Dragonlinks (44 page)

‘It was self-defence, mostly,' Jelindel replied. ‘My brother betrayed the rest of my family to assassins, but I escaped and lived alone as a boy scribe in a market. I learned magical and mundane weapons, how to cook, sew
and wash clothes, and even how to pretend to shave my face. Eventually I fell in with two youths who …' They stopped in front of a door with 37B on it. ‘Metriele, we have many years ahead of us. Perhaps we could save my story for later?'

B
y the eleventh day of Month-Eight 2129, the Preceptor of Skelt had crushed Hamaria. Arcadia had a reprieve, however, as full-scale war had broken out between Skelt and Baltoria. The Preceptor did not like to fight on more than one front at a time, so he turned his full attention east. He declared himself head of his new Algon Empire, although he retained the title of Preceptor rather than Emperor. His Adept 12, Fa'red, became the Imperial court Adept.

The King of Skelt was trapped like a rat and executed after he tried to flee Skelt on a Lycellian merchant ship. The vessel was caught by Imperial sloops, and the King was bound and flung overboard to the sharks without ceremony, or so the story went. Thus the man Jelindel suspected of having her family killed suffered a death no less terrifying, but it brought her little satisfaction. She had learned that revenge was not sweet, only vaguely
unsatisfying and laced with guilt. Too, Jelindel had cause to ponder the King of Skelt's hand in the murder of her family. It was likely that the Preceptor was not without blame – and Jelindel vowed to make amends if she found this to be so. The Queen of Passendof became a prisoner of the Preceptor. Try as Jelindel might, she could not feel sympathy for her. The thought of all her lovers who had spent the night with her and had then become breakfast was not easy to squeeze past.

The Great Temple's seminary was moved out of reach of the Preceptor. He had sworn a vendetta against the Verital orders after they began preaching against his versions of the truth. Most of the girls were terrified of the prospect of such a journey, but to Jelindel it was just another trip with some dangers, some delights and a lot of discomfort.

The classes that Jelindel conducted in Siluvian kick-fist went well, even though some of the girls were less than enthusiastic students. With the future looking as uncertain as it did, they could need their kick-fist skills very soon. Jelindel missed the mailshirt: had she kept it, she might have combed the paraworlds to see what had become of Daretor and Zimak, but she was only an Adept 9 without it, and her unaided powers were feeble by comparison. Their fate seemed destined to remain a mystery to her.

She relinquished the thundercast, as she had her few other worldly possessions.

Her past became as surreal as a dream.

For now she had a place in the world and real friends. It was still a dangerous and violent world, but at least the dragon links were gone forever. Compared to a lot of people, Jelindel was doing very well indeed.