Chapter 3 #2
“Your Majesty?” Ignoring the side conversation, Vonla was watching Syla intently.
“Let me take a team to the capital while you and your aunt work on the shielder. I’ll gather information and bring it back.
I could even… Oh! What if I wore a cloak, a regal cloak, and took a couple of Royal Protectors with me?
If there are spies in the countryside, they might mistake me for you.
I could try to make sure they did so that they would focus on my party and you could move about more freely.
Being watched might make it harder for me to gather information, but I could send one of my lieutenants ahead. Or there could be two parties…”
Syla appreciated the woman’s initiative and was more inclined to trust Vonla than the crewmen and soldiers she barely knew, but… “It might not be conducive to your health to pose as me. People have rudely been trying to kill me lately. Often.”
Syla considered Vorik, though Captain Lesva was the person who popped into her mind. She also recalled the black-masked soldiers who’d tried to assassinate her a few weeks earlier.
“Don’t look at me,” Vorik said. “I’ve been trying to keep you alive.”
“I do appreciate that.”
“I’m well-trained, Your Majesty,” Vonla said.
“I’m not afraid of soldiers coming after me, and I wouldn’t be foolish enough to walk out in the open when snipers might be about.
Also, if we were surrounded by soldiers, I could push back my hood to show them who I really am.
Underneath the cloak, I’d be wearing the same uniform as those looking for you.
” Vonla shrugged. “We’re all supposed to be on the same side. ”
“We will be again,” Syla said. “I do have a few people in the capital who are supposed to be keeping an eye and ear out on my behalf. Contacting them might prove fruitful.”
“It wouldn’t be a bad idea to send someone else in to do that first,” Fel said.
“Someone you can trust,” Vorik said quietly, arching an eyebrow and glancing at Vonla. Since he hadn’t interacted with the woman, he probably didn’t have any idea if she was trustworthy.
Of course, Syla couldn’t truly know either.
She hadn’t been through battle after battle with the woman the way she had with Fel and Vorik and even Aunt Tibby.
Vonla might want to be put ashore so she could immediately report to a superior officer loyal to Lord Fograth about Syla’s plans, and Syla had been speaking openly enough about them that Vonla would have something to report. She didn’t mistrust the woman, but…
“I think Captain Vonla is the right person for the job, but will you let me heal your wounds first, Captain?” Syla pointed at the bandage visible under the woman’s sleeve. “You’ll want to be fully fit if you do run into trouble.”
“Magically?” Vonla asked.
“Yes.” Syla watched the captain’s eyes. If the woman held any secrets or had any thoughts about working against her, a magical healing might leave her feeling more loyal afterward.
Even if it didn’t always work like that, people being aware that it could have that effect sometimes changed how they acted—what they revealed.
“I’d like that, Your Majesty.” Vonla held up her arm. “Corporal Dedric put this bandage on. He’s had some medic’s training, but his last patient died of gangrene, and he was spitting chaw while binding this up.”
“Not on the wound, hopefully.” Syla waved for Vonla to step aside with her, and they found a spot to sit down while the Fanged Whale headed around the north side of the island.
“No, but it didn’t seem sanitary. In the temples, they’re always scrubbing floors and telling people to scour everything.”
“It is true that studies have proven that wounds are less likely to be infected if they’re kept clean.”
“I knew it.”
Vonla didn’t hesitate to stick out her arm when Syla waved for it, and her belief that the captain didn’t have anything to hide grew stronger.
“This won’t take long,” she said, almost relieved to send her magic into the woman’s body to heal. As she’d just been thinking, so often of late, she’d used her power for self-defense—to hurt others. Healing was what she preferred.
“Thank you, Your Majesty. I knew… I mean, I figured you’d be, you know.” Vonla shrugged, her cheeks growing pink. “I always respected your mother. Your father too, but I like women who aren’t afraid to wield a sword.”
“That’s something I’ve not tried yet.” Syla almost mentioned that she might attempt juggling first, but Vonla wouldn’t understand the reference.
“No, but you wielded that weapons platform in the middle of all the chaos of battle. And you stayed there even when it was dangerous. Really dangerous. You’re a lot like your mother.”
The words made Syla tear up, and she stared at Vonla’s arm as she worked, trying not to let emotion overcome her.
The chaos of all the stormer attacks and her own quests had kept her so busy since she’d lost her mother and siblings that she had often been too distracted to think about them.
Sometimes, she even forgot they were gone and imagined them back at the castle, waiting for her to finish up her quests and return.
But their deaths were all recent. Raw. When all this was over, Syla would take a suitable time to grieve and recover.
“I never got to speak with Queen Lia,” Vonla added after a time. “I always wanted to. She was one of the reasons I became a fleet soldier. Women have always been allowed to join, but it’s not that encouraged.”
“You’re doing a good job as an officer,” Syla said when she found her voice again. The lump in her throat lingered, but she managed to finish healing the wound.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“I’ll give you a list of people who should have been keeping an eye out for me while we’ve been gone. If you can visit them, maybe they can give you reports.”
Probably not formal reports, Syla thought, remembering that she’d recruited Celena, a prostitute from a brothel.
“Yes, Your Majesty. That was smart of you to cultivate spies.”
Syla didn’t mention that it had been Fel’s idea. “I didn’t have time to put anything sophisticated in place, so it’s mostly healers from the temples around the capital. And a, uhm, worker at Sailor Services near the docks.”
Syla didn’t think a military officer would think anything odd of turning a prostitute into a spy but still felt a twinge of discomfort because of how it had happened, with Celena promising her loyalty after a healing. However inadvertent, it had been Syla’s magic that had enraptured the woman.
“My mother worked at a brothel,” Vonla said. “Those weren’t the kinds of swords that I was interested in handling, but it doesn’t bother me.”
“Good.” Syla smiled and leaned back. “That should feel better now.”
Vonla rotated her wrist and flexed her fingers. “Much better. Thank you.” She looked toward the coastline where a few houses were visible in green grass along a bluff overlooking the sea. “I’ll grab some gear. And a cloak.”
“Good.” Syla sensed Wreylith approaching and stood up.
Agrevlari launched off the wheelhouse to fly away. At first, she thought he was vacating Wreylith’s spot out of respect, but the Fanged Whale sailed through the barrier, a magical buzz making her skin tingle, and she realized the green dragon would have been forced off one way or another.
I’ve consumed enough food for now, Wreylith told Syla as she soared along the coastline, the barrier allowing her in. Do you wish to fly somewhere? I’m most eager for you to reclaim your throne.
So we can set about the important tasks of settling the kingdom and finding you a cave?
Especially the latter. Wreylith alighted on the wheelhouse.
Since my party will be greater than two, I believe I’ll have to go ashore on foot, but… Syla tapped her chin as she gazed at the dragon. Perhaps you could also be a diversion.
Dragons aren’t diversions. Our greatness makes us the sublime focus of all.
Would you like to draw people’s focus by flying around near the capital? Perhaps you could scout for a suitable cave where people are likely to notice you.
When I did that earlier, soldiers fired cannonballs at me.
That didn’t seem to disturb you overmuch.
They are not as deadly as the magical projectiles of the death launcher. Wreylith bared her sharp fangs at the weapons platform.
A couple of crewmen on the deck near it skittered away, probably worried her ire was for them.
You wouldn’t have to get close enough to invite cannon fire, Syla thought, but if people saw you flying about, they might think I’m nearby.
And you do not plan to be nearby?
My aunt Tibby has an urge to visit a glassworks about ten miles west of the capital.
Wreylith turned her eyes toward Syla; fortunately, she’d put away her fangs. This will aid you in regaining your throne?
It will, yes. I need to make sure my aunt is protected while she works.
Yet you’ll send me away? I am the superior protector on this island.
I don’t doubt that, but you’re also very noticeable. If people see you perched on the glassworks building, they’ll know I’m there. I need to act stealthily for now.
Like the dragons on the Island of Eliok.
Er, what? They’re being stealthy? The last Syla had heard, stormer dragons had openly driven off the Freeborn Faction allies she’d left behind on Harvest Island. She wasn’t surprised that some lurked in the area, hunting and who knew what else.
Many are congregating in caves of the dormant volcano.
While I was hunting on the island, I attempted to determine what they were doing since I sensed…
I am not sure precisely what I sensed, but it was strange.
They were using their inherent magic and seemed to be pooling their power to do something.
Were there any riders with them? Syla considered Vorik, wondering if the dragons were partaking in a stormer scheme that he would know something about.
Not that I observed. The riders went to the Island of Bogs for the attack there, but since the dragons couldn’t accompany them…
They were left to their own devices? Syla wondered what kind of devices dragons might be up to in a volcano cave.
They couldn’t use their power to make it erupt, could they?
Even if they could, why would they? They’d already caused the shielder there to be removed and had access to the island.
Most of the Kingdom population lived on the opposite end from the volcano.
Some farms and orchards might be damaged if lava flowed far past its slopes, but the wild forests where elioks and other dragon-favored prey lived would also be disturbed.
It would seem so, Wreylith said. I also spotted wyverns and cloud strikers in the area. Even a manticore. Usually, they do not fly across the sea, but something drew those beings.
A love for eliok? Syla asked but doubted it.
Few eliok remain on the island. The dragons grew very secretive when I asked about their affairs, but that is not surprising. They’ve not confided in me since I started associating with you.
A puny bespectacled human on the other side.
You are not entirely puny anymore. You are gaining power from me and learning how to use that with which you were born with more versatility.
Yes, I look forward to learning more about how to fully use my dragon-gifted power as soon as there’s time. Back at Bogberry Island, it helped me dodge some arrows.
That is a proper use for power.
I would think so.
Vorik joined Syla near the railing. “Are you gazing across the deck at my profile because you’re enraptured by my handsome masculinity?”
“I was wondering if your people are up to something.”
“Usually.”
“And if you knew anything about a dragon gathering on Harvest Island. Wreylith thinks they’re scheming.”
“I do not know about it,” Vorik said, “and I’m disappointed that you were thinking about scheming dragons while gazing at me.”
“I’m sorry. I would be happy to be enraptured by your masculinity tonight if we can find some time alone together.”
“I look forward to that. As to the rest, I’ve not communicated with my people since leaving the camp on the mainland.
Other than those we encountered in the mine.
Eventually, I’ll have to speak with my leaders, but I’m…
avoiding that. One of my lieutenants saw me riding over Castle Island with you, and once word gets back to my chiefs that I’m alive but haven’t returned, there will be questions.
Or assumptions. Probably correct assumptions. ” Vorik frowned.
“Would it help if I put you in shackles? So they think you really are a prisoner?”
Vorik sighed. “Only if I want to prevaricate with them, and I do not. When they ask… I’ll speak the truth.”
“What exactly is the truth? You haven’t decided to turn against them, right?”
“That’s correct, but I won’t help them continue with their war.
I’m here to help you regain your throne, and then…
then I don’t know. I won’t fight against my people, but I am hoping that there’s a future where there can be peace.
Or at least a treaty and cessation of hostilities.
I’m sure you’ll tell me that we can’t expect genuine peace after initiating the war and killing so many of your people, but I do hope for something besides eternal conflict. ”
“I hope for that too.” Syla clasped his hand, his sword-calloused palm warm against her fingers. “And I may be more enraptured with you than I admitted.”
“I thought so.”
Vorik returned her hand clasp, but, as the ship sailed for the mouth of a quiet cove, he looked to the north. A gray dragon was flying in the distance, a rider visible on its back.
“Do you think,” Syla asked, “your people will let you go without trouble?”
“It depends on how mad they collectively are after the defeat at Bogberry Island.” Vorik lowered his voice. “And the loss of Jhiton.”
Syla wanted to say that the general’s death wasn’t Vorik’s fault, but, according to Vorik, it absolutely was. And Tibby, who’d glimpsed some of their fight before trying to bring the mine ceiling down on both of them, had implied the same.
“We might both have assassins after us going forward,” Syla murmured.
“How fun for us to share a common predicament.”
“Undoubtedly.”