The Dragon Mistress: Book 1 (The Eburosi Chronicles 8)

by R. A. Steffan

  He nodded, and I collapsed back into my place near the fire.

  “What about you?” I asked, curious. “How did you learn it?”

  Eldris shifted. “Picked it up in the army, didn’t I?” he said. “Things at home got a bit messy, so I traveled up the coast to see if I could find better prospects elsewhere. I taught myself a few phrases along the way, but the military commanders only cared that I could pummel their best fighters and look scary while wielding an axe. They weren’t too fussed about my oration skills.”

  I suspected there was a lot more to his story than I was going to be able to get in the short time I had available, and a part of me regretted that. Now, though, Rayth stirred.

  “We should get some rest,” he said. “I’ll take the first watch.”

  I wondered if anyone else in the group would object to that, knowing how much wine he’d put away, but no one did. I noted with interest, though, the casual way in which Aristede wandered over and helped himself to a drink from what was left in the skin, then somehow neglected to return it to Rayth afterward.

  “I can take a watch,” I offered, but Gladya only laughed.

  “Nonsense, my dear. First, you must be about to collapse after the day you’ve had, and second, I’m paying good money for these fine men to take care of me.”

  I chuckled, giving in without argument. “All right, then. I am pretty tired, so… offer withdrawn, in that case.”

  “As it should be,” Aristede said, mock severe. He turned to Eldris. “You want the second watch, my friend?”

  “Sure, I’m easy,” Eldris agreed. “I’ll wake you up for the last one, or if…” He trailed off for a moment. “… you know.”

  Aristede’s smile had a tight quality to it. “Quite,” he said. “Good night, all.”

  Rayth grunted, and the rest of us echoed Aristede’s sentiment.

  I settled down close to the sputtering scrub-wood fire and wrapped my borrowed blanket around my body. Despite my aches and bruises, it felt like only moments until I drifted off.

  * * *

  I awoke only once, to the sound of a scuffle and a low cry. I thought for a moment that it had just been a dream, but Eldris’ low voice followed after a short pause.

  “Easy. You all right now, Ari?” he asked, the words barely a whisper.

  There was a longer pause, and then a groggy voice, “I… yes. I’m fine. Is it time for my watch?”

  “Not really.”

  The fire had gone out, only starlight illuminating the riverbed around us. I heard the rustling of a blanket being tossed off. “Never mind. I’m up; you might as well get some sleep.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure.”

  More rustling, and then silence settled over the camp, broken only by the tiny night sounds of insects and other small desert creatures. Before long, sleep claimed me again. The next time my eyes opened, it was light.

  “Time to get up,” Gladya said.

  I made an incoherent noise and she smiled down at me, patting the shoulder she’d shaken to wake me. Somehow, she still managed to look cool and elegant despite her messy hair. By contrast, I suspected that I resembled a sun-reddened troll, with puffy eyes, rumpled clothing, and rats’ nests tangled amongst my honey-colored locks.

  “Ugh,” I managed, language still beyond me.

  A steaming cup appeared in my line of sight. I looked up in time to see Aristede throw me a mischievous wink, though I couldn’t help noticing the pale cast to his golden skin and the dark smudges under his eyes.

  “Thanks,” I rasped, rolling into a sitting position and discovering an entirely new set of aches from the previous day’s adventures.

  The cup contained spicy tea, and did an admirable job of kicking my groggy wits into full wakefulness.

  “This is good,” I said, as Eldris walked by and handed me a round of flatbread. “What is it?”

  “Valdarium root with rignan flower,” Aristede called. He was already gathering up the supplies and packing them.

  I looked around, and realized that the saddles were gone—Rayth must have gone to tack up the horses. It was clear we wouldn’t be dallying, so as soon as I was done eating and drinking, I forced protesting muscles into use and rose to my feet. There wasn’t much in the way of cover, but I found a pile of rocks a short way along the riverbed and went behind them to relieve myself.

  After quickly dragging my hands through my thick hair to loosen the worst of the tangles, I pulled three hanks back from my forehead and temples, quickly plaiting them to keep hair out of my face. By the time I was ready, so was everyone else. I put aside my niggle of guilt at not having been more of a help with packing up the camp, figuring that probably fell under the auspices of what the three men were being paid for.

  I swung up behind Aristede again, wincing a bit as my body protested the exertion. The horses had a final drink, and we headed off without ceremony. Conversation was sporadic, and I made little effort to add to it, choosing instead to doze against Aristede’s broad back. It was not a half-bad place to be, all things considered—though it did grow hot as the unforgiving sun rose overhead.

  When the bay mare’s head began to droop as the sun passed its zenith, Rayth decreed that I would ride the rest of the way with him. I couldn’t very well protest. Eldris was a massive man, and though his horse was strongly built, he was already carrying more weight than the others. Gladya was slender and light, but her gray was a short, delicate thing.

  So I rode with Rayth, and tried not to resent the fact that he helped me vault up with the same effortless strength and timing that Aristede had shown, or the fact that I was painfully aware of every single place where my body pressed against his.

  Needless to say, I didn’t doze any more.

  It wasn’t quite accurate to say that Rayth seemed none the worse for wear after his heavy indulgence the previous evening. He’d been surly and taciturn that morning, and gave the sun the same disdainful regard one might give a manure stain on one’s tunic. Nevertheless, his back was straight in the saddle and his hand steady on the reins. His head tilted this way and that as he scanned the horizon for danger.

  A habitual drunkard, then, I was sure. His body had become accustomed to regular overindulgence, to the point that spirits no longer affected him as they would most people. Such a lifestyle came with costs, I knew, and generally stemmed from an unhappy past left to fester.

  But that was no business of mine.

  As the sun sank toward the horizon and the desert gave way to fertile front-range, the city of Safaad came into view. It was built into the base of the mountains, spires and towers rising from the rock. Despite my aches and bruises, I couldn’t help the smile that pulled at my chapped lips.

  It was beautiful. Exotic. Different than any city I had seen before. I adored it immediately.

  As we closed the final few leagues, I realized it was also much larger and more sprawling than it appeared from a distance. Some of those towers were truly a staggering height, putting to shame even the tallest buildings in Rhyth. The roads were paved in cobblestone, growing steep and winding as we entered the city. The horses’ hooves clattered over them, echoing against the stone walls on either side.

  The smaller, less ornate buildings on the outskirts appeared to be private homes and merchants’ storefronts. As we traveled uphill, going deeper into the city, the buildings grew more impressive. It was hard to keep my bearings—the streets appeared to follow the natural contours of the mountains into which they’d been built, rather than any sort of grid or other logical layout. There were switchbacks and blind corners, dead ends and loops, all bustling with a surprising amount of traffic as evening shadows swallowed the light.

  Lamplighters emerged, using long poles to ignite the oil lamps hanging high on the walls of buildings, illuminating the streets in a mellow, flickering glow as the last light faded. Eventually, we arrived at a grand wall surrounding buildings that shone with colored tiles and beaten metal
domes. I took this to be the palace complex—confirmed a few moments later when our little party drew to a halt.

  Gladya looked up at the massive gates with glowing eyes, obviously excited to have arrived at her destination. She turned to me, a smile curving her delicate lips.

  “Darian is to meet me in the guest wing of the palace this evening,” she said. “We will not be staying there, however—he has his own residence a little distance from here. If you need somewhere to stay tonight—”

  I slid down from Rayth’s stallion and cut her off. “Gladya, I can’t accept anything more from you. You’ve already been too kind, and I’m not about to impose on you and Darian now that you’re finally together.”

  I worked my fingers into the thick hair falling over my neck, locating one of the lengths of delicate gold chain braided into the locks underneath and picking it loose. A few strands of hair snapped, still tangled in the chain. I winced a bit at the sting as I pulled out the hidden gemstone, set in a fine metal clasp and hanging from the bottom link.

  “In fact,” I continued, “I want to repay you for your generosity, if you’ll allow it.” I couldn’t help the way my gaze flickered up to Rayth’s for an instant, or the dry tone that entered my voice. “As you see, I haven’t been left completely without resources.”

  Gladya laughed, delighted. “Oh, my dear!” she said. “You are full of surprises! But, no, I cannot accept payment for common courtesy. Your company was most welcome, and I’m only pleased that my guards and I were able to help. If you’re certain you won’t stay as my guest tonight, then you should be able to find a moneychanger still open, if you’re quick. Exchange your hidden gem for enough coin to replace your lost clothing and supplies, and rent a room somewhere safe. I do wish you’d allow me to ease your way in for a meeting with the prince, though.”

  I smiled back. “I don’t think that will be necessary. I’ll arrange something tomorrow, once I’ve acquired some new clothes and gotten a night’s rest in an actual bed.” I nestled the gem in the pocket of my breeches, and walked over to Gladya’s horse. “Now, go on. Your man is waiting for you and I’ve already delayed your reunion more than enough.”

  Gladya’s grin grew even more brilliant. She leaned down and I stretched up enough to exchange a quick embrace. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Frella of Draebard. I’m honored to have made the acquaintance of an Eburosi barbarian.”

  It was my turn to laugh. “Try not to hold me against the rest of my clansmen,” I told her and turned to the men. “Thank you. I only wish I’d come upon the four of you in Adumine, rather than ending up with Omerah and Midhan.”

  Eldris grinned, and Aristede’s mouth quirked at the corner. Rayth, to no great surprise, remained expressionless.

  “For what it’s worth,” Aristede offered, “Eldris and I will be staying at the Purple Cloak for a few days, should you have need of anything.”

  Argh. There was a temptation I really didn’t need. Again, the offer might have been completely innocent… or it might not have been. I couldn’t deny the appeal of taking Eldris up on his earlier offer of teaching me some new defensive moves. Or of seeing if Aristede was interested in a quick tumble in bed.

  Perhaps I would give into that temptation once I’d spoken to the King or the Prince. What harm would there be? Especially if Rayth was engaged elsewhere, as Aristede had seemed to imply.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, not wanting to commit to anything, but also wanting to keep that door open. “Now, though, could someone point me to the nearest moneychanger?”

  Half an hour later, I strolled out of a neat two-story building with a new coin purse hanging at my waist, its weight a comfort as I looked around and headed for the nearest building that looked like it offered rooms. It was growing late, I was exhausted, and I decided to wait until morning to take care of the rest of my purchases. An extra coin brought me a bowl of spicy stew and a carafe of watered wine.

  Stomach sated, I fell asleep on the comfortable mattress and slept like the dead. And if I dreamed of ebony skin or eyes the color of forged steel? Well, my dreams were my own, and there was no one around to comment on the matter.

  Chapter 4: A Royal Audience

  THE NEXT MORNING WAS a whirlwind of shopping and sightseeing. Safaad truly was a wonder. Even in Rhyth, I had never seen such stunning architecture. I could scarcely imagine how people could have lifted heavy stone and metal to the great heights necessary to complete the towers that capped the palace.

  In addition, everything was bursting with color—vibrant reds, blues, oranges, and greens vied to draw the eye, each building more vibrant than the last. Despite the difficult journey from the nearest port town, the shops and tents in the market district offered every delight one could possibly want.

  It was a different sort of prosperity than I was used to. In northern Eburos, food and basic necessities were generally plentiful. The forests and fields teemed with game and edible plants. Villagers often raised plots of vegetables and grains, or kept cattle, pigs, goats, and chicken for meat and eggs. Clothing was fashioned from leather and hide, or woven from natural fiber. We mined gold, silver, copper, tin, iron, and precious stones. The lush forests provided lumber and fuel.

  In Rhyth, where my brother lived, corruption and civil war had decimated the economy, which was based more on trade than subsistence. In the decade since the people had risen up and expelled the despotic king, things had improved. However, Rhyth still struggled to ensure that all its citizens had access to the basic necessities. The city had its luxuries, like the extravagant bathhouses, but exotic, high-end goods were often hard to come by.

  Safaad appeared to have no such problem, and I wondered if the place held hidden pockets of poverty, or if it really was as prosperous as it seemed. I couldn’t deny the pleasure I took from browsing through stall after stall of beautiful fabrics and clothing, looking for the perfect items to replace what had been stolen from me. I knew I had to be smart about things—while it was true I was carrying a small fortune braided into my heavy length of hair, I had no easy way to earn more money once the gems were gone.

  So, I made myself stay practical for the most part, though I did purchase one rather extravagant outfit. I justified it as a necessity for being taken seriously at the palace. If I was going to play on my connection to foreign political power, I needed to look the part.

  After spending an enjoyable hour going through the weapon-makers’ wares, I settled on a set of six throwing knives—not wanting to be caught in the same situation I had been on the road. Of course, the irony was, they would do me no good whatsoever today. If the palace guards allowed me entrance with so much as a knitting needle on my person, I’d be shocked.

  Still, I’d just spent a morning wandering around the city without seeing a single thing to make me think the place was dangerous. Women bustled around with no sign of fear, their children playing in the squares and courtyards. Armed men I took to be city guards were a regular presence, but the city folk did not cringe from them or evince worry at their presence. I’d even seen people stop and chat with them.

  All in all, the place gave every indication of being a safe, flourishing center of art and commerce. And why not? They were at peace with their powerful neighbors, enjoying lucrative treaties and trade deals with a sprawling empire.

  And all it had taken was the eradication of an entire population of amazing, irreplaceable animals, along with the humans who had loved them.

  With that knowledge in mind, the glitter and shine of the place seemed noticeably duller. I disagreed passionately with the king who had made that choice and sentenced all those lives to execution, but I also didn’t know what it felt like to hold the responsibility for a kingdom full of people.

  I’d been raised by people who would rather fight and die than face enslavement. That had informed my outlook on life, I knew. How could it not? But I could still understand how a ruler might look at the children frolicking around the market square and se
e the horrible things that could happen to them during a war.

  In some ways, I had been groomed for leadership. Though adopted, I was still the child of Andoc, a powerful village chieftain. With my brother occupied in Rhyth, I was the only child who might conceivably wish to step into his role someday. I didn’t want it, though. There were others better suited, and as far as I was concerned, they were welcome to it. Let one of Jacun and Varanis’ children take over when the time came. That would solidify our treaty with our allies in Meren, which was far more important than keeping the chieftainship in the family, so to speak.

  They’d probably do a better job, anyway. Having a fiery temper and a tendency toward wanderlust didn’t really make for a good leader.

  I stood before the oval-shaped metal mirror in my rented room, arranging the draped material of the dress I’d just purchased in such a way as to accentuate my curves as elegantly as possible. Gods, it was a beautiful confection of a thing—filmy in all the right places, and a beautiful shade of light blue, bringing out my eyes. It felt a bit odd not to be dressed for travel, but even a northern barbarian knew better than to show up for an audience with royalty dressed in stained breeches and a plain linen tunic.

  I pulled on soft slippers and wiggled my toes a bit. We didn’t really have anything like these back home—you either wore boots, sandals, or went barefoot. They were pretty, though. Dyed the same color as the dress, and so light that it wasn’t much different than going barefoot. I decided that I liked them.

  The palace gate where I’d said goodbye to the others was only a few minutes’ walk from my room. I’d left my knife-belt behind, trusting my instincts that the central part of the city was safe during broad daylight. Indeed, no one molested me, though a few did stare—possibly drawn either to the dress, my unusual hair and eye color, or both. I only smiled back, and waggled my fingers in a little wave at the young boy who tugged on his mother’s hand and pointed at me with wide, dark eyes.