by T R Kerby
"Neither do I, but they succeeded. They destroyed who I was, who I wanted to be. By destroying me, they raised someone new from the ashes. They remade me into who I had to be to survive." She dripped oil onto a whetstone and started sharpening her dagger. The blade scraped across the fine stone. "I've seen other societies like yours," Murdoc continued.
"What do you mean?" Thera asked.
"Where women are treated as equals."
"Why wouldn't we be?"
"Why indeed? Where I came from, women are property, to be traded and sold and bred. They are used to secure favor and alliances. The best you could hope for is to not be ill treated." She added more oil to the stone. "It sharpens you, like this stone and this steel."
"How did you get the scars?"
"I refused to be a meek and compliant brood mare. Always know your power, little girl. You can rule men and burn their world to the ground if you take a mind to." She wiped the oil from her blade, tested the edge, and pointed it at Thera. "The gods created you to be strong. You dishonor them with weakness."
Chapter 24
Tegedir stumbled away from the cave and into fresh air. He tilted against a rock and sucked in every bit he could. The whistle froze him.
A long note, and then a short one.
"What is —"
Tegedir silenced Caeth with his raised hand. They crossed the stone slide as the remnants of Trinn's whistle echoed. Movement in the trees below slowed his progress and he stalked forward, seeking a better vantage point. Trinn's whistle hadn't exaggerated their peril. They were staggeringly outnumbered. Thirty men surrounded them.
One approached Randir. Clearly their leader, he moved with a regal grace despite his thickness.
"Ilok!" Caeth launched from his hiding place.
Tegedir's fingers brushed the boy's cloak but couldn't get a hold.
Caeth sprinted across the rock fall like a baby mountain goat, leaping from one huge stone to another. Headed directly into the middle of the mess below.
Tegedir's strategies went with him. He followed more cautiously to avoid breaking his neck and to nurse his injured foot and knee. There was no point in stealth now. The kid made certain the entire troop knew of their presence. Whatever was about to happen, they were in it together.
Caeth careened into the clearing to the surprise of everyone. He took a knee and dropped his head. "My King Lyov. Father of my father."
The king reeled a half step away. "Caeth?"
Tegedir stopped at the tree line. This man knew Caeth? Father of my father? Sweet Alimarae. The soldiers noticed Tegedir and a ring of spear points hedged him in. Fighting would be fruitless and foolish. Black leather masks disguised the captor's faces and scaled armor protected their bodies. The spear points were sharpened to fine edges and subtle forge marks remained in the one aimed at his nose.
"Lay aside your weapons," someone commanded.
He unbuckled his sword belt and laid it on the ground, tossing his dagger atop it.
"On your knees."
That was the last place Tegedir wanted to be, but options were limited. Moisture seeped through his leggings as his knees contacted the earth. Through the forest of legs, he watched Caeth and the king.
"Son of my son?" Lyov bent toward the boy.
Caeth raised his head and brushed the hair off his face.
Lyov dragged him to his feet and embraced him. "We thought you lost to us. Searches turned up nothing."
Tegedir sank onto his heels. Would this be good or bad?
"Why do you travel with dogs?" King Lyov asked Caeth.
"My mother sent them to collect a dragon egg. I diverted them through our lands in hopes of this occurrence."
Tegedir looked skyward. Murdoc was his mother? How could he not have considered it? Caeth had kept his face covered and averted most of the time, any resemblance hidden by a fall of greasy hair.
"Where is the traitorous bitch?" King Lyov asked.
"Holed up in a cave to the south," Caeth said.
"You betray your own mother?" Tegedir asked.
Caeth approached and those holding Tegedir stepped aside. "She took me from my homeland against my will. These are my people. I am their Prince and will be their King. You believe I owe her allegiance when she would deny my crown? She murdered my father. I owe her nothing except a traitor's death." The boy who regarded him now was neither timid nor averting his gaze. "I've waited for this moment for two years. Pretended to be the good son, understanding, loyal, obedient. Guided her to the dragon egg theory. Encouraged her to sneak back and take it. Poisoned my own sister to get here. The one thing I didn't plan on was you."
"You poisoned Zila?"
"It is a loss. I needed her to secure valuable alliances, but sacrifices had to be made."
"Why not return on your own?"
"And leave the traitor to live free? I want justice and retribution." Caeth lifted Tegedir's cloak from his head. "Look at him, my King. He is Zinotti, though you'd never know since they trimmed his ears. A Drakuri Lord in fact. The traitor holds his twins."
"Bring them," the King said. "We will talk at length, son of my son, when we are home."
Rough men bound Tegedir's arms and gathered his weapons.
A soldier passed Caeth the reins to a horse and he swung on with ease. He indicated Tegedir's injured foot. "Get him a horse."
"If my people walk, I walk," Tegedir said.
Caeth smiled, but the sentiment didn't reach his eyes. "You are honorable. I admire that. But it's not your choice. You'll slow us down."
Someone held a horse for him.
"Get on," Caeth said. "It's not a request."
Their escorts led them deeper into the dark hills. Trees hulked over the narrow lane and fog lay under their thick canopies. The road opened onto a snow-blanketed meadow split by the river. Broken ice climbed its banks, bent on escape from the angry water.
A great bridge rose from the mist. Tegedir's skin tingled from his scalp, across his chest, and over his thighs as each hair rose to attention.
A dragon's skull the size of a village square glared at them, its jaws gaping wide. Teeth like broken trees filled the boney jaws and fog flowed through the eye sockets. The skeleton crouched on clawed feet. Ribs arched over the bridge and formed the framework suspending it.
The column of riders passed under the enormous creature and a hush fell. His gaze followed the underside of its spine. Moisture dripped from the great black beast and patted onto his shoulders. They emerged beneath the hindquarters. The remains of the tail curved around the river bank and tapered to a slim point. He twisted to see the back of it.
"Impressive, no?" Lyov asked.
"Unbelievable." The skeleton in the cave had been a runt by comparison.
The road dropped down the side of the cliff, a precarious slash in the granite barely wide enough for two horses abreast. Tegedir nudged his knee into his mount's side and encouraged it closer to the wall, away from the deadly drop. The road ended at the cliff's base against a palisade of sharpened tree trunks with a gate suspended on heavy ropes. The gate clanked into place, closing them off from the outside world.
Someone rushed to hold Caeth's horse as he dismounted. He hopped off and waited beside Tegedir's mount. "Welcome to my home, Dragonlord."
Tegedir slid off, avoided landing on his scorched foot, and took in the immense structure carved into the stone face. His gaze followed it up until it connected with the sky at the top of the cliff. Slit windows opened on the courtyard and the occasional balcony protruded from a narrow door.
"It should feel familiar," Caeth said. "The Drakuri built it."
This structure possessed none of the intricate beauty of Aernan, the ancestral home of Lalaith's people, House Caletha. This was a fortress constructed for defense, not beauty. What were the Drakuri protecting themselves from? And where were they now?
King Lyov ascended the steep stairs. His men herded Tegedir and the others behind. He stopped at the entrance to address his soldiers. "Separate
them. See to their needs. If one fights you, kill them all. Except the Dragonlord." He touched Caeth's shoulder. "Bathe, eat, then come to me."
Caeth inclined his head and the two parted.
The soldiers led Tegedir along a hall with low stone ceilings and widely spaced torches. The space resembled the cave more than Tegedir would have liked. Hopefully minus the hordes of spiders and massive scorpions.
They stood aside at a low door and Tegedir entered without argument. They untied him. This wasn't the time to make a stand. He wouldn't save his children by dying.
A man lit the single torch and dim light flooded the tiny room. A cot with a feather mattress and a woolen blanket folded across it lined one wall. A chamber pot sat in the corner. A wooden bucket of water was placed near the cot.
"Give me your boot," a guard said.
A strange request, but Tegedir sat on the cot, unlaced his boot, and tossed it to the man.
The bar dropped into place with a solid clunk.
Chapter 25
Tegedir removed his charred brush boot and tossed it aside. His foot was red and blistered in spots, but not permanently damaged. He cleaned the sand and dirt from it and then lay back on the cot.
The lifting of the bar woke him. He sat up as a woman entered the room carrying a bundle and a bucket of steaming water with a rag and soap. She laid the clothing beside him and darted out the door.
"Wash and get dressed. King Lyov wishes to see you." The guard retreated outside to wait.
A new pair of artisan crafted boots sat on top of the bundle. The thick, deep maroon tunic was trimmed with black leather. He bathed and dressed in the expensive clothes, then slipped on the boots. They fit like they were made for him.
The guards guided Tegedir into King Lyov's hall. Roaring fires lessened the chill. Woven rugs covered the floors and tapestries adorned the walls. They pushed Tegedir onto his knees and held his shoulders.
"Let him up." King Lyov reclined in a wooden chair, his ankles crossed on the table.
Tegedir stood.
Lyov lifted his chin and the guards left the room. "I've no desire to subjugate you, Dragonlord. Most of my people still worship your kind, so you'll forgive me if I don't tell them what you are until we come to some understanding. Only my personal guard knows the truth." He dropped his feet to the floor and poured two metal cups of wine. He nudged one toward Tegedir. "Drink with me."
Tegedir had watched him pour the wine, but couldn’t know what might have been in the bottom of the cups.
Lyov snorted. "I'm not poisoning you. Drink." He downed his own wine and shuddered. "I hope the wine is better where you come from."
Tegedir sniffed the cup and controlled the grimace. He took a sip and couldn't stop the cringe.
Lyov laughed. "Nasty, eh? We can't grow a decent grape here."
The tapestries drew Tegedir's gaze.
"Have a look," Lyov said.
Tegedir crossed the room and studied the wall hangings. Dark haired men and women with pointed ears sat astride great scaled dragons. The figures were stitched with precise attention to detail, each bow and sword unique, each face different. Was one of those his twin? His father or mother?
"They took their beasts and left this land long ago. They're legend more than reality." Lyov refilled their cups.
The images enraptured Tegedir. A fine blue thread of jagged lightning passed between two of the characters. Twins, like his own. Was this tapestry how Murdoc knew about his children's power? Did he share this ability with his own twin? "They could be alive somewhere else."
"Could. But who's to say?"
Tegedir forced himself to turn away from the tapestry.
The king gestured to the chair across from him and Tegedir sat. "I dispatched men to gather your people from the river. I understand your mate is there."
Tegedir clenched his teeth and held his tongue.
"They will not be harmed." Lyov drained his mug. "We can help one another. I want my son's murderer. You want your children."
"What do you have in mind?" Any suggestion that regained his family was worth consideration, even if it meant collaborating with this man.
"How large is your force?"
That was not something he intended to divulge.
"Come now. Caeth said he saw approximately fifty. Honesty is the hallmark of a good relationship."
Strangling Caeth still seemed like a viable option, but a lie would have to suffice. "That was the entire contingent."
Lyov studied his face. "Fewer than I expected, but I believe you. We will return with you. You claim your brats. I claim my vengeance."
"If I decline?"
"You rot here and the bitch raises your children."
"I'm listening."
Two women entered the room bearing trays heaped with grilled fish and bread. They kept their heads bent, gaze on the floor and table. They bowed and scurried away. "Eat." Lyov stabbed a chunk of brazed salmon.
Tegedir's mouth watered as the scent lifted with the steam. "What about my people?"
"They received the same meal. I give you my word."
Tegedir loaded his plate. Most of their food perished in the disaster with the Advantage. Dried meat and hard bread only carried a body so far.
Lyov nodded his approval. "The traitor was a beautiful girl. Tall, fine featured, nice curves. The daughter of a troublesome clan leader. I thought to tame them by claiming one of theirs as my son's bride. She would have been in a position of some influence and power when he became king. I chose poorly."
He ripped the crusty bread into chunks and dabbed it on his fish. "She was wild and rebellious. A fighter. Wouldn't spread her thighs for my son. We offered her the world and she threw it in our faces. Ungrateful cunt."
The chunk of flesh on his fork dripped as he gestured with it. "We broke her, though. She finally bent over for him, but not until her blood ran thick did she surrender. Had no more trouble from her. Birthed him two offspring and kept her mouth shut. Until he took her on a scouting mission. Bitch stabbed him and threw his body overboard. Put his crew off and sailed away with my bloodline. Caeth and Zila. I've hunted her ever since."
"What will you do when you get her?"
Lyov licked his lips and rested his elbows on the table. "Tie her over a barrel and leave her for any man who wants a poke. Take her skin an inch at a time. Scrub her wounds with salt so they don't get infected. When she's done, her head will decorate a pike at the gates so everyone knows what happens to anyone who crosses my family."
Tegedir focused on his fish. How many men had he himself condemned to die at the hands of villagers they'd wronged? Where was the line between justice and vengeance? And who drew that line? Would he not want justice if Murdoc hurt his children? What lengths would he go to to get it? One thing was certain, torture would not be part of any vengeance he ever undertook. Maybe that was the line between the two. Torture. And pleasure. Lyov would enjoy Murdoc's suffering.
Caeth strode into the room. His hair was washed and braided away from his eyes. His posture exuded confidence and the air of his nobility. He sat across from Tegedir and a wide smile adorned his face. "I haven't thanked you for assisting in my homecoming."
He still hadn't as near as Tegedir could tell.
"I have questions," Caeth said as he piled fish on his plate. "Regarding your abilities as a Drakuri. What good does it do you? Your eyes change to amber when you're emotional, which seems of little use. What else happens?"
Tegedir had no desire to discuss his unpredictable and scarcely understood nature right now, but disrespecting the King's grandson didn't seem like a wise choice. Lying probably wouldn't benefit him either. The truth held the least traps, as was usually the case. "I don't know yet."
Caeth's eyebrows rose into his hair. "Don't know? How can you not know?"
"The traits are recent. I'm learning as I go."
Caeth gawked at Tegedir with open disbelief. "You're barely matured."
They knew more about
him than he did. Great.
"Let me guess," Caeth said. "You're what...one hundred fiftyish years old."
Tegedir's appetite waned. He set his fork aside. "One forty eight, by my guess."
"And your mate?"
"We don't know."
"Lost track did she?" Caeth grabbed a roll and broke it. "Much older than you by what I gather. Before the first war maybe?"
"Yes."
"You're making our guest uncomfortable, Caeth," King Lyov said. "We were discussing how to get his children back and bring the traitor to justice."
"Apologies, my King," Caeth said. "Forgive my enthusiasm. After reading so many texts, my curiosity overrode my restraint."
Lyov gestured to Tegedir's half empty plate. "Eat. No good plans ever formed on an empty stomach."
Chapter 26
"I want to see my people," Tegedir said.
"They are well treated." Lyov refilled Tegedir's goblet.
"I want to see for myself."
The same women who served dinner cleared the table. He thanked one as she took his empty plate. She bobbed in a tense curtsy and scurried from the room.
"And you will." Lyov settled in his chair and draped an arm across the back. "Are all your women fighters?"
"Those who chose to be."
"An ineffective way to form an army. Women are much weaker, mentally and physically."
"We don't find them weak." Tegedir left his wine untouched. Letting some Order women loose on this man might change his views.
"Are they not less strong than a man?"
"There are ways to overcome that obstacle. Cunning, intelligence, superior speed." Trickery, diversion, manipulation. He kept those to himself.
"We keep our women on a shorter leash."
"We treat them as equals. It works out." Debating social status wouldn't reclaim his children. Time was wasting. Remaining civil required careful restraint of his tongue. This arrogant king held the high ground in this skirmish.
"The traitor would have loved your ideals."
Tegedir leaned on the table. "Right now she has my children. That's what I care about."
