Hawk reached them and knelt with difficulty. "I beg your majesty's pardon—"
"Enough of that, Hawk," Azmei interrupted. "Razem, I revealed my identity to Hawk and countermanded your order to keep him from wasting time." She straightened her shoulders. "I'm the one who took care of the Perslyn Patriarch in Meekin."
Razem was reminded forcibly of the accounts he'd read in Tanvel's diaries. He wondered how Azmei would feel if she knew how much he knew about her past three years. He merely nodded. "You were right to do so. And Hawk, get up," he added, holding out a hand to help the man to his feet. "I know how impossible it can be to resist my sister. She's like a force of nature."
Azmei snorted and rolled her eyes, and so she missed the way Hawk looked at her. But Razem didn't. Oh, gods, he thought, with a sudden pang. That's... The tower shook again, distracting him, as a sinuous green dragon landed.
"Dragons, Az. By all the gods, how?"
Azmei made a wry face at him and looked back at the green dragon. Its rider was slipping down more gracefully than Azmei had, and he strode over to join them. Razem was surprised to see he was only a boy on the cusp of manhood.
"Razem," Azmei said, "I present to you Yarrax, Voice of Dragons, first human in centuries to be so called. I was honored to travel with him for some time, and I believe in his mission." She smiled at the young man, who—despite his outward show of confidence—colored faintly. "Yarrax speaks for the dragons, and they share their wisdom and vision with him."
There was nothing in the protocol books for greeting dragons or the Voice of Dragons. Razem decided on another bow as deep as one monarch to another. "Yarrax, welcome."
The boy opened his mouth to speak, but a clamor rose from below, hundreds of voices raised in fear and anger and confusion, and Razem held up a hand. "Wait. General Kho, send someone down to reassure our troops, as well as the people below. The dragons are come as allies to the royal throne, and not to harm."
Kho nodded and hurried off. Razem looked back at Yarrax with a smile.
"I apologize. You have had time to get used to dragons. My people have not."
Yarrax had a grin that transformed his face from a too-thin, anxious expression into a friendly, confident young man. "If you want the truth, they've been in my head nearly all my life, but I only met them in person a few days ago." He glanced over his shoulder at the green dragon, and Razem felt a surge of admiration at the love and respect on the boy's face. When Yarrax looked back at him, Razem realized the boy's silvery eyes matched those of his dragon.
"The dragons have a dire message for the whole world, your majesty, but Azmei elicited their assistance here in exchange for helping me carry the message. I suggest we deal with your situation first."
Razem nodded. "We have a map in the war room, but I would not wish to be discourteous to our new allies..."
Yarrax shook his head. "They don't rely on sound to communicate. I will be able to convey our conversation to them, and theirs to us." He paused, his silver eyes going unfocused for a moment. "Rexiel offered to transform himself, but Xellax says that would take too much of his energy. I—" He paused. "I think they can be shaped like us, if they wish, but it's not easy."
"Shaped like us?" Startled, Razem turned to look at the crimson dragon. The golden eyes widened, and just for a moment, Razem's head squeezed painfully as a booming Voice echoed through his head. HOW ELSE COULD WE HAVE OUR STAKE IN THE ROYAL LINE?
"Royal—" Razem broke off.
"You understood that?" Yarrax whispered.
Razem stared at the golden eyes, seeing in them a reflection of the golden eyes that had only ever been passed down in the Corrone line for a score of generations. Arisanat's mother had been a Corrone, and Aris and Venra had the golden flecks that flashed in their temper, but nowhere else had he seen golden eyes. "Dragon blood?" he whispered.
Rexiel didn't speak again. The pressure on Razem's head subsided, though he was left with a throbbing headache. "Gods," he muttered. "Let's get down to the war room."
***
Ilzi helped Azmei into a suit of gold-washed armor as the impromptu war council finalized their plans. Yar and Xellax would stay with Razem and Kho to quell the fighting at the palace. Xellax, along with two other dragons, would breathe fire and look menacing while the palace guard sallied from the gate as if they had only been waiting for the dragons' arrival. Azmei couldn't help worrying that three dragons wouldn't be enough to intimidate the insurrectionists, but Razem laughed at her when she ventured the opinion aloud.
"Trust me, sister, one dragon would probably be enough. Especially when word comes back that you've seized the rebel leaders."
That was Azmei's part—to take Hawk, Rexiel, Vetterix, and Xerin and clear a path through the streets for a mixed group of soldiers belonging to Ilzi and to the crown. Ilzi's Captain Rone would lead them, and their only task was to take captive the four leaders of the rebellion. Tarra had pleaded for her mother's life, but Razem, his voice grim but gentle, had stated it was death to be part of treason against the crown, and Tarra had accepted his judgment without tears.
Ilzi tugged the last strap tight and slapped Azmei's shoulder. "Ouch!" she said, shaking her hand, and kissed Azmei's cheek. "I wish I were going with you, cousin. To fly on the back of a dragon and finish the rebellion!"
Azmei shook her head. "Be glad you don't have to. I am grateful beyond measure that you came to our aid, but I hate that you had to fight when you're still so young."
"You aren't that much older," Ilzi protested, but Azmei lifted a hand, laughing.
"Eight years isn't that much older? And I didn't have my first real fight until three years ago. Have patience, Ilzi. There are such storms coming as shall shake the very foundations of the earth. You will see your share of fighting."
The sorrow in her voice sobered Ilzi, but before her cousin could grow truly frightened, Azmei grinned at her and kissed her forehead. "Now go make sure my brother doesn't do something reckless like get on a dragon's back himself."
Azmei and Hawk climbed the tower steps alone and in silence. Azmei wondered what he was thinking. Arisanat had tried to kill them both. Did Hawk hate him for that? Did she? But she felt no hatred as she climbed the steps. She felt mostly sad. There had been so much promise when they were all young together. Where had that promise gone so wrong?
As they climbed, she felt the pressure in her head increasing. Had Rexiel really meant that the Corrone family had a dragon as one of their ancestors? Razem believed it, if his whispered comment to her on their way to the war room was any indication. It might explain how she had understood the dragons once, and how their attempts to communicate with her almost broke through. She wondered if they had wanted a ruler with dragon blood so they wouldn't have to search for a Voice of Dragons. With effort, she thrust the thoughts from her mind. It was time for her to concentrate on the task at hand.
God of peace, she thought guiltily, I have been remiss in my meditation. Grant us success, I pray you. There will be no peace as long as my cousin has rebellion and hatred in his heart. Help us defeat him. Guide my hand in the service of peace. Even as she prayed it, she felt a fraud. What if peace meant Razem losing? She wouldn't allow that. She was not, in her heart of hearts, serving peace. She was serving her brother.
When they reached the top of the tower, Rexiel was stamping impatiently. He trumpeted at her as soon as he saw her, and Azmei broke into a jog. Had their steps lagged as they climbed? She watched Hawk running to Vetterix and realized he was favoring his leg. She had automatically matched her pace to his.
"All right," she said, climbing up Rexiel's front leg. It was more awkward in a breastplate and chain than it had been in linen and silk. "We're here now. Let's go."
With a sky-shattering bellow, Rexiel lifted into the air. For a moment, Azmei was flattened against his back, held in place by the weight of the wind. Then they were swooping down over the palace walls into the square they had agreed on. The fighting was lightest there, and t
rue to Kho's expectations, the rebels broke as soon as they saw the two dragons bearing down on them.
It wouldn't last, Azmei knew. Sooner or later they would find their courage and make a stand. But as she watched Captain Rone and his soldiers securing the street below, she found it in her heart to hope it wouldn't happen until they reached Arisanat's home.
As it turned out, she had underestimated the sheer terror factor of dragons. Exposure through Yar, who could speak to them, had inured her, making her forget her initial fear. The further they flew, the dragons blasting fire harmlessly into the air and bellowing in false rage, the less resistance they encountered. When they reached the only intersection with barricades, it was completely unmanned, the square behind the barricade littered with dropped weapons.
The crown soldiers slowed as they tried to clamber up the barricade. Azmei shouted, "Wait! Fall back from it!" She didn't need to explain to Rexiel. As soon as the soldiers were a safe distance away, he circled around and flew at the barricade, loosing a blast of flame that engulfed it. In a matter of minutes, the barricade was smoking rubble and ash. It was the perfect opportunity to demonstrate the sheer might of the dragons. Hopefully word of this would travel swiftly to the other rebels and steal the heart out of them.
Across the square, Arisanat's house stood shuttered and locked tight. Azmei had no doubt they were watching from within, so she simply nudged Rexiel to settle down in the middle of the square. Vetterix and Xerin would circle around behind the buildings in the square, clearing a path for the soldiers to fan out and surround Arisanat's house. Azmei didn't watch them. She merely sat astride Rexiel and waited. She could burn the house down around them, stone or no stone. The fact that she didn't meant she was willing to talk. They would come out. Curiosity would get the better of them sooner or later. She could wait.
It didn't take as long as she had anticipated. The door cracked open and Lord Birona lumbered outside, his bulky figure squeezed into armor as it probably hadn't been in twenty years. Azmei didn't dismount as the crafty head of the Third Family crossed the yard to stand in front of her. She had to admire his courage, despite her dislike. There couldn't be many men who would willingly come out to face a dragon.
Birona stopped some distance away, perhaps hoping he was out of range of the dragon's teeth. He studied Azmei for a long moment. She had forgone a helmet for just this reason—she wanted everyone to recognize her and see she was back from the dead.
"So. Princess Azmei Corrone." Birona made a face of disappointment. "Another of Burojan's failures, I see."
She arched an eyebrow. "So you know your ally attempted my murder three years ago."
Birona lifted a hand, palm up, in lieu of a shrug. "As he succeeded in murdering your father three weeks ago," he replied. "When I allied myself with him, I thought he was sane and in control. He intended to carry the war with Strid to a victorious conclusion, rather than letting it drag on for another twenty years. I intended to profit from that."
"That doesn't seem to be working out quite as you'd hoped," Azmei replied. "What is your plan now, Birona? I know you too well to think you don't have one."
"Come down from there. It's ridiculous to shout up at you while you're sitting on the back of that beast." His tone was one of arrogant annoyance, as if she were his daughter caught out stealing sweets from the pantry. Azmei suppressed a flash of rage, but she would not let that stand. Her hand whipped out and a moment later Birona was staring down at a dagger buried hilt-deep in the packed dirt at his feet.
"You will not speak to me in that fashion," Azmei said coldly. "You have nothing with which to bargain, Birona. Speak respectfully, or be silent and send my cousin out to speak."
He snorted. "Do you think he'll be more respectful?" he asked, but his stance was wary now. Good. He must learn he was not dealing with a naïve, young princess anymore.
"What is your proposal?" she snapped.
Birona bowed. "Lord Belnat and I are prepared to surrender Burojan to you without a struggle. We will also surrender ourselves peacefully, if you will guarantee our safety."
Faced with the princess he had thought dead and her dragon allies, and Birona still thought only to bargain for his own safety. Ah, Birona, you are shrewd, but I fear you are short-sighted, Azmei thought. Then again, his willingness to participate in a rebellion purely for profit proved that. She sighed.
"Bring Arisanat out to face me," she ordered. "And Belnat as well." When Birona hesitated, she shouted, "Go!" Rexiel shifted under her, and that last was too much even for Birona's stubborn pride. He turned and all but ran for the door.
Arisanat was not dressed for war. He wore rich purple robes edged in gold and a heavy ceremonial chain around his neck, from which hung his family symbol of a block of marble with a crossed chisel and hammer. Birona had come to her as the warleader of a rebellion; Arisanat came to her as a monarch waiting to be crowned—or a man deep in mourning. Azmei swallowed her sudden grief at the thought of Venra and made her face hard. Her cousin wore no armor, but he did wear his sword.
"Cousin." Arisanat came much closer than Birona had. He peered up into her face, hope and disappointment warring in his expression. "Part of me is glad to learn I failed," he admitted. "Venra loved you so much. How amazed he would be to see you now."
Despite her resolve, Azmei shook her head. "Oh, Aris. You have been such a fool." Her voice was softer than she'd meant it to be. "Do you really think this is what Venra would have wanted?"
Arisanat bowed his head. "He isn't here to want anything, is he? Strid killed him, and so I will see Strid destroyed. Every last one of them." His voice was so calm it chilled Azmei. He had chosen his path deliberately, not in madness. And still he was unrepentant.
"At what cost?" Azmei demanded. "That of destroying Tamnen's royal family along with Strid's? That of destabilizing the throne? That of murdering and betraying those who only ever loved you?"
Arisanat lifted his chin. "A crown isn't stable if it's on the head of a weak, unworthy king." He faltered. "Love or no love."
His treachery was taking its toll on him, she realized. He had been an honorable man once, an intelligent, somewhat priggish elder brother, exasperated and plagued by their childish tricks, but loyal. Some part of him must hate what he had become. If only she could appeal to that part and persuade him to repent. It wouldn't save him, but it would make this easier on Razem.
"Arisanat, I must demand your surrender," she said, her voice clear and pitched to carry to Lords Birona and Belnat, who hovered nervously at a safe distance. "My brother cannot now be merciful, but unless you submit yourself willingly to his rule, he will be forced to eradicate House Burojan entirely as punishment for your sins and to destroy any remaining element of sedition. Does your son deserve to die for his father's sins?"
Arisanat's resolve broke into astonishment. "He's only a boy!" he protested.
Azmei let herself go very still, her face hard. She said, coldly, "So is Prince Kaiden of Strid."
"You will not harm Variden!" Arisanat shouted. Lord Belnat ran towards Arisanat. Perhaps he meant to calm him, but Arisanat heard the footsteps approaching and whirled, drawing his sword. Belnat wasn't expecting it. He flailed to a stop, fumbling out his own sword. Captain Rone's soldiers, not yet in place, raced to intervene, but they were slow. Belnat was bleeding heavily from one arm by the time they took Arisanat and Belnat into custody.
Azmei frowned. Where had Birona gone? He had been standing back by the house just a moment ago...
Someone cried out as Vetterix landed next to Rexiel. When she turned to look, she saw Hawk begin to slip from Vetterix's back. He caught himself on the strap, but he was grimacing, and she could see his bad leg was twisted awkwardly.
"Hawk!" She slid down Rexiel's back and drew her dagger. "Here, lean on me." She got a shoulder under his arm to support him and then cut the strap.
Hawk grunted and stumbled against her, his free hand resting on Vetterix's flank.
"Are you hurt?
" she breathed.
He shook his head and looked up, his face flushed. "Embarrassed. Vetterix turned too sharply and I wrenched my bad leg." He coughed and glanced behind her. "I'm afraid we have an audience."
She gave him a crooked smile. "Three years of not being a princess have taken their toll," she said. "I've forgotten how to act regal."
"No, you haven't," he murmured. He straightened and pulled away from her.
Trying not to regret the new distance between them, Azmei strode forward, her gaze on Arisanat. She would look him in the face before he was taken to stand before her brother. Arisanat's eyes had shadows under them, and there were new lines by his eyes and mouth. He met her gaze for only a moment before his faltered.
"Aris," she whispered. "I could almost forgive you for myself. But I will never forgive you for murdering my father." And Tanvel. She swallowed. "Shame on you. Shame on your whole house."
As she turned away, Arisanat recoiled. The guards holding him shouted, and she heard Hawk scream her name. She spun to face whatever threat was approaching.
"Birona!" she spat, eyes widening as the man charged her, light flashing from his upraised sword. His fleshy face was contorted with hatred.
Azmei grabbed at her sword hilt, but before she could draw, a gaping red maw shoved between her and the charging third lord. Her hair whipped across her face in the wind of Rexiel's movement as the dragon's jaws chomped shut on Birona's head and shoulder with an audible crunch.
Azmei stumbled back, shuddering at the snap of bones between Rexiel's teeth. What remained of Birona's body crumpled, gushing blood across the courtyard. Then Hawk was there, one hand on her elbow, guiding her away from the dragon. Rexiel snorted and turned golden eyes to Azmei. She heard the dragon remark, XELLAX WILL BE SO DISAPPOINTED.
She turned back to face Captain Rone's soldiers, who were suddenly twenty feet further away from the dragon. Arisanat, held between two of them, opened his mouth, staring at her wordlessly. Azmei met his gaze, then looked beyond him to where Lord Belnat huddled against the side of the house.
Stormseer (Storms in Amethir Book 3) Page 40
