Dragonvein Book Five

by Brian D. Anderson

  On either side of her was a guard clad in golden armor and carrying a long spear. Their gazes were fixed straight ahead and they remained absolutely motionless, as if crafted from stone.

  As Ethan approached the throne, the queen’s dark eyes glared at him. “You dare to keep me waiting in my own home?” Her voice was melodic and richly feminine.

  He stopped and bowed. “I regret that I was in need of refreshment after my journey, Your Highness. I’m sure you would not want to receive a parched and hungry guest. Particularly considering that this is our first encounter.”

  “What I want is to be treated with the respect I have both earned and deserve,” she shot back without a moment’s hesitation.

  Ethan was a touch surprised by this display of irritation so early on. It was contrary to the measured and controlled woman that had been described to him. Was it possible that a mage’s presence within her palace had shaken her?

  Relaxing his posture, he smiled. “You are right, of course, Your Highness. I should have come right away.”

  Her expression did not change, though Ethan could see in her eyes that his slight capitulation had met with approval.

  “Let us not mince words, Lord Dragonvein,” she said. “You have already been told of my position by King Yularian. I have no intention of supporting a cause only to have my country kneel to a new emperor once the old one has been removed.”

  “And you think I intend to be this new emperor. Is that it?”

  “Do you not? I am not so foolish as to believe that the return of the mages will not come at great cost. And do not bother lying. I know there are others.”

  “I have no intention of lying. And I am aware that the prospect of a return to the old ways would frighten many people. But you must believe me when I say that I do not hold any desire for a throne. Nor do the other mages. I would see a new age rise from our victory. One where all people of every race can thrive and live in safety.”

  “And will we be victorious? Do you truly have the power to cast down the Emperor?”

  Ethan considered his next words carefully. “No. Not alone. And perhaps not even with all the armies of Lumnia behind me. I have already fought Shinzan once and was unable to destroy him. There is no guarantee that I will fare any better when I face him again.”

  The queen frowned. “You tell me this and expect me to follow you? Do you think me a fool?”

  “Of course not,” he replied evenly. “But as you have already done more than enough to incur Shinzan’s wrath, you would seem to have little choice in the matter.”

  Queen Berathis’ eyes narrowed. “Do not presume to know my mind. You cannot fathom the choices I make. If it will save my people, I will take full responsibility. And yes, I know that it would mean death at the hands of the Emperor. But I will recant my support this instant and submit myself to him before I will allow my people to suffer.”

  Ethan nodded respectfully. “I understand your commitment. And I admire your willingness to lay down your life for your people. But doing so will not save them. This world is dying, and it is Shinzan who is killing it.”

  “Yes,” she said, rolling her eyes. “King Yularian has already explained this to me. Shinzan is destroying some invisible spirit, or some such tripe as that.”

  Ethan battled to contain the exasperation in his voice. “Surely you can see it? The desert to the east is expanding, bringing famine and disease like never before. Just look around you. I do not believe you are blind to this.”

  “Mind your tongue, mage,” she snapped. “I see things quite clearly. And I will not be bullied as you bullied my chamberlain. I do not fear you as he does.”

  The two locked eyes for a lengthy and tense moment. She was afraid; that much was without doubt. But of what? Logic said that she feared being on the losing side of the war. But a tiny voice in the back of his mind told him that it was something else.

  “My intent is not to bully,” he responded. “So, perhaps you should simply tell me what it is you want.”

  “If you want things put simply, I can accommodate you.” She rose gracefully from her throne and stepped onto the small dais on which it was situated. “I will fight with you, Lord Dragonvein. I will muster my armies and go to war as you desire. But I require one thing in return. For you to be my husband.”

  Ethan was utterly dumbstruck. For several seconds, he simply stood there with his mouth hanging slightly open, unable to think of what to say.

  The queen let out a soft laugh. “I see the prospect has not crossed your mind. Am I so repulsive to you?”

  “No,” he finally managed to blurt out. He did his best to regain his composure. “What I mean to say is that you are indeed lovely, Your Highness. But I am promised to another.”

  “Yes. I know. King Yularian’s daughter. But I’m afraid that is my price. And it is not negotiable.”

  “Please, Your Highness. You must listen to reason.”

  She stiffened her back. “I must do nothing. I will not stand by while Ralmaria overshadows my realm once you ascend to the throne.”

  “I swear that I have no intention of ascending to anything,” he said. His mind raced for the right words. “If you wish, I will publicly renounce any claim that I might have.”

  The queen laughed. “And what good would that do? Should you change your mind, who would challenge you? I suppose you could use your magic on me. If the legends are true, you might try to manipulate my mind. But I must warn you.” She reached up and tapped the circlet on her brow. “This has been in my family for a thousand years. It is reputed to protect the wearer from any such devilish spells.”

  Ethan was indeed tempted to use magic. Martok would not have hesitated. But he was not Martok. “Such magic exists, Your Highness,” he admitted. “But I will not use it. However, I am begging you to reconsider. I cannot and will not love you.”

  With splendid grace, she stepped down from the dais. “I do not require your love. But the heir to Al’ Theona will be from your seed. And I will not bear a bastard.”

  The two guards and the old servant flanked her instantly as she crossed the room toward the doors, not pausing even for an instant as she passed the still stunned Ethan.

  “I will give you until morning to decide,” she said, before exiting the chamber.

  Ethan remained standing motionless for more than a minute before turning to leave. Immediately outside, a young woman waited nervously.

  “Your room has been prepared, Lord Dragonvein,” she said meekly. “Proper attire will be provided for tonight’s banquet.”

  Anger began to swell inside him. “I will not be attending,” he snapped.

  He allowed himself to be led to a lavish palace apartment. Not that he was taking any notice of the elegant décor or painstaking manner in which each piece of furniture had been crafted. All he could think about was Kat. Queen Berathis had the advantage...and she knew it.

  He headed straight into the bedroom and plopped face down on the bed, not bothering to disrobe. He cursed himself for being a fool. He should have seen this coming. Her reasons were all too obvious – and all too logical.

  With a powerful mage as her husband, no one would dare to challenge her rule, or the rule of her offspring. His own relationships with both the dwarves and the elves would all but guarantee that the trade and riches that came about because of these links would be centered in Al’ Theona. This move would make her the most powerful ruler in Lumnia, even if he refused to take any active role in matters of royalty.

  Cold and calculating. And he was a moron for coming here alone. Though had Kat been present, she might well have reacted by roasting the queen right there on the spot. The very thought of the woman’s proposal almost made him laugh out loud. But the seriousness of the situation quickly banished any feelings of amusement.

  A short time later there came a light rap at the door. Ethan rolled over and moaned. He had no intention of attending any bloody banquet. So whoever was there could just go away. But the
y did not take the hint. Soon the knock became louder and more urgent.

  Finally, exasperated, Ethan slid from the bed and crossed over to the door. As expected, it was a servant girl bearing a bundle of his evening’s attire.

  “I told the other girl I will not be attending,” he snapped. A second later, seeing the fear his forceful tone had elicited in the servant, he instantly regretted using it. She had done nothing wrong. And he certainly did not enjoy frightening people. Forcing a smile, he lightened his tone. “I’m sorry, miss. Please tell Her Highness that I am weary from my journey and that we shall speak in the morning.”

  The girl curtsied and left without a word.

  Ethan returned to the bedroom, this time stripping off his clothes before lying down. For another hour, he mulled the situation over in his mind. But in the end, he could see only two ways of getting what he sought: agree to marry the queen, or…

  The second choice was nagging at the back of his mind. It was the one Martok would have chosen. And it might be the easy path to achieve what he wanted. But for all his power and intelligence, Martok had made several diplomatic blunders. In any case, there was absolutely no guarantee that the queen’s army would choose to join in with his fight against Shinzan should she die, even if it was made to appear that she had been slain by an Imperial hand. With no clearly defined heir to her throne, the most likely outcome would be chaos as several rival claimants struggled for ascendancy.

  No. He would not act rashly. He could not even consider killing Queen Berathis. This needed to be done his way, not Martok’s. There must be another solution he had yet to consider.

  After a time, he could feel sleep coming. He sat up in bed and closed his eyes. Weaving wards could sometimes be challenging, though this one was simple. After muttering a few words, he looked around the room. The slight glow of magic penetrating the room was barely visible. In fact, he doubted if anyone other than a mage would be able to perceive it at all. It spread steadily throughout the palace until reaching the curtain wall.

  Satisfied, Ethan lay down and allowed himself to drift. Maybe something in his dreams would provide a solution to his problem?

  * * * * *

  Ethan found himself standing alone in a sea of dunes. In the far distance, the spires of Shinzan’s palace beckoned. He could feel himself being inexorably drawn to his foe…and his fate. But there was no fear, only the bitter reality of what he knew he had to do.

  “Why do you still cling to hope?”

  A gentle voice descended upon him like a spring rain, and the palace became obscured by a thin mist. Lumnia. She was speaking to him through his dreams.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You must let go.”

  “Are you saying I will lose?” he demanded. “That all this is for nothing?”

  “You already know where victory is found. And you know how this must end.”

  Ethan dropped to his knees and lowered his head. He did know. He had always known. “Is there no other way?”

  “There are always choices,” the voice replied. “But for you there is only one that will save the people you love. Only one way to save them…and me.”

  Ethan felt utterly defeated. Lumnia’s words cut him more deeply than the sharpest blade. There had always been only one path. He understood this now. He pictured Kat in his mind. He would save her. But at the cost of his own life. For them, there was no future. No hope. He had to find a way to accept this – that none of his dreams for a life with her would come true. There was only now. This briefest of moments. And then there would be nothing.

  Chapter Three

  Ethan sat bolt upright. Though memories of his dream remained crystal clear, these were for now forced to the back of his mind. The cold stabbing in his chest warned him that someone – or something – with ill-intent had passed through his ward. Springing to his feet, he quickly donned his clothes. Whatever was coming, it was moving fast. Thankfully, his ward would enable him to track its movements to within a few yards.

  After fastening his sword, he exited the room. Two sentries were standing guard outside and immediately turned to bar his path.

  “There’s an intruder in the palace,” Ethan told them. “Raise the alarm and protect the queen.”

  They looked at one another, unsure what to do.

  “Now!” His voice reverberated loudly from the stone walls.

  His reputation and air of authority was sufficient. At once, the men turned and bolted away, shouting continuous warnings as they ran. Ethan hoped this would help to discourage whoever was prowling about. Though the queen was the one most likely in danger, it also occurred to him that he had not made any particular secret of his coming. It was just possible that the uninvited guest might also be looking for him.

  He focused on his ward. His target was moving east, though without intimate knowledge of the palace layout, it was impossible to say what function that particular part of the building served. He now regretted sending both guards away.

  As he made his way through the hall he spotted an older man covered in flour, with an apron thrown over his drooped shoulder. He was just about to enter a wooden door a few yards further down.

  “You there!” shouted Ethan. “I need you to guide me through the palace.”

  The man looked up at him wearily and let out a loud sigh. “I’m a cook, not a damn guide. And an exhausted cook at that.”

  “You’ll be a cook without a queen if you don’t help me.”

  The man paused, a deep frown forming. “What the hell are you babbling about?” At that moment, the urgent ringing of an alarm bell began sounding throughout the halls. “Who are you?” he demanded.

  “Lord Ethan Dragonvein,” he replied. “And there’s an intruder inside the palace. I need you to help me find him before he finds the queen.”

  A flash of fear crossed the cook’s face on hearing Ethan’s name. He quickly nodded. “Yes...yes. Of course, My Lord.”

  They hurried along as fast as the old man’s legs were able to carry him. According to Ethan’s ward, the intruder was still in the eastern wing of the palace, though his movements had now slowed down considerably. By this point, more and more guards were filling the halls as the alarm bell continued with its strident ringing.

  Ten guards were standing at the entrance to the east wing. On seeing their approach, one of them raised a hand to bar the way.

  “Let me guess,” Ethan said. “This is where the queen’s apartment is located?”

  “You cannot pass beyond this point,” the soldier stated emphatically.

  Though he had not answered the question, Ethan didn’t need him to. It was obvious.

  “The intruder is already inside,” he told the guard, with urgency in his tone.

  The guard huffed. “No one has entered this way.” He took a menacing pace forward. “And no one will.”

  There was no time for debate. Ethan waved a hand. “Stillius tempo,” he called out, casting a spell that would render the guards immobile just long enough for them to pass through. Grabbing the astonished cook by the arm, he hurried on.

  “Do you know how to get to the queen’s chambers?” he asked.

  The cook’s feet were dragging badly. Wrenching his arm free, he stopped altogether. “No. I mean…I can’t take you there, My Lord. I dare not.”

  “If you don’t, she’ll be killed.”

  By this time, the guards had recovered and were racing toward them. Ethan quickly erected a barrier of pale blue light, halting them in their tracks.

  Already badly unnerved, this latest display of magic was too much for the cook. Clearly terrified, he sank to his knees, sobbing loudly.

  Ethan could see that the man would be of no further use. And he could sense that the intruder was now stationary. This possibly meant that he had reached his objective. With a growl of frustration, he bolted blindly down the hall, leaving the old cook where he was. Alternative guidance came quickly. After rounding the very first corner, he nearly
tripped over the body of a young servant boy. His head had all but been twisted completely away from his neck. Whoever had done this obviously possessed tremendous strength. The kind of strength that....

  “Rakasa!” Ethan exclaimed softly.

  Steeling his nerves, he continued running. Even if he had not been able to sense the intruder’s precise location, the six more bodies he came across clearly told him that he was heading in the right direction. Finally, he came to an imposing pair of wooden double doors. The two guards who had been on duty outside were both dead, blood still pooling on the floor around their crushed skulls. Ethan’s ward told him that the Rakasa was very close, only a few feet away on the other side of the entrance.

  His right hand shot out. “Molto Vara!”

  The doors exploded inward. He knew by doing this he risked injuring the queen, but he had to do something to distract the Rakasa – assuming the beast hadn’t already completed its task. Disregarding all caution, he rushed inside. Dust and debris was still settling as he hurtled across the threshold.

  The only thing that saved him was the tiniest flicker of movement in the corner of his eye. Instinctively, he ducked his head and dove hard and low to the right. It was as well that he did. Though the sweeping steel blade missed the intended target of his neck, it still managed to cut deeply into the side of his left shoulder. Gritting his teeth against the sudden stab of pain and while still falling to one side, he cast a spear of fire blindly into the direction he imagined the Rakasa must be standing. An ear-rending screech told him that he had been on the mark.

  Aware of the tremendous speed of his foe, he threw up a hastily cast barrier the very instant he landed heavily on the hard tile floor. It wouldn’t be enough to stop the creature completely, but he prayed it would at least slow it down. His prayer was answered. Ethan looked up to see the black cloaked figure straining to force its way through the barrier, much as if it were attempting to run while waist deep in water. This delay was all that he needed.