The Last Dragonlord (28 page)
Read The Last Dragonlord Online
Authors: Joanne Bertin
His royal patron’s anger startled Althume. Peridaen had never spoken to him in that way before. So, then. It would be well to tread softly here. He forced into his voice a sympathy he didn’t feel. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that. And it
pains me to think that I will cause your lady such grief. But you must see that this is a gift from the gods themselves, Peridaen. We’ll never have a chance like this again.”
pains me to think that I will cause your lady such grief. But you must see that this is a gift from the gods themselves, Peridaen. We’ll never have a chance like this again.”
“I know.” Peridaen stared at the table. He suddenly looked tired beyond measuring. “I know. But didn’t Ankarlyn kill that fledgling?”
“Only indirectly. Ankarlyn made clumsy use of his fledgling once the man had Changed—a mistake we won’t repeat. The enslaved Dragonlord’s soultwin killed him, then committed suicide herself. If we play this game well, neither Linden Rathan nor any other Dragonlord should know what has happened.”
“May the gods will it so,” Peridaen said heavily.
“If
we play the game.”
“If
we play the game.”
Alone at the long table in the dining room of the Colranes’ city house, Sherrine picked at her food, pushing it around the plate. The mere thought of eating turned her stomach. She shoved the plate aside.
“Take it away,” she snapped at the serving maid.
An instant later the offending meal was whisked away. The maid fled the room. Sherrine heard murmuring. No doubt the servants were discussing this latest bit of temper, curse them.
Now what? She stared at her hands as she twisted the rings on her fingers. The long, lonely evening—and lonelier night—stretched out before her.
So lost in her thoughts was she, that at first she didn’t heed the sudden babble of voices at the front of the house. Then—
“Oh, gods—
no
!”
no
!”
Sherrine stood up, gripping the edge of the table with both hands. Not her mother. Not on this day of all days.
Her mother swept regally into the room. Sherrine pushed away from the table and forced herself to stand upright.
One beautiful eyebrow rose in a disdainful arch. “I knew you’d fail. But not quite so spectacularly, I must admit. Thrown over for a
sailor,
of all things.”
sailor,
of all things.”
Sherrine stiffened. The door behind her mother was still open and, though her mother did not raise her voice, from
past experience Sherrine well knew the carrying power of her mother’s jibes. Judging by the sudden silence throughout the rest of the house, every servant in the place was eavesdropping. And Sherrine had no illusions that they would keep silent for love of her; the tale would be spread throughout the noble houses of Casna by tomorrow night.
past experience Sherrine well knew the carrying power of her mother’s jibes. Judging by the sudden silence throughout the rest of the house, every servant in the place was eavesdropping. And Sherrine had no illusions that they would keep silent for love of her; the tale would be spread throughout the noble houses of Casna by tomorrow night.
“Thrown over for a
sailor,”
her mother repeated, “and then dismissed like a thieving steward—all for the sake of some low-born wench. And you took it meekly, didn’t you?”
sailor,”
her mother repeated, “and then dismissed like a thieving steward—all for the sake of some low-born wench. And you took it meekly, didn’t you?”
The words were bitter enough, but the worst was the amused disdain and contempt that dripped from her mother’s voice. And she could find no words of her own to fight back with. She despised herself for her weakness.
“Outsmarted yourself, didn’t you, this time? Thought you were so clever and never saw that Linden Rathan was just amusing himself until something better came along.” Her mother shook her head, smiling scornfully. “And there’s not a thing you can do about it, is there?” she taunted.
Sherrine turned her head away from the hateful truth. There was nothing she could do. She was powerless.
“I knew all along this idiocy of yours would fail. The likes of you would need sorcery to catch a Dragonlord,” her mother said with a final sneer. “You’re a disappointment to me, girl; you always have been. Bah, I’ve no more time to waste on you.”
On the last cutting words her mother gracefully gathered up her skirts and departed. Sherrine stood trembling, unable to move, feeling as if her soul had been torn apart.
Then her spirit rebelled. She had not needed sorcery to catch Linden! Not the first time!
But she would if she were to snare him again. And she thought she knew where to find such magic; she might be powerless, but she knew of one who was not.
She would give Linden one last chance. And then …
And then he’d see he could not treat her so and escape unscathed.
The morning light poured through
the window. Cursing under his breath, Althume bent over the ancient manuscript. The script was crabbed and blotted, the language archaic where it wasn’t in an unknown tongue altogether. At last he threw down his quill pen in frustration.
the window. Cursing under his breath, Althume bent over the ancient manuscript. The script was crabbed and blotted, the language archaic where it wasn’t in an unknown tongue altogether. At last he threw down his quill pen in frustration.
Time. He needed more time, damn it. From the little he’d translated, it could be done. But he needed the entire ceremony and spells, not just this piddling bit he had so far.
Most frustrating of all was that he knew how to gain the time he needed, but for it he needed a certain accomplice. He wondered how long it would be before she sought either her mother or Peridaen’s aid for revenge. They, of course, would send her on to him. He did not relish the thought of her knowing him for a mage, but that could not be helped.
He just hoped it would not be long—or that Peridaen would be forced to order her aid.
He was still lost in thought when the house steward opened the study door. “My Lord Steward, Lady Sherrine of Colrane asks to see you.”
Before he could reply, Sherrine entered the room, head held high, eyes glittering with fury. For a moment Althume, too surprised to stand or speak, merely stared at her. By all the gods, what had Anstella said to the girl last night? And why straight here? He knew that Anstella would not have divulged his secret. Not without his permission.
It took a frown from the house steward to bring him back to his assumed role. He rose and came around the desk, hands extended. “My lady—you honor me. Herrel, send for tea,” he ordered as he guided Sherrine to a chair, “and then see that we are not disturbed.”
As Herrel closed the door Althume finished for his benefit, “How may I be of service to you, my lady?”
The latch dropped. Althume listened a moment to be certain that the house steward was not eavesdropping at the keyhole, then dropped his mask of obsequious servant. “So, you’ve failed.”
Sherrine hissed in anger. “Only because Linden took the side of a lowborn slut. I even offered to pay her a wergild.”
Althume waved a hand. “Spare me the details; I already know them.”
A dark flush crept up the girl’s cheeks.
“However, may I say that I sympathize with you? Who would have thought that a Dragonlord would have become so angry at such a little thing. It’s not as if the girl was noble.”
But if, as the other Dragonlords seemed to think, having you in close proximity to Linden Rathan was too dangerous, this was a clever ruse on his part to have you keep your distance, my little fledgling.
“Still, the fact remains you did not get very much useful information for all the time you spent with Linden Rathan.”
But if, as the other Dragonlords seemed to think, having you in close proximity to Linden Rathan was too dangerous, this was a clever ruse on his part to have you keep your distance, my little fledgling.
“Still, the fact remains you did not get very much useful information for all the time you spent with Linden Rathan.”
“Should I have handed him a list and said ‘The Fraternity of Blood would like the answers to these questions, my lord’?” Sherrine retorted. “The man is not stupid. I asked him as much as I dared. If I had more time I could get even deeper into his confidence.” She tossed her head. “Get me that time, Althume.”
The mage leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers before his face. Audacious chit—he had to grant her that. He had no doubt she had suggested the dalliance for her own pleasure; she had not the strength of purpose to discomfit herself for the Fraternity. And here she was demanding he help her reconcile with Linden Rathan as if he had nothing better to do.
But what did she think a mere steward could do? Or did she know more than she’d let on so far?
He said with a touch of irony, “Time is something we are all in need of, Lady Sherrine. And how could I, the humble
steward of Prince Peridaen’s estates, get you more time with Linden Rathan?”
steward of Prince Peridaen’s estates, get you more time with Linden Rathan?”
“Let us end this farce—
steward.
You are no more a servant than I. You are a mage—and a powerful one, I would wager.”
steward.
You are no more a servant than I. You are a mage—and a powerful one, I would wager.”
Althume allowed a tiny smile to cross his lips. “Very good, my dear. How did you guess?”
The corners of Sherrine’s mouth quirked up but it was not a smile. “I am not stupid, my lord mage. Not at all. I know how to
see
, not merely
look.”
see
, not merely
look.”
Amused now, Althume asked, “And what do you want of me?”
She came directly to the point of her visit. Althume approved; he had no time to waste on maidenly vaporings and false modesty.
“Prince Peridaen once jested about a love philter for Linden Rathan. I want one. Once he accepts me again, I can continue gathering information. Indeed, if the philter causes him to become entirely besotted with me, I could be more daring in what I asked him.”
“Alas,” said the mage ruefully. “As much as I hate to admit it, it cannot be done. Oh, don’t think I didn’t research it; Peridaen stung my pride with his assumption that it wasn’t possible. Unfortunately he was right. You will have to find your own way back into Linden Rathan’s bed.”
Her nostrils flared, but Sherrine betrayed no other sign of anger. “I—His servants turned me away not a candlemark ago,” she admitted.
Good,
Althume thought. As if to himself, he mused aloud, “How odd you should mention time before. Time, time, time; exactly what we—Prince Peridaen and I—need.”
Althume thought. As if to himself, he mused aloud, “How odd you should mention time before. Time, time, time; exactly what we—Prince Peridaen and I—need.”
“Why?”
The question was a mild surprise. “Hasn’t your mother told you of the most recent development in the council?”
Sherrine’s laugh was crystalline and unamused. “We judged it best to have as little contact as possible while I dallied with Linden as she faced him across the council table. That way Beren’s supporters could not so easily claim undue
influence. A plan, I must say, that suited me quite well.”
influence. A plan, I must say, that suited me quite well.”
Still, she should have kept you apprised of which way events were turning. Ah, Anstella—clever as you can be, in so many ways you are a fool. A pity Peridaen took up with you instead of your daughter.
He said, “The Dragonlords seem to be favoring Duke Beren’s claim. While it would make things very easy indeed for us if they gave the throne to Peridaen, even if they don’t there may be another way to win this battle. But for that I need time to study certain ancient manuscripts. And from what I have already gleaned from those same manuscripts, my lady Sherrine, while I cannot make you a love philter, I can promise you a certain amount of revenge for this insult.”
She dropped her gaze to the bejeweled hands lying in her lap, studying the fingers twisting the rings that adorned them. Long lashes veiled her eyes, leaving the mage to wonder what went on behind them.
Then once again her gaze met his. As Sherrine twisted a lock of auburn hair, she asked, “Will you tell me what you plan?”
He shook his head. “You will know only what you need to for your part in this. And you will not like some of it, but it is necessary.”
She considered that. Her lips parted in a tiny, cruel smile. “Will it be painful for him?”
“Yes. Very.”
The beautiful hazel eyes lit with the thought of vengeance. “It is no more than he deserves. I am yours to command, my lord mage.”
“Good. First we set the stage … .”
Staring morosely at the ship’s
charts before her, Maurynna listened to the bustle of the Vanadin household. Aunt Elenna called out orders to ’prentices, Maylin chivvied Kella along to hurry and eat, servants passed to and fro on their various duties. One peered into the front room where Maurynna sat. After one glance at the face that looked back at her, the girl mumbled an apology and disappeared after a last disapproving look at the oil lamp still burning.
charts before her, Maurynna listened to the bustle of the Vanadin household. Aunt Elenna called out orders to ’prentices, Maylin chivvied Kella along to hurry and eat, servants passed to and fro on their various duties. One peered into the front room where Maurynna sat. After one glance at the face that looked back at her, the girl mumbled an apology and disappeared after a last disapproving look at the oil lamp still burning.
Maurynna took the hint. No sense in wasting oil now that it was light. She blew out the lamp and forced herself back to her task. It was something that truly needed to be done, she told herself.
In truth she’d come downstairs long before dawn so that she could be miserable in private. Her eyes were hot and dry and no doubt red and swollen to boot; she’d spent the better part of the past few candlemarks crying, heartsore, and furious with herself for it.
Just forget about him,
cold reason told her over and over.
cold reason told her over and over.
But try as she might, no matter what she forced her mind to, the image of Linden came back to her, haunted her waking and sleeping.
Cold reason tried again.
He’s not worth all this even if he did walk straight out of a legend. Forget him.
He’s not worth all this even if he did walk straight out of a legend. Forget him.
“I can’t forget him,” she whispered, admitting defeat. At least, she thought, it will be a long, long time indeed. “Damn you, Linden Rathan.”
The clamor of hooves on the courtyard outside cut through her fog of misery. Her heart jumped in panic; the last time she’d heard that sound, she’d nearly been blinded.
And this time, Maurynna knew, Linden would not come to her rescue.
She made her shaking legs carry her to the door to the hall. There they rebelled and would take her no farther; she leaned against the doorframe, listening as more horses crowded into the yard.
Little Aunt Elenna swept past her to the front door, apprentices carried along after her like leaves in a wind. Her head held high, Elenna flung open the door and planted herself squarely in the entrance, arms crossed over her chest, barring the way as surely as an army.
“My Lady Sherrine,” she called, and Maurynna clenched her fists in mingled fear and anger. How dare that noble bitch come back here to threaten and harass her and her family again? Surely Linden had forbidden her this—or had he bothered?
Elenna went on, her voice colder than Maurynna had ever heard it. “What means
this
visit?”
this
visit?”
“Is Captain Erdon within? I would speak with her,” a low, husky, and all too well-remembered voice answered.
Maurynna laid her hand on her belt dagger. The beautiful Lady Sherrine would not have it all her way this time, she vowed. Maylin pushed through the crowd of apprentices to her side.
“Rynna, it’s not what you think; there are packhorses among her guards, and blue ribbons hanging from her horse’s bridle,” Maylin said, grabbing the wrist of Maurynna’s knife hand with surprising strength.
That took a moment to penetrate. Astonishment swept away all other emotions before it. “What? What do you mean?” Her hand fell from the dagger.
Maylin’s odd-colored gaze met her own, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Wergild is what I mean. I’ll wager you anything the Lady Sherrine is paying you wergild.”
“Me? Pay me—? Here in Cassori?”
At home in Thalnia, yes; there she would fetch a wergild from near all but the royal family itself. Not as much as, say, her Uncle Kesselandt or some of her other uncles and aunts,
but a fair amount to be sure. She was an Erdon and that family was one to be reckoned with.
but a fair amount to be sure. She was an Erdon and that family was one to be reckoned with.
But here in Cassori?
She wanted nothing from Lady Sherrine save to be left alone. Or perhaps that lady thought that her money-grubbing merchant’s soul would forget Linden at the sight of some tawdry goods. Damn her to every hell known, then.
Yet …
I almost wish it were so; it would be easier than wanting him so much.
I almost wish it were so; it would be easier than wanting him so much.
Or had Linden ordered this? The thought infuriated Maurynna and broke her paralysis with the force of a boom swinging wild in a gale. She strode to the door. Aunt Elenna turned at her coming and, after one quick glance, yielded the battlefield.
“Get Bard Otter—quickly!” she heard her aunt say to one of the servants.
Maurynna stepped into the hot, unrelenting sunlight and stood on the front step, as straight and proud as the
Sea Mist’s
mainmast, hands clenched at her side. She met Lady Sherrine’s eyes without flinching.
Sea Mist’s
mainmast, hands clenched at her side. She met Lady Sherrine’s eyes without flinching.
As if Maurynna’s coming were a signal, Lady Sherrine placed her hand in that of the guardsman standing at her palfrey’s head and dismounted. It was, Maurynna thought in the back of her mind, the same horse Lady Sherrine had ridden the other night; if Raven were here, he would know for certain—he recognized horses the way she recognized ships. She had an instant’s regret that her oldest friend wasn’t here to guard her back.
Now the Cassorin noblewoman stepped daintily across the cobbled yard. Maurynna went to meet her.
They stopped a few paces from each other. Afoot, Lady Sherrine had to tilt her head back to meet Maurynna’s gaze. Maurynna said nothing; merely stared down at the beautiful woman as coldly as she could.
They were joined by Otter. He also held to the silence, but from the corner of her eye Maurynna saw that his bard’s torc was no longer hidden by the neck of his tunic as it usually was, but proudly displayed for all to see. Well and good, then;
he would stand witness for her in this. She looked back to Lady Sherrine, still waiting. Let her enemy make the first move.
he would stand witness for her in this. She looked back to Lady Sherrine, still waiting. Let her enemy make the first move.
She nearly cried out at that move. For Lady Sherrine swept her a courtesy, one that would have lent grace to the Dawn Emperor’s court in Assantik, where the intricate dance of the courtiers was a thing of legend. Maurynna heard gasps of surprise from those around them.
She almost missed the noblewoman’s words; there was an odd roaring in her ears and her head spun.
“Bard Otter Heronson, will you be witness for what I do this day? Thank you.”
Now a man dressed in Colrane livery came forward. He held a roll of parchment tied with the blue ribbon of peace in one hand.
Her steward, Maurynna guessed, with a listing of the wergild. As witness, Otter held out his hand; the man laid the roll in his palm and retreated once again.
“Captain,” Lady Sherrine continued, “I humbly beg your pardon for my actions the other day. My rash temper could have blinded you; I rejoice that Linden Rathan could get help for you. Again—I apologize.”
The low voice was husky with … shame? Regret? Maurynna was not certain. But the single tear that slid down the pale cheek told her that Lady Sherrine was indeed in the grip of some strong emotion. Did she truly love Linden? If so, Maurynna almost felt sorry for her.
Almost. But Lady Sherrine was still not forgiven.
“Please, accept these humble things as my wergild to you. I was wrong and this is the only way I may make amends to you.”
One slender hand gestured gracefully at the waiting packhorses. Maurynna wondered if this woman were capable of making any movement that wasn’t graceful. She wished the elegant Lady Sherrine would go away; the woman made her feel like a packhorse herself.
As if she read Maurynna’s mind, the noblewoman said, “I
realize my presence is … disagreeable to you, so with your acceptance, Captain, I will withdraw.”
realize my presence is … disagreeable to you, so with your acceptance, Captain, I will withdraw.”
Maurynna looked to Otter, who slid the ribbon from the parchment and studied it. The bard was well-schooled in the art of hiding his feelings, but Maurynna saw the sudden widening of his eyes. Nor could he hide a quick, wondering glance at the packhorses. His gaze flickered to meet hers and he nodded slightly.
So; it was to end here and now, this war between her and Lady Sherrine. Maurynna drew a deep breath and schooled her voice to a serenity she didn’t feel. “I accept your wergild, Lady Sherrine, and say that from this day forth there shall be no further quarrel with you by me or my kin.” The ritual words tasted foul on her tongue.
And worse was yet to come. She forced herself to hold out her hand, palm up. After a moment’s hesitation, Lady Sherrine placed her own on top. Maurynna looked down at the dainty hand, so white and soft against her own tanned and calloused one. The contrast was sharp as a blow.
Otter looped the blue ribbon loosely around their joined hands. With her free hand Maurynna took the parchment tally from him, signaling her formal acceptance of the wergild.
The final words were bitter as aloes. “Let this offering wash away whatever ill will lies between us.”
She pulled her hand away as quickly as she decently could. Lady Sherrine did the same. The ribbon fluttered to the ground.
“Thank you, Captain,” Lady Sherrine said. She raised her hand in an imperious gesture. The guard led her palfrey up and she mounted once more.
The guards by the packhorses began unloading their charges. Maurynna watched, appalled; somehow it had not seemed like so much when distributed between the animals, but when piled together in the little courtyard, it quickly became a daunting amount.
For the sake of the gods, what was the woman thinking of? Was it truly a guilty conscience? Or did she think she could
buy her way back into Linden’s affections? Maurynna glanced at Lady Sherrine.
buy her way back into Linden’s affections? Maurynna glanced at Lady Sherrine.
For a moment Maurynna thought she saw a small, secret smile play over Lady Sherrine’s mouth. But no; it must have been a trick of the light, for the noblewoman, her beautiful hazel eyes downcast, said humbly, “Again I thank you, Captain Erdon. Farewell.”
The palfrey wheeled away and clattered over the cobbles and out into the street. The guards, with packhorses trailing behind, followed their lady. A moment later they were gone, leaving only the scent of horses and leather hanging in the hot air; then, like a ghost, came a seductive whisper of woods lily, gone as soon as it danced across the senses.
Hardly knowing what she did, Maurynna walked to the pile. She stared at it in a daze. Otter joined her.
He gazed at the parchment in his hand. “You must admit that she’s made amends handsomely. Have a look.” He held the sheet out to her.
“I don’t want this,” she said dully.
A hand passed in front of her and snatched the parchment from Otter’s hand. “Oh, Rynna—don’t be an ass. She owes you far more than this, the bitch,” Maylin said, appearing from nowhere.
“Maylin!” Aunt Elenna scolded.
“I’m sorry, Mother, but it’s no more than the truth and you kn—gods have mercy! Mother, look at this!”
Maylin and Aunt Elenna put their heads together over the listing of the wergild, exclaiming and calling each other’s attention to various things, their excitement growing with every item. Maurynna left them to it.
I don’t want this,
she thought, feeling empty inside.
Any of it. If only—
she thought, feeling empty inside.
Any of it. If only—
She turned away and walked blindly back into the house.
“Very well, then, if you won’t be sensible and keep any of it for yourself, then trade the wretched things! They’re yours and not the Family’s; you could turn a tidy profit from all of this!” Maylin fumed.
They stood now in the front room where the opened bundles of Lady Sherrine’s wergild lay scattered across table, desk, chairs, and floor. Maylin was gesturing at the various piles with one hand as she spoke; the other held a carved box.
She continued, “Some of these things are exquisite, like this box.” Her fingers caressed it.
Maurynna shrugged and said, “Then keep it and whatever’s inside. It’s yours.”
Maylin’s jaw dropped. Then she said, “I can’t, Rynna! Look at it! I’m certain it’s jade and …” She cradled it against her. “Do you really mean it?” she said softly. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“I mean it. It’s all yours.”
Maylin looked down at her new treasure. “Just look at the carving on it; so intricate, a bird of some sort, rising from a fire.”
“What?” Aunt Elenna said sharply. “Let me see that.”
Maylin handed the box to her mother. While the older woman studied it, running gentle fingers over the carvings, the two cousins exchanged puzzled looks. Maurynna had no more idea than Maylin what the box was, though something teased at the back of her mind.
A bird rising from a fire …
Ignoring all questions, Aunt Elenna opened the box; her eyebrows shot up nearly to her hairline. She carefully removed something from the box and gingerly nibbled the tiny thing. Then she shook her head in wonder. “I don’t believe it,” she whispered. “But that’s all this could be. Maurynna, this is a princely gift.” She fell to studying the box once more, shaking her head in wonderment.
Gods help me,
Maurynna thought, too stunned to speak.
What could it be?
Maurynna thought, too stunned to speak.
What could it be?
At last Aunt Elenna sighed. “I still don’t believe it,” she said. “This alone would have been wergild enough—more than enough, Rynna. At least from a baroness’s daughter to the likes of our kind.” Only a trace of bitterness came through the words.
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