“I think we’re going to need his help.”
“You are going to summon a god and you don’t even know his name?”
“Got any better ideas?” When neither of them answered her she turned back to face the thrashing ocean. “Kaelarn!”
The ocean surged below them. Cold spray showered them as the waves swelled. Out of the steely depths a figure appeared, vaguely human in form, but shaped from the sea itself. It rose out of the surf until it loomed over them. R’shiel had to strain her neck to look up at him.
“So the demon child has need of me,” Kaelarn boomed wetly. He had the most unpleasant voice R’shiel had ever heard. It was like someone talking through a bucket of water. She fervently hoped nobody else could hear him.
“We need to get away from this place. We need a boat.”
“A boat? You have demons to meld boats for you, demon child.”
R’shiel glanced over her shoulder as shouts drifted down from the guardroom. The sleeping guards had been discovered. It was only a matter of time before Adrina’s absence was noted.
“A meld will take too long.”
“You wish to aid these humans, I presume?” he asked, pointing a watery arm at Damin and Adrina.
“Yes.”
“Is this part of your task to defeat Xaphista, or merely a whim?”
“It is most definitely part of my task.”
“Then I shall aid you, demon child. However, I cannot conjure up a boat. Perhaps this will suffice.”
With a tremendous splash, Kaelarn returned to the ocean. The sea churned and boiled as the god vanished. R’shiel looked about her in frustration. Kaelarn had disappeared and the sea was still facing them, churning savagely as it ate at the rock beneath the castle.
“Well, he was a big help,” she muttered in annoyance.
“R’shiel! Look!” Adrina suddenly cried in delight.
Out of the foaming waves, three red-grey creatures approached, their large dorsal fins slicing through the water. Just like the creature in the fountain in Greenharbour, they had long, elegant tails ending in broad, flipper-like paddles. Their wide-set intelligent eyes looked straight at them as they surfed towards the dock. R’shiel had grown up in landlocked Medalon. She had never seen anything like them before.
“What are they?”
“Water dragons!”
“Are they dangerous?”
Damin laughed at her expression. “No. They’re called the ‘fisherman’s friends’. We can ride them.”
“
Ride
them?”
The water dragons edged their way to the dock as the shouting in the guardroom grew louder. Without hesitating, Damin and Adrina slipped into the water and climbed aboard the creatures, grabbing hold of their dorsal fins.
“I can’t swim, Damin.”
“Come on! You don’t baulk at riding dragons.”
With another glance over her shoulder at the stairs to the guardroom, R’shiel decided she didn’t have time to be squeamish. She slipped into the water,
gasping as the chill salty ocean filled her mouth. She began to panic as the waves crashed over her, then a warm, solid body pushed her clear of the foam. She grabbed for the beast’s fin and pulled herself upright as it plunged through the waves in the wake of the creatures carrying Adrina and Damin.
R’shiel clung to the beast in terror as the castle dwindled in the distance, determined never, as long as she lived, to ask another god for his help again.
Just on sunset, at R’shiel’s insistence, the water dragons left them on a small beach not far from Greenharbour. It was partly because she wanted to give Adrina a chance to recover from her ordeal, and partly because she wanted to get out of the water and back on dry land where she felt she had some control over things. Damin had built a small fire and dried out their clothes and had gone in search of fresh water.
R’shiel healed Adrina’s split lip with a touch and watched the bruise on her jaw fade before placing her hand on Adrina’s stomach. She could feel the life there, strong and resilient.
“Can you tell if it’s a boy or a girl?” Adrina asked hopefully.
“I’m the demon child, Adrina, not a prophet.”
“With my luck it will be a girl.”
R’shiel looked at her curiously, as she let go of her power. “What’s so bad about that?”
“You have to be born Fardohnyan to understand.”
“Your child will be the heir to Hythria, Adrina. They don’t suffer the same prejudice against women.”
“Maybe not, but it irks me to think I was never worthy of my father’s throne, simply because I had the misfortune to be born a girl.”
“Is that why you’re so annoyed that the throne will fall to Damin?”
She smiled wanly. “No. That just annoys me on principle.”
“He was ready to go to war over you, Adrina. In fact, he may still have to.”
Adrina sighed forlornly. “I didn’t really think he’d come for me, you know. Or if he did, he’d come charging over Cyrus’ borders like some avenging god and play right into his enemies’ hands. I suppose I have you to thank for the fact that he didn’t.”
R’shiel sat back on her heels, but she didn’t confirm or deny Adrina’s suspicions.
“You told him about the baby, didn’t you? That explains why he came for me.”
“He already knew about it, Adrina. And I don’t think it made the slightest bit of difference. Damin would have come for you, no matter what.”
The princess shook her head, as if she didn’t believe it was possible. R’shiel felt like slapping her.
“There’s a spring not far from here,” Damin called, striding across the white sand towards them. “I’m afraid I’ve nothing to carry the water in, though.”
R’shiel glared at him. “Use Adrina’s head. It’s hollow enough!”
Damin stared at her in shock. “
What
?”
Adrina climbed to her feet, brushing the sand from her tattered skirts. “R’shiel is angry with me. And you too, I think. That’s just her way of expressing it.”
“What did I do?” Damin asked, full of wounded innocence. R’shiel felt like screaming.
“Nothing!” she snapped. “Nothing at all! That’s the whole point.”
“Look, if I did something to make you angry, don’t take it out on Adrina.”
“I don’t need you to stand up for me, Damin Wolfblade,” Adrina interjected. “I can take care of myself, thank you.”
“Why shouldn’t I take it out on Adrina?” R’shiel asked, ignoring the princess as if she wasn’t there. “It’s not as if
you
care.”
“What are you talking about? You know damned well I care what happens to her! What’s the matter with you?”
“Since when did you give a damn about me?” Adrina demanded, turning on Damin.
“Since when did you give a damn about
me
?” Damin retorted, forgetting R’shiel momentarily.
“How can you say that?” Adrina cried angrily. “I’ve done everything you asked of me and more!”
“What have you ever done besides flaunt your royal superiority?”
“What have
you
ever done for
me
? You held me prisoner! You accused me of trying to murder your uncle. You kept me collared like a slave just for the sheer hell of it! And then you took advantage of me!”
R’shiel knew of Adrina’s impressive temper, but it was the first time she had seen it in full flight since the morning Cratyn had tried to kill her. She stepped back from the couple with a faint smile and sat down on the cool white sand to watch the show. They had forgotten she existed.
“
I
took advantage of
you
?” Damin gasped in disbelief. “You devious little bitch. You came over the border dressed as a
court’esa
and spent the whole time acting like one! Ask Tarja if you don’t believe me. You were all over him like a wet blanket any time he got within five paces of you.”
R’shiel hadn’t known about that, but she found herself more amused than jealous at the idea.
Poor Tarja. Fancy having to fight off Adrina when she was determined to seduce him.
“At least he treated me like a princess! You treated me like a
court’esa
! You kept me collared and bound as if I was bought and paid for.”
“Oh, I’ve paid for you, Adrina,” Damin said with feeling.
“You think so? I’ve suffered the insults of your wretched mother. I’ve entertained your brutish Warlords. I’ve been kidnapped and beaten and locked in a dungeon. Even my slave was killed because of your damned throne. I’ve given up my whole life for you, you ungrateful bastard!”
“You manage to act in a civilised manner at a few dinner parties and that’s supposed to justify the fact that I’m facing a damned civil war because of you?”
“I didn’t cause your measly little war! The miracle is that you haven’t gone and gotten yourself killed before now!”
“Well, maybe you’ll get lucky again, Adrina, and I will be killed. Then you can go and find some other poor unsuspecting sod to marry you and give you a crown.”
The crack as Adrina slapped Damin’s face echoed along the deserted beach with startling clarity. The
argument stopped abruptly as Damin stared at her in shock. Even Adrina looked stunned that she had hit him.
For a long moment they stared at each other, not saying a word
“I’m sorry,” the princess said finally, drawing herself up with regal poise. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
Damin hesitated for a moment then shrugged, rubbing the handprint that stood out against his tan in the twilight. “No. You don’t owe me an apology, Adrina. I shouldn’t have said what I did.”
“I still shouldn’t have hit you,” she insisted.
“It could have been worse,” Damin replied, with a hint of a grin. “You might have been armed.”
Adrina’s eyes blazed dangerously for a few seconds, then she took a deep breath, visibly bringing her anger under control. “You’re lucky I wasn’t,” she agreed. Then, with a tentative smile, she added, “I really don’t want to be a widow again so soon.”
“No?”
“No.”
They said nothing for a time, the silence loaded with unspoken tension. R’shiel waited expectantly, then rolled her eyes. “Oh, for Founders’ sake!”
They both turned to stare at her in horror.
“Do you mind?” Adrina asked, quite put out that she had witnessed their altercation. “This is private.”
“Actually, they could probably hear you back in Greenharbour. But don’t let me interrupt you. You appear to be enjoying yourselves immensely.”
“R’shiel, do you think you could maybe…go away for a while?” Damin asked, a little more cautiously.
“Are you going to stop shouting at each other? I might as well stay here if I can still hear you anywhere in a five-league radius.”
Adrina looked at Damin searchingly then turned to R’shiel. “I think I’ve done all the shouting I need to for the time being. Would you mind, R’shiel? I think we have a few things to sort out.”
“That’s something of an understatement,” she agreed.
“Why don’t we go and find that spring?” Damin suggested. “I could do with something to drink.”
“You go on ahead,” R’shiel told them. “I’ll see you later.”
Damin offered Adrina his hand and she took it willingly. With barely a backward glance they walked away, hand in hand.
“They make such a nice couple, don’t they?”
R’shiel jumped at the unexpected voice and turned to find Kalianah sitting on the sand beside her.
“I wish you wouldn’t just appear like that! Can’t you warn me first?”
“What would you prefer? A fanfare?” The Goddess of Love was in her favourite form: a little girl. The slight breeze stirred her fair hair and she was smiling wistfully as she watched Damin and Adrina walk along the shoreline.
“Did you have anything to do with that?” R’shiel asked suspiciously.
“Much as I would like to have interfered, demon child, Damin Wolfblade belongs to Zegarnald. He takes a very dim view of other gods meddling with his followers. They did that all on their own. I’m afraid I can’t claim any credit at all.”
Her words reminded R’shiel of something that she had forgotten until now. “Kali, have you seen Dace lately?”
“No. He’s sulking, I think.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Why do you ask? You’re not thinking of becoming one of his followers, are you?”
R’shiel laughed at the mere suggestion that she would ever worship any of the creatures the Harshini called gods. “Hardly. It’s just something Damin mentioned a while back. He wanted to know if anyone had been stealing his followers.”
“With Dacendaran, it’s usually the other way around,” Kalianah chuckled. “I can ask him if you like. Is it important?”
“I don’t really know. Who would want to steal his people anyway?”
“All of us,” the goddess told her. “It’s sort of a game, really. Particularly for gods like Dacendaran and Zegarnald.”
“What do you mean?”
Kalianah looked surprised that she had to explain it. “Life can’t exist without love, which is why the others tolerate me more than most. But you can be human and not be a thief or a warrior. So gods like Dace and Zeggi have to work a bit harder to keep their people.”
“What would happen if nobody believed in the gods any more?”
“I don’t know. I guess we’d fade away into the background. You can’t kill a Primal God. To kill me, you would have to stop love. While ever there’s a fox trying to steal eggs from a nest, or two rams
willing to fight over a ewe, Dacendaran and Zegarnald will survive. But the Incidental Gods need humans. They need someone to acknowledge their existence, or they cease to exist.”
“So all I have to do to defeat Xaphista is make a few million Kariens deny his existence?”
“Basically,” Kalianah agreed. “How are you going to do that?”
“I have no idea,” the demon child admitted with a shrug.
Once Damin and Adrina were out of sight, Kalianah lost interest in them and vanished without warning. With an impatient sigh, R’shiel scrambled up the sandy bank behind her and made her way through the trees, following her instincts rather than any set path. The night was bright, but even without the moonlight she would have found what she was looking for. Before long she came to a large clearing where Dranymire and the demon-meld rested, still in dragon form. He opened his eyes at her approach and studied her quizzically.
“You said you would call for me.”
“Things got a bit out of hand. I had to call on Kaelarn.”
The dragon shook its massive head. “That is beginning to develop into a dangerous habit, Your Highness.”
“Don’t worry, after being dragged through the ocean on the back of a water dragon, I’ll think twice before I call on the gods again,” she assured him.
“Your mission was successful, then?”
“Very. Now I need your help again.”
“I live to serve, Your Highness.”
R’shiel frowned at the dragon, certain he was mocking her.
“Can you get a message back to Greenharbour? To Kalan?”
“The High Arrion? Not directly. But we can speak to Glenanaran, and he can pass on your message.”
“Tell her where Damin and Adrina are. Ask her to send a carriage. Preferably one that’s closed, so that they can return to the city without being seen.”
“And you?”
“I don’t think the answers I need are here in Hythria, so I want to get back to Medalon, and the only way I can do that is make sure Damin’s throne is secure. I’m going to find the elusive Tejay Lionsclaw.”
The dragon closed its enormous eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “Your message is being delivered as we speak, Your Highness. If you would like to climb on, we can be on our way.”
“How can you have sent the message already?”
“Not all the té Ortyn demons are part of the dragon meld. I have sent Polanymire to Greenharbour on my behalf. Did you expect me to deliver your message personally?”
“No, it’s just…I thought…”
“You thought what?”
“Nothing…I just haven’t worked out this demon-meld thing yet, I think. Do you suppose Brak has had any luck with Hablet in Fardohnya?”
“The demons say not.”
“Damn,” she muttered impatiently. “This is what I get for thinking everything was starting to go according to plan.”
“You actually
have
a plan then?” the dragon asked.
He was definitely mocking her now. “As a matter of fact, I do. But first I need Damin confirmed as High Prince. And I need to make sure Hythria is allied with Fardohnya. After we’ve tracked down the Warlord of Sunrise Province, I suppose we’ll have to go to Fardohnya. Anyway, I’ve a feeling I’ll need Brak’s help once I get to the Citadel.”
“Then that is what we shall do.”
“But what about Damin and Adrina?”
“Staying with them now will serve no purpose if they do not get the aid they need, Your Highness.”
She nodded, aware that he was right, but feeling a little guilty for abandoning them, nonetheless.
“Can you send a demon to check on them? To see if they’re all right?”
“They are in no danger here. But I suppose we can ascertain that they haven’t killed each other.”
“That’s very big of you, Dranymire.”
The demon did not appreciate her tone. “I could just as easily
not
send one of the brethren to check on them, demon child.”
“I’m sorry.”
“As you should be. Now, unless you plan to spend the night in this insect-infested swamp, I suggest you climb aboard and we shall find your lost Warlord.”
With some misgiving, R’shiel pulled herself up and settled herself between the dragon’s massive wings. As Dranymire and the meld lifted into the sky, she wondered if she should have told Damin and Adrina that she was leaving. She decided it wouldn’t matter. Help was on the way, and Dranymire’s demon would keep an eye on them until it arrived.
Besides, they probably wouldn’t even notice she was missing.
She found Tejay Lionsclaw just on dawn. From her vantage on the dragon’s back, R’shiel could make out the dying fires of her campsite. Her column was camped for the night on a plain some thirty leagues from Greenharbour. Dranymire saw them and swooped downward so swiftly that R’shiel almost lost her seat.
The dragon landed in the middle of the camp, scattering cook fires and startled Raiders with equal contempt. Tejay Lionsclaw emerged from her tent, clutching a sword that R’shiel doubted she could even lift. Tall and well muscled, with thick blonde hair, the Warlord of Sunrise Province was a handsome woman. Behind her emerged a boy of about fifteen, clutching the hand of an even younger girl, who was rubbing her eyes sleepily.
“Who are you?” Tejay demanded belligerently.
“I am R’shiel té Ortyn. I am the demon child.”
Tejay studied her for a moment then held up her hand to halt the suddenly nervous troops who were advancing on them.
“The demon child? That’s a legend we tell to frighten children.”
“It works pretty well on grown men, too,” R’shiel noted, glancing around at the men who were staring with undisguised terror at the dragon.
Tejay planted the sword on the ground in front of her and stared at R’shiel for a moment before glancing up at the dragon. “I suppose I must believe you, considering you arrived on the back of a dragon.”
“I thought it might save a lot of explanations.”
“Then you are sadly mistaken, demon child. Nobody lands in my camp in such a fashion without providing an explanation.”
“I come on behalf of Damin Wolfblade. Cyrus Eaglespike has laid claim to the High Prince’s throne.”
“That doesn’t surprise me, somehow. I’ve had a great deal of correspondence from him lately.” Suddenly the Warlord smiled and sheathed her sword. “I’ve so many of his damned pigeons in my roosts that I was tempted to throw them into the cooking pot. Come, let’s talk inside.”
She led the way to her tent, where the boy and girl stood wide-eyed at the entrance, staring at R’shiel’s dragon. Dranymire was quite enjoying the effect he was having, R’shiel decided, although she wasn’t sure if his smug expression was real, or if she was simply imagining it.
“Divine One, this is my son Valorian and his wife Bayla.”
R’shiel thought the pair too young to be out alone at night, let alone married. She looked at Bayla curiously, but could see nothing of her father, Cyrus Eaglespike, in her. The youngsters bowed hastily as she passed them, following Tejay into the tent.
“Can I offer you refreshment, Divine One?” the Warlord asked, indicating with a wave of her arm that R’shiel should sit. She sank down onto the scattered silk cushions gratefully, her thighs still quivering from riding the dragon.
“Thank you. And you don’t have to call me Divine One, my Lady. My name is R’shiel.”
“Very well, R’shiel. You may call me Tejay. Bayla!”
Her daughter-in-law’s face appeared meekly through the embroidered hangings on the tent. “My Lady?”
“Make yourself useful for once and fetch us some breakfast.” When Bayla disappeared behind the curtain, Tejay sat down opposite R’shiel with a sigh. “If there is one thing I cannot abide, it is simpering females. And that girl has it down to a fine art.”
“Then why did you let her marry your son?”
“Because she came with a dowry that not even I could ignore. In hindsight, I suppose it had more to do with Cyrus Eaglespike’s plans for the throne, than any great love for his daughter.”
“He expects you to support him.”
“Then he has badly misjudged me. I am not so easily bought. I owe Damin Wolfblade for my province and for saving me from the necessity of marrying a man I didn’t love. That means more to me than a large dowry and an insipid daughter-in-law.”
R’shiel smiled. Perhaps things
were
still going according to plan.
“Does Cyrus know how you feel?”
“I’m not given to artfulness, R’shiel. I have made no secret of where my loyalties lie.”
“Then you need to be aware of what has happened over the past few days. Cyrus used your name to lure Damin out of Greenharbour, then kidnapped his wife.”
“The Fardohnyan?”
“Princess Adrina.”
“It was unwise of him to take a Fardohnyan wife,” the Warlord said with a frown. “It gave me pause for a time. In fact it came close to costing Damin my loyalty. Fardohnyans killed my husband and I cannot count the people I have lost to them since.”
“His marriage to Adrina will bring peace.”
“Then the peace had better be accompanied by substantial reparation,” Tejay warned. “So, where do things stand now? Is Damin preparing to attack Cyrus?”
“No. We managed to retrieve his wife by…other means. They’ll be back in Greenharbour by now.”
“And what of Lords Foxtalon, Bearbow and Falconlance? I’ve no doubt Narvell Hawksword stands with his half-brother.”
“Rogan Bearbow is on Damin’s side. Foxtalon and Falconlance are still allied with Cyrus.”
“Then with my vote, Damin has a majority. Foxtalon will change sides as soon as he realises he’s backed a loser, but Eaglespike and Falconlance will not give up so easily. And they have the advantage. Their provinces make up most of the south. We outnumber them in theory, but it will be months before we can muster an army sufficient to defeat them. Our troops are spread out all over Hythria.”
“Cyrus is already prepared for war.”
“You can bet Falconlance is too. The city of Greenharbour might be neutral territory, but it is surrounded by Greenharbour Province—and
that
is owned, lock, stock and barrel, by Conin Falconlance.”
“Then Greenharbour is likely to fall under siege?”
“You can wager on it.”
R’shiel thought for a moment, trying to think of a way to get the scattered armies of Krakandar, Sunrise, Elasapine, Izcomdar and Pentamor (assuming Tejay was right about Lord Foxtalon) mustered. With a sigh, R’shiel decided Tejay was correct in her assessment. It would take far too long.
Damn it! I don’t have time for this!
R’shiel fought back the feeling that this entire trip to Hythria had been a waste of time. She was no closer to finding a way to defeat Xaphista, and was certain now of only one thing: if the solution she sought wasn’t at Sanctuary, and the Sorcerers’ Collective in Greenharbour was unable to help her, that left the Citadel. It had been the heart of Harshini power and was the only place left she could think to look for an answer. She was also sure that the Sisters of the Blade would have kept every book, every scroll, every scrap of parchment they had taken when they overran the Citadel. They might despise the Harshini and do whatever they could to obliterate all traces of their existence, but they were too methodical, too pragmatic, and far too sensible to destroy the only documents that might hold the key to the destruction of their enemies. But with Damin likely to encounter an invading force, and Fardohnya poised to attack…
R’shiel heartily wished she had kept her nose out of the whole messy situation. And she wished she had never conceived the absurd idea that Damin should marry Adrina to force the ruling Houses of Hythria and Fardohnya into a truce. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time…If she was honest with herself, she was willing to admit that her plans had as much to do with annoying the God of War as they did with her ultimate desire to defeat Xaphista. Two
nations that had been fighting each other sporadically for two centuries suddenly united would be a serious blow to Zegarnald’s mammoth ego. Perhaps she was drunk on her own power. Whatever the reason, it didn’t help her at present. Her desire to bring peace had actually caused another war.
Brak had warned her that it would. She should have listened to him. Now she had to do something to end it, preferably before it got started.
“What if you had another ally? One who could be in Greenharbour in a matter of weeks with an army that outnumbers your enemies?” suggested R’shiel.
“Who are you thinking of?”
“Fardohnya.”
Tejay laughed contemptuously. “You think Hablet would send his troops into Hythria for a reason other than conquest?”
“He would if the demon child told him to.”
“I hope your abilities match your confidence, my dear. Besides, the Fardohnyans are even further from Greenharbour than our own troops.”
“But they can sail from Talabar and be in Greenharbour faster than you can get your armies together overland.”
The Warlord nodded, but she was decidedly unhappy about the idea. And sceptical. “So, you plan to ride your dragon into Talabar and make Hablet send his troops to our rescue.”
“If necessary.”
“I will believe it when I see it.”
They were interrupted by Bayla, who backed into the tent carrying a platter of bread and freshly roasted meat. R’shiel realised how hungry she was as
the smell reached her. She had not eaten since before she spoke to Korandellan, and that had been two days ago. Bayla placed the tray on the small table in front of them and managed to bow half a dozen times on the way out. Tejay watched her leave with a look of exasperation.
“The gods alone know what it will take to get some spirit into that girl.”
“She’s very young.”
“Which is a blessing. Valorian is quite smitten with her helplessness at present, but it won’t last. The novelty will wear off soon enough and then they’ll both be unhappy.”
“If it’s strong women you admire, Tejay, then you and the Princess Adrina should become fast friends.”
“Me? Befriend a Fardohnyan? I find that prospect even more unlikely than the idea that Hablet would help us for a reason other than territorial gain.”
“You might be surprised, Tejay.”
The Warlord helped herself to a shank of meat and smiled at R’shiel. “My dear, if I find myself friends with a Fardohnyan princess, and one of Hablet’s brood at that, ‘surprised’ won’t even begin to describe it.”