Khadar ignored him. “Of course, you dragons have been isolated from the world for so long, it’s no wonder your religious beliefs are so confused. We believed you were all destroyed, leaving Katayan alone with no worshippers, but perhaps he was more lost than we imagined.”
“Khadar,” Rokshan said, sounding angrier than before.
Lamprophyre blew out an involuntary puff of smoke. “Your Holiness,” she said as calmly as she could manage, “I’m fascinated by the differences in our religions. But surely you can see that human worship would have to be different from dragon worship? We live in the shadow of Mother Stone, who guides and protects us, and when we die we return to her. I assure you, dragons have never heard of Katayan—that’s not even a dragon name.”
“You see?” Khadar exclaimed, spreading his arms and almost shouting the words. “Your ignorance is truly touching—”
“Ignorance?” Lamprophyre growled.
“Khadar, shut up and leave now,” Rokshan said, “before you anger the ambassador.”
“Threats will not stop me from preaching the truth,” Khadar said, and now he really was shouting. “I will not allow false doctrine to pollute the minds and hearts of honest Gonjirians!”
“I am not preaching false doctrine, you imbecile,” Lamprophyre shouted, “and if you can’t see that our two faiths don’t have to be at odds, I don’t think much of you as an ecclesiast!”
Gasps rose up from behind her, and murmured conversations began. Khadar looked surprisingly pleased, and Lamprophyre had a sinking feeling she’d put herself into his hands. “Exactly the response I would expect from an apostate,” he said, “but I do not hold your attitude against you. I intend—”
Rokshan grabbed Khadar’s shoulder. “Get out. Now.”
“Get your hands off me.” Khadar tried to wrench away, but Rokshan held him fast.
The noise behind Lamprophyre had grown, filling the air with words spoken and unspoken. Lamprophyre blocked out the thoughts, but the noise lessened only slightly. “You’re not entitled to be rude to me no matter what you believe about religion,” she shouted, “and Rokshan’s right, you need to leave.”
“I will not abandon my religious duty,” Khadar said.
The noise had grown deafening. Lamprophyre opened her mouth to shout at Khadar again, then saw Rokshan’s expression. He no longer looked angry; he looked confused. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
Rokshan shook his head and let go of Khadar. “Those are soldiers,” he said, stepping toward Lamprophyre. “Why soldiers?”
Lamprophyre turned. From where she stood, she had a clear view of the training ground, where the noise came from. Soldiers filled it completely, more soldiers than she’d ever seen in one place. They were converging on the canopies. They weren’t moving very fast, and Lamprophyre immediately saw why: marching beside General Sajan at the head of the company was Tekentriya, lurching along as fast as she could, which wasn’t very.
She watched curiously as the soldiers approached within a dragonlength of the canopies and stopped. They hadn’t drawn their swords, but they looked close to doing so. General Sajan and Tekentriya came forward together. The general’s expression was concealed by his beard. Tekentriya’s expression was impossible for Lamprophyre to understand. She risked listening for their thoughts, but the rest of the people were such a muddled buzz she had to stop or be overwhelmed.
Tekentriya stopped near Lamprophyre and stood in that awkward, leg-thrust-out position, but showed no sign of discomfort. “My lady ambassador,” she said, “you stand accused of murder.”
Chapter Thirty-One
“Murder?” Lamprophyre exclaimed.
“Tekentriya, what are you talking about?” Rokshan said. “That’s impossible.”
Tekentriya kept her gaze fixed on Lamprophyre. “This afternoon, a village ten miles north of Tanajital was burned to the ground. No survivors. Witnesses report—”
“If there were no survivors, how are there witnesses?” Rokshan demanded.
Tekentriya flicked a sharp glance his way. “Travelers came upon the village after the incident. They say every building in the village was utterly destroyed, and the streets were covered with bodies reduced to ash and splintered bone. What they described resembles no earthly fire. My lady ambassador, where were you this afternoon?”
Stunned, Lamprophyre said, “I was with Rokshan—we flew to Kolmira.”
“And you returned when?”
“I don’t know human time measurements. The sun was still high in the western sky. Early afternoon.”
“Where were you after that?”
“In the embassy.” Lamprophyre shook her head. “No, I also went swimming. You can’t possibly believe I’d do such a horrible thing!”
“Did anyone see you this afternoon? During your swim?”
Lamprophyre’s heart sank. “No. I flew far downstream so I wouldn’t disturb anyone.”
“Tekentriya, this is insane. Lamprophyre would never hurt anyone.” Rokshan stepped forward and put himself between Lamprophyre and his sister. “Why couldn’t magic be involved? A magical fire—”
“Rokshan, this is none of your business.”
“Of course it’s my business. I’m the ambassador’s liaison, and I’m also her friend. My word should count for something, even with you.”
Tekentriya glared at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Rokshan stood his ground. “I know you don’t think much of me, but you don’t believe I’d be complicit in covering up Lamprophyre’s involvement in this disaster if she were responsible? I’m willing to stake my own reputation on her being innocent.”
Tekentriya’s dark, unexpectedly delicate eyebrows rose. “An entire village is dead,” she said. “Several hundred people, including children. Your reputation is irrelevant compared to the fact that we have a dangerous creature in our midst and no guarantee she won’t do this again.”
“But I didn’t!” Lamprophyre said. “Why would I? I’ve lived among you for a couple of twelvedays and I’ve never done anything to hurt anyone. I don’t even know what village you’re talking about—I’ve been out of Tanajital exactly four times, and I certainly have no reason to want to destroy an entire human settlement!”
“No?” Tekentriya said. “Then you deny being upset by the handbills that circulated a few weeks ago, spreading rumors about dragons?”
“No—I mean, yes, of course I was upset, but that’s irrelevant.”
“It’s relevant because the handbills were produced in that village.” Tekentriya took a lurching step forward, pushing Rokshan to one side. “You decided to take your revenge in a rather dramatic way, didn’t you?”
“But I didn’t know that!”
“And she wouldn’t have burned the village if she had,” Rokshan said. “Tekentriya, see sense. Lamprophyre isn’t the only one who can create that kind of fire.”
“Stay out of this, Rokshan,” Tekentriya said. “My lady ambassador, General Sajan is here to take you into custody. We can’t have you free to escape justice or burn another village. Will you go quietly? Because I warn you, refusing to go or fighting our soldiers will suggest your guilt.”
“You’d risk war with the dragons by forcibly confining an ambassador?” Rokshan exclaimed. “You’re out of your mind.”
“Which is why I’m asking the ambassador to go with General Sajan voluntarily,” Tekentriya said, not taking her eyes of Lamprophyre. “As a courtesy to Gonjiri and as a gesture of good faith.”
“Lamprophyre,” Rokshan said in a low, intense voice, “you don’t have to do this. They have no proof.”
Lamprophyre looked from Rokshan to Tekentriya and then to General Sajan. “You have no way to confine me,” she said.
“That had better not be a threat,” Tekentriya said. Lamprophyre risked listening to her thoughts, and over the confusing background hum of the assembled humans, Tekentriya’s thoughts were a tangle of fear and determination. Despite her dislike of the woman, La
mprophyre respected her courage.
“It’s not,” she said. “It’s just—you ought to see that if I were really dangerous, I wouldn’t care about proving my innocence. I’d just burn you all where you stood.”
“Lamprophyre,” Rokshan muttered, “you’re not helping.”
“I haven’t killed anyone, and I didn’t burn that village,” Lamprophyre declared in a loud voice. “And I say you need more proof than the fact that I’m capable of doing so. You don’t take General Sajan into custody every time someone in Tanajital is killed with a sword, do you? And yet I’d wager he’s capable of that act. I’m innocent, and I’m not going to act like I’m guilty just to calm your fears of me.” Anger fueled by days of hearing humans’ fear and suspicion boiled up inside her.
“You’re the only one who benefited from destroying that village,” Tekentriya said. “That and the manner of its destruction is proof enough for me.”
“How did she benefit—” Rokshan stopped. “Wait,” he said. “What village?”
“That’s irrelevant,” Tekentriya said.
“Bindusk,” General Sajan said at the same time. Tekentriya glared at him.
“Bindusk has—had—maybe seven hundred people,” Rokshan said. “It was barely a dot on a map. There’s no way they had a printing press to produce those handbills. And how did you know that’s where they came from?”
“My people investigated the handbills in case their writer decided to move beyond simple calumny to inciting riot,” Tekentriya said. “They traced their origin to Bindusk.” Uncertainty crept over her fear and determination.
“How sure are you that someone didn’t try to deceive you?” Rokshan asked.
“Don’t you dare suggest my people are incompetent,” Tekentriya said, taking a couple of awkward steps forward to put herself within striking distance of Rokshan. “The trail was clear.”
“And you were keeping an eye on Bindusk after that, weren’t you?” Rokshan wasn’t at all intimidated by Tekentriya’s threat. “If anything else came out of that town, you were ready to identify the culprit. Except somebody burned it to the ground, making it impossible for you to find the author of those handbills. And impossible to discover that there never was a printing press in Bindusk.” Rokshan turned to Lamprophyre, his eyes wide. “What do you think, Lamprophyre?”
She listened. Rokshan was thinking this is the work of our enemy Harshod, can’t tell her because she’ll want to know why we care, up to you now if we reveal our intention.
She almost spoke up then. Revealing the existence of a group plotting against Gonjiri and the dragons—that was something Tekentriya should know. Except Tekentriya was definitely intent on proving Lamprophyre guilty of a terrible crime, and while she wasn’t conveniently thinking about what she would do to Lamprophyre as a result, Lamprophyre was certain she had something in mind. What if Tekentriya was involved in the plot? She had the resources to burn a village, she hated and feared Lamprophyre, and she was heir to the throne. Maybe she wanted the kingdom sooner than nature and her father’s eventual death would provide.
“I think an adept could find traces of a printing press, if there was one,” she said, wishing Rokshan were a dragon to hear her own thoughts in response. “I don’t know what presses are made of, but your adepts are clever.”
“They’re made of wood and metal. A lot of metal,” Rokshan said. “Can dragon fire make metal disappear?”
“No. It would liquefy the metal, but the metal would all still be there.”
“Have someone search the ruins, then,” Rokshan said. “It’s unlikely there was more than one thing in Bindusk made of that much metal. If the printing press wasn’t there, then someone laid a false trail.”
“You don’t tell me what to do, boy,” Tekentriya snarled. “But I intend to discover the truth. I still want this monster confined. Ambassador or not.”
“She’s not a monster, and you had better give her the respect you would any other ambassador—most of whom are listening to this and having second thoughts about their relationship with Gonjiri,” Rokshan said. “And I told you I’ll stake my reputation on her innocence. I’ll take responsibility for any destruction she causes.”
“Don’t be a fool. It doesn’t work like that.”
“Rokshan, you can’t,” Lamprophyre said.
He cast a glance back at her, then returned his attention to Tekentriya. “Lamprophyre isn’t dangerous,” he said, “and I think you’re a fool for fearing her. I’m so certain she won’t hurt anyone I’m willing to take her punishment if she does.”
“Rokshan!” Lamprophyre exclaimed.
He looked back at her again. “Why are you worried? You won’t commit any crimes, so I won’t suffer any punishments.”
“Yes, but—”
“You’re willing to sacrifice your life for this creature? Which of us is the fool?” Tekentriya snarled. “Very well. But don’t leave Tanajital. I want her where my people can watch her.”
“All right.” Rokshan turned to General Sajan. “Tell your men to stand down,” he said. “You’re frightening our guests.”
Lamprophyre could hear the thoughts of everyone in attendance, and while she couldn’t make out more individual thoughts than those of the few humans nearest her, none of the others sounded frightened. They actually sounded excited. Well, the prospect of witnessing an ambassador being taken into custody, giving them a thrilling story to tell their friends, was exciting. Khadar was the only sour note, and he sounded frustrated: beast should suffer for her apostacy, foolish beliefs going to contaminate all of Tanajital. Well, Tekentriya had stolen his audience and his moment.
General Sajan’s expression was hidden by his facial hair, but Lamprophyre heard him think Rokshan’s gained confidence, good for him standing up to that harridan Tekentriya. “Don’t think this is resolved,” he said, but it sounded like a warning rather than a threat. He gestured, and the soldiers flanking him shouted orders that made every soldier in the formation turn on his heel. A few of them felt nervous of turning their back on Lamprophyre, but it was a distant feeling, and Lamprophyre didn’t worry about it. General Sajan saluted Rokshan, turned, and with the rest of the soldiers marched back the way they’d come.
This left Tekentriya alone facing Rokshan and Lamprophyre. Again, determination and anger overlaid her fear. “She makes one wrong move,” she said, “and I will bring every weapon I possess against you both.”
“Find the truth,” Lamprophyre said.
Tekentriya glared at her. Then she turned and lurched off toward the palace, avoiding the area with the canopies and Lamprophyre’s guests. Lamprophyre let out twin bursts of relieved smoke before thinking they might make people nervous.
“Now what?” she asked Rokshan, pitching her voice low to keep the others from hearing.
“We have to find Harshod,” Rokshan said in similarly low tones. “Why didn’t you tell Tekentriya about him?”
“Because it occurred to me that a plot by disaffected Gonjirians might have the heir to the throne at its head.”
“Oh. Good point.” Rokshan rubbed his face and pinched the bridge of his nose, squinching up his eyes into narrow slits. “We’ll have to discuss it tomorrow. Tonight, we still have guests.”
“I’m not sure I can endure making polite and meaningless conversation after that.”
Rokshan gripped her forearm briefly. “Think of it like this. Khadar is going to have trouble regaining momentum after that interruption. If you avoid him for the rest of the evening, it will be a peaceful night.”
“That’s true,” Lamprophyre said with pleasure.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Lamprophyre woke late the following morning. She hadn’t realized how hard it would be to get some of her guests to leave. From comments she overheard both audibly and mentally, she learned the wine was particularly good and there was plenty of it. Something to remember to change if she had to do this again.
She stretched every muscle, from her le
gs to her wings. Stretching felt good. So did inhaling the aroma of freshly-cooked pig, something new Depik had offered her a few days ago. It wasn’t quite as delicious as cow, but it was still better than horse. She couldn’t believe she’d ever settled for horse. Rokshan had warned her not to tell humans about that part of her diet, saying that many upper-class Gonjirians owned horses for riding and they could be sensitive about the possibility someone might eat their beloved animals. That struck Lamprophyre as odd, but what could you expect from people who allowed animals to live inside their caves?
Rokshan arrived just as she was finishing off her pig. “Your generosity gained you a remarkable benefit,” he said, settling on the floor beside her. “Depik is as good a cook as anyone in the palace kitchens.”
“I like to think generosity is its own reward, but I won’t refuse other benefits,” Lamprophyre said. She covered her mouth and burped. That was another human custom, pretending they weren’t passing gas in any way. Dragons never did that. Lamprophyre didn’t like holding in a burp, because that meant she could taste it, and pig or cow or chicken mingled with her stomachs’ contents tasted nasty. But she tried to show politeness by human standards.
“So. Exciting night,” Rokshan said. “Our friend Harshod seems to have gotten ahead of us.”
“It worries me that he knew to attack that village when I was off where no one could see me,” Lamprophyre said. “How could he possibly know we’re on his trail? He wasn’t in Kolmira to find out—do you think he did go back before you sent soldiers?”
“I think this is just the next step in his plan. Except it doesn’t fit with everything else he’s done.” Rokshan did his contemplative monkey pose. “Burning a village is likely to make Gonjiri angry with dragons, not the other way around.”
“You don’t suppose he’s trying a new strategy? Given that we’ve countered all the other attacks he’s made?” How Rokshan could sit like that, Lamprophyre couldn’t understand. Just thinking about crossing her legs made her hips hurt.
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