Light My Fire

by G. A. Aiken

  “Or,” Gaius quickly suggested, “you can give your prize buffalo to someone in the kitchens.”

  “What is kitchens?”

  Gaius briefly closed his eye before focusing on a young child running by. “Squire? You there.” The child ran to Gaius. “Take Lady Kachka to the kitchens so she can give her buffalo to the head cook.”

  “Of course, sir. This way, m’lady.”

  “I am not a lady. I am—”

  “The boy doesn’t care. Just go.”

  Kachka looked Gaius Domitus over before shaking her head. “Such a waste.”

  “Thank you,” he said good-naturedly. “I think you’re adorable, too.”

  Elina stepped between the pair before Kachka could attempt to remove the dragon’s spleen for such an insult. “Sister. We are guests. Do not forget.”

  “No,” she snarled. “I will forget nothing.”

  “You must not pick on her,” Elina warned as they watched Kachka drag her still-bleeding offering up the stone steps of the castle and into the Great Hall. “She is not like me. She has . . . short temper.”

  “I’ll make sure to keep that in mind,” Gaius Domitus said, still smiling. “Now, would you like to get back to work?”

  Celyn looked up from the discussion he was having with his father to see Kachka being led into the hall by one of the squires. Behind her, she dragged an enormous buffalo. He wondered if Kachka had anything to do with the Keita flounce that had happened just a few minutes before. Keita had been in high dudgeon, and no one had bothered her as she’d flounced her way up the stairs.

  Staring at the trail of blood that Kachka’s buffalo left behind, he heard his father say, “You have no idea how proud I am of you, son.”

  Startled, Celyn immediately forgot about the blood and focused on his father. “Proud? She came back missing an eye.”

  “She came back. From what I know of the Riders, that is a remarkable feat. But it’s not only that; I’m also impressed with how you handled the Costentyn tragedy and the information you provided about Brigida. And, gods, Costentyn’s journals. I can’t thank you enough for grabbing those.”

  “I’m glad the journals were helpful, but we still don’t know where Brigida is.”

  “Let’s not dwell on that right now since I’m sure whatever she’s doing would disturb us both greatly.” Bram placed his hand on Celyn’s forearm. “But what I am saying is that you did a very impressive job.”

  “Really?”

  “If it had been any of your other brothers and sisters or your uncle Bercelak, they would have started a war. If it had been your mother, she would have wiped the Riders from the Steppes and left that area open to Priestess Abertha and the zealots of Annaig Valley. I know now that sending you, Celyn, was the best decision that could have been made.”

  “So you don’t think I ask too many questions?”

  “Of course you ask too many questions. You can’t help yourself. It’s in your blood.”

  “It is?”

  “You take after your grandfather. Ailean constantly asked questions. As if he were shooting one arrow after another. However, unlike him, you actually expect a response. And wait for one. That’s how you make that talent your own.”

  Brannie came in from the back and sat on the table, her legs immediately beginning to kick Celyn’s chair. Something he’d always found annoying.

  “Looks like we won’t have to deal with Annwyl again if she tries to go off and kill Elina’s mum.”

  “Why not?”

  “Éibhear’s Mì-runach friends are here. Their whole purpose is to run headlong into inevitable death. They can handle Annwyl.”

  “You do remember that Éibhear is your cousin?” Bram asked.

  Brannie grabbed a piece of fruit from a bowl on the table, took a bite, shrugged.

  “Gods, this family,” Bram sighed.

  Kachka walked toward the Great Hall doors, this time without her buffalo. She was covered in blood.

  “Oy,” Celyn called out to her. “Do you need a bath? One of the servants can get that for you.”

  Kachka stopped, stared at Celyn, her mouth slightly open. “Lakes and streams all around this property and you make your workers fetch water so you can clean yourselves?”

  Celyn and his sister said together, “Yes.”

  Kachka turned toward the servants busy cleaning up the blood she’d left on the floor. “You do not deserve this treatment,” she told them. “Fight your oppressors! Stand up for yourselves!” When the servants only stared at her, Kachka’s lip curled in disgust. “Sheep!” she accused. “All of you are sheep!”

  “Mmmm,” Brannie sighed. “Sheep. I am a bit hungry.”

  “You’ll ruin your dinner,” their father warned. “And we’re having that feast tonight.”

  Princess Agrippina entered the Great Hall, and Bram stood and immediately went to her side. “Princess. I hope your room is to your liking.”

  The Iron She-dragon nodded. “It’ll do.”

  Brannie rolled her eyes, always a bit put off by the Western dragon. But even Celyn had to admit, the female could be a bit of a snob.

  “Excellent. And where is King Gaius?”

  “Oh, he’s out at the training fields, helping that one-eyed Rider.”

  Celyn’s back snapped straight at that and his sister chuckled, so Celyn reached over and shoved her off the table.

  “Ow! You mean bastard!”

  Using a ladle, Elina poured from the large cask of water outside the training ring into the battered pewter mug that Gaius Domitus was holding. Well . . . she tried to pour water into it. Instead, she ended up pouring water onto Gaius Domitus’s foot.

  “Horse gods of hell!”

  Gaius Domitus laughed. “It’s all right.”

  “It’s not all right. I was looking right at it!”

  “Here’s a trick.” He took her hand and wrapped it around the mug. “Before you pour anything, you hold the cup in one hand and then you pour with the other. By touching the cup, you allow your remaining eye to better gauge distance.”

  She ladled up more water and tried again. Some went down the side of the mug but most made it in.

  “See? My suggestion is that you practice grasping things. Cups. A sword. Your bow. Door handles. Anything. The more you use that ability, the easier it will become. Don’t be surprised in the beginning when you miss things. But over time—”

  “I know, I know. Over time, I will adapt.”

  “You will. I promise. I won’t say it will be easy. And it can take a bit longer than some think it should, but before you know it, you’ll be able to compensate for the loss. Now, I leave in the morning for a meeting in Kerezik while my sister is staying behind for her safety—”

  “I will kill anyone that looks at her.”

  “No, no. That’s not necessary.” The dragon smiled. “I only mention my trip so that when I get back we can practice more. I promise you, Elina, this will all become easier.”

  Elina let out a breath. “Thank you, Gaius Domitus. I truly appreciate all you have done for me this day.”

  “Well, Elina Shestakova of the Black Bear Riders of the Midnight Mountains of Despair in the Far Reaches of the Steppes of the Outerplains, it was my eternal pleasure.”

  “Pleasure?” Celyn said, suddenly appearing beside them. “What pleasure? Are we having pleasure?”

  Gaius Domitus smirked, but Elina had only one question. “What is wrong with you?”

  “Nothing. Just checking on you, seeing if everything is okay. You are my guest.”

  “I am?”

  “You are now.”

  Celyn studied the Iron Dragon King standing before him. He was missing an eye, but Celyn had already heard from most of his female kin that the black patch the dragon wore “only makes him more attractive.”

  Something that Celyn had never cared about . . . until this moment.

  “Everything going all right?” Celyn pushed.

  “Everything is fine. Gai
us Domitus has been showing me how to handle missing eye.”

  “Great. Great. I see he also got you an eye patch.”

  “No. That came from crazed She-dragon with hair like fire and no sense of boundaries.”

  “That sounds like Keita.” Celyn shrugged. “It is a nice color on you, though.”

  When Elina just stared at him, her brows pulled low behind her new eye patch, Celyn quickly turned to the Rebel King.

  “Your sister is in the Great Hall.”

  “And?”

  “Alone. And we have no clue where Annwyl is, which means the queen could be not knowing who your sister is right at this moment. Much to your sister’s annoyance.”

  “I see.” With that annoying smirk fixed on his face, the Rebel King nodded at Elina. “I hope to see you at the feast tonight, Elina Shestakova.”

  “I will need to eat,” she replied drily. “So most likely I will be there.”

  “Captain Celyn.”

  The royal walked away, and Celyn turned to find Elina gazing at him.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Captain? I did not know you had rank.”

  “I’m captain of Her Majesty’s Personal Guards.”

  “Did you get title because queen is your aunt and Southlanders are known for their incessant nepotism?”

  “No. I got it because I threw the last captain off Devenallt Mountain after he said something rude about one of my older sisters.”

  “Why would that make you captain? Dragons can fly.”

  “Aye. But I threw him in such a way that I broke both his wings against the mountainside and made him cry when he landed on his big, fat head. When my uncle Bercelak saw him crying, he called him weak and made me captain.”

  “That was cold and unfeeling of you.” Elina nodded. “I am impressed.”

  “The feast will be happening soon. You should get cleaned up.”

  “All right. I need lake.”

  “Or we can get you a bath in your room. The servants will bring you warm water.”

  “Lakes and streams all around this property and you make your workers fetch water so you can clean yourselves?”

  Celyn gave a small nod. “Yes.”

  Elina glanced off, then shrugged. “All right.”

  They headed back to the hall. “You may want to take a nap as well,” he suggested. “Our feasts tend to last until the wee hours.”

  “The wee hours of what?”

  “The morning.”

  “All right.”

  “And something else . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “You are not allowed more than one husband or wife in the Southlands.”

  Elina stopped at his sudden change of topic and, like a confused bird, turned her head to look at him. “Why would any man want more than one wife? Is that not too much work for him? Especially if both wives are warriors and still of breeding age. The male can barely handle one wife, much less two, and would need several brother-husbands to assist him. Although I guess—”

  “The point is,” he cut in, “only one mate. You can’t have several.”

  “That is sad for Annwyl. She deserves many husbands.”

  “What I’m saying is that you can’t have a lot of husbands.”

  “Of course I cannot.”

  “You can’t?”

  “No.”

  “Oh. All right.”

  “Because I am not worthy. I have failed two queens and deserve nothing. So I will live out my life alone and bitter. Perhaps my sister will allow me to care for her offspring until I die of old age . . . in shame. At least, that is my plan.”

  Celyn threw up his hands. “I have no response to that, Elina.”

  “Why would you? It is my plan. I am sure you have your own plan. One filled with more dragons tossed off mountainsides and many offspring who will get to positions of power through nepotism and the willingness to break the wings of their enemies.” She smiled and patted his chest. “See? There are plans for all of us!”

  Elina headed up the stairs to the Great Hall, and Celyn stood there . . . so very confused.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Kachka walked into the Great Hall after bathing in the stream. She heard gasps and turned to the poor, sheeplike servants setting up the dining table.

  “What?” she asked.

  “My lady—” an older woman began.

  “I am no lady. I am Kachka Shestakova of the Black Bear Riders of the—”

  “Perhaps,” the servant stated over Kachka, “my lady would like some fresh clothes to put on.”

  “Oh.” Kachka looked down at her naked body. “I guess—”

  A robe was thrown over her shoulders, her dirty clothes removed from her hands so that her arms could be stuffed into the sleeves, and the robe quickly cinched at her waist by a silk belt.

  “There,” the servant said, smiling, “don’t you look lovely?”

  “I do not know. Do I look lovely?”

  “Um . . .” The servant pointed at the stairs. “Why don’t I take you to your room, my lady?”

  “Kachka Shestakova. Not my lady. I have no royal ties to this world or the next.”

  “Very good. This way.”

  As they walked up the stairs, Kachka asked, “Do you not long for freedom from these shackles of oppression?”

  “Shackles?” The servant glanced at her. “I wear no shackles, and I’m free to come and go as I please. Annwyl is a fair and courteous queen.”

  “Do you fear if she hears your complaints, she will have you killed?”

  The servant snorted. “I complain to the queen whenever necessary, and she simply handles our needs. She’s never killed one of us for having a concern or voicing it.” The servant stopped and faced Kachka. “Perhaps it is her father you’ve heard of. He was a most unpleasant ruler by all accounts. But that is not Annwyl. If you are displeased in some way, though, please just let one of us know and we’ll be more than happy to—”

  Kachka waved off the sheep’s concern. “No, no. All is well. But do you know where my sister is?”

  “Your sister?”

  “Yes. She misses eye where our mother gouged it out in rage.”

  “Your . . . mother?” The woman nodded. “Suddenly everything makes sense.” She walked down several long halls until she reached a door. “Your sister has been placed here. You can have the room next door.”

  Kachka opened the bedroom door and stepped into a room bigger than anything she’d ever seen before that was not a tent used for an entire tribe of people. Elina was stretched out on a bed, sound asleep, her hair wet from a recent bathing, a robe similar to Kachka’s around her naked body.

  “I will stay here,” Kachka announced.

  “But your room is right next door.”

  “I will not leave my sister all alone in this giant room. She might get lost.”

  The servant opened her mouth as if to debate, but then, she simply closed it, sighed, and said, “As you like.” The servant gestured at Elina. “You may want to take a nap as well. The feast does not begin for another three hours and can go on for quite some time. We can also bring you some clean clothes, if you’d like.”

  “I have clothes.”

  Again, the mouth opened and closed, and there was an audible sigh. “As you like.”

  The servant took her leave, and Kachka entered the room and closed the door. She sneered at the big tub that she was now sure her sister had used and went to the bed. She stretched out on it, and loudly said in their language, “I can’t believe you used that gods-damn tub.”

  “It was offered, I used. Are you going to complain the entire time you’re here?”

  “You could fit twenty people in this room. Much more if some are willing to sleep on top of others.”

  “They don’t do that here, sister. You might as well get used to it. And stop trying to urge the servants into a revolt.”

  “They deserve better.”

  “Than what? The hard life of the Step
pes? Scrounging for food?”

  “Just because your wonderful Annwyl is fair doesn’t mean the next ruler will be.”

  “I know.” Elina turned her head and looked at Kachka through her one sleepy eye. She’d removed her startlingly bright eye patch before going to bed and her scars were an ugly reminder of all that she’d been through. But Kachka pretended she didn’t see them. As she’d pretended she hadn’t seen the bumps, scrapes, and bruises that her sister had suffered at the hands of Glebovicha’s favored offspring during the years they were growing up. “So I suggest, Kachka, that we help these people keep Annwyl as ruler for as long as she draws breath.”

  “Perhaps you are right.”

  Kachka reached down to the end of the bed and pulled the fur covering over her and Elina. They snuggled in deep, and Kachka let out a sad sigh.

  “What?” Elina asked.

  “This is all so very comfortable. I fear we will be weak and broken before the next full moon.”

  “Perhaps. But a very nice way to go, eh, sister?”

  Then they giggled, as they hadn’t done since they were very young.

  Celyn returned from town with new clothes for Elina and her sister. He didn’t want them embarrassed at the feast, but, then again, he wasn’t sure if they were ever embarrassed by anything. Just in case, he got them clothes that he didn’t think either would mind wearing.

  As he walked through the Great Hall, the servants were busy putting out tables and chairs. Everyone else was most likely napping. He’d already seen the majority of his Cadwaladr kin down by the lake, happily snoring away and had passed Éibhear on his way to retrieving his Mì-runach friends from the local jail. Again.

  Celyn quietly opened the door to the room he’d had Elina placed in. He dropped the new clothes on a chair and walked over to the bed. He could do with a little nap himself and the thought of curling up beside Elina seemed the perfect way to start his evening.

  He started to crawl on the bed when a head popped up from under the fur coverings. A head that was not Elina’s.

  Startled, Celyn froze as Kachka peered at him. She blinked, then smiled. “Oh, Celyn. Hello.” Her voice sounded sleepy and her eyes could barely stay open. She moved over a bit and patted the space between herself and Elina.