The Fire Dragon (50 page)

Admi said nothing. He was staring over Verrarc's shoulder with a peculiar expression on his face, half contempt, half fear. When Verrarc turned around, he saw Raena in a long Horsekin-style leather dress, her head bound in green cloth, walking briskly toward him with Rakzan Kral. Behind them came a Horsekin warrior, carrying a ceremonial staff. Kral himself carried naught but a table dagger at his belt.

“The gall of the bitch,” Admi murmured.

Verrarc wondered if he were about to disgrace himself and weep. Fortunately Kral turned and said a few words to Raena that made her stop walking. She and the guard waited a good distance away while Kral hurried over to Admi and Verrarc.

“I mayn't command the priestess,” were the first words Kral spoke. “My apologies, Councilman Verrarc.”

“No offense taken,” Verrarc said. “I never could control her either.”

Verrarc turned on his heel and strode off to the other side of the booths. Raena never came near him, not for the entire long afternoon.

Although the clouds grew darker, the rain held off throughout the Deciding. At various times one of the coun-cilmen or some of the militia would slip off to eat, then return. Slowly the line of citizens crept up the hill. Eventually, when the sun was turning the clouds in the west a dull gold, Verrarc realized that the line had become a scatter of citizens, waiting on the plaza edge.

“I do think the most of our folk have cast their markers,” Verrarc said. “Good. When the last be done, we'll be moving into the shelter of the Council House to count them, and the rain will be of no import.”

Rhodry had spent the day guarding Carra and her child. Early on the princess had grown weary of the stark Council House and the plaza. For a while they visited with Jahdo's mother and her sister, Sirri, the town midwife, until the talk of babies in general and Elessario in particular made Rhodry wonder if men truly could die of boredom. Fortunately for him, both older women had work to attend to, and about midafternoon he escorted Carra back to the elven camp on the lakeshore. Vantalaber, the pale-haired captain of the archers, came hurrying to meet them.

“I kept a watch on the gates,” Val said. “Raena and her swinish rakzan came through around noon.”

“Did she now?” Rhodry laughed, a hard berserker howl that made Val wince. “I'm looking forward to tonight. Things may turn interesting.”

While Carra and the child rested inside the royal tent, Rhodry sat outside the door with Lightning, Carra's dog, for a second guard. The dog slept and Rhodry drowsed, his hand on the hilt of his sword, but neither Raena nor Horsekin came near. Toward sunset Carra carried the baby outside and told him she'd decided to rejoin her husband up on the public square.

“The citizens ought to be all done soon,” Carra said. “I want to see how the council members count the markers out.”

“With tally marks, I suppose,” Rhodry said.

“No doubt, but that's not what I meant.” Her pretty little face had gone thoughtful. “I wonder if they count big lots in twenties, as we do, or in twelves.”

“Twelves? Who would do that?”

“Farmers and suchlike do it all the time. I've always thought that they must have preserved the ancient customs of their ancestors, who were bondfolk, you see, or truly I mean, the people our ancestors turned into bondfolk. And now I've got a chance to find out. If Cerr Cawnen uses twelves, then I'll know that such was the original way of counting in this country.”

Rhodry managed to smile, but he was wondering if she were a bit daft, to trouble herself over such things.

They found a coracle, and he paddled them across the lake under a dark sky. Sylphs emerged from the water, pale blue and green, stretching out slender hands as they crowded around the boat. At the sight Elessi gurgled and flapped her chubby hands in their direction.

“Oh, now, what is it?” Carra said. “There's naught there.”

Elessi ignored her and made the little panting sound of a baby just learning to laugh. One bold sylph leaned into the boat and touched a wisp of her golden hair. A drop of water ran down her chubby forehead.

“Ah!” Carra said. “It must be starting to rain. A drop fell on Elessi.”

Rhodry smiled and said nothing. In a few moments the sylphs dove back into the lake and disappeared, melding again with the water. Just as they reached the island, however, a few drops of real rain spattered on Citadel's narrow shore.

“We'd best hurry,” Rhodry said. “The storm's going to break, I'll wager.”

The rain held off for a while more. Rhodry carried the baby as they climbed the steep path to the plaza, and Lightning trotted ahead, tail held high and wagging. When they reached the top, Kiel, still in his militia armor, hurried over to meet them. Only a few townsfolk still waited near
the booths. At the public well, Daralanteriel, Dallandra, and Zatcheka stood talking together.

“Rori,” Kiel said. “I'll have to ask you for that sword.” “Right you are.” Rhodry handed the baby back to Carra. “My apologies. I'm as used to its weight as most men are to their brigga, I suppose.” He unbuckled his belt, slid the scabbard off, and handed it to Kiel. “Take good care of that, will you?”

“I'll give it to Dallandra to carry for you.” Carra had kept walking, heading for her husband, but when Rhodry called to her, she waited for him to catch up. The militiamen had gathered round the booths, ready to take the jugs inside and dismantle the shelter. Four council members stood in a little huddle near the table and talked, but Verrarc had gone elsewhere. Rhodry could see the glow of a fire or perhaps lanterns through the windows of the Council House. All at once Carra yelped and pointed. At her side her wolfish dog growled and bared teeth.

About halfway between the well and the Council House stood Rakzan Kral, a Horsekin guard, and Raena, tricked out in Horsekin finery. Although she wore no kirtle round her buckskin dress, Rhodry noticed her green head wrap, so bulky and heavy-seeming that it might well hide more than hair.

“Carra,” Rhodry whispered. “Be brave. I think we can catch ourselves a raven if you don't mind pretending to be a little bird on her nest.”

“What? I—oh wait! I do see what you mean.” Carra shifted Elessario's weight in her arms and held the child upright. Elessi obliged by grabbing a strand of her mother's hair in one hand and leaning over Carra's shoulder. Rhodry walked a little behind her as she strolled slowly over to the well. He could see Raena, walking a few steps toward Carra, then stopping, watching her from a distance—too far for Rhodry to see her expression, elven sight or no. Rakzan Kral laid a hand on Raena's arm and leaned close to speak to her. Rhodry let Carra get several paces ahead of him. Raena shook Kral's hand off, but she stood where she was.

Someone came out of the Council House and hurried over to the group by the well—Niffa, Rhodry realized, and she was carrying a wooden cup in one hand, as if she were going to fetch someone water. She saw Carra and waved.

“Carra!” Niffa called out. “I did wonder when you'd be back.”

Smiling, Carra hurried over to join her friend. Rhodry kept pace at his distance. He saw Raena reach up to her headdress; he went on guard. Sure enough, she pulled something free—or did she? When she lowered her hand it seemed empty, but then, her dress had long sleeves. Did she know that he was watching her? Rhodry wondered. Carra joined her husband, and Raena turned, gesturing to Kral to follow, and walked away from the group round the well.

The rain began, splattering on the stone paving of the square. Distantly lightning flickered, and thunder rolled in the western sky. The councilmen began rushing back and forth, yelling orders at the militiamen, grabbing the jugs full of markers. Dar called to his men and trotted over to help; Zatcheka sent her guards, then hurried toward the Council House and shelter. Another roll of thunder, nearer this time, and the rain began in earnest. Rhodry saw Niffa and Carra, with the baby in her arms, hurrying toward the Council House. He took off running and caught up with them just as Raena made her move.

“Alshandra!” Raena howled out the name, then darted forward. A dagger flashed in her hand. “Take your daughter back!”

Carra screamed and lurched to one side, only to slip on the wet cobbles and fall backwards with the child clasped in her arms. The baby began to howl. Raena leapt, the dagger held high, but the dog could leap faster and high enough. With a low growl Lightning sprang and grabbed her wrist in his jaws. Raena fell half on top of him and began to shriek. The dagger clattered onto the cobbles. Rhodry kicked it out of her reach and seized the dog's collar in both hands.

“Lightning!” Carra yelled. “Down! Let her go!”

The dog obeyed. Rhodry released him, then grabbed Raena's uninjured arm and hauled her up. Blood ran from
her gashed wrist, but Lightning's fangs had closed from the side onto bone and missed the big blood vessels. She whimpered, holding up the injured wrist.

“It be broken,” Raena whined. “Let me go, for the pain does vex me to the soul.”

“Hold still!” Rhodry snapped. He shook her for good measure. “Or you'll bleed the worse.”

Raena turned docile, sobbing and gasping for breath, but Rhodry twisted her good arm around behind her back and pinned her against his chest. The militiamen rushed over, the councilmen pushed their way through, Dar fell onto his knees beside Carra. Everyone was talking at once.

“I'm all right,” Carra said over and over. “So is Elessi.”

Niffa stooped and picked up the dagger.

“She did carry a weapon,” Niffa said. “She did wish to murder at the Deciding.”

“So she did.” Admi took the dagger from her. “This be a grave and serious thing. Inside, everyone! We'll not be able to think in all this rain. Sergeant Gart! The urns! Get your men inside and guard the urns!”

Dar helped Carra up, then took the sobbing Elessi and cradled her in his arms. In the milling confusion Rhodry looked around for Rakzan Kral and found him standing back by the Council House wall. He looked stunned, his mouth half-open, his hands spread wide as if in disbelief. Rhodry was just considering speaking to him when Raena suddenly went limp in his grasp, falling forward as if she were fainting. Without thinking he let go her arm lest he break it. She twisted away, shoved him off-balance, somehow kept her feet and ran.

“Stop her!” Rhodry yelled.

The crowd around began shouting. Rhodry took out after her, but in the driving rain the soles of his riding boots had gone slick as lard. He slipped on the cobbles, righted himself, and realized that he'd lost her. It seemed she'd melted away into the shadows and the gathering twilight.

“Dalla!” Rhodry called out. “Is it dweomer?”

“Of a sort.” Dallandra came running up. “But she can't
disappear into Evandar's country without the help of her beastly fox-spirit. We've got a chance to find her.”

Rhodry felt himself howling with laughter. The militia, the townsfolk, the councilmen—they all mobbed around. Admi yelled for silence and at last got it.

“If she be a murderess, then our laws have somewhat to say to her,” Admi bellowed to the crowd. “My fellow citizens! Find her! Bring her here to justice!”

The townsfolk cheered with spontaneous joy. Only then did Rhodry realize just how much they had hated Raena. Nearby Verrarc stood with his head bowed, praying to some god, perhaps, or perhaps simply staring at the stones in an utter exhaustion of will. When Rhodry strode over, Verrarc neither raised his head nor spoke.

“You know where she'll hide, don't you?” Rhodry said. “Tell me. Spare us all the trouble of tearing this town apart searching for her, and you'll do yourself a good turn, too. If you want to stay on the council, that is.”

Verrarc raised his head and looked at him with eyes that might have been made of glass, so little feeling did they show.

“We'll find her in the end anyway,” Rhodry went on. “The gates are closed, and she'll not get out.”

Verrarc said nothing. Rhodry was about to argue some more when Dallandra grabbed his arm.

“Come with me.”

“But—”

“Come with me!” Dallandra tossed her head, and her silvery hair seemed to snap with life and power. “Leave him alone.”

Rhodry allowed himself to be led away out of earshot. When he glanced back, he saw Verrarc standing where they'd left him, staring out at nothing.

“Rori, be reasonable!” Dallandra snapped. “He's only flesh and blood, not steel. Besides, I've scryed her out.”

“Oh.” Rhodry paused for a smile. “My apologies. I should have known you'd be able to find her. Where is she?”

“In the ruins of that temple thing. Where you and Arzosah were camping.”

Yelling at Kiel to follow, Rhodry took off running. At the edge of the plaza he glanced back and saw that Kiel was bringing five more militiamen with him. He paused to let them catch up.

“I hope there's no back way out of the ruins,” Rhodry said.

“I ken it not,” Kiel said. “But here, Stone! Go round the back and guard any path you find there.”

Stumbling on the uneven ground Rhodry hurried downhill to the heap of rubble, then stopped, peering around for an entrance. He found at last what seemed to be a tunnel mouth. As he headed for it, with the militiamen right behind, he heard a strange sound from inside. All at once a shrike burst free in a flash of black-and-white wings. Right behind it came a red hawk that gave one harsh cry as it leapt into the air and flew after. Both birds were so huge that every man there knew that they had to be shape-changers. Kiel swore under his breath.

“The bitch!” Rhodry snarled. “She may have flown, lads.”

Still, neither bird had been a raven. He ran over to the entrance gaping between huge stones and peered in. When he saw the firm ground just below, he scrambled inside, half-stepping, half-sliding. Rhodry had always been able to see uncommonly well in the dark, and in a few heartbeats his eyes could pick out the shape of the structure around him. He trotted down the tunnel and heard, off to one side, the sound of a woman weeping. A broken doorway loomed. He stepped in and saw Raena, huddled against the wall in a pool of silver light. She clasped her injured wrist against her chest.

“So,” Rhodry said. “The raven can't fly? What a pity.”