Read Dragon and Phoenix Online
Authors: Joanne Bertin
Dragon and Phoenix (25 page)
If only she didn’t have to stay within the confines of this little house and its tiny grounds, hidden away within his mansion’s compound. Uncle Jhanun was so old-fashioned! It would be nice to see other people besides Zuia the Cold and the tutors. She wondered if anyone else even knew she was here. No one ever came to visit.
Nama rolled her shoulders once more and prepared to practice her calligraphy anew.
The clicking of the worry beads was loud in the quiet of his room. Taren paced the floor, the string of beads looping endlessly through his nervous fingers.
Of all the cursed bad luck! The last two things he’d thought he’d have to face—teaching the damned Dragonlords Jehangli and riding one of their blasted horses—and both in barely more than a candlemark.
Still, he should have read that trail even before it was blazed. Both things followed the decision to send the Dragonlords as logically and inevitably as thunder followed lightning. This farce of playing the humble, heroic, ailing near-hermit was dulling his wits. And that was the one thing he could
not
afford. Here he had no weapons save those same wits.
not
afford. Here he had no weapons save those same wits.
The beads moved so quickly now, their clicking sounded like the little bones in a Zharmatian rattle. It was not a comforting resemblance. Taren dropped the beads into his belt pouch. He did not stop pacing.
So—what could he do? Teach them nonsense words? No, he’d likely trip himself up; at least one would remember that
oogfa
didn’t mean the same thing as it had two days before, may they writhe under the Phoenix’s claws. Gallant fools Dragonlords might be, running to that dragon’s rescue, but they were not stupid.
oogfa
didn’t mean the same thing as it had two days before, may they writhe under the Phoenix’s claws. Gallant fools Dragonlords might be, running to that dragon’s rescue, but they were not stupid.
Teach them some obscure Jehangli dialect instead? He knew a few from his work for Lord Jhanun. A lovely idea, but one that had two edges; the first time they realized that most Jehangli couldn’t understand them, nor could they understand most Jehangli, the game would be up.
No, he’d have to teach the damned weredragons to speak proper Jehangli. The thought left a sour taste in his mouth.
One problem, if not solved, then disposed of. Next was the matter of riding a Llysanyin. True, he’d tricked truehumans, truedragons, and Dragonlords thus far, but dumb animals might be another matter. Taren remembered how his brother’s hound had growled and bared its fangs whenever it saw him. A wise beast—far wiser than its master had been.
So how—?
The answer was so sudden and so simple that Taren nearly laughed aloud.
Baisha
might consider a Llysanyin no more than his due, but Taren, the former slave, would never dream of riding a Dragonlord’s mount.
Baisha
might consider a Llysanyin no more than his due, but Taren, the former slave, would never dream of riding a Dragonlord’s mount.
To celebrate, Taren sauntered over to the table and poured a goblet of Pelnaran wine. This, he thought as he watched the dark red wine cascade from the flask, would be the only thing he’d miss about the north.
He raised the goblet in a toast to himself and drank. Then he called to his servant in the outer room, saying, “I would ask you to carry a message to His Grace, Linden Rathan, please … .”
The smell of rain hung heavy in the air tonight; the herd would be coming in early. Linden led the new troupe out to the pastures in the soft dusk. Balls of coldfire lit the way around them, dancing in the chilly air.
Linden stopped at the gate. He called down one of the bobbing globes to shed more light on the gate latch. Lleld and Jekkanadar leaned on the top rail of the fence, gazing into the pasture; Maurynna followed their lead. Behind him Linden heard Otter clear his throat for what seemed the dozenth time since they’d turned onto the trail leading to the upper pastures. He looked back.
“Out with it,” he said, one hand resting on the latch. “What’s wrong?”
Great-uncle and grandnephew exchanged a long look. Raven jerked his head abruptly at his great-uncle as if to say, “
You
explain,” and studied an elderberry bush by the stream that ran through the pastures. But for all his seeming nonchalance, Linden saw the tension in the young man’s stance, the shoulders tight and rigid beneath the blue cloak, how the long hands clenched by his side.
You
explain,” and studied an elderberry bush by the stream that ran through the pastures. But for all his seeming nonchalance, Linden saw the tension in the young man’s stance, the shoulders tight and rigid beneath the blue cloak, how the long hands clenched by his side.
Otter slid an unheeded—and sour—glance at his grandnephew. “
You’re
the one who’s so eager for this, I’ll remind you.”
You’re
the one who’s so eager for this, I’ll remind you.”
Raven ignored him. His whole attention now focused on the rabbit settling under the bush as if to forever burn it upon his memory. Linden doubted if he’d ever found a rabbit so fascinating before in his life, or would again.
“I’ll remember this, boy,” the bard muttered and gave in. “Ah, Linden—while Shan has let me ride him a few times, I know that the Llysanyins will usually only bear Dragonlords. Are you certain that … ?”
Linden raised an eyebrow in amusement. “That we’ll find some willing to bear you two? No, I’m not certain. That’s why we’re here. I’ll admit it would be simpler if, like Taren, you two insisted on riding ordinary horses. But we need at least one more Llysanyin with us; Miki is so little that she’d look silly in a
caelah
.”
caelah
.”
“What’s that?” Maurynna asked.
“Yerrin for a kind of dance for four people; it also refers to a performance of four horses,” Linden said.
“Now, Otter and Raven—first I’ll explain to the herd what we want; then
you two will walk among them. They will choose, not you. Remember that.” He pushed the gate open and led the way inside. “And remember that most—if not all—will choose
not
to.”
you two will walk among them. They will choose, not you. Remember that.” He pushed the gate open and led the way inside. “And remember that most—if not all—will choose
not
to.”
The mixed herd of Llysanyins and horses, led by Shan, Boreal, and Lleld and Jekkanadar’s mounts, Miki and Hillel, ambled down the hill toward them. Once all the troupe were inside, Linden latched the gate carefully once more and went to meet the animals. Shan came up eagerly, stuck his nose under Linden’s cloak and sniffed his belt pouch.
“No apples,” Linden said.
The stallion’s ears went back.
“Stop that, silly,” Maurynna said as she joined Linden. She paused to rub the black nose. “There weren’t enough for everyone; it would have been rude.” Boreal came up and rested his chin on her shoulder. Miki and Hillel joined their people as well.
Shan’s ears flicked back and forth, allowing as how that might be so but he expected one later in private. He permitted Linden to scratch along the crest of his neck; Linden smiled and perversely went for the most ticklish spot at the base of the mane. Shan’s nose reached skyward and his trembling upper lip stretched out and out. He looked remarkably silly.
Linden surveyed the mixed herd before them. There were two Llysanyins missing, a granddam and one of her many grandsons. Linden decided to give them a little more time. The mare had been the last mount of Mercen Evraene before he died, a Dragonlord who had also been a bard. Perhaps, when she saw Otter’s red bard’s cloak … Linden could only hope.
He continued rubbing Shan’s neck. The two missing Llysanyins did not appear. When he judged enough time had passed, Linden stopped, his hand resting on the stallion’s shoulder.
“Enough. We’ve come to you on serious business,” he announced.
Every Llysanyin who had been cropping grass or otherwise occupied stopped, their attention now on Linden. Many looked at the truehumans in the party and then at each other. As always, Linden wondered just how much the breed could think; he could have sworn many of those exchanged looks said
What have truehumans to do with us?
Some herded the ordinary horses away. This was not their business and they would be a distraction.
What have truehumans to do with us?
Some herded the ordinary horses away. This was not their business and they would be a distraction.
When the herders returned, Linden began, all the while keeping an eye out for the two missing Llysanyins. Still not here, but he could wait no longer. “You saw the truedragons fly south, didn’t you?”
Heads nodded. The Llysanyins waited.
“You saw when they returned.”
A number of heads turned away. Linden knew the intelligent Llysanyins would have seen—and likely understood—what it had meant when the beaten and crippled remnant of that once-proud army had passed by on their way
home. And no doubt many Llysanyins had listened as their Dragonlord partners or the stablehands discussed the matter before them.
home. And no doubt many Llysanyins had listened as their Dragonlord partners or the stablehands discussed the matter before them.
“It’s been decided that Dragonlords will now go to far-off Jehanglan to help the captive truedragon Pirakos. And that’s where we need your help.” Now he saw the missing two standing on the edge of the small Llysanyin herd and pitched his voice to carry to them. “We need two Llysanyins willing to carry truehumans”—some Llysanyins immediately turned away; well and well, Linden admitted to himself, he’d expected it—“and willing to pretend to be nothing more than ordinary horses.” He paused to let the remaining Llysanyins consider his words.
Shan, Miki, and Hillel were used to such subterfuge, he knew; Linden did not always travel openly as a Dragonlord, and neither did Lleld and Jekkanadar. Inexperienced Boreal would follow their lead and learn quickly.
The granddam and her grandson moved a little closer. Linden’s hopes rose with each slow step; they were the only two who seemed interested. They were striking animals, black with iron grey manes and tails. Linden had seen many such before, but those had been true greys whose coats and manes had lightened to white with passing years. These two had kept the unusual coloring; Linden didn’t think anything but a Llysanyin could.
They were set off by more than their unusual coloring as well. Chailen, the head groom, called them the closest things to hermits he’d ever seen among horse or Llysanyin. They cared little for the company of others, preferring to always graze by themselves, pointedly moving away if any Llysanyin or horse came too close. And always they moved in unison as if sharing a single mind.
“Odd animals,” had been Chailen’s considered judgment. That from a
kir
who had worked with Llysanyins and their many quirks since he was a youngster.
kir
who had worked with Llysanyins and their many quirks since he was a youngster.
Let us hope that “oddness” extends to carrying truehumans
, Linden thought. “There is more you should know,” he continued. “There will be a voyage aboard a ship.”
, Linden thought. “There is more you should know,” he continued. “There will be a voyage aboard a ship.”
More Llysanyins left. Miki tried to scuttle away; Lleld grabbed her tail. The little blood bay mare hung her head.
“You’d think we were threatening you with the knacker,” Lleld said in disgust. “This will be fun.”
Miki stared over her shoulder at her person.
“Truly,” Lleld coaxed. “We’re going to be performers again.”
While the promise cheered Miki, Linden saw many heads go up in consternation. “Lleld Kemberaene,” he announced, “will tell you what else you need to know.”
Though she was startled, Lleld quickly recovered as Linden knew she would. She vaulted into a handstand on Miki’s broad back, then eased down until she sat. When every Llysanyin eye was on her, she began.
Trust Lleld,
Linden thought as he stepped back,
to make a performance of this.
Linden thought as he stepped back,
to make a performance of this.
Do you think any of them will agree?
Maurynna said in his mind as Lleld exhorted the Llysanyins. As always there was the odd hum in the back of her mindvoice. This time it was stronger than usual; Kyrissaean must be very alert tonight.
Maurynna said in his mind as Lleld exhorted the Llysanyins. As always there was the odd hum in the back of her mindvoice. This time it was stronger than usual; Kyrissaean must be very alert tonight.
I truly don’t know, love; none of them look very enthusiastic
, Linden admitted.
, Linden admitted.
In truth, the Llysanyins looked very
un
enthusiastic. Some wandered off. Others stayed, Linden suspected, merely to be polite. Not one looked as if they’d ever dreamed of running away with a band of traveling entertainers. Granddam and grandson stared intently first at Lleld, then at the truehumans; their noses touched for a long moment as if they discussed something. But a heartbeat later they dropped their heads and grazed. Linden’s hopes plummeted.
un
enthusiastic. Some wandered off. Others stayed, Linden suspected, merely to be polite. Not one looked as if they’d ever dreamed of running away with a band of traveling entertainers. Granddam and grandson stared intently first at Lleld, then at the truehumans; their noses touched for a long moment as if they discussed something. But a heartbeat later they dropped their heads and grazed. Linden’s hopes plummeted.
When Lleld finished, Linden waited to see if any Llysanyins would step forward. None did. As one the two grey-maned blacks rose on their hind legs, pirouetted, and trotted away. With a sigh, Linden beckoned Otter and Raven forward. Perhaps one or two of the Llysanyins would change their minds when face-to-face with the men.
“Go,” Linden said. “Walk among them.”
Otter hesitated a moment; Raven went into the center of what was left of the herd. Otter followed, his scarlet bard’s cloak pulled close. Linden retreated and motioned the other Dragonlords to do the same.
The Llysanyins studied the two men. Linden’s hopes soared for a moment when one young mare looked deep into Raven’s eyes and touched his shoulder with her nose. But then she turned away; it was plain she’d done nothing more than wish him luck.
The rain began and the group of Llysanyins melted away. Some went to fetch the horses to drive them to the stables. Others stood by the gate, waiting for one of the two-foots to unlatch it for them. Lleld, still mounted on Miki, went off to oblige them. Horses and Llysanyins poured through the gate and set off for the warmth and dryness of the stables in a flood of tossing heads and cavorting bodies.
Full darkness fell as Dragonlords and truehumans kept to their places, waiting for the press of horseflesh to be well away. Concerned that Otter would have difficulty picking his way in the rainy dark, Linden tossed a few more balls of coldfire into the air, mindspeaking the other Dragonlords to do the same, and led the way to the gate. Immediately more bright globes burst into existence like tiny suns, dancing in the rain. A dozen or so swirled in the air and strung themselves in a line to guide the truehumans from the pasture to the gate.
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