Dragon Blood (Hurog #2) - Page 8

8 – WARDWICK

What you do when no one is watching reveals your true character.

Day by day I was failing, hour by hour it was harder to ride the pain. The greater portion of the panic gripping me had nothing to do with the herbs in the water I drank; I lost hope.

Oreg, where are you?

Sometimes the demons brought me back to my cell when the morning sun trickled through the small, grated window far above me. I would stare at the pale light on the straw because the window hurt my eyes. In my more cognizant moments I realized they weren't letting me sleep.

At some point I quit eating the food they left, but I managed to remember that the water was important, and I gagged it down before crawling to my straw cave.

I could tell it was almost time for the monsters by the relative clearness of my thoughts. The door opened and I tried to pretend I wasn't there, burrowing into the straw until they couldn't find me.

But it wasn't the usual monsters, because the door shut, leaving the intruder caged with me. The break in routine was frightening and the resulting adrenaline rush sent me to my feet.

A woman stood just inside the door in a plain woolen robe. In her right hand she held a wooden rake.

"Tisala." The small voice spoke for the first time in a long time, but it was virtually lost in the sea of terror that drowned me. It hadn't taken long to learn that anything new was bad.

She walked in tentatively, a horrible creature with seven heads who was going to poison me with the tears that tracked down her face. I scuttled away from her as far as I could, but she kept coming.

"Tis," I said, though I hadn't planned on saying anything at all. "Stay back. Please?" If she tried to touch me, I knew I would die. But the little voice had been forced out of hiding for fear I would hurt her.

She backed away then, and left me to my safe haven while she raked out the straw that didn't belong to my nest. I stood glued to the far wall, shaking.

When she left, I wept as she had, but I didn't know why. I didn't stop until the monsters came again.

They held my head under the water this time, but I didn't struggle because Jade Eyes told me not to. I held my breath until I passed out. Then they – and I – did it again.

This was something new, and in my drugged exhaustion it seemed perfectly sane to peer through the depths of the water and look for … safety, sanity, I don't know what. It seemed to me that I could see it just on the outside of my vision.

"See what?" Jade Eyes asked, after I awoke coughing and choking the second time.

I blinked at him like an idiot; even after four years, the mask of stupidity I wore throughout my youth was more at home on my face than not. Tosten liked to tease me about it.

Tosten. Hurog.

"Something to fill the hole in me," I said, realizing after I said it that it was true. I rolled off the wet bench and back into the water without help this time.

Hurog, I thought Dragon, come take me.

Dragon claws snatched at me, dragon magic, filled me for a moment. I knew this dragon.

"Oreg!" I screamed underwater.

Then between one instant and the next it was gone, and the hole that separation from Hurog always left inside me was all the emptier for having once been filled. It was infinitely worse than the pain in my head, and some part of me believed that I would never be whole again. That this time they would succeed in taking Hurog from me.

A hand, not dragon claws, hauled me out of the water and strapped me down to the table in the center of the room.

"Did you feel that? asked Jade Eyes excitedly to his fellow mage. "That's what his magic felt like on the trip over here. Have you ever felt anything like it?"

I cried for Oreg's loss. Even in the state I was in, I realized that Oreg had tried to rescue me – and he'd failed. There would be no rescue. And if Oreg couldn't rescue me, no one could.

"It was unusual," said Arten. "But Jakoven was firm that we break him. I think we've done it. The drugs should be mostly out of his system and he still threw himself into the water that last time. I suppose he might be trying to kill himself, but that flare of magic …"

"He was looking for something," said Jade Eyes, petting my forehead. "Weren't you, Ward?"

His voice was so soft and soothing, I couldn't help but reply. "Dragons," I said, sobbing out the words. "The dragon is gone."

Arten nodded abruptly. "I'll be back with Jakoven," he said. "Amuse yourself until I return at his convenience. Don't take him back to his cell. I'll tell Jakoven you've managed to re-create the effect you noticed bringing him here. But I think he's impatient to get on with his plans." On those words he left me alone with Jade Eyes.

Amuse himself Jade Eyes did. And it was different this time. The knowledge that not even Oreg could get me out had broken some hard core of resistance. The thin veneer, the shadow of my old mask that I wore to protect myself, crumbled completely and there was nothing left to save me. I screamed when the pain flamed through my body, robbing me of all control. I sobbed for it to stop, then sobbed and shook when it did and the pain was replaced by caressing hands. I wished fervently for the pain rather than the sure knowledge that it would begin again, and over and over I received my wish.

It was during one of the "rest" periods that Jakoven finally came. I didn't hear him enter, didn't notice him until he struck me lightly on the face.

"Ah, Ward, my boy. Good to see you," he said.

I stared at him blankly, far past worrying about the newly familiar smells that accompanied Jade Eyes entertainments: feces and urine, blood and sweat. Nor was I concerned about the tears that continued to slide down my cheeks, though I was aware that all of these things would once have embarrassed me – especially the tears.

"Hurogs don't cry." It was not my inner voice who spoke, but an older one. It took me a moment to remember that my father was dead and I didn't need to hate him anymore.

I think Jakoven thought the heat in my eyes was directed at him, not realizing I was almost beyond recognizing who he was.

"Do you know why you are here?"

No, I thought. "Hurog," I said in a voice so hoarse and deep that it must have been difficult to understand. Then the tissues of my throat, swollen from screaming, closed up, and I couldn't utter another word.

Jakoven looked away from me and said, "Leave us. Stay, Jade Eyes."

The room emptied. I hadn't realized until then that there was anyone else in it but the king, Jade Eyes, and me, but a number of mage robes passed by my eye.

When they were gone, Jakoven pulled up a stool and sat by my head so I could see him. The Tallvenish king who ruled the Five Kingdoms including my own Shavig was, in many ways, the epitome of what a king should be. His voice was rich and carrying, the kind of voice that could encourage armies in battle. His face was regular without being handsome – the face of a general, perhaps, or a … well, a king.

"Arten tells me that you've amazed my Jade Eyes, who thinks you've happened upon a new form of magic." The king shook his head with a kingly smile. "He's young yet, and hasn't met many self-taught mages – as I have." He reached out with a clean white cloth and wiped my cheeks, but I continued to cry without knowing why. "When a mage teaches himself magic, he has little control, leaking power he should capture and use. Your father really should have sent you out for training. I doubt you even know when you set up your magic guardian to watch your sleep – that's what gives it the feeling of sentience he received."

"But – " protested Jade Eyes.

"Quiet, my lad. You're young yet and convinced you know all the answers. I know the guardian spell is advanced – but someone thought it up once. I imagine they did it in much the same way our young friend here did. Poor boy." He crooned to me and kissed me.

I gagged and jerked, but the king was thorough and the bonds that held me were tight. Fear shook me, sweeping up from my feet and to my head, leaving me light headed and dizzy. Fear of the king, fear of the pain, fear of what new thing they were going to do.

I heard Jade Eyes say something, but I didn't pay attention.

"Jealous?" asked the king, pulling away from me. "Foolish boy. Now get me that bag on the top shelf – no, not that one. The small one. Thank you."

I couldn't see the bag with my head restrained. And the king settled back so I couldn't hear him, either, just felt the feather-light touch of his ringers on my forehead.

"Did you know that Hurog means dragon in old Shavig?" said the king. My stomach wove itself another knot. "Why do you think that is?"

I didn't say anything, but Jade Eyes answered, "Because when there were dragons, they nested near Hurog, I suppose."

"Mmm," said the king. "There are stories about Hurog. That the dragons are drawn there by a magical stone, deep in the heart of Hurog."

The only thing that had been in Hurog's heart was the bones of a dragon, and I'd taken care of that when I used the bones to heal the sick earth.

"I've heard that one," said Jade Eyes.

"When I asked the Hurogmeten – the real Hurogmeten, this one's father – about it, he laughed and said there was nothing in Hurog to attract a dragon. I've since come to believe he was right – but there's a grain of truth in some old folklore. Some years ago during the renovations of the castle here at Estian, my stone mason, rest his soul, came across a curious thing. He brought it to my attention shortly before he died."

Broken I might be, but I found myself wondering why Jakoven felt it necessary to remind Jade Eyes that he could kill anyone he chose.

Maybe, I thought, in sympathy with Oreg's formerly suicidal tendencies for the first time, maybe Jakoven would choose to kill me. I didn't believe it, really, just hoped for it.

I heard the rustle of cloth. Jade Eyes gasped, and a cold fog of dark magic crawled through my skin, dirtying me inside and out.

"I keep it here in this special bag, so that no one would ever be curious about it – as you must have noticed, it was difficult for you to find even after I directed you to it. Do you recognize it?"

"No, sire," said Jade Eyes, fear or excitement tightening his voice. "It's very old – and powerful."

"How about you, boy?"

A hand appeared in my field of view holding a bronze staff head. Mages liked to top their staves with elaborate metal sculptures, usually just expensive toys encrusted with gems and glass beads. This wasn't even impressive, just a crude rendering of a dragon holding a small gem in its open mouth. With a body length of distance no one would have even noticed the dull, cloudy gem the size of a pea, much less that it hovered between the dragon's jaws without touching the metal anywhere. Without being mageborn, no one would have noticed the black power spilling from the gem. I could almost see the wave of misery that flowed out to cover me like thick syrup.

I knew what it was, though not how it survived. Anyone who'd ever listened to the tale of the Empire's Fall would have recognized it. Jade Eyes must not have a taste for music or old tales.

"Tell him what it is, Ward, if you know." I didn't have to see Jakoven's face to hear the smile in his voice.

Maybe if my throat hadn't closed up from screaming I would have complied. But then again, maybe if my throat hadn't closed up from screaming it would have closed up from fear. Not the nameless fear for myself that had troubled me so only moments ago, but directed, heart-wrenching fear for all that I loved.

"Ah, children. How undereducated you are. This is the Empirebane, Destroyer of Cities, also called Farsonsbane. The greatest mage ever known, Farson Whitehair, took the blood of three dragons and concentrated it into this small stone – an experiment. Years later it was stolen and enemies of the Empire used it to bring down the stone buildings and walls of the great cities and crumbled them to ashes. Farson recovered it and hid it, vowing that no one would use it again."

I'd heard that the Last Emperor, a boy of twelve, had stolen it and hidden it until he could recover it. But he and his remaining bodyguards were found. They died without revealing where it was. Either way, it made a good story.

"Farsonsbane?" Jade Eye's voice was incredulous, but not doubting – the power of the thing was palpable. "I thought it would be made of gold, and the gem was supposed to be the size of my fist. My servant has gems more impressive."

The magic gathering around the bane wasn't growing, I finally realized, it was exploring. I shuddered as the rich darkness slipped through my defenses and tasted my magic greedily. How ironic that Jade Eyes would mistake Oreg for some sort of sentient magic, and not recognize this. I'd felt magic like this before, on Menogue and at Hurog.

"Your servant's gem couldn't flatten a city the size of Estian with a word. Show some respect." The king removed the staff head from my sight but the magic stayed.

"Too bad you can't use it," said Jade Eyes. "It must be fed with dragon's blood, and there are no more dragons."

The king's stool creaked and he said, "There is an interesting thing I ran into while doing my research. It was something so insignificant, I almost didn't pay attention to it. How old is Hurog keep?"

I could almost hear the shrug in Jade Eye's voice. "It's old, maybe the fifth century after Empire? That would make it eight hundred years."

Earlier than that, I thought. Far earlier.

"There are books in my private library that were written during the time of the Empire, and one of them mentions Hurog. Calls it the Dragon's Keep." I could hear Jakoven's nail tapping on something metallic, maybe it was the staff head. "There is a story that the first few Emperors had a mage who was a dragon. There are also old stories that claim the lord of Hurog is a dragon. So what do you think, Ward? Are you descended from that mage? Do you have dragon's blood?"

He cut my arm, just a little. And mopped up the blood with the same cloth he'd wiped my face with. I didn't see what he did with it, but I presumed it was to wipe the red smear against the gemstone because something happened.

Jade Eyes exclaimed loudly and the king's stool fell to the ground. The power that had been examining me changed, just a little. Just for a moment it recognized me.

"Hurog?" it said, resonating soundlessly in my skull. "Dragon?"

And something deep inside of me answered the call before the magic of Farsonsbane was abruptly cut off.

"It's not supposed to do that," exclaimed Jakoven. "The records specifically say the stone flares with red light as it is touched by dragon's blood. But this is the first response I've gotten from it."

"Blue," said Jade Eyes assessingly. He walked near to me until I could see him. "Your blood turned the stone from black to blue." He looked across me at Jakoven. "Did you try your own blood? Perhaps mageblood affects it."

"My blood does nothing to it," Jakoven replied. "I've tried." I saw a flutter of cloth out of the corner of my eye as the king walked past me. I heard him replace the bag on the shelves.

"Ah, Ward," Jakoven said, kissing my forehead. "You have answered my most fervent wish. For ten years that artifact sat upon my shelves waiting to be awakened."

He pushed back from me and I heard him pick up his stool and set it upright.

"Well enough," he said briskly, as if the raw lust in his voice had never been. "Arten tells me you are ready, Jade Eyes. And any fool could see he is broken. But I want him stupid and happy. Make sure he can speak, eh?"

"Right," agreed Jade Eyes. "We've been experimenting with drugs to get the proper effect. We'll give him a little sorcerer's root to make sure no one could ever mistake him for normal and top it off with a few things to make him happy."

"Good. See that it is done."

It was a beautiful day, the crisp shill of late fall drifting clean and pure into my lungs. I told the guards that as they helped feed me into a covered two-wheeled cart that was to take us to Court.

I told the big Tamerlain who sat rumbling on my feet. It bothered them when I talked to her, though, because they couldn't see her.

"Gods take you, shut up," said one. "Are we going to have to listen to this all the way to the Castle?"

Surprised, I looked up from the big animal stretched across the floor of the cart.

"Look at him," he said to his comrade. "To smile like that with tears running down his face …"

"Relax," grunted the other guard. "He's been shut up in the Asylum for almost a week. He's not used to the light, and his eyes are tearing up. It'll go away soon."

The Tamerlain sat up on her hindquarters and placed a forepaw on either side of me. The cart didn't shift with her movements the way it did with mine – as if the Tamerlain had no weight at all.

"I'm sorry, Ward," she said into my smile. "But it's time."

As she spoke, fire lit my blood and licked up my body, icy fire that burned impurities and nerves alike. Sweat poured from my skin and stung my eyes, mucus blocked my breath.

"Damn it, he's having convulsions," grumbled the second guard, though he made no move to come near me. "If the stupid mages did something to him that kills him – you and I know who's going to get the blame."

The worst of it was over by the time the horses stopped. I stumbled shakily out of the carriage to face a back entrance to the king's palace, truly sober for the first time since I'd drunk from the general's waterskin.

The guards hauled me unceremoniously up a narrow stairway and into a back room where a hot bath was waiting. They stripped my filthy clothes off and scrubbed me with rough cloths. Wrapped shivering in a bath sheet, I sat on a stool while one of them shaved me clean. There was some discussion about cutting my hair, but they decided it was a Shavig affectation, toweled it dry, and brushed it into a queue. The Tamerlain watched, unnoticed – Oreg could do the same thing. I took care not to look at her directly. And I smiled the whole while until my cheeks ached with the strain.

The clothes they gave me to wear were all black and plain, though expensive. The boots they pulled on my feet were my own, though they'd been polished to a higher gloss than I'd had them. They covered me with a hooded cloak and shuffled me out the door and into the hall. The hood kept me from seeing much about where I was going, but that was fine. It gave me more time to think. And I needed to think.

The king wanted me so he could work Farsonsbane. He wasn't about to give me up.

But there was something else he wanted. Today the king told Jade Eyes to make sure I was happy and stupid. The Tamerlain had told me that Jakoven would present me before his court – no, that wasn't it.

I stopped abruptly and someone pushed me forward.

Abruptly my forehead broke out with sweat and a flash of heat swept from my feet to my head, robbing my joints of their strength as it passed. I slumped to the floor. The Tamerlain nudged me anxiously.

"What is wrong with me?" I whispered.

"Your body has begun to crave the drugs they fed you," she said. "I can do nothing for this."

Jakoven's men scrambled. From their words I understood that Jakoven had commanded me to be in a presentable condition when I was brought before the court. The only thing he wanted the court to see was that my mind was broken – not my body.

They brought a bucket of water and washed my face with cold, damp cloths, careful not to muck up the clothes. I grabbed the bucket from them and drank to assuage my dry throat. When they helped me to my feet, I let them steady me.

I was weak, so I leaned upon the men who led me, saving my strength for when it was needed. The Tamerlain walked in front of us, pausing every few steps to watch me worriedly. The halls we traversed were unfamiliar, but I was more interested in getting to the stage of Jakoven's drama than I was in observing the sights. I had acted many roles, but this was going to be the performance of a lifetime – if I could manage it.

My guard stopped before an inconspicuous door, and one of them stepped through it, closing it behind him – but not before I glimpsed the tumult of people in the formal hall. I took a deep steadying breath as I heard Jakoven's voice, only slightly muffled by the door.

"My lord Duraugh, my chamberlain tells me you have been waiting for some time. We are sorry for it. Please come forward now with your family and receive Our apologies." There was a pause, and I supposed my uncle was following the king's directions.

"Well now, Duraugh, what brings you here?"

"I am here, my king, at your bidding and to inquire about my nephew, the Hurogmeten." My uncle's voice cut through the closed door as easily as it cut through a battlefield.

And finally I realized the whole of what Jakoven intended. He wanted to present the court with a Hurogmeten who was stupid so they'd see why he couldn't leave Hurog in my hands. That would leave me in his power. The Tamerlain's magic had given me the chance to counter his plot.

But my uncle knew I wasn't an idiot. Without warning of my condition, he might have done something unpolitical – like accuse the king of damaging me.

But I wasn't going to go into court under the influence of Jade Eye's drugs.

"Ah, yes. Ward of Hurog." Jakoven spoke as if he had forgotten about me, as if I were of only minor interest to him. "We were reminded that at one time the boy was considered unfit. We have not seen him since you set him to run Hurog and We decided that such an important post could not be held by an imbecile."

"My brother is no imbecile," snapped Tosten. The pause before he added "my king" was too long.

Panic froze me in place. Tosten was here.

My uncle was good at court politics: As long as there was no obvious blood, no signs of torture, I could count on him to keep a cool head. My brother would take one look at me, too thin and barely strong enough to stand on my feet, and he'd do something rash.

"I'm sure you're right," purred Jakoven.

My brother let out a low rumble that sounded for all the world like the growl of a dog.

If I waited here any longer the king would incite Tosten to riot even without my haggard appearance to help. I'd have to count upon Uncle to control Tosten.

The men I leaned so heavily against were not prepared for my sudden shove. I stepped around them and through the door, which opened just below the royal dais.

"Of course I'm not an imbecile," I said cheerfully, striding into the room. "As our most gracious majesty has discovered for himself."

I bowed low before the king and then turned to face the court. The Tamerlain stood close to me and I let her brace me.

"Our king has been a very gracious host the past week." I pulled the time frame from the guard's comment as we traveled from the Asylum. As far as I was concerned, it could have been months or years since I'd left Hurog. "And I hope that I have satisfied him as to my fitness to rule. As he told me earlier today, I should have presented myself formally to him a long time ago, but I've had my hands busy rebuilding my keep. I suppose I could have left it to the dwarves"  –  I paused to remind Jakoven that I had allies he hadn't considered – "but it was my fault that Hurog fell. It seemed my duty to see it arise again."

I glanced over at my family, who stood tense and still at the front of the court, arrayed before the king, and smiled convincingly at them. The hard pump of battle fever and the Tamerlain were the only thing keeping me upon my feet.

The lords present, including many Shavigmen, nodded and smiled at my reminder of my role in stopping the Vorsag invasion and the cost Hurog had paid for it. I'd made mention of the dwarves, who had come from the mists of legend to reappear at Hurog. Many of the Shavigmen, at least, had seen them. I noticed that there were several of the more powerful Shavigmen who moved through the crowd to stand at my uncle's right. If this didn't play right, it wasn't only my family who'd suffer. I set the smile in my eyes and wondered how to get out of the room and take my family with me.

"I see you, Hurogmeten," growled a deep voice, and I turned to face the Warder of the Sea, the highest-ranking Seaforder, whom I knew only by sight. He seldom came to court, being needed to run his shipping empire. "It would have been Seaford that the Vorsag would have eaten after they digested Oranstone. We remember what you did." He bowed low twice. Once to the king and once to me.

I wondered if he knew that I was circumventing the king and wanted to help – or if his words meant no more than was said. Either way I was grateful, because the cheer that followed his pronouncement gave Jakoven no choice.

I turned back to the king, my face a careful blank. "I trust that I have settled any doubts that you have, my king."

He looked from me to the smiling court. "I have no doubts about you, Wardwick of Hurog," he said graciously.

I bowed once again, carefully so as not to upset my precarious balance. As I stood upright, my eyes met Jade Eyes's gaze and knew bloodlust. Child of my father that I was, the desire for Jade Eyes' death momentarily consumed me.

The king waved his hand in dismissal and called to his chamberlain for his next case as if he'd forgotten about me. But I saw the white-knuckled grip he had on his throne as I walked past him toward my family. I put a casual arm about Tosten's shoulders and whispered "Out, now" around my wide smile.

Tosten slid his arm under my cloak and unobtrusively half carried me out of the court. Beckram and Duraugh fended off well-wishers, so when Tosten dragged me into the corridor, we were alone.

"Someplace out of sight. Quickly," I said, feeling the weakness increasing in my knees.

Tosten leaned me against a wall and jerked open several doors. He hauled me through the last one, shutting the door behind us. Light came through the open windows from the garden and I could smell the faint scent of autumn roses. I sat abruptly and concentrated on breathing.

"You've lost weight," observed Tosten, crouching next to me where I'd collapsed on the floor. "But you're still too heavy for me to carry."

I nodded, but instead of speaking I wrapped my arms around myself and tried to quit shaking. He said something more, but I couldn't hear it because the sound of my heartbeat drowned it out. After a few minutes the shaking eased and I rested my head against the wall in relief.

"We can't stay here forever," said Tosten. "Someone's bound to notice."

"How far are we from your rooms?" I asked.

"We're not staying here. Duraugh rented a house – I gave him the money from the strongbox in your study to help pay for your rescue. I hope that was right."

I didn't want to sleep under Jakoven's roof, but I didn't see how I was going to get from here to a rented house without causing a scene.

"How do I look?" I asked.

"Like you've been poisoned and are waiting to die," said Tosten. "But in the dim light in the corridors of the palace, I don't think that anyone who didn't know you would notice. It's getting dark outside as well. I think we can get you out without attracting attention."

I slid myself up the wall with Tosten's help. When my legs didn't immediately collapse under me, I walked slowly to the door. "Did you bring horses, or am I going to have to crawl all the way there?"

"Horses," said Tosten, wedging a shoulder under my arm. "Uncle Duraugh, in a fit of optimism or a show for the audience – I'm never sure with him – even brought an extra for you."

When we stepped back out of the room, Duraugh and Beckram were in the hall waiting. Neither of them spoke, but I had learned to recognized the slight tightness in Duraugh's cheek that denoted white-hot rage, and Beckram was shaking with it.

"I'm all right," I said, though it was patently untrue. Beckram slid under my free shoulder and helped with the task of getting my unwilling body out of the castle.

There were things I needed to know, things I needed to tell them all, but I contented myself with staggering to the stables. The grooms tactfully didn't notice that I had to lean against the wall while my brother pointed out the horses to be saddled. They'd put it down to too much drink, unless someone questioned them, and forget about it before the day was over.

When Tosten appeared with Feather, I buried my head against her neck and let the clean smell of horse wash away the stink of the Asylum. I tried twice to mount on my own, and if Feather had been any lighter, I'd probably have pulled her over. Beckram, with a shoulder in my rump, made my third attempt successful.

I don't remember riding through the gates or arriving at the house. I do remember being met at the door by Oreg, who picked me up and carried me up the stairs as if I didn't weigh half again what he did.

They fussed over me for a while, my brother, cousin, and uncle, while I scrubbed in an oaken tub, then sat while Oreg went through my hair with a comb to rid me of lice and nits – which the king's men hadn't bothered to do.

"Ciarra and I have a daughter," said Beckram, leaning back on his stool to keep out of Oreg's way. "Three days ago. I just found out today."

I looked out from under the clean wet hair Oreg had thrown over my eyes. For a minute we grinned at each other.

"Does she have a name yet?" I asked, stammering a bit.

"Leehan," he answered. "After the spirit of the woods."

"There are a lot of your men here. Is she at Hurog?" Surely they wouldn't have brought her all the way to Hurog when she was so near to delivering.

"No. We left half the guard there – she said she was fine