Chapter 10
When Syla had mentioned that Celena from the brothel might be a good person to speak with, she hadn’t expected Captain Vonla to bring her along. But, glad for any information she could get, she stood with the group in front of the farmhouse and listened intently as Celena spoke.
“I’ve heard that Lord Fograth visits the castle, Your Majesty, but he hasn’t taken up residence there.
He’s just presumptuously hanging his family’s flag from the battlements.
So presumptuous! From what people are saying, he’s not staying in his manor at the edge of the capital either.
I figure the military men he orders around know where he is, and I’ve been listening for details, the way I told you I would, but I haven’t caught his location yet. ”
Captain Vonla stood in front of the carriage and horses, also listening, though she’d probably heard the information already.
One of the Royal Protectors walked around, lighting lanterns on the fence and farmhouse to go along with two mounted beside the carriage door.
There was enough illumination for Syla to see Celena’s lean, tired face but also the bright earnestness in her eyes as she spoke.
Even though the magically-induced gratitude and desire to please should have worn off in the weeks since Syla had healed her, Celena had fallen to her knees with relief when she’d walked up.
Apparently, Fograth had not only been spreading rumors that Syla was dead, but he’d had Relvin publish an article to further convince people of the falsehood.
An obituary. Thanks to Vonla, who’d found a copy of the newspaper in the capital, Syla held it under her arm.
She hadn’t been that tempted to read its lies yet.
Or see what Relvin had written about her life when he’d penned the obituary.
“If he’s not staying in the castle, I suppose flying over the courtyard walls on a dragon, jumping down inside, and fighting my way to the throne room to deal with him wouldn’t work.
” Syla had thought that sounded suicidal, but when Vorik had suggested it, she’d allowed herself to grow wistful at the idea of a simple solution.
“I… wouldn’t think so, Your Majesty,” Celena said. “Are you a brilliant sword master? Like your mother? And your sisters were known to challenge soldiers to practice too.”
“I’m not, but I know a brilliant sword master.” Syla looked back toward the machine shop.
For some reason, Vorik hadn’t followed her to the farmhouse, but she sensed that he was still over there. Maybe he’d spotted Celena on one of the horses and worried the presence of a stormer would alarm a woman not familiar with him.
“And you have a dragon. That brilliant and beautiful red dragon.” Celena looked around.
“But she’s not here, is she? She’s been spotted flying around the countryside without a rider, and people are afraid that means the obituary is true, that you did die in the fighting at Harvest Island.
They think she’s trapped here forever, not able to escape the barrier without a link to you.
Some think she’ll haunt all the people on Castle Island for all eternity. ”
“She would more likely haunt their livestock.” Syla paused to consider that Wreylith might be trapped on the island if someone succeeded in killing her.
Even with Syla still among the living, the dragon’s ability to fly through the Bogberry Island barrier had come with difficulties.
The shielders, it seemed, were persnickety.
“Maybe she would have to find someone else with a moon-mark to bond with so she could escape.” Syla smiled at the thought of Aunt Tibby riding on Wreylith’s back, though the dragon would be more likely to pick someone like Teyla. “She would find a way out, I’m sure.”
“Your Majesty?” Celena asked.
“Sorry. I’m musing to myself. Wreylith is elsewhere on the island, distracting people for me.” Syla decided not to mention her dragon’s interest in searching for caves.
“Did you hear any news in the city about my father?” Teyla asked Captain Vonla as much as Celena. “About his death and why someone would have killed him in the first place? It sounds like… from Syla’s description, it wasn’t an accident.”
“It was not,” Syla said.
“But nobody on the estate should have had a reason to kill him,” Teyla continued.
“He wasn’t always my most staunch supporter, especially when he locked me in my room with those stupid books, but he wasn’t cruel in general.
We were never that close, especially after Mother passed, but he didn’t collect enemies.
Relvin rubs a lot of people the wrong way, but Father was subtler about his ambitions. ”
“I didn’t hear anything about that, my Lady,” Vonla said.
“His death was recent,” Syla pointed out. “This morning, we think. So the news probably hasn’t made it to the capital yet.”
“I suppose,” Teyla said, “but if some of the staff left, news like that could spread rapidly.”
“It sounds like I’ll have to go to the capital myself to search for Fograth.
” Syla had planned to head there anyway.
She was more concerned about getting the throne back than anything else; once she had control again, she could have the murder of Teyla’s father investigated.
But how would she find Fograth if she had to skulk around and worry about being spotted at every turn?
“Wherever he’s staying, he’ll have troops around him. You should take me if you go.” Vonla lowered her voice to a whisper to add, “I’ve never ridden on a dragon before.”
“It’s probably not quite like what you expect. I wonder if I should return to Lyvor and check on Tibby’s progress with the shielder first. I’ll have an easier time convincing General Dolok and other military men to support me if I can return protection to Harvest Island before…”
“Walking up to Fograth and punching him in the face?” Teyla asked.
“I don’t usually punch people,” Syla said.
“I would be happy to do it for you.”
“Can’t the dragon bite off his head, Your Majesty?” Celena sounded more enthused than horrified by the idea.
“That might be more effective than my punches,” Teyla said, “though I’m not bad at them. Remember our sergeant of the estate, Hyak? He taught me how to rotate my body and put all of my power into a punch. I even learned to break a board.”
“A dragon can snap an entire tree in half,” Celena said.
“There’s no technique I could learn that would allow me to match a dragon for power,” Teyla said.
“I think Celena wants to see Fograth beheaded.” Syla didn’t know what to think of all the vengeful, bloodthirsty women around her.
Celena nodded. “I don’t want a scheming minor lord to have the throne. They’re all… even if Fograth isn’t a regular at the brothel, most of the ones who come down there are self-important and loathsome. Besides, Your Majesty, you’re the best person to rule the Kingdom. And you’re the rightful one.”
“Thank you.”
“I have more news, Your Majesty,” Vonla said.
Syla braced herself. “Go ahead.”
“Fleet ships are searching the waters all along the Castle Island coastline. They have orders to find the vessels that brought you here and capture them, especially the one carrying the weapons platform.”
“Those are Island Lord Oyenar’s ships, not enemy vessels,” Syla said, though she’d already assumed the fleet had those orders.
“Nonetheless, they carried you here, so…”
“Fograth is ordering them to be treated poorly?”
“Captured is what the orders supposedly are. Not sunk. Fograth mostly wants that weapons platform.”
“Doesn’t everybody?” Syla murmured, though the stormers had wanted it sunk, not to acquire it for themselves. “Do you think he knows that only Tibby and I can operate it?”
“Probably not.”
Syla could technically make it so someone else with a moon-mark could use it, but she had no plans to help Fograth gain power.
“He may only want to make sure you can’t use it,” Teyla told Syla.
“If I were using it, it would be to take back Harvest Island, something everyone in the Kingdom should want.”
Teyla spread her arms, then looked up the road.
Syla sensed Vorik approaching so wasn’t surprised when he appeared at her shoulder, but the grimness on his face was darker than it had been earlier.
“Everything all right?” She wondered if a conversation with his dragon had been the reason for his delay.
“It is not, no.”
“Bad news?” she asked.
Vorik waved to the side, silently requesting privacy.
Syla nodded and held up a finger, telling Vonla, “We’ll go back to Lyvor before heading to the capital. Teyla, I need to royally requisition your carriage.”
“You can have it,” she said, “as long as I can come along.”
“Of course,” Syla said before the niggling doubt about Teyla possibly being her father’s murderer returned to her mind.
But even if she had done it, that didn’t mean she couldn’t be an ally to Syla in dealing with Fograth.
“Grab some supplies out of the farmhouse. There should be plenty of food in the kitchen. Maybe even tarts and cobblers.” She smiled in Vorik’s direction.
He’d stepped to the side and his face remained grim, not brightening even at the mention of desserts.
“I’ll handle it, Your Majesty,” Vonla said, then headed into the house with Teyla.
“What happened?” Syla asked when she joined Vorik, speaking softly since the Royal Protectors remained outside with them.
“Jhiton is alive.”
She blinked. “Agrevlari told you that?”
“Yes, and I saw him.” Vorik pointed toward the cloudy night sky. “He flew over Castle Island and looked right at me.”
“Did he communicate with you?” Syla had hoped Jhiton had been dead, but after learning that the magically enhanced Lesva had survived, she wasn’t that surprised by the man’s resurrection. He’d seemed as powerful as Lesva and Vorik, if not more powerful.