‘Hu’s navy looted Galea,’ Paulus said, ‘and left the land to those warlords and pirates of the Nadima Chi – the archipelago you call the Gunpowder Islands.’
‘He must regret that now.’
Paulus shrugged. ‘Not nearly as much as the warlords who tried to settle there. Galea was suffering long before my people left. Our sorcerers’ reach had exceeded their skills at that time. They made mistakes and the land never recovered.’
‘What sort of mistakes?’
The prince shook his head. ‘It is unlucky to speak of it.’
‘Did your parents come from there?’
‘My father, yes,’ Paulus said. ‘My mother was from Aldegarde in the north. She died giving birth to me five years before we left Galea.’ He shrugged. ‘Our race’s innate abilities are a curse when it comes to bearing children. The power can too often appear during childbirth, with terrible results for the mother.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Ianthe said.
‘My father vanished during the sea voyage from Losoto to Awl,’ Paulus added. ‘He must have leaped overboard. He was devastated that he would never return to Galea.’
‘I’ve heard of Galea. Wasn’t that where the first dragons were made?’
‘They used to be the lifeblood of our empire,’ Paulus said. ‘Our dragon lords controlled two thousand leagues of ocean.’ He gazed out at the distant mountains, but she could see that his vision was directed inwards. ‘You should have seen the aral-coas-dimora . . . the fuming towers of the Brutalist and Entropic sorcerers. There are no words in Anean to convey the sense of grandeur and . . . sheer power. They were ripping nature open and reaching into her beating heart.’
It struck her that he was talking about places that had existed nearly three centuries ago – places he had seen with his own eyes – and she was reminded again of how much his youthful appearance belied his great age.
‘We used to see dragons hunt near Fersen.’
Paulus raised his eyebrows. ‘You are remarkably well travelled for a farm girl.’
Ianthe felt her face redden. ‘I spent some time at sea.’
‘Clearly,’ he said. ‘But it is good that you have seen something of the world. Once we are married your place will be in Losoto.’
‘Losoto?’
‘Losoto was traditionally the Unmer seat of power. A thousand years before we settled in Galea. My people sought to reclaim it from Emperor Ji-Kai of the Golden Domain three hundred years ago, and so provoked the dragon wars and the Haurstaf’s involvement. Now the Guild of psychics are scattered we will reclaim it from Kai’s descendant, Emperor Hu. After Hu is removed, you will remain there and hold court in my absence.’
‘Your absence? But where are you going?’
He made a dismissive gesture. ‘I have a kingdom to build. A king must be seen by his people. I can’t stay in Losoto.’
‘But why can’t I come with you?’ She heard the desperation in her own voice and her blush deepened. This wasn’t how a future queen ought to behave.
His smile entirely failed to hide his disappointment. He rested his hand on hers and for a long time they looked out across the valley of Awl, across the lands she had already won for him. He was deep in thought, but then finally he brightened and turned to her. ‘But you will see the world!’ he exclaimed. ‘It will come to us.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Unmer tradition demands we host a spectacle of games to celebrate the coronation of a new king,’ he said. ‘The games offer all participants the chance to come and pledge allegiance to their rightful ruler. Do you see how we anticipate each other, Ianthe? You express a desire to see the world, only to discover that I have already planned to bring it to you.’
Ianthe frowned. Poor Paulus had misread her wishes, and yet his eagerness and passion were endearing. She asked him, ‘What sort of games?’
‘A competition of swordplay and sorcery,’ he explained. ‘We will invite every warlord in the Golden Domain. The finest combatants from across the world.’ He chuckled. ‘And I’ll show them how to fight.’
‘You will?’
She had not intended to insult him, but his expression abruptly darkened.
‘I didn’t mean to—’ she began.
But he cut her off. ‘Human combatants are hardly a threat.’
‘I’m sorry.’
He muttered something in Unmer, then shook his head. ‘We must, after all, withhold our bloodline skills. It’s to be a competition, not a slaughter.’
He was referring to the particular talent that allowed his race to extinguish physical matter at will. His mention of it now made Ianthe uncomfortable. She looked out across the valley and noticed a fleck turning in the sky: an eagle, she supposed.
‘People forget,’ Paulus said.
‘What?’
‘My race has been enslaved for so long,’ he said. ‘The world has forgotten that we once ruled, and how we came to rule.’ He stared off into the distance. ‘There are still rumoured to be sorcerers in the far east, pure Unmer as well as lesser entropists of the bastard races. It is important to call them forth now and remind the world of their powers.’ His gaze now settled on the farmland around the river, and yet he seemed to see something else. ‘Did you know that the word “Anea” is Unmer?We named the land that Emperor Hu now calls home. The remains of the original Unmer city can still be found under the mountains a few miles north of Losoto. It was once the seat of our power, the site of many great games.’
‘The Halls of Anea,’ she said.
He nodded. ‘We called the city Segard,’ he said. ‘But the arena district became known as the Halls of Anea. It was once as famous as the Shogruma in Oduma-Galea, or the Knife Galleries that once spread under the streets of Valcinder. Legendary tournaments were held there.’
‘But I thought Hu had them flooded?’
‘Hu is an imbecile,’ Paulus said. ‘After the Haurstaf drove us out, he tried to flood Segard because he feared the sorcerous creations still loose in there. The pit beasts we used in tournaments, against slaves and gladiators, dragons . . . But the fool had no idea of the true scale of the city. It is far larger and more complex than he could ever have imagined. One might walk for a month without recrossing one’s own path.’ A curious smile came to his lips, as though his words touched on some secret that only he knew. ‘When he found he couldn’t drown the halls, he merely sealed the door.’
‘You mean there could be things still living in there?’
Paulus grunted. ‘Undoubtedly there are,’ he said. ‘The halls were once a proving ground where scryers and bowmen could pit their wits against unimaginable monsters and machines, against sorcerous traps or in rooms with boundless artefacts. Some of those creatures are very long lived indeed.’ He smiled again. ‘All that trove, and Hu left it alone. That’s how afraid he was.’ He was becoming more excited. ‘But can you imagine the battles my people once had in there, Ianthe? Gladiators and Do’eskan cannibals wreathed in flame, blind Samarol and jackal women and berserker dragons . . .’ His eyes lit up and he laughed out loud. ‘Cutting boxes! Have you ever seen a dragon fight a cutting box? Such sport is not easily forgotten.’ He nodded to himself. ‘We will open the Halls of Anea once more.’
Ianthe feigned a smile. She had no desire to watch men and beasts murdering each other for entertainment, not least in celebration of her marriage. And yet her beloved prince seemed so animated. Sometimes for love to flourish it was necessary to relax one’s prejudices.
But then he turned back to the view, and suddenly frowned. ‘That’s a dragon,’ he said.
Ianthe looked to the south-east.
The dark speck in the sky had grown much larger. Now she could see that it was far too large to be a bird. And then it banked in the air and she spied its long neck and serpentine tail. As it moved, it sometimes appeared dark and sometimes the colour of the sky, yet iridescent. It was coming closer with every thump of its vast wings. ‘What’s a dragon doing here?’ she asked.
Paulus stood up. ‘It’s heading for the palace.’
She clutched his hand. ‘To attack?’
‘Don’t be foolish,’ he scoffed. He dropped her hand and set off down the trail. ‘Come on.’
The dragon had landed in the main courtyard, and by the time Ianthe and the prince had arrived, a ring of palace guards surrounded it. The men were mostly Unmer, pale-skinned, swift and lean, along with a few former Haurstaf sharpshooters who carried heavy Valcinder crossbows in their stout arms and an additional twenty-two riflemen aiming their eight foot copper-banded barrels at the beast.
It was a medium-sized creature: perhaps six yards up to the shoulders and some thirty yards long. Iridescent aquamarine scales covered its lithe muscular body, but it wore as a second defence a few scraps of rusted armour across its belly and hind thighs and also a scabrous and ill-fitting mail-curtained helmet that lent it an unfortunately comical look. As Ianthe and Paulus approached, they were joined by Duke Cyr, who came hurrying out of the palace in the company of four of his personal bodyguards. Upon seeing the duke, the dragon reared and huffed and spread its vast gas-green wings across the heavens. Ianthe smelled sulphur and the hot metal vapours of distant seas. The serpent then turned to Paulus and lowered its head again in some semblance of a bow.
The prince exchanged a grim glance with the duke. Then he looked up at the dragon and spoke a sentence in Unmer. Ianthe could not understand his words, but it sounded harsh and accusatory.
The dragon did not respond immediately. It folded its wings again and its head swept forwards suddenly on that thick, sinuous neck, and for a moment it studied Ianthe with eyes like black glass. She flinched. Its teeth were each as long as her arm, the white enamel streaked with yellow, the red gums spotted with black and glistening. Each of its exhalations pushed fetid air around her. She fancied she could hear its great lungs working and the thump of its poisoned blood. Under its nostrils she could see the calcified glands it used to spray poison or flame, but she didn’t know which of those two defences this particular animal possessed. It reeked so strongly of brine that the air soon became difficult to breathe, so much so that its very presence had already started to give her a headache. She imagined invisible vapours streaming from its maw.
‘You speak Anean?’ it asked her, its voice huge and bestial and yet surprisingly cultured.
Her shock stifled any reply.
Paulus stepped forward and addressed it in Unmer a second time.
But the dragon kept its eyes fixed on Ianthe. ‘You understand this language?’
‘I do,’ she replied.
The beast’s eyes narrowed. ‘Good,’ it said. ‘Because I have forgotten how to speak Vensrau.’
Duke Cyr said, ‘What do you want, serpent?’
The dragon turned to him. ‘You are Duke Cyr of Vale?’
‘I am.’
‘I bring a message from Lord Conquillas,’ the dragon said. ‘Word of your liberation has reached him, Cyr, and he is now reminded of the promise he once made to you and your nephew.’
The duke smiled. ‘I see Conquillas was too much of a coward to come himself.’
The dragon laughed. ‘You will not provoke him with words,’ it said. ‘But know that he is coming. This is the message I bring. Conquillas seeks retribution for your many crimes and thus decrees vendetta. He is coming for you, scryer, and for the false prince. He will slay both of you and any one who tries to stop him.’ The great serpent turned its gaze upon Ianthe. ‘Conquillas wishes it to be known that he bears you no grudge, child. No harm will come to you unless you choose to involve yourself in this quarrel. You must hereby agree not to use your gifts to shield Marquetta, Cyr or their allies. Nor must you focus your supernatural vision upon Conquillas at any time.’
‘Arrogance!’ Paulus cried. ‘He dares order us?’
‘These are Lord Conquillas’s terms,’ the dragon said.
‘Now hear mine,’ Paulus said.
But Cyr interrupted him. ‘A word in private, Highness.’
Paulus glared.
‘Please,’ Cyr insisted, ushering the young prince towards the palace doors. He raised his hand towards Ianthe, bidding her to remain where she was. Paulus glanced back at the beast and then followed his uncle, scowling.
Ianthe watched them leave. She could have followed him mentally. It would have been so simple for her to slip inside the mind of either man and thus eavesdrop on their conversation. But her prince had asked her to remain here. If her beloved wanted to speak to his uncle in private, then she wasn’t about to betray his trust in her. As the two men closed the palace door behind them, she turned back to the dragon.
She was going to be a queen.
An ambassador for all the Unmer.
And yet the great serpent terrified her.
It was observing her very carefully, as though trying to scry her innermost thoughts or intentions. Its blue-green scales shimmered in the sunlight with an oily, rainbow sheen; its wings lay folded against its back, the skin as thin as sailcloth. Its claws had sunk deep into the courtyard gravel – claws to rip flesh and bone or crush steel hulls and bear screaming mariners to feeding grounds far across the sea. It stank of the oceans like a drunkard stinks of alcohol, an odour so powerful and sharp that it aggravated Ianthe’s nose and mouth. Each exhalation filled the courtyard with acrid fumes.
One spark, she thought. A careless rifleman or smoker’s match . . .
‘Were you made?’ it said.
‘I beg your pardon.’
‘Did the Unmer create you? Were you cauldron born?’
‘Of course not.’
It bared its teeth. ‘It wouldn’t be the first time they have unwittingly engineered trouble for themselves. As a culture, they are prone to leaping before looking. It is their way of exploring the unknown. It is also how they destroy worlds.’
‘They have been very kind to me.’
The great serpent huffed poisonous fumes from its nostrils with what seemed like amusement. Its great chest rose and fell like an ocean swell. ‘You are very young,’ it said. ‘I beg you not to protect Prince Marquetta. It would be unwise to make an enemy of Argusto Conquillas.’
She raised her chin. ‘He doesn’t frighten me.’
‘That is unfortunate. It is yet another one of the countless advantages he has over you.’ The dragon moved suddenly and unexpectedly, sweeping its equine head about the courtyard and past the barrels of so many weapons. A few of the younger soldiers stepped back instinctively, but the veterans moved not a muscle. The dragon seemed to grin, as though it had been testing the men and was pleased with what it had found. Had it tried deliberately to provoke an attack?
‘Conquillas is aware of your peculiar skills,’ the dragon said. ‘And I know the man well enough to know that he would love to test his own prowess against such a mighty force as you. Do not gamble on his honour, for he has grown restless and the challenge now is everything to him. I beg you, child, not to intervene. For he will slay you.’
‘You’re asking me to stand aside while he tries to kill everyone I love?’
The dragon’s eyes narrowed. ‘Not everyone, surely?’
At that moment the door to the palace opened again, and Paulus and his uncle returned.
Duke Cyr approached the dragon, regarding it with some amusement.‘I would slay you now merely to provide the servants with supper,’ he said. ‘However I require you to deliver our reply. Tell the traitor Conquillas that he is too keen to hide in the shadows. We seek honourable contest. It is our intention to hold games to celebrate the coronation of Prince Marquetta and his marriage to the Lady Cooper of Evensraum. Both the prince and myself will be among the combatants. If Conquillas makes the lists, he may face us in the arena. As a guest of the future king, we will guarantee his safety outside the contest.’
The dragon’s dark eyes glittered. ‘You would fight him openly?’
‘Naturally,’ Paulus replied.
‘When?’ the dragon sai
d. ‘And where? I see no arena here.’
‘The games will be held in the Halls of Anea, two months from now,’ Paulus said.
The dragon chuckled. ‘Emperor Hu might object to that. I seem to recall that he sealed the halls.’
‘The only power Hu has left is the power to keep my throne warm.’ The young prince raised his voice to address everyone present. ‘Any man who wants to swear allegiance to me will be given the opportunity to do so at the forthcoming tournament. And any man who doesn’t will be given the opportunity to face me in the arena or thereafter be known as a coward.’
The dragon made a deep sound somewhere between a purr and a growl. Invisible fumes poured from its nostrils, warping the air around it. It raised its head again. ‘I will spread the word for you. And I believe Lord Conquillas will agree to this. He will . . .’ It paused, as though considering its next words, but then it glanced at the ring of soldiers and appeared to have decided not to voice its opinions aloud. Instead, it lowered its head again and its eyes thinned. ‘It will please him. But does your fiancée agree to withhold her talents?’
‘We do not hide behind women,’ the prince replied.
The great beast turned its gaze upon Ianthe. ‘You agree to this? To avert your gaze always from Lord Conquillas?’
Its teeth were mere inches from her face and the stink of rotting oceans nearly overwhelmed her. Her heart rushed with fear. But she was going to be queen and so she stood in the face of the monster and said, ‘The prince does not need my protection. However, I will not stand idly by while a traitor threatens the life of those closest to me. His enemies are my enemies. Tell Conquillas that I will not avert my gaze from him.’
A profound sadness came into the dragon’s eyes. It observed her for a moment longer, before it lifted its long neck and inclined its head. Sunlight flashed rainbow patinas over the scales on its neck. ‘Very well,’ it said. ‘I will inform Lord Conquillas of your decision.’
It rose on its hind legs and unfolded vast wings across the heavens. The quality of light in the courtyard changed.‘I imagine he will agree to your terms,’ he said to Paulus and Cyr. ‘The idea of slaying both of you before witnesses will undoubtedly appeal to his sense of theatre.’ It thumped its wings – once, twice and thrice, and then rose in a glimmering blue-green gale. Wind rushed across the onlookers and snapped the flags on the palace spires.
Art of Hunting Page 14
