Chapter 7 #3
“Your Majesty.” Black uniform rumpled, short black hair sticking out in all directions, the major touched a fresh scar cutting across his cheek.
Had a dragon talon done that? Or maybe Lesva’s sword.
The officer surprised her by dropping to one knee and bowing his head.
“I failed to introduce myself yesterday, but I’m Major Hixun.
On behalf of all the men who survived the battle against overpowering numbers, I thank you for fighting with us and using that strange cannonball launcher on our enemies. ”
“I… You’re welcome, Major.” Syla hadn’t expected anything except veiled hostility from the man, not after the looks he’d given the captain who’d warned her about assassins.
Was it possible he was being polite so she would lower her guard? She waved for him to rise, doubting she would get used to people dropping to a knee in front of her.
“You were brave to come along on this journey, Your Majesty, and I didn’t expect…
” Hixun glanced at the corporal, as if the young soldier might have input.
“I don’t think any of us, well, quite knew how that big marble cannon worked or thought you would stand on it in the middle of a battleground.
In the middle of dragons trying to kill you. ”
“Well, the platform is somewhat protected by the overhead canopy.”
“An arrow hit you,” the corporal said. “And that dragon-rider woman tried to kill you.”
Adoration shone in the young man’s eyes.
That wasn’t surprising since Syla had been healing him, but the major nodded as well.
His gaze wasn’t one of adoration, but it also wasn’t the distant and cold contemplation of an enemy plotting one’s demise.
It was… respectful. The fleet commander’s had been too, she realized.
At the time, she hadn’t known how to interpret his regard. Huh.
“The sides of the weapons platform could use more protection,” she said.
“It should be more like an armored carriage, don’t you think?
With a few shatter-proof windows. I wonder if my Aunt Tibby—she’s an engineer, you know—could make some adjustments.
Do you think it’s permissible to adjust a gift from the gods? ”
“Isn’t she an agricultural engineer?” Hixun asked.
“Yes, but I’m certain she could handle armoring a platform. She might even have thoughts about adding axles and wheels, maybe a whole wagon frame so it could be more easily transported.”
“It would end up looking like one of her vile man-eating tractors,” Fel said.
“A weapons platform should be vile,” Syla said. “We could paint a scary face with fangs on the top of it.”
“To answer your question, no,” Fel said, “I don’t think it’s permissible to adjust gifts from the gods. Not like that.”
“But wheels and armor would be okay?”
“I’d think so.”
Hixun stepped back from the bed. “I’ll leave you to your work and rest, Your Majesty, but we would be honored if you would attend a short ceremony we’re having for the fallen later.”
“Of course.” Syla swallowed a lump that formed in her throat at the memory of the Royal Protector who’d taken an arrow for her. How many others had died during the engagement?
“Thank you. And thank you for healing the men and also helping during the battle—you’re the only reason we survived that.
Oh.” Hixun lifted a finger as if he’d remembered something.
“You should also know that the fleet commander took teams ashore now that the storm is past, and they’re searching for the island lord and other high-status individuals and military leaders.
Before departing, he asked me to find out what your plans are for… the prisoner.”
“Captain Vorik.”
“Yes. We know who he is. And we’re uncertain why you want him held instead of executed.”
“He saved my life by fighting off Captain Lesva.”
“We were confused by that, Your Majesty. We understand that thanks to you and your dragon—” Hixun gave her another respectful nod, “—members of a rogue stormer faction assisted us, but Vorik can’t be affiliated with them. He’s General Jhiton’s right-hand man.”
“Yes, he is. From what I’ve gathered, it’s actually Captain Lesva who went rogue, in a manner of speaking. She was trying to kill me.”
“Isn’t that in line with their goals?” Hixun asked.
“Their horrible and odious goals,” the corporal said. “Queen Syla is a healer. You don’t kill healers.”
He sounded affronted on her behalf, and Syla decided that he, like the captain, probably hadn’t been on board with the assassination plot. She hoped other troops felt as they did—and that the major’s apparent change of opinion of her was in earnest.
“The queen single-handedly brought down several riders and dragons,” Hixun pointed out.
“But she removed the arrowhead in my hip and healed the puncture.” The corporal touched his side. “Even my groin pull feels better.”
“That may be because a pretty girl fell asleep sprawled across your lap.” A soldier who’d been pretending not to listen in from a nearby bunk couldn’t resist making that comment.
The corporal rolled his eyes. “She was sleeping on my legs, Froggie. Not my, you know.”
“Whatever makes you warm and tingly.”
Hixun cleared his throat. “The prisoner, Your Majesty. I’m hoping to get a little clarity.
Captain Vorik is very dangerous, and I’d rather have him dead than in a cell and wearing shackles that can’t hold him.
At the least, I would prefer he be sedated if you’re keeping him alive for some future plan.
Are there Candles of Serenity in here?” Hixun looked toward cabinets along one wall.
“I’ll have one of the medics look for some. ”
“Ah, yes.” Syla didn’t want to sedate Vorik, but she also didn’t want her military officers to execute him while she was busy healing people.
“That’s a practical suggestion, Major, but I…
want to question him.” Yes, she remembered that had been what she’d told Fel to keep Vorik alive, and it was a practical thing to do with a prisoner.
“He’s high-ranking enough that he should know all about the stormers’ plans. ”
It occurred to her that this could also be an opportunity to learn where the shielder components had been taken.
Vorik wouldn’t voluntarily answer questions related to that, and he would be upset if he betrayed his people, but she might have to coerce him, regardless.
For the moment, her fleet had Hazel Harbor and this part of Harvest Island, but until she found the missing components and Aunt Tibby made a working shielder, the Kingdom would be vulnerable to more attacks by the stormers.
Didn’t she owe it to her people to get what information she could out of Vorik? Even if it meant manipulating him?
The thought held no appeal, and he would resent her for it, but she had to consider it.
“We have someone who specializes in interrogation, Your Majesty,” Hixun said. “There’s no need for you to bother yourself with him.”
But she liked bothering herself with Vorik. Words she did not voice to the officer.
“I have some tinctures and powders that I can apply to make him more amenable to questioning.” As soon as the words came out, she realized they were truer than she’d intended.
In her trunks, she’d brought along Teyla’s finds from the storm god’s laboratory, including the hydra-scale powder.
If the medical history texts were accurate, it could be quite effective at lowering a prisoner’s mental guards.
“Have him taken from his cell and up to my cabin, please.”
“Your… what?” Hixun stared at her.
“My potions will work better to convince him to answer honestly if he’s in a relaxed environment and doesn’t feel threatened.”
“A relaxed environment? Your Majesty, we’re not in the habit of giving dangerous prisoners pillows and blankets and apple cotlets.”
“No? I think apple cotlets would help loosen his tongue. Vorik likes sweets.”
Hixun’s mouth opened, but he didn’t seem to know what to say. He looked stunned. She herself had been bemused to learn that the fearsome and deadly Captain Vorik had a sweet tooth. A fruit tooth, as she’d called it before.
“Put him in my cabin,” Syla said again. “As you suggested, I’ll prepare Candles of Serenity.”
“Your cabin isn’t secure, Your Majesty,” Hixun protested. “It has portholes.”
“Yes, they’re delightful. Put him in there with shackles and guards, please. Remember, I’ve also got Wreylith onboard to help me. She’ll pluck open the portlight and snatch Vorik up in her talons if he tries to do anything to me or jump overboard and escape.” Syla pointed upward.
“I don’t know, Your Majesty.” Hixun rubbed the back of his neck.
Agrevlari is attempting to seduce me by promising to retrieve horn hogs or offering to show me an excellent hunting spot on this island that he’s discovered, Wreylith said, as if she’d been listening in on the conversation from her position perched above decks. Maybe she had been.
Are his seduction attempts likely to work?
No, I told him that if he comes close, I’d bite his tail off while you pummel him with the death launcher.
Is that… what you’re calling the weapons platform?
It is what he is calling it now. It is an appropriate name.
I suppose it is. Syla regretted that she’d used it to kill.
With every death, human and dragon, it seemed her people were driven further and further away from a potential future treaty with the stormers, but maybe she was foolish to have ever believed one might be possible.
When they’d first invaded, murdering her siblings and mother, hadn’t that turned what had been a rift into an uncrossable chasm?
If not for Vorik, she might not have an iota of sympathy for any of them.
They will seek to destroy it, Wreylith said.
Good luck to them. When your allies delivered it, they dropped it a thousand feet, and it didn’t so much as chip a corner.
It is sturdy, but nothing is indestructible. They will seek a method to render it inoperable.
After we restore the shielder to this island, we’ll return the weapons platform to the protection of Castle Island. We just need to find those components. And I intend to do so. Soon.
She meant the words but wondered if there was any way to achieve the goal without drugging Vorik. She didn’t want to betray him, nor did she want him to betray his people. Why was everything she wanted with him so difficult?