As Dragons from Sleep (The Tahaerin Chronicles Book 2)

by J. Ellen Ross

  However, the first item laid in his baggage, he cherished. The small book of poems lay wrapped in oiled leather to protect it from the elements. Leisha loved it because it traveled with her to exile in Embriel and returned with her to Lida, fourteen years later. Zaraki treasured it because it was the first gift she gave him.

  After that, he packed away the beautiful, carved seals, commissioned two years ago when he became a noble and then king. For his noble seal, he had chosen an image of a tall, broad-backed Auleron horse because Leisha first made him Lord of the Tymek. When she married him, they combined their seals and now both used a horse with a hawk riding on his back. It meant more to him than the crown she placed on his head or the sword she fastened around his waist. The seal meant she intended to share her kingdom with him.

  Finally, he instructed the servants on which clothes of his to pack. He had to be concerned about playing the king as well. Though he also brought along the things he used to be allowed to wear, the leather vests, linen trousers and tunics he preferred when Leisha needed a spy, rather than a husband.

  Fleeing

  All night, bonfires burned in the courtyard, giving off light so servants could continue loading wagons. It filled the windows and kept everyone awake. As much as Zaraki would have liked to help, kings did not labor, and so he went to bed with Leisha, tossing and turning with her. Before the sun rose, Danica and the other maids who chose to stay with the household came to rouse them and help them dress.

  A quick, somber meal of cheese, bread, and dried meat followed. Several times, Zaraki caught Andelko watching Leisha across the tables hastily set up in the Great Hall to feed all those who remained. They were all on edge, waiting for her to rebel against his orders. So far, she seemed resigned, but asking her to leave Lida seemed akin to asking a mother to abandon her child.

  With final preparations underway, she went to say her goodbyes, two guards in tow. “Can I come with you?” Zaraki asked. “It’s been my home almost as long as it’s been yours.” Keep her attention diverted, Symon had advised.

  “Of course,” she said somberly, trying not to show how much this pained her. Queens needed to show strength and resolve to their people. Angry and proud, she walked with her back straight wanting to say, Yes. I’m leaving my city, but I’ll return and take it all back.

  Together they walked out into the courtyard with their escort. With all the activity, Aniska worried ceaselessly about an opportunistic attack. She preferred they both stay inside until the time came to ride out, but she knew Leisha would never agree to that. Instead, two young men trailed close behind, watchful and suspicious.

  They stepped into a bright, sunny day. It seemed incongruous with all the turmoil and upheaval going on. Leisha paused to look at the carvings she commissioned over the large doors that led into the great hall—her first addition to the castle that sheltered and nurtured her family for over two centuries. Four hawks dove, talons outstretched, towards a great sword that lay in a field of flowers, the birds and the sword traditional symbols of her family. Delicately carved scrollwork unrolled across the top and down either side of the motif, framing it. She had so many plans.

  Turning, she looked towards the great gate and curtain wall she had approved a series of improvements and repairs to. Six years ago, Andelko had requested the installation of additional murder holes and ground-level arrow loops to provide extra deterrents to anyone attempting to take the castle. Now, it seemed silly as they retreated before their enemy even set foot within the city walls.

  Zaraki touched her arm as he saw her scowl, rage clouding her lovely face. “I see Jan over by the stables. Shall we go see him?” Keep her moving.

  They wove through the last piles of luggage waiting to be loaded, the horde of rushing servants, the soldiers. The Yard Marshall stood atop one wagon, directing the chaos as he determined the best position for all the riders and the wagons in the baggage train. He had completed most of the work at first light. Now he needed the horses for the household retainers and their inner circle.

  Seeing them making their way to him, Jan bowed, looking pensive. “Sire. Your Highness,” he said formally. “Marcel needed someone to look after your horses for a bit, so I volunteered.

  Capar and Evka stood tethered, tense and unnerved by all the activity. Zaraki stroked his horse’s long black neck, trying to reassure his friend. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Leisha standing a few feet away, looking towards the mews and kitchens. “Is there anything we can do to help?” he asked. He checked again and thought he saw her scowling in that way. The way that meant she had come to some decision.

  Jan smiled, knowing it was pleasantries. No one in the yard needed help from two royals with bodyguards in tow. “I think they have it all under control. I did see Ani looking for you just a bit ago. I’m not sure what it was about.”

  Distracted, Zaraki turned back once more and saw Leisha looking out at the sea of horses and men. “We’ll go find her then,” he said to Jan. “Thank you.”

  Checking Leisha stood far enough away not to hear, Jan turned his back to her and spoke under his breath. “How is she?”

  “Angry, sad, but she’s surprisingly cooperative,” Zaraki said quietly, looking off in the same direction as the other man.

  He heard Jan say, “Sounds like they’re calling for these two to line up, now. Time for us to go.” But his mind had leapt ahead and barely caught the other man’s words. Too cooperative, he thought at the same moment and turned back. Preoccupied with all the commotion, the movements, the sheer volume of so many bodies and horses, neither he nor the guards noticed Leisha slip away from them.

  “Damn it all. Find her,” he barked at their bodyguards as he raced off, looking for his lovely, pig-headed wife.

  ***

  Ten minutes later, he saw her on the wall, leaning out over the edge and shielding her eyes from the morning sun, peering out towards the docks. Mounting the stairs snaking up the curtain wall to the battlements, Zaraki took them two at a time. In the yard below, he heard the Marshal calling for the household. Symon and the rest of them would mount last. They needed to leave.

  Keep her distracted, Symon suggested the day before. Keep her from thinking about this and maybe we won’t have an incident. So much for that.

  “We have to go. We’re running out of time, Leisha.”

  She looked at him and then away, back towards the harbor and the smoke. Crossbow quarrels, engulfed in flames, began flying over the walls at first light, burning wood structures by the docks. Andelko ordered the army to make token attempts to extinguish the fires. He would not waste manpower on it, but he did not want to immediately announce their plans to abandon the city.

  Zaraki saw her narrow her eyes, saw the determination settle on her face. He did not need to read her mind to recognize the thought crossing over it. Two years ago, her uncle tried to seize her throne and took them both captive. Two years ago, she learned she could kill a man by stopping his heart or telling his lungs to stop filling. She saved him, herself and a handful of others by slaughtering her uncle’s men. Now, she imagined she could do it again.

  “No, my love. Please?” Zaraki said, putting an arm around her. “Not this time. There’s nothing we can do. We have to leave before they get here.”

  Reluctantly, she followed his lead and took the stairs down off the wall, but he could see her mind still whirled with half-formed plans and ideas. “Let me try. Give me a chance,” Leisha pleaded when they were on the ground. “What good are my gifts if I can’t use them to save my city?”

  Reaching out and taking her hands, Zaraki asked, “What good are your gifts if you’re dead?” He only meant to appeal to her emotions, but in her current mood, she took it as an attack.

  Angrily, she twisted away. “And what if I can stop it? What if I can save us all? What if I can save my city? I can’t just abandon Lida without trying.” She looked out the gates now, down the wide road leading to the harbor, down the road that carried her to the
castle eight years ago, when she returned from Embriel.

  Zaraki gave up trying to be reasonable, knowing she would never listen in this state. He did not want to do this in front of the entire household, but he could see she would force his hand. As her servant, he would have never dared challenge her. As her husband, he wanted to shake her and make her listen. “Leisha, you can’t possibly think you can stop an entire army. We have to go. We’re wasting time and daylight. They’re coming for us. Coming for you. There’s no time left for your pride.” An unfortunate choice of words, he realized too late, that only served to fan the flames of her anger.

  For the first time since she learned to kill, Leisha felt a rush of power. Just like that night, it raced through her veins. Coiling around her ankles, it moved up her legs and around her waist, seducing her with its song and making her forget herself.

  Whirling on Zaraki, she struck out with her emotions, showing him her outrage and hurt. “You think this is about my pride?” she demanded, pointing towards Lida, thinking about what Gerolt planned for her. What he would steal from her today.

  In her mind, she saw the people tortured and abused by his pain-worshipping cult. She hated how the images made her tremble in fear, hated how they made her want to cower and shrink back. Now, she knew this fear made her unreasonable and furious. “These are my people. This is my city, my castle, my throne. I fought for this, I won this.”

  Angry words leapt to his mind, but Zaraki gritted his teeth, holding them back. He should have guessed her earlier passivity over the last day masked a boiling cauldron of rage and hurt. “Half of our people have already fled. Tomorrow, Lida is going to be a graveyard. You aren’t going to stop it. Come on.” Horses and riders shifted, anxious to be on the way. Terribly efficient, the Marshal had nearly the entire castle lined up and ready to leave. People averted their eyes, pretending not to hear or see the confrontation unfolding.

  Ignoring those waiting on her, Leisha held her hands out, pleading for time. “I want to try, Zaraki. I want to punish them for all they’ve done here,” she cried, yelling at him now, even as some part of her told her to stop being ridiculous.

  In six years as her servant and more than two years of marriage, they rarely fought, and certainly, Zaraki had never raised his voice to her. He might be king in name, but Leisha would always be the true ruler of Tahaerin. He always felt more comfortable serving her, advising her and abiding by whatever decision she made. She would never tolerate someone trying to overrun her.

  Now, in front of all those assembled in the courtyard, he stared her down, holding her arms by her side. “Leisha, for eight years I’ve bitten my tongue and let you do whatever you wanted to—no matter the risk. Not today. Get on the horse,” he shouted and pointed at Evka, who waited for her in the middle of the line of riders. They were wasting time here, arguing about something so incredibly foolish. She might kill of few of them, but she could not stop their invasion. They had to get as far away as possible tonight.

  Leisha stared at him, enraged at his words, enraged he defied her, the betrayal by the others the day before. She was queen here, and he would not order her around like a child. The power surged, restless like the sea, demanding she release it, roiling the air around her.

  Before his eyes, Zaraki saw the moment she changed from his wife and lover into his ruler. If he wanted to challenge her, she would meet him shout for shout. She opened her mouth.

  “Leisha!” he bellowed at her. “You can get on the horse, or I’ll pick you up and tie you to the saddle. I’ll drive you out of Branik myself. You are not throwing away your life to prove a fucking point. Now, get on the horse.”

  For another moment she glared at him, wounded by his treachery. Then he saw the fight go out of her eyes. She knew she could not stop him from physically restraining her, and he knew her so well. She only picked the battles she could win. Without looking at him, she stalked over to Evka and pulled herself up into the saddle, ignoring the groom waiting there to help her.

  As soon as Zaraki climbed on to Capar’s back, Andelko signaled the riders forward and the party moved out. They would travel through the city and meet the riders and warhorses outside the walls. Then, following the road north, they would make for Moraval. Refugees still streamed from the city and out the northernmost gates. Most of those headed either east, to the mountain passes and the Tymek, or south, hoping to swing wide around the Deojrin and dash for Ola.

  Silence followed the party like a shadow as they wound through the city streets. No one wanted to be the first to interrupt the tense standoff between the king and queen. The rows between Leisha’s parents, Davos and Shola, were the stuff of legends. No one who lived at Branik could ever doubt Leisha’s quiet, reserved air masked an impressive temper. But in all her years since becoming queen, she never permitted it to get the better of her that way.

  In contrast to their ride through Lida just a few short days ago, few people stood on the streets. No one greeted their king and queen as they rode past. Some stopped to watch and more than a few wept. Those out this early rushed about their business, either preparing to leave or hiding their valuables and boarding up their homes. People who could not flee would remain in the city and ride out the invasion.

  All through the ride to the city gates, Leisha seethed, even as she recognized who the unreasonable party was. That upset and embarrassed her more. She cultivated her public persona, tending to it like a garden. Her people should always see a strong, calm, and steady ruler, confident in her power and position. Appearing as an overwrought, emotional woman would damage her reputation and hamper her dealings with the Tahaerin nobility. She always walked a fine line.

  Worst of all, she screamed at her sweet, thoughtful husband. The one man who overlooked her temper, pride, and myriad of other failings. She reached out to brush over his thoughts and withdrew, sensing traces of anger and frustration still.

  ***

  The proximity of Moraval to Branik and the presence of the training grounds for the Horse and Guard meant Tahaerin monarchs kept the road leading between the two castles in good repair. Even so, once they left Lida, Leisha could see at least one reason for Andelko’s quick decision to flee and Zaraki’s fury at her delay.

  Though their stables contained a large number of horses, most of the servants and all of the foot soldiers walked, trailing behind the wagons and mounted household members. And so the train could move no faster than those on foot could walk. Those on horseback could not ride ahead and leave the wagons unprotected.

  Andelko and his captains called a halt before nightfall, to make sure servants would have enough time to set camp. All throughout the ride north, he tried to imagine how he would apologize for the debacle this morning. He had mishandled the entire thing and pushed Leisha towards the confrontation that ensued. Once the tents were set up, the horses staked out, and the guards set about their tasks, he went to beg forgiveness.

  The two guards outside the royal tent nodded to him and one turned to murmur through the flap. Stepping aside, they let him through. Inside, servants had rushed to make the pavilion comfortable. They used a tapestry to divide the large tent in half and in the back, Andelko could see the slat bed had been put back together already. A thick rug lay on the ground, an oil lamp hung from a thick chain from the center pole of the tent and two chair sat off to one side. Leisha sat in one, looking small and awkward. Andelko blinked at the sight, unused to seeing her look so apprehensive and uncertain.

  He bowed, not knowing how best to do this but knowing he owed his queen and his friend a sincere apology. “Your Highness,” he began formally, because she was his ruler first. “I’m terribly sorry—”

  “No. Andelko, no. I’m sorry. Please come sit down. I was going to send a runner for you shortly, but I’m glad you came. I was afraid I might have scared everyone away.” She looked down at her hands and waited for him to take the chair next to her.

  “Today was my fault,” he began, his face a mask of remorse a
nd contrition. “I was so worried about getting you out I ran over you and convinced the others to do the same thing. I thought you would dig in your heels and fight me.”

  She chuckled, embarrassed all over again. “And I obliged you, didn’t I? I lost my temper and I behaved badly, terribly. Like my mother. I’m so sorry, Andelko. Please forgive me.”

  “We’re all far too stubborn, aren’t we?” They sat in silence, neither sure how to continue. A thought occurred to him, as he remembered previous conversations. “Have you ever seen war before? Or been on campaign?” Andelko asked, with a sinking feeling.

  Shaking her head, Leisha said, “No. Growing up, Andrzej never let me leave the castle.” The Embriel king often left his capital to make war against bandits, taking his sons with him so they could learn about armies and soldiers. If his campaign lasted long enough, his daughters would travel to villages near the army, but he never allowed Leisha to come. As a hostage and only heir to the Tahaerin throne, Andrzej wanted her caged, kept safely away from any attempts to harm or kidnap her.

  Andelko felt even worse now, realizing she knew nothing of what to expect and that he took no time to explain anything to her. “Never in fourteen years?”

  “Never once, until I left to return home.”

  He frowned. “Martial studies should be part of any royal’s education. Especially an heir.”

  Shrugging, Leisha chuckled. “From his point of view it makes some sense to keep the future ruler of Tahaerin ignorant of war when you consider how often we’ve invaded Embriel over the last two centuries.” Still, it reinforced she had no idea what her place in this conflict would be.

  “I’m sorry, Leisha. Honestly, I am. I should’ve taken the time to explain the realities to you. How slowly we would be moving, why Moraval is safer, why it’s a far better place to stage a war from. I didn’t think about any of that. I’m used to issuing orders in a crisis. All I worried about was getting you out safely, not having you be a partner. I promise I’ll do better from now on.”