Barbarian Dragonslayer (Princesses of the Ironbound Book 5)

by Aaron Crash

  “Some or one?” Ymir sat down with his back against the wall. “This we must know.”

  Ziziva turned her head to him. Whatever she was drinking, some had spilled onto her chin. She looked miserable. “Usually one, rarer is two, three isn’t unheard of, and I wouldn’t shut the door on four. See? Feeling better enough to rhyme. But one, I think. One powerful little girl who will flutter happily through the world.”

  “How did she get pregnant without sanctum sap tea?” Jennybelle asked.

  Ymir knew. “The Withering doesn’t affect the Fayee. Never has. And they live a very long time. We think Dillyday Everjewel might be two thousand years old. And how old are you, Ziziva?”

  The fairy girl laughed. “A woman never tells her age. I’ve been alive for a time. For a time, I’ve been alive. And then that time will end. The glimmertime sometimes ends us. But I won’t let go. I won’t give up, you know. For I want the love of this new family I found. And wouldn’t Queen Deedee just laugh if I were to end up dead on the ground? I didn’t get my magistrate’s permission to glitter like I am. Glittering in my glimmertime. Sparkling in my shine. You get to name our girl, Ymir. You’ll get to name our girly. And we won’t give her up to the queen or the Districts Collected. My wish will be respected. Baby of my own. A baby for her mother grown.”

  Ziziva closed her eyes.

  Ymir expected her to open her eyes again, but she didn’t. He checked her chest. She was breathing, her chest rose up and down, but it seemed she’d run from the pain into unconsciousness.

  The four women in the room were silent.

  Ymir spoke in a quiet voice to review what the fairy had said. “The pain is normal. The fever is normal. I suppose tears and laughter are next, and the wogglesparks must be the babies. I’m not sure what that means. What is her drink?”

  “Water and beet sprinkles,” Tori replied. “The sweeter the better. I’ll get to work on the fountain. Lillee is going to make sure we have lots of pastries for her. Ziziva said that fruit and sweets are what her people eat during their glimmertime. Oh, this is exciting. Strange. Nerve-wracking, but so exciting!” Tori giggled like a fairy, and then inhaled. “Gosh me underground, I wonder what she meant about this being dire and dangerous. Dangerous just for her or dangerous to us?

  Then the dwab shrugged. “Don’t care. I’m glad the fairy is with us here and not with Ribby. Not that I don’t think Ribby wouldn’t have done a good job, but gosh, I want to be here for it. Every step of the way.”

  Ymir found himself intrigued. And yes, it was what he wanted too.

  He was glad that their Ventita Fructus book wasn’t in the room with Ziziva and his daughter. He wouldn’t have liked the idea.

  He saw the irony keenly. There were two kinds of fruits growing, one in the belly of Ziziva, and one on a book he wrote. They were to be his creations.

  Ymir went to the sleeping fairy girl. Kneeling, he touched Ziziva’s belly and felt her hot, stretched skin. Inside there was his daughter. He wasn’t sure why the Axman had given him such a strange path, but he was grateful for it.

  Lillee had tears in her eyes. Tori was beaming.

  Gatha grunted and left, stomping through the house.

  Jennybelle used actual words. “Just what I need. My fucking sister is coming here tomorrow, and I have a fucking pregnant fairy in my house. And it very well could be that preggers here will explode and kill us all. This is shitty. All of this is shitty.”

  With that, the swamp woman left them, hurrying, and stomping as loudly as the she-orc.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  YMIR WALKED INTO THE latest party in the Reception Room in the Imperial Palace with a lot on his mind. Ziziva said it might be a few days before she gave birth, or it could be a week. She didn’t know.

  It was only a couple of nights later, and Ziziva was still in her glimmertime.

  Ymir had to leave her, which he didn’t like, but he had to attend the latest event because for the first time, all the attendees of the assemblage would be there. Arribelle Josen had finally arrived, and since she was going to marry Darisbeau Cujan, he would be joining her. Nellybelle Tucker wouldn’t be far behind.

  Ymir wore his new clothes, as requested by both Yannc Winslo and the most Honored Princept. They wanted him to look a certain away, and the barbarian didn’t give a shit. His new formal judician Flow robes were mostly black, with a gray open palm on the chest and on the back. They were stylized, one of Lillee’s own designs, which was one of the only reasons why Ymir agreed to wear them. He also wore a new pair of black and gray boots that matched Jennybelle’s dress and shoes.

  Jenny had wanted to come. She wanted to see her sister in a public place so they didn’t try to murder each other. And Ymir was allowed a guest, and though her position had changed dramatically, Jennybelle was still a princess of Josentown. That allowed her some special privileges.

  Everyone there knew that Jenny had been disowned and was no longer even welcome in the Josentown Palace. However, the royals, ambassadors, and emissaries were very good at pretending.

  The king of the Sorrow Coast Kingdom was there, Velis Naoar IX, and his ridiculous moustache. King Velis had been joined by the elite of the Melancholia University, people who had definite opinions on the next ruler of the Holy Theranus Empire as well as how they should handle the threat of the demon conqueror.

  There were dwarven thanes from several underground kingdoms, and of course, the new queen of Greenhome, and Lillee’s other mothers. They made a point not to even glance at Ymir. The grieving imperial family was at the party, of course, and that included the wrinkled, dour-faced matriarch, Arlynda Appleford, and her three grandchildren, Erwin, Fannen, and Jayke. The green-haired Anny Prettytoad didn’t let the boy out of her sight.

  On a golden pedestal, in the middle of the room, Dillyday Everjewel sat on an ornate little chair with Jacinta Sugartime next to her. They were with the other guild masters, a collection of men, dwarves, and elves from the Bloody Dawn Guild, which handled mercenaries; the Knowing Guild, which was for engineers and technologists; the Sun, Moon, & Stars Guild, which tracked all magic-users; and the Painted Pen Guild, which include the arts, theater, and music.

  In a very real sense, the guilds were the true power of Thera, but they weren’t chosen, and they didn’t inherit their power. One rose to the top of a guild through political mechanizations and maneuverings.

  Durba Laboon and a contingent of merfolk were there, but they kept to themselves. Though Charibda Delphino had basically saved Thera with her sacrifice, the distrust of the Aquaterreb was still present.

  Arribelle had the biggest entourage there, and that included Darisbeau Cujan and Nellybelle Tucker. Nelly was allowed to come because she was the queen’s official handmaiden and her second in command. Other queens from the Swamp Coast were there as well, but they showed Arri a certain deference born out of fear.

  There had been a variety of assassinations across the Swamp Coast, as well as a few rumors of royalty being devoured by orishas, the demons of the Swamp Coast.

  Professor Linnylynn Albatross knew some of the queens from her time studying demons, and she made her rounds, talking with many of the women. From the looks on their faces, the women weren’t exactly thrilled to be chatting with the professor, who liked orishas a bit too much.

  Jennybelle didn’t get wine, she got xoca kaif, which the school had purchased from The Paradise Tree. She wanted her wits about her.

  Della had promised Ymir beer, and she’d come through.

  People took notice of him immediately. Some of them met his eyes, confirming he knew who they were and that they wanted to talk more with him.

  Arribelle, though, left her entourage and hurried over with an evil smile curling her lips and a cruel glint in her eyes. She had her sister’s dark hair and blue eyes, though Arri had several large moles on her face. You could tell that she seemed to take a kind of pride in them. They didn’t make her ugly—she was ugly because of who she was.

>   She approached him, sniffed him, and then circled him, appraising Ymir as if he were an otelkir colt. “So, Jenny, this is the fucker you chose for me. He’s handsome, granted, and he has some talent, or so I’ve heard. He’s uppity, though, a stinking barbarian who thinks he is better than us because he grew up nearly freezing to death in a place where only idiots live.”

  Darisbeau and Nellybelle stood back, arms folded, grinning at the whole spectacle.

  Given what was going on—Ziziva’s pregnancy, the threat of the dragon, using the last seed to create the Flesh Steal Ring—this bit of drama felt like so much nonsense.

  Ymir ignored Arri and smiled at Jennybelle, who looked at him with dead eyes. She had turned off the part of herself that could be hurt by whatever her old family tried to do to her.

  Ymir felt the fury in him. He wanted to lash out, to slap this silly bitch for hurting her sister, and then go over there and put a dagger of ice through Darisbeau’s chest. Instead, he grinned at his love. “Jenny, I don’t think she’s that ugly. She is trying to be cruel, though, but she’s too stupid to say much of anything interesting.”

  Arri stopped her circling and stamped her foot. “Who are you to be saying such things to me? I’ll soon be queen of all the Swamp Coast, and maybe even Williminaville. Y’all won’t be able to do a thing without me ’cause I’m so important now.”

  Ymir grimaced. “Important to whom? Are you really going to say anything important about some boy vempor and a demon conqueror to the south? And from what I understand, it’s Daris and Nelly who are doing most of the thinking for you. They are hiring the assassins, arranging the marriages, blackmailing the queens who refuse to join. You, yourself, are inconsequential other than the fact that you carry the Josen name, and in the end, the Josen name will be what rules down there. Because of the machinations that your Auntie Jia set in motion. May she find solace in the Tree of Life.”

  “Auntie Jia was against our ideas!” Arri realized she might’ve said too much. “Never you mind about that. It’s the Josens that are gonna rule the Swamp Coast. You think you know so much. You don’t know anything! Not a thing! Why, I have help, a secret army, but I won’t say more.”

  Ymir saw how ridiculous this woman was. A secret army? How big could it be? And how secret could it be if she was talking about it so freely? “Everything you say is either a lie or a barb meant to sting. But your aim is poor.”

  Arri scowled. “You have to be nice to me. You’ll get in trouble if you aren’t. From the Princept. Who maybe you’re fucking, or that’s what I hear.”

  Ymir had to laugh. This girl was either trying to start a rumor or she was fishing for something to use against him. He would give her nothing.

  Jenny sipped her kaif, not speaking. Arri wanted a reaction. Jennybelle might as well have been made out of stone.

  Ymir shrugged. “The Honored Princept would be removed if she were sleeping with scholars. Especially me, since I stink. As for me fucking? When I’m not fucking one of my wives, I prefer elk. Jenny, I’m surprised she didn’t accuse me of elf-fucking. Or perhaps she did. I find it difficult to care what this child says.”

  “Child?” Arribelle snarled. “I’m older than Jennybelle there! You will respect me!”

  “Nothing to respect,” Ymir said. “And to win respect, you must give it, or be cleverer than you appear. Or prettier. You are an empty wind blowing, Arribelle Josen. You want to be a storm. Instead, you are a light breeze, a bit chilly, annoying but easy to ignore.”

  From across the room, Jayke raised his glass of wine to Ymir. The fairy on his shoulder waved him over.

  Ymir nodded at the girl queen. “Good luck with your marriage to Darisbeau. I’m surprised you’re comfortable sharing cock with Nellybelle. I thought that wasn’t the way of Swamp Coast women, but I hardly care about such things.”

  He moved off.

  As did Jennybelle. Without a word. She and Arri might as well have been strangers.

  As they walked, Jenny slipped her hand into his. She laughed. “And I was a-scared of her when we first walked into the room. Ain’t nothing to be a-scared of. She don’t matter. Just a little chilly breeze. Put on a coat and you don’t have to care.”

  Ymir squeezed her hand. “And I would say something about you being sunshine if this were a poem. Good thing it’s not. Let’s just agree to hate that fucking bitch from afar. I don’t need to get any closer to her.”

  Jennybelle leaned against him. “Sorry I ever thought to hook you two up. Sorry I wasn’t brave enough to tell my family to fuck off right away.”

  “You found your courage soon enough.” Ymir turned to her. He drew her close and whispered into her ear. “And Ziziva, right now, is going against the wishes of her people. Like you did when you chose to go against Auntie Jia and your sister. When all things changed.”

  Jennybelle sighed. “You ain’t wrong about that. Fine, I’ll try to accept Fatty Preggers. Maybe I don’t like her ’cause she’s so like me. A little schemer, hurt by her family, lost and alone.”

  “Not alone anymore.” Ymir tilted his head, grinning. “And don’t you dare call her Fatty Preggers to her face.”

  Ymir then walked with Jenny to talk with Jayke.

  Jayke smiled and bowed. “Miss Josen. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I couldn’t help but see you with your sister over there. My father used to say that families can be like cages. Sorry about all that.”

  Jennybelle shrugged. “Find the right family, your highness, and it’s like having wings.”

  The fairy giggled. “Jayke isn’t the highness yet, not just yet, but we have hopes, you bet. He isn’t the braggart of an older brother, and he isn’t the meekness of the middle other, but Jayke is the yummiest of the young lords, a little brother who will be the biggest of swords.”

  Jayke blushed. “It isn’t like that, Miss Prettytoad. I wouldn’t say no to the throne, but neither do I want it. To be a ruler, even of a small empire like the Holy Theranus Empire, isn’t an easy thing. There are a lot of responsibilities to consider.”

  Again, Ymir was impressed by the young man.

  Jayke waved his hands in front of him, as if clearing the air. “Besides, I’m more interested in studying the Withering and trying to fix the problem. If we could address the Withering, the Holy Theranus Empire might be taken seriously for once.” He laughed a little. “I was talking with Illb Stage of the Knowing Guild and with Bertal Steinen of the Sun, Moon, & Stars Guild about the problem. Funny, I had a dream last night. The sanctum fluffs were floating everywhere around Old Ironbound, in the library, in my room, across the Sunfire Field. The fluffs were everywhere. And they helped everyone have children. And not just girls, like it is now, but sons. There were sons for so many people.”

  Ymir had read about sanctum trees. In the spring, across Four Roads and other milder climates, as far east as Greenhome, the sanctum trees wept seeds that floated on tufts of cotton. That cotton got everywhere. The sap of the tree provided a tea that helped women get pregnant. No one knew exactly the biology behind the sanctum sap tea, only that it was effective. The more religious said the sanctum trees were connected to the Tree of Life, and in temples, like the one on the Moons campus, the seeds were too sacred to be allowed to float around, and so they were collected and kept in a gold box.

  Ymir did have to wonder at all this talk of seeds and fluffs.

  Did the boy know something?

  No, he was just a boy, drinking wine at a party where people might decide to give him the power and responsibility to rule a small empire, one that paled in comparison to what it had been at one time.

  Ymir didn’t envy the boy.

  The fairy shivered her wings and green dust burst from them. “Oh, in dreams, what may come but more dreams still? Little Jayke won’t be chosen as ruler though he has the will. The eldest Erwin will be the choice of the family, and oh, how he’ll boast about his victory.”

  Ymir thought that was an accurate appraisal of the situation.

&
nbsp; It was then that Glagga the Blade came over and bowed before him. She snapped out her tusks. “I offer you greetings, Ymir Virtorg, as I offered them to Della Virtorg. We will not forget what you did to save my people from Gulnash the Betrayer.”

  It wasn’t long before Ymir and Jennybelle were pulled over to talk more with the she-orc and other Gruul warriors of both sexes, who had found a table and were drinking beer, telling stories about their times in the Pits, where there had been constant contests on who would rule the Blood Steppes. So far, it had been Glagga the Blade who had come out on top.

  Jenny soon left because her Gruul wasn’t very good, and she grew tired of the bragging. Erwin Appleford would’ve fit right in.

  For Ymir, surrounded by warriors, it felt like home.

  The fires were stoked for a long night of talking, drinking, and scheming. Tori and the other kitchen staff kept the food table full, and there was no danger of running out of wine and beer. Ymir settled in for the night, thinking they wouldn’t stop until the sun dawned.

  However, it was just after midnight when Ymir noticed the little specks of golden light outside the window. None of the Gruul noticed—too drunk, maybe—but Ymir shot to his feet and hurried to the glass doors of the balcony. He opened one of the doors and slipped outside.

  The glowing specks weren’t just on the balcony, they were spread across the campus, clinging to the side of the Librarium Citadel, drifting across the Sunfire Field, floating toward the Red Wall. The sparkles were about the size of Ymir’s thumb. They didn’t fly over the Red Wall, but seemed to be connected to the campus somehow.

  The whole school was glowing. It was beautiful but strange.

  A gentle rain fell from the sky. When a drop hit a sparkle, the light dimmed a little, and the bit of light was sent rolling in a different direction. Most of the sparkles were forced to the ground, but some floated up into doorways or under eaves topping windows.