Michael Stackpole - When Dragons Rage

“No, no, it’s fine.” His eyes flicked up. “I gave up. They had me, and I realized I was tired. Tired of all of it.”

“But, Crow, you were tired. Your leg was broken and you didn’t let Kerrigan heal it and we had been riding hard for days, of course you were tired. And then they beat you and left you naked and cold down there in that root cellar and…”

“Shhhhhh, Princess, please.” Crow sighed. “All you say is true, but none of it mitigates the fact that I wanted to quit. And I would have given up, save for one thing.”

He slid the ring off his finger and tossed it between her knees. “This. The elaborate measures you went to in getting it on my finger. You could have just broken me out of Tolsin. We could have been on the run, but you chose another route.”

“You were the one who pointed out that running would have been difficult.”

“Yes, but your action reminded me that this war with Chytrine is more than just a personal thing. Princess Sayce is right—time was wasted here, but good things did happen. There isn’t a war between Oriosa and Alcida. You’re not an outlaw, which might cause some countries to reconsider their support of the Okrannel campaign. This was the right way to do things, though what happened is hardly what we anticipated.”

Alexia picked the ring up and flicked it back and forth against her thumb and index finger. “It was something you would have seen, given time, a lack of beatings, and rest.”

“Perhaps.” He smiled. “But now I don’t feel tired anymore. I am ready to ride north, to deal with Chytrine and her people. You gave me the chance to catch my breath, and for that, I can’t repay you.”

“Sure you can.” She tossed him the ring. “Keep wearing this.”

“Princess, this charade…” His voice shrank painfully.

“Crow, listen to me. We are friends. I wish for you to have that ring.” She listened to herself and found that what she was saying didn’t come easily. The words were describing the truth, or at least a portion of it. A fragment of it .

“I dare not, Princess.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “Why not?”

“This ring, the way Kerrigan made it has all the same links as it would if we were married. If I fall…”

“I would know?”

“Probably not.”

She felt a tightness in her stomach. / would know .

“If I fall, and war is a younger man’s game, someone could take this ring and use the magick to trace it back to you. They could find you and attack you because I had failed.”

A coldness pooled in her belly, then bled into her voice. “And the reverse would be true?”

“Yes, they could find me using your ring.” Crow gave her a smile. “The chances of you falling, however, are remote.”

“You mistake my question, Crow.” Alexia shook her head. “If you fall, my ring would still be linked to yours. With magick, I could find the one who took it from you. I could hunt them.”

He looked at her for a moment, then nodded and swallowed. His voice still came hoarse. “Yes. And I would do the same.”

She stretched out, leaning forward on one hand, so she could close her other over both his hand and the ring. “Then keep it. Wear it. This is what I want.”

“Yes.”

Alexia raised her face to his and brushed her lips over his. That brief caress, barely felt, sent a thrill through her. It wasn’t until that moment that she knew she’d intended to kiss him, and wanted to do so again.

Crow pulled back, his lips parted, his right hand coming up to caress her left cheek. “Highness…”

“Shhhhh, no talking.” She rubbed her cheek against his palm, then turned her head and kissed it. Her violet eyes looked up. “Tonight I want, I need , to be held by you. I need your strength, your warmth. I need you .”

“Princess…”

“I said ‘no talking.’” She smiled and kissed him again, properly this time. “The consort of an Okrans Princess would never think of contradicting her.”

Crow wordlessly caressed her left cheek, then sank his fingers into her hair and pulled her mouth to his for a deeper kiss. Their tongues tangled, caressed, and explored.

Alexia broke the kiss reluctantly, but continued to smile as she pulled back to look up into his eyes. “Now, my consort, join me in my bed. Many nights I have been denied the comforts of my husband’s arms and I desire greatly to make up for that lost time.”

King Scrainwood sat on his throne, watching Cabot Marsham lead Lady Norrington and her insipid son away to their chambers. Good-hearted, nice, loyal . Scrainwood found Kenleigh only slightly more tolerable than the sycophantic Marsham, but Marsham was so much more useful.

Scrainwood would house the visitors from Valsina for several days while he considered whether or not he would actually grant them the lands he’d given to the whoreget thief. The legalities of the whole thing mattered not to him. There were legalities and regalities, and he’d always found the latter took precedence.

“You might as well grant them the lands, Highness.” Tatyana stepped from Linchmere’s shadow. “The boy will be grateful, and his mother might well warm your bed tonight.”

“If you read my thoughts so easily, you truly are the witch they say you are.” Scrainwood snorted and looked at his son. “You may leave us. None of this will interest you.”

Tatyana grabbed hold of Linchmere’s sleeve as he started to retreat. “Highness, he should hear. There will come a day when he needs to know what passes between us.”

The King of Oriosa looked over at his second son. The man’s bovine brown eyes displayed little comprehension. He recalled when his boy had been keen and bright-eyed, eager to learn—a happy, laughing child. Then his mother drowned and life drained from him . “Very well, Linchmere. Stay. Learn. Say nothing, now or ever.”

His son, silently and unceremoniously, plunked himself down on the floor and picked at the lacings on his shoes.

Tatyana moved forward, momentarily eclipsing the prince, then stepped onto the carpet and turned to face the king. “I have, of course, no more love for what has transpired here than you. The subversion of justice that resulted in Crow’s release is only made palatable by the fact that the treason charges can later be reinstated and he can be detained at any time. That was very clever.”

Scrainwood bowed his head. “I am not without resources when it comes to dealing with legalities, Grand Duchess.”

“I see that, Highness.” Her cold eyes glittered. “I would suppose that your use of this stratagem was in response to pressure placed upon you? Augustus threatened invasion? A regency for your son?”

The king shivered with recollection of the confrontation. “I won certain other concessions.”

“Yes?”

“Indeed.”

She looked at him intently, as if her blue eyes could compel him to tell her of the fragment of the DragonCrown now housed in the vaults of his palace.

He snorted. “No, Grand Duchess, nothing that should concern you, nor will it. Suffice it to say, Alcidese troops will not bespoil my lands. If Augustus’ troops are to head north, they will do so by ship or a long march through Saporicia.”

Tatyana laughed, then turned to look at Linchmere. “Learn from your father, for he is a master at playing both ends against the middle. Chytrine leaves him his nation because he has harbored her troops and allowed them some passage south. Augustus does not attack because of the fearful toll you Oriosans would take on his people. Were either to overstep the bounds of his agreements with them, he would turn to the other for succor. Well played, this game will retain his realm for him, and for you or your children.”