"Master Dracla," he said, pulling the black hood down to his neck. "Forgive my discourtesy."
"It's fine. What's that smell?" Only a small part of me was curious; that hadn't been why I'd asked.
He glanced at the smoking bowls on his desk. "Just some remedies I've been testing."
"For the Behemoths?" I asked. It was a stupid question—keeping the Behemoths alive was Silos's job. I didn't wait for him to give the answer before waving the soldier behind me inside the tent. "You've worked on men before, right? Will you look at his leg?"
"Did something stop the Akadian healers from being able?" Silos asked, though he was already appraising the soldier. He gestured to a stool and the soldier sat.
"Just do it," I ordered, having no better response.
I looked around the room while he removed the soldier's boot. It was cluttered with lush furnishings, furniture; fine instruments, small and intricate, many of them golden. The tools had come with Silos; the rest, like the tent, had come from Lox—rewards for just one of his valuable assets.
"It seems to be a twisted ankle," Silos said. "Not even sprained."
"That's it?" I marched over to them—where Silos was rotating the soldier's foot.
"Unless there's somewhere else you'd like me to check."
"I thought that… you remember what you said about the lead before?"
"With the Behemoths?" Silos asked, curious.
"No. I mean about the granted animals being prone to things that could eventually affect…"
"Humans?"
"Others creatures," I corrected. "Anyways, it looked to me like…" I frowned and bent down myself to inspect the soldier's ankle. They were both watching me. The soldier jerked away at my touch. I thought it was a wise move— if he'd halted training for a twisted ankle I was going to kill him.
"There's nothing," Silos said, echoing my own realization.
The air in the tent was definitely too thick. I rose to my feet and waved a hand. "Bandage it up then," I ordered. "And make sure it's tight."
Right, bandages, I thought: for a twisted ankle.
I went back outside before Silos could tell me how excessive that was. I walked to one of the posts of the tent and leaned against it, crossing my arms, under shade. Without having to take any sort account of my position, I looked to the right. There, not far from Silos's tent, hugging the cavern wall was a fenced in oval that acted as home now to most the Behemoths—really all of them, only they worked in shifts that meant that they were rarely there all at once.
Despite all the pains that Lox had taken to keep them alive, only about a third of them were able to work the chains at a time, the others had to rest, and they rotated through this.
Still, according to Silos, if they'd been kept underground they would have all been dead by now, and—diminished or not—the Behemoths were still responsible for keeping the forges running at unnaturally high rates. Since the return of the soldiers, Lox had only increased production; he intended for every soldier to be wearing plate by the time the spring came, and he was constantly building new weapons, often of Bellerophon's design (the same smith who had created the chimera killing metal launchers).
Clustered together as the Behemoths were now—the children in with the full-grown adults—they really did look like a herd of oversized rhinos. One of the largest of them dipped its horn down towards the earth, and the young one beside it tucked its head over the top of the horn. Both their horns were matching tarnished gold.
I shifted my gaze from the sight.
The space around Silos's tent was in no way abandoned. The closest group of diggers looked like a mix of Birmians and Carbans. They were all too thin, sweating and dirt-smudged. A few out of the bunch were women, and one was close to me. She wore some scraps of linen that were torn. She noticed me watching her only once she'd straightened up to wipe her face. I held her gaze when she looked at me, even while she blinked, even while she frowned, but she forced me to a stop when she turned back to her work.
I swallowed, then took a steady breath, leaning my head back against the wood post, closing my eyes—but only in time to hear a scuffle behind me.
"All patched up, Lieutenant," my injured soldier said. He was favoring his bandaged foot, though he had his boot back on over it now.
I saved off a glare, and jerked my head toward the exit of the cavern. "Find your own way back. And if they're still running course when you get there, go around with them."
He nodded, only showing the slightest sign of confusion before I pushed past him to join Silos back inside the tent.
"I was told you needed to ask me about something," I said tersely.
He was already back to working over his desk. He looked up to glance skeptically outside the tent.
"By the soldier?"
"No. By my…" My voice trailed off. I thought of Slark, and his all-too-convenient excuse to get me to go in his place. I wanted to scowl but couldn't quite pull it off. "Never mind," I said to Silos. I ran a hand back through my hair, then I made to turn, but before I could leave, Silos called to me.
"You're not Akadian are you?" he asked. "Not originally, I mean."
I hesitated. Then I looked back at him. "I'm from Shaundakul."
"The dragon lords?" His tone was reverent.
I nodded.
"May the stars keep you, then," he said, bowing his silver head.
My expression went very grim, I could tell, even though I hadn't meant for it to. I spared a final glance for his surroundings, then I left the tent.
ELLIA:
"You did what!?" I demanded, feeling as if the Warrior's chamber around me were closing in. It would be a simple enough thing, the hollowed out inside of tree, growing back as it used to be, swallowing up the circle of chairs and high table, and orbed chandelier giving off dim light.
Six of the thirteen first-order Warriors stood around me, most of them thankfully not occupying their high seats:
Lightning-eyed Alex Scarn, his wife Tory. Lodan Falster, the first man I'd ever met on Yanartian shores. A very oft-complaining bearded man, named Khaliir. Elminster, the wisest and eldest of the Warriors. Fire-haired Lyrie, who still pretended I didn't know she'd once favored my father. And Amalia Denathar, Lucian's mother.
"Please, princess," Alec said, raising his hand to me, "we didn't do anything."
"Don't call me that. Just… don't. You called me Ellia long after I told you who I was. If you didn't believe me before I had my crown, I don't want to be reminded constantly."
"Ellia," Lodan chided, true hurt showing through in his tone. Alec looked rightly offended as well. I put a hand to my head to collect my thoughts, but this only reminded me of what they'd just told me. I looked back at them, red-faced.
"How could you even think of such a union without speaking with me first?"
"It wasn't that way," Tory answered for him. "It was mentioned first by Prince Vartus while he was visiting, and then all of the Democedian's here were circulating the idea. Then when the news just came that Lox had been forced to dispose of another Lord for spreading word about Lucian… it was just a natural progression that it got out of hand."
"None of us have confirmed anything," Alec promised.
"Well, of course you haven't, it's the most absurd thing I've ever heard. If the Democedians were starting rumors, you should have stopped them." I looked at Amalia, expecting support and understanding on behalf of her son.
Of course now, I realized, that it was no wonder that Estrid had been upset. She had every right. I was only glad, at least, that she'd kept Lucian from coming to see the Warrior's with me, because I wouldn't have wanted to face him with this news.
"Absurd?" Amalia tested. She frowned. "I think that's a strong label…"
I narrowed at her, but only until I was distracted by Alec. "Have you heard the situation in Akadia? That most there realize that Lucian is the heir to the throne?"
"Of course I have. I don't see what that has to do with anythi
ng."
"It's the war," Lodan said, "In the war, in the final battles, when they come again. And if we defeat Akadia—"
"We will defeat Akadia," I interrupted.
"Yes, well, have you thought in that case, who will rule it?" Lodan went on.
"It's not as if it will disappear with Lox," Alec said. "Your people will return to Shaundakul, and whatever others are there can be freed, but what about the Akadians?"
I had to swallow at the mention of Shaundakul. I pressed my lips to think, then almost burst out, "Are you saying that Lucian would rule it?"
The silence of the Warriors was answer enough. Particularly Amalia, holding her chin steady.
"Have you asked him about this?" I asked.
"There's a consideration of duty here," Kahliir said, "Not only personal want."
"Yanartas is Lucian's home. He has a chimera. He couldn't—"
"You speak confidently on his behalf for someone so opposed to marriage," Tory pointed out. Her eyes were speculative, as if she guessed to trap me in admitting I would actually want to marry Lucian.
"Even if Lucian did want to rule Akadia," I said, "I don't see what that has to do with me."
"Verification," Lodan threw out.
Alec elaborated for him. "Surely you're aware, Ellia, of the weight royal alliances give. It's not just after the war ends—if we even do win—there's a chance that if Lucian's position is confirmed it could help in the battle. We've seen the affect his appearance had on the Akadian soldiers, imagine if he could convince men to fight for our side before the battle had even begun."
"The affect Lucian's appearance has on the soldiers has nothing to do with the fact that he was Molec's son. That was because his brother was Captain, a great captain. Akadian soldiers don't care about heirs and royalty, they care about their military leaders. They're not going to turn on Malatos Lox because Molec wasn't faithful."
As soon as I got the words out, I closed my eyes, wishing I hadn't said them. When I glanced at Amalia, I felt as if I'd been slapped, and she wasn't even looking back at me. The Warriors had grown a little more withdrawn, but I felt reproached as well, and even foolish, like a child.
"An alliance between the Cirali Warriors and Shaundakul even more than Akadia and Shaundakul would assist with the war effort," Elminster mentioned—in his painfully slow way that had everyone holding their breaths by the time he had finished.
"Even you're supportive of this?" I asked Elminster. "Is everyone?"
Lyrie lifted her brows in a manner that said she wasn't. Lodan looked thoughtful at least. I didn't want to think of Amalia's expression. Elminster scoffed.
"I don't see why that matters one way or another," he sputtered. "I'm not blind. Princess Solidor didn't come to Yanartas alone and it's her raven-haired friend that Lucian fancies, not her." He chuckled at his words. Lyrie joined him, and for a moment I wanted to as well.
Most of the others looked stricken. Tory in particular, but I didn't see why all of them could be so dense about it. Lucian wasn't here; I'd told them why in so many words. They all knew he hadn't come to report when he was meant to—and if they didn't realize that that was proof enough what Estrid meant to the stringent Warrior, they really were blind, like Elminster had said.
"This doesn't need to be discussed thoroughly now," Alec placated. "Perhaps everyone should take some time to think on it… We'll be sure to quell any rumors for the time being, Ellia."
"We'd never make you do anything that you didn't choose," Tory added.
"We should return to the matter of the Echrians," Alec went on, "Their assistance in Ghaund—do you know if they would fight the Wyverns if necessary?"
I tried hard not to sigh. We'd discussed most of what had happened with the Vermillion Birds before the talk of marriage had come up. I didn't feel up to speaking more of it now, but I certainly wasn't about to go retrieve Lucian to do it. I made Luffie promise to come in and fly me out if we weren't finished in an hour, then launched into answering Alec's question.
All the while ignoring the thoughts that were truly clustering my mind. Who marriage inevitably made me think of.
CYRIC:
I put one foot in front of the other, concentrating hard to do so. The floor was golden, and so were the pillars on either side of me; wide as trees. I looked up as I passed them, seeing Lox at the head of the throne-room. He had a hand on the back of throne, while his gaze was on the ceiling. Its golden rafters were cracked and ruined; it looked as if the whole thing could fall down any second, and the dust that coated the floor did nothing to deter the notion.
"It was supposed to have taken King Thaniel five years to build this palace," Lox said, still looking upwards, his black eyes shifting.
I stopped a few yards from the throne.
"He ruled seven generations before Molec; one of his direct ancestors—though I'm sure you already knew that. As long as this palace has stood, Akadia has been led by their line. Their dreams. Their directions. But now…" Lox's voice trailed off. He looked down at me with a smile. "Perhaps Thaniel should have spent longer than five years after all."
His tone was amused, and begged the same reaction out of me. But I didn't match it. And it made him frown.
"Are you here about the battalions?" he asked.
"I'm here because I was told you wanted to see me."
He narrowed. Not much. Just enough. To make me sure he could tell the frailty of my stance. The sweat at my neck. The strain of my throat—set to send me into a coughing fit at any moment. And most of all, his dislike of my reply—which even now had its great affect.
"Ah yes, I do recall that," he said. He shrugged his shoulders. "But now that we're on the subject, why don't we discuss the soldiers after all. I would ask you what you think of their current status…only I'm not sure that you know. We've been missing you at the war-meetings. Since, well, since the attack last week, isn't that right?"
I swallowed thick, then spoke calmly. "I know that they're returning from the east. That part of Venoc's battalion is remaining in Selket. That Scanth will stay in Karatel with his." I lifted my head stricter. "Last I heard they're meant to arrive within a few days."
"And your opinion?" he prodded.
I took a short breath, gripping my jaw, before going on. "To end the war after the king's death, most everybody is pleased about it… But even if they weren't; it's a necessity to have the soldiers back in Akadia, isn't it? If they were away while the rule is so uncertain, it could mean chaos." I met his gaze evenly. "There would be no telling who might try to take control."
Lox measured my face, then I thought I saw something, something like the fire that lit his eyes when he spoke of chimera—only I couldn't be sure, before it disappeared. "That's very good, son. Very good." He tipped his head up to the rafters. "We've discussed the palace as well. What do you think should be done about it?"
I didn't have to look up. I heard a pound in the distance, from somewhere outside the building's walls, and dust crumbled down in a golden fog. "I think that you've already decided," I answered.
Lox took a breath, with a slow nod. Finally lifting a brow. "By that do you mean… that I decided after seeing the palace in such a state that it must come down—or that I decided it should come down before it was ever in such a state?"
My brow dipped. I didn't try to hide it; I didn't think I could have in any case.
"Cyric… do you think you can behave as you have for days, scarcely speak to me, after such an event and I won't guess the line of your thoughts? Your behavior always has been transparent. All your feelings, the same. So have out with it, son. Are you in agreement with so many others, that imagine I planned the whole destruction myself. Fit with chimera, materials we have no access to—celebrating an event I had no part in planning."
My narrow deepened. But it wasn't enough to keep me from seeing him perfectly—as I slowly shook my head. "Not like the others," I said, then the next words strained out, with about a dozen others screaming at
me not to say them, "I saw you."
Lox had maintained a calm exterior thus far, but now, though his body stayed very still, his eyes flamed over, the skin around them tensed, and he kept this very dark glare on me for seconds, until finally breaking it to frown. "You saw me leave?" he scoffed. "Of course I did, that's why I'm not dead."
"No," I argued. "Not like you told everyone else. You said that you were called away on news from Scanth. If that were true, others would have been told. But they weren't. Your men told Sersk. And Sersk, he told you. And then…"
Lox's features crushed together, but I was watching him at the palace again, looking about the room, from Molec, to Veera, to me, and others—all of it making me as ill. Then I was being led to a cold balcony, by Ellia. She was holding my hand. And then she touched my face, and looked at me, and her eyes told me how much she loved me. Then she kissed me and it hurt because I knew I couldn't have her.
Very suddenly, or perhaps not so much as I thought, I was brought back to the throne-room by Lox's voice—only now his features had gone steady, and his tone was careful. "Is that what you think?" he said, "That I would have let you die. Well—no wonder you're upset, son." He took a step forward, and I was too off-balance to shift myself. "Cyric," he said, frowning, "I knew your princess would rescue you. I watched her take you away. There was no doubt in my mind that you would survive."
He paused, and I frowned, trying to measure these new words against what I knew. "You're saying you did call the Yanartians, then?" I followed, thinking that for him to know that Ellia could save me, he would have had to have been aware that they were there.
Lox scoffed. "You know as well as anyone, that I couldn't call the Yanartians. If I could, I would call them into a hive of Wyverns where we might dispose of them once and for all. No. I simply… the Yanartians didn't attack the palace on their own. They had the help of Democedians. My spies there, picked up word of it: movements of their explosive minerals. I only knew that they might try to use it against one of our strongholds, maybe even the mountains in the north. I didn't know when or where. I certainly never guessed that they would attack Akadia, let alone the palace directly. When the victory was won in Selket and it was clear that both Molec and I would be present to attend the celebration, I had suspicions. I had the skies watched. But it was merely a precaution. If I had known, for certain that the palace was going to be attacked, I would have kept everyone from it of course. But by then it was too late."
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