Michael Stackpole - When Dragons Rage

“But, Kerrigan, your spell let Orla’s spell work. And you’re forgetting all the stuff you did during the Svoin siege, and figuring out those spells when we were in Loquellyn, and your lighting up the firedirt that killed Chytrine’s troops and saved the people we were getting out of Fortress Draconis. You’ve done good, lots of good.

“And I know I haven’t been fair to you.” Will sighed. “I let Scabby Jack and Garrow’s gang beat you up. I said you froze when that big frostclaw came after you. I never told you I was sorry Orla died. I guess, growing up, I had friends, but I never had people I could trust like you could her. I saw how she was, and I envy you knowing her. She was a good person.”

“I know, and I miss her.”

They both sat there quietly for a moment. Will thought about Orla for a bit, then about Resolute and Crow. They were the first real friends he’d ever had, and the first people he could trust, because they trusted him. Granted, they had drawn him into things without telling him who he was, but time had let him see that they were trying to protect him, preparing him to accept his responsibility as the person who was prophesied to bring an end to Chytrine’s invasion of the south.

Kerrigan’s voice came soft through the night. “Did you ever think you’d be here, Will?”

“Here, in some forest in Oriosa, wearing a mask, freezing, while the most evil man in the world is sleeping with a beautiful princess and the most evil woman in the world is sending vast armies south to kill me? Not specifically, no.”

“You know what I mean.” The magicker’s hands emerged from beneath the blanket and he stared down at his open palms. “When I was growing up, I used to imagine things. I thought maybe I would become Grand Magister of Vilwan and invent new and wonderful spells. And other times I’d dream about opposing Chytrine, but in those dreams it would be the two of us in some wizards’ duel and I’d batter her down and save the world.

“But here I am, in a cold wood, talking to someone who is younger than me and, no disrespect intended, about as ill prepared to save the world as I am.”

“And don’t forget that we’re being hunted.”

“I haven’t.” Kerrigan glanced over at the tent. “Orla told me to follow Crow and Resolute, and now Crow turns out to be Hawkins and King Scrainwood will probably kill him. And I have a fragment, and you are a pawn of destiny, and Fortress Draconis has fallen, and my mentor is dead. Have I forgotten anything?”

Will grinned. “General Adrogans took Svoin, then burned it to the ground.”

“Oh, yeah.” Kerrigan winced. “Things are not going well.”

“When you look at it that way, yeah. I mean, if I’m the hope of the world, then the world ought to be feeling pretty worried.” Will shrugged. “Then again, we aren’t dead yet, we’ve killed a couple of Chytrine’s Dark Lancers, and there are two fragments that are not in her hands. The fact that Fortress Draconis has fallen means some folks are going to have to start doing things to stop Chytrine, so we have a chance.“

“Yes, we do at that.” Kerrigan nodded slowly. “And we will make the best of it. Pursuant to which, when I get this collection of things, I hide the fragment in it?”

Will shook his head. “Nope, but you’ll treat the collection as if it does contain something valuable. You’ll show folks some things, but never let them examine the collection itself. When we get to Meredo, that collection will be the thing they go after. And when they find there is nothing of value, they’ll just think you are crazy and have nothing to hide. And so they will stop looking.”

“That makes sense.” But despite his words, Kerrigan sounded uncertain. “In Meredo, you will help me hide it so no one will get it?”

Will stood, stretched, and stamped his feet. “Yes, we’ll find a place for it that no one will ever discover.”

Kerrigan’s brows furrowed and his jowls quivered. “But, logically, if we can find it, then it can’t be a place no one would ever… Oh, sorry.”

“We’ll find a place.” The thief smiled. “Trust me, Ker. You owe Chytrine for Orla, I owe her for my friends and more. Keeping that fragment from her is just the first part of paying her back.”

The rage radiating off King Scrainwood was colder than the north wind swirling snowflakes through the sky over Meredo. Alexia let it beat at her back as she looked out one of the throne room windows. She allowed herself the hint of a smile, imagining both the expression on Scrainwood’s face and the grin her describing his anger would put on Crow’s face. She very I much looked forward to sharing that with him.

Fuming, Scrainwood sat on his throne, his right fist tight and pounding I the arm, while his Minister of Protocol, Cartland Gapes, and the unctuous Cabot Marsham attempted to employ their brand of reason on the Okrans Ambassador, Vladoslav Svoinyk. She wished Perrine had accompanied her to | the meeting, but she could have easily imagined her Gyrkyme sister grabbing Marsham and soaring into the room’s vaults before dropping him.

“No disrespect intended to the House of Svarskya, the Kingdom of Okrannel, or the Princess Alexia herself,” Marsham offered, oozing contempt from each word, “but we all know this marriage is a sham. Clearly the Traitor deceived her into saying they had married to selfishly save his own worthless skin. His propensities for deception are the stuff of legend. His victims are known for their innocence. If the princess would merely give some indication of having been fooled, we shall…”

Gapes, who was tall with a thick mane of white hair, cut Marsham off. “What we meant, Ambassador, is this: we fully acknowledge the strength of Okrans nobility and their pride, for it is that pride which has kept them honed and ready to destroy Chytrine. Clearly that pride drove them to liberate Svoin, your family’s home city, and without such fierce pride, the princess could not have successfully led her companions on the daring raid that liberated the DragonCrown fragment from the Wruonin pirates. And that same pride and strength and overwhelming courage was what enabled her to bring our Princess Ryhope home again to Meredo, saving her life and those of her countrymen.

“This pride, however, must be balanced against the vaunted Okrans honor—the sort of honor displayed by her father as he gave his life at Fortress Draconis to save his boon companions from the sullanciri in Chytrine’s employ. It is certain that the princess must see how her liaison with the Traitor would bring shame upon her nation. Now, we have taken steps to assure that news of this supposed marriage will spread no further, but unless she denounces it, the rumors will foment and there will be no hope of killing them. While the princess might feel she has to stand by a judgment made in haste, since it was a commitment made, she must also acknowledge that haste is seldom conducive to reason. If she so desires, a judicious comment at this time would save the honor of Okrannel.”

Alyx kept her face impassive as she turned to face those in the room again. She positioned herself so that the glow of the window would backlight her and make her face more difficult to read. She had chosen not to attend in full armor, but instead opted for her Alcidese uniform, albeit without rank insignia. She wore a dagger at her right hip and had been allowed to retain it as a courtesy of her rank.

Vladoslav Svoinyk had a medium build and his soft face and dark hair made him appear far too youthful for a position of importance at the court of Oriosa. Still, the sharpness of his dark-eyed gaze, and the way he nodded gravely in response to the minister’s words, showed cautious deliberation before he spoke. Alyx had seen his like among warriors. Enemies misjudged him easily, and would pay a terrible price for their error.