The Dragon Hunter and the Mage (16 page)

She sighed.

I suppose getting the ink myself is no tragedy.

She was getting up when someone knocked on the door.

“Yes?” she said.

The door creaked and Saruk appeared.

“You summoned, Grand Master?” the instructor asked.

“Ah, Saruk, come in.” She stepped from behind her desk and walked to the large map table at the center of the study. “I have good news for you.” She crossed her arms. “You won’t like it, however.”

Saruk gave her a puzzled look.

“I imagine you saw the boy and the girl standing outside,” Sylene said.

“New recruits?”

The Grand Master confirmed that with a nod. “Conscripts, of course. They’re siblings. Orphans since the Purge, and have been living on the streets ever since.” She strolled around the map. “The boy stole from a fruit merchant because he didn’t want his sister to starve. So they ended up down here.” She exhaled loudly. “You know, the usual.”  

“Are they for me?” Saruk asked. Sylene nodded. “It is good news, then.”

“Yes.” The Grand Master stopped and turned to face Saruk. “The twenty third is finally at full strength. I want them in the Frostbound within the week.”

“What?!”

“You heard me, Saruk. Within the week.”

“They’re not prepared.”

“Prepare them then. I need the twenty third fully trained and ready to hunt, understood?”

“Prepare them…? Half of them haven’t been here for more than a week. Most of them are bakers and fishermen. One of them is a priest, for Goddess’ sake! I need more time.”

“Look at this map,” the Grand Master snapped. “Look at it!” She punched the table and the small wooden hunters jumped. One of them nearly tumbled. “It’s practically empty. As we stand we’re barely able to maintain minimum patrols.” She stretched her finger towards a portion of the map to her left. “Look at the eastern corridor. We haven’t had a single patrol in Derrick’s Pass for two months. If we keep this up for much longer a Dragon
will
seep through. I need the twenty third in the field, Saruk.” 

“What would you prefer? Getting your new Company a few more months down the road, or never at all? Because if they are not ready, they won’t survive the training. It’s too dangerous.”

Sylene turned around and headed back to her desk.

“This is the Dragon Hunters Guild, Saruk,” she said, sitting back down. “Danger is not optional.”

After his little adventure in the Mage’s Tower with Leth, Aric had no trouble finally falling asleep.

He dreamt of the desert Witch again. She was opening the door Leth had shown him, except in the dream the library was much, much bigger and was completely frozen, with icy stalactites hanging from the ceiling. The witch waved her arms and green sparkles shot out from her hands. The Glowstone lock clicked and hissed, and the door swung. As it did, Aric tried to hide, fearful that the witch realized he was watching her. But as soon as he took a step her head snapped in his direction and everything went black.

He woke up with his heart pounding, sweaty, and gasping. For a moment, it was very confusing not to wake up in his own bedroom. He saw Leth, sitting on his bed tying his boots, and suddenly remembered where he was.

A smiling Tharius greeted him. “Good morning,” he said. “You should hurry. Instructor Saruk doesn’t like it when we’re late for muster.”

The Company broke fast at the dining hall. Each recruit grabbed a couple of flatbreads from a counter and sat at one of the long tables. Besides plates and mugs, each table was littered with jars, pots, and deep plates holding a myriad of dipping sauces. Red and yellow jams, a green, oily sauce that smelled of thyme, a black, sweet paste with pine nuts and sesame seeds, and even a white, creamy cheese. The lack of a good hot sausage and some eggs made it look like a strange breakfast, and the flavors weren’t exactly familiar, but Aric was too famished to care. Apparently, so was everyone else. All thirteen members of the Company were eating in silence with slow, sleepy movements.

Around the dining hall, the crowd of senior Hunters gathering for breakfast was as colorful as the dipping sauces on the tables. There were men with green braids and purple beards, and women with hair locks painted in every color of the rainbow. A thirty something black girl, probably from Cyrinia, walked by their table, and Aric counted twenty knives strapped to her leather armor.

“Half-Prince,” a girl’s voice said. Aric looked towards the sound and found a red-haired girl sitting to his left. “How does it feel to sleep and eat among the plebs?”

Is she talking to me?

“What did you call me?” Aric asked.

“Half-Prince,” she replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I’m sorry, what is your name?” Aric asked.

“Dothea,” the red-haired girl replied.

“Dothea.” Aric swallowed a piece of bread. “Why would you call me something like that?”

“Aric,” one other girl called. “Leth already told us. All of us. We know who you are.” She smiled. “I’m Clea, by the way.”

She had olive skin and almond shaped eyes. Her wavy black hair was cut just above her shoulders. Aric had the feeling he had never seen anyone so beautiful.

“He did?” Aric looked at Leth. “You did?”

“They were going to find out sooner or later,” Leth replied. He was reading from his book and didn’t even raise his head. “I figured it was better to get it over with.”

Aric rehearsed a protest but it died out in his throat.

“So,” Dothea said, “is it very different?”

“What?” Aric asked.

“To eat with the plebs,” Dothea replied.

“Oh, uh….” Aric shrugged. “Back in the Citadel, I slept in the servant’s wing and ate in the kitchens....”

“Better than sleeping in the mud and eating with the rats,” a boy missing two teeth said.

“Or eating rats,” Dothea agreed.

“Charming…” Leth said beneath his breath.

“Shut up, Leth,” Dothea told him.

The boy missing two teeth piled on it. “Yeah, you rich kids are all the same. You should learn to respect people like us.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Leth sneered. “You’re poor, we get it. Someone should make you a statue.”

For a moment, Aric feared there would be a fight, but both Dothea and the other boy simply ignored Leth with a snort. Aric decided to defuse the awkward silence hanging over the table.

“So, hum… have any of you ever seen a Dragon?”

“I have!” Tharius said, raising a hand.

Dothea shook her head. “Sure you have…” she said.

“It’s true. It was my first week, before any of you got here. Saruk had me running across the dunes to test my endurance and then I saw it. It was flying north, several miles away. I ducked behind a dune and took a peek. It had turned west, putting me behind it, so I watched it glide off into the distance.”

Dothea dropped a piece of bread onto her plate.

“Please…” she said. “It was probably an eagle or something.”

“I can tell an eagle from a Dragon,” Tharius replied. “It had a long tail, just like a lizard. It was no bird.”

“It had to be,” Dothea insisted. “Dragons don’t come this far north.”

“That’s not true,” Tharius replied. “If you paid any attention to Saruk, you would know there have been several sightings over the last few years.”

“It’s true,” said a tall, black boy. “Honor guards like me are sent on regular tours through the desert before joining the Guild. Last year an honor guard younger than me spotted a Dragon only a few miles south of Radir.”

“What’s an honor guard?” Aric asked.

“The Cyrinian version of volunteers,” Leth replied. He had finally decided to close his book.

“In Cyrinia,” the black boy told Aric, “all villages must provide the Dragon Hunter’s Guild with one volunteer per generation. They are called honor guards.”

“Because it is considered a great honor,” Tharius explained.

Dothea looked at him in utter disbelief. “I’m pretty sure the half-prince understood that part,” she said.

Tharius was going to bark something back at her, but Aric interrupted, “Please, call me Aric.”

“Ok…” Dothea said, then shrugged. “But I’m still going to call you half-prince behind your back.”

Aric sighed, deciding it wasn’t worth arguing.

Then a thundering clap made them jump off their seat. Saruk had shown up from nowhere and was yammering like an alarm bell.

“Let’s go people! Time’s up. This is no downtown tavern. We have work to do. Pick your asses up.”

It felt like he was waking up from a bad dream for the second time that morning.

The instructor led them out of the dining hall and through the main gates. Silently, they marched down the Mountain into the desert. As soon as the red rock of Lamash turned into the golden sand that surrounded it, Saruk chose a dune and spread the trainees along its slope as if it was an amphitheater. Only then did Aric realize he had a boy and a girl with him.

“This is Ergon and Lyra,” he said before ordering the pair to join the rest of the Company. “Your new fellow recruits.”

The boy was blond and as skinny as a lizard, while the girl had short, chestnut hair and big, watery eyes.

“I imagine you all know what this means,” Saruk continued. “The twenty third Company is officially complete, and your Dragon Hunting training is about to begin. For those of you who have been here for a while, if you think you have any idea what training at Lamash is let me elucidate you. You haven’t got the first clue. From today forward you will train day
and
night. You will run across the desert and learn to survive in it for weeks. You will practice with every weapon invented by man until you have mastered their every secret. You will scale mountains with your bare hands, and you will track Dragons across the skies. But most of all, you will become a single, cohesive, and perfectly coordinated fighting unit. And by the Goddess, you will learn to slay the world’s most terrifying beasts and become one of the select few known as the Dragon Hunters of Lamash.”

Chapter 7

Tarsus walked quietly into the room. One of the Legionaries standing guard outside closed the door behind him. Cassia was standing by her window, watching the sun rise over the eastern hills beyond the city. There was another woman inside, thin and tall like a dagger. She jumped up from her seat and gave a deep curtsy.

“Imperial Majesty,” the girl said, her voice shaking slightly.

“You’re excused, Venia,” Cassia said. “You may leave us.”

“Yes, my Lady,” Venia said, then turned to the Emperor. “Your Majesty.” She scuttled past Tarsus, her eyes low, and left the room after covering her platinum hair with an even paler hood.

“Who was that?” Tarsus asked as soon as the door closed behind him again.

“Someone beneath your notice,” Cassia replied. She still had her back to Tarsus.

Tarsus cleared his throat. “I’ve been thinking,” he said. “I… may have overreacted by placing guards at your door. I’ll see that they are removed immediately.”

“I don’t see why,” Cassia said. “We both know I’m your prisoner. Makes sense that they’re out there.”

The Emperor frowned. “You are my
wife
,” he said. “The guards will leave.”

Cassia followed a bird’s flight across the sky. “Have it your way,” she said. “It’s not like it makes a difference.”

Tarsus sighed, and there was a small pause before he said, “Sagun complained that you have not yet chosen the main courses for the ball. He says he must know by tonight if there is to be any food on the table tomorrow.”

“He can serve his own liver for all I care,” Cassia replied. “I won’t be attending the ball. You already gave me my birthday gift, Tarsus. I require no more.”

The Emperor stepped further into the room. “You
will
attend the ball,” he said, his eyes burning. “Unless you want that traitor to die tomorrow, you
will
be there, and you
will
act accordingly. You are
my
wife
!” Tarsus turned on his heels and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

The room became absolutely still, and Cassia looked down to the letter in her hands. The Paladin’s handwriting was clumsy, and there were, at least, three misspelled words per sentence, but the message was clear enough. Her boy had reached the desert and was beyond her help.

She crunched the parchment with her hands and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. The air trapped in her chest came out in a sob and two tears rolled down her cheeks.

Keep calm,
she thought.
Doric still needs you. Fadan still needs you.

Beyond the great wooden doors, Cassia could hear the music. It went suddenly quiet and was replaced with the buzz of chatter until three loud knocks on the stone floor silenced everyone.

“Her Imperial Majesty, Cassia Ellara,” the voice of the herald announced from behind the door. “Queen of Augusta and Samehria, Ultrarchess of Akham, and Empress of Arrel.”

The wooden doors parted, and Cassia glided into the ballroom. A forest of nobles bowed and curtsied so deeply some of them nearly kissed the floor. With gentle nods to one side, then the other, she walked towards the blue dais at the other end of the ballroom.

“Your Majesty looks beautiful,” a fat Duchess told her, curtsying.

“A most happiest of birthdays, your Majesty,” a Cyrinian Count sang, doing such a flamboyant bow it was almost a pirouette.

The pleasantries followed her the entire way and didn’t stop until she was in front of Tarsus by their thrones. The Emperor kneeled, grabbing her right hand while looking into her eyes, then laid on it a profound kiss. Cassia wanted to pull her hand back and slap him across his face right there, in front of all his vassals, but she wasn’t doing this for herself. Tarsus invited her to sit with a gesture, and the two of them sat on their thrones. Without a word, the music resumed.

The band sat atop a podium taller than any man, right in the middle of the hall. Above them, the Imperial banners that usually dangled from the ceiling had been replaced by the arms of Cassia’s own House Ellara: A black eagle standing atop a black pine on a field of orange.

Most guests were at the center of the hall, dancing in concentric circles around the band’s podium, while those not dancing mingled at the edges of the dance floor, eating and drinking from ten different counters where servants prepared their most peculiar requests.

“You look exquisitely beautiful today,” Tarsus told her. “But when do you not?”

Cassia did not reply, and simply kept staring at the crowd in front of her. There had to be at least a couple hundred people in there, celebrating her birthday as if they didn’t know what had just happened to her son and former husband. As if
she
didn’t know.

“How long will you keep this up?” Tarsus asked. “You can’t jus
t
‒
‒
”

“Back in my room,” she said, cutting him off, “you said something. Before you left. You said that I was your wife.” She finally looked him in the eyes. “You were mistaken. I
was
your wife. No more.”

Tarsus opened an angry mouth, and was going to shout something back at her, but never had the time.

“We had a deal, Tarsus,” Cassia continued. “And you broke it. So I no longer have to keep up my end.” She returned her gaze to the dancing crowd. “Our marriage is over.”

The Emperor moved in his throne and squeezed its armrest so hard it was a miracle it didn’t break beneath his grip.

“I did
not
break any deal,” Tarsus said. “It was that traitor who broke it. For fifteen years, I kept my word. Why would I break it now?”

Cassia chuckled. “Why would Doric?” she asked.

“Because he got tired of waiting for you to run back to him, of course,” Tarsus replied.

“Let me get this straight,” Cassia said. “You’re saying Doric got tired of waiting for me, so he… joined the rebellion?”

“There is no such thing as a
rebellion
,” Tarsus replied, disgusted. “Just a handful of traitors with delusions of grandeur. And yes, I’m saying your former husband was conspiring to kill me. Which is why he has been sentenced to die.”

“Which, in turn, is why I am no longer your wife,” Cassia retorted. “In fact, I might announce that right now.”

She was going to stand up, but Tarsus stopped her, grabbing her arm.

“You didn’t let me finish,” Tarsus told her. He took a deep breath. “I understand your grief. The punishment to your other son, although deserved,
was
severe.” He removed his hand from Cassia’s arm. “Under the circumstances, I cannot blame you for being resentful. Having said that, your former husband isn’t dead
yet
, and I am nothing if not a reasonable man. So, if you are willing, I would be glad to meet you halfway.”

“You’re saying you won’t kill Doric?” Cassia asked, frowning.

“I’m saying that our marriage is more important to me than anything else,” Tarsus replied. “And for that reason, I’m willing to commute the sentence to life in prison.”

Cassia weighed those words. “Why should I trust you now?” she asked. “The last time you made me a proposition like that, you used it to set Doric up and arrest him.”

“I DID NOT!” Tarsus’ eyes nearly jumped out of their orbits. He tried to calm himself, looking around to make sure no one had noticed. “I did
not
,” he repeated lowly. “I admit the sequence of events might raise suspicions, but that is not what happened. Either way, the situation is what it is. I’m agreeing to spare the traitor’s life. Is that what you want, or not?”

The Empress considered that for a moment. “Are you willing to do the same for the others, including my cousin Hagon?” she asked.

The Emperor sighed. “Very well…”

“And you will bring back Aric?”

“Don’t push it!” Tarsus snapped, twitching in his chair. “I’m bending the rules far enough already. This is the deal. I will revoke the death sentence on all of those traitors. For you, Cassia.” He straightened himself in his throne. “Do you want it, or not?”

Cassia did not reply right away. “Yes,” she ended up saying. “We have a deal.”

“Good,” Tarsus said, smiling. “Good. As always, my love, you make me very happy.”

“Yes,” Cassia replied, standing up. “I should mingle now.” She stepped forward. “Talk to the guests.”

Without giving Tarsus a chance to say anything else, she stepped down from the dais and allowed the crowd to swallow her. There was another wave of bows, curtsies, and pleasant remarks, but Cassia didn’t even notice them. She felt dizzy. Dizzy and dirty. If there had been a lake in the hall she probably would have jumped right in.

Three knocks on the floor woke her up.

“His Imperial Majesty, Fadan Patros,” the herald announced. “Count of Capra, Prince-Duke of Fausta, and Crown-Prince of Arrel.”

The ballroom’s doors opened and Cassia watched her son walk inside. As with her, the bows and curtsies piled on, but this time, there were some awkward glances and hushed whispers as well. Fadan looked like he had just jumped out of bed. His black hair was a mess, and instead of a gala uniform, he was donning a simple, brown tunic, as if this was just a regular day and he was on his way to a combat lesson.

Cassia rushed to his side, ignoring the courtesans that had approached her in the hopes of striking up a conversation with the Empress.

“Are you alright?” she asked, placing a hand on Fadan’s shoulder.

He nodded. “I’m fine,” he said. “I tried to visit you, but there wer
e
‒
‒
”

“I know,” she said. “They won’t be there anymore after today.”

Fadan nodded and the two of them went quiet.

“What is the meaning of this!?” the Emperor demanded as he stormed up next to them. “Dressed like a servant… You’re not even wearing a weapon. You’re the host of this ball!”

“No,” Fadan replied, facing his father. “You are.”

For a moment, Cassia almost expected steam to come out of Tarsus’ ears.

“This is not the time, nor the moment,” the Emperor said. “We will have this discussion later!” He turned to Cassia. “Put some sense into your son’s head.” With that, he turned on his heel and left.

The two of them stood there, watching Tarsus march away.

“Aggravating your father won’t bring Aric back,” Cassia said.

“No, but neither will pleasing him.”

A Duchess with hair piled high above her head stepped next to them, pushing a young daughter towards Fadan. The girl was as thin as a reed and was shaking like one as well.

“Not now!” Fadan barked at them.

Mother and daughter grimaced, frightened, and scurried away without a word.

Cassia sighed. “None of this is any of that girl’s fault,” she said.

“I don’t care,” Fadan replied. “I don’t care about that girl. I don’t care about this ball. I don’t care about my fathe
r‒
”

“Fadan!” Cassia pleaded. “Please, don’t. You’re angry, I know. No one understands you better than me. But I already lost your brother. I need you to keep yourself together.”

“We didn’t lose Aric,” Fadan corrected. He reached into a pocket. “I have something for you.”

Cassia grabbed the small pouch. Inside, she found a necklace, where a Glowstone shard as thin as a needle dangled. The empress immediately closed her fingers around the jewel and tucked it against her stomach, her head swiveling around and looking in every direction.

“Who gave this to you?” she asked urgently. “Where did you get this?”

“Doric gave it to Aric,” Fadan replied. “When they met in the city. Aric was supposed to hand it to you that night, but… but then everything went to heck.” He looked into his mother’s eyes. “It was my idea, mother. Please forgive me.”

“What was your idea?” Cassia asked, confused. “Wait, you mean… You were there? With Aric and Doric? You were
there
?"