The Last Dragonlord (24 page)

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Authors: Joanne Bertin

BOOK: The Last Dragonlord
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She heard Lady Sherrine gasp, heard a male voice she didn’t recognize say, “You’ve gone too far, Lady. Best we get you home.”
She looked up out of her good eye. Lady Sherrine was staring down at her, horrified.
The whip dropped from the noblewoman’s fingers. One of her guards reached for her horse’s reins. Lady Sherrine nodded. Her lips moved soundlessly. The tilted eyes never left Maurynna’s face.
Out of the night beyond the torches came a deep voice as sharp and dangerous as a sword.
“What in the bloody nine hells is going on here?” Linden said.
Leaving his escort in the
street, Linden pushed his horse through the brown-and-gold-clad guards filling the Vanadins’ little courtyard. Otter followed close behind. What were Sherrine’s men doing here? A chill crawled down Linden’s spine.
The men fell back before him in the wavering torchlight. One guard held the reins of Sherrine’s palfrey. The man dropped them and edged away, leaving Sherrine alone.
She brought her horse around to face him. Her eyes were huge in her face; she looked close to fainting. “I didn’t mean to,” she whispered. “Truly, I—”
Linden’s breath froze in his chest. Something had happened to Maurynna. And Sherrine was responsible. He jumped down from the saddle.
Sherrine was wise; she didn’t try to stop him. He ducked past the palfrey.
Maurynna was on her knees on the cobbles. Her hands held one side of her face. Blood covered them. Even as he watched, drops trickled over her bracelets and splashed on the stone.
He stood like one turned to stone. He didn’t trust himself to move. If he did, he would lose control and likely kill someone in his fury. Sherrine had dared to harm his soultwin!
Then he was at Maurynna’s side with a speed that brought gasps from the watchers. Gently he eased her from Maylin’s arms. She came to him, resting her head on his shoulder. Her sobs were barely audible.
“Oh, gods,” Otter said from behind him. “What happened? Who—?”
Maylin, her face salt white, spat outin Thalnian, «Who do you think did it? The sweet-faced bitch who sits there, of
course! She came here, no warrant—none but her bully-boys! —and called Maurynna out. Then she laid Rynna’s face and eye open with that whip.» She pointed to the cobblestones behind him.
Linden looked over his shoulder. A riding whip with a daintily carved handle of bone lay on the cobbles. Its tip was stained with blood. Sickened and burning with rage, he said, “Guards—take your lady home. Lady Sherrine, you will attend me at my residence at the fourth candlemark past dawn tomorrow. Go.”
Elenna came forward. She cradled a sobbing Kella against her shoulder. «Mind your tongue, stupid girl—what if one of her guards understands Thalnian and tells her what you’re saying? Now tend to Maurynna; I’ve got to calm Kella down or she’ll have nightmares all night long.» She held out a folded pad of cloth and a long narrow strip of fabric that Linden suspected were torn from her undergown.
Maylin subsided, looking sullen as she took the makeshift bandage. Her mother went into the house. Linden moved aside, watched Maylin arrange the pad over Maurynna’s eye and tie it in place.
“Thank you,” Maurynna whispered, her voice tight with pain. Her fingers gripped his tunic convulsively.
The ring of hooves on cobblestones told him that Sherrine was leaving—unpunished. She’d harmed Maurynna and he could do nothing. He was cold and sick and frustrated at his helplessness.
Maylin jumped up and ran to the gate, watching the riders disappear. Then she spun around, fists clenched at her side and yelled, “You let her go! You’re a Dragonlord—do something!”
Otter, calm her down—please! She’s upsetting Maurynna.
“Maylin, be quiet,” Otter snapped. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He led her back, Maylin protesting every step.
Linden said,
My gods, but she’s a fierce one for such a little thing, isn’t she?
Otter chuckled in his mind.
Isn’t she, though? I don’t think
it’s a good idea to harm this one’s family. For a moment I thought she’d go for Sherrine.
So did I, and that would have been very bad.
Linden cradled Maurynna against him and called, “Captain Jerrell—send some guards after Lady Sherrine. See that she goes to her home and no other place. Have them watch the house; she is not to leave until tomorrow morning. If she does not come out at the appointed time, bring her to me.”
The captain snapped out an order; some of Linden’s escort split off from the group and rode after Sherrine.
Otter and Maylin reached him, the bard holding Maylin tightly around the shoulders. Maylin dropped to her knees.
“What are you going to do about this? How will you punish Sherrine?” she demanded.
His answer was as bitter as wormwood on his tongue. “I can do nothing,” he said. When Maylin protested, he said, “If Maurynna wishes redress, she must seek it through Cassorin law. And I do not think she will find it.”
He clenched his jaw and said in Otter’s mind,
My soultwin is attacked and I can’t see the one responsible brought to justice. Sherrine should be punished for attacking a Dragonlord. But because I can’t say anything, Cassorin law will slap Sherrine on the wrist—if even that!—and send Maurynna begging.
Otter said
, You’re right of course. You can’t even act too upset—someone might wonder why you care so much. What are you going to do now?
Linden considered
. That wide avenue leading to the palace—the Processional. It’s big enough for me to Change. Then I can use my Healing fire—
Otter made a strangled sound. Are you mad? Gods, this has rattled you worse than I thought! Remember what you said the effect might be if you Change so close to Maurynna—you, her soultwin.
Cold sweat ran down Linden’s back.
Gods have mercy—you’re right. I don’t know if I could control Rathan; he would call to the dragonsoul within her. And that might kill her. Thank you, Otter.
The bard nodded.
Maylin said, “Stop ignoring me. Why should you care for Cassorin law?”
Shaken by how close he’d come to endangering Maurynna, Linden lost his temper. He shouted, “Don’t you understand? I’m one of the Givers of Law. That’s what being a Dragonlord means—not that I can take revenge where it pleases me. We’re the servants of humankind, not their rulers. I can’t flout a country’s laws because I don’t like them. I can’t even give myself the satisfaction of calling out a champion of Sherrine’s in a duel. I may not Challenge; I may only act as a champion.”
Linden bit his tongue. Was he mad, talking of Challenges on Maurynna’s behalf? Neither Maurynna nor Maylin was stupid. Gods, if he wasn’t careful he’d be blurting out why he’d even thought of such a thing.
He said, “Now stop talking nonsense and tell one of my guards to bring me my horse. Maurynna needs a Healer. I’m taking her to the palace.”
He stood up with Maurynna in his arms. “Love,” he whispered, “don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”
“I—I hope so,” Maurynna said. “And please stop fighting over my head as though I weren’t here. It’s giving me a headache.”
But she laughed a little through her sobs, so Linden knew she wasn’t angry. He squeezed her gently. “It will be better soon,” he said, and sighed. It hurt not being able to help his soultwin himself.
A soldier brought his horse and held it. Linden handed Maurynna to Otter, mounted, and took her back. He settled her against himself. “Comfortable?” he asked.
“Well enough,” Maurynna said. Her voice shook. She fiddled with the pad over her eye. “There.”
He wheeled his horse around and rode through the gate. He halted long enough to allow his escort to form up around him once more. The globes of coldfire he’d called up earlier bobbed in the air above them.
Otter ran up beside him. The bard said, “Do you want me to stay with the family?”
“Yes,” Linden said. “That way I can send word to them through you as soon as Maurynna’s Healed..”
Then: I’m not sure I trust Sherrine not to take some sort of revenge on the family once the shock wears off. She might think twice if a bard’s here. And try to talk some sense into Maylin, will you? Or the next time I show my face here she’ll throw something at me.
Otter grinned and blew a kiss at Maurynna.
I wouldn’t doubt it. She’s as bad as a Yerrin about kith and kin. I’ll talk to her.
Linden pushed his horse to walk as fast as it could. Maurynna trembled in his arms. He pulled her closer. Her hands clutched again at his tunic. “Not much farther,” he whispered against her hair, reassuring himself as much as her.
With the escort surrounding them like shadows, they rode quickly through the streets of Casna, golden coldfire lighting the way like a dozen tiny suns. The only sound in the warm night was the ringing of hooves on stone.
They reached the avenue where Linden had thought to Change. He shuddered at how close he’d come to endangering Maurynna.
Thank the gods for Otter’s cool head,
he thought.
At last the palace loomed before them. “Corrise, ride ahead and have them open the gates,” he ordered. One shadow broke away from the others and galloped off.
The gates swung open as they approached. More soldiers in the scarlet of the palace guard waited to take their horses. Linden dismounted, swinging his leg over his horse’s neck and sliding along one hip to the ground. He ignored the questions peppering the air and strode into the palace.
When they were inside, Linden called to the first servant he saw. “Where is Healer Tasha?”
The surprised man said, “She is attending Prince Rann in his rooms, Your Grace.”
“Take me there.”
The servant bowed and set off through the maze of the palace halls. Linden followed close on his heels.
Maurynna lifted her head. She peered around her and shook her head. “Linden, will Tasha be allowed to attend me? I know how the Cassorin nobles feel about merchants. Since she’s the personal Healer of the royal family, they might refuse—”
“They won’t,” Linden said shortly. “Or they’ll have me to deal with. Don’t worry, love.”
She rested her head against his shoulder again, but trembled harder than ever.
Gods, she must be terrified. Can she sail half-blind? It would kill her, I think, to be chained to the land If only I could tell her that even if she loses that eye she’ll have the freedom of the wind someday.
He set his jaw and steadily walked on.
After far too long for Linden’s peace of mind, the servant stopped before a wide oak door. The two guards on either side stared curiously but made no move.
“Announce me,” Linden said.
The man nodded; he knocked once, then pushed the door open. “His Grace Dragonlord Linden Rathan seeks Healer Tasha, my lord, my lady.”
Linden entered. He nodded to the surprised faces staring back at him. Rann sat on the floor with Healer Tasha and his nurse Gevianna. Toy soldiers surrounded them.
Duchess Alinya was just rising from a chair by the fireplace. The wolfhound behind Rann scrambled to its feet. Through a half-open door in the far wall Linden could see a canopied bed, its covers already turned back.
Tasha jumped up. Though her faded ginger hair was pulled back in its usual severe bun, wisps of it had escaped to frame her face. They made her look oddly young and vulnerable. But when she spoke, her voice was crisp and sure. “What happened? Put her down here and let me look at that eye.” She pointed to the cushion she’d vacated.
He said to Duchess Alinya, “This is Maurynna Erdon.” To Tasha, “A whip caught her across the eye.” Linden snapped his teeth shut on the words and set Maurynna down
on the cushion. He knelt beside her, supporting her against his chest.
The duchess came to stand by his side. “Captain Erdon, I assume, with those bracelets? You’re young for it; you must be very good.”
“She is indeed,” Tasha said as she undid the bandage. Her voice was steady and cheerful. “Very well now, let me have a look at that eye. Yes, yes, I know—the light hurts, doesn’t it? Don’t pull your head away—that’s it. I’ll be quick, I promise. Rann, dear, get out of my light, or the next tonic I give you will be truly awful.”
“But I want to
see
,” Rann complained, peering over Tasha’s shoulder. “Maurynna, does it hurt? You’re bleeding all over
everything.”
“Bloodthirsty little monster,” Duchess Alinya said mildly. “Gevianna?”
Gevianna scooped Rann up and carried him away, ignoring his protests. Because he could think of nothing else to distract the boy, Linden tossed the young prince a ball of scarlet coldfire. A yelp of delight told him the ploy had worked.
Despite her promise to be quick, Linden thought that Tasha’s examination took forever. The Healer
hmmm
ed and tsked, and muttered under her breath as she turned Maurynna’s face this way and that. He realized at one point that Maurynna’s nails were digging into his hand. He cradled her fingers.
At last Tasha sat back on her heels. She said cheerfully, “Not as bad as I’d feared. The eyelid took the worst of it; the pupil wasn’t touched at all—just the white of the eye was scratched. You must have blinked at the right moment. All the blood is from the cuts on your forehead, lid, and cheek. Frightening, but nothing serious.”
Linden went limp with relief. Maurynna squeezed his hands one last time. He asked, “Can you Heal it?”
“Yes; I’ll want to clean it first, though. Gevianna, would you bring my kit, please? As luck would have it, I made up an infusion of goldenseal today for Lady Corvy; there’s still some left.”

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