Return to Shanhasson (33 page)

Sleep
,
Mykal crooned to the beast.
Let me woo
her love. She cannot take a dragon to her bed, but when she takes me, she takes
you, too.

With a decidedly grumpy huff, the dragon
subsided. On his hands and knees, Mykal shivered, cold and clammy. What if the
beast refused to slumber while he Danced the Blades with her Reds? He knew very
well that she’d never forgive him if he killed one of her warriors.

Sands swallow him, what if the beast
ripped out of his body while he touched her? She might be the White Dragon of
his dreams, but she had no foul beast curled up inside her that could fight
back.

Dread gnawed at his spine, dragon claws
raking his nerves. His purpose had never been to kill her, not even for Shadow.
Then why had he been given this dragon spawn to carry? Perhaps the ring had
been the only way to ensure she survived his attentions.

Inside, he shook with fear, but he
stumbled back to the other
tals
,
throwing on his clothing and human weapons as he went. No one must know. Not
before he’d had a chance to win her love. If she needed him as the dragon
again, a dragon he must remain, for he didn’t think the beast would ever return
to the cage of his body again.

His
taamid
hung loose as well as his hair, but it couldn’t be helped. Barbarians lined up
opposite with swords unsheathed, but he ignored them despite the
tals
’ eager taunts about how easy it
would be to teach a horse how to Dance. “Throw back your
taamids,
get your hands off your blades, and smile.”

Nijar flashed teeth at him and it was
all he could do not tear off the fool’s head. Mykal moved to the opposite side
this time, hoping to hide his disappearance and return.

“Smile,” he repeated, “not bare teeth at
her like the beast you are. Remember the first sight of these green lands.
Remember the marvel of water flowing in their
wadi
, sweet and clean, untouched by acid or poison.
Iyeh
, that’s it. Whatever she says, smile.”

* * *

HER BLOOD CLOSED UPON HER as fast as
they could. All of them moved stiffly, as though breathing still pained them.
Likely her Healing had hurt them as much as their injuries, for she’d not
spared the flow of power crushing them. She hadn’t dared. Too many of those
precious red bonds had wavered like tiny flames ready to blow out.

Dharman reached her first, as she would
always expect. He pulled her tight against him, leaving her back for Sal and
Jorah both to cover. She leaned against him a moment and gave him a reassuring
squeeze, but she couldn’t fall apart yet. Later, in her bed, she would cry all
over him and kiss every fresh scar on his body.

He trembled against her, his hand
flexing on her back.

Her three lesser Blood were slow to come
near. Always the outer ring of defense, they’d taken the brunt of the attack
from all sides, yet they’d kept those swords from her downed First Blood and
her own body while she’d been trapped beneath him. Although their outer
injuries were healed and they no longer bled, Bane could hardly walk.

She went to them instead, her three
nearest moving with her seamlessly, although it was rather difficult to walk
with three warriors clinging to her. Her left arm still bled profusely from the
Black’s mark, so she lifted it to Bane’s mouth. “Drink,
na’lanna
Blood, all you can hold. It should help.”

Dharman gave the other Blood a steadying
hand while he drank her sacrifice. Now that the most severe threats had ended,
she let the Silver Lake flow gently through each warrior, seeking any remaining
injury or weakness that she could ease.

Fueled by her blood, the last of Bane’s
injuries faded until he could stand straight and strong once more. “Last is
first this time.” He smiled, although the skin remained tight at his eyes and
he pressed his forehead against hers a moment, his proud, strong body shaking
against her. “For that alone, it was worth any injury.”

:We
must discuss ways to ensure this never happens again.:
Shannari used Dharman’s bond, but she felt all nine so strongly in her mind
that they all likely heard.
:My enemies
knew only too well how to strike you all down, and I can’t bear to cause you
such agony again.:

:I
can provide defense from the air,:
the Black Dragon
whispered. She had the sensation of a massive beast flopped negligently on his
back, basking in the pearly glow of moonlight.
:I’ll breathe poison on any who dare come near you.:

She ignored him and tended to the other
two Blood, although she knew he must feel the tightening of dread in her
stomach and the frantic patter of her heart. Her palms dampened and she touched
the black
rahke
on her hip uneasily.
No
rahke
would drive this beast from
her—not when he now carried her bond.

Her father approached, his meticulous
uniform torn and streaked with blood and dirt. “Daughter, your allies await
you.”

Snow began blowing within her, cold
stinging ice of fury. She laughed harshly. “Oh, yes, my allies! Of course, how
thoughtless of me to make them wait while I tend to my personal guard who
nearly died to the man to save me from my most trusted allies’ deadly schemes.”

Dharman kept her elbow and the two Blood
behind her kept a hand each in the small of her back as they glided silently
with her. She cast her gaze over the remaining Council and soldiers, taking
stock of who still stood.

Phillip trembled violently but he was
alive, which surprised her. She’d been sure he was plotting with King Challon.
The North Forest and Planzio armies had been completely devastated, not a
single forest-green or red-striped uniformed man remained standing. Benton of
Far Illione remained as well, but she was nearly as sure that he was involved,
if not in this direct plot, then he’d plotted with his son to bring the Keldari
influence to her. Percy had been so evil he’d sent her internal alarms blazing
with urgency.

:Breathe
deeply, brightheart. Give me this man’s scent and I’ll tell you if he’s known
to me.:

She felt no deception from the Black, so
she stepped as close to Benton as Dharman dared and took a deep lungful of air.

:I
don’t know this man, but he’s dressed as a Far Illione trader. I eliminated one
like him, the one who brought your message.:

She focused on the Black’s bond,
demanding to see the memory of this man he admitted to killing.
:You killed a Green Lander?:

She clearly saw Percy in his mind, the
curved blade sinking into his abdomen.
:Have
you killed anyone else?:

:This
trader betrayed you, so why should he not die?:

:
You
gave him the oil, so why should I trust
you?:
she retorted.

She felt a wave of darkness from him,
hunger, fire, blazing skin, dragons entwined and writhing like a nest of
snakes, frantic in their mating frenzy.
:Did
you not enjoy my gift?:

Shuddering, she pushed the memory of
blazing, oil-slicked skin away and turned her attention to the men quaking
before her. As far as she could tell, the Black Dragon didn’t know Benton, not
if he admitted to killing her messenger. Surely if the Keldari savage was able
to deceive her, he would have hidden that tidbit to avoid her anger and
distrust.

“My Council.” Her voice crackled with
ice, sharp with disdain. “My trusted advisers. You swore on the Great Seal to
support me as High Queen, to govern Our Blessed Lady’s Green Lands in my
absence, and to work for the common good of all. Yet you’ve done nothing but
plot to assassinate me in secrecy. When that failed, some of you,” she toed
Challon’s dead body, rolling him over with her foot so the others could see the
twisted rictus on his face, “decided to kill me openly. You took advantage of
enemies from without to kill me from within.”

She smiled, her eyes flaring, and
Phillip gasped. He clutched his cheek and blood trickled between his fingers.

:Gently,
na’lanna
,:
Dharman soothed.
:Not all are guilty.:

:How
can I know?:
Despair choked her, even while her fury
clawed higher. The White Dragon screamed inside her, stronger than ever. Had
the bond with the Black given her Dream even greater strength?
:How can I ever trust them again?:

The Black Dragon purred with great
enjoyment. Was he smug because she had no one left to trust? Or was he still
basking in his victory? She braced herself and dipped her mind into the murky
darkness of his bond again. Indeed, the beast sprawled contentedly in her mind,
reveling in her blood, but she felt his pain, too. She burned inside him like first
dawn through the darkest hour of night, and he drank that pain as eagerly as
he’d taken her blood.
:There is a way.:

Blood. Of course.

Dharman steeled against her but didn’t
make an immediate rejection. She allowed the pros and cons of such a decision run
through her mind, letting him watch her thought process. If she had a blood
bond with each of her Council, she would know their thoughts and intentions.
She would be able to feel their location. After so many years of deliberately
trying to lock out her Blood, she could hold these new bonds and ignore them
indefinitely…until need drove her to use them and search her Council’s heart.

:I
would not give them my blood.:

He relaxed a tiny bit, yet she knew he
didn’t like the idea of so many bonds carried within her.

:If
my First objects, I’ll find another way.:

His bond melted, glowing as brightly as
a smithy’s forge.
:Do as you will,
na’lanna
. I trust you without question.:

“An oath of fealty is no longer enough
to hold a seat on my Council. Anyone who wishes to earn my trust and ear, to
sit on my Council and advise me on matters of our republic’s security, may
offer their blood to me. Know this: if you give me your blood, you give me your
heart and most secret thoughts. At my discretion, I will search your heart and
soul for any trace of deception, and if I find any hint of Shadow…”

She tapped the hilt of her
rahke
and her Blood must have done
something very similar. Each Green Lander went sheet white.

Phillip whimpered and fell to his knees.
“I’m too terrified of you to betray you, Your Majesty.”

She smiled more genuinely. “I won’t bite
you, Phillip. Simply use your blade and make a small wound on your hand.
Nothing extravagant or deadly, I assure you. But I will have your blood and
your oath or I’ll turn you out of Shanhasson.”

He cut his palm with an awkward swipe,
held up his bleeding hand, and averted his face. As gently and politely as
possible, she sipped his blood. Her stomach quivered, shocking her so badly
that she almost whirled away and heaved. All these years, she’d assumed her
thirst for blood was merely proof of the Shadow she carried in her heart, when
in reality, the only blood she craved was
na’lanna’s.

From day one, she’d hungered for
Dharman’s and Sal’s blood. They’d tasted as good as they smelled, where this
man reeked of sour fear and sweat, his blood merely coppery and salty in her
mouth. She took as little as possible and stepped back, her stomach rebelling.
Lady above, how many more would actually offer his blood to her? Could she possibly
gag it down? Was it truly worth it?

She hadn’t taken enough of Phillip’s
blood to receive his thoughts, but his emotions flickered through the small
chain she’d locked upon him. Fear, definitely. The man’s teeth chattered
helplessly and he soiled himself. As she filtered through his memories, she
clearly saw King Challon’s offer, and Phillip’s tearful and adamant refusal.
He’d spoken honestly: he was too terrified of her power to ever risk her
displeasure.

One by one, she endured a few swallows
of her Council’s blood, until she came to Benton.

Sweat rolled down his face, his gaze
flying from her to the Blood to the other pale but sworn Council members, and
finally, to the Gates.

“Open the Gates!” Shannari shouted to
the soldiers on the wall.

Her Blood immediately pressed tighter,
but she calmly walked toward the massive iron and wood barrier as it creaked
open. She knew she had blood on her mouth and chin but she didn’t care. She was
dirty, bloody, and soul weary, and if these savages wanted to come rushing into
Shanhasson on a burning rampage, let them. She’d drown them all with a thought.

They must have seen the power hovering
in her and the absolute lack of fear or hesitation in her gaze. As one, the
three
tals
inclined their heads to
her, touching their forehead, heart, and mouth while muttering something in
their language.

She turned around, deliberately giving
them her back. She stared at Benton. “Swear on your blood or leave Shanhasson
immediately. Send me another ambassador from your land who’s willing to swear
on his or her blood and I’ll accept them in your place.” She raised her voice
so that all in the courtyard heard her words. “The North Forest and Pella may
send me new representatives likewise, but be prepared to swear on your blood! I
won’t be betrayed by my own again!”