Harshini dct-3

by Jennifer Fallon

  Her words reminded R'shiel of something that she had forgotten until now. “Kali, have you seen Dace lately?”

  “No. He's sulking, I think.”

  “Why?”

  “I don't know. Why do you ask? You're not thinking of becoming one of his followers, are you?”

  R'shiel laughed at the mere suggestion that she would ever worship any of the creatures that the Harshini called gods. “Hardly. It's just something Damin mentioned a while back. He wanted to know if anyone had been stealing his followers.”

  “With Dacendaran, it's usually the other way around,” Kalianah chuckled. “I can ask him if you like. Is it important?”

  “I don't really know. Who would want to steal his people anyway?”

  “All of us,” the goddess told her. “It's sort of a game, really. Particularly for gods like Dacendaran and Zegarnald.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Kalianah looked surprised that she had to explain it. “Life can't exist without love, which is why the others tolerate me more than most. But you can be human and not be a thief or a warrior. So gods like Dace and Zeggi have to work a bit harder to keep their people.”

  “What would happen if nobody believed in the gods any more?”

  “I don't know. I guess we'd fade away into the background. You can't kill a Primal God. To kill me, you would have to stop love. While ever there's a fox trying to steal eggs from a nest, or two rams willing to fight over a ewe, Dacendaran and Zegarnald will survive. But the Incidental Gods need humans. They need someone to acknowledge their existence, or they cease to exist.”

  “So all I have to do to defeat Xaphista is make a few million Kariens deny his existence?”

  “Basically,” Kalianah agreed. “How are you going to do that?”

  “I have no idea,” the demon child admitted with a shrug.

  CHAPTER 29

  Once Damin and Adrina were out of sight, Kalianah lost interest in them and vanished without warning. With an impatient sigh, R'shiel scrambled up the sandy bank behind her and made her way through the trees, following her instincts rather than any set path. The night was bright, but even without the moonlight she would have found what she was looking for. Before long she came to a large clearing where Dranymire and the demon-meld rested, still in dragon form. He opened his eyes at her approach and studied her quizzically.

  “You said you would call for me.”

  “Things got a bit out of hand. I had to call on Kaelarn.”

  The dragon shook its massive head. “That is beginning to develop into a dangerous habit, Your Highness.”

  “Don't worry, after being dragged through the ocean on the back of a water dragon, I'll think twice before I call on the gods again,” she assured him.

  “Your mission was successful, then?”

  “Very. Now I need your help again.”

  “I live to serve, Your Highness.”

  R'shiel frowned at the dragon, certain he was mocking her.

  “Can you get a message back to Greenharbour? To Kalan?”

  “The High Arrion? Not directly. But we can speak to Glenanaran, and he can pass on your message.”

  “Tell her where Damin and Adrina are. Ask her to send a carriage. Preferably one that's closed, so that they can return to the city without being seen.”

  “And you?”

  “I don't think the answers I need are here in Hythria, so I want to get back to Medalon, and the only way I can do that is make sure Damin's throne is secure. I'm going to find the elusive Tejay Lionsclaw.”

  The dragon closed its enormous eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “Your message is being delivered as we speak, Your Highness. If you would like to climb on, we can be on our way.”

  “How can you have sent the message already?”

  “Not all the té Ortyn demons are part of the dragon meld. I have sent Polanymire to Greenharbour on my behalf. Did you expect me to deliver your message personally?”

  “No, it's just... I thought...”

  “You thought what?”

  “Nothing... I just haven't worked out this demon-meld thing yet, I think. Do you suppose Brak has had any luck with Hablet in Fardohnya?”

  “The demons say not.”

  “Damn,” she muttered impatiently. “This is what I get for thinking everything was starting to go according to plan.”

  “You actually have a plan then?” the dragon asked.

  He was definitely mocking her now. “As a matter of fact, I do. But first I need Damin confirmed as High Prince. And I need to make sure Hythria is allied with Fardohnya. After we've tracked down the Warlord of Sunrise Province, I suppose we'll have to go to Fardohnya. Anyway, I've a feeling I'll need Brak's help once I get to the Citadel.”

  “Then that is what we shall do.”

  “But what about Damin and Adrina?”

  “Staying with them now will serve no purpose if they do not get the aid they need, Your Highness.”

  She nodded, aware that he was right, but feeling a little guilty for abandoning them, nonetheless.

  “Can you send a demon to check on them? To see if they're all right?”

  “They are in no danger here. But I suppose we can ascertain that they haven't killed each other.”

  “That's very big of you, Dranymire.”

  The demon did not appreciate her tone. “I could just as easily not send one of the brethren to check on them, demon child.”

  “I'm sorry.”

  “As you should be. Now, unless you plan to spend the night in this insect-infested swamp, I suggest you climb aboard and we shall find your lost Warlord.”

  With some misgiving, R'shiel pulled herself up and settled herself between the dragon's massive wings. As Dranymire and the meld lifted into the sky, she wondered if she should have told Damin and Adrina that she was leaving. She decided it wouldn't matter. Help was on the way, and Dranymire's demon would keep an eye on them until it arrived.

  Besides, they probably wouldn't even notice she was missing.

  * * *

  She found Tejay Lionsclaw just on dawn. From her vantage on the dragon's back, R'shiel could make out the dying fires of her campsite. Her column was camped for the night on a plain some thirty leagues from Greenharbour. Dranymire saw them and swooped downward so swiftly that R'shiel almost lost her seat.

  The dragon landed in the middle of the camp, scattering cook fires and startled Raiders with equal contempt. Tejay Lionsclaw emerged from her tent, clutching a sword that R'shiel doubted she could even lift. Tall and well muscled, with thick blonde hair, the Warlord of Sunrise Province was a handsome woman. Behind her emerged a boy of about fifteen, clutching the hand of an even younger girl, who was rubbing her eyes sleepily.

  “Who are you?” Tejay demanded belligerently.

  “I am R'shiel té Ortyn. I am the demon child.”

  Tejay studied her for a moment then held up her hand to halt the suddenly nervous troops who were advancing on them.

  “The demon child? That's a legend we tell to frighten children.”

  “It works pretty well on grown men, too,” R'shiel noted, glancing around at the men who were staring with undisguised terror at the dragon.

  Tejay planted the sword on the ground in front of her and stared at R'shiel for a moment before glancing up at the dragon. “I suppose I must believe you, considering you arrived on the back of a dragon.”

  “I thought it might save a lot of explanations.”

  “Then you are sadly mistaken, demon child. Nobody lands in my camp in such a fashion without providing an explanation.”

  “I come on behalf of Damin Wolfblade. Cyrus Eaglespike has laid claim to the High Prince's throne.”

  “That doesn't surprise me, somehow. I've had a great deal of correspondence from him lately.” Suddenly the Warlord smiled and sheathed her sword. “I've so many of his damned pigeons in my roosts that I was tempted to throw them into the cooking pot. Come, let's talk inside.”

  Sh
e led the way to her tent, where the boy and girl stood wide-eyed at the entrance, staring at R'shiel's dragon. Dranymire was quite enjoying the effect he was having, R'shiel decided, although she wasn't sure if his smug expression was real, or if she was simply imagining it.

  “Divine One, this is my son Valorian and his wife Bayla.”

  R'shiel thought the pair too young to be out alone at night, let alone married. She looked at Bayla curiously, but could see nothing of her father, Cyrus Eaglespike, in her. The youngsters bowed hastily as she passed them, following Tejay into the tent.

  “Can I offer you refreshment, Divine One?” the Warlord asked, indicating with a wave of her arm that R'shiel should sit. She sank down onto the scattered silk cushions gratefully, her thighs still quivering from riding the dragon.

  “Thank you. And you don't have to call me Divine One, my Lady. My name is R'shiel.”

  “Very well, R'shiel. You may call me Tejay. Bayla!”

  Her daughter-in-law's face appeared meekly through the embroidered hangings on the tent. “My Lady?”

  “Make yourself useful for once and fetch us some breakfast.” When Bayla disappeared behind the curtain, Tejay sat down opposite R'shiel with a sigh. “If there is one thing I cannot abide, it is simpering females. And that girl has it down to a fine art.”

  “Then why did you let her marry your son?”

  “Because she came with a dowry that not even I could ignore. In hindsight, I suppose it had more to do with Cyrus Eaglespike's plans for the throne, than any great love for his daughter.”

  “He expects you to support him.”

  “Then he has badly misjudged me. I am not so easily bought. I owe Damin Wolfblade for my province and for saving me from the necessity of marrying a man I did not love. That means more to me than a large dowry and an insipid daughter-in-law.”

  R'shiel smiled. Perhaps things were still going according to plan.

  “Does Cyrus know how you feel?”

  “I'm not given to artfulness, R'shiel. I have made no secret of where my loyalties lie.”

  “Then you need to be aware of what has happened over the past few days. Cyrus used your name to lure Damin out of Greenharbour, then kidnapped his wife.”

  “The Fardohnyan?”

  “Princess Adrina.”

  “It was unwise of him to take a Fardohnyan wife,” the Warlord said with a frown. “It gave me pause for a time. In fact it came close to costing Damin my loyalty. Fardohnyans killed my husband and I cannot count the people I have lost to them since.”

  “His marriage to Adrina will bring peace.”

  “Then the peace had better be accompanied by substantial reparation,” Tejay warned. “So, where do things stand now? Is Damin preparing to attack Cyrus?”

  “No. We managed to retrieve his wife by... other means. They'll be back in Greenharbour by now.”

  “And what of Lords Foxtalon, Bearbow and Falconlance? I've no doubt Narvell Hawksword stands with his half-brother.”

  “Rogan Bearbow is on Damin's side. Foxtalon and Falconlance are still allied with Cyrus.”

  “Then with my vote, Damin has a majority. Foxtalon will change sides as soon as he realises he's backed a loser, but Eaglespike and Falconlance will not give up so easily. And they have the advantage. Their provinces make up most of the south. We outnumber them in theory, but it will be months before we can muster an army sufficient to defeat them. Our troops are spread out all over Hythria.”

  “Cyrus is already prepared for war.”

  “You can bet Falconlance is too. The city of Greenharbour might be neutral territory, but it is surrounded by Greenharbour Province - and that is owned, lock, stock and barrel, by Conin Falconlance.”

  “Then Greenharbour is likely to fall under siege?”

  “You can wager on it.”

  R'shiel thought for a moment, trying to think of a way to get the scattered armies of Krakandar, Sunrise, Elasapine, Izcomdar and Pentamor (assuming Tejay was right about Lord Foxtalon) mustered. With a sigh, R'shiel decided Tejay was correct in her assessment. It would take far too long.

  Damn it! I don't have time for this! R'shiel fought back the feeling that this entire trip to Hythria had been a waste of time. She was no closer to finding a way to defeat Xaphista, and was certain now of only one thing: if the solution she sought wasn't at Sanctuary, and the Sorcerers' Collective in Greenharbour was unable to help her, that left the Citadel. It had been the heart of Harshini power and was the only place left she could think to look for an answer. She was also sure that the Sisters of the Blade would have kept every book, every scroll, every scrap of parchment they had taken when they overran the Citadel. They might despise the Harshini and do whatever they could to obliterate all traces of their existence, but they were too methodical, too pragmatic, and far too sensible to destroy the only documents that might hold the key to the destruction of their enemies. But with Damin likely to encounter an invading force, and Fardohnya poised to attack...

  R'shiel heartily wished she had kept her nose out of the whole messy situation. And she wished she had never conceived the absurd idea that Damin should marry Adrina to force the ruling Houses of Hythria and Fardohnya into a truce. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time... If she was honest with herself, she was willing to admit that her plans had as much to do with annoying the God of War as they did with her ultimate desire to defeat Xaphista. Two nations that had been fighting each other sporadically for two centuries suddenly united would be a serious blow to Zegarnald's mammoth ego. Perhaps she was drunk on her own power. Whatever the reason, it didn't help her at present. Her desire to bring peace had actually caused another war.

  Brak had warned her that it would. She should have listened to him. Now she had to do something to end it, preferably before it got started.

  “What if you had another ally? One who could be in Greenharbour in a matter of weeks with an army that outnumbers your enemies?” suggested R'shiel.

  “Who are you thinking of?”

  “Fardohnya.”

  Tejay laughed contemptuously. “You think Hablet would send his troops into Hythria for a reason other than conquest?”

  “He would if the demon child told him to.”

  “I hope your abilities match your confidence, my dear. Besides, the Fardohnyans are even further from Greenharbour than our own troops.”

  “But they can sail from Talabar and be in Greenharbour faster than you can get your armies together overland.”

  The Warlord nodded, but she was decidedly unhappy about the idea. And sceptical. “So, you plan to ride your dragon into Talabar and make Hablet send his troops to our rescue.”

  “If necessary.”

  “I will believe it when I see it.”

  They were interrupted by Bayla, who backed into the tent carrying a platter of bread and freshly roasted meat. R'shiel realised how hungry she was as the smell reached her. She had not eaten since before she spoke to Korandellan, and that had been two days ago. Bayla placed the tray on the small table in front of them and managed to bow half a dozen times on the way out. Tejay watched her leave with a look of exasperation.

  “The gods alone know what it will take to get some spirit into that girl.”

  “She's very young.”

  “Which is a blessing. Valorian is quite smitten with her helplessness at present, but it won't last. The novelty will wear off soon enough and then they'll both be unhappy.”

  “If it's strong women you admire, Tejay, then you and the Princess Adrina should become fast friends.”

  “Me? Befriend a Fardohnyan? I find that prospect even more unlikely than the idea that Hablet would help us for a reason other than territorial gain.”

  “You might be surprised, Tejay.”

  The Warlord helped herself to a shank of meat and smiled at R'shiel. “My dear, if I find myself friends with a Fardohnyan Princess, and one of Hablet's brood at that, 'surprised' won't even begin to describe it.”

  CHAPTER
30

  From Tejay's camp, R'shiel flew northward towards Fardohnya. Now that she was assured of the Warlord's support and it seemed that Damin and Adrina were finally fighting on the same side, she figured she could leave the rest of it up to them. Tejay was confident that Cyrus Eaglespike and Conin Falconlance would not attack until after the Convocation, on the slim chance she would support them and give Cyrus the majority he needed to claim the High Prince's throne.

  With Tejay's promise to stall things as long as possible, R'shiel calculated that she had a couple of weeks at most before Greenharbour fell under siege. Two weeks in which she must get to Fardohnya and convince King Hablet to gather his fleet and send his army to rescue his daughter and her husband, as their ally, not their conqueror.

  All this when I want to be in the Citadel, she silently lamented.

  But it wasn't just the situation in Hythria that lent her mission urgency. Time was running out on more than one front. Korandellan was weakening and she was worried sick about Tarja. She had received no word of him since crossing into Hythria, and she had no idea of how things stood in Medalon.

  Dranymire sensed her urgency and did not complain when she told him their destination. He suggested warning Brak of their imminent arrival, and R'shiel gladly agreed. She was surprised how much she missed Brak, or at least his counsel, and was hopeful he would be able to ease her mind about Tarja. He might even know what was happening in Medalon. And she was certain that she would need his help in getting to the Citadel.

  The journey north took four days, and by the time the pink walls of Talabar appeared in the distance, R'shiel felt almost confident that she had mastered the skill of dragon riding. She still ached for hours when she climbed off the beast, but she no longer clung with grim determination to the dragon's back for fear of plunging to her death. As Dranymire had explained, it was simply a question of balance. Besides, after riding a water dragon through the foaming waves of the Dregian Ocean, R'shiel decided that airborne dragons were a vastly preferable method of transport. At least you could talk to them. They didn't just smile at you with stupid, fixed grins, then drag you down under several tons of cold water, just for the sheer joy of it.