Yes, Choulaput responded very favorably. That letter clears you of most of the charges and leaves that gold safe. The gold from Mirchaz is another matter."

"Ah, the tabis that fell out of the wall of Mot Pulk's house. You know, I thought me and Baz deserved them, frankly, after what we been through."

"Yes, that may be, but they are still technically loot."

"Those were strange days. The city was burning. The slaves killed the elf lords, just threw them on the fires. I thought the gold was meant to be taken. I guess I wasn't thinking very clearly at the time."

Lagdalen had read the deposition several times. Relkin had been through the end of the world there in Mirchaz, and she wondered just how much he had been changed by the experience.

When she had first met him, he was still a rosy-cheeked boy, too wise for his age and too wily for his own good. Was there anything left of that boy she remembered? That young rogue who almost got a birching for stealing orchids off a balcony garden? She smiled to herself. Even then she was looking out for him.

"I have moved for another delay in the case, but the high court turned us down. I think there has been some pressure behind the scenes from the Aubinan interest, forcing us to trial before we can get a reply from Mirchaz."

"What can we do?"

"The best we can. The judge will allow us to present the letter from King Choulaput. You and the dragon will provide testimony as to what took place in Mirchaz. We can show that you registered the gold upon your arrival and paid the appropriate taxes, and that may be what saves you."

"Right. If I'd thought it was wrong to have the tabis, why would I have registered them. I would just have smuggled them in and hidden them."

"They will give you a very harsh cross-examination. All the details about Mirchaz will be raked over for any discrepancies between you and the dragon. Nor can we coach you, for that is forbidden and the court will notice it. They'll be watching for the signs."

"Well, it'll be a long hot day or two in court then. But the dragon has a good memory. He fought the elf lords that day and brought down their city. He will tell them the truth. That's all he knows."

Warm weather blew up from the south, and the next few days were blistering hot in the city of Marneri. Heat shimmered off the cobbles in the streets. The white walls glowed in the sunlight. Folk shed their jackets and socks. The trees on Foluran Hill began to wilt. When the tides ran out, the gray mud along the fishermen's dock stank in the hot sun. Up on Tower Hill, the fine shops rolled their awnings down as far as possible.

On the third day of the heat, little Fanny Nurriat was taken ill around noon. Her home was a run-down old tenement on Fish Hill. Just that morning she had been sobbing over her cat, Dego, who had died that morning of a mysterious illness. She was seven years old and very attached to the cat. Still, she didn't even get to bury Dego. Her father took his body away and sold it for a farthing to the ragman. It would go as food to the guard dogs at Penchem's Wharf.

Fanny came down with fever a few hours later and complained of feeling very ill indeed. Her mother put her to bed, startled by the sheer heat of the fever in the girl. Then Fanny began vomiting, and continued to vomit even when there was nothing further to be brought up. Around the middle of the afternoon her mother found black buboes growing in Fanny's armpit and groin. An hour later, Fanny died.

Her mother was already sickening, and so was her brother Walter.

Fanny's father, Elben went to the dispensary for the poor. Unfortunately, he was not taken very seriously there by the acting clerks. Elben drank too much beer and was well-known for it. His family lived half-on and half-off the public purse, since Elben had never managed to keep a job for very long. He got by with occasional labor on the docks, and was a known malingerer.

Elben was desperate and would not give up this time. He stayed there in the dispensary, arguing with the clerks for half an hour. Then he was suddenly taken ill and within a few minutes began to vomit. He was taken up and carried back to his house.

It was discovered that the Nurriat house had become a place of death. Fanny's body lay in the parlor. In the bedroom lay Mrs. Nurriat, plainly dying. On the floor in a corner they found little Walter Nurriat, curled in a fetal ball. The clerks from the dispensary panicked, but it was already too late. All three of them would be dead within a day and a half.

Meanwhile Fanny's Aunt Gikla had staggered out of the Nurriat house and made her way to the Broken Hat, a local drinking parlor popular with the older generation. She didn't feel good, and a pint of rice wine ought to do the trick, she thought. She ordered the wine, but never drank it. While it was being brought she went into sudden convulsions and then began the vomiting. She expired there about an hour later, surrounded by friends and acquaintances. When they opened her garments, they found the glistening black buboes all over her body.

That evening Relkin and Eilsa, reunited again, were visiting in the great Tarcho apartment in the Tower of Guard. Lagdalen and Hollein had a small suite of rooms entirely to themselves on the interior side of the apartment. Aunt Kiri was in the kitchen with old Habu, the maid.

It was a warm night, the windows were open, and they could hear the happy shrieks of the children playing around the fountain down in the interior courtyard. The narrow parlor room was used for dining by pulling out an old table from beside the wall. Some chairs were borrowed from other rooms, and they all sat down to a fine dinner—baked guinea hens, poached salmon, and a wonderful bottle of Spriani wine from Arneis. The food, the wine, and the joy of being together like this kept their spirits high, even as they fell into reminiscences of the past.

Eilsa appeared fully recovered. She and Relkin held hands all evening, obviously in love. Since Eilsa's arrival in Marneri, she and Relkin had spent as much time as possible together. Aunt Kiri had mellowed a few degrees while at Widarf, but she remained a constant presence, which forced them to keep apart physically except for a few stolen kisses now and then. It was intensely frustrating for them, but exhausting for Aunt Kiri.

Still they were obviously happy, deliriously happy. Lagdalen wished them joy and exchanged a sly smile with Hollein. He grinned back.

By the Hand! Lagdalen said to herself. The Mother Herself must have been watching out for them. Hollein might have died in the gladiatorial ring in Tummuz Orgmeen. Instead he sat there, alive, strong, beautiful, her husband and the father of her children.

Relkin wore that same air of rediscovered purpose that she had seen on him after his return from Eigo. The child in him had almost disappeared. Behind his laughter she sensed deeper, darker concerns.

Outwardly Eilsa seemed calm and almost back to her old self, but Lagdalen sensed that there was still trouble under the surface. The girl from the hills had spent only a short time directly under the physical control of the Dominator, but in that time he had raped her mind and taken something of her self-confidence.

And Lagdalen, herself? How was she? She was an overworked mother of two with an extensive law practice and too many social causes to fight for, she thought, grinning ruefully.

"Well, to change the subject from those bad old days," she said, after Relkin and Hollein had finished reminiscing about the fighting in Ourdh. "How are things with our mighty friends in the 109th?"

"Oh, they've been in the city too long, but that's all. Even Gryf seems to have settled in. No one even complained about him when I got back. Jak and Endi made some money gambling, so they've been living the high life. New clothes, new boots, new equipment for the dragon. Alsebra was pleased by that, of course. The Purple Green is bored with the food, and he's impatient for some time in the country. We're due to rotate out to Dashwood in three weeks time. He's hoping for some game."

"Why are they keeping you in Marneri?" said Eilsa. "I thought by this time that you would have been sent to Kenor. You were due to go there."

"I don't know. When I went off to Andiquant they thought they'd be sending us to Axoxo."

A nightmarish thought came to him of Curf trying to be a good dragonboy up in the mountains in constant cold and windy conditions. The dragon would never have survived. "But no one seems to know what they'll do with us now."

The cook brought in the kalut and sweet biscuits to finish off their meal, then announced that Lady Lacustra, Lagdalen's mother, was bringing grave news.

Lacustra came in with a face gone wild with panic.

"Lagdalen, oh my child, my child. We must get out!"

"Mother, what is it?" Had a fire broken out? Lagdalen went over to Lacustra to take her hands. "Mother? What is it?"

"Listen everyone, I have terrible news. We must flee the city at once. This very night."

"Why, Mama?"

"Plague! There is plague down on Fish Hill. There's a dozen dead down there already and many more that have fallen sick."

The four friends whirled to each other. Crystal clear in their memories were those awful scenes in the laboratories of the Dominator.

"What kind of plague?" said Hollein, praying that it was something harmless that had just alarmed Lacustra.

"The sickness of rats," she sobbed. "Buboes in the armpits and groin."

Their faces turned ashen. This was the black plague, the most terrible affliction in the world.

"What is being done?"

"The witches confer. That is all I know. The message I received was brief. Expect quarantine tonight. Leave at once.

Tommaso must be told, but I don't know where he is or how to contact him."

"Leave the city?" said Lagdalen.

"Before it becomes impossible," replied her mother. "None of us are infected, we can be sure of that. There are no rats in the tower."

"Where would we go?" said Eilsa.

"Shall you go back to Widarf ?" said Relkin quickly,

"No. I hadn't thought to do that."

"How can we leave the city at such a time?" murmured Lagdalen in shock.

"If it's the black plague, then we have to kill all the rats. That's the only thing that will really stop it," said Hollein, citing the historical precedents.

"We don't have plague in Clan Wattel. Or not that I have ever heard of."

"Aye," Hollein nodded soberly. "It doesn't often affect small populations because it's spread by rats. We've had it in the cities before now, but not for a hundred years or more. Not since before King Wauk."

"What can we do to help?" said Eilsa.

"Leave the city." Hollein was clearly decided.

"But what about the sick and dying?"

"The witches and the temple are taking care of all of that. They will have had the training for it."

"It seems heartless to leave when people are sick and in need of aid."

"Believe me, it is best to leave. You cannot help without becoming another victim and thereby make more work. If volunteers are called for, you will be informed."