— From Nobles & Their Steeds: A Chevalier’s Compendium
Lira – The Royal Tower
THE BUSTLING OF the throne room cut through Lira’s fatigue like a hot knife. Despite nearly two days of sleep, a tiredness had sunk into her very bones. Pressure, stress and ultimate failure had done this to her. She shouldn’t have been made Prefect. She was just a huntress who had been given a command beyond her experience. It surprised her that Praetorians still saluted and smiled as she passed them. Harra was among those most eager, running to her side, all wide-eyed.
“Prefect, it is good to see you on your feet again. Are you rested?”
Lira blinked, unsure what she should tell her. “As much as I can be, though I’ve slept for too long already.”
“Darnuir said you were to have all the time that you need. If you’d like to return to your chambers—”
“No,” Lira said, harsher than she intended. Did Darnuir think her weak then? Did he regret leaving her in such an important position? Either way it wasn’t Harra’s fault. “I’d rather be doing something useful. The skirmish was hard on us all and no one else will have slept for this long.”
Harra looked downcast and averted her eyes. “I wish I had been there to help you. What you did was amazing, taking on all those Light Bearers.”
“We had help,” Lira said.
“But they’re all older, more experienced warriors,” Harra said. “Camen told me how you stood up to them.”
Lira felt her throat tighten. “You would have liked to fight our own kind?”
Harra looked sheepish. “Well, no. Of course not. I just mean, I’d have liked to have been there with you. Supporting you. I didn’t mean—”
“I know,” Lira said, patting her on the shoulder. “And thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that. I for one just wish it hadn’t happened at all.” She scanned the room for Darnuir but couldn’t locate him among the activity. He wasn’t on his throne.
“Where is the King?”
“He’s in council with the humans,” Harra said. She pointed towards the throne.
A circular table had been placed at the base of the steps. Despite knowing where to look, Lira almost missed him again. Darnuir wasn’t wearing his armour nor his crimson cape; he sat in a plain shirt. The Dragon’s Blade was hidden from view under the table. Compared to the regalia of the human officers around him, he looked quite ordinary. A few days ago, the thought of having Darnuir back would have thrilled her. Yet now she had seen him, no sense of relief filled her, no hope burst within her chest. Just another disappointment, she supposed.
She must have lingered on him for too long, for Darnuir turned his attention from the humans and caught her eye. He got to his feet and her heart skipped a beat. Would he dismiss her here in front of everyone?
Darnuir waved her over and she found herself walking trance-like to his side. Here she got a better look at the humans. Some were from the navy, others were high-ranking hunters in black leathers and the rest were army officers in their white and black uniforms. Their expressions weren’t as foreboding as they might have been, which was some comfort.
Darnuir beckoned her closer. “Prefect Lira, we’re all glad to see you. We owe you our thanks.”
Lira was taken aback. “Thanks?”
“Were it not for you, matters the other night would have been far worse,” Darnuir said.
One of the human officers stood up. Lira vaguely recognised her from the many fruitless meetings over the past weeks. She had a stern face with sharp eyes and a slightly hooked nose.
“You did well, Prefect. We are in your debt.”
“I didn’t stop it from happening.”
“You can’t stop madness,” the female officer said briskly. “You saved more of my regiment from being slaughtered, and saved the rest of our forces from a brutal fight in the streets.”
“The Fifth Regiment will return to Brevia,” Darnuir said, more for Lira’s benefit it seemed. “As will the Eighth, we have just decided.” The commander of that regiment barely suppressed a smile of relief.
One of the navy officers leaned forwards, a high-ranking man judging from the silver trim on his uniform. “It’s a kind gesture but it will be hard to avoid the reality of what happened when reports reach the Assembly in full. If we could be sure of what will be done to the perpetrators, it would go a long way towards showing justice being done.”
“I have told you my intentions for the Light Bearers in question.”
“And yet nothing has been done.” The officer attempted to be bold, but something about Darnuir’s look seemed to hold him back and his voice faltered. It wasn’t a menacing stare, far from it; but there was a firmness in it, a calm confidence that Lira had never seen in Darnuir before.
“I believe you have ships to prepare,” Darnuir said. “Rest assured that when you return, the situation will be fully dealt with.”
The officer grumbled but voiced no further objection. “Tell your dragons and your Chevalier to report to me at nightfall. We’ll leave at dawn.”
“Raymond?” Lira said, confused. A knot formed in her stomach. Something in her expression must have given away this discomfort for Darnuir looked at her in concern.
“I think that will be all for today,” he said to the officers. “Thank you all for hearing me out. I hope to work more closely with you all over the coming weeks.”
Once the humans had departed, Darnuir sighed heavily and rubbed at his eyes. Lira noticed then how sickly he still looked. His eyes were dark, his skin sallow and he was thin. Not quite wasted, but more veins were visible in a more striking blue than was natural. She wondered if that was due to the Cascade.
“Come, sit with me, Lira.” He sat down on the steps behind them and let out another sigh of relief. A little hesitant, Lira sat beside him feeling strange to be so inactive while the rest of the Praetorians carried out their tasks. Darnuir stretched his arms behind himself and she heard his back pop.
“That’s better,” he said.
“How are you?” she asked. It seemed a foolish thing to ask, but she didn’t know how else to phrase it.
“My body might be worn but my mind is clear,” Darnuir said. “I’ll be fine. I’d rather know how you are holding up. It can’t have been easy while I was… gone.”
“I wasn’t prepared for it.”
“Yet you did admirably.”
“I did what I could, but it wasn’t enough. Dragons need a king.”
“A weakness in our people I’d like to change,” Darnuir said. “We can’t fall apart simply because one individual is out of action. But that’s something for the future. For now, I simply want to thank you for all that you did; and for taking such swift action the other night. It’s awful that it happened, but you’re not to blame – no, don’t even think of taking on that burden,” he added, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I remember you watching over me during my recovery. On top of everything you still made time for that. It’s much more than I deserved. The Praetorians admire you, love you even. I couldn’t ask for a better Prefect nor, I hope, a friend?”
Lira gulped away the lump that had formed in her throat. Was this really Darnuir?
“Thank you.” It was all she could think to say.
“Do you still wish to remain Prefect?”
Lira half-opened her mouth, then closed it. She wasn’t entirely sure. Being made Prefect had been sudden and an honour, but she wondered if she was really the best person for it. She had been able to keep Darnuir in check, to some degree, but he seemed different now. Would she be needed for that any longer?
“I hope you do, but I’ll understand if you don’t,” Darnuir added. “Having had to handle me before cannot have been pleasant.”
“A challenge is more how I’d describe it,” Lira said, chancing a smile. Thankfully, he smirked in return. “Can I thi
nk about it?” she said.
“Of course you can. But not for too long. Raymond is debating on whether he will return from Brevia. I’d hate to lose you both.”
The knot in her stomach tightened. “Why is he going?”
“I am sending Raymond on a goodwill mission. I hope he can make headway in bringing the rest of our people home and relieve the pressure on Brevia.”
“But—” she stopped herself, not sure what she was going to say, and not even sure why she was trying to say anything at all. It was Darnuir’s choice, not hers. She settled on saying, “Why might he not return?”
“That’s for him to decide. Maybe you should speak to him yourself if you’re concerned. Give him a reason to stay.”
“What reason?” she snapped.
Darnuir chuckled and lent his chin upon his hands. “That’s also for you to figure out. But I know that look.”
Lira frowned, her ire flared. “What look?”
“The same look I used to see one dear friend give another…” he trailed off, his voice betraying a pain that she wasn’t aware he carried. He pressed his face fully into his palms, groaned lowly, then got to his feet. “If you’re going to see him, you better go soon. He’ll leave for the ship tonight.”
“Right,” she said, feeling dazed. This had been an unusual experience with Darnuir, but it felt better than it had before. Hopefully, it was a sign of things to come. She too stood a little hastily, felt the blood rush from her head, and thought longingly again of bed. Fighting the feeling, she took her first steps towards the throne room doors.
Darnuir called after her. “If you’re looking for Raymond, he’ll be—”
“I know where he’ll be.”
As expected, she found him in the makeshift stable they had constructed for Bruce in one of the ruined villas near the Royal Tower. She lingered in the doorway, not wishing to interrupt what looked like a tender moment between horse and rider as Raymond brushed Bruce’s long mane. Lira was also nervous, although she felt foolish for feeling it. Yet the more she thought on it, the more she got mad at him. Thinking of leaving, was he? After all of this, he was going to pack it in and crawl back home to his comfortable mansion? Well, she was going to call him out on that.
“All packed, are we?”
Raymond whipped around, fumbled with his brush and dropped it in the process.
“Lira? How are you feeling?”
“Fine.”
“You look more human than the other night – I mean, well, you know what I mean.”
“Hmmm,” she said, slinking into the so-called stables. Bruce blew out his cheeks at her and bobbed his head enthusiastically. “I don’t have any apples for you today,” she told the great beast. Bruce eyed her empty hands then snorted his displeasure.
“Is something wrong?”
“No,” she said. “I just heard you were leaving.”
“Darnuir sends me to plea with the Assembly. It won’t be an easy task.”
“He also said you might not come back.”
“He granted me that option.”
“And you’re considering it?”
“I am.”
“Even if it means leaving someone behind?”
His eyes popped. “What?”
Lira frowned and waved a hand pointedly towards Bruce.
“Oh,” he said. “Yes, I’ve considered that.” His face gave nothing away, but his tone was quite firm.
Lira froze, rooted to the spot a few steps away from him. He was serious; really, truly serious. He loved that horse. And if he was this serious about it, could she persuade him otherwise? Something of her anxiety must have shown on her face for Raymond frowned at her.
“What does it matter?”
“What does it—” Lira hissed. She shuffled awkwardly, pursed her lips then looked around the battered ruins of the villa, anywhere but at Raymond. The words she sought eluded her.
“It’s not like I’m a huge help here,” Raymond said. “You even told me to stay behind the other night.”
“Not this being a hero stuff again?” She said, finding her voice.
He rolled his eyes and turned away. “Easy for you to say. You’re a dragon.” He seemed to vent some of his own anger on Bruce, giving the horse a tougher scratch along the neck than normal. Bruce snorted again and twisted his head away. Raymond stepped back, lost his footing on a chunk of carrot underfoot and fell.
Lira dropped to his side. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” he groaned. “I’m not as fragile as you think.”
“I never said you were.” She withdrew her proffered hand and folded her arms. “I didn’t tell you to stay because I think you’re weak.”
“It’s not just that,” he muttered.
“Then what?” Lira said. She felt lost; bewildered. What was going on?
“Even before, over the last few weeks, I couldn’t put in the shifts you or the others could. I always got tired or couldn’t keep up.”
“No one expected you to.”
Raymond grimaced. “That doesn’t make it better.” He sighed. “It’s… difficult to explain.”
“Darnuir didn’t bring you into the Guard to be more muscle.”
Raymond’s eyes finally met hers. “I was to be some sort of symbol… well, look how that turned out. I’ve done no good as an ornament.”
“And you think you could have done more standing on ceremony back home?”
“Home?” he said, his voice a touch high. “Home feels like a distant memory here. This city is a cold and dying place.”
“We all feel homesick Raymond. Me too. This is all so new and my mother—”
“Is still in the west. I know. I was going to come find you to say—”
“Yes?”
“To say that I’d enquire as to her whereabouts. Find out if she’s in these camps and, if so, let her know you’re well.”
“That would mean coming back to tell me?”
Raymond pushed around some straw on the floor, not looking at her. “I could write.”
Lira huffed. “I don’t believe you’d ever abandon us while there is still a fight ahead.”
“I’m just not sure what I have to offer; really offer,” he said quietly. He swept his now dishevelled hair off his face to look at her more intently. “What can a human offer a dragon?”
His phrasing was odd, but Lira brushed it aside. “You offer hope; hope to Darnuir’s cause, which we all claim to believe in.” Raymond looked dejected, his gaze falling to the floor. Lira was lost. Raymond had heard this reasoning a hundred times, but he didn’t believe it.
What does he want to hear? And what do I want to say?
She tried to remember why she’d come in the first place and it all seemed a blur; a mixture of fear, anger, nerves and habit. She didn’t want him to go. Using Darnuir was just an excuse. And if she could admit that to herself, she could admit it to him.
“Look, you gave me someone to lean on. You’re a good listener and it helps more than you might think. I didn’t need just another dragon carrying heavy crates around. It was nice to have something… more.”
Raymond smiled; but it was a soft, sad sort of smile. “You speak as though I’ve already left.”
“Then don’t”
He sat up to face her properly. “I wondered if you’d rise before I left for Brevia. I wanted to say goodbye – just in case,” he added, a little stiffly.
“Well, I’m awake.”
Raymond gulped. “Goodbye, Lira.”
Her nose prickled from oncoming tears. She forced them down, quite embarrassed that she’d even came close to it. She got up quickly, turning her face away to hide the signs of them and shook her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts.
Raymond was clambering to his feet. She grabbed his hand and yanke
d him up as though he were a child. At his full height, she had to tilt her head to look up at him.
“You’ll take care of Bruce, won’t you?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said exasperated.
“Bring him apples when you visit; he’ll need the treats.” Raymond spoke as though the warhorse was a mewling puppy.
“Yes,” she said, more mechanically.
“And take care of yourself, too. You deserve better than this.”
She realised she hadn’t let go of his hand. “Come back, okay?” The words had left her mouth before she could register them. Before she’d even considered them.
She let go of him, gingerly retreated as though he were suddenly poisonous, then pivoted on her heel and strode off. On her way out of the villa, she flexed her hand and kept her focus determinedly forwards, not quite sure what had just happened.
Chapter 17
INTRUSION
“Behind burned rock and mistrust, a veil has hidden the goings on in Kar’drun for thousands of years.”
— From Tiviar’s Histories
Dukoona – The Depths of Kar’drun
ARMS QUIVERING, SHOULDERS aching so much he thought they would tear away, Dukoona pushed downwards. Pale blue light from the Cascade Sink was barely enough to see by as he struggled to break his restraints. Weak though he was, he strained his body in a desperate bid for freedom. The bonds began to shake and hope kindled in him; he would not give in, he would not relent, he would suffer whatever pain was necessary. His hands pushed down to his stomach, the furthest he’d reached yet.
The bonds tightened, about to give. He was close.
A cry of pain burst from his throat.
“I can hear you,” Rectar said. The crimson robed figure appeared, hood up. “If you are attempting to escape, do so silently.”
The bonds heaved Dukoona upwards, rendering his efforts useless. He gasped as his body was stretched, joints popping loudly; then the bonds began to undulate, thrashing him around like a strip of cloth caught in the wind. When it was over, he hung limply, in no mood to try again.
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