Chapter 22 #2
“I’ve healed hundreds if not thousands of people. I’ve only… Well, if I have to defend myself, I’ve recently learned—”
It would be far more advantageous to be the ally of the princess than her enemy, Wreylith said. She has potential to gain greater ability than her weak eyes and body suggest.
“It’s wonderful when you stand up for me,” Syla murmured.
Maybe it had been better when Wreylith hadn’t.
I am assisting you in gaining an alliance. The words didn’t seem to reach Atilya. Again, you are welcome. Feel free to add more sheep and horn hogs to what you’ve already promised me. Many more horn hogs.
“But does she have the potential to become queen and lead her people?” Atilya’s eyebrows had descended, and now she squinted thoughtfully at Syla. “And make decisions regarding who and who is not invited to visit their islands?”
“Right now, I’m on a mission to help my people by returning protection to the Kingdom—to all of our islands.
After that, I’ll deal with those at home who seek to usurp the throne for themselves.
I’ve had to prioritize this mission.” Syla winced, expecting Atilya to point out that this had been a bad time to leave, that it would be hard to wrest power back from someone who’d already claimed it.
“Understandable,” Atilya said. “One stands a much better chance of surviving the winter if the entire tribe is kept fed and healthy, not only an individual.”
“Yes. I do hope to return as soon as possible so that I can put an end to the scheming and plotting and…” And what?
Had she decided that she wanted the throne?
All along, she hadn’t thought herself capable, but she’d already admitted that she also didn’t want a power-hungry person taking over the Kingdom, someone who might care less about the welfare of the people and more about him or herself.
“I’ll ensure someone capable and good for the Kingdom is on the throne in the end. ”
Surprise flickered in Atilya’s eyes. “Not you?”
“As I said, I trained to be a healer. And as my parents’ youngest, I wasn’t educated and groomed for a life in government.
” The words felt dishonest when they came out, and she made herself adjust them.
“I chose not to be educated and groomed for a life in politics, and, because I was the youngest, my parents allowed that.”
“You’re still young now. Plenty of time to learn. If you want to learn.”
“I…” Syla did not but caught herself finishing with, “I’m going to have to consider it. The other options may force me to.”
“I didn’t even care for the previous option. Your queen had no interest in working with our people—or allowing any stormers at all to come ashore, whether we had a link to dragons or not. Those who tried were rounded up and kicked out.” Atilya’s voice chilled. “Or killed.”
Syla wanted to balk at the idea. She’d never heard of stormers being killed unless they’d been there as spies or saboteurs.
But she’d skipped as many family dinners as possible and had never asked about Kingdom relations with their people or anything else going on around the islands that hadn’t been related to the temples or herbalism.
“King Blaylok was better,” Atilya added. “He’d listen to us and wasn’t opposed to trade with our people.”
“I’m not opposed to that either. I tried to send a message to you to invite you to come for negotiations, but… I don’t think my messenger knew where to find you.”
“We don’t publicize our camps. We don’t trust that the tribes wouldn’t destroy us if they could.” Atilya looked toward the hide flaps forming rooms, acting as walls to hide the contents. “If you were to become queen, we would be open to negotiations.”
“I don’t suppose I could imply I have an alliance with you to assist me in solidifying my place on the throne.”
Syla didn’t expect Atilya to promise real assistance, but if she wouldn’t mind Syla insinuating a link, it could help her. And if the woman truly wanted someone amenable to her cause to lead the Kingdom, maybe she would agree.
But Atilya’s eyes narrowed again. “To be worthy of ruling your people, you should be able to claim your throne on your own. Our people don’t grant leadership by birth. It must be taken through strength and cunning. That is what we respect.”
Syla was tempted to point out that the Kingdom had hundreds of thousands of people in it and wasn’t a small tribe where everyone knew everyone else’s name.
It took more than winning a duel to lead—and be allowed to lead.
As Fel had pointed out, she needed allies.
Cunning would only get her so far, and she didn’t even have strength.
“I understand your position,” she made herself say.
“Should you become the queen on your own, we would negotiate with you. We might even support you in keeping the tribes from hostile actions.”
“That would be valuable.”
“Yes.”
Syla told herself that was at least something. She hadn’t expected the faction to help, regardless. Though… “Will you allow me to mine some of your ore for my mission?”
“We have no claim on the ore. You are welcome to it, if you can convince one of the dragons to dismount.” Atilya smirked and gestured toward the back of the cavern.
“Why are they roosting on it?”
“I understand it’s warm and tingles pleasantly through their scales.” Atilya shrugged. “When I put my hand on it, the buzz of magic is almost painful, but skin is thinner and more fragile than scales. It must take firmness to make a dragon tingle.”
I am growing curious to sit on that ore, Wreylith said.
She wasn’t the only curious one in their party. Teyla had left Fel’s side to wander the cavern with a journal and pencil as she alternately looked at the stone walls and scribbled on the pages. Some of those walls had faded paintings from a long-past era.
More interested in the ore from a long-past era, Syla said silently to Wreylith, Why don’t you see if you can bump one of those males aside, claim a spot, and let me carve out a chunk while you’re enjoying the tingle?
I will consider that.
“Thank you for allowing us to mine some.” Reminded of her competition, Syla said, “Someone else may arrive looking for ore. Captain Vorik.” She was surprised he hadn’t found the cavern first, but his dragon presumably wasn’t related to any of the dragons here.
“I would consider it a great favor if you didn’t allow him to mine any. ”
“He’s already been here.” Atilya smiled tightly. “And he will remain here.”
Syla stared, alarmed by the triumphant gleam in the woman’s eyes. Was Atilya implying that she’d killed Vorik?
Atilya spread her arm, pointing to one of the rooms created by hides, the flaps on all sides down so that they couldn’t see inside.
“He’s not tied up back there.” It wasn’t a question. Syla was certain ropes couldn’t bind Vorik. She’d seen him break metal shackles before. And rip iron bars out of windows.
“He’s bound and unconscious.”
“Unconscious?” Syla thought of Candles of Serenity but hadn’t caught the scents of eucalyptus and dragonquell in the air along with the woodsmoke and meat smells. Of course, there were many substances that could act as a sedative on a human.
Or, might he have been knocked out in battle with a greater warrior? Or—more likely—a dragon? She hadn’t seen many men or women who could best Vorik in battle.
“Yes, and he should remain so throughout the night. Dayvak buds are very potent.”
“Oh, you fed him a drug.” Familiar with the powder made from the dried flowers, Syla looked toward the platters of meat. Had they invited him to share the dinner but tainted it?
Poor Vorik. People kept knocking him unconscious. Understandably, since he was exceedingly dangerous when alert.
“Normally, we prefer honorable means over treachery,” Atilya said, “but I’ve seen him fight.
It wouldn’t have gone well if I’d pitted even my best warrior against him.
I was also hoping he’d divulge more about what his people are up to if we pretended amiability and gave him food.
” Her shrug suggested that hadn’t happened.
No, Vorik was good at keeping secrets.
“What about the rider who was with him?” Syla asked. “And their dragons?”
“We sent them back to their headquarters to let their general know we have Vorik as a hostage. The Sixteen Talons captured some of our people last month—the ones who were attempting to spy and would have, as it happens, learned about the attack on your kingdom ahead of time if they’d been successful.
One of them was killed outright.” Anger and fury flashed in Atilya’s eyes.
“Others yet live, or so we’re told. I hope we can trust Vorik’s word.
If they’re alive, we’ve proposed a trade.
And, from what I gather, you wouldn’t mind if Vorik were stuck here for a time while you complete your mission. ”
“I wouldn’t mind that at all.”
If they wanted to trade Vorik in a prisoner exchange, they shouldn’t hurt him.
Syla had no qualms about leaving him behind, though she would have to find that amphora.
If she could get it and the ore and take off for the storm god’s laboratory…
By the gods’ blessings, was it possible something was finally going her way?
All she had to do was get the last component.
If only she were sure that she and her allies had the power necessary to infiltrate that laboratory.
“It takes magic to extract the ore from the surrounding rock,” Atilya said, “but it looks like your dragon might handle that.”
Wreylith was stalking toward one of the males. His head came up, and he appeared more interested in her approach than threatened by it. Syla had no idea what allure Wreylith had, beyond the power that even she could sense, but she undeniably had a quality that intrigued the opposite sex.
“She’s not my dragon, I assure you,” Syla said. “She’s deigning to work with me in exchange for a somewhat ridiculous amount of livestock that I’ve agreed to acquire for her.”
“That’s not why she verbally—telepathically—defended you and said you have potential.” Atilya gazed thoughtfully at Syla.
Lightning flashed outside the cavern, brightening the interior for an instant, as Syla considered the words. “I think she’s hoping I’ll increase the horn-hog allotment.”
“Dragons do work up a big appetite when they’re flying riders around the world.
” Atilya extended a hand toward the campfires.
“Will you have a meal with us? And rest here tonight? The weather is turning dark, and it takes time for even a dragon to cut teal ore away from its rock bed. What’s exposed was like that when we arrived.
We think human miners long ago excavated the stone around it, only to find that they lacked the magic necessary to remove it.
The rock around it is hardened by the ore’s magical presence, so it’s not as easy as simply chiseling it out. ”
“A meal sounds wonderful as long as it’s not drugged.” Syla smiled at Atilya to make it a joke, but she wondered if it was one. She’d never wronged the woman, but she doubted Vorik had either. And Atilya had as much as admitted she’d held a grudge against Syla’s mother.
“We’ll give you a portion treated only with spices. Though we won’t go to war with the Kingdom on your behalf to help you claim the throne, we also won’t hinder you on your quest. We’d prefer that someone who will think kindly of our faction gain power there.” Atilya nodded firmly to her.
Syla found herself wanting to believe the woman, especially after Captain Radmarik had helped her, but vowed to take only dainty portions from the platters—and only after she’d witnessed others eating from the same dishes.
More than eating, she wanted to figure out where the amphora had been stashed, and she looked around the camp.
Her eye snagged on something familiar. A gargoyle-bone sword.
Was that Vorik’s weapon? It leaned against the rusty mining equipment, as if tossed aside as garbage—or something nobody would need in the future.
“Chieftess Atilya?” Syla asked. “What will you do with Captain Vorik if his people won’t agree to a prisoner exchange?”
“Don’t worry. We won’t let him go to harry you on your quest.”
“That’s a relief,” Syla said, though it wasn’t why she’d asked.
“One way or another, we’ll make sure he doesn’t trouble you again.” Face grim, Atilya walked away.
Dread sank into Syla’s stomach. Would they kill him? Simply because he’d dared fly into their cave looking for ore? Or, more likely, because he was General Jhiton’s brother and, as many others had said, his right-hand man?
Syla followed Atilya to the campfires, but she had lost her interest in eating.