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Some claim Nahikal wants revenge. That’s not the case, but I can see why they think so. It’s not that he’s concerned with the past so much as he desires to right the ways that wrongs have made. I wish life was as simple as my arc lukesure sees it.
~ Khonayn, dragon king of Tharra, Eelarga
3556 AI
Cahar, Muintir
6126 AI
“SHH,” GOSHKEAH WHISPERED low. “We’ll handle this, Moregot. Don’t let them know you’re here.”
Shadows flickered in front of the door, but no one entered. The suspense began to wear on Hest. He wanted to call out to tell them to come in with weapons in plain sight, but he held his peace.
A woosh from Usheen startled Hest, and he spun around to see flames flickered along a wooden railing behind them.
“Cammaray, is that you?” a familiar voice called between coughs.
“Aye, help!”
Usheen pressed down and the last word came out as more of a yelp than a recognizable word.
“I would if you weren’t trying to smoke the place out!”
‘Tis Realtar Farr. Hest stepped over Usheen’s tail, but a Rittider grabbed his arm.
“Nay, Moregot, ‘tis not safe.”
Let him come, Usheen. Hest called across the way, “Realtar Farr, show yourself, but keep your hands where we can plainly see any weapons you carry. If the others at the front are your men, tell them to do the same.”
“Moregot, is that you?”
“Aye, along with my arc lukesure. Cammaray is our prisoner.”
Even across the distance, Hest could hear the small noise of intimidation that escaped Realtar Farr’s throat.
“Well, then, if ‘tis all the same to you, we’ll come in. Egan,” he raised his voice, “come on in with your weapons in sight. The king’s already at liberty.”
“Goshkeah, ‘tis true?”
At Kyeth’s voice, Hest closed his eyes and breathed deeply. All was well.
“Aye. Come take this villain off our hands,” Goshkeah called back.
“Moregot?” Tarhall regarded Hest warily. “Are you well?”
“Aye.”
“But...”
Hest cocked his head in question, too exhausted to inquire more clearly. Why was he suddenly struggling to stay upright?
“What he’s concerned about is your talons and eyes, Moregot.” Goshkeah glanced over, before heading to meet Kyeth. “Glad to see you, Kenara.”
“Looks like a storm went through here.” Kyeth surveyed the building
“An arc lukesure’s as much a force of nature as one, for certain. Never seen the like of it.”
Hest listened with one ear to the conversation between the two Rittider, but it was like a buzzing obscured the meaning. What had Goshkeah meant about talons and eyes? He rubbed the smooth ivory edge of one claw against his thumb and sank against Usheen’s side.
Heart of my hearts, you must either rest in the laubrach or release it. It is wearing you threadbare to hold onto both sides.
Aye. He closed his eyes and sank down to the floor, letting his mind be soothed into silence by the rhythmic thud of Usheen’s hearts.
“Moregot?” Someone shook him. “Moregot, wake up. Let me dress that wound.”
Hest rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and Kyeth backed away.
“Be careful with those, Moregot. I’ve seen what they can do.”
What was Kyeth talking about? Hest followed the Rittider’s gaze and saw dark talons protruding from his fingers. Ah, the laubrach. He sighed, not wanting to experience the cold that would invade his body when he released it.
Shouts behind him caught his attention, but he didn’t have the energy to focus.
Go, heart of my hearts. Usheen nudged his shoulder.
Kyeth glanced up and swallowed. Hest gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile, and released his hold with a shudder. The room darkened for a moment then shifted color. Beneath the pad of his thumb, the smooth cool sensation of the talon changed, and it was only the tip of his fingernail that ran along the skin. He sighed and rubbed his arms, trying to bring warmth back to his bones. At least with Usheen at his back, he still had a source of heat. He must not have slept more than a few minutes, because there was steam rising from the charred railing where someone had doused it, and Realtar Farr was still looking around like he wasn’t sure whether to be terrified or impressed by Usheen’s wake of destruction. Cammaray had stopped struggling but was shooting vicious glances and words at anyone who walked past him.
“What should we do with Cammaray, Moregot?” Kyeth looked to Usheen for permission, then sat down next to Hest. “That is, after your arc lukesure lets him up.”
Hest chuckled. “Aye, probably ‘tis best he remain in Usheen’s custody until we can take him to the dungeon.” He rubbed at the cut on his throat.
“It doesn’t look too bad; how did that happen?”
“Nay, you’re right; it stung more than anything. One of Cammaray’s men slipped with his blade bringing us here. Usheen wasn’t pleased,” he chuckled.
Kyeth nodded as if things suddenly made sense, then a commotion at the destroyed front door made them both look up. The Rittider snapped to attention when Sydur stalked in.
“Oh, good,” Kyeth said with relief. “He’ll know what to do with the fiahat.”
“Aye, and probably me.”
“Moregot?” Kyeth frowned.
“Never mind. He doesn’t appreciate it when I slide into the laubrach like I did.”
“Looks to me as if you had no choice. It saved your life.”
“I doubt the jiddee’adar will see it that way when he hears about it.”
“Boiwith,” Sydur crouched down, disregarding Kyeth entirely. “Are you well?”
“Aye, thanks to Usheen.”
Sydur looked up as if he hadn’t noticed the arc lukesure’s presence until that moment.
“And if you look beneath his left front foot you’ll find the man claiming to be the fiahat leader.” Hest’s jovial tone faded out as he added, “I’d bet he’s responsible for the attack on Devin’s family.”
“Well, at least you accomplished what you came to do.” Sydur shook his head. “You never cease to amaze me, boiwith, never.”
Hest stood, rubbing his arms as a breeze chilled his back. “Sometimes I surprise myself.”
Sydur chuckled, then sobered. “But you came with my best men and still fell prey to the fiahat.”
Usheen turned an eye on the cannonsea. What has happened has happened. I was near, and even if I wasn’t, I would have come. ‘Tis not their fault. Tend him, cannonsea; don’t second guess their valor.
Kyeth swallowed back a smile. “I’m glad that wasn’t directed at me!” he whispered.
“Aye.” Hest rested a hand on Usheen’s back. “We should let my bratnoor talk to Cammaray. Let him see what he thinks.”
Usheen’s prisoner held the talons pinning him to the ground like a prisoner behind bars. He spat when Hest rounded Usheen’s shoulder. “Well, come to gloat, king?”
“Nay, to give you your just rightful recompense.”
The man laughed. “You talk about justice, but you have no clue about what life is like in Cahar. You pass down rules and regulations from your cushioned throne, while we starve and scrape by from step to step, never knowing when we’ll eat again.”
“So, you rise up, spurn the homes and jobs I provided and take from those around you?” All humor had left Hest, and the chill in his bones reached his voice. “I know more than you think.”
“Or so you claim, but have you lived among us? Have you seen firsthand the way we struggle to survive?”
“I’ve watched as a little girl died. A girl whose only crime was holding onto the food that was hers.”
“A single girl? That’s your means to know our suffering? I’ve never had a home, never had a full belly, until I took it. Synods upon synods I’ve watched our people be kicked and cursed and driven to what we do, and you think because you saw one death you know us?” He tried to spit again, but Usheen pressed down, and it turned into a cough instead.
“Cannonsea, Realtar Farr, I believe this is the one you both have been after.”
Realtar Farr stepped forward, keeping a cautious eye on Usheen. “He won’t try to set me on fire again, will he?”
“Nay.” Hest smiled. “He didn’t know you were a friend.”
“I see. Well, I do prefer the title of ‘friend’ over ‘fried food’.”
My apologies, leader of the fanka. ‘Twill not happen again.
“Thank you, I appreciate that.” Realtar Farr swallowed and made a very deliberate choice to stop watching the arc lukesure, instead turning to the dragon’s captive. “Cammaray, you do know the consequences I set forth when we moved, do you not?”
“What? The paltry ‘obey or move’ order, the one you had no authority to give? I chose to move. Better to have my own say in a place of my choosing. You can kiss the boots of your little king and take his scraps like a good little hound; I’ll stand up for our people. We have always found a way to live, and you tried to take even that from us!”
“There was more to it than that, and you know it. Besides not being able to stay, you were subject to banishment if you brought disgrace upon the fanka.”
“Disgrace? Bah! The fiahat are the best of what were once the fanka! What disgrace was there to your people, except that the strongest left you to join me?”
“Accosting nobles in the streets; making even our own people afraid to go through the Tradstoras Neighborhood, are these not bringing disgrace?”
“They’re what is our right, and you know it.”
Enough! Usheen’s overpowering voice resounded in Hest’s mind, and apparently in the others as well, for they clamped their hands futilely over their ears. This man is not worthy of life. He attacked his own king, even after being given second chances. If banishment was his punishment, then he must be banished from the kingdom to the outer reaches.
Kyeth gasped, but Sydur nodded.
“’Tis just. The outer reaches will burn some sense into your head.”
“What’s the outer reaches?” Hest asked.
“Aeguskey.” Kyeth wiped his face. “Not just where Graen shines all day, but where it truly burns all in its path.”
Hest shifted from one foot to the other. “How will we know he goes?”
“A small contingent of our soldiers will accompany him.”
Usheen shook his head. Nay, I will take him.
“But ‘tisn’t it said that only the dragon king can ride an arc lukesure?” Sydur pondered.
There is more than one way to convey him—he’ll be carried in my claws.
Sydur glanced between Usheen, Hest, and Cammaray as if deciding which option was worse. “Fine. If he falls, he plummets to his death, and good riddance. When will he leave?”
As soon as you say, provided my marcah agrees.
“Then take him away,” Hest ordered. He scowled down at Cammaray. “You should be killed for your crimes against the crown, but I will heed Realtar Farr’s judgment. For rabble rousing and harboring and abetting theft and rape, you are sentenced to spend the remainder of your life in Aeguskey, and no help or shelter will be provided to you. If you ever return to Muintir, you will forfeit your life. Is that understood?”
The man’s face paled, but he set his jaw even as he nodded, his words bitten off like stale bread. “You’re making a mistake, little king. You think you’ve won, but you’ll regret crossing my path. It won’t be this step or even this synod, but when you least expect it, you’ll find a knife in your back and all you love taken from you.”
Hest stilled the shudder that wanted to wrack his body. Those words were too close to his dream. There was no way Cammaray could have known, yet the way his eyes narrowed, and the smile that crept along his face said otherwise.
“Watch your back, king.”
Usheen wrapped Cammaray in his claw, closing until the man squirmed and yelped in protest. If only the power of the man’s words could be dealt with as readily as the man himself.
All you love taken from you.
An image of Siobhan impaled on his sword flashed before Hest’s eyes.
All you love taken from you.
Usheen dead with his scales peeled off, lying in a plain where Graen withered what remained.
All you love taken from you.
Nwa taking something from Siobhan’s dead arms and handing it to Cammaray who grinned. All you love; king no more.
“Moregot? Is all well?”
“Nay, Kyeth, not when men will take without regard for others and kill without regret. Not when I must constantly watch to make sure those I love are safe. Never will it be well.”
