Vengeance of Dragons (Secret Texts) (9 page)

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Authors: Holly Lisle

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BOOK: Vengeance of Dragons (Secret Texts)
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Click. The trap snapped shut around her, and she had already agreed with the captain that its bars were solid and its use acceptable. “You want me to . . . give myself to him?”
“No. I insist only that you share his quarters and remain his companion throughout the return trip. Meanwhile, I will sail you and your friends and Ry and his friends and your Mirror of Souls to a neutral harbor: neither Brelst nor Calimekka. I think Glaswherry Hala might serve. Once you’re on land, all of you may go where you please. Should he decide to go with you, he may. Should he decide to return to Calimekka with me, he may. In that way, I will fulfill my duty to him and meet your needs as well.”
“You
can’t
let her have the Mirror!” the parnissa wailed.
“You
can’t
force Kait into Ry’s company!” Ian snapped.
The captain glanced first at the parnissa, and for a moment Kait saw the hint of disdain that every captain she’d ever known held toward the parnissery. It was the look that men who were truly free and in charge of their own domains held toward those who chose the path of bureaucracy. “I can and I have.” He turned to Ian. “And you . . . you are not a captain on my ship. You are less than nothing—you and the rest of your people will be the parolees of this woman. As long as she speaks for you, I’ll see you’re treated with courtesy. But you have no voice of your own. You understand?”
Kait watched Ian from the corner of her eye. He blanched and nodded.
She wanted to refuse. Ry and his men would surely choose to “accompany” them once they were on land, and she and Ian and Hasmal and Jayti would be outnumbered, and would lose the Mirror of Souls to the Sabir Family anyway. They would simply lose it closer to home. Meanwhile, she would have to share quarters with Ry, when sharing a continent with him already seemed too intimate.
She could not demand that the captain guarantee she and her people would keep the Mirror once they were on land again; Captain’s Law began and ended on the sea, and he could offer nothing that would bind Ry and his men beyond the decks of his ship. Further, she had chosen to negotiate with him—she could not now state that she wanted to negotiate with Ry, too. If she tried to demand too much, she’d lose everything.
She wanted to spit in the captain’s face and tell him she’d sooner see him in hell. But she had defined winning as getting her people and the Mirror safely across the sea to the Reborn. The captain’s bargain would let her win, at least temporarily—and she would have the whole voyage in which to figure out a way to win permanently.
She stared into the captain’s eyes. “You swear to protect my friends’ lives as if they were the lives of your own family or crew, protect our cargo as if it were your own, get us safely to a harbor that isn’t Calimekka, and let all of us leave when we get there, permitting us to take the Mirror of Souls with us?”
“I swear.”
She saw honesty in his eyes, and smelled sincerity in his breath.
“And you will be satisfied that I have carried out my portion of the bargain if I share a room with Ry Sabir and attend him as a companion during the day; you do not stipulate that I become his mistress or his
eylayn.
”
“Correct.”
“I’ll kill you if you touch her, you bastard,” she heard Ian mutter to Ry, but that oath was spoken far too softly for the others to hear.
Kait sighed. “Then I accept your terms for my people.”
The captain now asked her, “And you will hold parole for your people, and submit yourself to my judgment without question or argument if they violate that parole?”
Kait turned and gave Ian a look that clearly stated,
Put me in his hands and I’ll make you pay for the rest of your life,
and said, “I will.”
“Then I accept your terms for my people.”
The parnissa glowered at both of them, but stood between them and tapped the knot in the center of the cord that bound them. “Gods attend these actions of men, for these two have acted for the best interests of all, in the spirit of fairness, dealing honestly one with another,” he said in a flat, angry voice. The words came out as hurried rote, the recitation of a furious schoolchild made to perform against his will. “They are now made law and subject to the penalties of the laws of Matrin and the Veil.” He tapped the knot again. “I witness, remember, and record.” When his finger tapped the knot for the third time, it undid itself as if by magic, but Kait could see that it had only been cleverly tied.
Kait turned to Ian and Hasmal. “Untie Ry and release him.”
Neither man was happy about it, but both complied.
Ry got to his feet, brushed the ashes from his face, and rubbed his chafed wrists. He looked at Ian, and the hatred that passed between the two of them was visible. She had sworn that she would keep Ian under control, at forfeit of her life if the captain so chose; she wondered if Ian’s love for her would be enough to make him obey the parole, or if he would sacrifice her to get at Ry.
Ry’s eyes held Ian’s death in them, too. He smiled—a tight, ugly grimace of barely controlled rage—and strode across the beach to join Yanth and the parnissa.
The captain said, “Would you prefer to go to the ship first, parata?”
Kait was afraid to leave any of her people alone, protected by the captain’s sworn word or not. She glanced up at the ridge behind her and said, “I’d rather get our injured man on board first. The Mirror can travel with Hasmal and Ian and me.”
The captain smiled. “As you choose.”
Kait led her people and Ry’s back through the hills, toward Jayti and the Mirror of Souls, and wondered how much of an ordeal the trip ahead of her would be.

 

Chapter
7
S
haid Galweigh, pretender to the Galweigh paraglesiat, ushered his contingent of diplomats, traders, and Wolves into the magnificent Palm Hall of the Sabirs. He was the first Galweigh to step within the walls of Sabir House as a guest in over four hundred years, and if he did not represent Calimekka’s great Galweigh House, but only Cherian House in the city of Maracada on the island of Goft, that was a fact that both he and his Sabir hosts were willing to overlook.
He took his seat in the enormous gilded ivory chair at one end of the long table and nodded toward the two men who sat at the other end, in chairs of matching magnificence. One was the Sabir Family paraglese, Grasmir Sabir, old and leonine and majestic; the other was a handsome young man named Crispin Sabir, who had beautiful golden hair and a warm and ready smile that Shaid instinctively liked. The two Sabirs had personally greeted each member of the delegation before anyone moved into the Palm Hall; now, finally, Grasmir gave a signal and the meeting began.
“We have both old and new business to discuss,” Grasmir said with a wry smile. “The old stretches back over four hundred fifty years; I think perhaps we ought to settle that before we move on to those things which immediately interest us.”
Around the table, various Galweighs and Sabirs chuckled.
“As acting head of the Galweigh Family, I have to say it’s about time we got around to that.”
“Very well, then.
Old
business. Family records tell of an argument between Arathmad Karnee and his partner Perthan Sabir over the dowry of Arathmad’s daughter. The daughter was to marry the Sabir son when both came of age—at the time they were still small children. Perthan accused Arathmad of belittling his son by offering such a small dowry; Arathmad said Perthan’s son was ugly and spindly and that the only reason he offered his daughter was because he was Perthan’s only friend, and Perthan’s son would never find a suitable bride otherwise. The dispute became bitter, the partners separated their business, which from all evidence was in the practice of black market magic, and—though history is vague on this point—one partner cast a spell on the other partner. The Sabirs have always held that the caster of the spell was Arathmad Karnee.”
Shaid nodded. “And the Galweighs have always said the spell was cast by Perthan Sabir.”
Around the table, those who were hearing the story for the first time shook their heads.
“That’s what brought about four hundred fifty years of inter-Family war?” someone asked.
Shaid and Grasmir looked at each other from opposite ends of the table and smiled. Grasmir gave the nod to Shaid, who said, “Not entirely. Both Perthan and Arathmad died from the effects of the spell—one from the spell itself, and one from what the histories refer to as
rewhah,
which is apparently some sort of magical backlash that comes from using magic.” He knew more about it than that, and he assumed that Grasmir did, too—one didn’t command the Family’s Wolves for long without knowing what their strengths and weaknesses were. Susceptibility to
rewhah
was a big weakness. But one had to maintain appearances at all times, and the appearance of being free from any taint of magic had saved more than one man’s life.
One of the junior members of the Sabir Family asked “Then if the two principals in the dispute died, why did the dispute continue?”
Grasmir said, “Because both children were also hit by the spell—not visibly, though. The effects didn’t become apparent until each of them took mates and had children. Their children were Scarred. Someone called the Scarring the Karnee Curse. The children were skinshifters. Dangerous, deadly, unpredictable creatures. Calimekka already celebrated Gaerwanday—the Day of Infants—and of course all Scarred children were sacrificed. Except the parents of the Sabir children and the parents of the Karnee children (the Family line that joined with and was subsumed by the Galweighs) neglected their duties as citizens. They hid their children, and the monsters were permitted to grow and breed.” Grasmir Sabir sighed and shook his head sadly. “Both Families still carry a taint of this Scarring in their blood. It was over the Scarred children that the long-term war between the Families broke out.”
The faces around the table had grown more somber at that; a thousand years after the horrible Wizards’ War, its magical fallout remained clearly visible to anyone who ventured to the docks and saw the Scarred slaves at work on the ships, or watched the executions of those foolish monsters who dared to pretend to humanity and who ventured within Ibera’s borders. No true human ever forgot that the Scarred had, after the war, hunted down humans and destroyed as many of them as they could get. Just thinking about citizens in their own Family lines who had permitted abominations to live, rather than sacrifice them, horrified all of them.
Grasmir looked from face to face, and finally sighed. “Both Families carry guilt in the matter, though at this late date we cannot hope to unravel which of the two principals, if either, might have been the more guilty.” He managed a faint, weary smile. “And I say it no longer matters. Call the matter settled, forgive the stupidities of the past, and move on.”
Shaid waited, just a beat, to make his impact greater. Then he stood and applauded. Around the table, other members of the Galweigh delegation followed his lead, leaping to their feet and clapping vigorously. The Sabirs rose, too. Grasmir’s smile grew broad, and when the applause finally died down, he dropped into his chair with an air of satisfaction.
“I take it as agreed, then, that the Sabir and Galweigh Families have put the past behind them.”
More applause greeted that statement. Without making it obvious that he was doing so, Shaid glanced around the room, looking for any dissenters. He saw none. Excellent.
He rose in the silence that followed the applause and said, “Then perhaps now is the time to move on to the new business that brings us here today.” He waited until he noted nods of affirmation from around the room. Clasping his hands in front of his chest, he said, “Well, then. The Sabirs and the Goft Galweighs face both a problem and an opportunity, and as our Families are resolved to put past differences behind us, we can perhaps work together to leap on the opportunity, and eliminate the problem.” He cleared his throat, suddenly unsure about how to continue.
He glanced around the room. The faces that looked back at him were those of friends and of associates, and also of men and women who just the day before had been sworn to work toward his ruin. Now each of them looked at him with some variation on the same theme—curiosity mixed with a tinge of avarice and a hint of excitement . . . and a pinch of fear. He especially noticed Crispin Sabir’s eyes—eager, fascinated, watchful. The eyes of a man ready to grasp any advantage and make it work for him.
Best play to the excitement first.
“About our opportunity . . . well, no one has discovered a new city of the Ancients in any of our lifetimes. Until now. A member of the Calimekkan branch of the Galweigh Family chartered a ship with money she stole from the Goft treasury, and acting on information that she stole from archives in the Goft House, sailed east. She was successful in locating the city she sought.” He leaned forward, resting his palms on the table.
One young Sabir woman looked stunned that he would admit to the discovery of such a treasure by his own Family, even if by Family acting without official sanction. Had he kept secret the fact that Kait had gone off on her own, the Galweighs would have had unquestioned claim. A few members of Shaid’s own delegation appeared surprised and uneasy that he was being so forthright. After all, with those few words he’d abolished the Galweigh rights to the claim, leaving it solely Kait’s if she lived and throwing it into the hands of the strongest taker if she died.

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