The Dragon of Despair (88 page)

“I can’t,” she said, leaning her head against his flank as they sat under one of the trees in Hasamemorri’s yard. She was aware that she was dangerously close to drowsing off and struggled against it. “They wouldn’t understand.”

Blind Seer turned and nipped her arm.

“The proverb says, ‘Hunt when hungry, sleep when not, for hunger always returns.’ Isn’t that a way of saying that sleep is as important as food? You never hesitate to grab whatever you want from the table, to whine when you are empty. Why hesitate to ask for help with filling this hunger?”

Firekeeper’s head was so heavy that the wolf’s words almost made sense.

“But how can I explain that I hunger for sleep but fear it as well? They will mock me as a fool.”

“I don’t think they will,” Blind Seer said, “but even if they did, wouldn’t mockery be a small price to pay to regain your strength? Aren’t you being unfair to them? They believe that when the hunt is called you will lead. Any wolf pack would tear you to shreds at the scent of such deception, but these two-legs are too gentle. They will be the ones torn to shreds in exchange for their trust.”

Firekeeper didn’t like that thought at all—and she knew that no matter how Elise or Derian directed things, when a fight was expected they did count on her. Guilt for abandoning Edlin and Peace still weighed heavily upon her, no matter how many times she was assured she had done the right thing in leaving.

“I will speak to Doc,” Firekeeper said at last, “in a bit. The sun feels so good and your fur is so soft.”

And Blind Seer, wise enough to sense her drifting off, said nothing, only moved himself as her weight grew heavy against his shoulder, lowering so she slept collapsed against him, his body curled strong and protective around her.

ROCK, BROKEN ALONG JAGGED ANGLES
, not by hammer or fist, but by the shattering absence of heat. Heat still rising, though only from pockets now. A rock face hot enough to raise blisters, springs that steam and reek of dissolving minerals.

The comet’s voice speaks from a glittering vein coiled through the matte-black stone.

“Motion is not freedom, though it is often mistaken for such. Do you understand?”

Firekeeper, uncertain where she is or even if she is embodied in this place, tries to shape an answer: “You can choose stillness?”

“That is one way of seeing it, I suppose. I was thinking of those who go about their days bounded by invisible walls.”

“Like slaves?” Firekeeper is still trying to understand this concept. She thinks the comet might help.

“The walls that bind slaves are often very physical indeed,” the comet hisses. “I was thinking of those walls by which you bind yourself, wolfling.”

“I am not bound!” Firekeeper replies indignantly.

“Are you not? Duty, obligation, custom. All of these bind you as strongly as any chain or prison wall. They master you, yet you call yourself free.”

Firekeeper refuses to reply.

A rippling flow that might have been laughter—but might not—courses along the glittering vein in the rock.

“I am bound,” the comet voice says, “but I would not harm the one who bound me, rather the one who freed me. It is all a matter of perception. There are things that bind one that make one free; there are things that free only to further bind.”

Firekeeper considers her own refusal to tell Doc about her dreams, about how her apparent freedom to keep her secret has bound her more firmly to these unsettling dreams.

“Why do you keep bothering me?” Firekeeper asks, her anger lighting the dark rock walls though she still cannot tell where she stands.

“I have told you before,” the comet hisses. “You can hear me. What good would shouting to deaf ears do?”

“I only hear you when I am asleep,” Firekeeper replies, confident of at least this freedom.

“Are you so certain?” the comet asks.

HAD MELINA REALIZED
the argument and uproar that Xarxius’s arrest would generate, she would either have let him continue with whatever he was about and made certain that Kiero caught him doing something truly damning or she would have arranged for the Dragon’s Claw to be called away on urgent business—and meet with a bit of bandit trouble along the way.

Now Melina was faced with sitting through a long hearing in front of the Primes, a hearing meant to answer the question of what degree of treasonous act—if any—Xarxius was guilty of committing and, when that was ascertained, assigning the appropriate punishment.

The hearing had superseded all normal business. Moreover, as one of the accusers—Toriovico was the other—Melina was required to sit off to one side and make herself available for questioning at any time.

The honest truth was, Melina admitted to herself, she had not adjusted to the fact that the Healed One was not a true king—not as she had grown to adulthood understanding the term—nor was his Consolor a real queen.

King Tedric’s nobles might present their differences of opinion to him, they might question his judgment, they might even make their unhappiness with his policies known to him by being grudging with some tithe or duty they owed the throne. However, when the king pronounced a decision, that decision became law.

Queen Elexa did not hold the same power, but when she acted as regent for her husband her decisions were also binding as law, law that could be appealed upon King Tedric’s return to court, but law nonetheless.

Fleetingly, Melina wondered how such matters would be dealt with in Hawk Haven when King Tedric died, and Sapphire and Shad took the throne. Theoretically, the new king and queen were to hold equivalent power and authority. That would work nicely when the couple agreed on a point, but what if they disagreed? As Melina herself was learning through wearisome experience, having more than one person holding equivalent authority was a recipe for chaos.

In her naive misunderstanding of New Kelvinese government, Melina had thought that if Apheros used apparent treason as justification for renouncing his Claw this would be sufficient to get rid of Xarxius, ruin the man’s reputation, and maybe even get him executed.

Indeed, by law and custom, the Dragon Speaker was permitted to replace any of his Three without offering any reason other than that this was his desire. In reality, some excuse should be offered lest the friends and supporters of the demoted Prime take exception—exception that could, in extreme cases, bring the Speaker’s government to face a vote of no confidence.

Melina had thought that having the Healed One and his Consolor bring the accusation would make the matter final, for surely no one would question either their word or their authority.

In reality, her and Toriovico’s involvement and the entire question of treason had complicated a matter that should have been simple. Treason was a serious matter under the New Kelvin legal code, carrying with it a sentence of death, a death that was administered in various increasingly ugly ways depending on the severity of the treasonous acts.

Mere conspiracy, such as that with which Xarxius was charged, carried with it a fairly painless death—beheading or suffocation accompanied by the administration of soporific drugs. Violent actions against the kingdom or leading an invading force, both of which Grateful Peace stood accused of committing, carried with them the penalty of death by slow torture.

At least,
Melina thought, a trace of whimsy touching her lips,
I got that part right.

Melina quickly schooled her expression to seriousness when she saw several of the Primes frown at her. When she thought of the ramifications of what she had unwittingly done, it was easy for her to be serious.

One of the rumors flying through Thendulla Lypella was that the Progressives were planning to use Xarxius’s disgrace—following as closely as it did on the heels of that of Grateful Peace—to challenge Apheros’s government. Even if the Progressives could not win the Speaker’s chair, rumor said that certain of Apheros’s supporters were likely to ask him to step down in favor of another Dragon Speaker, his image and reputation having been irreparably tarnished.

Listening to the arguments and counterarguments on the floor, Melina thought how little any of them had to do with Xarxius’s apparent treason. The real issue concerning the Primes was whether Apheros’s long hold on the Speaker’s chair had been broken at last—and who would sit in it after him. Xarxius’s guilt and innocence would be decided on that basis and no other.

Melina looked at where Xarxius sat, his face scrubbed clean of all but his tattoos as a sign of his disgrace, and thought that he knew this as well, but he, like she and Toriovico, was not permitted to speak except in response to a direct question.

The worst of this was that Melina could no longer participate in her own important and essential explorations. True, the hearings did not extend beyond normal business hours, but afterward both she and Toriovico were constantly being requested to attend meetings and strategy sessions.

Apheros was now as eager to save his Claw as he had been to dismiss him, for he saw this as the only way to redeem his own honor. However, the charges made against Xarxius could not merely be dropped, for dropping the charges would not save Apheros’s reputation. The Dragon Speaker must find a way to twist the accusations that he himself had brought in order to make them seem innocuous.

This was a task for which Apheros needed every ounce of his conniving mind and Melina had to struggle to keep him under her control without damping his abilities. It was a challenge like none she had ever faced and she was not yet certain she could handle it successfully.

Fortunately, Melina’s control over Toriovico was based on assuaging his loneliness and isolation, not on making him feel that his political standing was unchallengeable. A few foot rubs and a bit of passionate sexual attention were all she needed to keep her husband neatly curled within her control.

Idalia was another ally Melina didn’t need to worry about. The more responsibility with which she entrusted the other woman, the more excuse she gave Idalia for tormenting Grateful Peace—anything but gross injury or death had been agreed upon as acceptable—so Idalia labored to serve Melina’s wishes.

And Melina needed Idalia’s labors more than ever now that her own movements were so restricted. With Apheros’s government unraveling with every word spoken at Xarxius’s hearing, Melina needed the power represented by the entrapped dragon more than ever. If she had read the old texts aright, time was ripening toward when the dragon could be freed, but, as Melina was all too aware, time was also running out.

By the time Melina was offered an opportunity to work her will upon the beast, even a dragon’s power might not be enough to save her.

AMBASSADOR REDBRIAR SENT A NOTE
midmorning of the third day following Nstasius’s nighttime visit. Elise hardly waited to retire to the privacy of the now unused consulting room before tearing the missive open.

“I thought you might be interested in knowing,”
wrote the ambassador, her wording, as they had agreed, making no mention of the fact that they had been given prior warning of these developments,
“that the Dragon’s Claw, Xarxius, with whom you met here at the embassy in order to discuss various trade proposals, has been taken in arrest on charges of treason subsequent to his meeting with you. Apparently, the Healed One and his Consolor took exception to some of the matters discussed, viewing them as contrary to New Kelvinese law and custom.

“My understanding is that although Xarxius was arrested several days ago, his hearing was postponed in order that evidence might be organized and an emergency council of the Primes convened. As of this writing, it does not seem as if you or any of your company will be summoned to testify, the crime being viewed as wholly that of the Dragon’s Claw.

“Xarxius’s hearing is already under way, but I do not believe that the matter will be resolved easily. I shall inform you of the outcome as soon as I myself am informed, and then you may act in order to advance your trade plans.”