The D'Karon Apprentice (40 page)

Myranda took a slow breath. “What matters is
the truth, Grustim. We were sent here to find it and to offer what
help we could to the people who need it. I can assure you that
Queen Caya, myself, and
all
who have a stake in the
continued prosperity of the Northern Alliance have no interest in
further combat. We will return to the front only to defend
ourselves. But whatever happens will happen. What matters is that
we find the person responsible for all of this and stop her before
she can hurt anyone else or do any more damage.”

The footsteps of the returning soldiers
echoed down the hall.

“And if it is found that war is inevitable.
How far does your dedication extend?”

“I will not leave that woman loose in your
kingdom, and I will not allow her to escape justice if it is
deserved.”

Grustim stared at her evenly. “On this
matter, we are of one mind.”

The soldiers reached them, the jailer holding
the thin booklet. He presented it to Grustim.

“Thank you. Well done,” Grustim said. He
flipped the pad open and reviewed the recent messages. As he did,
he addressed Myranda one final time. “Your dragon has been… trying.
Is there anything you might suggest that would make her somewhat
more willing to behave?”

Myranda grinned. “I don’t suppose you have
any potatoes.”

“They are not a crop cultivated this far
south, and certainly not among the provisions of this stronghold,”
replied the jailer.

“I keep a few in my bag. If you offer one to
her, she’ll know it is from me. It might make her behave
herself.”

Grustim nodded again. “Something to keep in
mind, should she become destructive again.” He paused on one of the
pages of the pad, a more serious expression flickering briefly
across his face.

“If you are prepared, the commander has been
anxiously awaiting your return, Rider,” said his footman
escort.

The Dragon Rider turned to the men. He held
the pad in his hand, its pages facing Myranda. He subtly tapped the
page, which described the attack on the capital. She read the
words, though through a force of will he couldn’t help but admire,
Myranda managed to keep an even expression.

“I suppose I’d best not keep him waiting any
longer,” Grustim said, closing the pad and pocketing it.

#

When Grustim was led back into Brustuum’s
quarters, he found a meal had been set out. Like the quarters
themselves, the meal was simple by most standards and extravagant
by the standards of a soldier. It was stewed vulture, a delicacy in
so much as any reasonably fresh meat was a rarity for those
stationed in a desert stronghold, and vulture was among the only
beasts that might venture near enough to the keep’s walls to be
hunted during the day. The smell of the dish was a unique one, as
the greens were a combination of the tenacious and strong-scented
herbs that could be gathered from the dunes, and various dried
vegetables and fruits from the stronghold’s stores. The combination
of such bizarre and potent ingredients made for an aroma that was
not only powerful, it was barely tolerable.

“Ah, well timed, Grustim. I thought it
appropriate that we share a meal while we complete our
discussions.”

Grustim took a seat and looked firmly at
Brustuum.

“I appreciate the hospitality, Commander. At
present my curiosity exceeds my appetite, but I assure you I will
partake when the mood strikes.”

“Very well. You’ll forgive me if I take my
meal while we speak.”

“Do as you will.”

Brustuum dipped his spoon into the bowl. “Now
where were we?”

“You were curiously intent on preventing me
from tracking down your runner to save him the time and effort of
delivering bad information.”

“Ah yes. It should be no concern to you if my
messenger does not carry the newest information. Instead, I would
suggest you take careful note of my recommendations, then deliver
the message of both the capture of the nobles and the nature of the
attack directly to the capital, with information to disregard the
runner’s message. The messenger will not mind. My men are quite
accustomed to desert exercises.”

Grustim nodded. “So it would seem.”

Brustuum paused in chewing. “… Your tone
suggests there is more to that observation than the words
imply.”

“If I remember correctly, you say the
prisoner escaped, and thus this disaster occurred, at noon.”

“Indeed.”

“And you lost only five men.”

“That is correct.”

“Out of over fifty.”

“Yes. Is there a point to this
reiteration?”

“Most of your keep is devastated. There are
still piles of rubble blocking many passageways. How is it possible
that only seven men were badly injured, and only five of them
killed? At noon in a desert stronghold I would have expected the
bulk of the soldiers to be indoors.”

“My men are on field rotation. For five to
ten days at a time.”

“Where do these men go, and how far?”

“It varies. During our more recent maneuvers
we were searching for, and eventually found, the woman who would go
on to commit this heinous attack upon the base.”

“And the current low complement of troops at
this base is due to that?”

“It is.”

“So you did not see value in recalling a
squad of troops searching for a woman who you had already found.
Despite the very real possibility that she would be armed with
tactics that would make her difficult to contain.”

Brustuum growled. “We had no way of knowing
the woman’s capacity.”

“You described her as having decimated a
nomadic settlement. One must assume there was
some
indication of her capacity there.”

“I
do not
appreciate your tone,
Rider.”

“And I don’t appreciate being lied to,
Commander. Let me tell you what I believe. I believe you wish to
dissuade me from finding your runner to the north because there
is
no runner to the north. At this moment, in your stable,
there are
two
messenger falcons awaiting messages to
deliver, and two roosts for them to do their waiting. If none were
available when you first apprehended the woman, then certainly at
least
one
of them had been available shortly after. And if
not that, then surely in the day since the attack you would have
dispatched one to request aid. Instead they both sit, unused.”

“You assume too much…”

“It seems assumptions are all I have. I know
for certain that some of your claims are lies, and until I am able
to determine otherwise, I shall be forced to assume that any of
what you’ve said could be untrue. The only evidence I have that you
haven’t simply fabricated the entire story is the fact that the
duchess, through means of her own, has received word of a woman
matching the description you gave. That woman attacked their
capital, which I think you’ll agree is a curious action for someone
we are to believe is acting on their behalf.”

“How has the duchess received a message? And
how
dare
you believe her but disbelieve me.”

“I do not take her word as gospel, Commander,
but at least she hasn’t told a lie to my face that could be easily
disproved. Tell me. If I were to take to the sky and find the
remainder of your men on their maneuvers before you can contact
them, how much of what they say will corroborate what you’ve
said?”

Brustuum clenched his fist around his spoon,
brandishing it as if it were a knife. “You would enter
my
quarters and accuse
me
of such things? You would call me a
liar to my
face!
”

“You are a liar at best, Commander. But that
much I can abide. What stings me most is that you are inept even at
that. You insult me by imagining I could not see through such hasty
untruths. You claim to have lost over a dozen prisoners and yet I
see no graves. Would you have me believe that those men are still
within the ruins, baking in the desert heat without my knowledge?
You are hiding things, Commander. You’ve been locked away in this
stronghold too long, surrounded by people who are unwilling or
unable to question your authority. It has given you the impression
that you are infallible and beyond the reach of repercussion. I
assure you, you are neither. Your inadequacy and poor decisions
have certainly cost the lives of your men and may have cost the
peace of our nation.”

The commander slammed down his good fist,
spilling the contents of his bowl across the table.

“This is an utter outrage, and if you believe
that I will stand idle while you make baseless accusations, you are
sadly mistaken.”

“My accusations are hardly baseless, and
standing idle is precisely what I expect you to do. I am at once a
diplomatic escort, a military officer with a rank equivalent to
yours, and above all, a Dragon Rider. No one with a head on his
shoulders has ever willingly defied the will of a Dragon
Rider.”

“And now you threaten me?”

“I am merely informing you of what you seem
to have forgotten. I would recommend you explain the irregularities
of your story so that we might deal with them appropriately. My
chief concern is why you failed to inform your commanders of the
capture in the more than adequate time you had to do so.”

“Men!” Brustuum bellowed.

Two armed soldiers entered, weapons
ready.

“This man has confessed a greater loyalty to
our enemies to the north than to his own kingdom,” Brustuum stated,
causing both men to brandish their weapons warily. Brustuum stood
painfully and glared down at Grustim. “You have forgotten something
as well,
Rider
. You may be a Dragon Rider, but you’ve sent
your dragon away. And in siding with the duke and duchess, you have
labeled yourself a traitor. Undeserving of mercy, worthy only of
the swift execution that your crimes have earned you. Footmen, do
your—”

“Commander, before you make the latest in a
long line of tactical errors, I suggest you take a moment to
consider what will occur
when
my dragon returns to find me
killed. You have a fraction of your men, most of them injured, and
a badly damaged keep. Garr is an impeccably trained dragon mount in
prime condition. A dragon is not a horse, Commander. It will not
remain docile and await a new Rider. He and I are brothers in arms,
partnered for battle for years. He will be furious, and there is
but one way for a dragon to deal with such matters. I wouldn’t
favor your odds even if your stronghold was at full strength.”

Brustuum hesitated. “We have been
trained
to deal with dragons.”

Having blades pointed at him seemed to have
expended what little patience and restraint Grustim had left. “How
stupid
do you honestly believe I am, Commander? Your men
thought they could lock the duchess’s dragon away in a
stable!
They needed
my
help just to keep her inside!
And even with the best training, which you most assuredly do not
have, you aren’t
equipped
to deal with dragons. The
only
way you and your men will survive this is if you stop
this foolishness and tell the truth.”

The commander stood as defiantly as he could
with the injuries he’d suffered. Both of his men remained loyal and
resolute, awaiting his next order.

“You are incorrect, Dragon Rider. You shall
not be killed. You shall be captured. And when your dragon returns,
you shall order him to destroy the Alliance dragon. You will do all
that we say, or you will be killed. Is that understood?”

Grustim stood, unintimidated and unimpressed.
“That the fate of nations could have fallen into the hands of a man
such as you makes me wonder if the gods have grown weary of us.” He
crossed his hands behind his back. “Take me prisoner, if you
believe it will do you some good. But while you await Garr’s
return, I urge you to take stock of the situation and reassess your
decisions. I do not know all that you’ve done, but I know enough to
be certain that you’ve committed a number of heinous deeds and that
you are quite likely hiding things far worse. When the time comes,
I’ll do my best to keep you alive long enough to answer for what
you’ve done.”

“You are a boastful and arrogant fool,
Grustim. If you are representative of the other Dragon Riders, it
sickens me to think of the reverence that is wasted on you.”
Brustuum turned to his men. “Confiscate his armor and weapons,
investigate everything you find, and throw him in a cell. Bind him
and gag him as well. I do not know how the Riders command their
dragons, but I do not want him issuing any orders unless under my
command and supervision. You have your orders.”

Grustim allowed himself to be removed from
the room, leaving Brustuum to dig through his liquor cabinet in
search of his bottle.

#

Myn lay in the stable, enjoying the warmth
but increasingly displeased by the absence of Myranda and Deacon.
She amused herself by locking a soldier in her gaze until he became
visibly anxious at the stare. The people of Kenvard had become
comfortable with her presence. Some of the children were even bold
enough to scamper about her feet or try to climb on her back when
she was padding through the streets. Though she would much rather
be alone with Myranda, or grudgingly sharing her with Deacon, there
was some measure of enjoyment at being a part of the lives of so
many humans… at least until she grew weary of it. But these
soldiers reminded her of the way the Kenvardians
had
behaved, when they had first met her. And the way most other people
still did. A dash of fascination tempered with a torrent of fear.
In the face of the people Myranda seemed to care about, such
emotions were unwelcome to Myn. In the face of those who seemed to
mean her only harm, it was quite rewarding to inspire such
intimidation.