Meghan's Dragon (28 page)

Chapter 87

“I can’t believe we’ve found all five of the objects and none of them were for me.” Meghan pulled the signet ring back off her middle and ring ringers, which together, had still made a loose fit. She tossed it back to Bryan. “I guess it’s yours. Let’s get some sleep.”

“It’s too big for me, too. Can’t you say something and make it resize to my ring finger?”

“I already tried that when I had it,” the girl admitted. “It has some sort of charm on it that I can’t figure out. There wasn’t much in the baron’s library about working out unknown spells, it’s sort of a specialty among mages.”

“Maybe it just needs a good jolt,” Bryan replied, and before she could stop him, the bones in his hand showed through the skin as he let the energy flow into his clenched fist. “Ow!”

“What happened?”

“It got hot. Real hot,” Bryan complained, rubbing his palm. The ring lay on the ground where he’d let it fall, glowing dully. “It burned me pretty good.”

“Let me see.” Meghan took his hand and peered at the palm like she was reading his fortune. “That’s funny. I’d swear that’s the same dragon glyph that you had on your forehead when Rowan smashed you with the hilt of his sword.”

“Pommel. It stings pretty badly. Can you fix it?”

Meghan mumbled some basic burn-healing encouragement under her breath while gently rubbing the red mark with her index finger, and gradually it blended in with the surrounding skin. “All better?”

“Thanks.” Bryan bent to pick up the ring again and Meghan flinched, but apparently it had cooled down. “I guess that is the same dragon mark as Rowan’s sword. Maybe the two are some kind of set.”

“Did you check the ring for an inscription?”

“You’re the big reader in the family,” he said, flipping the ring back to her.

Meghan steeled herself for the catch, but the metal was barely warm to the touch. She kindled a small glow light that wouldn’t draw attention to their campsite in the castle’s park grounds and examined the band.

“At least it’s in standard mage-script for a change,” she said, flipping the ring around so the words wouldn’t be upside down. “One ring to rule them all and in—Ha! Got you.”

“I never should have told you about that book,” Bryan said ruefully, embarrassed by the fact that his eyes had popped out of his head. “What’s actually inscribed?”

“Please return to King’s Castle. Reward.”

“Come on, what’s it really say?”

“That is what it really says,” Meghan replied, cocking her head and staring at the inscription. “And it wouldn’t give an address as simple as ‘King’s Castle’ if it wasn’t royal property that everybody should recognize. I wonder how it got here?”

“I wonder what the reward is.”

“We’re on the side revolting against the king. Remember?”

“Yeah, but maybe we could get the reward first and then be on the other side. You know, like spies.”

The girl shook her head. “Not unless you ask Rowan first.”

“Alright,” Bryan said, looking around in the dark. “I think his tent is over there.”

“Not now, you goof,” Meghan almost shouted. “In the morning!”

Chapter 88

The road which paralleled King’s Highway headed down a gentle slope towards a large section of fields covered with the stubble of harvested crops. The expeditionary force sent by the White Duke was deployed in advance of Rowan’s players, but they came to a halt when another column of men and horses emerged from the woods across the fields.

“Are we going to fight them?” Bryan asked Rowan, fingering the hilt of his sword. “There are four, no, five mages in hoods riding with them, and we only have the two mages from the White Duke.”

“Well, we’d better avoid fighting them in that case,” Rowan replied complacently.

“That’s it? Don’t you have to issue orders or something?”

“My voice is a bit hoarse today, chill from last night. Do you think you can make yourself heard to all of our men if I tell you what to say?”

“I’m ready when you are,” the young man responded, cupping his hands around his mouth, as if that would help with magical amplification.

“Don’t attack our allies,” Rowan said.

“Don’t attack our allies!” Bryan shouted, employing the barker technique he had learned from Jomar. His amplified voice rolled through the valley like thunder, and was answered by laughter from hundreds of men on both sides of the field.

“That was really impressive,” Laitz said, slapping Bryan on the back. “Lighting and announcing makes you a double threat. If you can learn some weather control from Storm Bringer, you’ll be the most valuable man among all the player groups.”

“So they’re really joining us?”

“It’s only chance that we’re meeting here,” Rowan told the chagrined young man. “All of our people are making their way separately to the shore, and I hope we can convince the Blue Duke to declare his neutrality. There’s no advantage to grouping up before we get there, just ruins the roads.”

“But this is really it. You’re moving against the king.”

“The false king,” Laitz interjected.

A hawk appeared from the north, descending in a shallow dive, and the shaman materialized at the front of the wagon train to catch the bird.

“That’s not the same hawk,” Bryan said accusingly, as if Storm Bringer was trying to pull a fast one.

“No, this lovely bird is the companion of a friend of mine who lives on the coast overlooking King’s Island.” The bird perched on the shaman’s shoulder and the two stared into each other’s eyes, Storm Bringer occasionally nodding his head. “It’s as we thought. The king’s men have been collecting all of the boats on the south shore within a day’s sailing of the island. They’re trying to defuse the revolt without having to call on the dukes for troops.”

“If we were coming from the north it would hardly matter, but the river on the south side must be more than a thousand paces wide,” Laitz pointed out.

“I thought you claimed walking on water amongst your many skills,” Rowan needled the illusionist.

“Also,” the shaman continued after further communion with the bird, “there’s a delegation of the royal guard on the way. They must have left several days ago and ridden hard, because they’re almost here.”

“Go inform the White Duke’s men to let them through when they arrive,” Rowan instructed Theodric, who immediately began jogging forward.

“That reminds me,” Bryan said. “Meghan and I, uh, found this ring in a fish, and it says something about returning it to King’s Castle in the inscription.” He groped around in his pockets and eventually drew out the large ring and passed it to Rowan.

The leader of the players looked truly surprised for the first time Bryan could remember. “You got this from a fish?”

“A metal fish, in a pool,” the young man explained. “Next to a waterfall.”

Rowan peered at the inscription and then pulled the hilt of his sword forward to compare the engraving on the pommel with the relief on the ring. “Well, well. This comes at a good time,” he said. “I think I’d better talk things over with my wife before the delegation arrives.”

“It said something about a reward,” Bryan called after him hopefully. Not receiving an answer, he went to find Meghan to complain.

Chapter 89

When the royal guard delegation arrived, the players were just finishing up lunch and getting ready to start out again. Rowan signaled for everybody to take an extended break and carefully eyed the six approaching horsemen, who carried no visible weapons other than the sword no self-respecting soldier would be caught dead without.

“What do you think?” he asked his companions.

“If any of them are mages, they’re doing a better job hiding it than I’ve ever encountered,” Storm Bringer replied. “The senior fellow there obviously isn’t used to long stretches in the saddle.”

“I’d say five guards to fulfill court protocol and one of the king’s inner cabinet,” Isabella said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he was picked for this job because he’s the farthest thing from a mage among them. Somebody is trying to put us at ease.”

Theodric and Hardol stopped the horses on the road and exchanged a few friendly words with the guardsmen. Jomar appeared with a short wooden stepladder and helped the older man dismount from the large warhorse. The messenger almost fell over when he reached the ground, and spent some time vigorously rubbing the backs of his thighs before slowly straightening. Then he steeled himself and managed to convey a certain degree of limping dignity as he approached the waiting players.

“I am Lyman, the king’s minister of ducal affairs,” he announced. “I have been appointed special envoy to the, er, you.”

“Rowan,” the leader of the players said, offering his hand to shake. The signet ring fit snugly on his finger and had been shined to a high gloss so the visitor could hardly miss it. “Do you like my ring? It returned to me just recently.”

“I see,” Lyman muttered, obviously recognizing the dragon symbol. “If your intention is to claim the throne for yourself, my peacemaking mission has been wasted. I only wish I had known before sitting on that infernal animal for three days and having my bones shaken apart.”

“A peacemaker’s mission is never wasted,” Rowan said agreeably. “Please, join us for a cup of tea. My wife has been saving it for a special occasion, and you look like you could use a little pick-me-up.”

“I accept your hospitality,” Lyman said, and then began looking around as if he’d misplaced something. “I’ll just lean on the wagon there, if you don’t mind. I’ve had enough sitting for the time being.”

Rowan’s daughters prepared the decorative samovar and served the tea. In deference to the guest, everybody gathered around the wagon bed and took their tea standing.

“Lovely piece,” the envoy said, though it wasn’t immediately clear whether he was talking about Nesta or the samovar. He seemed to realize the ambiguity of his comment and quickly followed up with, “From your home?”

“The samovar, yes,” Isabella answered him. “Where are you from in Old Land?”

“The Korizan Mountains,” Lyman replied. “I traveled through your birth land many times before I emigrated. They still talk of the runaway bride there.”

“I’m glad I was able to afford the people with such entertainment.”

Bryan nudged Meghan to make sure she wouldn’t be startled and then spoke to her in his mind. “Rowan’s wife was an actress in Old Land? I thought she was some kind of princess.”

“Isabella really is some sort of Old Land nobility, and their marriage gives Rowan as good a claim to rule as anybody,” she thought back. “The ring must be from the king’s collection, so wearing it in front of the envoy is a statement of opposition.”

“The tea is quite good,” the envoy said. It seemed to Bryan that the man was relaxing, or perhaps, resigning himself to an unpleasant conclusion. “I had hoped to negotiate a nonaggression pact, but I doubt that fits in with your plans.”

“Oh, I’d be best pleased if we could get through this without aggression,” Rowan replied. “In fact, you could say that if not for the unending cycle of violence in the land, I would have been more than happy to live out my days with my family in the honorable profession of strolling players. But your master is cast in the image of his father, a ruler who sees a kingdom as fields for growing men and fighting them against each other, like boys playing with toy soldiers.”

“You’re pursuing the throne for the people’s sake?” Lyman looked Rowan up and down as if he was a prize specimen in a zoo. “I see you believe it. My sole talent is the detection of willful lies, so if you are deceiving me, you must be deceiving yourself as well.” He drained his tea and cleared his throat. “The king has authorized me to offer you one hundred thousand gold pieces and the lands west of the river beyond the frontier if you will give up your revolt.”

“Enough to buy sweet dreams for a dragon, perhaps, but I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night,” Rowan replied with a smile. “My counteroffer is that I will grant the king permission to keep his one hundred thousand gold pieces and return to Old Land, preferably taking Narl and Barth with him.”

“I gathered that would be your response from the reports of armed men moving towards King’s Island, not to mention the ring. We assume that you’ll have the support of the White and Red Dukes, but you know the current Blue Duke owes his position to the king, and the Green and Black are committed.”

“The Black Duke sent an expeditionary force into the mountains two weeks ago, and I imagine they will be bogged down in the snows by now. The Green and the Red hold each other in stalemate, so I doubt very much the king can expect support from that quarter.”

“You plan to build a fleet of rafts and cross the river in twelfth month?”

“That remains to be seen,” Rowan answered. “I have great hope that your king will accept my offer to vacate. I understand that a fleet has recently arrived for that purpose.”

“The fleet carries elite troops from the king’s supporters in Old Land!”

“So they may have to sleep double on the voyage home. I hope they brought enough mages for a smooth passage in high seas.”

Lyman snorted. “Very well, I won’t waste any more of your time since you have a long march ahead of you.”