JOURNEY OF THE SACRED KING II

by JANRAE FRANK

  * * * *

  Laurelyanne climbed into the back of the wagon, frowning. Josiah kept giving the healers fits, begging for a drink so that he could access the magic – which was what had gotten him in trouble in the first place. Dree lay curled up against Josiah. He opened his eyes, focusing with effort.

  "Is ... is it true? Aejys?"

  "Yes. She's alive. She's here."

  "I want ... to see her."

  "No. If you start moving around, you'll kill yourself. That was a foolish thing to do. First you get nearly cut to ribbons and then you cast that damned spell on top of it all so you can get cut up some more."

  Josiah sighed. "Couldn't let him ... let him hurt her."

  "Well, your heart is in the right place," Laurelyanne said, grudgingly.

  Josiah tried to sit up and fell heavily back, hammered by pain and weakness. "Please, help me. I want to see her."

  Dree raced suddenly out of the wagon.

  "No. You will start those wounds bleeding again. And thanks to that foolish spell, you will exhaust what little strength you have started to get back. No."

  "Please..."

  "Ask again, child, and I will spell you out for a week."

  Dree returned, followed by Dynarien.

  "If I carry him, will you let him go?" Dynarien asked.

  Laurelyanne shook her head, rolling her eyes as if despairing of their foolishness. She wanted to say no, but said, "Yes," Instead.

  Dynarien wrapped Josiah in a blanket – they were still having trouble keeping him warm – and lifted him out of the wagon.

  The Valdren smiled and nodded as they passed. Some called him "Lord" and wished him a "good day." The Sharanis studied him, wondering at what the Valdren attitude toward him meant and just what he might be lord of. Clemmerick fell in beside them.

  "Josiah?"

  Josiah glanced at Clemmerick, managing a small smile. Although Dynarien was as gentle as possible, Josiah's wounds hurt in response to every little movement.

  "Let me carry him," Clemmerick said. "He's my friend."

  Dynarien regarded the huge ogre for a moment. "You're Clemmerick? I'm Dynarien," he added at the ogre's nod.

  "I know all about you, Rose Warrior," Clemmerick told him as he took Josiah from him. Grymlyken emerged from Clemmerick's pocket and settled on his shoulder, holding onto his collar to smile at Josiah and listen to the conversation better. He did not interrupt. This whole thing was getting to be a bit much for the little fellow and more and more he wished he were back in the tavern with the whole adventure over. Too many people he cared about were getting hurt and it bothered him. Life had been far simpler when all Grymlyken had to worry about was breaking up a few drunken brawls each night.

  "Does everyone in camp know who I am?" Dynarien sounded a tiny bit exasperated.

  "Everyone who recognizes the blazon." Clemmerick nodded at the shield. "My mother is a poet. Are you taking him to Aejys?"

  "Yes."

  Skelly watched them coming and when they were close, he shoved his big nose against Josiah, taking a good sniff. "Smells like an Abelard."

  "Josiah Abelard. Her lover," Dynarien explained.

  Clemmerick looked startled, remembering how Josiah had sworn, in the throes of a drunken confession nearly a year ago, that he would never tell Aejys that he loved her. Carefully and gently, the big ogre settled his friend beside his liege-lord. Aejys still slept, wrapped in the magic of the Dancer.

  "The mage-master himself?" Skelly was surprised.

  The blankets slipped away from Aejys as she turned without waking, revealing her perfect breasts. Josiah tried to turn onto his side and pull the blankets over her, but fell back with a soft groan at the rush of pain and dizziness. Dynarien's manhood reacted and he sighed, before bending over them and straightening the blankets himself. He hoped that Talons would appreciate the suffering his abstinence was causing him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  BATTLE OF NORENDELL

  The layout of the camp had been changed significantly to accommodate Skelly, since the dragon insisted on taking part in the conversations. It had taken Dynarien most of the night to convince Skelly to allow him to move Aejys and Josiah into the command tent. Tagalong had objected loudly to Dynarien's putting them in bed together. She simply could not believe that they were, as Dynarien claimed, lovers. It seemed like the sheerest nonsense. Aejys had better sense than to take a sloppy sot into her bed. But Aejys still drowsed through the last of the Dancer's changes, and Tagalong could not ask her. Laurelyanne and Borian had come to Dynarien's defense in the ensuing argument, leaving Tagalong out-voted.

  The others sat in a circle around them.

  "We came for a fight," Soren said, "but it doesn't look like we're going to get one." The aged ha'taren had to work hard not to simply stare at Skelly. The very last thing she had ever expected to do in her life was to hold a civilized conversation with a dragon. Dragons were not only the emblems of Waejontor, they had frequently appeared as allies to the sa'necari over the centuries. Yet here she was talking to Skelly.

  "You'll get one," Skelly said. "The pass is closed, but there are thousands of caves and tunnels. They'll be back."

  "When?"

  "Soon. A day or two. Maybe a week. No more than that. There is too much at stake here." Skelly started ticking the reasons off on his claws and, although everyone pretty much knew them, no one wanted to interrupt a dragon. "Dree's children. Carliff's valley. The sword, they can't afford the Dancer getting loose in the world again. The breeding grounds. I cannot leave the wielder before she awakens. I am charged with guarding her though the changes. Else I would make a scouting flight. I am very good at aerial reconnaissance"

  "We can," Talons said, stroking Little Bit. She climbed into the saddle. Little Bit ran off into the open, spread his wings, and leaped into the air.

  "How much longer is this transformation going to take," Tagalong asked again. "It's been over twelve hours."

  "I don't know," Skelly said. "It's never taken more than four until now."

  * * * *

  Josiah felt Aejys stir next to him and, if he had had the strength, would have put his arms around her.

  Aejys raised herself up on an elbow and looked down at him with so much love it brought tears of gratitude to his eyes. She could see how weak he appeared. She stroked his face. "Thank the gods, you're alive. I thought I'd lost you." Aejys sat up, her wings poking the edge of the tent, and bent over him, her lips brushing his. "I love you."

  * * * *

  Talons flew low over the mountain. The base had widened, the summit fallen by half. The forest was a smoking ruin for a three-hour flight in all directions, overturned, and blackened trees. The air stank. Little Bit balked and required a good deal of reassuring to keep going. The ground still glowed with heat. Talons flew toward the mouth of the gorge. It looked like it might be passable if the ground would ever cool enough. She continued until she was in sight of the castle without finding any sign of an army. It might well be that they had destroyed the bulk of Hoon's forces when the volcano exploded, but somehow she doubted it. Then she took a different way back to spare Little Bit the bad air around the now silent volcano.

  * * * *

  Within a week Josiah was moving about the camp with Aejys supporting him. Jumpfree procured her some Jesmyrran clothing and light armor – she would need to learn to handle weight better before she could wear chain or plate on the wing. Her wings, azure with scarlet tips, fascinated Jumpfree. He reached out and touched them every chance he got, shaking his head in wonderment. The Jesmyrran did not mate outside their own kind and the Badree Nym were just children. He could not figure out where she had gotten them. And if anyone knew, they were not telling.

  Aejys now drew every male eye, and many female ones, when she passed. She found that a bit uncomfortable. The Dancer had made her one of a kind, a creature of statuesque beauty where before she had been merely handsome in the Sharani fashion. Josiah's reaction was a joy; h
is manhood came to full attention the moment she disrobed. She suspected that Tamlestari's reaction would be just as joyous and she wondered if, with her sylvan looks, Queen Magdarien would still find her objectionable as Tamlestari's mate.

  Tagalong put up with the way Josiah and Aejys looked together as long as she could – it reminded her painfully of the way Aejys and Brendorn had been so very long ago. Tagalong had loved Brendorn as much as Aejys and Josiah did not measure up. They camped eight days later near a stream, close to where the fireborn had interdicted the lava flow. Tagalong picked that evening to confront Aejys on the subject of Josiah.

  Aejys was down at the stream alone when Tagalong caught up with her. "It's time we talked," Tagalong said. "Sleepin' with Josiah is bad judgment."

  "Tag," Aejys said patiently. "I love him, but I'm not going to argue with you. The subject is out of bounds. You cannot begin to understand what I have gone through this last year."

  Her words and tone took the wind out of Tagalong's sails. "Maybe I can't. But ya should at least try me."

  "I'm no longer a paladin. I'm no longer ha'taren," Aejys said softly, her eyes distant. "My god has abandoned me."

  Tagalong blinked. She could hear the distress beneath the words. "Why?"

  Aejys sighed heavily. She did a lot of that since awakening from the Dancer's spell. "It ... Dragonshead was like going through Bucharsa all over again ... only worse. Far worse." She covered her face with her hands, struggling to control the deep, shuddering sighs. "I – I lost it completely ... gave into despair... Oh sweet gods, Tag... I...I accepted Hoon's blood."

  Tagalong's eyes saucered. Aejys had committed a blasphemy. It did not seem possible. "But yer all right now? Aren't ya?"

  "My body and soul. But my heart? I just don't know, Tag. I just don't know. The only thing that has kept me going since Dragonshead has been Josiah."

  Tagalong thought about that and decided to keep her objections to herself. "Then if he's what ya need, he's what ya need. Ya won't hear another peep outta me."

  "Thank you." Aejys grabbed Tagalong, hugging her impulsively. "You're the best friend anyone could ever have."

  * * * *

  "It is hard to snare her mind," Galee told Bryndel as they approached the camp. "I will only be able to hold her for a few minutes, then you must get the drug down her."

  Bryndel nodded, walking faster and leaving her behind. "Talons!"

  "Bryndel? What the hell are you doing here?" Talons demanded. "I – I mean..." She blinked as an odd warmth swept over her, running to Bryndel and embracing him, hungrily, attempting to kiss him.

  "Not yet," he murmured. "You must have the medicine first." He pulled the vial from his pocket, pressing it into her hand.

  Talons blushed, pulled the stopper, and drank. "I'm an untrained bi-kyndi," she explained to Tagalong and the others watching her. "This blunts it. I don't want to risk hurting him."

  "Uh, okay," Tagalong said.

  Talons turned back into Bryndel's arms, kissing him deeply. "I love you," she told him. Then she turned to the gathered people and told them, "This is my betrothed. We are to be married soon."

  * * * *

  Her body would not answer and she knew she had been drugged. There were two large males in the room besides Bryndel. Then she saw another figure, muffled in a cloak with a scarf pulled around its face. Talons could not say whether this one was male or female.

  "Why don't you just turn her," Bryndel told the cloaked figure.

  "I cannot. Hadjys has marked her." The voice was familiar. Female. "Give her another dose before you begin. Besides, we need her pregnant to force the marriage. We can't take the chance that she can persuade her grandsire to back out on it." And when all of you are dead or turned, I will be regent for the children. The children are for me, you stupid little human. You are all my cattle; you just haven't realized it yet. Eventually the Sharani blood will have to be culled from my Creeyan herds. But first I must finish taking Creeya. Then a Guild war against Shaurone.

  The two males grabbed Talons' head, pinioning it while Bryndel forced the liquid down her throat.

  "I'm sorry, Talons," Bryndel murmured, stroking her head. Each time Galee dragged him into another round of this he began to feel more conflicted and confused. He was terrified of Galee; terrified of the way she could work him up into doing things he would not normally do, almost as if she got into his mind. And then he had to wonder: was she in his mind? Why was he doing this? His stomach tightened. "If it's any comfort, you won't remember any of this." He glanced at the larger of the two males. "Begin."

  The male opened his pants and mounted her. As soon as he had sheathed himself inside her, the kyndi flared and the male fell dead across her. The cloaked figure pulled him off, throwing him aside as if he weighed nothing.

  "The dosage still isn't right," the figure cursed.

  At Bryndel's nod, the second mon took her, but this time the kyndi remained silent. Bryndel smiled. "You are finished here," he told them. The mon started to leave, but the other figure stepped up to him, flexed a long fingered hand and nails slid out of their sheaths. The mon's eyes widened, but before he could move, the nails had plunged into the arteries in his arms, discharging their venom. He collapsed without a sound.

  "I must have a taste of her." Gylorean Galee removed the scarf. She opened her mouth, her fangs slowly extended until they were long needles. She nuzzled Talons' loins, licking away the male juices, and then she reared back and struck. At the sharp pain and sucking, Talons tried to cry out but her throat would not work. When she finished, Galee slithered atop Talons' body, cut her wrist, and put it to Talons' mouth, forcing her to swallow. "I can't turn her," Galee explained, "but this makes it easier to influence her mind. With each feeding, I will be able to hold her for longer and longer periods." Since Talons did not accept the blood willingly, Hadjys would not abandon her – Galee was raping her soul with the blood as Bryndel did her body.

  Gylorean Galee rose, wrapped her cloak around herself, and vanished with the bodies. Bryndel slid into the blankets of Talons' bedroll and pulled them over him as he began his ride.

  * * * *

  Talons woke in her blankets, feeling slightly sick. Her head ached. She was naked and had no memory of removing her clothes. Then her shoulder brushed another warm body as she turned over. "No," she growled, recognizing Bryndel's form. She kicked him out of the bedroll hard. "Get the hell out of here!" She cried. "Get out, get out, get out!"

  Bryndel gave her a pained look. "Beloved, what did I do wrong this time? Last night you told everyone you loved me. You kissed me in front of them."

  Talons grabbed his clothes and threw them in his face. "Get dressed and get out."

  Bryndel shrugged. "As you wish, beloved." He dressed and left.

  As he emerged from Talons' tent, he caught sight of Tagalong watching him. He gave her an embarrassed grin and a shrug. "She's upset with me again. Don't understand it."

  Tagalong laughed.

  * * * *

  Talons sat with the blankets held tight around her, tears of humiliation and anger running down her face. She had come all this way to escape this, only to have it come after her. She felt disoriented and frightened.

  "Dynarien. Dynarien. Dynarien," she sobbed quietly. This was not something she could fight with claws or blade. She did not know how to fight it at all.

  The scent of roses filled the tent. Dynarien appeared in front of her and she grabbed him.

  "Bryndel's here."

  "I know. Everyone in camp is talking about it. You told them you were in love with him. You've lost all hope of convincing your grandsire – or anyone else – otherwise. They can just waltz you around until no one will believe you." Dynarien took her wrist and Read her. There was something odd about the Reading this time. "Lie down."

  Talons obeyed.

  He threw the blankets away, his eyes taking in every inch of her. His manhood reacted, but he kept it under control with an effort.

  "W
hat are you doing?"

  "Looking for something." He spied a spot of red on her inner thigh and spread her legs. "Sweet creation!"

  "What is it?"

  "Fresh fang marks. The creature has fed on you again. Could Bryndel be a vampire?"

  "No. I've known him since we were in diapers. He goes out in the daylight all the time."

  "Then he's in league with one. Furthermore there are vampires that can go out in the daylight. Several lineages and species in fact. Collectively, they call themselves the royals. What most people think of as vampires are what are called the lesser bloods."

  Talons was silent for a long while. She drew the blankets back around her. "My grandsire does not care how he gets more heirs, so long as he gets them – it makes me feel like some kind of broodmare being shoved into a breeding pen; the way he lets Bryndel do this to me." Talons' eyes gleamed with angry tears. "I'm losing all sense of myself somehow. I never thought anything could hurt so badly. But I'm going to get them, Dynarien. I'm going to get them all. I'm not centered anymore and I don't know how to get back there."

  "Some of that could be the drugs," Dynarien suggested, "or the shock of your encounters with the vampire, whoever he is."

  "It doesn't matter what caused it – only that it is. I was never a player ... it isn't like taking out a target, making a kill. Now I'm deep in a game I don't really know how to play and I don't think I can win it and I can't take them down with me like I did the troll. There is no clean kill in this."

  "Talons..."

  "Let me finish. I promised my grandsire that I would not harm Bryndel while allowing him to court me. So grandsire gets his wedding. But afterward I intend for Bryndel to have an accident. His father also. I'll be pregnant by then. Everyone will think it's Bryndel's, but it won't be. I'll then be regent for the Wrathscar lands and titles as well as heir to the crown."

  "What are you planning?" Dynarien asked suspiciously. If she intended to give her grandsire an heir and it would not be Bryndel's, then whose would it be? Was there another male in her life?