As Dragons from Sleep (The Tahaerin Chronicles Book 2)

by J. Ellen Ross

  “It’s your army,” Leisha said.

  “So,” he said, drawing out the word, “one of the men I want to promote is Ladvik.”

  Leisha’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? He’s been useful?”

  “Absolutely. He has a wealth of knowledge he shares freely. He’s genuinely helpful and the men respond well to him.”

  “And you’re comfortable with him having so much responsibility?”

  “That’s a question for you, Leisha. To my knowledge, he’s been a model captive.”

  Aniska snorted. “He’s kept his nose clean, without question. If anything, he’s too well behaved. No one wants to draw Ladvik duty because it’s so damn boring. If he’s not with Andelko, he’s in his tent with Astra and the children. If anyone visits, he meets them outside, within earshot of his minders. Each evening the family goes for a walk, but he’s scrupulous about staying within the boundaries of camp.”

  Frowning, Leisha realized she had not made much of an effort with Ladvik. If she wanted him on her side, she needed to put aside more of her suspicions and spend time with the man. “I should have met with him sooner. If you say he’s useful, I trust your judgment. The restrictions on his movements will remain, though. Who’s the other?”

  “Vially,” Andelko said.

  “I guessed as much. Good, I like him.”

  “The second thing is, I’ve given Tomasz orders to send his archers north with some soldiers and start harassing our friends where possible. I want to slow them down more and give us some breathing room. If this works out, I want more mercenaries to do same. Then we can start thinking more strategically.”

  “I don’t suppose Ladvik has figured out how we’ll deal with the Cursed?” Every report from every skirmish, every siege, every battle between Gerolt and one of the noble’s army defending a town or castle went the same way. The enemy mind readers slaughtered archers, pikemen, the cavalry—anyone who got within range. Then the Deojrin forces swept over what remained and killed without mercy, never giving quarter to any man or woman who raised a weapon to them. In some towns they captured, spies reported priests appearing and forced conversions taking place.

  Shaking his head, Andelko looked frustrated. “No, nothing. We just don’t know enough about them and so we just keep backing away. Obviously, we can’t do this forever. Eventually, we have to confront them, and I don’t want our strategy to be to throw wave after wave of men at them. I guess right now all I can say is we’re working on it.”

  “What we need is to capture one of their mind readers,” Leisha said. “I could learn so much from them.”

  Andelko shrugged. “It’s still a matter of how. They fight ferociously and none of the patrols have been able to take one alive. They say it’s like they’re possessed. The Cursed never surrender, and even if one did how can the patrols bring one back when at any time, he could just kill them with his mind?”

  They had discussed this repeatedly, never coming up with any solutions.

  Leisha frowned and then thought of the little book she found as a child in the library in Embriel. “I know there was at least one book written about us. Perhaps there are more. Maybe I could learn something that way. Where do we look for more information?”

  “There are supposed to be a number of small communities of mind readers in the mountains east of Streza. They used to come to Ostrava once in a while,” Ani suggested. “Maybe they have books or something useful?”

  Leisha remembered Zaraki mentioning these people to her before. Their ancestors fled east a hundred years ago as a rising tide of violence crested over the Tahaerin lands and then Embriel and Streza. “How many are we talking about? And will they help us?”

  Both Ostravans looked at each other and shrugged helplessly. Neither had the answers she wanted. “They rarely spoke with us,” Aniska explained. “We were children and then we were spies. They mostly kept to themselves, coming down out of the mountains on trading days a few times a year.”

  Leaning carefully against a support pole, Eamon gnawed at a fingernail. He should speak up, but when Leisha’s inner circle met, trying to break into the conversation seemed like an exercise in futility. To his outside observation, the group consisted of five impossibly strong personalities who all demanded their chances to speak and give their opinions on every conceivable question. For all his training and education, Eamon usually preferred not to interrupt and to wait for someone to ask his opinion. So he kept quiet, not really wanting to be a part of this meeting, but also knowing he should volunteer his knowledge.

  Drumming her fingers on the table, Leisha made a decision, though she knew it would not be a popular one. “Ani, I need you to go to them, find out what they know, perhaps try to bring someone back so I can talk to them. Maybe there’s more I can do, things I don’t know about yet. Maybe they know ways to defeat the ones Gerolt brought. Either way, we’ve exhausted all the knowledge I have.”

  “Leisha, I’m not comfortable with this,” Aniska said diplomatically.

  Eamon felt his eyes go wide. First, they all spoke so casually to the queen. Now they were going to start arguing with her? All his training and two years’ experience at the Streza royal court had done little to equip him for this.

  “I agree. It’s her job to be here with you. Send someone else. Eamon could go,” Zaraki said, indicating the younger man. Those at the table sat back now, watching these two wind themselves up.

  Leisha shook her head. “Eamon is new and not ready to act on our behalf this way. But here I trust him to safeguard us. Jan might volunteer, but he’ll tell you he’s not trained for diplomacy, Eli’s wife is pregnant, and Aniska knows Ostrava.”

  Zaraki crossed his arms over his chest. “He’s too young for this much responsibility.”

  The corners of her mouth twitched in a smile. She knew he harbored some doubts about Eamon and his motivations. He and Aniska both considered working for mercenaries to be below them, but rarely did Zaraki give her an opening this early in their discussions. “You were twenty when I hired you,” she reminded him.

  “And you were sixteen. Too young to know I wasn’t that good.”

  “Eamon’s older than twenty. Aren’t you?” The young man nodded, looking bemused. His training did not prepare him for this odd kingdom, with its queen who married a commoner, who let her advisors argue outright with her and who appeared to enjoy it. “Besides, you kept me alive.”

  “And I broke my oaths,” Zaraki retorted.

  “I’m glad every day that you did. Would it help if I made him swear not to fall in love with me?” Someone tried to stifle a laugh while Eamon shifted uncomfortably.

  “Don’t be flippant.” Zaraki was smiling at her now.

  “Don’t be stubborn.” She sent a very private and vulgar suggestion to him about what they could do tonight if he let her have her way now. As he flushed bright red, she counted it as a win and turned back to Aniska.

  “Ani, I won’t order you to do this. I understand your reluctance and I thank you for it. I’m not asking you to have Eamon take your place, but you know Streza and I need them. We need them. It would only take you a few weeks if you pushed hard.”

  From the back of the room, Eamon finally spoke up. “I’m sorry if I’m speaking out of turn, but if you’re looking for mind readers near Ostrava, I know where to find them.”

  All heads turned towards him. “Do you? Don’t hang back there.” Leisha beckoned him forward.

  Eamon came to the table and sat down, regretting ever opening his mouth. But it was too late now, and his oaths certainly required him to tell what he knew. Loyalty to his employer trumped uncomfortable feelings and long-buried shame. “Yes, I know where they are and I’m familiar with them, too.”

  “How so?” Aniska asked, looking skeptical. “We were there for years and only ran into a few on market days.”

  “I grew up in one of the villages near their valleys in the mountains east of Ostrava. My family—” He paused and made a face before com
ing to some decision. “My father was one of them, a merchant in Hont. He kept my mother as a mistress in Tolna and when she died of a cough, he took me in. But when it became known he had taken up with an outsider and fathered a bastard, he disowned me. They can be very insular communities.” He shrugged. “I lived with him for half a year, until I was eight. Then he took me to Ostrava and offered me to Cezar.”

  Sitting back in her chair, Leisha thought for a long moment. She did not know Eamon well, but he had the same training as the other two and she trusted both from the beginning. “You’re familiar with them then?”

  Eamon shrugged again. “As much as a boy can be. I know Dombrad and a few of the other villages in the area.”

  “Ani, you know what I can do, you’ve seen the Deojrin and know how badly we need information. Can you prepare Eamon? Tell him anything he needs to know.” When she nodded, Leisha looked at her newest spy. “Do you feel ready to do this? I’ll be sending Jan with you.”

  “It’s probably the best choice, Your Grace. Edik and Cezar still want Aniska and the king dead, but I’m in good standing.”

  She made a sour face. “Well, that all makes this easier, I suppose. Find them, convince some to come back with you. Maybe they know something we can use. Maybe they can teach me more. Just bring me something.”

  ***

  Eamon and Jan set out at dawn, riding east. They crossed the Vinca the next morning and headed toward Achym, the first town of any size in Embriel. They would check on Zaraki’s safe house and spend the night. The most direct route to Ostrava would take them towards Kajetan, but Eamon had not yet decided to go that way or not. He needed to think about it some. He should take them to see Lord Edik, but working for two traitors made it seem likely he would not be as welcome as he first thought.

  With war raging, refugees and messengers crowded the roads, forcing them to go slowly at times. When they stopped at taverns for gossip and a hot meal, Jan’s accent marked him as Tahaerin. This close to the border, people happily traded stories and information, eager for news about the war and the Deojrin. They picked up interesting rumors and passed word the queen of Tahaerin sought mercenaries for her army.

  “So, why do you Ostravans keep coming here?” Jan asked genially as they climbed back into their saddles after lunch on the third day.

  Eamon laughed. He liked Jan and enjoyed the other man’s company on this trip more than he thought he would. “Well, it wasn’t my intent. I traveled with the company and gathered information for them for the last six months. I was in Embriel not long after the Deojrin invaded and let Tomasz know about the opportunity. But the queen’s employ is infinitely more interesting and more secure than mercenary work.”

  They rode on, passing through small farming villages and larger hamlets. In Achym, they spent a night at the red shingled house on Siven Square. Years before, Zaraki bought the property as a safe house for himself and Aniska; a place to flee in case either ever needed it. He still paid to have a caretaker stay there and tend to it. Just in case.

  Eamon recognized the impulse. Like the king, he had a home and a family once and lost both.

  As they rode deeper into Embriel, fewer and fewer people marked Jan’s accent and asked about the war. Even so, they made sure to pass word that mercenaries looking for work might consider Tahaerin. They skirted Arnost to save time and then caught ferries across the two rivers that met just north of the Embriel capital.

  Turning towards Kajetan, they soon crossed the border with Streza. Jan noted fewer signs of prosperity in this kingdom. Entire villages stood abandoned at times, few peddlers took to the roads. “King Villem struggles to hold onto power here,” Eamon explained. “Ostrava is the real power now and works to undercut the crown. Everyone expects Edik to make a bid for the throne soon. A civil war here is probably a bad thing for Streza and her neighbors.”

  Leaving Kajetan, they turned northeast. “I wanted to avoid meeting with Edik altogether,” Eamon explained. “But I think we were spotted back at the last inn. They’re definitely watching the roads and would probably still recognize me. So better just to announce ourselves and then head into the mountains.”

  ***

  Ostrava looked different from when Eamon left three years ago. When his contract with King Villem’s court ended, Eamon had not come back. Instead, he struck out on his own, heading for Meszdra and there he fell in with the mercenaries. Ostrava had never been his home, merely a place that fed and clothed him until he could make his own way.

  Now he could see the prosperity missing from the lands near Embriel had found a home here. New homes and markets had sprung up. Many of the buildings sported fresh coats of paint and everywhere, he spotted new signs of affluence amongst the residents. As they neared the walls of Edik’s castle, he saw they sprouted the latest innovation in defense.

  At the gate to the fortress, Eamon showed his brand and the guards waved them in without any further questions. They did not know Jan, but anyone traveling with an Ostravan spy gained the same privileges as the pupils did.

  Servants showed them to a room where they could change and refresh themselves and promised to return shortly. Jan looked bemused by the entire thing.

  “There are children everywhere,” he remarked as he washed his face and hands.

  Eamon laughed. “Cezar finds orphans all the time. He knows most of them won’t make it through his training, so each cohort is around ten children. In my gang only I and one other girl passed. I believe in the king’s cohort there was only himself, Aniska and one other boy.”

  “I’m well familiar with Fellnin,” Jan said sourly, remembering the beating he had taken from the Ostravan the night Leisha’s uncle tried to usurp her throne.

  The servant reappeared and invited both men to follow him. He showed them to a small sitting room and inside Eamon saw his mentor and former lord seated together. Cezar looked older now, with hair growing thinner and a spreading waistline. Edik looked much as he had three years ago; large and imposing, his presence filled the room. A man approaching the end of his prime years, the Lord of Ostrava still wore the same full beard Eamon remembered.

  “What brings you back to us?” Cezar asked amiably. He poured himself wine from a pitcher and invited them to do the same.

  “Father, we’re passing through on the way to the villages in the mountains. I didn’t want to trespass without announcing ourselves.”

  Swirling his wine around, Edik looked down into his glass. “We heard excellent things about your last contract. What have you been up to more recently?”

  “Thank you, my lord. I believe they were happy with my work. My last job was working for a mercenary company.”

  Cezar wrinkled his nose. “Mercenary work is so unsavory, Eamon. Definitely beneath you. But your silent friend here is known to us, so are we to assume you’ve moved on from the swop-swords?”

  It did not particularly surprise him someone watched the Tahaerins, but he did wonder who they had sent. “Yes, Father, I’ve taken another contract.”

  “You know we still consider Zaraki to be a traitor,” Edik said, voice brimming with warning.

  Eamon chose to ignore the bait and said, “We’re here to speak with the leaders of the villages in the mountains, the ones I came from.”

  Cezar gave him a thoughtful look. The boy reminded him of Zaraki a great deal. Orphaned after growing up in loving homes, both had been intelligent, thoughtful children. Eamon, however, viewed his vows as a sacred contract, inviolate, because he valued loyalty so highly.

  Zaraki, Cezar knew, viewed his oaths in a more utilitarian manner. They were a means to an end—important, to be sure, but they had been a tool to feed his ambitions. Ambitions which took him farther than anyone in Ostrava ever imagined a once-starving orphan would aspire to, much less achieve. And when he reached the pinnacle, he discarded them entirely.

  His eyes cut over to Edik, who kept his face impassive. “I don’t see any problem with that,” Cezar said after a long pause.r />
  ***

  “What are we to make of this?” Cezar asked after Eamon and his new friend withdrew.

  Edik made a face. “Three of our best in eight years? And now suddenly she sends one here to look for mind readers? I find it highly unlikely it’s the real reason. They’ve always been here.” Swirling the remains of his wine around, he drained his cup and tossed it down on the table, clearly annoyed. “This feels like interference, Cezar. Intrusion at a time I need it the least. I don’t need anyone seeing our preparations to challenge Villem. I distrust that woman. Should we kill these two and be done with it?”

  Cezar felt sweat break out along the back of his neck. After all these years, he could not make a misstep now. His friendship and position with Edik would not survive if his lord found out about the deception returning to haunt him time after time.

  Nine years ago, in a moment of weakness, he sought Zaraki’s death because he feared the younger man trying to take his position. Edik agreed because Cezar had lied, saying their pupil meant to defect and set up something similar to what they had built in Ostrava. Tipped off, the boy fled with Aniska, evading several other pupils and killing one.

  When the rumors began filtering back his former favorite had survived and found a place in the Tahaerin child queen’s court, Cezar hoped the assassin he sent would end it all quietly. But far from home, Fellnin slipped his leash and went to work for the queen’s uncle instead. It cost Edik a fortune in lost revenues. They lost four trained spies, all young and extremely talented. The price for Aniska’s first contract would have eclipsed Fellnin’s and Zaraki’s combined.

  Two years later, Cezar received a warning from Zaraki saying he no longer felt the need to keep Edik’s secrets. Any attack from Ostrava on him would be an open declaration of war between the two of them. Several years after, another letter bearing a horse and hawk seal arrived with a similar warning. And so, Cezar learned his former student married a queen and would unleash unsavory secrets if provoked.