Torbrek...and the Dragon Variation (The Torbrek Trilogy)

by Lexi Revellian

  “I’ll get it,” Tor volunteered. She ran along the stone corridors through shafts of light from the embrasures and up the spiral stairs to the ramparts, pleased to stretch her legs after an hour in the office. It was a beautiful evening, and the day had been quieter than most lately. She had managed to have a nap that afternoon, and felt refreshed. As she emerged from the turret the sun was setting in a wash of pink and gold over the Castle stones and the quiet countryside beyond.

  To her surprise, she saw she was not alone on the battlements. Near the table and chairs where they had been sitting that morning, Jervaid was leaning idly against the wall contemplating the view, his blond hair gilded by the late evening light, looking more handsome than ever. He turned and gave her a slow smile, and her stomach did the disconcerting flip it had taken to doing recently whenever she saw him. It was the first time they had been alone together for days.

  “Tor, what an unexpected pleasure. What brings you up here?”

  “Oh, hello Jervaid, I’ve just come to get something for Barlanik.” Tor pointed to the map which had fallen under the table. She could feel herself blushing.

  “And how is our reticent leader this evening? Working late again, is he, after the recent setbacks, relentlessly moving with icy precision towards ultimate victory?”

  Tor spoke quickly, not liking his tone. “He’s a better man than you are, Jervaid, and you know it.”

  Jervaid gave her a quick assessing look. “Possibly; but then perhaps I have other qualities he lacks…” Jervaid stepped up to her, slid his arm round her waist and pulled her to him. His half closed blue eyes gazed down into hers. He murmured, “I can’t say I’ve wanted to kiss you as long as I’ve known you, but ever since I’ve known you were a girl the impulse has been almost irresistible…and for once we’re on our own…”

  His lips met Tor’s, and a delightful shock went through her. No one had ever kissed her before. Jervaid’s warm mouth on hers, the feel of his strong arms holding her, the smell of his skin, the soft roughness of his blond stubble, were a revelation. When at last he let her go she was quivering like a bow string. Her eyes opened to a new world, where colours were brighter and deeper; she felt light with happiness, as though she might float over the battlements into the sky. He leaned back against the wall and smiled at her.

  “I’ve got to go, Barlanik will wonder what’s happened to me.”

  “It would never do to keep him waiting. I’ll be seeing you, Tor,” Jervaid said, lightly running the back of his finger down her cheek.

  Tor had just presence of mind enough to pick up the map she had come for as she left. Half way back in the darkening corridor she nearly bumped into Linet going in the opposite direction. She tried to greet her normally, hoping Linet wouldn’t notice anything unusual. She felt as though the fact she had been kissing Jervaid was written all over her. Linet gave one of her grave smiles, and Tor was struck by how pretty she looked that evening, much prettier than she usually did, her eyes huge and bright.

  The next morning, after a night unbroken for once by calls to battle, but rather wasted because she spent it alternately thinking about Jervaid and dreaming about him, Tor got up early. Once dressed, she tiptoed down the stairs. She managed to pass Xantilor without waking him. He had an uncanny knack of guessing her thoughts, particularly where Jervaid was concerned, and giving her the benefit of his opinions. She did not want him to spoil her mood.

  On her way to the barracks, she stopped at Barlanik’s office to see if she was needed, or if it would be all right for her to go hunting briefly in the forest. She planned to ask Jervaid to go with her, determined to make time for him from now on.

  Linet was not at her desk in the outer office. The cat streaked past her into the corridor, making her jump. As she approached the open inner door, Tor could hear raised voices. Wondering what on earth was going on, she stood in the doorway.

  Kerris was leaning over Barlanik’s desk, both hands on it, shouting in his face. “Of course she didn’t tell you! Because you’d have disapproved, and told her why! You’d have had a word with Jervaid, you’d have put a stop to it! She knew that, she knew you’d be against it. You always think you’re so right! And now you won’t do anything!”

  They’ve guessed about me and Jervaid. But why is Kerris so angry? It’s none of their business…

  “That lying, treacherous, double-dealing turncoat – you should never have trusted him.” Kerris crashed his fist on to the desk. “Jervaid cares about just one thing – Jervaid. You should have seen that! Even bloody Drewitt saw that. And you let him hang around here all the time. She needed protecting and you didn’t do it!”

  Barlanik sat unmoving, saying nothing, his face rigid. Tor began to feel frightened. She had never known the Commander anything but confident and in charge. And Kerris, always relaxed, ready to make a joke when things went wrong, Kerris who had such respect for Barlanik…what had come over him?

  Barlanik noticed Tor standing frozen in the doorway, and motioned her to come in. Without saying anything, he passed her a letter. Kerris gave her a distracted glance and stormed on. Tor unfolded the letter. It was from Linet to her brother, and was quite brief. She hoped he would forgive her and try to understand, but she loved Jervaid and by the time he read this, they would be far away together. Tor’s stomach gave an unpleasant lurch, and she sat down. A clammy weight of misery settled on her heart. Linet and Jervaid…

  Kerris seemed to have finished shouting, and Barlanik spoke. “What do you want me to do, Kerris?”

  “Go after them!”

  “And when we find them, then what? Kill Jervaid?”

  “Yes, why not?” said Kerris savagely. “I’ll do it myself.”

  “Linet would never forgive you. Or do you want me to force her back? She’s not a child; she’s made her choice, God help her. It’s too late. Face it, there’s nothing we can do.”

  Kerris stared at Barlanik for a moment, then his shoulders slumped. He sat down and rubbed his hands over his face. Tor had seldom seen him without a gleam of amusement in his eyes, even going into battle. Now he seemed like a stranger. Barlanik was visibly striving for his usual self-control. They sat in silence for a while, each occupied by gloomy thoughts, and then Kerris stirred himself.

  “I’m sorry, Barlanik.”

  “Well, you were right.” Barlanik spoke wearily, his former crispness gone. “I’ve failed her in every way. She only had me to look after her, and I took her for granted…she didn’t confide in me, and I didn’t see what was going on…and I should have foreseen Jervaid would be trouble, one way or another.”

  Tor meanwhile was putting two and two together and not liking the result. Unwelcome conclusions presented themselves to her irresistibly one after the other. Jervaid must have had an assignation with Linet on the battlements the night before. He had been waiting for her there when Tor arrived by chance. He had taken the opportunity to kiss her – and not in a hurry, either – even though Linet was going to arrive at any moment. Suppose Linet had got there a few minutes earlier and seen them? Surely it would have put an end to the elopement.

  Tor remembered, having managed not to think of it since she’d seen it, Raziella rebuffing him in his cell. What had made Tor think she was different? She had been flattering herself thinking that Jervaid had any feelings for her that were not strictly frivolous. He had kissed her because he’d make a pass at any girl; because she’d piqued his pride by comparing him unfavourably to Barlanik, and kissing her was his way of bringing her to heel; also because he couldn’t resist the thrill of kissing one girl while risking discovery by another. He had the gambler’s appetite for risk. Some stupid part of her was hurt that he had chosen Linet, not her – not that she would have gone away with him.

  Tor felt humiliated and furious, and what was worse, foolish. Her infatuation with Jervaid was over for good, she told herself. From now on she would indeed be single minded about the arts of war (she remembered Kerris teasing poor Linet) and think no
more about love. She noticed Barlanik’s eyes on her, and hoped her thoughts had not been legible on her face.

  “Are you all right, Tor?” he said.

  Kerris looked at him, surprised, then at her. She sat up straight. “Yes, I’m fine. Why shouldn’t I be? I’d better get on. See you later.”

  As she walked away, it struck Tor that Jervaid was unlikely to have left the Castle on foot. She had given him the use of Whisper, and kept Carrots for herself. Carrots, though a good horse, could be quite awkward at times (she suspected his last owner had mistreated him) and she was used to him. Also, Carrots was an unremarkable dark bay with a rakish splodge of white across his face, and she had secretly wanted Jervaid to have a beautiful horse to match his looks. Now it seemed probable he had gone off with Whisper, whom she valued as a gift from Skardroft. It had touched her more than she would acknowledge that he had bothered to send the horse after her. She set off for the stables to check.

  On her way she ran into Drewitt heading in the same direction. Her spirits sank lower. She really could not face anything along the lines of “I told you so”. She did not tell him her errand. There could be only one topic of conversation, but to her surprise Drewitt’s comments were fairly mild, and he was friendlier than usual.

  “Bad business about Linet,” he said. “Of course, I never thought much of Jervaid. It’s a pity Barlanik didn’t listen to me. I told him he’d have trouble on his hands if he trusted him, and look what’s happened. We’re well shot of him, if you ask me. Poor Linet, though…”

  Drewitt’s dislike of Jervaid, it seemed, had diminished now that he was disgraced and gone, and Drewitt proved to have been right all along. He seemed, indeed, rather cheerful. He stopped for a word with the Horse Master while Tor, pleased to escape him, went to check her horses. She saw with relief that both Carrots and Whisper were in their stalls. Whisper was looking sleek and well groomed. Tor stroked her nose, then noticed there was a note folded small round her head collar. She unfolded it.

  Tor, thanks for the loan of your horse. Don’t worry about how I will manage without her, I’ve found another one.

  Jervaid

  She heard Drewitt’s outraged voice in the next-door stall.

  “That bastard, he’s stolen my horse!”

  The day dragged on. Tor was called out twice to far-flung villages, and arrived too late to help at both of them. One was no more than smouldering ashes by the time she got there, making her feel ineffectual and reminding her of Cramble. That evening the three of them had a meeting to discuss what could be done about the worsening situation, and how they could best prepare for an assault on the Castle if it came to it. Tor thought it was a fitting end to a dreadful day. Outwardly Barlanik now seemed almost his usual self, whereas Kerris was noticeably subdued.

  At last when they had finished, Kerris shoved a pile of papers from him and said, “I think I’ll go and get drunk. If Skardroft’s troops’ll hold off long enough. Do either of you want to come?”

  “Good idea,” said Tor. Barlanik said there were a few things he needed to look at, and he might join them afterwards.

  “He won’t come, you know,” Kerris said later in the tavern, breaking the silence in which they’d worked their way halfway down the flagon of wine. “He just said that so we wouldn’t try to persuade him. He’s taken this hard. Poor Linet, I can’t bear to think about her with that man.”

  “Kerris, you can tell me to mind my own business, but were you, er, fond of Linet?”

  “We were all fond of her…no, but I know what you mean. Yes, I was fond of her, loved her really.” Kerris stared into his drink. “I’d started to think…I suppose I vaguely thought that maybe, when the campaign had got a bit further, when we weren’t quite so hand to mouth, I would say something, get to know her better, tell her how I felt. I wish I had. She’s like her brother, not easy to get to know, rather reserved – not that it seems to have stopped Jervaid...” he finished dully, offering the flagon to Tor, then when she shook her head, filling his own wine cup.

  “I suppose he just swept her off her feet,” said Tor, trying to sound detached. “He’s good at that. And of course he’s incredibly good-looking, and charming too. And he doesn’t seem to care about anything, that’s very attractive…” Tor broke off as she noticed Kerris staring at her.

  “Not you as well, Tor!”

  The appalled look on his face was almost funny. Tor had a brief urge to tell him everything, then thought better of it. “No, he’s too pleased with himself. What was it Drewitt called him, an insolent arrogant bastard?”

  “Drewitt got him right, didn’t he? He said he was trouble, too. Funny he got him right and Barlanik didn’t see it.”

  “Where do you think they’ll go?”

  “Barlanik thinks he’ll end up back with Skardroft, though he’s not said much about it.”

  “No – he can’t! What would Linet do?”

  “I don’t like to think about that,” said Kerris grimly, draining his wine cup and beckoning to the serving girl. Raziella saw him and came over herself.

  “Poor Linet,” said Tor.

  Raziella banged another flagon down on their table and stood, hands on hips. “That’s all I’ve heard today, ‘Poor Linet this, poor Linet that,’” she said. “What’s so poor about her, I’d like to know? She’s run off with the man she fancies, ditching all her chores, leaving Barlanik in the lurch fretting about her. Poor Barlanik, I say. Linet’s all right.”

  She picked up the empty flagon and walked off. It was one way of looking at it, Tor supposed.

  Late that night, on her way back to her room in the Dragon Tower, Tor noticed the lamps were still lit in Barlanik’s office. She retraced her steps and knocked on his door. He was sitting where they had left him. He looked up with one of his rare smiles.

  “Tor!” Barlanik got to his feet. “Let me walk you to the Tower. I shan’t do any more here tonight.”

  He put out the lamps, and together they went out into the quiet darkness. There were infinite numbers of stars above them; the air was still, and smelled of summer. In the forest an owl hooted, and a nightingale’s solitary song pierced the night. Neither of them said much. Tor longed to say something comforting, but was unable to think of anything. Barlanik was even more taciturn than usual. It did not seem to matter, though; she felt easy in his company, and calmer than she’d felt all day. When they got to the postern, they turned to each other. Tor’s eyes had got used to the dark, and she could see Barlanik’s face clearly. He looked tired, and older.

  Tor thought what a good man he was, and how Jervaid seemed inconsequential by comparison. It was odd to remember that she had not much liked Barlanik when she first met him. Without thinking about it she reached out for his hand, and said impulsively, “You did your best…it’s not your fault…it’s not fair to blame yourself.”

  He smiled at her and shook his head. “That’s kind of you, Tor. Thank you. I know today hasn’t been easy for you.”

  “I’m all right. Poor Kerris, though…”

  His eyes searched her face, then he said, “Sleep well.” He took his hand back gently, turned away and walked off alone.

  Tor stood and watched him until he was swallowed up by the darkness. She felt worn out. She did not want to think or feel any more. Wearily, she climbed up to her room, where she got into bed and fell at once into a dreamless sleep.

  CHAPTER 18

  Jervaid and Skardroft

  Skardroft looked at Routh in disbelief.

  “Let me understand you correctly – the Dragon Master that you’ve had everybody trying to kill for the past four days is my granddaughter? And you failed to realize this?”

  “Yes, Sire, I’m very sorry, Your Majesty. It didn’t occur to anyone that a woman could be a Dragon Master. I came to tell you as soon as I knew. We found out when one of our captains who’d been captured managed to get back here and told us. We hadn’t been able to recognize her from a distance wearing a helmet. Luckily she
is unharmed.”

  “So what you are telling me is that your inadequacy in one area has compensated for your incompetence in another? And you expect congratulations on this dismal performance?”

  Skardroft’s staring eyes were sunk in shadowy sockets, Routh noticed uneasily; he was thinner and his old air of massive self-confidence was missing. The power was still there, though. No one but a fool would cross him now… Routh averted his gaze and swallowed. “At least, Sire, we are now able to try for two objectives at once. Our plan is to bring down the dragon when it is flying near the ground, so that your granddaughter is not hurt, then we can capture her.”

  This sounded a lot more feasible than it was, Routh knew. An injured dragon, even if it couldn’t fly, could still breathe fire. And Tor was a lethal fighter. It would be well nigh impossible to take her unhurt. In his considerable experience, Knights invariably died fighting rather than be taken. However, his main concern these days was to get through these meetings without Skardroft deciding that a spell in the dungeons would do Routh good, or that his performance would be improved by being flogged to within an inch of his life.

  God help him if anything happened to the girl. A fast horse over the border would be his preferred option in that scenario. No way was he ever going to stand here telling Skardroft his granddaughter was dead. It was more than his life was worth. In his opinion, it was a pity they hadn’t managed to kill her in Cramble, when they only knew Torbrek was one of the last of the Hundred Knights, not her lineage. It would have saved a great deal of trouble – as long as Skardroft hadn’t found out who she really was later, of course.

  “Make sure your plan works, and quickly.” Skardroft jerked his head towards the door to indicate the meeting was over. “You are living on borrowed time, Routh.”

  As if I didn’t know that, thought Routh, saluting and leaving the room. He would get that dragon, and the troublesome granddaughter, if it killed him, which indeed it well might.