The Dragon's War (3 page)

“This is an invitation to the Alfar Ceremony of Assumption,” Skye said in wonder.

“You are the leader of the Tavinter,” Dallan reminded her, “as well as First Ranger of the Ha’kan. It is only proper that you attend.”

“Are all of you going?” Skye asked.

“No,” Dallan said, shaking her head. “My mother must attend because it’s her royal duty, and I must stay behind because it’s mine.”

There was a trace of disappointment in Dallan’s voice, but it was eclipsed by her delight. “I get to run the country while my mother is gone.”

“Really?” Skye asked, her eyes glowing at the thought. “And you will be in charge of the military?” she asked, turning to Rika.

“I will,” Rika said with pride. “Senta will leave behind her Second-in-Command, of course, just in case. But the forces will be mine in her absence.”

“And Kara will head the Scholar’s caste, and the Ministry will be mine,” Lifa said. “The Queen thought this was a very good opportunity for us to ‘practice,’ if you will.”

“And ‘tis safest,” Dallan commented, “just in case.” Her countenance darkened at the thought. “Although I’m sure nothing will happen to my mother as long as Senta is with her.”

“And don’t forget Raine,” Rika said, nudging her friend. “It’s certain she’ll be there, and there’s no safer place than at her side.”

“That’s true,” Dallan said, breathing a little easier. “And it’s only for a fortnight.”

“Perhaps I should stay,” Skye said doubtfully. Both options sounded wonderful.

“You are a head of state,” Dallan reminded her, “and a member of my mother’s staff, so it is appropriate for you to go. Although I admit,” Dallan said, ruffling her hair, “I would not let you go if the trip were any longer. You just got back.”

“That parting is still months off,” Lifa said, “so let’s enjoy our time together.”

Chapter 2

T
he Ha’kan capital was decorated in dazzling style with colorful streamers, flowers, and banners. The castle courtyard glittered with red and gold armor, pastel gowns, and lovely intricate robes as the communal society came together as one. Skye walked around in a daze of disbelief, unable to comprehend that a great deal of the celebration was for her. It reminded her of the celebration at the Academy many years ago, when the girls’ mothers came to see their offspring, and of course, to see one another.

She came across a group of women who were a few years older than Dallan and her cohort. All Ha’kan were beautiful, but this group was stunning. They all seemed to know one another and greeted each other with enthusiastic hugs. Skye watched them curiously, for there was something strangely familiar about all of them although she was certain they had never met. Then Lifa came out, flowed toward them, and the greetings were even more passionately enthusiastic. Skye had a sudden attack of shyness and stepped back into the shadows, but Lifa caught sight of her movement.

“Oh, no you don’t,” she said, laughing, and went to capture the Tavinter. She took Skye by the hand and led her to the group of smiling women.

“So this is the one we have heard so much about.”

The woman speaking was a statuesque Scholar, perhaps the largest one Skye had ever seen. Her brown eyes were intelligent and warm, framed with long dark eyelashes that set off splendid features.

“I am honored to meet you,” Skye said, bowing while her cheeks grew warm.

“Oh, she is adorable,” said another, the emphasis leaving no doubt that Skye had been a topic of conversation, although Skye was not certain with whom.

The woman speaking was a Priestess, possessing the provocative, sultry elegance that the truly gifted in the Ministry possessed. The woman next to her was a warrior, but possessed a great deal of the same seductive manner. Skye wondered if they were related. The fourth of the foursome was also a warrior, slighter in frame, winsome, but just as magnetic as her three companions.

Then Dallan and Rika rushed into the courtyard and an explosion of greetings and happy reunions commenced, and Skye took the opportunity to take a step back to observe the curious scene. To her surprise, Dallan and Rika were joined by Gimle and Senta, then Astrid gracefully joined the melee of embraces. Finally, even the Queen herself arrived and joined the tumult.

“Who are these women?” Skye murmured to herself.

“You don’t know?” Kara said, having slipped up beside her.

“No,” Skye said, “they all look so familiar, but I’m sure I’ve never met them.”

“There is a reason they look so familiar,” Kara said. “The tall scholar there, Runa, that’s Senta’s daughter.”

“Senta has a daughter?” Skye exploded, then covered her mouth as Kara laughed. Skye was thankful the group of women was still so boisterous, otherwise they would have heard her outburst.

“Of course she has a daughter.”

“And her daughter is a scholar?” Skye asked in disbelief.

“Why not?” Kara asked, as if the question were nonsensical. “All Ha’kan are allowed to choose their professions, and unless completely unsuitable, that becomes their vocation. I have never really known anyone to be refused. The slender warrior there, that is Solvi, who is Gimle’s daughter.”

Skye stared in wonder at the lovely warrior in the embrace of the First Scholar, who did indeed look a great deal like her mother.

“And the other two?” Skye said, almost afraid to ask.

Kara gave her a wicked look. “You know who they are,” she said over her shoulder as she went to join the greetings.

And indeed Skye did know the two women as each hung on the arm of their mother, the High Priestess of the Ha’kan. Astrid kissed both of her beautiful daughters, showing no more favor to the priestess than she did the warrior, for both filled the vast space of her heart. And as the warrior daughter sent Skye a smoldering, knowing glance, Skye realized that she probably took after her mother just as much as her sister, regardless of vocation.

Skye sighed, realizing there was still so much about Ha’kan culture that she didn’t grasp. And although she had spent so many of the last few years with Dallan and her staff, she knew very little about their lives before the Academy. They had probably known these women most of their lives. She quietly left the inner courtyard.

Astrid watched her departure, as did her future successor. Lifa started to go after her when she felt a hand on her arm. Eira, Astrid’s younger daughter had stayed her progress.

“Might I?” she asked.

“Of course,” Lifa said, and her gratitude was genuine. “I’m sure she’s heading for the archery range.”

“Then I will go keep her company.”

Dallan had also watched Skye’s departure with concern, and was pleased to see Eira go after her. Eira was one of the best archers in the Ha’kan forces and would provide Skye with a little competition, among other things. And as Dallan took Astrid’s other daughter, Embla, upon her arm, she thought it was perhaps those “other things” that would do Skye the most good.

Skye walked to the row of bows lining the rack. Many women greeted her as she passed, and she was pleased that names and faces were returning to her. And she was comforted by the fact that those she didn’t recognize probably were from out of town.

The bows were all wonderfully crafted, but one in particular caught her eye. It was unique amongst the long and short bows on the rack, for it occupied a space somewhere in between. It was longer than a short bow, but not quite as long as the sturdier weapons. Its curve was graceful, again a balance between the two weapons. And its design was different, with a smooth craftsmanship that was distinctly Tavinter. Skye lifted the weapon from the rack and ran her fingers down the surface.

“This is my bow,” she murmured. It was as solid a moment she had experienced since her memories began flooding back on first sight of Dallan. She smiled to herself. “This is my bow.”

“That’s a beautiful weapon.”

Skye glanced up at the loveliness that was Astrid’s daughter, the one who was a warrior.

“I’m Eira,” she said, extending her hand, and Skye grasped her forearm to forearm in the traditional greeting between Ha’kan warriors.

“I’m Skye,” Skye said, then blushed. “But I guess you already know that.”

“Are you going to compete?” Eira said, pointing at the preparations for the archery contest. It was popular for the Ha’kan to fire at small, tarry balls of hay that were launched from miniature catapults as practice. Some targets were already flying through the air, and women were taking turns playfully knocking them down.

“I don’t think so,” Skye said. “I’m really out of practice.”

Skye recognized several members of the Royal Guard who were bringing down the targets with considerable skill. The unique insignia on their armor brought Skye’s gaze back to Eira.

“You’re a member of the Royal Guard!” Skye exclaimed.

“I am,” Eira said with both the pride and humility. Skye was used to such contradictions with the Ha’kan, for they were always proud of the collective while minimizing their individual achievements.

“But you’re not assigned to the castle.”

“No,” Eira said, “I have a very special assignment. It’s the duty of my unit to protect the former High Priestess, who has retired to her childhood home. It’s more of a formality for she is practically worshipped there and no harm would ever come to her.”

“That’s wonderful,” Skye said.

Eira drew her bow and took a place on the line. She began firing with a methodical skill as she continued talking.

“I hope to eventually protect the Queen and her staff. That would be a great honor.”

Skye, too, took the line, but she was nervous. Eira was skilled even for the very talented Royal Guard, and Skye hadn’t fired a bow in months. She frowned. She had been sitting around eating chocolates and sipping tea with her mortal enemy. This thought made her even more distracted, and the bow hung limply in her hand.

Senta stood next to one of the nearest catapults and watched her First Ranger stand there indecisively. She was joined by Rika who frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. Even Torsten slipped up beside her, his approach silent until he made himself known.

“That’s not good,” he muttered. “She’s thinking too much.”

“Torsten,” Senta said thoughtfully, “what say we turn a few of these catapults around?”

Torsten did not at first see what she was getting at, but then he understood. “Better make it five or six. And light the missiles on fire.”

Senta raised an eyebrow at Torsten’s ruthless raising of the stakes, but he knew Skye better than anyone. She signaled the operators of the two catapults nearest her, who looked at her as if she had lost her mind. Rika and Torsten adjusted two others. The flight paths of the poised missiles were altered, the balls were ignited, then all waited for Senta’s signal.

Eira paused on the line, catching sight of the curious actions of the First General. Skye was oblivious, staring at a patch of dirt in front of her with a frown on her face. She was entirely someplace else, that much was certain. Which is why Eira was more than a little concerned when Senta gave a signal and suddenly five balls of fire were flying right at Skye. She tensed to tackle the Tavinter to get her out of the way.

But that was not necessary as the bow came up as if it possessed a will of its own. An arrow was notched and flying while a second appeared to leave the bow almost at the same time. Both arrows flew true, in opposite directions, impaling and redirecting the balls of flame that came from either side. A third arrow was already in the air, this one dead center to where two of the targets converged, impaling both with such force the single arrow reversed their course. It did not appear that Skye would get off the fourth arrow, however, and the ball of flame was near to striking her when she simply took a stance, then thrust the arrow forward as if it were a sword, cleanly impaling the flaming ball of tar and hay and stopping it instantly. She stared at the missile on the end of her arrow as the fire smoked, then went out, and a slow smile spread across her features.

All on the line had stopped in astonishment at a feat none thought they could replicate, one that the Tavinter had accomplished with ease. Skye dropped the arrow to the ground and snuffed out the remaining flame with her boot.

“You were a little slow on that last one,” Senta called out across the field, which caused much laughter amongst the Royal Guard and a lot of shaking heads. They knew the formidable First General was as impressed as they were.

“I will try harder next time, First General,” Skye called back.

“Welcome back, First Ranger,” one of the Royal Guard called out, a sentiment echoed throughout the field.

Eira moved back next to Skye on the line. “So, that is ‘out of practice’ for you.”

“Well,” Skye said, feeling all of her confidence returning, “maybe I’m not as rusty as I thought.”

The entire day was play. Skye spent some time on the archery range, joyfully challenging Torsten to games they made up, just as they did when they were children. Eira joined in, no matter how ridiculous the rules, and Senta was pleased to see that the deadly precision of her First Ranger had returned with a vengeance.

Then Dallan and Rika came along and the play moved to swordsmanship. The Princess had picked up on Skye’s penchant for creating outlandish challenges. Lifa settled into the stands to watch and Skye waved to her, then blushed profusely, for Lifa was surrounded by Priestesses. Some were from Lifa’s own inner circle, Leya, Freya, and Ama, but Astrid flanked Lifa on one side and on the other was a woman as magnetic as the High Priestess. She had her arm around Lifa’s waist and Skye recognized Helena, Lifa’s mother, from the celebration at the Academy.

The Queen joined the spectators, which only encouraged Dallan to ramp up the exuberant chaos of the free-for-all. Although none equaled Skye with a bow, the sword was Dallan’s forte and even Senta was tasked with keeping up with her. Senta had been responsible for much of Dallan’s training and was pleased to see her pupil close to surpassing her. Still, the joy of mock battle was not enough to deter the First General from her duties. When she locked swords with Dallan, she leaned in close to whisper to her.