4. Spoils Of War
SPOILS OF WAR
T here was a wild whoosh of air that flattened Caden’s hair and nearly sent the toast flying. A huge Green Dragon’s head was suddenly level with the balcony. Green smoke billowed around its jaws. Caden’s lungs tightened and he knocked over his chair, striving to get away from the noxious fumes. Esme continued to sit at the table, sipping her tea, and staring straight ahead as if Illarion had not just gassed their breakfast.
Holding his throat and drawing in wheezing gasps, Caden was almost flattened by another burst of powerful wind as Illarion rose up in the air so that his clawed toes were hanging two dozen feet above them. Then Illarion transformed and he gracefully dropped to the balcony into what Caden thought of as a “superhero pose”.
Caden was still hacking up a lung as Illarion got to his feet and grinned at Esme. He didn’t spare one look at Caden, but Caden’s heart was in his throat… as well as poison gas. But, evidently, being a Shifter meant he wouldn’t be killed by it. But, as he leaned over and hacked some more, he thought he might drop a lung or two on the ground.
Iolaire covered its nose with its front claws and closed its eyes tightly. That was when Caden realized his eyes were stinging as if acid was flung in them. He let out a cry and dug his palms into his eyes. Finally, when the stinging eased, he drew his hands off his eyes and stared blearily at Illarion.
Totally nude and completely unashamed of it, Illarion strutted over to the seat that had been Caden’s, righted the chair, and sat down in it. Still grinning, Illarion ate Caden’s bacon, which just added insult to injury.
“Esme! What a glorious morning!” Illarion inhaled another piece of his bacon.
Esme continued to sip tea even as the green poisonous mist swirled around her before disappearing altogether. It was only then that Caden realized that Illarion was here with him. The Green Dragon King would realize at any second who Caden must be! Panic had him taking a step backwards. Could he somehow retreat before Illarion noticed him?
Illarion’s hand shot out with the unused coffee cup that had been set out but Caden had not used it. He was not a coffee person. He thought of it as water gone wrong. He froze at Illarion’s movement and was prepared for the Green Dragon King to crow at finding the elusive Iolaire!
Illarion waggled the coffee cup at him. “Fill this.” He didn’t even look at Caden as he moved the cup towards him. “Must I repeat myself? Fill this.”
He doesn’t know who I am. He thinks I’m a servant or something!
Caden tried not to feel offended. This was a good thing after all! Yet it just proved all the more that Illarion did not care about Iolaire.
Caden met Esme’s eyes. She nodded her head almost imperceptibly. He trusted her judgment so he took Illarion’s cup and went over to the buffet where there was a silver coffee urn.
“Two sugars and a splash--just a splash--of cream,” Illarion ordered over his shoulder. “Your staff, Esme, is horrible. Though, I suppose, compared to dear Serai, this one must be a treasure!”
Caden gritted his teeth. But he looked over at Esme again. She gave him a meaningful look.
“My people serve me very well,” Esme murmured .
Illarion’s brow beetled. “How a person treats their guests must not be important in your territory then.”
“Guests are treated exceptionally well. You, however, are not a guest,” she remarked.
Illarion took a large bite of croissant and talking with his mouth full and gesturing around the space stated, “This is not your castle. It is Valerius’. This is his food and drink. So I am just taking my part of his largesse here rather than in my assigned space.” He glared over his shoulder. “Speaking of drink, where is my coffee?!”
“Coming,” Caden grunted.
His hand hovered over the sugar bowl, considering dumping in as much sugar as the coffee could dissolve, but then he realized the goal was not to draw attention to himself. While the plan was to reveal himself, it wasn’t to do so to Illarion. Not yet. Not without Valerius here anyways.
So he plopped two cubes of sugar into the dark brown fluid and a splash of cream that turned it a golden tan. He stirred it with a spoon that was designed to look like a seashell at the bottom. He then presented the coffee cup to Illarion who glared at it. Caden suppressed a sigh and set it down on top of the table. That gave him a clear view of how his entire plate had been devoured. His stomach rumbled and Iolaire looked mournful.
“So what brings you here to eat your breakfast? Other than showing off that Iolaire’s gift finally wore off?” Esme asked tartly.
She gave Caden another look that indicated he should stay and listen. He had been half tempted to leave, but now he saw the wisdom in staying. Illarion would speak far more openly about Iolaire not knowing that Iolaire was right there. So he retreated a few steps to the buffett and stood there as he imagined a proper servant would do. Close enough to spring into action to fill coffee or offer a scone, but far enough away to give the illusion of privacy. He wondered however if he had just watched too many episodes of Downton Abbey . Illarion though paid no more attention to him then if he had been no more interesting than the stonework.
Illarion swallowed another bite of buttery croissant before he answered her, “I come to spend time with the Blue Dragon Queen! We have not been in one another’s presence in 30-years! It is but a moment, but yet much has happened in that time, yes?”
“We had not seen each other in over a thousand years before that meeting, Illarion, and much has happened in that time too,” she answered dryly. “So why are you really here?”
Illarion gave her a wolfish smile. “Ah, Esme, your mousetrap mind is a pleasure!”
“I’m not sure it gives me pleasure to be thought to have a mousetrap mind.” Her voice was as dry as the Sahara now.
Illarion shook a fork at her with a spear of egg upon it. “You are smart. Clever. Very clever. Strategic.”
“Yes, well, all of those things are true.” Esme inclined her head, perhaps a little flattered in spite of herself. Considering that her intelligence had been a little battered by being betrayed, maybe she needed to hear that.
“Which is why I do not believe you are behind this bombing in the square.” Illarion scrapped his teeth over the fork, the yellow eggs disappearing.
Caden’s stomach growled again. He surreptitiously grabbed a mini blueberry muffin out of the basket beside him and stuck the whole thing in his mouth after peeling off the paper. He repressed an audible groan as the sweet, rich goodness of the moist muffin smooshed between his tongue and the roof of his mouth.
“Oh, interesting that you think that.” Esme shrugged and took another sip of tea. “You came here to give me moral support? Valerius does not believe I’m behind it so that is all that matters.”
“Valerius!” Illarion barked and bits of egg covered the table.
Esme’s face scrunched up with disgust, but it quickly smoothed back to nonchalance. She handed him her napkin to wipe the wet, partially masticated egg off of his lips and chin. Caden’s gorge rose a bit as Illarion negligently smeared the remnants away before tossing the napkin on the table and resuming eating.
“It is Valerius’ territory that was affected and he is our…” Esme ge stured with her right, beringed hand. The jewels on them flashed in the sunlight as she tried to find the right words.
“He’s one of us!” Illarion pounded a fist on the table, which caused the dishes to jump and rattle. “He’s not above us! He’s not our--”
“King?” She lifted an eyebrow. When he glared at her, face reddening to a tomato-like shade, she continued with an almost sigh, “Illarion, you can shake your fists and cry to the heavens, but Valerius is our leader.”
“Only because he has not been challenged!” Illarion spat egg and saliva across the table landing just inches from Esme’s lap.
Caden swallowed his muffin and his stomach rumbled again, but not with hunger this time.
“Challenged?” Esme’s sculpted eyebrows rose as a smile twitched her lipsticked mouth.
That’s total crap! Caden snarled mentally. You couldn’t defeat Raziel if it had both wings tied behind its back!
Iolaire let out a chirp of agreement.
“I am stronger! Mephous’ poison will cause Raziel to drown in its own blood!” Illarion’s whole face was suffused with an almost purple color.
“Are you going to challenge Valerius?” Esme held Illarion’s gaze steadily.
The passionate response abruptly cooled as Illarion speared another forkful of eggs and grinned at her. “Of course. We will fight over Iolaire.”
Caden’s cheeks alternately flushed then paled. He was going to be the cause of Valerius and Illarion fighting? Well, that didn’t altogether surprise him, but this sounded more serious. Illarion wanted to challenge Valerius. That could lead to war.
Esme let out a trill of laughter. “My dear Illarion, that is the most insane idea you’ve ever had and that’s saying something!”
His green eyes narrowed at her. “Do you think I can’t win?”
She shrugged. “In all honesty, no. Not that you won’t give it a brilliant go, but in the end, Valerius and Raziel will rip your wings off and use them as floss. But that was not the cause of my laughter. ”
Caden could see Illarion’s jaw working as he clearly was furious that Esme did not think him the winner in this putative battle.
“So what is causing you to laugh at me?” Illarion hissed.
“That you think Iolaire would want you even if you did, in the most unlikely of events, win.” Esme held up her teacup to Caden.
He quickly got a warming pot of tea and came over to fill her cup before retreating back to the buffett. He managed to snag a piece of bacon as he set the teapot on the trivet.
“Iolaire must go with the strongest!” Illarion scoffed as he chewed once again with his mouth open.
Esme’s eyelids fluttered shut for a moment as if the sight were just too terrible. “I do not believe it works that way.”
“Mephous has told me the rules.” Illarion leaned back and spread his naked legs. To Caden’s horror, his cock stirred as he spoke of Iolaire. “Whoever wishes to mate with Iolaire must challenge and defeat any comers. The last Dragon standing wins.”
Caden’s mouth fell open with an audible click. He almost spat the bacon onto the floor. He quickly closed his mouth and swallowed it down. He would not waste good bacon on Illarion!
“Scylla tells me otherwise,” Esme said after she sipped her tea. “Scylla tells me that while we may challenge each other to prove we are the most worthy of Iolaire, the truth is that Iolaire can choose anyone it wants to mate with.”
That’s exactly right! Iolaire and I get to choose!
Iolaire twittered softly. But Caden’s stomach lurched. He thought of the fact that he wasn’t worthy of Iolaire. He had been at the right place at the right time, but Iolaire had been looking for an excuse to join with someone--anyone--in order to be with Raziel. Iolaire and Raziel were destined to be together. Valerius and him… well, if Valerius had any idea of how unworthy Caden was… well, he would be furious and resentful. He wouldn’t want to be saddled with Caden.
No, no, I am going to be better. I am going to be worthy of him somehow.
“Bah! Absurd! Even if that is true, Iolaire will choose the strongest! It is only logical,” Illarion scoffed as he shoveled in more eggs. “The laws of nature apply to even Spirits. ”
“And what laws are those?” Esme gazed at Illarion over the top of her cup.
“The strongest make the rules!” Illarion laughed uproariously, clearly in love with his “joke”.
Caden rolled his eyes. Esme smothered a look of disgust by sipping her tea at that moment.
“But I am not here to discuss that as I know you are not in the running for Iolaire’s hand.” Illarion chewed noisily.
Esme winked at Caden. “I don’t know, Illarion, I have quite a bit to offer Iolaire.”
Illarion’s hand with the fork in it froze halfway to his mouth. He stared at her. “Such as what?”
Illarion couldn’t quite hide his disbelief. He clearly didn’t understand how a mature woman such as Esme could have anything to offer. Caden’s eyes narrowed. If he wasn’t completely in love with Valerius, she would actually be his second choice. Not for a love match, but for a mentor. Someone he would be willing to support and learn from.
She smiled thinly. “Delights of which you cannot even imagine.”
Illarion snorted, but didn’t say anything rude, which was the first point in his favor since he had shown up. “I am here to discuss this bombing business.”
Esme stiffened. “I can’t imagine why.”
“It is true that my territory is not convulsed by lawlessness and terror attacks,” Illarion said with a shrug. “I rule my people. I do not let them have the illusion that they rule themselves.”
“No, I would think that your people have no illusions about such freedom.” Esme’s smile flattened, but Illarion did not even notice.
“Yes, well, it is best that the people know where they stand. You indulge them and you get chaos.” Illarion shrugged again.
“So if your territory is so immune to such chaos since you are so clear with your people, why are you concerned about the bombing?” Esme pressed.
Now that was a good question. Caden grew alert. Was Illarion lying about not having such problems in his territory?Was this a worldwide conspiracy like Esme had said?
“Do you remember the phrase, ‘religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people?’” Illarion asked. “Or as most people summarize it: religion is the opiate of the masses?”
“Karl Marx. Why?” Esme asked.
“In the beginning, I allowed the Faith into my territory. They worshiped the Spirits and the Dragon Spirits above all, so it seemed harmless. Perhaps even useful,” Illarion said as he took a swig of his coffee.
Caden stilled. He had never considered the Faith as a mover in any of the bad things that happened in the world, but now they were seeming more and more suspicious in his eyes. Yet if he thought of the group his mother was a part of, they had always seemed harmless if slightly silly. The dressing in white and singing--God, that song about him and Iolaire!--was so disarming. Could they possibly be behind a worldwide conspiracy to… to do what? Create disasters so that more Spirits emerged into the world?
For one moment that caused him to pause. He had looked up what Iolaire’s name was associated with after Wally’s reaction to it. It was the name of a yacht that had sunk in 1919 with great loss of life. The yacht had struck rocks just yards from shore and yet 201 out of the 283 people on board had died. It was a disaster. The crowning sorrow of a war. A beautiful yet strange name to choose. Unless it had other meanings.
He looked at Iolaire. The White Dragon Spirit was once again snoozing. Illarion bored it completely. He supposed that it was good that Iolaire was not scared of the Green Dragon. Then again they could will Illarion back to human form at any time they wanted. Well, he hoped that was true. Maybe it had only worked so well because Illarion had not expected him to be able to do that. Maybe now it wouldn’t work since he was aware of the possibility or it would be a lot harder to do it .
Esme put her teacup down on its saucer. “Has the Faith done anything in your territory, Illarion?”
“Of course not! I would stamp out any such--such perfidy!”
“And yet, you’re bringing it up,” Esme pointed out.
Illarion leaned back and shrugged. “There might have been some… small unrest. People claimed that the Spirits wanted to come in, but the Veil had to be pierced.”
“Veil had to be pierced?” Esme lowered her head and stared at Illarion hard.
“Do you not know what they believe?” Illarion looked disbelieving.
Caden knew what he was talking about. His mom had babbled often enough about it that he had absorbed most of the Faith’s beliefs. One of which was that there was a Veil between this world and the world that the Spirits inhabited. Crises, disasters, tragedies, great acts of heroism or villainy pierced the Veil and allowed the Spirits to come through.
The Faith tracked down as many joinings as they could in order to determine if there were patterns. What they found was that there were more joinings in times of war, starvation, the horrors of slavery, murder and so on and so forth. Tragedies caused clusters of joinings.
But I never thought that the Faith would take that conclusion and try to create more disasters!
“They believe that the Spirits are crying out! They want to find human bodies to inhabit in order to uplift this world!” Illarion let out a bark of laughter. “I suppose it is true, but not in the way that these religious people believe.”
“No, I imagine not. Your idea of paradise is not theirs,” Esme said tightly.
“Do not act like you want to live in their crazy world!” Illarion waved a hand through the air as if he would topple over a line of crazed cultists.
“No, I do not.” She nodded.
“I stamp out one flare of their insanity, only to have it flare in another place and then another and another! No matter what I do--no matter how hard I crack down--they keep coming back!” Illarion slammed his hand against the table again and the cutlery danced.
“The harder you come down on them--the more martyrs you make--you’ll only increase the amount of people against you,” Esme said sadly. “You cannot use force to end this.”
“And what would you have me do? Speak nicely to them? Give them gifts? Accede the demands?” Illarion snorted. “Well, perhaps I will accede to some of them.”
“What are their demands?” Esme asked.
Caden wondered that, too. Since the bombing there had been no one claiming credit for it. And that didn’t make a lot of sense. Acts of terror were to create, well, terror. Do this or we will kill more! But no one had said anything about what needed to happen to stop the violence.
Illarion gave her a razor-blade smile. “They want a war. A war to end all wars.”