DragonCrown Saga - The Grand Crusade Part 50

"What prevents you from being bored right now?"

Vrusuroel's lower jaw gaped for a moment. Spittle flowed and burned down the tower's black stone. "I wish to see if you will strike a bargain. The fragments here for your safe conduct south."

Trawyn frowned. "If you know the fragments are here, why not just take the tower down and sift the debris?"

"Would Trawyn of Loquellyn wish reconsideration of my part of the bargain?"

Resolute laid a hand on her shoulder. "We'll accept, with one caveat. You will take us south to Princess Alexia and her army, and you will aid me in one other task."

"And that would be?"

Resolute shook his head. "Wondering about it will prevent you from being bored."

Vrusuroel raised his head and snorted, sending twin jets of flame into the frigid air. "Very well. Provide the Truestones, make a riding harness, and away south will you go."

ORIOSA.

King Scrainwood peered out the window of his throne room and watched the people dancing in the streets. Torches and lanterns burned brightly in the night, and bonfires blazed at crossroads despite the early summer's heat. Gyrkyme had brought the news of Chytrine's defeat within a day of its happening, and the celebrations had continued for the half week since.

Scrainwood had known instantly when she died. She had made him one of hersullanciri, but he had not known what power she'd given him. Upon her death it manifested. Thoughts and images, rushes of power, filled him so swiftly that he literally fainted and had spent two days in bed. He had even raved feverishly, but those attending him put it down to his fear of Erlestoke's return rather than any fundamental transformation on his part.

While he lay in the throes of these changes, Scrainwood did what he did best: he schemed. Part of the knowledge he'd been given was of Chytrine's life-literally, her life flashed before his eyes as she died.

He did his best to ignore all the forces that shaped her, for he found those boring. But the Oromise fascinated him, and he expected them to reach him somehow. He even contemplated a trip north to finish what Chytrine had started, but not quite yet.

She, it seemed, had failed in her quest because of her failure to recognize when she was at her best. Her disguise as Tatyana of Okrannel had been brilliant and did more to sow discord and chaos in the south than any military action she undertook. Had she remained in the shadows, she could have sundered the south and conquered them at her leisure.

He would not repeat her mistake, and had an advantage in that he already dwelt in the shadows. No one knew he was asullanciri, so they would not fear him on those grounds. In fact, given that his nation had proved itself in defeating Chytrine, he would be courted by many. While Erlestoke might be a bother, Scrainwood knew he did not really want to govern Oriosa.If I give my support to others, they will support my suggestion that Erlestoke become the new Draconis baron.

Scrainwood smiled. The moment he'd recovered from his transformation he'd usedarcanslatato propose that the crowns who had so recently met at Narriz come to Meredo for another conference that would decide the fate of the world after Chytrine. He pointed out that the problem of the DragonCrown would have to be solved once and for all, as well as the political situations in Sebcia, Noriva, and Muroso.

Either those nations would be rebuilt or part.i.tioned, and meeting to divide the spoils was something no one would avoid.

And once I have them here... He idly twisted the ring he wore and sensed no hostility toward him beyond a few malcontents somewhere in the city. With the powers Chytrine had given him, he could have reached out and found them easily. Depending on their strength of will and the distance, he could even have influenced their thoughts to the point of having them kill themselves.

That, however, was too trivial a use for his power. Once he had the crowns together, then he could manipulate them into hating each other. Little wars would blossom all through the land. Played correctly one against another, the nations would be weakened to the point where he could establish an empire.

Once I do that, the decision to release the Oromise will be mine. They will find I bargain far harder than Chytrine ever did.

He turned from the window and caught a flash of motion from the shadows across the room. Something whirred through the air, then the bladestar hit him square in the chest. One of the blades cracked his breastbone and drove into his heart. The metal tore tissue and the poison on the weapon began to spread throughout his body. He could feel it burning through his arteries. They weakened, and blood began to leak through them.

Scrainwood absently calculated that if he were mortal he would have been dead before he could pull the weapon free. Even as he tugged at it, his lip curled in a snarl at the figure emerging from the shadows.

"You know this can't hurt me."

Resolute shrugged. "It wasn't meant to. It was meant to get your attention. Now that I have it, I'll kill you."

Scrainwood snorted. "You're bluffing. You want something. The red fragment, is that it?"

The Vorquelf drew his sword. "No, that I can find, thanks to Kerrigan, and I have a dragon to fly me there as he did here. Likewise, thanks to Kerrigan, you think I'm bluffing because that ring isn't telling you I'm hostile."

Scrainwood glanced at the ring as he yanked the weapon from his chest. Blood spurted, splashing over the ring, then the wound began to close. "This isn't possible."

"It is. The Vilwanese fixed the ring so it wouldn't recognize me." He lunged and Syverce stabbed through the bloodstained rent in Scrainwood's jerkin. The king backed away, trying to slide off the blade, but Resolute stayed with him and kept the blade buried as Scrainwood fell to the ground.

Resolute loomed over him. "It's not just murder. Chytrine told her daughter that things were in place to continue her reign after her death. You were the best choice." He shrugged and twisted the sword's blade. "Not that I wouldn't have killed you anyway, but now I won't feel bad about enjoying it."

Scrainwood opened his mouth, but blood instead of words poured forth.

The Vorquelf shook his head. "I'll choose to a.s.sume your last words concerned not yourself but your heir. I'll not leave your body here to be discovered. You'll just vanish. Only you and I will know what happened. If you think your people are happy now, just imagine how joyously they will greet King Erlestoke."

VILWAN.

Kerrigan Reese's arrival at Vilwan on the back of Vrusuroel seemed to surprise everyone save for the Grand Magister. By the time he and Rymramoch had dismounted in the courtyard before the Grand Magister's alabaster tower, two purple-robed Adepts Kerrigan had never seen before arrived and conducted the pair into the tower. They offered refreshment and bid them wait in an antechamber to the Council of Magisters.

As the two of them departed, Kerrigan smiled and glanced at his dragon mentor. "What would Resolute do?"

Rymramoch laughed and flicked a gloved hand toward the chamber's ma.s.sive bronze doors. They rippled and snapped like diaphanous drapes in a gale, then froze in that position, all twisted and wrapped halfway around the chamber columns nearest the door.

Kerrigan strode into the room and glanced around at the men and women gathered there. The circular chamber's domed ceiling was upheld by twelve columns-one for each of the twelve divisions of the floor. Each of the eight magickal disciplines had its own section of the floor, from Combat to Conjuration, with two for the Grand Magister himself, and one each for the Magisters of Personnel and Suppression.

None of them looked pleased to see him, though neither the Magister of Combat nor the Grand Magister let their discomfort register on their faces for more than a heartbeat.

The wizened old man who was the Grand Magister raised his open hands above his stooped shoulders.

"We welcome your return to Vilwan, Adept Reese. Your efforts on our behalf have been noted and praised. We are inordinately proud of you."

Kerrigan raked fingers back through his hair. "I'd ask you to forgive me for what I'm about to say, but I really don't care if you do or not. I've come from Oriosa. I did some investigating. I know about the Bloodmasks."

The Magister of Suppression, a corpulent woman with grey hair, cleared her throat. "The Bloodmasks were not authorized by anyone here. That was Magister Tadurienne's doing entirely. Once we learned of what she had done, she was returned here, tried, and sanctioned. She is dead."

"Slain for her failure, no doubt, not her effort." Kerrigan shook his head. "When I left here I might have been naive enough to believe you, but now I know better. A company of warmages doesn't just wander off and commit murder and mayhem without someone here knowing about it. And the crowns, as they gather in Meredo, will hear about it. They will know Vilwan has dabbled in politics and allied itself with one of Chytrine'ssullanciri''

Suppression raised her hand. "Do not be hasty, Adept Reese. We have dealt with this matter. There is no need for you to share your insights with the crowns."

Kerrigan shook his head. "You're not listening to me. I don't have to share it. Erlestoke already knows.

The Addermages figured it out for themselves. They know and the crowns will know."

The Grand Magister chuckled lightly. "But we will explain to them what they know, Kerrigan.

Unbeknownst to us, Tadurienne had become a servant of Chytrine. She had a history with Heslin."

"Neskartu." The young mage nodded. "A mage you put in service to the Norringtons because you knew they were special even before the prophecy, yes? Someone saw something and you acted to control the Norrington bloodline?"

"We sought to safeguard it."

Kerrigan's eyes narrowed as a couple of facts connected themselves in his mind. "No, 'control' is the right word. I've talked with Crow. I know the truth of Kenwick Norrington's bloodline. You prevented his father from being able to produce children, didn't you? You sterilized him. And why? Because you saw far enough in advance to know that, if there was a Norrington, this day would come."

The Magister of Clairvoyance shook his head. "And what day is that?"

"The day that changes Vilwan forever."

The Magister of Conjuration snarled. "I told you twenty years ago that breeding our own hero to make the Norrington superfluous would not stave off disaster."

"Disaster for whom?" Kerrigan pointed to the east. "You are fools, all of you. Centuries ago, after Kirun's reign of terror made you fear for Vilwan's future, you agreed to hobble yourselves so you could continue your monopoly on power. Through the centuries, however, you resented what you had done.

You have no idea what you have lost, and when the time came that you needed it again, you didn't seek to educate everyone; you took people and fashioned us into weapons. Why? Because we would be easy to control, whereas knowledge is not.

"I am not a puppet. You do not control me, nor do you control your own fate."

The Grand Magister's face darkened. "No? Who does? You?"

"If you force me to it, yes."

Suppression laughed. "To what end would you control Vilwan, Reese? Do you believe that as Grand Magister you will be given a voice at Meredo? Do you think the crowns will let you pull together all the pieces of the DragonCrown so you can unmake it?"

"Yes, that's one thing. They will let me do that."

She shook her head slowly. "I tell you this with no animus, but they will never agree to it. None of them will trust you because, no matter how much they owe you for Chytrine's defeat, they fear, Kerrigan Reese. Theyfearwhat will happen in the moment you don that Crown so you can take it apart again. You are the most powerful mage in the world, perhaps the equal of Kirun. They cannot chance that with the Crown in your power you will not control all dragons and lay waste to the world."

Kerrigan's green eyes narrowed. "And do you know why that is?" Suppression shrugged. "You'll tell me."

"It's because you hold all the power. You set yourselves up to be the equal of the crowns, so they see you-us,me-as their rivals, not their partners and helpers. I hope, for the sake of the world, your prediction will not come true." Clairvoyance smiled. "It will."

"Then I have even more work to do here. Vilwan is going to change, from top to bottom. We will teach everyone all we can. We will teach them all disciplines andstylesof magick."

Combat, bare-chested, with his hands clasped at the small of his back, raised an eyebrow. "Styles?"

"We will incorporate bits of various traditions. Elven, urZrethi, Murosan, Zhusk, and even hydromancy."

"Hydromancy?"

"Yes, Grand Magister. We have a cadre of wizards who have been trained in Tagothcha's realm. We will even explore the methods Neskartu used in his Conservatory."

The Grand Magister shook his head. "No, none of that is possible. The crowns would not allow it, though they matter not. You will be stopped, here and now, for you will destroy magick."

Kerrigan snorted. "I will destroy your grip on power. You can't stop me." The Grand Magister laughed harshly and his eyes burned with an arcane purple light. "Neither you nor this puppet behind you has enough power to defy us.

Kerrigan glanced again at Rymramoch. "You were right. Stopping at Vael en route was a good idea. In this situation, what would Resolute do?"

Rymramoch nodded once, then his body expanded. He grew to ten feet in height, with spikes bristling up through his robe. Claws shredded his gloves and his mask fell away to reveal a scarlet-scaled face with glowing eyes. Smoke drifted from his slit nostrils, and ivory fangs flashed as he spoke. "I believe, Kerrigan Reese, he would proceed with a graphic demonstration of where they have overestimated their power."

"Right." Kerrigan curled his hands down into fists and felt power gather in them. "Minimize the damage to the real estate. It, unlike the people here, may be useful in the future."

VORQUELLYN.

Alexia, Queen of Okrannel, stood proudly among her peers. The blue gown she had donned had been trimmed hem, cuff, and neckline with black ribbon in mourning for her grandfather. He'd pa.s.sed away in his sleep the very day she had defeated the Aurolani forces. Crow, Perrine, and Preyknosery knew she also wore the ribbon for her father, to honor the man who should have had the throne she now claimed.

The day could not have been more beautiful, with the summer sun shining brightly in a cloudless sky.

Rumors had abounded that vast sums had been given to Tagothcha to keep the ocean calm and the day bright, but she knew the truth of it. She'd seen King Erlestoke wade into the Saslynnae bay and speak with his mother, asking her to make sure the day would be perfect.

For her part, Alexia could not have been happier, both to be on Vorquellyn and well away from Meredo. The crowns-in person or later through envoys- had discussed and argued for two months over topics trivial and substantial. There seemed to be little differentiation between the two cla.s.ses of items, since both were argued with equal pa.s.sion and length. For the most part the trivial decisions were made with minimal pain, but not so the substantial ones.

The first and key battle had concerned the fate of Muroso and the other nations that had been overrun by the Aurolani forces. After Nefrai-kesh's defeat, Markus Adrogans had taken command of the army, freeing the crowns to head south to Meredo. He had cleared the Aurolani from Sebcia and chased them north to Aurolan. He stationed a force at the gap, then returned to the ruins of Fortress Draconis and established it as his new headquarters.

Muroso lay in ruins and a number of nations wanted to make it and Sebcia into an international zone, akin to Fortress Draconis, so if another force in the north arose, they would all be prepared to defeat it.

That was the pretense, in any event, under which discussions began. In truth-and everyone knew it-the various nations wanted to colonize the two nations and reap the economic benefits of trade.

Erlestoke engineered a solution that preserved Murosan independence. He married his younger brother to Queen Sayce and pledged his nation's army to defend his sister nation to the north. Moreover, it was made known that he had influence with Tagothcha, and that any shipping going into or out of colonies would not make it home. The crowns, therefore, applauded the rebirth of Muroso.

Alexia glanced further down the reviewing stand, where Sayce and Linchmere stood together. They certainly made an odd couple, but a perfect one for what Muroso needed. Sayce had the fiery nature that made people see her as a leader. The story of her capture, escape from Aurolan, and return with the Norrington to kill Chytrine had already sp.a.w.ned several cycles of songs that guaranteed her immortality.

And Linchmere had grown in confidence, especially since his arm had been replaced. With the Freemen, he had displayed a talent for resource acquisition and distribution that was vital for rebuilding a nation. He retained Rounce Playfair as an economic advisor, putting the merchant's considerable trade experience and resources at his service.

Sebcia would likewise be rebuilt. Among the refugees there had been found someone distantly related to the old royal family, so that person was established as the ruler. Veterans of the war were given land grants in Sebcia to repay them for their service and many moved their families there. General Pandiculia of Salnia remembered her king having exiled her for defying him, so she chose to move to Sebcia. She became Regent for the ruler and the rebuilding of Sebcia began-starting with the destruction of the dam that kept the Eirsena captive.

Items that might have seemed more trivial were also argued at length. The nature of Nefrai-kesh's involvement with Chytrine's downfall became a point of interest because it was suggested that he truly was the Norrington who was Chytrine's undoing. The loss of Okrannel, the less than effective campaign defending Muroso and, ultimately, his inability to kill a Hawkins were all pointed to as reasons to a.s.sume he had slipped his leash and was working against his mistress. This concept comforted some of those whose countrymen and -women had becomesullanciri.

Alexia found herself unable to make a decision on the point. She knew his beingthe Norringtonwas nonsense because of his really being a Hawkins. That didn't help much because his action could be seen as actively aiding a Norrington in his quest to destroy Chytrine. After all, at his request, Sayce had not been slain and she'd proved important on the quest to kill the Nor'witch. On the other hand, Nefrai-kesh had not turned the Aurolani army on Chytrine, nor had he surrendered it. Were it not for Adrogans'

intervention, the south would have been badly hurt. As far as Alyx was concerned, that point could be debated without end.

Only two things in the Meredo meetings came as a surprise. Alexia favored the first, but still recalled the pain in Queen Carus' voice when she proposed Markus Adrogans should become the new Draconis Baron. She pointed out that he already possessed the fortress and that he also possessed the secret of firedirt. She read a message from Adrogans in which he said he intended to surrender neither, so the crowns were presented with a fait accompli, which they approved with much hollow speechmaking.

The surprise that disappointed her concerned the DragonCrown. Many impa.s.sioned speeches were made advocating its destruction, with Rymramoch speaking for dragons and offering the three fragments they had would the rest of the world agree to it. Kerrigan Reese, the new Grand Magister of Vilwan, explained what would be done, and even noted the various safeguards that he would put in place to make sure he did not become another Kirun, but that was all for naught.

Some of the crowns found his rise to power too ruthless for them to believe what he was saying. Alexia had spoken in his defense, but that mattered not. Too many of them still could not trust him. Moreover, as long as the DragonCrown could still be available, some crowns dreamed it might become theirs. That was reason enough for them to bar its destruction forever.

The example they make of Scrainwood is not someone who was wrong, but someone who failed in his attempts to take power.

In the end the dragons retained their three fragments and were said to have hidden them away in inaccessible places. Of the other four, two returned to Fortress Draconis and one was given to Tagothcha for safekeeping. The piece in Maroth returned to the Communion, with only Alexia, Crow, and Kerrigan being aware of its existence. While Rymramoch was able to identify the dragons who had their Truestones incorporated into the Crown, no one could tell the source of the Truestone in the centerpiece. Until that could be done and someone could figure out what effect it might have on someone wearing it, Alexia felt certain the DragonCrown would never be reconstructed and destroyed.

As if he was aware of how her thoughts were running, Crow reached over and took her left hand in his right and squeezed it gently. His long hair had been gathered at the nape of his neck with a leather tie fashioned from the ends of the cord binding his mask to him. King Erlestoke had revoked all edicts concerning Tarrant Hawkins, and a new coin had been struck with the Norrington and Hawkins crests on one side and the king's profile on the other. Coins with Scrainwood's face on them were quickly and happily exchanged for the new one, and Oriosa's minters were working all hours to meet demand.

Crow looked at her, and the mask he wore could not hide the joy on his face. "Soon, beloved, everything Resolute has waited and fought for will come true."

"I know, Crow, I know." She smiled at him and squeezed his hand back. "A century of effort is rewarded."

The reviewing stand on which they stood faced the courtyard before thecori-iesci. It had all been cleared of brambles and debris from the Aurolani occupancy. Gaily colored banners, bunting, and ribbons had been hung from nearby buildings, pillars, and trees to dance on the breeze. It made for strange foliage, but matched the wonderful costumes the Vorquelves wore.

Down in the front ranks Alexia saw Banausic and Predator looking very proper in soft silks of green, blue, and silver. Amends had come all the way from Yslin and, after some fierce discussion, was allowed to be in the first group of forty to be bound to Vorquellyn. He had dressed very well and Alexia was pleased to see his split lip was nearly healed.

Closest to her she spotted Oracle and Resolute. The seer wore a gown of pale yellow, with copper ribbons decorating it at the sleeves and hem. Slightly wider ribbons of the same hue twined around her waist, then up over her body, hugging the bodice tightly to her. She wore her white hair unbound, but small white flowers had been tucked into it at her temples. The whole of her attire made her seem little more than a child, and the huge smile she wore only added to that impression.

Resolute, by contrast, seemed an incarnation of Kedyn, the G.o.d of war to whom Crow had long ago pledged himself. Resolute wore black hunting leathers from boots to shoulders. The jerkin had no sleeves, but the hooded cloak of gibberer skin-trimmed now with white pelt strips fromkryalniriat the hem and hood-hid his arms. Unlike anyone else, he wore his sword and, she had no doubt, had a pouch of bladestars on his belt. The hood effectively hid his expression and reminded her, just for a chilling moment, of the way Nefrai-kesh's face had been veiled in Sebcia.