"Catla," Kial greeted a heavily pregnant priestess with a smile. "Are any rooms to spare?"
"Kial." She leaned to kiss his cheek. "There's one in the back, but you'll have to share." She gestured toward a corridor which led to the rear of the building.
"We're big boys, we can manage." Kial gave Travin a wink that made his heart skip and palms feel damp. Either Kial was a flirt with everyone, or he wanted to share a bed with Travin.
The idea made his heart race a little faster. It wouldn't be his first time with another man, but none were as good-looking.
He admonished himself for his thoughts. He was in the middle of a camp of people who may very well be planning to invade the north in the near future. He had more to concern himself with than intimacy. And yet, as Kial gave him a slow smile, he found his face heating and body responding.
"The door should be open," Catla was saying. "Put your things down in there. You know where spare blankets are, and when meals are held."
"Yes, and what chores are expected of us," Kial said, "I'll be sure to keep Travin here on time."
"And on his toes too, I'm sure." She gave them a knowing smile and waddled away, back straight.
"Don't mind her," Kial said, starting down the corridor. He stopped in front of the only open door and disappeared inside.
Travin followed him into a small room. Single beds sat to either side, separated by a table. A tiny window overlooked the fields and a gallows. Thankfully, no one hung from it today, but it was a timely reminder to watch himself.
Kial had put his bag on one bed, so Travin chose the other.
"Come, I'm eager for you to meet the king." Kial beckoned him.
"You know him?" Travin asked. He set his guitar down against the wall in the corner and rubbed his shoulder. Carrying it for days on end had taken its toll on his muscles. He'd be glad to rest for a while.
"I have met him, yes. He likes to get to know the priests and priestesses as well as he's able." He looked in the direction Catla had gone and smiled.
"Oh, I see." He wouldn't pass judgement on any woman for bearing a king's child, or any man's, without being married, but he knew how much his own mother had struggled. At least Catla had the support of the temple.
Travin had expected the king to have a tent amongst the others, but he'd taken up temporary residence in a large farmhouse. Standing at two stories, it was the biggest building in Fledros, and easily the biggest residence Travin had seen apart from the Dragonhall.
Built from stone, the farmhouse sported thick timber windowsills and windows edged with intricate lead-lighting. The front doors were huge and ornately carved.
"Ostentatious, isn't it?" Kial asked, sounding disgusted.
Travin thought he was referring to the display of wealth until the priest added, "I hope some day the temple can move here. Euru is deserving of this kind of structure. Homes should be more humble. Unless the king is living there, of course."
"Right," Travin replied. "As palaces go, this is relatively simple, but for a farmer—"
"Precisely," Kial agreed. He trotted up the front step, past two heavily armed guards and through the open doors. Evidently, his robes gained him admission without question.
The guards eyed Travin and one made to speak until Kial stuck his head back out and said, "He's with me. His majesty will want to meet him without delay."
The guard considered for a moment, then stood back and nodded for Travin to pass.
"Thank you," he said, giving what looked like a sharp sword a glance before stepping past.
The interior of the farmhouse was as ornate as the outside, but any decorative furniture had made way for functional ones, piles of leather armour and weapons.
Soldiers as heavily armed as the guards lined the room, all attention on the two men.
Seated at a table to the far side was an older man with golden hair, cut short and neat, as was his beard. He looked up and took them in as they approached. He smiled. Laugh-lines deepened around his mouth and blue-green eyes. His expression radiated warmth, even though as he rose, his posture exuded power.
"Welcome." Rosharias held out a hand to each man in turn. His was rough, but warm. "What brings you here, Friend Kial?"
Kial beamed.
"I brought my friend Travin here to meet you, your majesty." Kial replied, giving the king a low bow. "He's eager to take his place amongst the beloved of Euru."
"Is he now?" Rosharias' eyes turned to take in Travin. He was nothing less than amicable, but Travin sensed an undercurrent of danger to the man. He'd likely smile while driving a knife into the heart of anyone who crossed him.
"Tell me, friend, are you magin?"
The blunt question was one Travin expected. "Yes, your majesty, I'm a toucher."
"Ah, that's most fortuitous." Rosharias showed no hint of surprise, but was clearly pleased. "Well then, show me what you can do." He held out an arm.
"On you, your majesty?" Travin's mouth went dry. Doing the wrong thing could mean he'd meet Euru sooner than he'd expected.
Rosharias chuckled at his horrified expression. "Certainly. I'm not concerned about threats here. You're surrounded by guards, and friend Kial here likely has a knife he'd drive through your ribs should you attempt me harm."
The message was clear. The king was absolutely certain he'd be defended, and even a friend would put Rosharias' life above Travin's.
"I do," Kial said softly, "but I'm certain I'll have no need to use it."
"He won't," Travin replied. He put a trembling hand on Rosharias' arm. The king's fingers began to wiggle. Feeling a little bolder, he made the man lift his arm and scratch his head. He took a step forward, then another, before Travin removed his hand.
"Nice work," Rosharias said, his eyes firmly on Travin's. "I personally am a singer, which is much less unwieldy than touching. However, it's still more useful than foresight. Sometimes I wonder if giving anyone the gift of seeing was a flaw on the part of Euru."
Kial gave a sharp intake of breath. "Your majesty, surely—"
Rosharias cut him off with one raised finger. "The flaw is with us, naturally, as we clearly haven't established Euru's plan for seers. However, young Travin, you're welcome to join my righteous cause and make it your own. I ask only that you swear obedience to me and Euru."
"I swear it, your majesty," Travin said fervently.
"Good. Now, it's time for the evening service. Come along and join us. I think you'll feel at home here, amongst others of our kind. We all acknowledge the superiority of magin, and are ready to take our places as the rightful ruler and leaders of a united Dargyn. The rest of the kingdoms will kneel at our feet."
Travin felt a slight chill, but put it down to the open window nearby.
31
Either everyone in Fledros was devout, or when Tarlu Rosharias called for a service to be held, all of Fledros attended it. Travin had never seen so many people gathered in one place at the same time. Men and women, soldiers, crafts folk, and of course members of the temple all gathered beside the war camp. A makeshift stage graced one end of the space. Travin recognised it as part of a gallows. If that idea bothered him, it didn't seem to trouble the king or his guards, nor the priests and priestesses who joined him there.
Travin had planned to sit with Kial, but the man gestured for him to be seated at the base of the stage while he joined his fellows.
A hush fell over the gathering as Rosharias stepped forward. Travin expected him to speak, but instead he began to sing. His voice was a pleasant baritone which might have held the crowd anyway had it not been laced with magic.
Travin had never been under the influence of another magin, at least that he was aware of. At first he fought it, instinctively wanting to keep control of himself. Unable to do so, he relaxed and savoured the feeling of calm which washed over him, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. His eyelids felt heavy, but he kept them open, eyes focused on the king.
An idea came into his head, b
ut he wasn't sure it was his, or if Rosharias had put it there. He found he didn't care. The king was all powerful, answerable only to Euru. He was the voice of the god and knew all the god's deepest desires. His wisdom was unequalled anywhere in the kingdoms. The kingdom, his mind corrected. Dargyn would be one, united under Rosharias and Euru. Such was the desire of Euru.
So it must be.
The king stopped singing and the crowd let out a breath as one.
The feeling of wellbeing lingered in Travin's mind and body, like the warmth of a glass of wine. Enjoying the languid feeling for a while long, he considered the message he'd been sent.
The words, the ideas had come from Rosharias but it was as though he'd channeled the wishes of Euru. Euru only wanted people to be happy and live productive lives before their rebirth.
So simple, so attainable.
The message and the delivery were heady. Travin took several minutes to clear his mind and shake his body out of the somnolence which made him feel heavy and sleepy. The enthusiasm of the crowd, which slowly resumed, took him with it, energy infusing him.
When a priestess stepped forward to speak to the congregation, he shouted and cheered as loudly as anyone there.
Every now and again, Travin's eyes flicked toward the king, his mere presence mesmerising. Near the end of the service, Kial moved to stand beside him and spoke to him briefly, his eyes finding Travin before looking away.
Whatever he was saying, the king nodded, approval on his face. Finally, Kial stepped away and the congregation cheered the priestess' last words before they rose to leave.
Kial trotted down the couple of steps to the ground and stepped beside Travin, looking pleased with himself.
"Now you see why so many follow him?" the priest asked.
"I do," Travin agreed. "He's quite something."
"He is." Kial agreed, but his dark-eyed gaze was all for Travin. "I told him about you and your contacts in Tsaisa."
"You talked about me?" Travin started to frown, but caught the king staring at him in the corner of his vision.
"He's very interested in you knowing draakin," Kial replied.
"Oh." Travin's mind returned to Laynin, but with regret rather than his previous anger. He should have tried harder to make her understand. A thought flashed in the back of his mind before he could stop it. He was magin, he could have forced her to understand, just as Rosharias did with the congregation. She might have been angry with him at first, but once she let the message sink in, she might thank him. If nothing else, he could have used words. He was a bard, for Euru's sake. What was the point of having skills if not to convince people to see the truth?
He resolved that if he ever saw her again, he'd try harder to make her believe. In the meantime, he'd make the most of being here.
"What can I do?" he asked.
"The king was hoping you would ask. He wanted to speak to you again. He's invited us to eat dinner with him." Kial bounced on his toes, clearly excited at such an honour. "We should wash and change first."
Travin looked down at his travel dusty clothes and nodded. "Good idea."
Washing consisted of using a jug of water and a cloth to clean himself as best he could, but Travin did it quickly and changed into his nicest clothes. By the time he was done, Kial was ready and waiting for him in their room.
They barely exchanged a word as they walked back to the farmhouse and passed different guards to step inside. Travin had expected to see a few people, but to his surprise, Kial led him through into a small room containing only the king and his guards.
"Please, sit. Food will be delivered shortly."
"Thank you, your majesty." Kial sat and nodded for Travin to do the same.
With a start, he realised he'd frozen in the doorway. He cleared his throat and flushed before hurrying to take a seat. "Thank you, your majesty," he echoed, muttering the words.
"Friend Kial tells me you're from Tsaisa," Rosharias said without preamble.
"Not from there, but I was there for a time," Travin replied.
"The draakin trust you?" The king gestured for Travin to wait while a woman brought in plates piled high with roast beef and vegetables. Another brought glasses and a bottle of wine. The women curtsied and ducked back out.
The king looked at Travin expectantly while Kial poured the wine.
"Some of them, your majesty. I might have displeased their leader." He found himself telling the man about his jaunt south on Risper's back. The man's expression didn't change, but his eyes flashed with annoyance. Travin thought it was directed at him, until Rosharias spoke.
"What a shame you and she didn't stop and speak to my men. They would have directed you here. Once she saw the truth, your draakin might have convinced the others. Magin and dragons working together and the word of Euru would spread across all of Dargyn by the end of the year." His voice rang with confidence that it would be that simple.
Perhaps he was right. Magin and dragon fighting on the same side would be virtually unstoppable. Add the support of Euru to that and Rosharias would be formidable.
"I apologise," Travin said, "I should have tried." He caught the look of disappointment on Kial's face, but the king reached over to pat his hand.
"The way was not revealed to you then," he said in a soothing tone. "But now it has been, I believe there's a path for you. For both of you." Rosharias nodded toward Kial as well. "I think you're sufficiently contrite that you could return to Tsaisa."
Travin frowned, but remained silent, willing to hear him out.
"Once there, I'd like you to repair your friendships, make amends. Resume your place there. The temple will give you board; I'll see to it. Once there, I want you both to encourage the draakin to listen when you speak of Euru. I know they may be less than receptive, but I would like you to try.
"In addition, I want you to listen, look and learn all you can about the draakin and their plans. By the time I reach the border, I want either the draakin working with me, or to know what they intend."
"You want us to spy," Kial said, his expression one of glee.
"The word is somewhat crude, but it will do," Rosharias replied. "Between you, you could stop a good deal of bloodshed with the right words or actions. Get the draakin to join me and we've already won."
"What if they continue their policy of staying out of the situation?" Travin asked, his mind turning over with a tumult of thoughts.
Rosharias wrapped one of his hands over the other and brought them to his lips. He was silent for a moment before saying, "That would be unacceptable. Dragons are children of Euru, just as the rest of us are. Their very lives, in which the bond is reborn with every new draakin, is a symbol of the continuation of life. They are sacred to us. They must be made to understand, or their next lives will." His eyes glittered.
Travin nodded slowly, comprehension dawning. If the draakin didn't listen, Rosharias would kill them. He had to make sure they listened, for all of their sakes.
"We can do it," Travin said, more certain than he felt. "I'll make them listen."
He'd start with Laynin and her friend Zannis. Once they understood, they'd help him to work on the rest. Even if he had to use his magic to do it.
If you plan to continue with this series, there’s an epilogue…but I suggest you stop here if you don’t like cliffhangers and don’t plan to continue.
Thanks for reading!
Epilogue
The view from the roof of the Dragonhall was stunning, even on a cloudy or rainy day. Today the sky was clear and Laynin could see for kilometres in every direction. Right now, her attention was on the north, and the columns of people traversing the road toward Tsiasa. Some had arrived already and begun to set up camp.
A glance toward Ara showed her leader's face tight, her mouth set in a line. Her entire body was so rigid she looked ready to snap. Past her, Luthin's expression was one of interest, even though there was something guarded in his expression. Zannis stood beside him, looking indifferent,
even bored. She toyed with the end of her hair, twirling it around her finger, letting it go and gathering it up again.
Without warning, Ara turned and started toward the stairs which led down into the Dragonhall.
Laynin took a step to follow her, but Luthin grabbed her arm gently and held her back.
"Give her time," he said once Ara was out of earshot. "She needs to let this sink in."
"She's had the last month or more," Laynin replied, but she sighed and stepped back beside him. "I don't think she'll be over their presence until they're gone." Even so, she had agreed to this.
"She had no choice," Luthin said, as though he'd read her mind.
"I know, but they're here now."
"Yes they are," Zannis said, suddenly looking enthusiastic. "There's a few hundred soldiers filing into Tsaisa, all strong and fit, and a long way from home."
Luthin rolled his eyes so only Laynin could see, although he was probably thinking the same thing. Maybe she should take a leaf from their book and have some fun for a change.
"We should go down and make them feel welcome," Zannis said, bouncing on her toes.
"Perhaps you shouldn't be in a hurry to besmirch the good name of the draakin," Fanad said, appearing at the top of the stairs.
"Really? Who uses words like besmirched?" Zannis said with a laugh.
Fanad glared at her for a moment before turning away. "You know what I'm saying. Draakin don't need to act like whores."
"It's very high up, Fanad," Zannis replied cheerfully, "Don't slip and fall, will you?"
His face turned red. "Are you threatening me?" he asked.
"No," Zannis replied. "I'm simply suggesting you should stop trying to shame people because they enjoy intimacy more than you do. Maybe if you took the stick out of your—"
"Zannis," Laynin interrupted, "we get it. We're all different, and we shouldn't be fighting with each other. We're not the enemy here."
She turned to the south and wondered where Travin was. Thinking about him no longer hurt, but she worried about him as she'd worry for any friend who had wandered off into dangerous territory. For all she knew, he was dead, killed by Rosharias' men.
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