The marketplace was busy, filled with stalls and carts offering goods for sale. There was no sign of war except for the absence of men. There were adolescent boys and old men aplenty; women comprised the majority of the people in the square. Men of fighting age were nowhere to be seen.
One woman took notice of him standing in the middle of the throng of people looking this way and that. She strode up to him with her jaw set and her eyes alight with passion. “What’s your excuse?” she demanded, looking him up and down.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Why aren’t you with the army like my husband and brothers? You look fit enough, even if you are a bit scrawny.”
Alexander hesitated, unsure of how to answer her question. That only seemed to enflame her more.
“What, are you a coward? Don’t have the spine to face the enemy?” She reached for him as a crowd of other women started to converge on him. He backed away.
“Why, you little weasel. Here you are, all safe and cozy while every other man of age in the entire country is risking his life for us, standing against the Reishi scourge. What makes you special?”
The crowd started to jeer and taunt him as they closed in. They weren’t overtly violent but he knew it was only a matter of seconds before one of them tried to lay hands on him and he didn’t want to arouse suspicion, knowing full well that Abigail and Anatoly might have to come here to procure the medicine Magda needed.
“I’ve had enough of your mouth, woman,” Alexander said, stepping closer but not too close. He spoke loud enough for the crowd to hear and with enough arrogant anger to give them pause. “I’m a courier in service to Lord Zuhl. He’s sent me to collect inventory reports from all of the apothecaries along this road. The soldiers will have need of their medicines come spring and Lord Zuhl wants updated reports on any additions made to their stores over the past month.”
The woman stepped back as if he’d slapped her, clenching her jaw and bowing her head. The crowd that had been encircling him melted away within seconds. Though her colors still flared with anger, she schooled her voice, speaking in measured and overly deferential tones. “Apologies, My Lord.”
“Where is your apothecary?”
She pointed toward a shop at the corner of the square. Alexander turned away without another word, weaving carefully through the crowd. Rather than attempt to enter the little stone building, he slipped between it and the next building over and vanished from sight before floating through the wall into the shop, nothing but disembodied awareness.
The apothecary was well stocked with such a wide variety of different herbs, plants, and concoctions that it took him several minutes of searching the shelves behind the counter before he found a jar labeled snowbell, stuffed tightly with a ball of wound-up vines, stoppered with a cork and sealed with wax. Satisfied with his reconnaissance, he returned to the cave with a flick of his mind and reappeared next to the fire.
“Hello, Alexander,” Magda said, being the first to notice his appearance. “Any luck?”
“Sort of. Lucky told me about a plant called snowbell that grows in the mountains around here. It works like deathwalker root. When I couldn’t find any nearby, I went to a town a few leagues to the east and found it on the shelves of their apothecary.”
“That sounds more promising than waiting here for my shoulder to heal over the next several weeks,” Magda said.
“The terrain is pretty rough between here and there,” Alexander said. “It would probably take a full day each way.”
“I can survive for a couple of days by myself,” Magda said. “If Abigail and Anatoly just leave me some firewood and some food.”
“You won’t be entirely alone,” Ixabrax said from behind them.
“Quite right,” Magda said with a smile. “I couldn’t hope for a more formidable guardian, and honestly, I want out of this bed more than you can imagine.”
“You might be surprised,” Alexander said.
“Sorry, I forget you’re injured as well.”
“One other thing,” Alexander said to Anatoly. “All of the men are away with the army and the women are pretty put out about it. I nearly got mobbed when I strolled through their market. I suggest you wear some of that armor,” he gestured toward the pile of armor and weapons they’d collected, “and come up with a story that involves Lord Zuhl’s official business.”
“Right,” Anatoly said. “With the size of his army, I imagine he’s got every able-bodied man on the entire island under his banner.”
“I’m sure of it,” Alexander said. “I’ll be back in a few days.”
Alexander opened his eyes as he lay in his bed on Tyr. He was greeted by throbbing pain behind his eyes and Anja’s snout shoved into the doorway of his Wizard’s Den.
“Are you back?” she asked.
He nodded, closing his eyes and sitting up. He swung his legs off the bed, knowing it would hurt and welcoming the distraction of the pain in his leg over the pounding in his head.
“I’m sorry I got mad at you,” Anja said, “but I just can’t stand the idea of you leaving me. It makes my stomach hurt.”
“I know, but it’s for the best. Once this war is over, I promise I’ll visit, provided your mother permits it.”
“That’s not enough. I want to be with you. I could help you.”
“I’m sorry, Anja. I know you believe that, but you’re wrong. You would only put me in greater danger and risk your life in the bargain.”
“Put yourself in my place. If I was going off to war and you were being made to stay here, wouldn’t you want to come with me? Wouldn’t you want to protect me?”
“Of course I would. Believe it or not, I understand how you feel more than you know. My wife and sister are both in danger, and my father is leading my army against a force he can’t withstand. I want to be there with all of them, but I can’t and it hurts.”
A big tear welled up in Anja’s catlike eye and rolled down her snout onto the floor. “Please don’t leave me.”
“Anja …” he stopped when he felt Bragador approach. His precognitive awareness of her or any other dragon, save Anja, still puzzled him.
“Child, stop torturing the man,” Bragador said, stepping up next to her daughter. “Can’t you see that leaving you will hurt him as well? He’s made the right decision for both of you.”
“But I hate it,” Anja said. “I want to go with him. I can’t stand the idea of losing him.”
“I know, Child,” Bragador whispered. “You never should have had to suffer this.”
“What do you mean?”
“You were never meant to bond with a human. Young dragons are supposed to bond with their mothers. You were supposed to bond with me.” Bragador’s voice was steady, stoic even, but Alexander could see the turmoil in her colors.
“I’m sorry that I love Alexander, Mother, but I can’t help it.”
“I know. You have nothing to apologize for. The fault is mine. I allowed Phane’s people to steal you away from me and it breaks my heart that you will suffer for my failure.”
“It’s not your fault, Mother. Just like it’s not Alexander’s fault. The blame rests squarely with Phane and he deserves to pay for everything he’s done.”
“Perhaps you’re right, but we are not meant to exact that price.”
“Maybe not, but that’s what Alexander is going to do, and I want to help him.”
“Anja, hear me well, Phane would kill you, or worse,” Bragador said. “Child, in single combat, he would kill me. You’re rushing into something you do not understand, something quite beyond you.”
“Then we should all go,” Anja said. “He can’t kill all of us, and when we’re done, he’ll be dead.”
“At what cost? Who among us would you sacrifice to kill this one human? He will die of age before you are old enough to bear children of your own. How many dragons would you see die to kill Phane?”
Anja frowned but didn’t respond, instead withdrawing her snout from
the Wizard’s Den and taking flight.
“May I come in?” Bragador said.
“Please,” Alexander said.
Bragador sat in the chair next to his bed and sighed. “She’s stubborn and headstrong. I fear we will not be able to persuade her to stay.”
“I’m starting to get that sense as well. What can we do?”
“Perhaps if she were allowed to spend more time with you prior to your departure, it would ease the pain of your leaving.”
“It could just make things worse, too,” Alexander said. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to spend more time with her, but I don’t want to do anything that’s going to hurt her.”
“Thank you for that, but I fear she’s going to suffer no matter what we do. I had hoped that keeping her busy during your stay would distract her enough for her feelings toward you to diminish. Clearly, that hasn’t worked, so I would give her this time with you.”
“She’s your daughter, I’ll do whatever you think best.”
Bragador nodded sadly and fell silent. Alexander left her to her thoughts, waiting patiently for her to continue. After a few moments, Bragador shook off her feelings and with a deep breath, composed herself.
“There are other matters we should discuss.”
Alexander nodded for her to continue.
“Tasia has returned from the ship that fished her out of the water after her battle with Aedan. Her account is much the same as yours.” She paused, holding Alexander with her gaze very deliberately for several moments. “Perhaps it’s time to consider more drastic measures.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Tasia can return and sink the ship carrying the box you fear contains the final keystone.”
“Princess Lacy is aboard that ship,” Alexander said, shaking his head.
“If your fears are realized, Phane will have the means to enslave the entire Seven Isles. Worse, the shade is still in possession of Aedan. He will no doubt make his move the moment Phane is able to open the box. Either way, we lose.”
“I’m well aware of that, but I can’t sentence Lacy to death, I won’t. She’s innocent.”
“Forgive me Alexander, but there is more to my plan, and I know you will not accept it, but I fear it is the only way to protect the future.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“Sinking the ship will accomplish two important tasks. First, it will cast the final keystone into the depths of the ocean where it will never be found, and second it will kill Princess Lacy, forever preventing her from opening the box. Once the ship is destroyed, Tasia will go to Fellenden and kill Prince Torin, her brother. With the appointed bloodline extinguished, the keystone will remain forever out of reach and the world will be safe from the threat of the Nether Gate.”
Alexander schooled his breathing, his blood running like ice through his veins. He willed the look of horror from his face and slowly shook his head, steadily holding Bragador’s gaze.
“Your plan is sound, as far as it goes, but I beg you not to go through with it. Such action is a violation of everything I hold dear. Both Lacy and Torin are victims in all of this. We can’t kill them for an accident of their birth.”
“Your view of history is short and limited,” Bragador said. “I suppose that’s to be expected, given your age and probable lifespan, but the threat you’ve described, and that I’ve come to believe is very real, is so great that it literally threatens the entire future. Countless generations going forward will suffer or simply never exist if we fail. How can we not consider every option available to us? What are two lives when weighed against every single life that will ever come after this moment?”
“They’re exactly that, two lives, each precious beyond measure in their own right, but there’s more to this than just their lives. The Old Law is the key to creating a future worth having and it must have a champion. How can I stand for the Old Law if I’m willing to violate it in the most heinous way possible when circumstances become difficult?”
“What good will the Old Law do the future if there isn’t one? I realize this is a hard choice, Alexander, but sometimes leaders must make hard choices.”
Alexander looked down, slowly shaking his head, almost in denial, as a tear slipped down his cheek. “Please don’t do this, Bragador. Please, let me find another way,” he whispered.
“And if you fail?”
He looked up at her, his face set in a mask of misery and anguish as he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’ve set other plans in motion, plans to destroy the complex where the Nether Gate is housed. Captain Wyatt is still in pursuit of the enemy ship—he won’t give up until he succeeds …”
“Or dies trying,” Bragador said. “Tasia spoke highly of him. You’ve surrounded yourself with good people, but they may not be enough and my plan can only work until the box is opened. After that, we’re all lost.”
“Perhaps, but have you considered the shade? You can be sure he’s watching that ship; he’s probably on board. If you send Tasia to sink it, he’ll try to stop her. Can she best Aedan? Also, Phane will have to persuade Lacy to open the box of her own free will. Before that happens, I’ll make sure she understands the stakes. I trust she’ll do the right thing when the time comes.”
“You would place the fate of the world in the hands of one young woman?”
“I would. I’ve seen the goodness in her.”
“Your faith is touching, though not terribly persuasive. As for the shade, I can always send several dragons.”
“And what if he could retrieve the box from the depths of the ocean?”
“Hence my plan to end the line of Fellenden as well. Their blood is the key, and they’re far more vulnerable than the box itself.”
“Bragador, I’m asking you not to do this, begging you not to do this. Please.”
“The plan is sound.”
“Yes, and it’s also wrong!”
She regarded Alexander silently, frowning and shaking her head as he held her gaze.
“You would risk so much for your principles?”
“Yes!” he whispered.
“I wonder how many other humans would place such value on the lives of two people they don’t even know.”
Chloe appeared between them in a ball of light.
“Lady Bragador, that is precisely why Alexander is the right person to bear the Sovereign Stone. I know his heart, he cannot sanction what you suggest.”
“Which is why I’m offering to do it for him and for the world.”
“Don’t you see, if you do this, My Love will have to stop you, he will have to become your enemy. Please don’t put him in that position. He loves your daughter as surely as he loves me and he counts you as his friend, but he has sworn to protect the Old Law and I know that oath to be true.”
“I count you as a friend as well, Alexander. Would you really oppose me in this?”
“What choice would I have?”
“You are wounded and surrounded by dragons, what hope would you have against me?”
Alexander shook his head sadly. “None,” he whispered.
“And yet you would still oppose me?”
“Yes.”
“You value your principles more than even your own life?”
“Yes.”
Bragador stood and started pacing, shaking her head and muttering curses under her breath. She stopped and faced Alexander, shaking her head in frustration. “I will never understand you, but I will respect your wishes in this matter. I only hope you aren’t dooming the world.”
Chapter 32
“They’re still following us,” Anatoly said, squinting through the brightness of sunlight on snow.
They were half a day away from the town where they hoped to procure snowbell for Magda and they were being followed by a pack of snow wolves, beautiful creatures in thick white fur coats that both protected them from the frigid temperatures and helped them blend into their surroundings. The wolves had picked up their trail a few
hours after they’d left the cave and were pursuing, but not as quickly as they could have. Abigail wondered if they were holding back until nightfall and hoped that she and Anatoly would reach the relative safety of the town before then.
“Not much we can do about it except press on,” Abigail said.
“Agreed.”
The snow was deep and difficult to travel through. The rough, rugged terrain forced them to backtrack occasionally to find a navigable path over or around a number of crevasses and ridges. By the time they caught their first glimpse of the smoke from cook fires in town, they were nearing exhaustion. Fortunately, the wolves were still distant enough to pose no immediate threat.
The sun was just setting when they came to one of the northern trading roads leading to the town and stepped onto the hard-packed snow. As late in the day as it was, they encountered no traffic until they entered the town itself. The town wasn’t walled, but there was a high berm of snow surrounding it, probably more the result of removing the snow from the streets than from an attempt to build a defensive perimeter.
Anatoly had taken Alexander’s advice and donned a breastplate emblazoned with Zuhl’s crest and marked with emblems of rank. He strode into the village with Abigail a step behind and to the left, his battle axe resting on his shoulder and an expression of disdain on his face. The market was nearly deserted when they arrived, all of the shops were closed and the vendor carts tarped over for the night, their owners cooking dinner and preparing for bed as the light rapidly faded and the temperature fell.
“There’s the apothecary,” Anatoly said, motioning to the building in the corner of the marketplace with his chin. “Either we wait ’til dark and break in, or we find an inn and hope we don’t arouse enough suspicion to attract the city guard, then come back tomorrow and buy what we need.”
“We’ll wait until tomorrow,” Abigail said. “I can’t justify stealing from the apothecary … she’s not our enemy, she’s just a shopkeeper trying to make a living. Besides, we need some rest before we head back.”
Cursed Bones (Sovereign of the Seven Isles: Book Five) Page 28
