The Dragon Society (Obsidian Chronicles Book 2) (35 page)

Black did not reply at first, but simply stared at Arlian.

Arlian stared back, then realized the situation.

Black wanted an explanation, not just orders. He was no bora servant, like Venlin, but his own man, who stayed in Arlian's employ because he had taken a fancy to Arlian, not because he had ever aspired to be the steward of a great house.

And for months, Arlian had told Black far too little of what was going on. It was time to end that.

"Ah," Arlian said. "The Duke's chamberlain accepted my message, but His Grace was not disposed to read it as yet. Seeing the messenger in Enziet's livery was what reminded me about the house."

Black nodded. "I was beginning to think that keeping secrets had become a habit."

Arlian smiled crookedly. "I believe it has," he said.

"I depend on you to help me break it. If you think I'm concealing something you deserve to know, please do speak up—I don't want to keep secrets from you any longer, Black. I've had enough of secrets. It's time to let them all out."

Black smiled in return. "In that case, I think you should expect a late night tonight—there are several questions I intend to ask."

"As you please—but do send word to Coin first, and to Ferrezin"

Black bowed mockingly.

Arlian returned to his guests, and made polite conversation for another hour or so before seeing Rime to the door and calling the coach for her. Hasty had already gone to put Vanniari to bed, with Wolt carrying Hasty and Stammer carrying the baby, but the other women continued to talk.

Arlian did not join them; when Rime had departed he turned to find Black waiting for him. The two men retired to Arlian's study, where Arlian finally told Black, in detail, what had happened to Enziet beneath the Desolation; what had happened when Arlian washed his hands after Nail's death; what had been said at the hearing in the hall of the Dragon Society.

Black took it all in, then asked, "What happens now?"

"I don't know," Arlian said. "I don't know what the dragons are planning, or what the Dragon Society is planning. I don't know what
anyone
is planning, not even myself! I don't know whether the dragons will attack this summer, or cower in their caverns. All I know is that sooner or later, the dragons and I will meet-and when we do, I want to be ready."

"So you want those spears."

"Yes."

"Why do you think the Duke tried to take them—so he would have them, or so you or your heir would not?"

"I don't know. That's the major reason I want to speak to him."

Black nodded. "Ari," he asked, "how big is a dragon? A full-grown one, I mean, not like the one we killed in Nail's bedchamber."

"Big," Arlian said. "I couldn't say for certain. I haven't seen one since I was a boy of eleven, and the circumstances at the time did not allow for a very accurate estimate."

"Fifty feet from snout to tail-tip, perhaps?"

"More," Arlian replied. "A dragon's face filled almost the entire pantry door, top to bottom and side to side, and their proportions are roughly those of a winged serpent."

"And to kill one, you need to drive an obsidian blade into its heart"

"Yes."

For a moment both men were silent, but then Black asked die question both of them knew he would ask.

"Ari, your best spears are perhaps eight feet long. If you stood at a dragon's flank and drove one that full eight feet into the beast's flesh, would it
reach
the creature's heart? And how do you ever expect to get close enough to do anything of the sort?"

"I think it would reach, from the right angle," Arlian said slowly. "Dragons are very long, but slender."

"And how would you get close enough?"

"I don't know," Arlian admitted.

"And you don't even know whether obsidian
can
kill an adult Belly didn't think so."

"The dragon that spoke to me seemed to think it could."

"Did it
say
so
T

"Would it matter if it did? We can't believe anything the dragons tell us."

"And how many dragons still survive?"

"I don't know. I can't really even guess."

Black said nothing, just looked at him, and Arlian continued, "Although it may well be overtaken by events, my original plan was to creep up on the dragons in their caves and plunge the spears into them while they slept"

"Drive a spear
several feet
into a monster while it sleeps? While its companions are in the same chamber?"

"There will undoubtedly be difficulties" Arlian said.

Black stared silently at him for a moment. Arlian let out a sigh. "Yes, I'm probably mad," he said. "It may well be impossible."

"It would seem to require rather more than human abilities, yes," Black said dryly.

Arlian blinked.

"Yes, it would, wouldn't it?" he said. He had somehow managed to not think very much about this until now, much as he had not thought about how he would defeat Toribor before the duel. While he still thought it might be possible to kill sleeping dragons, it now seemed obvious that getting at a dragon while it was awake
would
take more than human abilities—and he no longer thought it very likely that he could catch the dragons asleep.

Fortunately, more-than-human abilities were available. "I suppose it would take magic," he said.

Black's eyes narrowed.

"Is there magic that could help?"

"I don't know," Arlian admitted. "But I think that it's past time that Isein and the others made a buying trip to Arithei. I put it off because I had thought it might be better to cross the Desolation in cooler weather, but I think now that no more time should be wasted." He frowned. "Tell Isein to start planning what she will need for the journey."

Arlian awoke the next day to news that His Grace the Duke of Manfort would expect him at the Citadel the following day, at two hours past noon.

"I didn't expect it so soon!" he told Black at breakfast. "I had heard that it could take a fortnight to see the Duke."

"It would seem Lady Rime was right," Black said.

"His Grace
does
like you."

"Or he wants to confront me directly and demand I turn over the obsidian," Arlian said.

"Also a possibility," Black admitted. "Will Lord Hardior be present at your audience?"

"I don't know," Arlian said. He grew thoughtful. "I think I had best pay a call on Lord Hardior
today,
before I see the Duke, so that I know where I stand."

"1 think it wise, if it can be arranged," Black agreed.

"I'll arrange it," Arlian said. He beckoned to Wolt, who was standing nearby, and told him, "Fetch me pen and ink—I have a letter to write. And when it's ready, you will deliver it forthwith to Lord Hardior's estate, where you will see it delivered either into Hardior's own hand or, if he is not there, his steward's. If neither is there, you will wait, and make yourself obnoxious about it"

"My lord?" Wolt was plainly startled by this last directive.

"I don't want them to be able to ignore you. Don't let yourself be pushed into a comer and forgotten."

"Yes, my lord." Wolt bowed, then turned and left to fetch writing supplies.

A moment later Arlian began composing his note.

He kept it short:

"Inasmuch as I have recently been taken to task for keeping secrets, I think it urgent that we discuss certain matters before I speak to His Grace the Duke tomorrow. I would not care to inconvenience you by remaining silent when I should not, nor by revealing matters you would prefer to keep private. I will be delighted to wait upon you at your earliest convenience."

He signed it "Obsidian," then folded and sealed it, and handed it to Wolt.

"Off with you," he said. Wolt bowed, and turned to go. "And hurry!" Arlian called after him. Wolt hastened his footsteps, though he did not actually run. Arlian watched him go, then sighed and headed for his regular morning visit to Hasty and Vanniari.

Hasty was as cheerful as ever, and Vanniari growing at a healthy pace—she focused on Arlian's face when he bent over her, and when she did she stopped waving her hands about and stared at him in wonder and awe.

Of course, she stared at
any
human face with that same fascination.

Arlian spoke gently to her, and allowed her to grab an extended finger. He listened to Hasty chatter about the baby, and about how foolish Arlian had been to fight a duel with Lord Belly, and how brave it had been to throw down his sword, and how she didn't believe those people who said Arlian had begged for his life.

Arlian glanced at Hasty. "Who said that?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Oh, you know, people who don't know any better. I heard Stammer and Cricket talking about it.
They
don't believe it, of course, any more than I do."

"Of course." Arlian shook his head, amazed. Beg for his life? Why would he do that?

He had left Hasty and her daughter and was striding along the east gallery on his way to speak to Isein when Wolt came running up to him.

"My lord!" he called, out of breath.

Arlian turned. "Sir," he said. "You delivered my note?"

"He's here!" Wolt gasped.

"Your pardon, Wolt.. "

"Lord Hardior is here, my lord, in the Old Palace,"

Wolt said. "He insisted on coming back with me. He's waiting for you in the foyer."

"Indeed!" Arlian had not expected quite so prompt a response to his threats. 'Take him to the small salon, and I will be there presently."

Wolt bowed, and hurried away.

Arlian watched him go, considering whether there was anything that he should do before meeting Lord Hardior. Nothing came to mind; accordingly, he was already standing in the salon when Wolt showed Hardior in a moment later.

"My lord," Arlian said, holding out a hand. "Welcome to my home, and my thanks for so prompt and unexpected a response to my missive!"

Hardior ignored the outstretched hand. "Unexpected, Obsidian? I doubt that."

"Unexpected in truth, my lord—while I expected you to agree to a meeting, I had thought it would be I who was the guest, and you the host, and that we would meet later in the day."

"1 don't have time for that," Hardior said. He glanced aI Wolt "Might we speak privately?"

"Of course," Arlian said. He gestured to the footman, who quickly left the room, closing the door securely behind him.

"Might I offer you a seat, my lord?" Arlian asked, gesturing at the silk couches.

"I think not," Hardior snapped. "You have an audience with the Duke?"

'Tomorrow afternoon, my lord."

"And just what do you intend to tell him? Are you planning to babble all your supposed secrets?"

Arlian frowned. "My lord, I think your manner is inappropriate. I asked to meet you so that we might avoid any unnecessary conflicts."

"I suppose you mean to make sure that I won't again try to arrange your assassination."

Arlian closed his eyes and let his breath out slowly, then opened them again before speaking.

"Lord Hardior, I am far more interested in learning
why
you sought my death than in preventing a recurrence. I know I am safe from you as long as I remain within Manfort's walls, so my safety is not a significant concern—but I had thought we were on the same side, and the archers on the ramparts were disturbing.

What is it I have done that prompted you to place them there, and to petition the Duke for permission to have me slain?"

Hardior stared at him for a moment, then said, "I had forgotten—you truly are mad. I had thought it would be plain to you."

"It is not." ,

"You threaten to bring the dragons down on us all."

Arlian blinked. "Threaten? My lord, the mere fact that you know this means that in all probability I have
already
brought the dragons down upon us, and they wait only for the weather's cooperation before striking. I hardly see what my death will accomplish
now."

"It may not be too late to stave them off, Obsidian—

but not if you continue to live, to threaten them, to goad them to action with your profligate revelations of their nature, and your distribution of obsidian weapons, and your plans to slaughter their young. I know you better than to think you will abandon your mad schemes of vengeance while you still draw breath—and therefore, I hoped to stop that breath."