Return to Shanhasson (32 page)

“So few, Your Majesty, compared to your
impressive defenses,” the man on the left said, bowing deeply and sweeping his
hands out, palm up. “Surely our numbers aren’t enough to alarm you.”

She didn’t mention the thousands which
had gathered on her border. She didn’t think it necessary to remind them
outright. Her nonchalance would cut deeper, she hoped, and cause them unease to
match hers.

“What, exactly, do you want to talk
about?” She smiled at each
tal
,
deliberately bearing her teeth in a show of dominance that dragon spawn would
understand all too well. “Far Illione borders are not in dispute; it’s obvious
where the desert ends and Green Lands begin.”

“As it’s also obvious that the desert
claims more of your Green Lands each year,” the
tal
in the middle answered, his voice terse.

The
tal
on the right glared at him, and then turned that glare on her. “We have a
custom in the deserts that no
tal
may
be named
azi
until he weds a White.
You, Your Majesty, are the Last Daughter, the Last White known to us. We wish
to court you.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. According
to her Dreams and Percy’s warning, “courting” meant tossing her to a vengeful
dragon who’d rip her limb from limb. “Surely you jest, gentlemen.”

“Did you not declare a challenge?” The
tal
on the left asked, a small smile
flickering on his lips so quickly she almost missed it. The little curl of
smugness was awfully familiar, but it was gone in a heartbeat, too quickly for
her to be sure. “Even in the desert, we heard that if any man wishes to wed
you, he must challenge your Blood. We wish to join the challenge. We three will
Dance the Blades, and the last standing will then fight your Blood.”

Wind nickered, her head swinging to the
south with her ears perked expectantly. At last, the Sha’Kae al’Dan came at a
hard gallop up High Road. “Absolutely out of the question.”

“Interesting,” the
tal
in the middle said, pitching his voice to the savages behind
him. “The High Queen is not a woman of her word after all.”

“I had heard there was no challenge she
would not meet,” the
tal
on the right
said just as loudly.

“The High Queen of the Green Lands never
runs,” the
tal
on the left whispered,
flashing that faint curl of his lips again. “Yet she runs from us.”

 
“Prepare to open the Gates,” she shouted to the
men on the wall. The
tals
smiled and
shared knowing glances at one another. Lady above, she hoped that Khul rode
them all down like dogs as he brought his warriors into Shanhasson.

“Lady have mercy!” She thought it was
Father Josef. Craning her head, she searched for him in the crowd and caught a
flash of his white robes. “Your Majesty!”

The Blood bonds suddenly sang with
urgency. Dharman crashed into her, carried her out of the saddle, and rolled in
midair to take the brunt of the fall himself. Pain sliced through the bond,
sharp and deep, in all directions.

Not hers, but all nine.

:Dharman!:
Instead of answering, he rolled her beneath him, using his full weight as
though he sought to crush her into the earth. Or perhaps he had no strength
remaining. Lady above, he was so heavy, a dead weight on top of her.

 
Lady, no!

She couldn’t breathe. Pain pounded
through the bonds, crippling her. It was like Rhaekhar dying all over again,
but multiplied by nine.

The scent of blood was thick in the air.
Her right arm was pinned beneath Dharman, but she felt with her left and found
an arrow in his back. Sal should have covered them, and Jorah, but neither
warrior was close. Were they too hurt themselves? Did they fear hurting him
more?

:Brightheart!:
The Black roared in her mind.
:Your Reds
are down, every single one of them. Your own allies betray you. Let us in!:

Like
hell I will.

Dharman remained conscious, clutching
her head tight against his chest to shield her, but his breath caught in pain.
If they were all hurt…down… Why didn’t they use their bonds to tell her what
was happening?

Oh,
Lady,
na’lanna
Blood!

Another arrow thumped into his body. She
felt the impact, the shudder of pain he tried to hide. Sobbing, she tried to
get her hand beneath him to the
rahke
on her hip. If she could sacrifice blood, she could Heal them. She could burn
her betrayers to a crisp where they stood.

“I know you care for your barbarians,
Your Majesty.” King Challon called a dozen paces away. “Surrender and we’ll
spare them.”

The clash of swords came in all
directions. Certainly Allandor and her own Guard were engaged with Challon’s,
but who else was attempting this coup? With enemies at the Gate, she’d never
expected betrayal from within.

Dharman retorted through his bond.
:Don’t.:

The small crack he opened let pain gush
through so sharp that her vision grayed in a swimming ocean. The pain she’d
felt before was nothing compared to this. The truth dawned on her: her Blood
refused to use their bonds to converse with her because they were shielding as
much of their agony from her as possible.

Even
in death, they’re protecting me.

She bit her lip until she tasted copper
and iron. A small sacrifice, but it was enough that she felt the holy waters of
the Silver Lake well within her. She sent the healing flow toward Dharman
first. If she could get him up, and sacrifice more blood, then she could Heal
the rest. She refused to even comprehend that she’d lose any of her
na’lanna
Blood.

He shuddered, his breath rasping
unevenly in his chest. She wanted to throw her head back and wail.
I won’t let You have them, too. Not one!

She had only one weapon left, albeit
Shadowed and as trustworthy as her allies that had set this trap. She knew the
Black couldn’t hear her words, not without a bond forged in her blood, but she
seized that black sinuous beast in her mind and squeezed.
Help me, damn you! Blood, I need blood!

:I
hear your Call, brightheart. I come to you.:

* * *

DHARMAN DIDN’T DARE RISE AN inch for
fear the archers would land an arrow to her head or neck. To be honest, he
doubted he could move even if he must. The first arrow had broken off in his
side when he rolled her beneath him, and at least two more had hit his back.
Better him than her, but he was not yet ready to ride to Vulkar’s Clouds.

Great
Wind Stallion, hear my prayer. If I must die, let us all ride to together.
Spare her all pain—I’ll take it gladly—but let her ride with me, I beg you.

It was a selfish prayer that shamed him,
but he couldn’t help it. He loved her too much to leave her heart bleeding and
wounded once more.

The other Blood kept the swords from his
back, but from the shriek of metal coming ever nearer, he knew his brothers
wouldn’t last much longer.

He thought the attack the worst
nightmare in all his years serving Shannari as First Blood, until something
seized hold of her arm and dragged her out from beneath him. She screamed and
her arm nearly popped out of its socket. Razors scored her arm from elbow to
wrist. Wings beat the air, the stink of dragon and desert filling his nose.

Clutching at her ankle, he roared.
“Nay!”

The drag on her body caused the talons
to slice her flesh ever deeper. Cursing, he released her, but his stomach
rolled and his heart weighed like cold lead in his chest.

The massive black-winged beast winked a
baleful silver eye at him and dragged his prey away from the fighting to the
relative shelter of the Shining Wall. So large, the dragon dwarfed the
screaming, rearing mare, but Wind refused to leave her rider defenseless.

Dharman pushed up to his elbows and bit
back a scream of pain. Steel grated inside him, tearing his internal organs
even more, but he flung himself after her. His body before any threat, so he’d
sworn. The Vulkar-damned beast would have to eat him first.

The dragon still clutched her arm in his
mouth, but at least he didn’t rip her fragile limb off completely. Dharman
shuddered at the thought of the dragon burying his muzzle in the tender skin of
her abdomen.

Vulkar
help me
, he prayed, dragging himself across the paving stones
pace by pace.
Give me the heated strength
of Your heartfires and punishing speed of Your hooves. Let me reach her before
she dies. Please, take me with her!

She climbed to her feet, her face as
white as her clothing had been before he’d bled all over her. Calmly, as though
a dragon didn’t hold her pinned in its jaws, she let her head fall back and
swept her right arm out from her body.

A wave of bone-chilling water crashed
into Dharman. It slung him on his back, filling his mouth and nose, swelling in
his lungs and streaming down his throat. Metal tinged on the stone as she
pushed the arrows out of his body. He couldn’t help but thrash and bellow at
the bottom of her Silver Lake, for she was forced to Heal him hard and quickly.

The ground rumbled beneath him, swaying
and tossing him like a tiny boat at sea. Light blazed, searing his eyes. Shadow
spewed like black fire over his head, tainting her sweet moonlight. Screams
came from her enemies, but he couldn’t help but feel regret. She must have
drawn on the Black’s poisonous power to darken her own.

He felt the dark pulse of wicked
amusement in her mind, leaking into his own Blood bond. The Black Dragon was
more than pleased to assist her when her precious Reds had proven so weak.
Growling beneath his breath, Dharman unsheathed his
rahke
and struggled to his feet. The stench of rotten bodies and
acidic ash filled his nose, swirling all around him. He knew her power wouldn’t
touch anything of hers, but his skin crawled at the loathsome touch of the
taint.

She stood as tall and proud as the Dark
Mare, her hair streaming wildly about her shoulders, her white stained with
blood. The Black Dragon crouched over her, breathing his fumes all around her,
but she remained untouched.

As soon as the beast noticed that Dharman
was up, he lowered his muzzle to her bleeding wrist and settled in to lick her
blood with long, slow, deliberate swirls of its serpentine tongue on her flesh.
Dharman swore the filthy beast smiled at him.

Fury pounded a vicious gallop in his
skull.

Wading through swirling eddies of
blackness, he fought his way to her, using his bond to guide him. Someone
bumped against his back and seized his shoulder in a familiar grip. Sal. Good.
At least two had survived. Leaning against the current, they charged toward
na’lanna Qwen
. “Shannari!”

* * *

WELLS
,
MYKAL’S DREAMS COULD NEVER compare to the precious richness of her blood. It
was all he could do to withdraw and make his escape, leaving her to kill the
last of her betrayers while her freshly healed Blood came to her aid. Her blood
sizzled through his body, a painful sensation of light cutting through darkest
night, just as her holy waters had pained him. He treasured that hurt,
willingly swallowing another bellyful of talons to claw him from the inside out.

He flew back over her Shining Walls and
found his warriors on the verge of Dancing the Blades with the horse king’s. It
amused him to scream out a vicious, taunting roar of victory and watch the
powerful horses buck and whinny with terror. Beautiful they may be and
descended from the Great Wind Stallion, but they were still horses.

One of his kind’s favorite feasts.

Now for his greatest test as Mykal
tal
’Mamba, freed from the yoke of the
twisted ring of Shadow. He landed in the midst of the Keldari, took a deep
breath, and Called the dragon back inside.

The beast refused.

It scented his White, felt the sweet
burn of her blood in his belly, and wanted more, more, more. He wanted to rub
his head and jaws against her to mark her with his scent. Give her more blood,
more than any of her Reds had ever done so his bond blazed strongest in her
heart. And then, oh,
iyeh
, he wanted
to slide home into the oasis of her lush body and feel her shine love and
pleasure all over him.

Panting, Mykal gritted his teeth and concentrated
harder. He would not remain a dragon, not when he was this close to his
purpose. He must be human before she recovered enough to remember that three
tals
waited at her Gates. He wasn’t
ready to let her know his true identity, not until he knew whether she might
accept him.

With a snarling swipe of vicious claws,
the dragon fought him. So very small inside the massive beast, he felt sweaty,
exhausted, and so miserably puny without the weight of the ring on his hand.
All he had was his will.

And
her bond.

Moonlight flickered in him, rainbows on
clear water. The dragon cocked his head, listening to music playing just beyond
hearing.