I smiled back. “Hey.”
“ My goodness... It really is you! I can't believe it.” Her voice was still crisp and eloquent, but scratchy. She turned the chair around with a small lever. It hummed softly as it pivoted to face us. “You're looking so well. You've filled out, you look... amazing. But what happened to your teeth?”
“Close encounters with vampire-kind.” I hung back out of the patch of sunlight. Even from where I was standing, I could almost hear the sizzling sound it would make when it hit my skin. It wouldn't kill me or even suck my HP, but it was definitely uncomfortable.
“I never thought I’d see you again,” she said. “So many hopefuls would go to the Eyrie and never return.”
“Yeah, it was rougher than I expected. I didn’t join the Skyrdon, but I did get a dragon. Usta’s last Queen, Karalti.”
Rutha's violet eyes misted, and when she spoke, her voice shook. “I heard. Believe me, I heard. Ororgael… Baldr… still likes to rant on about it. I’m so glad you escaped with her: you got out of that awful place just in time. The Eyrie, Ilia… my country is unrecognizable, Hector. No one should live there. No one.”
The edge of a sob touched her voice. I went to her as she spread her arms and bent down to carefully, gently hug her. She felt so thin I thought she'd snap in my arms. “I'm sorry I wasn't there to stop him from hurting you.”
“There’s nothing you could have done. None of us knew.” She wrapped her thin arms around my waist. “You had to protect the last Queen of Lirenian’s line. And from everything I've heard from Ignas here, you're doing a bloody good job of it. Your dragon will be everything that Usta should have been, and was never allowed to become.”
My eyes began to sting. Damn onions. I hesitated, then clumsily pressed a kiss to her brow. Rutha broke down, burying her face against my shoulder.
“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I got you involved in this... this freak show,” she wept. “I had no idea... I had no idea Gael was back, that he was LIKE this. Lord and Lady, he possessed a Starborn, Hector. I know Baldr didn't ask for this. I’m just… I’m so glad it wasn’t you.”
“Don't feel sorry for Baldr. He was a jerk on his own merits.” I hesitated for a moment, before stroking her hair back toward her collar. When I'd met her, it had been pure white, tumbling down her back in long, lustrous waves. Now it was still short and brittle, like straw - but her roots were growing in, and they were softer and healthier. “I tried to warn him when we were sitting on the edge of Ororgael's trap. He thought I was trying to fuck him over, so he decided to try and get one up on me and walked right into it. You wouldn't believe how much shit has happened since I last saw you.”
Rutha cleared her throat, then held up a hand and rolled over to one of the tables. There, she picked up a glass of water and had a shaky sip. “There... sorry. My voice isn't quite what it used to be. And I can and do believe you, Hector. I have much to discuss with everyone as well. It is probably not as uplifting as what you have to tell me.”
“I dunno about that. Shit hasn't just gone down in Ilia. It's been kind of rough here, too.” I glanced at Ignas, who snorted.
“Ignas told me about Andrik, in brief.” Rutha nodded, settling back into her chair. “And the Void creatures... I'm afraid they aren't the only Netherthings to have crawled out from under the edge of the Caul of Souls.”
“Yeah, about that...” I joined her at the table, and poured myself and Ignas a drink from the pitcher there. “You were right. The Caul is kaput.”
“Oh yes, believe me, I heard all about that from Baldr, too.” Rutha's prim British accent turned very chilly as she said his name. “The Void-ruined wreck is full of mad delusions about it.”
Ignas accepted the glass of water with a small nod of thanks, sniffed it out of habit, then took a sip. “Just to clarify - this Ororgael and the Starborn usurper, Baldr Hyland, are truly the same person?”
“Yes,” Rutha replied.
I held up a finger. “Technically, they were two different people, but some weird shit happened and now they're the same person. Two minds in one body.”
“It’s even stranger than that.” The sorceress turned her face. “There is no… split personality, for lack of a better term. No separation between their thoughts. I knew Gael better than anyone, and it is him, but it’s also not him at the same time. It truly is as if two people were combined into one heartless monster.”
“Then Ororgael was not always this way?” The Volod regarded her over the rim of his glass.
Rutha shook her head. “Gael… he was my first love. An intelligent, gentle, strong-willed man. Ambitious, yes, but never cruel. When I first met him, I was an urchin in Lys, living in a boarding house and making a living from enchanting trinkets with black market mana. He took one of them and was astounded to learn I had never formally studied magic. From that day on, we were inseparable. As student and teacher, and then as lovers. I know now there was much he was concealing from me, but he was never… twisted like this. Not toward me, or within my sight. But now...”
The woman trailed off, and closed her eyes. “Well. You see the results here, I suppose.”
“And Baldr?” Ignas glanced between us both. “What did he bring to the stew?”
“A career soldier with a god complex. He was already a ruthless son of a bitch when I met him,” I said. “He'd kill you as soon as look at you, and he had a pretty healthy dose of contempt for anyone he thought was beneath him. But he never seemed like the kind of guy who’d torture a woman for kicks. His lieutenant Lucien, on the other hand…”
Rutha shuddered. “Lucien was responsible for most of my scars. They are both sick, in different ways. Can you believe Baldr made Lucien the Knight-Commander of the Eyrie? The state of the place now… you would be sickened by it, Hector.”
“Is Usta dead?” I asked.
“No. Unfortunately.” Rutha swallowed, then took a longer drink. “The last I heard, she was still comatose. The Knights of St. Grigori are demoralized, but powerless to disobey Lucien after he and Baldr murdered Skyr Arnaud and who-knows-else. Half the Eyrie lives in the capitol now. The other half… I have no idea where they are. Searching for you and your dragon, or perhaps a wild Queen. They’re desperate to resume breeding and training.”
I looked down, brows furrowed. “Do you know what happened to Fort Palewing? Sergeant Blackwin? Skyr Tymos?”
“Only that the fort had been razed by dragonfire,” Rutha said. “Something about a rebellion. It didn't last any longer than your stay in Ilia.”
Shit. That was bad news. Sergeant Blackwin had never done me any wrong. Neither had the Meewfolk librarian, Jasper. Skyr Tymos had been bound by the geas that imprisoned the knights and dragons, but he’d done his best to see me to safety. Baldr and Lucien were the kind of guys who looked at people like that and thought ‘hey, free EXP!’.
“I am sorry to interrupt, but we must go to the chamber and present your testimony, lady,” Ignas said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Hector, go and situate yourself in the galley while I assist the lady. It would be preferable that Voivode Janos see you in my company as little as possible.”
“Why?” I asked.
“He is the scion of a very old noble Vlachian family, for one. His ancestors rode with mine when Vlachia was nothing but a savage frontier, and the Vlachians were nomadic hookwing-born savages. For another, he is your nearest neighbor, and perhaps feels somewhat ambivalent about having an immortal Starborn lord on his doorstep,” Ignas replied. “You must brace for the impact Baldr’s activities will have on your kind. I expect that after today, the White Sail Alliance will be far less hospitable toward self-described ‘player characters’.”
Chapter 13
I was still brooding on Ignas’ words when I joined the others in the scarlet gallery of the Senate Chamber. Everyone who had been in the ballroom had filed into here, taking positions on the fine walnut benches that encircled the Speaker’s Floor. Royalty sat closest to the front, nobility furthe
r to the back. Guests of the dignitaries had taken seats in the stands surrounding the lozenge-shaped chamber.
Suri had quite intentionally taken a seat right across from the Dakhari emissary, smirking at the stony-faced man as he glared back at her and mopped his sweating brow. I eased down into the chair on her right, giving him a stiff nod, and quietly munched down on a stack of sandwiches. Karalti wasn’t the only one who felt hungrier than usual.
“This is great,” Suri gloated to me via P.M. “Look at that Rashim’el bastard’s face. His skin is crawling right now. I’ve wanted to do this my entire bloody life.”
Still much, I shot a look at the Dakhari emissary again.”Why?”
“Because I’m Fireblooded, and he’s a fancy-pants little noble’s son whose prissy little slippered feet never touched a road before. His kind never come down to the ‘common’ parts of town except to gamble and fuck, and while they’re down there, they’re arseholes to the rest of us.”
“Define ‘arsehole’.”
“If a Shallatu kid crosses a nobleman’s shadow, he’s got the right to behead ‘em on the spot. Then he’ll make their parents pay to replace his sword.” Suri winked at the man as his eyes darted over to us. “Doesn’t stop ‘em from fucking Fireblooded girls, though.”
“Gross.”
“Totally gross. But we had namecards when we arrived, and that was his assigned seat. So here we are, breathing each other’s air, and there’s not a fuckin’ thing he can do about it.”
Everyone was just waiting around for Ignas and Rutha, so when the doors behind us opened, the whole chamber of people turned around to look. But it wasn’t Ignas – instead, a woman straight out of a King Arthur story strode through, holding her skirt in one hand. She was tall, slim, willowy, with a long straight nose and a woven crown of blonde hair, and strode in ahead of six knights. They wore tabards of white and gold, their armor polished to a mirror finish. Their pauldrons were styled in the shape of snarling lions, as were their open-faced helms.
“Her Majesty, Queen Eevi Leijona Aslan of Revala,” the butler sang out, gesturing to the queen’s assigned seat with a flourish. She was ahead of us at the table, but on the same side. “Her daughter, Crown Princess Sohvi Leijona Aslan, and attendants.”
Two of the Lion Knights bustled forward to pull chairs out for the ladies. The queen of Revala descended into hers with a wryly melodramatic sigh, putting her hand to her forehead before winking at me and Suri. To the room, she called out: “My dear fellows, I apologize for being so late. Our airship was caught up in that beastly squall coming in over the ocean. I pray we did not hold up the proceedings?”
There was a polite murmur of ‘No, your Majesty’ around the room.
“Wonderful,” she sighed again, happily this time, and leaned back to mutter to us out of the corner of her mouth. “Are they just being nice about it, or…?”
“No, it’s fine,” I said. “We’re waiting for Ignas to bring Rutha out to speak.”
“Ignas’? Oh my. How familiar of you.” She leaned over conspiratorially. “Well, between you and me, Lord…?”
“Dragozin,” I said. “And Countess Ba’Hadir.”
The queen wagged her eyebrows at Suri. “Well, between the three of us, I’m glad I skipped the reception. My dear Ignas is duty-bound to spread out tons of those awful little crab and asparagus sandwiches that are so fashionable right now, but they give me terrible gas. And as your lady surely knows, you never want to have gas while wearing a bodice.”
Suri and I both snerked out loud. The Dakhari emissary scowled.
The princess smiled shyly to the both of us as she descended into her seat in a froth of lace and diamonds, hugging a feathery little Compsognathus to her chest like a puppy. The Compy’s head jerked up as a door opened from behind the senate podium, something only it and I heard just before Ignas entered ahead of Rutha. One of his footmen wheeled the frail Lysian woman out, and several people – Queen Eevi among them – let out sighs of dismay or drew sharp, surprised breaths.
“Lady’s tits: what did those Ilian pigs do to her?” the Queen hissed.
“Mama, don’t swear!” the princess whispered back, scandalized. “We’re in Parliament!”
“Screw Parliament,” her mother scolded quietly. “And screw Ilia! Rutha is a friend of the court, and look at her!”
“Ladies and gentlemen of the Alliance, thank you all for being here today.” Ignas took his place at the podium, lifting his voice to be heard through the chamber. “We have all been concerned about the death of Warden Scandiva and the reinstatement of the throne under one Baldr Hyland, a petty nobleman turned dragon knight who has now proclaimed himself King of Ilia and ‘Emperor of Hercynia’. Rutha of Vasteau is known to most of you as an honorable and loyal public servant within the Kingdoms of the Alliance. She is here to speak today and give us more insight into what took place in Liren, and what may happen next. I would ask you reserve your questions and concerns until the end of her testimony. Thank you.”
The Volod offered Rutha a hand as the servant helped to move her from the wheelchair to the speaker’s seat. She took it as gracefully as she could, but it was clear that it was an effort. I reached down and squeezed Suri’s hand. I’d been afraid of finding her as badly hurt as this, down in Al-Asad.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Rutha began, her fluted voice scratchy, but clear. “I am Rutha of Vasteau: tenured royal servant, former court sorceress of his Highness King Rosvind Illandi the Seventh, and then advisor to the Honorable Warden Yoren Scandiva.”
There was a wave of grimaces and soft groans around the room.
“I see your expressions as I say his name, but please, I beg you all to suspend your opinion of the Ilian Revolution and its results while I speak to you of the current, greater threat,” Rutha said. Her eyes turned a little flinty: she’d been expecting the response. “Warden Scandiva may not have been popular among the royalty of Hercynia and abroad, but there are two things that can be said for him. Firstly, he was an honest man who was sincere in his ideals. Secondly, he had the broad support of our populace, who welcomed him after the collapse of King Rosvind’s mental health. But our nation, which was still fragile after a long and brutal civil war, has now most certainly been usurped by a tyrant. Baldr Hyland is no Scandiva. He is ruthless, selfish, a compulsive liar who will do anything – absolutely anything – to consolidate his power. The Alliance means nothing to him. Your laws, and indeed Ilia’s laws, mean nothing to him. As a tenured court servant, I swore an oath of neutrality and am bound to serve my realm, no matter who rules. Rather than respect this ancient tradition of many Hercynian nations, Baldr took me prisoner during the coup, and he made it clear to me that Ilia is only the first conquest he intends to make.”
I glanced at the faces around the quorum while she spoke. The anxiety was palpable.
“You all saw the message; you all know his name. But what you may not know is this: Baldr Hyland is Starborn.” Rutha lifted her chin slightly. “And before you scoff, yes - what the myths say about the Starborn is true. They are immortal, able to return to life after death. They do not age, they do not grow old or weak-”
“You expect us to believe this quatschen?” A stocky man dressed all in gray stiffened in his chair with indignation. “Starborn? Immortal tyrants? Vlachia, with all due respect-”
“Gilheim, I understand your disbelief. I did not believe it when I first heard it, but she is telling the truth,” Ignas said sharply. “The fact we all received the revelation that Baldr had conquered Ilia is proof. The myths of the Starborn were not children's stories after all: They are our history, and history is repeating itself. Two Starborn sit among us today, in fact. Count and Countess of Myszno, make yourselves known.”
Suri and I both hesitated before we raised our hands.
“You two?” The man from Gilheim narrowed his eyes. “Immortal? Only the Lord and Lady are immortal. Anything else is-”
“Heresy, we know.” Queen Eevi sighed and
rolled her brilliant blue eyes. “And yet, here they stand. Not all of us are ruled by the Church, Gilheim, and some of us have more open minds than yours. Our dear Vlachia has never been known for his fancies or make-believe. If he says they are Starborn, it is true.”
“And so is Baldr,” I said, so suddenly I surprised myself as well as everyone else in the room. “I killed him once myself. Suri and I have both died and returned. Baldr and at least two of the people he's working with are the same as we are.”
“Yes, Gilheim, and short of sacrificing them on the lectern and creating a horrible mess so we can watch them rise up from the tangle of their own bowels, we're going to have to take their words at face value,” the Queen said briskly. “Carry on, Rutha.”
Rutha had shrunk back a little while the debate raged on, but quickly regained her composure. “As I was saying, Baldr is Starborn - and as the Count of Myszno just noted, so are his top two lieutenants. Even worse, all three of them are dragonriders.”
That caused a murmur of alarm to go up around the chamber.
“I will now attempt to give you a faithful recounting of how they brought Ilia to its knees,” Rutha continued, pausing to gather herself. “We know the coup began in the Eyrie. The details of what happened there are honestly unknown to anyone outside that place, the ancestral fortress of the Order of St. Grigori, Ilia's dragon-knights. What we do know is that Baldr Hyland first slew the Knight-Commander of the Eyrie, his lieutenants and sergeants, and either earned or forced the loyalty of the others there. There was a revolt at the Warden's fortress, who were charged with keeping the Order under check. The dragons razed Fort Palewing to the ground, and as far as we know, killed everyone inside.”
Oh man. Jasper, Sergeant Blackwin… Kira and Owen. I shook my head, rubbing the bridge of my nose. Suri reached for my hand again, and I gripped her fingers in mine.
“After that, Baldr violated the primary oath of the Order and led a hundred-and-fifty-strong wing of dragons to the capitol,” Rutha continued. “No one was prepared. The events at the Eyrie had transpired so quickly that no one from there was able to reach Liren in time to warn the government, not even by airship. I was at the palace, in a treasury meeting with the Warden and several other dignitaries when they teleported into the city. Dragons immediately attacked the city's naval skyport and took possession of our warships. A wing of them lay waste to the parliament. The conflagration enveloped the building and killed all those inside. The rest came for the Warden. Scandiva screamed for cannons to be mounted, and rushed to the roof of Dinant Palace, only to be confronted by three dragons and their riders. Baldr Hyland, and his Starborn lieutenants: Lucien Hart and Violetta DeVrys. They ordered that we surrender. The Warden refused, and there was a pitched battle before Baldr slew Warden Scandiva and kicked his body off the battlements. I was captured, my spellgloves removed, and was pinned under the feet of one of the dragons while Baldr and the Skyrdon entered the palace and put every man and most of the women to the sword.”
Warsinger Page 13
