Leisha laughed. “That does sound rather like my people. There’s a fair bit that I can’t understand exactly and then— Oh!” she gasped in surprise.
At the bottom of the scroll, in looping script, she read, “Og fe vyl votfne seint, som drager fra savn. Rasveri vyl fylle deres jerter med en brann ilde slukke.”
She paused, remembering the wall in Branik, and saw this passage was incomplete. “I’ve seen it before,” she said. “It means, ‘And they will awake angry, as dragons from sleep. Rage will fill their hearts with a fire no death can quench.’”
“What does it mean, Your Highness?” Sarika asked. It sounded like nonsense.
“We don’t know. Someone took the time to carve it into the walls of my castle, but as to why, we can only guess.”
Reaching into her pack, Sarika pulled out another cylinder. “Well, we think this one is the important one, Your Majesty.” She worked off one of the inlaid metal caps and tipped out a yellow, brittle parchment. “My uncle and I are fairly certain this talks about a people that used mind readers to fight for them. There are notes here in the common tongue.” Pointing at words scribbled around the edges, she continued, “We believe someone started trying to translate it, but we never knew if these were guesses or not. What’s been added talks about a compulsion, something that forces mind readers to obey.”
Leisha lifted the old parchment carefully, looking at the later additions. “Yes, I see that. Now, the old Tahaerin is—well I don’t know all the words, I’m afraid. But, if these notes can be trusted, then I can guess some of the words I don’t know.” For several minutes, she read, scowling as her lips moved silently.
“This is a letter or maybe it’s an introduction. It reads like it was meant for someone who knew nothing about the Deojrin and it’s written by one of their priests. He talks at length about an unforgiving and vindictive god that has no name, because no man is worthy of knowing it. The text talks about the evils of mind readers.” Leisha stopped, confused by what she read.
Frowning, she went on. “This priest goes on to say they enslave mind readers through a compulsion, though it gives only a vague explanation as to what this is. It’s obviously something in their minds, something put there. It says this is necessary to rescue—save people from them.” Leisha shivered, remembering what Edvard had shown her and how the Deojrin hated her kind.
She pointed at a passage. “This seems to talk about taking or kidnapping children who are gifted, or ‘cursed’ as they call it, and putting the compulsion on them.” Leisha felt her unease growing the more she read. “The compulsion prevents any sort of independent thought, but even that isn’t clear. It doesn’t seem to mean they’re mindless, just unable to disobey. The Cursed that attacked us at Lida, they weren’t really our enemy. They’re captives of the Deojrin. Killing them is— it’s killing the innocent.” Filing that away for later, Leisha knew she would have to think on its implications.
“It details how the slaves can be used. In battle obviously, but they use them in negotiations, as message carriers,” she stopped again as her mouth twisted in disgust. “There’s a long passage about using the constraint with female slaves. Because not only can they not fight back, but they can be made to participate. Then it—”
Leisha stopped, not quite believing what she read. Her eyes opened wide as she pointed to the end of the scroll. “Sarika. This last part, it talks about Lida. It talks about the mind readers and how they needed to be killed to save the city. How evil they were.”
Setting the document down, Leisha tried to take it all in, realizing what this meant. “I think the Deojrin were here a hundred years ago. They started the killings, the purge, with their poisonous religion.”
***
Zaraki left the two women as they sat huddled together, never speaking a word he could hear. They did not even look up as he left. He went in search of Aniska and Eamon, knowing they would be talking about the trip as well. Without knocking, he entered Ani’s rooms and saw the two of them seated at a small table.
“Come in,” Aniska said. “Eamon has quite the tale for us.”
He heard the warning in her voice and knew he would not like this news.
Eamon started over again and Zaraki cursed as he talked about the trip into the mountains and the spies that tracked them back home. Leaning against a desk, arms crossed over his chest, the normally warm and affable king looked suddenly dangerous and calculating.
“They tried to stop you from speaking to people and you had Ostravans following you? Outside of Streza? How far did they trail you?” he demanded.
All three of them were trained to report details, unadorned by personal bias, so Eamon knew the sort of answers they expected from him. All along the ride home, he made scrupulous observations of times and locations of their conspicuous pursuers. “Yes, Sire. They were without a doubt Ostravans. I knew some of them. We saw them everywhere. Starting from Ostrava, in inns and taverns, along the roads. I haven’t seen any since we crossed the river. They made themselves obvious so we would know they watched us.”
Zaraki gave Aniska a murderous look. “I did warn Cezar. Twice. If he thinks distance will save him, he’s wrong.”
“Well, it does violate the spirit of your warning, though not the letter. He didn’t threaten you or me, but he did harass our agents. I’m not happy about it either.” Aniska shook her head, thinking how simple it would be for Cezar to leave them alone, but apparently, that would not happen. She knew about the letters Zaraki sent back to Ostrava and knew he preferred to wait until the lies caught up with their former teacher. As spymaster, her obligations kept her busy. Otherwise, she might have been tempted to take matters into her own hands, rather than wait for that bastard to screw up. Ani disliked loose ends.
“I can’t start a war with him now, but when this is over, we’re having this out. I’m not going to allow him to interfere with my kingdom. Not when he’s been warned to steer clear of me.”
It was the first time she had ever heard him call Tahaerin his. “Completely fair, Zaraki. When this is over, we’ll settle this with Cezar. Perhaps we’ll also do that thing we’ve always talked about. Give Ostrava some competition?”
***
When everyone gathered for dinner, Leisha told them about Sarika’s scrolls and what she learned from them. She told them the Cursed were prisoners, captives of their enemies. “But if, as the scroll implies, the compulsion is something put onto the mind readers, maybe it can be removed. If we could capture one, perhaps Sarika can free him and he could be convinced to help us.”
Hearing her theory the Deojrin had visited before and started the purge that killed nearly all the mind readers on the continent, Symon shrugged. “I’ve never read a good explanation of why the killings started other than they were abominations to our gods. This makes sense.”
Despite discovering the Deojrin had likely visited her shores before and engineered a massacre, for the first time in months Leisha felt hopeful. The overture from Lukas and now this new knowledge about their enemy brightened her considerably, and she thought about the problems they could check off. “We’ve figured out how our men can kill the Cursed, and now we may know how to set one free. But how do we take one alive?”
No one had a good answer for that.
Terms
It took two weeks of negotiations to iron out details of the visit to see Lukas in Embriel. Riders crossed the river numerous times before Ani and Andelko both approved of the guarantees of safe passage the prince provided. Taking soldiers into the neighboring kingdom required precise wording so no one could claim the Tahaerins violated Andrzej’s borders.
With assurances in hand, Andelko selected forty men from the Queen’s Horse to escort the party to the river crossing. Thirty would take the ferry over with Leisha and the others, and see them to the location Lukas selected. Ten would stay behind to secure the Tahaerin side of the crossing.
Just as they had done when visiting with Andrzej, they traveled lig
htly, bringing tents with few comforts. With so few people in their party, their tiny encampment was nearly silent after dark, and Zaraki got his first good night’s sleep since leaving the stone walls of Savne behind. The fourth night, they stopped close to the border and in the morning, they rose early to make their way down to the river.
Wide and calm here, the Vinca wound lazily south. The road the party followed ended at a crossing with a well-built inn on the Tahaerin side and stone customs houses on both banks. One of the captains Andelko sent along disappeared inside the inn to arrange for a barge to begin ferrying them across. They would be back here before dinner and then safe in camp by nightfall.
The large, flat-bottomed ferry could take six horses and their riders at one time, though it made for a tight fit and required extra hands aboard. Two trips over and then the royal party boarded. As they waited on the far side of the river for the rest of the Horse to make the trip across, Zaraki talked to the soldiers with the friendliness that Leisha so envied. Watching him charm everyone reminded her again how easy falling in love with him had been.
Once the last riders exited the ferry, Capar snorted and tossed his head, eager to be on his way. Dressed in a lovely gown sewn in bright blue silk, edged in silver, Leisha laughed as she stroked Evka’s neck. Zaraki loved the way the dress stood out against her fair skin and black hair. He vowed he would take his time peeling her out of it tonight.
The Embriel camp sat a few miles up the road from the crossing and they covered the distance quickly. Ani took note of everything, trying to stay above the chatter and laughter. She had a job to do here, but even she could not help but notice the whole party seemed possessed of high spirits. The prospect of a new ally excited everyone. Even if it was only Lukas.
***
Eamon crouched on his heels, shifting around, looking for a more comfortable position. Though not his favorite part of spying, these moments spent watching and observing gave him time to think about what he might do when he tired of this life. It all suited him for now and paid well, but someday, he wanted more.
Before sunrise, he had crossed the river ahead of Leisha’s party and scouted this slight rise. From this point, he could sit hidden in the trees and underbrush to observe most of the Embriel encampment. And so, all morning, he watched and saw nothing to alarm him. The soldiers below went about what looked like normal camp activities.
He saw the royal party ride up to camp and saw the escort dismount outside the picket lines. The Embriel prince and his men sat on their own horses, waiting to greet them. Eamon saw them speak briefly and then they were all riding into camp. Leisha would not want to get dirty, wading through the filth churned up by men and animals.
The soldiers from both sides appeared to exchange pleasantries while the Tahaerin men tied up their horses. As he watched, some of the soldiers stood talking while others sat under the trees and out of the sun. Servants appeared a few minutes later to offer refreshments, drinks from what he could tell from here. Nothing out of the ordinary between two friendly armies. Eamon wished he could stand up if only to stretch his legs for a moment.
A few minutes had passed since he watched Leisha and the others disappear into the prince’s tent. No one had emerged since and no one had entered except a servant who arrived with a tray of something he could not make out at this distance. Ten minutes dragged by and Eamon saw the servant open the flaps and emerge from the tent waving. Boys appeared and untied the reins to the party’s horses. Then they were leading the animals around the side of the tent and out of his view.
Frowning, he could imagine a number of reasons to move their horses, and none of them were good. Looking around at the rest of the camp, he saw the activity and demeanor of the men shift. The Embriel soldiers moved about stiff and cautious, as if waiting for a sign. The Tahaerin men seemed subdued, quiet, none alarmed by the obvious change in the other side. These were trained soldiers. They should have seen it unless they were unable or incapable.
“No,” Eamon breathed, shaking his head, hoping this was not what it looked like. To the west, he caught movement and saw soldiers creeping over the hill. Someone raised an alarm and he saw the Tahaerin men turn and draw weapons, far too slow, as if they were drunk. Too late, he thought. His job was now to observe and report what he saw, to whoever survived this.
***
Leisha led her delegation into the large striped tent that stood in the center of Lukas’s camp. Inside, it looked like any well-appointed noble’s sitting room. A plush rug lay on the ground, and chairs with deep, comfortable cushions sat in a wide circle around a small round table. Along one wall, a huge desk stood, and behind it sat Lorant, formerly Lord of Adrojan. Upon seeing him, Leisha thought Symon was likely correct. Having him here meant that Lukas’s terms would include using the army to retake Adrojan from Gerolt. Fine, she thought. I can live with that.
“Your Highness,” Lorant said, coming around the desk to bow.
When she touched his mind, Leisha saw a confusing whirlwind of images and thoughts. They swirled and folded in on each other so fast she could not pick out anything distinct. It reminded her of Von’s thoughts on the dock and Gerolt’s in the tent. Unsettled by the reminder, she paused but then continued inside, annoyed at the way her heart raced thinking of that day.
She chose a seat across from the one Lukas fell into, unwilling to be any closer to him than required. Two years’ distance was not enough to put away her dislike of him. A servant handed her a cup of wine and she swirled the dark liquid around. She noticed he had filled her cup less than a third of the way full. Taking a small drink, she thought, How polite of Lukas to remember. Alcohol wreaked havoc with her gifts, making it impossible for her to block out the thoughts of those around her. A small amount was fine, though, and this was a very nice vintage.
The prince raised his glass to each of them before taking a drink. “Welcome to my camp. I trust the trip over was pleasant?”
He sounded much less petulant than last time they met, Leisha thought. Apparently, they were friends again, and so she adjusted her plan of attack and decided to be friendlier. “Yes, the day is lovely for riding.”
“The river looked calm when I went down yesterday, so I hope the crossing was easy.”
We’re all being so polite, Leisha thought before taking another small drink. “The crossing went smoothly, thank you. You know, this is the first time I’ve been back to Embriel in eight years?”
“I’m sorry the circumstances aren’t better,” Lukas lamented.
Lorant scowled and looked at his friend before saying, “You didn’t bring your Lord Constable with you?”
“No. He was busy today.” Leisha took another sip, deciding not to lie and say that Andelko sent his regards. He loathed Lukas as much as anyone else who remembered her brief and disastrous affair did.
“Ah, shame. I always enjoyed his company when I was in Lida.”
Leisha’s head snapped up. Lukas’s mind churned with lies—he hated Andelko, yet he felt oddly disappointed he had not come. More lay behind the lies, images and thoughts she could not make sense of—victory, smugness, memories of an older boy at a castle that looked like Branik. Lukas had lied to her before, and he knew she could sense his falsehoods. He should know better. Leisha frowned, her head suddenly feeling muddled and slow. How much wine had she had?
When she looked again for his thoughts, she saw nothing. For the first time in her life, the air around her did not spin and dance with the thoughts of others. Leisha panicked as she reached for Zaraki’s familiar touch and found it had disappeared. It felt as if someone had sliced away one of her senses or ripped away a limb. It was going blind in a huge crowd or being lost in a forest suddenly gone silent.
Leisha relied on her gifts to navigate the world. They were no different to her than touch or smell, and they let her defend herself. Looking around the pavilion wildly, she saw Lorant grin, his expression full of malice. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Ani lean towards her, h
and outstretched.
The wine glass slipped from numb fingers, landing with a soft thud in the deep carpet, red wine splashing everywhere. She tried to jump to her feet, but the world slid sideways and spun out of control. Leisha felt herself falling as the ground rushed up to meet her.
***
A servant brought wine and cups enough for everyone then he made a show of pouring from the same pitcher into each cup. Though not particularly concerned about poisoning here, at least Lukas acknowledged the trust required for Leisha to cross into his lands for this meeting. Aniska thought it showed rather more forethought than she expected from him.
Taking the glass offered, she raised her glass along with the others. She rarely drank anymore. For six years, she worked in bars, collecting information for her employers, and so drinking was part of the job. But once she became spymaster, she needed a clear head at all times. Zaraki never acquired much of a taste for alcohol. Both sipped politely at their drinks a few times while Leisha and Lukas made small talk.
Lifting her cup once more, Aniska noticed a small flower resting at the bottom of the cup. Odd, she thought. She knew of some drinks that included flowers, even a tea where a person might place a large flower in a cup and watch it open after pouring hot water over it. But she could not remember anything like that being common in Embriel.
Just as her suspicions bloomed, just as she sat forward to knock the cup from Leisha’s hand, all hell broke loose.
***
Zaraki heard the noise outside, saw Leisha try to stand up and then crumple to the ground. She lay in a puddle of blue silk on the floor, her eyes wide and blinking as she stared at him. He shot out of his seat and heard Lukas bark something. When he looked up, he saw a broad, triumphant smile cut across the prince’s face. Just like two years ago when he and Leisha had briefly been lovers. Lukas thought he had won.
As Dragons from Sleep (The Tahaerin Chronicles Book 2) Page 18
