City in Ruins (8 page)

“It is the folly of leaders to believe we
control only ourselves,” Cadeyrn said near my ear. He stepped back,
his gaze passing over the men and women ahead.

“Move forward!” he ordered.

We marched onward, the stifling desert closing
around us. Black-winged wyvers watched us from the sky, and a few
of the soldiers broke away from the group, leading two horses into
the desert, their swords in their hands. The horses were bait,
fresh kills used to keep the wyvers at bay.

My feet followed, the horses’ cries
chasing me. The word
loon
kept circling my head, the occasional glance
thrown my way.

The only thing I cared about were the horses.
“Is there no other way to satisfy the wyvers?” I asked.

Lochlen moved next to me, his shoulder brushing
mine. “The wyvers are predators, Stone. They need the fresh kill.
The soldiers are making the hunt easier.”

The horses cried once, a scream of despair in
the distance, and then there was silence. No one other than
Lochlen, Oran, and I heard the words they yelled in
death.

“Save us!”
they’d cried.
“We do not fight this
war!”

So many innocent lives. So many
sacrifices.

My gaze fell to my wrists. The goddesses had
given me the mark of the mage and the mark of the scribe. The marks
didn’t mean what they once did, but it didn’t stop me from rubbing
at the tattoos. It didn’t stop me from wishing I could wash them
away.

“I’m losing myself,” I told Lochlen.

His yellow-green eyes peered down at me. “The
best heroes always do.”

Chapter 9

Traveling across the bottom of the desert into
one of the port cities controlled by Sadeemia didn’t take as long
as it did to march across the Ardus into the country’s capital.
What would have taken weeks had we marched on Majesta took only
days. Sadeemia ruled two ports just below the desert, the towns
close enough to Medeisia to feel the country’s presence and far
enough from Sadeemia to feel independent. Like the town of Rolleen,
the villages we came upon—Wafer and Seasia—were made of white
washed houses built into the cliffs with bright, colorful roofs.
Unlike Rolleen, the houses were not freshly painted and the
citizens didn’t come out to greet their prince.

Curious window-shadowed gazes followed us as we
stepped free of the desert and made our way from blistering sands
to rocky cliffs, the harsh wind blowing in from the sea tousling
our sweat stained clothes and cooling our heated, red
faces.

“No parade through the streets?” Daegan
asked.

Reenah, who’d been traveling with Catriona’s
maids, fell back, her gaze on the cliff side villages. “There’s a
healthy respect for the Sadeemian monarchy here, but it isn’t as
celebrated as it would be closer to the capital. To most, Seasia
and Wafer have earned their right to independence. Not from
Sadeemia. They are too small and poor for that. But from the pomp
and regalia expected from others. People die here more often than
not, the fishing this close to the rough waters surrounding
Medeisia making it more dangerous than work close to the Sadeemian
capital.” She glanced at me. “Your healing abilities would be more
respected here than royalty. They respect what helps them
survive.”

Her words struck a chord within me. Survival
was something I understood.

Above us, seagulls flew, making quick passes
before gliding over the sea, their raucous calls following
them.

“What did the horse say when he was
tickled?”
one of the gulls asked.
“HeeHaw!”
he answered
himself before any of the other birds had a chance to
reply.

“That’s a donkey, you idiot,”
another seagull exclaimed.

At my feet, Oran snorted. “Damned
gulls.”

Smiling, I lifted my face toward the sky,
pulling back the hood of the brown cloak I’d used to protect my
face in the desert so that the wind could tug at my hair, its cool
fingers running over my scalp. There was something about the sea.
Like the forest, it spoke to me. Not in the same language as the
trees, but it spoke. It hummed, its song sinking into my bones, the
smell of salt on the air leaving my tongue wanting more.

Our group practically ran down the winding
roads to the beach below, throwing off caution and custom by
tearing off desert-tainted clothes to rinse in the sea. I’d been
modest once, but that had changed. I bathed with the rest of them,
my cracked lips stinging when the salty spray hit the desert-dried
skin. I couldn’t swim so I remained close to the shore, the waves
intimidating me. The ocean was full of power and mystery. It
reminded me of Cadeyrn.

Men and women laughed as they jumped the waves,
their glee carried away by the breeze. My eyes found the horizon,
my gaze landing on a ship anchored just off the coast. It was a
large ship with three masts.

Beside me in the shallow surf, Oran groaned,
his gaze following mine.

“It’s a beautiful ship,” I said on a
laugh.

The water that swirled around my knees was dark
and full of frothy bubbles from the waves. The sky around us was
grey, the sun hiding behind mist and clouds.

“It’s not beautiful, Stone,” Maeve groused.
“It’s not the least bit beautiful.”

Daegan threw her an amused grin. “Already green
around the gills and she ain’t even aboard it.”

Maeve splashed him, and he chased her into the
waves being careful to stay to the shallows. Lochlen had long since
disappeared into the sea, leaving us at the first sight of
water.

Reenah approached me, offering me a bar of lye
soap before wading deeper into the surf, her confidence in water
awe-inspiring. Most of the Sadeemians were comfortable with the
sea, as if they were born knowing how to swim. Even Catriona of
Henderonia glowed as she stood on the edge of the waves, Gryphon
beside her.

“She’s called the
Beatrice
,” Prince
Cadeyrn’s voice said suddenly from behind me. Glancing over my
shoulder, I found him staring at the ship, his silent approach
having startled me. He stood, his hands clasped behind his back,
his chin toward the sea.

“After your wife?” I asked.

The question was simply an invitation to tell
me more. I knew Beatrice was his deceased spouse.

His gaze fell to mine. “She’s a sturdy ship,”
he answered.

I could have spoken then. I could have agreed
with him or told him how magnificent the vessel was, but the
silence spoke more than words ever could. I’d come a long way from
the lost ambassador’s daughter who’d watched her nurse burn in the
Medeisian woods. I’d learned about life in a tragic way. Silence
was a companion of the wise.

“This will be a different kind of war, Aean
Brirg,” Cadeyrn said suddenly. “We aren’t going to New Hope to
fight. We’re going there to stop a war, everything we say and do
will be under scrutiny. Your gods may not pose a serious issue
here, but in New Hope they won’t be allowed. Save your fight for
when you return to the forests, when you’ll be face to face with
Arien. Save your fight for your uprising against my
brother.”

“We seek only tolerance,” I said, speaking of
Arien.

“You won’t find that in New Hope.” Caedyrn’s
hand found my shoulder. “Use your head, Aean Brirg.” He leaned
close. “The queen is always the most important piece.”

As quickly as he’d approached me, he left,
leaving behind a gaping hole in my heart. I cared about the prince
way more than I should.

Love was a complicated emotion. The fire was
lit in the heart, sending sparks of warmth through the veins and
down into the body. Love didn’t need to be told to care. It just
cared. Love didn’t have to be reciprocated. It just needed to be
planted and watered. Love was like a flower standing alone in a
field. As long as it was fed by the rain and could look upon the
sun, it flourished and found happiness. I was the flower. Cadeyrn
was the sun, too far away to touch, too hot to be close to, but as
long as he shone, I’d flourish. His happiness was
enough.

I would never share a life with the prince, but
he saw me as his queen. It was a beautiful and devastating place to
be. For a king must use his queen to protect himself.

I was the forest.

I was words.

I was a dragon consort.

I was a chess piece.

I was everything, and I was nothing.

Chapter 10

If the
Beatrice
was magnificent from the
shore, then she was even more magnificent up close. It took four
row boats to transport those who’d made the trip from Medeisia.
Catriona, her maids, the
herrnos
, and Gryphon were the first to
row out to the
Beatrice
. The next two boats were full of soldiers, servants, and
supplies. The last belonged to the Medeisians, Cadeyrn, and Madden.
Since leaving Medeisia, the prince had been cautious, surrounding
himself with trustworthy guards, Madden included. Personally, I
missed Ryon.

We’d barely struck out on the water when Maeve
clutched her stomach, her face taking on a decidedly green
hue.

“The sea was never meant for people,” she
mumbled, her free hand gripping the side of the row
boat.

The sea sang to me, and I glanced into the
waves. In the water, Lochlen swam, his body no longer human, his
yellow-green eyes watching me from the beneath the surface. His
golden scales brightened the sea around him. Reaching out, I let my
fingers skim the top of the water just above him. His large,
draconic eye winked at me.

“The warriors and crew who sailed
the
Beatrice
down
from Majesta won’t be comfortable with the dragon,” Madden
declared.

My gaze lifted to find the guard’s pinched face
regarding Cadeyrn’s calm visage.

“Your problem isn’t with the dragon,” I said
suddenly. “It’s with me and my choice to represent him.”

Madden’s lips pressed together, his eyes
swinging to my face. “It’s your title I have an issue
with.”

“Then loathe me,” I demanded. “I was given a
choice. Lochlen fought by your side, as a dragon and a man. The
battlefield does much to create brothers out of unrelated
men.”

“Enough,” Cadeyrn interceded. “The dragon will
cause less a stir in the sea than he will aboard the ship. He won’t
be denied access to either.” His gaze dropped to the wolf at my
feet. “Beast and man will co-exist peacefully. There’s a lot we
could learn from each other.”

Madden’s mouth snapped shut. Oran’s head
lifted, his dark eyes finding the prince. My heart swelled with
gratitude, and I studied Cadeyrn.

“Well,” Oran sighed, “it seems the prince finds
man as much an enemy as you do, Stone.”

His words rang true. I’d not been the only one
betrayed continuously by man. Cadeyrn had suffered worse. He’d seen
more bloodshed and fought more political battles than any man
should. He was a constant target, his family murdered in an attempt
to get to him.

My fingers found the wolf’s fur, gripping it.
War had stolen the prince’s humanity long before it had ever stolen
mine.

“Ho!” voices called down from
the
Beatrice.

One by one, we boarded the ship,
special care taken to get Oran on deck from the row boat below.
The
Beatrice
was
like nothing I’d ever seen. I had no experience with sea travel
other than the brief journey from Rolleen to Majesta on a
trade-cog, but I’d read about it.

This ship was a Sadeemian explorer, a large,
stable ship suited for long voyages and heavy seas. It was roomy,
big enough to carry passengers, a crew, and provisions. What I’d
thought were three masts from onshore was actually four.

“This is not ideal,” Maeve gasped. She lurched
to the side of the ship, sagging against it. Oran reclined on the
deck, his own discomfort obvious. Daegan looked sick, but he stood
tall.

I stared, my gaze traveling from the
bowsprit, the spar extending from the prow (the front of the ship)
to the stern (the back of the ship). The
Beatrice
had a dependable and strong
air about her as if the vessel had absorbed the spirit of the woman
it was named after.

My gut and my heart told me this
ship was one of Cadeyrn’s war moments, the
Beatrice
a piece of him in the same
way the items he kept hidden in a box were a piece of him, torn
fragments of his time with his son and wife. There was a piece of
me in that box, too. A ripped strip of cloth used to wipe blood and
ink away when Cadeyrn tattooed the falcon on my back.

Cries rose up from the deck, the sound shaking
me out of my reverie, as Cadeyrn’s long stride ate up the surface.
Heads bowed, some of the passengers falling to their knees on the
wooden surface as he approached.