Chapter 3 #3
Aric shook his head but nevertheless left.
Fake Damon bowed, then blew me a mocking kiss and sauntered out.
It was all I could do not to chase flame after his arrogant ass.
Once the door had closed behind them, I walked over and locked it.
While I trusted the guards stationed outside, I had no idea what Makki’s skill set was aside from being a general, and there was definitely something about him that prickled my instincts.
A bolted door might be nothing more than an illusion of safety, but I nevertheless did feel better for it.
I rested my forehead against the wood for several seconds, trying to calm the turbulent fires that raced through me—fires born of not only anger, but also desperate loneliness and more than a pinch of futility.
I couldn’t help but wonder if the fight for Esan was one I could ever win.
I sighed, pushed away from the door, and walked across to the dome of magic that still burned so brightly for me, and yet clearly no one else could see or feel—though I dared say the Prioress was aware of its presence.
“Where are you, Damon?” I whispered softly. “Wherever it is, please, hurry back. I need you here.”
Not to advise me, not even to confront his parent, but to simply hold me when I needed it, and to stand beside me when I didn’t.
Was that too much to ask of man or gods?
Maybe.
Maybe this dome of magic was all I would ever again see of my Damon. Perhaps, on rescuing his mother and siblings, he would decide that coming back here was more trouble than it was worth.
He might have claimed I was his light in a world filled with darkness, but did that really mean anything? Was it ever anything more than just pretty words lacking substance?
I didn’t believe that was true, but the reality of our situation was that we remained strangers who barely knew each other in any way beyond the physical.
I walked into the bathroom and ran a bath.
After grabbing a scented soapweed and tossing it into the water, I stripped off my sword, knife, bow, and quiver, hanging them on their respective hooks before returning to the table and making myself several thick cheese and meat sandwiches.
I might not be overly hungry, but the last thing I wanted was to collapse with exhaustion and hunger, thereby giving Aric and his wretched son a perfect excuse to take over.
After pouring another shamoke, I carried the lot over to the platform next to the bath, then stripped off and climbed in.
Soaking the weariness away in a tub of steaming scented water was always sheer bliss after a long, tiring day of riding—be it on courser back or drakkon—and for a good twenty minutes or so, I did nothing more than eat, drink, and relax.
Once the water started to cool, I undid my plait and scrubbed the sweat and grime out of my hair, then did the same for my body.
I climbed out, toweled off, then padded naked across to the bed platform and climbed under the blankets.
I didn’t immediately fall asleep, but even when I did, death and danger stalked my dreams, accompanied by a deep sense of inadequacy and an even deeper feeling that I wasn’t ready for what was coming.
No one was.
To say I woke feeling less than refreshed would be an understatement.
I sighed, walked across to the scribe pen to order breakfast, then unbolted the door and moved into my dressing room, once again donning what was becoming standard drakkon-riding gear—leather pants, silk undershirt, thick woolen shirt, and long boots.
I grabbed a coat and the harness, but didn’t put either on, quickly consuming my breakfast once it had arrived before gathering the rest of my gear and moving out.
Lenny wasn’t at the door yet but his evening counterpart—Janis—was.
“Did Lenny pass on my orders regarding entry into my suite?”
“Yes, he did, Queen Bryn.”
“Has there been any untoward movement?”
“Nary a peep from anyone.” Her gravelly tones were soft but nevertheless carried slightly in the hush that filled the yet-to-waken palace.
“King Aric and Prince Damon?”
“Had meals sent in half an hour ago, but I’ve not seen any sign of themselves.”
“And General Makki?”
“Was here until midnight, just leaning against the stone a few yards up the corridor there, watching all that was happening, then, from what I heard, he was given a room in the servants’ quarters.”
That raised my eyebrows; as a general he should have been given accommodation in either the military section or, if Aric wished him closer, in the advisors’ section here in the palace.
I didn’t say anything to Janis though, as she wasn’t likely to know the reason behind the decision, simply thanked her, then headed down the stairs.
Both Jarin and Neera turned and saluted as I entered the war room.
“Is it not a little early for you to be taking over the shift, Commander Jarin?” I said lightly. “Or has yet another problem arisen?”
“King Aric and the prince informed me half an hour ago that they wish a dawn tour of the military and armaments sections,” Jarin replied. “They also want to speak to all commanding officers.”
Meaning it was just as well I’d sent his enforcer away. I dared say he’d been hoping for a very different result than what he’d now get without her help.
“Informed you ?” I motioned toward Neera. She was whip thin and tall, and a master of the sword and strategy—the latter being the main reason I’d promoted her over the other candidates Jarin had put forward for night general. “Why did they not ask you?”
“Because I’m a woman?” Neera’s voice was dry. “I bet it busts his bones that he can’t sweep in and take the throne from you.”
Oh, he’s trying , I wanted to say, but restrained the urge. “Allow the tour, but there is to be no meeting of any other kind until I arrive back, is that clear?”
Both nodded. Jarin added, “They have also requested that General Makki be allowed to observe here in the war room.”
“No doubt so they can inform us of every little thing we’re doing wrong,” I replied dryly.
“Zephrine’s king never had a high opinion of your father’s leadership style,” Jarin commented. “He might not have said anything, but it remained blatantly obvious.”
Only to those who knew him well enough, or to those, like Jarin, who were more perceptive than most. “Allow Makki, but ensure he’s stuck in an out-of-the-way corner. Who are you considering assigning the tour task?”
Jarin’s expression gave little away, but his eyes danced. “Garolt.”
I grinned. “Absolutely perfect.”
Not because he had close to fifty years’ experience in the military, but because he was a stickler for the rules and suffered no fools. Neither Aric nor the fake husband would be able to convince him to do anything—or take their orders—without him first confirming with the duty general.
My gaze returned to Neera. “Why was General Makki given quarters in the servant sector?”
“He requested it. Refused all other suggestions.”
“According to unsubstantiated rumor, Makki is both a personal guard and a spy,” Jarin said, tone dry, “and is it not a truth that the best place to gather all the juiciest information is from the staff who see the upper echelons in all their glory, be it good or bad?”
“The palace staff won’t talk.”
“Most won’t, I agree, but there are always those who can be turned by the appropriate inducement,” he replied. “I’ve ordered additional guards stationed at the wall tunnel entrances.”
“Good idea.” The rather extensive network of tunnels between the walls throughout the ground floor allowed the servants to carry foods and drinks to the banquet hall and the various smaller dining rooms. There weren’t, as far as I knew, any that ran directly into either my parents’ suite or my own, but there were tunnels that ran from the kitchen and laundry to the upper floor.
They all exited into the hall, so if Makki was hoping to catch me unawares and alone via such a tunnel, he was out of luck.
“Any further movement from within the fog protecting the Mareritt?”
“Scouts have reported light glowing within and continuing sounds of construction,” Neera replied.
“Any close encounters?”
“None to date, but they are keeping their distance as much as practical. Kerryn reports they are definitely using concealment shields around their watch stations. Apparently they can be seen when moonlight hits them.”
Which didn’t help during the day or when the moon was hidden by clouds. I glanced at Jarin. “Might be worth considering adding air mages to tonight’s patrols. If they can break the cloud cover enough to allow the moon’s light, we can at least start mapping the watch locations.”
Jarin nodded. “Be careful when you fly over there, Commander. Whatever they’re building is big, and it may just be designed to bring down a drakkon.”
Which is why we burn came Kaia’s lazy reply.
Until we know what lies under that fog, we burn nothing . You and Yara ready to go?
Have fed and now wait.
Then come to the wall. To Jarin and Neera, I added, “I’ll scribe once we’re out there and know what we’re facing.”
I half turned to leave, then hesitated. “Have we gotten a response from Harris about that flag yet?”
“He said he’s unfamiliar with it, but will search the archives and let us know.” Neera wrinkled her nose. “He doesn’t hold much hope of finding anything recorded, though.”
No real surprise there, because it had always been a long shot.
I nodded my thanks and walked out. Kele was waiting at the base of the wall steps.
She was a fierce-looking blonde-haired woman with a puckered scar that ran the full length of the left side of her face—something she could have had fixed, but, like most of us scouts, considered it to be a badge of honor.
“How’d the flight over the Blue Steel Mountains go?” I asked as we took the steps two at a time.