Stephen Deas - The adamantine palace

I'm afraid of him. The realisation was horrifying, almost as bad as seeing Sollos die. If I fight him, he might actually win. I'm afraid of him. And he's not afraid of me.

Semian came slowly towards him. There could be no doubting his purpose now. He knew exactly where he was and exactly what he was doing.

'You and me, sell-sword. That's what you wanted.'

'He never drew his sword. He was trying to help you. You're filth. You and your kind.'

'It's clear.' Semian's eyes were wild. 'You were a part of this all along. Both of you. You made a fool of me, but I will redeem myself with this.' He waved his sword in the air. 'Now I have the vile stain of a traitor on my blade, I can barely bring myself to hold it in my hand. Quick now, man, before 1 can stand the stink no more. Let us be done. Kill me if you can, or add your blood to his.'

Kemir took a step away, keeping his distance. 'Killing you here and now, that would be too quick. I want to watch you die slowly.'

'Are you too great a coward to fight me, sell-sword?'

The rage surged again, but the fear kept it in check. 'One day there'll be a shadow in an alley, and I'll be in that shadow with my bow, waiting for you. You'll never know. You'll never see it coming.' Kemir scuttled away through the rushing water and the rocks, putting more distance between them. Semian would never catch him dressed in so much dragonscale, and he didn't try. The knight simply stood and watched him retreat.

'Coward.'

'You'll never know!' Kemir turned and ran. When he'd crossed the river and reached the trees, he looked back again. Semian was still standing there, stock still, out in the open. A perfect target. Kemir took his bow from his shoulder and started to string it. Seventy, eighty yards. A man in armour. If he's stupid enough to stay still, I'll probably hit him. I won't kill him. Then I can finish him slowly. Yes, that would be perfect.

He'd almost forgotten the dragons when there came another shriek, so loud and close that he flinched. A moment later the entire river exploded. Water and stones flew everywhere as two dragons crashed into the river bed, locked together, teeth and claws sunk into each other. One of them was the white. The other was dark brown with flashes of iridescent green on the insides of its legs. It had a rider on its back, but he quickly disappeared as the dragons thrashed and rolled in the water. Then the thrashing stopped and the dragons parted. The white dragon was limping. The darker beast got up, nosed at something in the water and roared. One of its wings was clearly broken, and it seemed to barely notice the white now.

It was still in the way, though. Kemir ran a few dozen yards through the trees, following the river, but Rider Semian had gone.

The Scales was still alive. Somehow. Stumbling blindly though the stones. The white dragon picked him up in one claw, turned and ran.

Kemir watched them go. Inside him something broke.

The Dragon-Queen

Hyram went out to watch Zafir's dragons fly in to the Adamantine Eyrie, but his mind was still on Jehal. After the debacle of the truth-smoke, he'd been left with three choices. The most appealing was simply to have Jehal killed while he had the chance, but that would have been war, and above all the point of the speaker was to make sure there was never another dragon-war. Keeping him in the dungeon had some appeal as well but wouldn't achieve anything. When Shezira succeeded him as speaker, she'd let him go however much she thought he was guilty. Better to set him free sooner rather than later and see what he did.

Except that hadn't worked either. Instead of flying south, where Hyram could have kept an eye on him, Jehal had flown west, to Drotan's Top. From there he'd gone north, supposedly to join Queen Shezira's interminable and futile hunt for her missing dragon. Shezira knew all of her riders far too well for Hyram to have a spy among them, and so now the Viper was at large. He'd show up sooner or later, but Hyram would have felt a lot more comfortable knowing what Jehal was up to. He wants to be speaker. He knows I'd die rather than betray Shezira for someone li\e him, so perhaps he's thinking of who comes next. Who will she name in her turn? Does he think that marrying Princess Lystra will make it him? She'll name Valgar surely? If he's still alive.

Queen Zafir's dragons landed one after the other. A twitch started in Hyram's cheek and wouldn't go away. Valgar's getting old. In ten years he'll be as old as I am now, and Jehal the perfect age. Maybe that's what he has in mind.

After everything he'd learned in the last few days, he wasn't sure how he should approach Queen Zafir. She'd told him that Aliphera and Jehal had been lovers and she'd been right. She'd told him that she didn't think Jehal had murdered her mother, and she might have been right about that too. He wasn't even sure he cared any more. Aliphera had soiled herself with the Viper, she of all people. She deserved to die. If her death was an accident, Hyram's only regret was that she hadn't pulled Jehal down with her. I should put her out of my mind. Even if Jehal didn't fell her, he's still murdering his own father. He could hang for that. Best that I forget her forever.

Except there she was, standing in front of him, exactly as he remembered her from twenty years ago, glorious, radiant, beautiful beyond compare. He felt a fool and ashamed of himself. Old and crippled. How could he stand before her?

'Your H-Holiness.' He bowed. It's not her. She's gone, remember. It's her daughter. But she looks so much like her. I'd never really seen it before, but she does.

Queen Zafir bowed and kissed his ring. 'Speaker. You flatter me.'

He looked at her. He couldn't stop looking at her. She was Aliphera at her best, her hair piled up on the top of her head to show off the curves of her neck, the same deep red riding clothes, the same carved amber dragon hanging at her throat, the same russet folds of furs to keep her warm against the wind. Everything about her glowed.

'Y-You're wearing your m-mother's furs.'

Zafir bowed her head. 'Since she died I've taken to always wearing something that was hers. To honour her memory. I hope you're not offended.'

'C-Come.' Hyram offered her his arm, which she took with a smile. 'I-I have to apologise to you, Queen Z-Zafir. I once 1-loved your mother very much. I should n-not have said what I did after you were crowned.'

She met his eyes with sadness. 'No, Speaker, you should not. Prince Jehal killed my mother. We both know that now.'

He looked away and bit his lip. 'I d-don't know. I-It may have been an a-accident.'

'I think he was on her dragon with her when she died.'

'I kn-know he was.'

For a moment Zafir tensed. 'You know?'

'Y-Yes. H-He told me. I was n-not very kingly while he w-was here, but I did learn a g-great deal.'

'Then I am keen to know more.' She was still tense. Idly, Hyram wondered why.

'I know that e-everything you told me was true. I kn-know I should have paid more heed to your 1-letters. I know I d-did you an injustice. P-Please forgive me. Tell me, how are the rest of your family?'

She seemed to relax. 'My sister still grieves. Uncle Kazalain has sworn an oath of vengeance. He stomps and shouts and drinks and bellows for war and has no idea who he should fight.' She gave him a thoughtful look. 'Mostly he vents his anger at Queen Shezira. He has this foolish notion that you might have defied the old pacts and chosen Aliphera to succeed you. He has his sons beside him, but that is all. As for the rest, the whole realm is shocked with sadness.' Then she smiled at him, and he couldn't help himself.

'Y-You are every bit as beautiful as your m-mother, Queen Zafir. I hope you know that.'

'You're too kind, Speaker. But tell me more about Jehal. I came here thinking you would ask me lots of questions, and how clever I would seem to know even some of the answers. But you already know far more than I do.'