Chapter 9 Fury
~ DONAVYN ~
“Can you please repeat that?” I asked, a few days later. Quietly. So quietly. Because I addressed the king, and my tone skated dangerously closely to outright threat.
Alexi shot me a look from his seat in his personal chamber, where he’d called me to confer on a report he’d received. “I said, Donavyn, that the King of Fyrehold has offered his enthusiastic invitation to you, and any team members you may feel that you need for the trip.”
Rage. White-hot, searing, tear-down-the-walls, slide-a-blade-between-his-ribs, rage.
I stood in front of him, trembling with the desire to do him physical harm in retribution for him doing precisely what, as our King, he was entitled to do. After every reason I’d given him not to.
“My point of confusion,” I said through my teeth, “Is why the king himself would extend an invitation to me, let alone to any team members I might bring, unless he has already been informed that we wish to visit?”
Alexi’s gaze flattened, but his lips curled up on one side. “No point dancing around it, Donavyn. I wasn’t willing to wait. And the king has kindly—no, enthusiastically—extended his personal invitation.
“I already sent a messenger to their Furymaster—”
“This isn’t an invitation about the dragons, Donavyn. The king is welcoming you to the Court. You and your companions.”
I stilled. That made no sense. “Why?”
Alexi’s smile grew smug. “Haven’t I told you before how bored the courts can become? And how they cause a ruler headaches when they do?”
I nodded slowly, still trying to piece this together in my head, but nothing made sense. Why would the king reach out to me unless he believed I wanted to examine their dragons, and negotiate some kind of trade?
“I also told you that the King of Fyrehold had invited me to visit?”
“Yes, but—”
“He reached out a second time. It appears that he’s scrambling to keep his court entertained so they won’t turn their petty machinations on him.”
Alexi looked predatory.
“Without our intervention, he extended his invitation to me again. I took the opportunity to advise him that you were hoping to make a trip when things had settled down here—for the dragons, of course—but I may also have suggested that you dragged your feet because you’d taken up with a particularly alluring young woman, and I suspected you weren’t willing to leave her under the eyes of my men of the court,” he concluded, pleased with himself.
“Of course, the idiot took the bait. He thinks you’ve got an enticing filly.
He’s hoping to ingratiate himself with me.
He’s happy for you to also negotiate for dragon stock while you’re there.
But I think he’s most interested in seeing my stallion come among his mares and… shake things up.”
Inwardly, I gaped. I had to be careful to manage my expression, but despair mixed with deadly rage in my chest. He’d set us up. He’d made it impossible for us to say no. And he knew it.
“Alexi,” I said through my teeth. “What if this is a trap?”
“He reached out to me, Donavyn. There’s no risk he thinks you’re maneuvering, because I told him how reluctant you are, and hinted at other responsibilities here.
He thinks he has to entice you—he’s invited you to their festival of lights, and very generously suggested that you may be attended by any team members you see fit. ”
“There’s no chance for subterfuge,” I breathed. “You’re sending us in—”
“With all eyes on you, yes,” Alexi said, his eyes glinting with a challenge to me to defy him.
“But let’s be clear: The Court won’t suspect you because their king asked for a visit, and I merely, casually, remembered the plan we’d discussed before you were distracted by other things.
I have, quite deftly, garnered you and her an invitation among the Court, and I’ve already inflated their interest in both of you, without encroaching on your plan whatsoever.
Our possible enemies open their gates to us, Donavyn.
Offering themselves on a platter—to you, and your mate.
It’s the perfect opportunity to infiltrate and determine whether they are friend or foe. Which is our purpose, is it not?”
“Yes, but—”
“I don’t want to hear your protests for her sake. She’s never safer than if they want her. Unless you see a hole in my logic, it’s time to move forward. I’ll need to respond to him and let him know when to expect you and your team.”
I did war with myself, and Alexi knew it. But he also nodded approvingly when he saw me get hold of myself, though I felt like my bones vibrated inside my skin.
“I’ll need to speak with those training her, see how far she’s come.
And speak with our herd managers. This isn’t a protest against moving faster, Alexi.
It is our purpose to infiltrate and identify the truth.
We can’t do that if she goes in ill-prepared.
Please, give us weeks, not days. If it’s a simple curiosity, the extra time will only whet their appetites. ”
Appetites. I was speaking about noble appetites towards my mate. What the fuck was wrong with the world?
I wanted to grab the man up and shake him, but he was right. He’d been deft in his manipulation. Under any other circumstances, I would have approved greatly.
“I told you three weeks, and one has passed—”
“You said at least—”
“She’s the key to this, Donavyn. I’m certain of it.
Diaan is equally convinced. I’m sending you because you create credibility—and the women who traveled with the king were quite enamored with you, apparently.
Fyrehold is doing anything in his power to keep his court distracted.
And he seems particularly interested in keeping Vosgaarde close.
The question is, why? Does he hunger for our crumbs because he fears the future of our alliance isn’t sure?
Or is he attempting to manipulate? It’s time to find out, and circumstances have allowed us to safely usher you both in.
Call it a provision from God, or whatever you wish. But it’s time, Donavyn.”
“And if it’s a trap?” I seethed.
“Then between you, you’ll discover it, and we’ll have our answer,” he returned firmly.
And there it was, that attitude again, where the potential loss of life at the service of his purposes was nothing but a hazard of the game. His callousness left me breathless. But before I could find words that wouldn’t end in me strung up for treason, the door opened.
“What have I missed?” Diann swept into the room, waving off a handful of servants and leaving them outside the chamber when she saw our faces.
Just what I needed.
As Alexi filled her in on our conversation and my protests, I stood there stiffly, fighting for control. I seemed to live in that state these days, and now the two most powerful people in my life were in agreement on putting the one life at risk that was most important to me.
“What is your primary concern, Donavyn?” Diaan asked. I couldn’t tell if she was genuinely worried, or simply trying to get me onside. She’d been very patient and willing to listen since I’d put her in her place.
I clenched my hands to fists and forced myself not to shout.
“She’s barely trained. She’s still struggling just to make it through the basics.
We can’t pull her out while she’s this shaky, put her in the middle of a pack of wolves, and expect her to succeed!
But she’s already been drawn to their attention, so there’s no chance to continue her training there.
It’s just… it’s too much to expect one, inexperienced person to carry! ”
Diaan pursed her lips thoughtfully, but a moment later she shook her head. “I think you forget how the Court works, Donavyn. I know you’re accustomed to the rather frank dealings of the commoners. Those of the Court see potential for betrayal in everything.”
“All the more reason to be circumspect—”
“No, no. Hear me,” Diaan insisted, though she didn’t sound angry.
“She’s been given a measure of protection—invited as part of your team, by their very own King.
They’ll be curious about her, and her relationship with you, yes.
But they’ll also know they’re dealing with someone who isn’t beneath our King’s notice.
You should be pleased. To them, no matter how she looks, she’s clearly more than a simple servant girl.
It will make them more careful in their dealings with her. ”
“It will place a target on her back—all eyes waiting for her!” I snarled.
“And you,” Diaan pointed out.
“But I’ve had decades to train and learn strategy—”
Diaan’s head tilted. “Do you not believe she’s up to the task?”
“Of course I do—I wouldn’t have raised her if she couldn’t handle the work.”
“Then why are you so agitated?” Alexi asked pointedly.
I gritted my teeth. “I don’t want to keep her from battle entirely.
I only want to take her to it wisely. As I would with any new asset.
No blade will be effective until it’s properly forged.
If we put her into the battle too early and she fails, the responsibility lays with us.
I think we need to be more circumspect in introducing her—”
“The powerful are rarely circumspect unless they’re up to something,” Alexi said, waving off the suggestion as if it were a fly annoying him.
“I stand by my conclusion: This introduction offers her more credibility, and will speed her opportunity to engage with those who’d have real answers.
No, I disagree, Donavyn. This is the better plan. I’m certain of it.”
The truth was, even if he was wrong, it was too late now, so there was no further point in arguing. I stood by as the two of them discussed the message that would be sent to the King of Fyrehold, with all the appropriate subtext, and—in concession to me—a somewhat vague date of arrival.
I appreciated Diaan’s willingness to be flexible there, and her laughing insistence that it would only make them more curious about what we might be hiding from them. But, by the time they dismissed me, I shook with tension.
‘Donavyn?’ Kgosi rumbled in my head.
‘Not now!’ I growled, then caught myself and huffed. As I reached the end of the royal quarters, I waved off the guards that offered to escort me out of the palace. My dragon wasn’t the reason I was tense, and he didn’t deserve my ire. ‘I’m sorry, Kgosi. I…’
‘Your heart is troubled.’
I sighed. ‘Yes. It is. But I’m not in immediate danger, and neither is Bren. Though that may come far sooner than I’m comfortable with. The promise of war presses on me and—’
‘Perhaps the time has come for us to speak about the things you’ve been avoiding,’ Kgosi sent grimly. I frowned.
‘What do you mean?’ I asked instinctively, then winced. I knew exactly what he meant, and the humming tension in my body increased.
There was a beat before my dragon answered, and I was reminded of the times during my schooling when I’d been sent to the headmaster’s office and had to wait for his attention, knowing discipline would be the result.
‘I have tried, Donavyn.’
‘Tried what?’
‘I have tried to leave you to this path. You are an adult—but I believe I have misjudged your need. Come. Speak to me now. Here.’
The sheer authority in that voice, the dominance that rang with the expectation of obedience, prickled up my spine. My dragon was ancient and pompous, powerful, and irritating as all hell. But he so rarely dominated me, the moments he did were physically uncomfortable.
But even hearing myself express that made me even more certain that I needed to heed my dragon’s wisdom. I’d only ever regretted ignoring Kgosi’s wisdom.
‘I’ll be there in half an hour,’ I sent reluctantly. ‘I’m dressed for the king. I need to change before coming to the stables.’
‘Very well,’ Kgosi, sent, though I felt his disapproval. ‘Please, don’t delay. We need this, Donavyn.’
I muttered to myself for the entire walk back to my quarters—walking through the door, praying that somehow, impossibly, Bren would be finished with her studies and patrols early and already be there so I could soothe myself with her presence. But of course, she wasn’t.
I dragged my feet like a child in trouble, but got on with the job like the adult I was.
I was only running a couple of minutes late when I’d eaten, changed, and left a note for Bren in case I was the one to be late tonight. But, as I left the apartment, I felt Kgosi nudge my mind.
‘I’m on my way!’ I growled. ‘I’ll walk quickly.’
‘Nevermind that,’ Kgosi sent, and I stopped dead. His tone was heavy with grief and the noble strength of a leader facing crisis.
All anger and frustration drained out of my toes at that tone and I turned for the stairs, already running. ‘I’m sorry, Kgosi. I’m not myself. Tell me. What’s going on?’
But my dragon said nothing. Only sent me an image—the wood at the edge of the launch hollow. A dragon, crumpled among the trees, skin slack and losing scales. Bleeding from spaces that once held wicked pinions and spines. Ears drooping.
A crowd had gathered, healers, and Furyknights, and their dragons.
‘What the hell? Who—’
Then, Kgosi showed me the dragonfury lifting its head and my breath left my body.
‘Kgosi… is that Ciar?’
‘Yes.’
The dragon was one who’d been sent on that fateful trip to Draeventhall. One of the dragons bonded to a man that had flown with Ruin, Bren’s former lover—and her betrayer.
Ciar was the dragon of Ruin’s best friend, and his comrade on that Shadowfang mission.
His rider was named Davros. And he was the man in Bren’s memory who’d called Ruin “Talon,” a dragon name that I’d recognized, and the manner by which I’d learned Ruin’s identity when she had attempted to shroud it from me.
But, though Kgosi circled the dragonfury, rumbling and crooning comfort for the male who was clearly at risk of death… there was no sign of his rider.