Alex Bledsoe - Burn Me Deadly

A short walk later we went through the lobby of the Saraden’s Sword, the only inn ritzy enough for an envoy from Sevlow. Its small tavern was usually reserved for guests only, but a hanging was a special occasion, and the revelers would have simply broken in had they not been freely welcomed.

Slats Pickering, the inn’s owner, was halfheartedly trying to keep the drunks under control. He looked up, smiled and said, “Hey, Eddie, what are you-” But something in my face made him abruptly fall silent.

“What room is that guy from the capital in?” I demanded. I must’ve radiated bad humor, because the patrons gave me plenty of room.

“Seven. The suite. Top of the stairs to the right. He’s in there right now.”

“And that big guy with him?”

“Eight, right next door.”

“The rooms connect?”

“No.”

“Seen the big guy today?”

“No. He left this morning and hasn’t come back.”

I nodded curtly. Some days it was good to be intimidating. I slapped a coin on the counter. “Send someone to get Gary Bunson, and when he gets here send him up to that room.”

Pickering nodded. I pushed Lesperitt up the stairs to the indicated door. It was the only room in the place that had a separate sitting room and bedroom, the closest thing to classy accommodations to be found in Neceda. I put my ear to the wood and heard nothing over the noise from downstairs. I started to knock, but decided I’d been polite enough under the circumstances. I drew back and, despite the protest in my hip, kicked the door open.

Argoset, shirtless, looked up sharply from the basin where he was washing his hands. The sudden movement splashed water onto the girl seated in one of the padded chairs. She gasped, “Hey!” and covered her undergarments, all she currently wore, with her hands. Through the bedroom door behind them, the rumpled sheets confirmed what their state of undress implied.

“Is there a reason for this intrusion?” Argoset said, in a voice that could probably reduce cadets and stable pages to tears.

It was less successful on me. I slammed the door behind me and shoved Lesperitt toward one of the other chairs. “Sit down,” I said, and he obeyed. I stepped challengingly close to Argoset. “This guy told you my girlfriend disappeared. You did nothing about it, and you didn’t mention it to me when I saw you this morning. I’m going to find out why.”

I turned to the girl in the chair. I’d recognized her at once. “For a girl so worried about her cherry, you gave it up quick enough, didn’t you, Nicky? Or do you prefer ‘Your Highness’?”

Nicky’s mouth opened to protest, but she thought better of it. Instead she nodded and said calmly, “A worldly man like you would know there are many pleasures for men and women that don’t involve that, Eddie. How did you recognize me?”

“Your face is on some of the money.” And that really was true, but I’d been inclined that way by her delirious mutterings about her brother, Ricky. “Ricky and Nicky,” were common slang names for Frede rick and Vero nic a in Muscodian gossip, often used in rude rhymes about their supposed decadence. The clincher had been a fresh look at the official portrait in Gary’s office that morning. “Great way to keep an eye on your brother, too, for a girl not concerned with her modesty.”

Nicky stood, and her poise was definitely regal. She pulled a robe on over her undergarments. “I seem to have a hard time keeping my clothes on around you, Eddie.”

“I’ve heard that all my life.”

She did not smile. She no longer looked like a vulnerable teenager, but like a hard, professional politician. “The fate of Muscodia is far more important to me than to my idiot brother. I can’t keep him from behaving like the moron he is, but I can ensure that he does as little damage as possible until he either grows up or debauches himself to death.”

“And leaves you next in line for the throne.”

She cinched the belt tight. “I thank you for your kindness to me, Eddie, but this is a matter of state and you, as a private citizen and an immigrant, are not involved.”

“That’s the first wrong thing you’ve said, Princess.” I drew my sword; in the small sitting room it loomed very, very large. “I got involved when Marantz’s hatchet man dropped me, this guy’s daughter and the best horse in the world off a cliff. And I’m in it until someone either pays for that or drops me off a much higher cliff.”

Argoset made a move, probably innocuous, but I slapped his bare stomach with the flat of my sword anyway. “You’re not up to it, fancy pants, and I’ve got no compunctions about gutting you right here. I don’t like liars or king’s lackeys, and you’re both. So why didn’t you tell me that this little bozo sent Liz off into the woods?”

Argoset winced and clutched his stomach; the blow would leave a red mark, but nothing serious. He cast a look at Nicky, who said nothing. “It seems you’ve forced your way into this issue far enough to become a legitimate part of it,” he said to me, and tried to step closer. The point of my sword stopped him. He raised his hands in a gesture of capitulation and stepped back. “All right, fine. But please listen carefully. I’m going to pronounce a few words. They’re harmless words. Just a bunch of letters scrambled together. But their meaning is very important. Try to understand what they mean.” He spoke softly but with real urgency. “Glaurung. Scatha. Vermithrax. Solarian.”

“Lumina,” I finished.

“Lumina,” he said with a nod.

I almost laughed aloud. These were the names of famous storybook dragons everyone in the world knew from childhood. “So you believe this dragon-egg bullshit, too.”

“I believe in my country, Mr. LaCrosse. Muscodia has been the butt of jokes for too long. We have trade routes we don’t tax, borders that allow any riffraff to cross, and a king so self-involved he truly thinks he’d be mobbed by grateful citizens if he steps outside his castle.”

I looked at Nicky. “I don’t mind being called ‘riffraff,’ but are you going to let him talk about your father like that?”

“Yes, because he’s right. I love my father, and as a parent he’s the kindest, gentlest man you can imagine. But as a head of state he’s an utter failure. And Frederick is just like him, except for all the new vices he keeps inventing for himself.”

“And you’d be better?”

She had the dignity of royalty, and the certainty of untested youth. “I wouldn’t be perfect, no. But I would be better.”

Argoset actually made a fist and held it up to show how serious he was. “If they’re real, think about the power possessing those eggs would bestow on us. Not only could we prove the existence of gods, for those who need to believe in such things, but we’d also have the ultimate deterrent, a weapon so powerful that no one would dare attack us for fear of unleashing it.” He smacked his fist into his other palm for emphasis, which just made him look silly.

“And if they’re not real, which they aren’t?” I said.

He shrugged. “Then no harm has been done.”

I was cosmically tired of people shrugging things off. My blood began to simmer. “Except that this man’s daughter is dead because of it,” I said, nodding at Lesperitt. “And I was damn near killed. And Liz…” I choked on the words and couldn’t finish the sentence. My chest grew tight at the thought.

“None of that had anything to do with us,” Nicky said. “That was all Gordon Marantz’s doing.”

While my eyes were on Nicky, Argoset moved to his left, toward the hook where his sword hung along with his jacket. I poked him in the stomach again and he stopped moving. “So Muscodia gets a big stick to wave at the other backwater countries. And you get the princess, for bringing the dragon home instead of slaying it. Not a bad promotion for a career soldier.”