Dragon's Treasure (8 page)

Behind the shield of its brick walls and hanging gardens, the village of Castella dreamed in the sun.

Rodolfo Mino, Governor of Castella, nibbled delicately at his sugar-topped muffin. It was an idyllic day. The air was warm, scented with chocolate. A mug of it, topped with cream and cinnamon, sat on the table before him, beside his second muffin.

In the meadow below his patio, a trio of village girls were exchanging secrets beneath the fig trees. Goats grazed on the verdant hillsides. A red-tailed hawk hovered hopefully above them, black against a luminous sapphire sky.

Across the green and placid meadows lay other villas, summer homes for the wealthy of Ujo and Firense. Their presence gave Castella its name: the Summer City. Like his own, they were old, elegant in design, filled with beauty. Most were empty; it was June, a little early for the summer visitors, though some had arrived already, like Remy Andujar, and Celia Bertinelli. He had dined with Celia two evenings ago. Even though she was nearly forty, she was still one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. He had brought her a bottle of eighteen-year-old merignac. She had given him a crimson robe embroidered with a vine-leaf pattern.

"To keep you warm at night," she jested.

He had not misunderstood; she had no romantic interest in him, nor, to tell the truth, did he have in her. They were, as Celia said, winter friends.

Once he, too, had wintered in Ujo. But he found traveling less convenient now than he had when he was younger, and carried less flesh on his bones. He was a substantial man. He was also not ambitious, and therefore did not need to visit Ujo to remind Kalni Leminin of his loyalty. He was fortunate to have so powerful a patron.

He was fortunate, too, in his brothers, who were perfectly content for him to live in Castella, while they toiled in Ujo, managing the bank. They were good at managing the bank. He would have made a terrible banker.

He smelled smoke. Something was burning. He hoped that it was not his lunch. He heard a sound behind him; the scrape of a footfall on brick.

"Leander," he said, without turning, "draw my bath, if you would be so kind."

An unfamiliar voice said, "I am sorry, Governor. I'm afraid you will have to wait for your bath. Leander is busy."

He turned. Two strangers stood on his patio. The one in front was slender and fair-haired, rather good-looking. He held a drawn sword in his right hand.

"Who are you?" Rodolfo Mino said. He rose. "What are you doing in my house?"

The man with the sword smiled. "My name's Unamira. They call me the Bastard. Don't bother to call your garrison. I am afraid they also are busy."

He had heard of this man who called himself the Bastard. He and his outlaw band had been giving Marion diSorvino fits, threatening towns, stealing, burning....

"What do you want?"

"We want your gold, Governor. Where is it?"

Mino said, "I will not tell you that."

"Niello," the man said. A third man, also fair-haired, with a vulpine face, stepped onto the terrace, dragging Leander with him by one slim wrist. He held a knife in his right hand. Leander was naked. His hands were bound, and a filthy cloth had been thrust into his mouth. "I think you will. Show him, Niello."

The other man smiled, and with a negligent flick of his hand, slid the knife along Leander's chest. A pebble of flesh— Leander's left nipple—fell to the brick. Blood streamed down his narrow chest.

"Stop," Rodolfo Mino said. "That is unnecessary. I will give you whatever you want."

"I thought you would," the speaker said. "You will lead the way to your strongbox. Quickly, please." His sword tip lifted threateningly. In the orchard, the girls were still singing. Leander's eyes were filled with terror. The scent of burning grew stronger.

Don't hurt them, Rodolfo Mino prayed. Please don't hurt them.

He stepped across the tiles, avoiding the blood.

* * *

They left the governor bound and gagged beside his empty strongbox.

"Now where shall we go?" Edric said.

Treion pointed at random to a nearby villa. "Let's go there."

"Whose is it?" Edric asked.

"I have no idea." He turned to ask Niello. He was nowhere to be seen. "What the hell... Where did he go?"

Edric said, "Don't know. Want me to look for him?"

"No." He stuffed the pouch with the governor's money into his saddlebag. They rode toward the villa, passed a deserted square, a fountain, an olive orchard.... Half the trees were alight. There were fires everywhere now. The flames were highest around the guardhouse. They had stacked hay around it, and blocked the door with the cart they had used to haul it in. They had purchased hay and cart from a farmer in Orvieto. Wisely, he had asked no questions.

Gund and Leo loped by. Gund had a swath of yellow silk wrapped about his shoulders. He was carrying an ornate silver candlestick in one hand.

What you find is yours to keep,
Treion had told his men.
When you've got enough, get out. Separate, don't stay together. They'll be looking for us.

Where shall we go?
Oliver had asked.

Wherever you like. We'll meet again in Yarrow, a month from now.

* * *

They rode to the house. The front door was locked, but Edric broke a window. The house was exquisitely furnished, with fine wood chairs and stuffed beds, and silk over all the windows. The hearths were cold. Edric went upstairs. "No one's here," he reported.

"Damn." They went to another house. This one had already been ransacked.

As they left it, Oliver ran up to them. "Chief. You better come."

"What is it?"

"It's Ippo. He's dead. Someone shot at him with an arrow from inside a house. They won't let us in."

"Which house? Show me."

It was a neat stone villa with a bright blue door. They tied their horses to the garden gate. Two of his men stood in the garden.

"There's two, maybe three people in there," Oliver explained. "One's a woman. I saw her through a gap in a curtain. There are horses in the stable. We tried to break the door down, and someone shot arrows at us through a window." He pointed to a small round window set high in the brick wall. "The first one caught Ippo right in the chest. The others missed."

"How many shooters?"

"Just one, we think."

And not a good one, if all but one of the shots had missed. Not a trained soldier; probably a servant: a groom, or a cook.

"Right. You two stay here. Find something to make shields with. There's bound to be some pieces of wood lying around. Bang on the door, shout, make a lot of noise. Edric, Oliver, come with me."

They followed him around the side of the house. He pointed to the stairway leading to a balcony. Crouching, they wormed up it. The balcony was empty. In the front of the house, the men began to yell. "Now," Treion said.

Edric and Oliver slammed against the balcony door. It opened into a bedchamber. A black-haired girl in an apron was folded down to the floor beside the curtained bed. She stared at them in horror, and screamed. The chamber smelled of roses. The bed hangings were green silk.

A jeweled comb lay on a table beside the bed. Oliver snatched it up. He grabbed the girl firmly with the other hand.

"Shut up," he said to her.

Treion asked, "Who lives here?" She gazed at him, mute with terror. He turned his back on her and went out of the chamber and down a gleaming wood stairway to a wide, pleasant room. It had tall windows, curtains drawn across them now, and cushioned divans, and soft plush rugs.

A woman in green silk stood beside an ornate chest. Her hair was red. She was small and plump, and quite beautiful. Her delicate hands were covered with jeweled rings, at least one on almost every finger. She wore a green ribbon around her neck. There were pearls in her ears.

Outside, the men were still yelling. Treion said to Edric, "Let them in. Search the house, and bring me what you find." He turned to the woman.

"Give me your rings. The earrings, too. Where have you hidden your gold?"

Calmly, she began to remove her rings. "I have no gold." It was, of course, a lie. She had an enchanting voice, rich and deep and honeyed. "Who are you?"

He bowed. "My name is Unamira."

"I've heard men speak of you. They call you the Bastard, do they not?"

"I call myself the Bastard, my lady. I'm honored that you've heard of me."

Upstairs, there was a thumping noise. The girl screamed shrilly. The woman said sharply, "Teresa!" She started toward the stairs. Treion put an arm out.

She stepped back from him, snarling like a cat. "Don't touch me! Teresa!" The screams continued. "Tell them to leave her alone."

Treion said, "Sorry. Too late."

She batted at him. "Get out of my way." He did not move. "Damn you!" Her eyes sparkled with anger and contempt. She flung the rings at him. One of them caught him on the cheek. She scooped up a lamp from the chest and threw it. The oil spattered across his chest.

"Thief! Coward! Rapist! Your father was a rapist, too! Get out of my house. Get out! Get out!"

Fury roared through him. His eyes went red. For a moment, he could not see. Furious, he snatched his dagger from his belt and stabbed her in the throat. Blood sprayed from the wound. He leaped back.

She slumped to the floor. Edric entered, grinning, holding a burlap sack. "I found the gold, chief," he said. "It was hidden in the pantry." He stopped grinning. "Imarru. What happened?"

"Never mind," Treion said curtly. The dagger was still in his hand. He walked to one of the windows and wiped the blood from the steel with the velvet drape. He opened the sack. It held about twenty nobles and more jewelry. He picked the rings off the rug, all that he could find, and dropped them into it. A gold ring set with a large square-cut topaz looked large enough to fit him. He slipped it onto his little finger. His cuffs were wet with blood.

Oliver came downstairs, adjusting his clothes.

"Well," he said, "that was fun." He glanced without interest at the dead woman. "Ooh. That's a pretty thing." He scooped up an ivory letter opener.

Treion jerked his head at Edric. "Time to go." They went out the front door of the house. A man wearing an apron lay dead in the hallway.

Treion wedged the burlap sack into his saddlebags. Damn it, he hadn't meant to kill her. If she hadn't said what she had said, he wouldn't have killed her.
Thief! Coward! Rapist! Your father was a rapist, too!

They rode past the burning olive orchard, toward the town gate.

Edric said, "Where are we going?"

"East."

"East? How far?"

"First to Secca. Then across the Kameni border."

"Why so far?" Edric said. "Secca's a good place. Why can't we stay in Secca?"

"Because," Treion said, "they'll be looking for us in Secca."

As they neared the guardhouse, the smell of burning flesh grew strong.

"Feh," said Edric, flapping a hand across his nose. "Hoy, look." Niello, on horseback, emerged from the smoldering orchard. Edric shouted. Niello bent his head. His horse shot forward. It galloped down the avenue.

"Now where's he going in such a hurry?" Edric said.

"Good question," Treion said. He turned the grey into the trees. They followed the tracks to a clearing. It smelled of blood. Someone had slaughtered an animal—a pig, perhaps.

The horses tossed their heads uneasily.

Edric's horse stiffened. He wheeled in a circle.

"Easy," Edric said, "easy now, what's wrong with you?"

Treion rode forward. The beast, partially eviscerated, lay against the bole of a tree. A flock of crows flew up from it as he approached. Then he saw that what he had taken to be animal was, in fact, human, and breathing. Its face, such as it was, looked eyelessly up into the light.

His sword was in his hand. With no thought in his mind at all, he killed it.

* * *

Word of the desolation of Castella came to Ujo from the lips of a carter. He was on his way north with a load of salvaged timber, and had led his mule team through the open gate just after sunrise, hoping to water his animals and quench his thirst.

What he saw, and smelled, made him empty his wagon, wrench his mules' heads around and urge them to the road as swiftly as they could be made to trot.

He reached the gates of Ujo after sundown. The gates were shut, but when the men at the gate heard what he had to say, they sent him, despite the lateness of the hour, to Kalni Leminin's palace.

Dennis Amdur, captain of the Lemininkai's first cavalry wing, was not an inexperienced soldier. He had served the Lemininkai for eight years. He had fought outlaws, and Chuyokai, and even Isojai. He had seen dead men before.

Nevertheless, when his chief lieutenant brought him to the olive grove, and showed him the viciously mutilated thing that had once been a human being, he felt first a terrible revulsion, then a rage so great it dizzied him.