The Dragon Hunter and the Mage (56 page)

“I won’t be alone,” Fadan replied. “Besides,” he showed his mother a hand and it burst into flames, startling his mother, “I can defend myself.” He looked at Venia. “Can you get my mother out of Augusta?”

“I can,” the spy replied.

Cassia’s head swung from Fadan to Venia then back again, her lips attempting to form words. “I… where will we go? How will I find you?”

“We’ll find a way, your majesty,” Venia replied. “Leave that to me.”

Cassia swallowed through the constriction in her throat, then sighed. She slowly removed her Glowstone pendant from her neck. “The enchantment is weak, but it still works,” she said.

The thin, blue shard swung around like a pendulum until it stopped, obliquely, as if a magnet was pulling it sideways.

Fadan grabbed the necklace, but Cassia clenched her fingers.

“Please, be careful.”

With a smile, Fadan hugged his mother. “You too.”

The cry of a seagull woke Fadan. He felt sweaty, despite the cold breeze, and his arm flattened against the wooden deck, itched with numbness. He sat up, leaning on the ship’s bulwark, the Saffya’s tame undulation sprinkling water on his arms and face.

A single, tall mast dominated the seventy-foot-long river barge. It creaked as the boat swung from one side to other.

“Good morning,” Lucilla said. She was standing next to Fadan, holding onto the eagle’s head on the ship’s keel. “Not the most comfortable place you’ve slept in, I imagine.”

“Yes, one would imagine that, wouldn’t they?” Fadan said, rubbing at his eyes. 

Besides Lucilla and the sailors steering the ship, everyone else seemed to still be asleep, wrapped in cloaks and spread around the dummy cargo occupying most of the deck.

Fadan stood, the freezing wind cutting across his cheeks. “Is that Capra?” he asked.

The silhouettes of buildings grew on the horizon, spreading north and south like a mountain range.

“We should be docking within the hour,” Lucilla replied.

The Prince reached into his shirt. He had both his mother’s necklace and
the Transmogaphon around his neck.

“I’m wearing more Glowstone than most people have seen their whole lives,” he said, taking the artifacts out. He held his mother’s pendant up and the tiny blue shard stretched westward. “I suppose we’re still headed in the right direction. How far behind do you reckon we are?”

“Hard to say, but we should know more as soon as we dock. Our people in Capra will have taken notice of a prisoner shipment that large. Most importantly, they’ll need to move the prisoners into a seaworthy vessel. It should delay them at least an hour.”

“We’ll need to have a faster ship than theirs,” Fadan said.

Lucilla nodded. “Most of our ships are fast. We can’t afford to be boarded very often, and we’ll be travelling much lighter. I think our chances are good.”

Another taller, wider ship, travelling up the river, passed by them, a couple hundred feet off their port side. It left a trail of tall waves in its wake which sent their own ship into a series of steep climbs and falls. The turbulence woke several of the sleeping crewmembers with startled noises as waves showered over the deck.

Lucilla closed her eyes, water pouring over her. As the river calmed down, she reopened her eyes, wiping water off her shaved skull. “What does trouble me, though, is how many guards will we be facing,” she said. “I think it’s pretty likely we’ll be heavily outnumbered. Which means we will be counting on your magic.”

The Prince was now soaked and shivering. He sent Lucilla a resentful look. “Yeah, thanks. I definitely needed to hear that.”

In her years in the Citadel, Cassia had had few pleasures. Watching both her sons chasing each other in the gardens around the Core Palace, taking a warm bath in the Citadel thermae all by herself, and, of course, humiliating Tarsus over a game of Lagaht.

The Emperor wasn’t a terribly bad player, but he was predictable. No matter what was happening in the game, he would always attack any vulnerable piece he spotted. Every time Cassia laid out a trap she had a feeling that her luck had finally run out, that there was no chance Tarsus would fall for it again. And yet he would do exactly that. This wasn’t the sole reason she almost always managed to defeat him, but it certainly helped.

The board they were using today was Tarsus’ favorite; an alabaster hexagon with a mountain range occupying most of its center, which forced the battles to take place on the edges of the map. It made for interesting choices.

A fire warmed Cassia’s legs and glared on the polished surface of the miniature armies. The Emperor’s lines were in shambles. His right flank had all but fallen, which meant it was a matter of time before Cassia’s silver cavalry trampled over his reserves.

What an odd way to say goodbye,
she thought, glancing over the golden leftovers of her husband’s forces.

Tarsus bent forward and moved a horseman, taking one of Cassia’s swords, but, in turn, exposing itself to one of her spears. He was getting desperate, sacrificing pieces he could no longer afford to lose. How wonderfully ironic.

Cassia didn’t need much time to think about her next move. All that was left for her to do was bring her cavalry across from Tarsus’ defeated right flank and mop up his survivors. Her horse clinked on the alabaster board like a Legionary’s boot on the marble steps of the palace, and she leaned back in her chair.

One of the reasons she truly loved these games was how little they talked. There was no need to weigh her answers, disguise her contempt, or restrain herself from snapping at him. She could just enjoy beating him at something he considered himself superior. 

Come to think of it, this is the perfect way to say goodbye.

Venia wouldn’t need more than a couple of hours to arrange their escape. As soon as this game was over, the two of them would be on their way.

There was a crackle in the fireplace, and a log tumbled and rolled across the hearth. Tarsus glanced at it.

“That seems like a bad omen,” he said.

Cassia looked at her husband, the fire’s orange hue trembling over the wrinkles of his face. “Since when are you superstitious?”

“It’s not superstition if it involves fire, my dear,” Tarsus replied. He leaned over the board, scanned his few remaining pieces, and pulled a spear back from his main force.

“Is there anything you regret, Tarsus?” Cassia heard herself ask. She regretted those words as soon as they left her mouth. She couldn’t afford to act suspiciously.

The Emperor stared at her, contemplating the question with absolute seriousness. “Yes,” he replied as Cassia moved another one of her horses, closing the jaws of her army around Tarsus’ vulnerable forces.

“Care to be a little more specific?” she asked, leaning back with a satisfied smile on her face.

Tarsus ignored the Lagaht board for a while and glanced outside. A heavy downpour rattled the wide windows of the room.

“I regret…” He paused, considering his words. “I regret bringing your other son to the Citadel.” He looked into her eyes. “He should have stayed with his father. I think it would have saved us all a lot of bitterness.” Tarsus focused on the game again. “Besides, a boy should be with his father.”

Cassia shifted on her chair, struggling to keep her mouth closed. What bothered her the most about what he had just said was how much sense it made.

There was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Cassia said far too quickly.

Venia padded inside. “I have completed my chores, your majesty,” she said, her head low.

The Empress was forced to hold down a smile. “You should rest then. Come, warm yourself by the fire.”

Venia quietly obeyed while the Emperor moved one of his pieces. He was trying to rearrange his troops into a more defensible formation.

It was time to finish him off. Cassia consulted her hand. She still had one last spell card. One of the best in this board’s entire deck. She laid it down, showing Tarsus its content:
Choose and destroy an enemy piece for every enemy piece you take during the next three turns.

Tarsus’ eyebrows jumped. “I guess this is it,” he said.

A chuckle escaped Cassia. “I guess so.”

Before Tarsus could make his move, however, there was another knock. The door opened to let Sagun inside. The Castellan strode towards the Emperor without a word and leaned into his ear. Cassia watched him whisper, trying to read her husband’s blank expression.

The Emperor nodded and waved Sagun out of the room. “I still have one spell card left as well,” he told Cassia.

The door of the study clicked shut behind Sagun and Cassia sat up straighter.

“I am a firm believer in patience,” Tarsus added, showing her his last card. It read:
Take control of every active enemy spell
. He stood up, throwing the card onto the alabaster board. “You’re still able to take some of my pieces, but in the next three turns, I’ll destroy half of your army. By then, you’ll be the outnumbered one. You may want to see this game through to the very end, but as far as I’m concerned, it is over.” He stepped away from the table and yelled towards the door. “Send him in.”

The study’s double doors burst open and a bloodied Lord Fabian stumbled inside, crashing to the floor, flanked by a pair of Paladins.

Augusta’s Docks could be the Empire’s commercial heart, but this was its brain, and it was busy.

Capra was the gateway to the Saffyan route, a sprawling metropolis surrounding its magnificent port. Or, better yet, ports, as there were two of them, the riverside port and the seaside port, connected by a large canal. Both were magnificent feats of engineering, consisting of artificial bays capable of docking hundreds of ships at the same time. A network of towers, some surrounding the two ports, others erupting from the water, stood watch over the ceaseless comings and goings of ships.

At the center of the riverside port stood a circular fortification, connected to the shore by a single stone bridge. The island fort had its own docking piers around its outer wall, and, docked to them, Fadan recognized the third flotilla of the Western Fleet. One hundred Imperial war galleys, each bridled with ballistae like a wild beast baring its fangs.

After mooring the river barge, the group proceeded to the seaside port, where Lucilla assured them a ship had been prepared and was waiting for them.