‘Sket always says tea can cure everything.’
The man handed her a bowl. ‘Then Sket is a very wise man, my dear. I’m told his fever is nearly gone.’
‘I’m sorry but have I met you sir? I don’t recall your name if I have.’
‘This is Shield Master and Armourer Garrol, senior officer to the First Daughter,’ Sergeant Essa informed her in a solemn voice. Then she leaned closer. ‘And the softest touch in the Realm when it comes to distressed ladies and hurt animals.’
Tika laughed, more steadily this time and leaned back in the chair. She felt better, emptied of a great burden she had scarcely realised she’d carried. The Shield Master pulled another chair up so all three sat close.
‘May I ask you where you got the sword you carried?’
Tika blinked at the unexpected question. ‘In Fenj’s treasure cave,’ she replied at once.
The Shield Master looked blank.
‘Fenj. He is the Eldest of my Treasury.’
Another blank look.
‘A Treasury is a – clan of Dragons. All Dragons are fascinated by anything that sparkles – snowflakes, rain, stones, jewels. They keep their very special sparkles in a cave belonging to the Eldest.’ Tika frowned, remembering. ‘We saw them in dreams, the weapons and these.’ She pulled out the pendant she wore beneath her shirt.
‘May I look at your sword?’
‘Of course.’ Tika was on her feet and down the passage at once, and back holding her sword and her pack in less than ten heartbeats. She handed the sword to Garrol.
First, he inspected the belt and the scabbard, nodding with approval when he saw that they were well cared for, the belt supple and well oiled. He drew the blade slightly from the scabbard, studying the metal near the hilt closely. He turned it this way and that and finally gave a wordless exclamation. He slid the blade home and studied the young woman who owned it.
‘Do you let this blade drink every time you draw it?’ he asked. He drew a knife from his belt, leaning forward to show Tika the dark blade. ‘This is blood metal. Its forging is known only to those in the Dark Realm.’ he told her. ‘If it drinks each time it is drawn, it will never need to be sharpened.’
Tika still looked puzzled. Garrol nicked the ball of his thumb, smearing the resulting blood down the narrow blade. Tika watched the blood sink into the hard metal as though into a piece of cloth.
‘I’ve never noticed it do that, or done it myself. Sket always fusses about checking our swords.’ She frowned in thought. ‘He has said it doesn’t need sharpening. He’s also asked what metal it is but no one knows.’
‘But you have used it in battle?’ Garrol asked.
‘Yes.’ Tika’s reply was short.
Garrol passed her sword back to her almost reverently. ‘I will check the mark I found, with Chindar, but I am certain it was forged at least four thousand years ago. And with a skill such as I cannot match.’
Tika gaped at him. Garrol stood up and touched his left thumb to his brow, lips and chest, and left them. Tika looked at Sergeant Essa. ‘But if this metal is forged here, how did it get to Sapphrea?’
The Sergeant’s huge shoulders lifted level with her ears. ‘I’m not good at puzzles my lady.’
‘Oh stars, don’t you dare “my lady” me,’ Tika retorted.
She delved in her pack and brought something out, cradled in her palm. Essa leaned forward curiously. Tika held out what Essa first thought was a piece of oddly shaped purple metal. Essa took it, stroking the smooth surface.
‘It’s one of Seela’s scales. We don’t know how or why, but we found them after she – died.’
A man spoke from the door. ‘Could I see that please?’
Tika turned. He seemed vaguely familiar, one of the many faces in the great chamber when she first woke perhaps.
‘We haven’t met properly,’ he said, stepping closer. ‘I am Corman, Palace Master.’
Tika stared at his gold eyes, gold eyes like old Akomi’s. She felt no threat from him but there was something. He smiled.
‘I am one of the Dark dead, allowed to remain in this Realm while my service is still of value and use.’
Tika found she really couldn’t think of an adequate reply to that, so simply handed him the purple scale. He examined it, his fingers, like Essa’s, almost caressing the silky smoothness.
‘The First Lord could learn much from this.’
Tika folded his fingers over the scale. ‘Then take it and show him, but I must have it back.’
Corman inclined his head in thanks, slipping the scale into his tunic pocket. ‘The Dragon Kija,’ he said. ‘I feel she should fly.’
Tika thought. ‘You’re right. I’ve lost track of time, but it must be four days at least that she’s stayed with Farn.’
‘Do you fly?’ Corman asked her.
Tika looked at him, realising he was asking if she flew using her own power. ‘I only fly on Farn’s back,’ she admitted.
Essa looked thoughtful but the Palace Master turned to her. ‘Sergeant, seek out Cyrek, or Seola – no,’ he amended. ‘Seola is still recovering from opening the gateway for Jemin and Lady Emla’s Guard Captain.’
Tika’s heart lurched, then she remembered Emla’s Captain Gan was dead. ‘What is the name of the Captain?’ she asked quickly.
Corman considered. ‘Soran I believe.’
The other names had meant nothing to Tika. ‘Who did you ask Essa to fetch? I know none of them.’
‘Seola went to Lady Emla’s land. She was to attempt a healing on Farn but it proved far beyond her strength. Her brother Cyrek accompanied her, but he came back here, opening the gateway for all of you. Seola returned only yesterday with Jemin and Soran. Seola and Cyrek are full Dark bloods. We are all usually able to open gateways. Seola suffers headaches when she does so, but Cyrek has no difficulty. Bringing a large number of people, or Dragons, uses up more strength. But Cyrek should be completely recovered by now.’
‘He is.’ A man entered beside Sergeant Essa. He saluted Tika, touching his brow, lips and chest.
‘You have a task for me Corman?’
‘The Dragon Kija,’ Corman replied. ‘She should fly. She may not need to feed, but she should spread her wings.’
Cyrek nodded. ‘Will she be willing to leave her son?’
‘I’ll be with him,’ said Tika sharply. ‘If I need Kija, I need only call her.’
Cyrek’s eyes, a brighter gold than Corman’s, narrowed slightly. ‘As you say.’
Tika led them into the great chamber and went straight to Kija. The onlookers saw clearly a communication taking place between the Dragon and the woman. It ended with Tika bracing her bare feet, putting her hands on her hips and glaring up at the golden Dragon. With obvious reluctance, Kija rose and moved surprisingly gracefully to the large arch which led outside. She baulked halfway through the arch but Tika, close behind, stamped her feet, and the Dragon moved on. Corman stayed within the building but Tika stepped outside with Sergeant Essa and Cyrek.
Tika inhaled deeply. There was a clean tang in the air. The rain had stopped and the sun shone down, making the black stone of the terrace steam. Kija lifted from the stone, rising in a slow spiral. Cyrek walked forward. Two paces, three. A strong smell of burning cinnamon swept over them as the air shivered, blurred and Cyrek was gone. In his place stepped a Dragon whose size utterly dwarfed Kija.
He lifted easily into the air and drifted in Kija’s wake. Tika stared. He was beautiful, his wings almost translucent. A fragile looking creature for all his size, yet imbued with enormous power. Slowly the Dragons turned to the north and disappeared behind the Palace buildings. Stunned, Tika returned to the chamber and sat beside Farn, her hands gently stroking his face.
A heap of pillows rained down around her and Sergeant Essa made herself comfortable. The Palace Master sat cross legged on the other side of Farn.
‘His sleep is weakening,’ he said. ‘He is very near now.’
Sergeant Essa’s great h
and traced down the long scar on Farn’s neck. ‘He took a mighty wound.’
Tika’s fingers touched the scar too. Before she could reply, a cackle came from behind her. She jumped.
‘Hag.’ Corman waved a casual hand.
The bird opened her beak uncomfortably close to Tika’s face. ‘I am Anfled, Raven of Dark,’ she said aloud.
‘And usually known as Hag,’ Corman added.
Hag’s wings mantled alarmingly. ‘I would speak with you when you are alone, or at least, in better company.’ She lifted from the floor, but instead of flying out to the terrace, Hag glided lazily to the small arch leading to the First Daughter’s rooms.
Corman grunted. ‘Bloody bird.’
‘But she has great power in her, doesn’t she?’ Tika asked.
Corman grunted again. ‘She does indeed, and we all pray to Mother Dark that she never realises it.’
A bustle at the main door brought Emla and Nesh, supporting Sket between them despite his vigorous protests that he was quite recovered thank you. Tika rose to hug him as his knees gave way and he sank onto pillows beside her. When he’d been assured she was well and that Farn would soon wake, he saw Sergeant Essa on Tika’s other side. Tika introduced them and found Sket’s expression hugely rewarding when Essa smiled and he saw her teeth. Tika met Corman’s eye and stared hard at him to keep from shrieking with laughter. Corman’s mouth twitched, just a fraction, but his face stayed as straight as hers.
Akomi suddenly squeezed his way through, kneading his paws on Sket’s leg and purring with enthusiasm. Tika looked up and saw the child Shea, whose shoulder she’d healed so easily. Shea gave her a hesitant smile.
‘I haven’t thanked you for my healing Lady Tika.’
Tika snorted. ‘I am Tika, no “lady”, and I do not expect any thanks from you. Now come and see Farn. His colour is a little better, but when he’s well he is the most beautiful Dragon in the world.’
Shea climbed over one of Essa’s knees and peered at Farn’s face. ‘Is he grown up?’ she asked.
‘No. He is barely one year old.’
Tika looked at Emla who sat by Corman. Another woman – Essa had tried to introduce her when she’d healed Shea – Gossamer – that was her name. She knelt beyond Sket but said nothing at all. Tika brought her concentration back to Farn. She felt something in the space in her mind where she usually felt his presence. She focused on him entirely, ignoring all the people around her. Did she dare try to reach him yet? A hand touched her shoulder and, without looking, she knew Corman had moved behind her. Another hand gripped her knee and there was a jolt in her mind. Sket had no mind powers, but he had sworn himself to her service and to her soul bond. Instead of two, they had become three, and they were together again.
‘Call him softly.’ Corman scarcely breathed the words.
Tika drew breath, staring at Farn’s closed eyes. Gently, gently, she murmured his name in her mind. His eyelids fluttered. She called again and his whole body shuddered. A third time, and someone leaned forward, wiping Farn’s eyes with a dampened cloth. Farn’s head jerked, his eyelids twitched again. And opened. Tika didn’t weep: she’d cried all her tears earlier and now her vision, both physical and mental, was totally clear.
Farn’s eyes were the faintest blue prisms, but as she watched, the blue deepened and she saw the hint of a sparkle. Farn looked beyond Tika at the various faces above and around him. His voice was distant and weak in their minds, but quite unmistakeably his.
‘More girls!’
Tika began to laugh, her face pressed against his while Sket beamed in relief.
‘What does he mean?’ asked Tevros.
Sket chuckled. ‘Our Farn has a terrible soft spot for girls.’
A scream echoed from outside the building and people hopped smartly aside as the golden Dragon rushed into the chamber, ignoring all in her path. Smoke wisped from her nostrils and her eyes were a blur of gold, crimson and orange. She lowered her face to touch Farn’s then paced back a step and reclined at a distance from him.
Farn struggled. His legs thrashed and his wings flicked weakly. Shea and Gossamer Tewk both leaned against the solid body of Sergeant Essa as they watched the young Dragon force movement into his body. He twisted and was on his belly. His breathing was loud in the now silent chamber. Tika remained by his head, simply being there for him. He opened his eyes again and met the blazing stare of Kija.
He pushed with his shorter front limbs and was halfway upright. He paused. Muscles visibly strained as he gathered his back legs beneath him. A slightly longer pause. A final effort and heave and he was on his feet, trembling violently, but on his feet. His eyes never left his mother when he moved one pace forward, another, and a third, to end standing within Kija’s reach. Her eyes changed to a pale creamy gold and her neck twined against Farn’s as he collapsed, shivering, beside her.
‘Dark have mercy,’ Tevros whispered, and Gossamer heard the words repeated through the chamber.
Corman walked towards the Dragons and Tika. Farn’s head rested against Kija’s shoulder but he watched the stranger approach with interest in his eyes.
‘You need to recoup your strength young one, but you won’t need sleep – you’ve had too much of that lately.’
Tika listened, aware that Corman had adopted exactly the right tone to suit both Dragons.
‘There are many people for you to meet. I am Corman, Palace Master, and this is the Karmazen Palace in the Dark Realm. I will arrange to have some meat brought for you shortly, but you must eat a little at a time for a while.’ Corman began to move away but then turned back. ‘And you must listen to your mother.’
‘Oh I do, Lord Corman.’ Farn’s mind voice was a little stronger already. ‘But where is the lady? She was so kind when I was so afraid. Can I see her soon?’
Tika bit her lip. Corman’s shoulders were rigid.
‘Soon young one. We call the lady the First Daughter. She will see you when she can.’
Corman saluted them and moved quietly from the chamber.
For the first time, Tika felt tears sting her eyes. Farn remembered the First Daughter. She hadn’t bargained for that. She could guess all too well what his reaction would be if he saw that crippled body lying unconscious in her bed. And he would insist it was his fault. Tika could hear him in imagination already: ‘If I hadn’t been so weak and so frightened by losing you, the lady needn’t have had to come after me.’ Oh yes. But before she could worry further, people came forward.
Emla and Nesh, helping Sket, who insisted he was fine. He was allowed to offer Farn a couple of friendly insults before Emla and Nesh dragged him, complaining bitterly, back to the infirmary.
Sergeant Essa approached, flanked by Shea and Gossamer Tewk. Farn’s eyes brightened, the blue more his usual sapphire. When Essa smiled at him he was entranced. He insisted she kneel beside him so he could inspect her teeth more closely. He greatly admired the purple stain and demanded to know how his teeth could be coloured so wonderfully. Gossamer caught Tika’s glance and rolled her eyes in sympathy. When Shea expressed a similar admiration, Kija huffed loudly.
‘Your teeth are fine as they are child. Pretty little teeth you have.’
Shea blushed.
‘And you are very pretty,’ Farn added. His eyes had definitely regained their sparkle. ‘Three more pretty girls,’ he crowed.
Chapter Fourteen
Strannik ordered his force south, through the Barrier Range, with all speed. Forward scouts were seeking the easiest route for both foot guards and the four hundred mounted guards with their hundred spare horses. He gave no thought to Captain Lessur or General Whilk. They were already dead, or would be very shortly.
The Imperatrix had given private audience to Middle Captain Strannik several times before the army departed Kelshan. He had been told, in strictest confidence, of the treachery of General Whilk and Captain Lessur, and of Veranta’s suspicions of six other officers. All of those officers had either trained directly
under the General or had been attached to his personal staff at some time.
Veranta did not inform Strannik that Ternik, tutor to her daughters, was gifted with mage talents. Strannik had always been one of the most rabid opponents of any suggestions that those sort of people be allowed to develop their skills. Veranta hinted that she had sent spies into the Dark Realm. And thus had learned of the horrors which flourished where magic was allowed free rein.
Strannik believed her every word. He had come close to losing his rank twice, brought before General Whilk on charges of unnecessary brutality when questioning prisoners from the wild clans. His family was wealthy enough to pay the fines both times, without delay. His father had many things to say about the expense, but he had paid.
Strannik had no sealed orders to open en route. He had been told what was expected of this “expedition” and he relished the opportunity it offered. Veranta dismissed the idea of gentler handling of farmers, peasant labourers, women or children.
‘Kill any you meet,’ she’d told him casually.
Strannik admired the way Veranta carried on her role as Imperatrix when she must be devastated with worry over her missing daughter. Strannik wasn’t intelligent enough to have ever noticed that people became his friends purely with an eye to his wealthy background. The men who lived and worked with him had little or no respect for him in fact, after witnessing how easily that wealth bought him out of any and every difficulty.
The army camped for the third night since abandoning Captain Lessur. They were strung out for nearly a quarter of a league as the valley they were following rapidly narrowed. The four scouts reported back as the sun dropped behind the valley rim. They all had disappointing news. The only trails any of them could find were wide enough only for two men on foot abreast or a single file of riders.
Strannik scowled. ‘There must be wider passages,’ he insisted. ‘We will march on tomorrow but you will leave before dawn and find me that broader path.’
Dark Realm: Book 5 Circles of Light series Page 17
