Resistance: The Umbra Chronicles Book 3

by Grace Martin

  He didn’t know it yet, but if he didn’t rally the rest of the Draceni and fight against Aoife’s purges, the Draceni would become slaves. Oisin himself would become a slave, used in his dragon form to terrify the people and ravage the land against his will. He would be tethered with reins made of the braided hair of his true love, and live as a slave to Aoife’s Dragon Magi.

  ‘Oisin, King of the Draceni, I am Emer, Bach Chwaer and Umbra’s heir. I beg an audience with you and the elders of your people.’

  Oisin inclined his head — not a complete bow, but a gesture of respect, at least. He was very tall and lean, standing a whole head taller than the elders beside him, and none of them were small. Among a handsome people, Oisin was not just prince, but King.

  ‘The Council will hear you, Bach Chwaer and Umbra’s heir. Emer, welcome to our fire.’ His voice was a rich tenor, warm and cultured.

  He bowed. I bowed quickly in return. Benches were brought so Sparrow and Rhiannon could sit beside me. As we were all seated, I felt suddenly like I was in a courtroom. This didn’t feel like an informal meeting, despite the informal setting. There was something about these elders that commanded respect.

  It reminded me uncomfortably of the courtroom I’d been in as a child, when I’d tried to get free of Maldwyn and a crooked court system saw us back in his clutches after only a single day. It reminded me of when the Empress sent me, Caradoc and Aoife to talk to the Librarians, to convince them to aid us in the fight against the dragon, Master Darragh, who had threatened to destroy Rheged. It reminded me of eighteen different Winter Solstices, when Sparrow and I would be brought to Caillen hive to be transferred to another guardian, to get new names and new identities, and a new place to hide. Occasionally our new guardian would be nice. More often than not, though, they really were best described as creepyguardians.

  I was so brave. So brave. Someone might be tempted to say it wasn’t brave to sit there at all, but sometimes small things require the most bravery. It takes a lot of bravery to fight a dragon. Sometimes it takes a lot of bravery to sit in a chair. Everyday bravery, the kind of bravery that puts one foot in front of the other even when exhausted, the kind of bravery that smiles in sorrow and gives comfort to others while grieving, kindness to others when hurting, that’s the bravest thing of all.

  Chapter Eight

  ‘King of the Draceni,’ I had to remember not to use his name. We hadn’t been introduced. Yet. Or again. ‘Respected elders. I wish that more favourable events that brought me to your fire. If nothing else, please allow me to express my gratitude for your hospitality to my sisters.’

  Oisin inclined his head in a gracious acceptance of my thanks.

  ‘Unfortunately, it is more than gratitude that brings me here today. I bring you desperate news from Rheged.’

  ‘What has Rheged to do with us?’ one of the elders asked. ‘We are deep in Camiri territory and the Camiri army has been successful in defending our borders.’

  I nodded. ‘Indeed, elder. The Camiri army has successfully defended the borders of Camaria for generations… against the Camiri slaves who made up the army of Meistria. They have successfully defended their territory against slaves who were tortured, threatened and abused into fighting. The Camiri in Meistria recently won their freedom. They rebelled against the Meistri and now the army of Meistria is decimated.

  ‘The Empress is dead and Aoife, the White Queen, will take her place. The Camiri in Meistria do not recognise her as lawful ruler of the Thousand Counties. In retaliation, Aoife has started to purge Meistria of all Camiri.’ I leaned forward. ‘That means that all the Camiri in Meistria, slaves for generations, men, women, children, soldiers, old people, all of them are going to be slaughtered.’

  There was an indrawn breath from the crowd. The elders looked at each other, but Oisin held my gaze. His expression didn’t change, but it was his very immobility that told me of his intense reaction. He was hiding some powerful emotion behind that fixed gaze, something he didn’t want to share, something he felt he had to hide.

  ‘They need your help. The Draceni are immeasurably powerful. I appreciate your humility, your decision to live simple lives, but we need your help. I beg you, come to Meistria with me. Aid us against the White Queen. Save the Camiri before they are annihilated.’

  I thought it was a good little speech, anyway. I hadn’t given many, for all that Aoife accused me of being a showman three times a day.

  The elders murmured among themselves for a moment. Oisin interrupted them, his voice tight. ‘Why should we help the Camiri? They have done nothing for us. And you know nothing of our history, Bach Chwaer, if you think our humble lifestyle was our own decision.’

  ‘It wasn’t?’ I wasn’t embarrassed at showing my ignorance. There was no point. I was ignorant. The best way to stop being ignorant was to ask questions.

  ‘No, Bach Chwaer, it wasn’t.’

  ‘Can you stop saying it like that? I expected better manners of a King.’ And that, my friends, is why I don’t belong in politics.

  Oisin’s lean face twisted into a sneer. ‘And what will you give us, Bach Chwaer,’ that was deliberate, ‘if we agree?’ He stood up. He towered over all of us. ‘You ask us to go into battle against a whole nation. You ask us to risk our lives. Risk the lives of our brothers and sisters. And for what? A warm, self-righteous feeling afterwards, while we count the bodies of our dead, while we recite the names of families that don’t exist anymore? You’re going to have to do better than that, Bach Chwaer.’

  ‘Call me Emer, if you want to,’ I snapped, getting to my feet too. ‘Call me Meriel, call me Dierdre, call me Hawk, if you want to. Call me dog to my face, if you dare. In the broken world of the Thousand Counties after the war, I had a new name every year. I don’t care what you call me. It can’t be worse than some of the names I’ve been called in my time.’

  I was a fraction of his size. He was lean and rangy, but so tall and muscular he would have weighed at least twice what I did. I didn’t care. If he took a step forward to tower over me, I was going to bring so much magic up under his chin that he’d never bend over the same way again.

  ‘I don’t care what you call me, but I do care about the people who are going to die. Your people. The Camiri. Not my people. I don’t have a people to lose. All I have are my sisters sitting behind me.’

  I threw my arms out wide. ‘I’ll tell you what you’ll get out of it, Oisin. You’ll get a world that isn’t broken. You’ll get a world where you can still live like this, sharing your communities and your songs and your culture. You’ll get a world where the Draceni aren’t enslaved by the White Queen, the same way the Empress enslaved the Camiri.’ I swung my arm to point at him, one finger rigid in warning. ‘You’ll get a world where you aren’t someone’s beast of burden, kept in a cage in Cairastel and led around with a leash.’

  He didn’t answer and I slowly came to the realisation that I’d been goaded into this. He’d barely had to say anything and I’d lost my temper, shouted at a King, threatened his whole community and still expected him to give safe haven to my sisters. Oops.

  He sat back down. I followed suit, feeling very small, but not deflated. I wasn’t fighting for myself. I was fighting for the future of the Thousand Counties. It was important enough to keep fighting for.

  He watched me for a moment. The firelight glinted off his red hair and the topaz he wore in a gold circlet. His hair was pulled back into a braid today. The last time I’d seen him, it had been wild and long, laced with blue beads like the ones the Camiri wore to remember their fallen comrades. ‘No,’ he said.

  I gaped. ‘Are you kidding me? Tell me truly, are you joking? I just told you that your whole world was going to be destroyed and you’re willing to let that happen? What kind of a King are you?’

  He frowned. It was all I could do not to quail. The fire seemed very high, the crowd very large and my sisters behind me very vulnerable.

  ‘It isn’t enough, Bach Chwaer.’ At least t
he sneer had gone out of his voice now. ‘I can’t risk my people based solely on your word. Why should we risk everything when you haven’t even bothered to learn anything about us?’

  I had one card left to play. When I’d met him before, he’d been a dragon under Kiaran’s command. Kiaran had carried a rope of braided human hair, the hair of Oisin’s true love. While Kiaran carried that rope of hair, Oisin was forced to follow Kiaran’s commands. He’d been as much a slave as any Camiri. But there had been one authority greater than the bond of that rope. Umbra. Oisin’s obedience to Umbra was even greater than the obedience he gave to his rider. And thanks to me, commanding him in Umbra’s name, he’d managed to get free of Kiaran.

  I was going to use that obedience now. I would do anything to get the Draceni on my side.

  ‘And if I command you, Oisin, in Umbra’s name? What then?’

  ‘You are only Umbra’s heir. You do not have the power to command me, not even in that holy name.’

  I stood. I was barely taller than him when I was standing and he was sitting. I kept my voice low, confident. ‘I am not just Umbra’s heir, King of the Draceni. I carry Umbra here with me today.’

  I let her shine and she lit up the faces of the King and the elders, lit up the whole campsite until people were shielding their eyes from her brightness. Even Oisin had to turn his head away from her light. I heard Sparrow whisper behind me, above the gasps of the crowd, ‘My God, Hawk, what are you?

  As Umbra’s light dimmed, I said, ‘She is a part of me, Oisin. I carry Umbra within me and one day I will find a way to bring her back. Umbra spent her life helping people. She never turned away from someone who asked for her help.’

  Oisin flinched.

  Right then, I knew I had him. He’d said as much, when he’d taken the opportunity to free himself from Kiaran’s thrall. I started to tremble with excitement. With the Draceni on my side, I had a chance of stopping Aoife. The Thousand Counties would have a chance to be free. Full of confidence, I ended my speech. ‘And so, I ask you, in the name of the one I bear, to come to the aid of the Camiri in Meistria. Will you honour the sacrifices of your ancestors, and stand up to fight for good in this world?’

  He regarded me squarely, even though his eyes still had to be smarting from the light Umbra had flashed into them. He stood. I gave a small encouraging smile. His lips compressed, and he replied, ‘No. This council is over.’

  Then he turned on his heel and walked away. The elders also rose and dispersed. Someone came to take the benches away. I stared at Oisin’s broad back as he left the circle of firelight.

  It couldn’t be real. He couldn’t have said no. He’d implied, in the future, that he was obliged to obey Umbra. So, what the hell had just happened?

  Rhiannon put her hand on my arm. ‘You spoke well, Emer.’

  ‘Not well enough.’

  ‘Thank you, Sparrow, I had just about reached that conclusion on my own,’ I snapped.

  The meeting was over and I was the only one still holding onto it. The King and the elders were gone, even the benches we’d sat on were taken away. The people were mingling with one another, forming small groups, some leaving the circle of firelight and going to their wagons.

  The musicians went back to their places and the air was filled with a rhythmic drumbeat, quickly joined by other instruments. Voices picked up the melody, but this time it was only a few people, rather than the whole community. A space appeared and people started to dance.

  I just stared.

  I’d tried to save the world and been told no. How could he possibly have said no? It was important. And he’d said no.

  That son of a bitch.

  ‘Emer, don’t.’ Rhiannon put her hand on my arm.

  I stared right through her. It took an effort to focus on her. I think my focus was still on Oisin, in the far distance now, talking to the elders, gesticulating wildly. ‘I hope they’re giving him hell,’ I muttered.

  ‘Let it go, Emer.’

  ‘He’s willing to let thousands, tens of thousands of people die because he doesn’t think it’s worth the effort!’

  ‘You don’t always get what you want, Hawk.’

  I rounded on her. ‘Shut up, Sparrow.’

  ‘I wasn’t-’

  I just turned my back on her and walked away. Bridget and Eliann were in the crowd. I shoved through until I found them. ‘Emer,’ Eliann began.

  ‘Just change me back. I don’t care. The whole damn lot of you can die for all I care.’

  Eliann changed me back.

  The worst thing about it, though, was that I did care. I cared that a lot of those people dancing around the fire would die. I cared that Oisin and those of his companions who survived would become slaves, treated even worse than the Meistri had treated the Camiri. The Draceni wouldn’t even be allowed to be human. They would be forced to remain in their dragon forms unless the whim of their masters commanded them to transform. And they would be forced to become monsters, to ravage the countryside, to destroy villages and cities, to murder indiscriminately.

  Oisin had no idea what he was condemning his people to.

  All because he didn’t think he was getting a good bargain.

  I flew back to Ce’Branna. No one noticed me flying into the open window of my room. The King and Saoirse must both have faith in the enchantment cast upon it. Andras was still asleep. He hadn’t even noticed I was gone. I couldn’t even climb back into bed with him. The enchantment that permitted me to pass through the bespelled window also forbade me to change my own shape until the sun fell on my feathers.

  I drew the curtains, so Andras wouldn’t be woken early by the light of the dawn. I positioned myself on the other side of the curtains, so I would receive the light before he woke. I slept, even in my bird form. I woke even before the sky lightened and as the rising sun touched my feathers, I changed back into my own shape.

  I slipped out from behind the curtains carefully, drawing them closed behind me. I lay down on the bed beside Andras, not touching him, so I didn’t wake him.

  He must have been used to rising early. It wasn’t long before he stirred. He blinked several times when he saw me and it made me laugh when I’d thought I’d never laugh again. I reached out for him, running my hand along the curving muscles of his upper arm to his shoulder.

  ‘Didn’t expect to see me here?’ I asked. ‘Where else would I go?’ Where else, indeed?

  ‘It wouldn’t be the first time I dreamed you.’

  Oh. I stopped laughing. My hand reached his face, even as he reached out to stroke the backs of his fingers over my cheek.

  ‘It seems impossible that you’re real. Like this is all just a dream and I’ll wake up soon with nothing left.’

  ‘Don’t say that,’ I whispered. ‘I’m here now.’ I shifted closer, so we were on the same pillow, and something about that seemed so intimate that it hurt. I had never even dared to imagine a moment like this.

  ‘Are you happy, Emer?’

  ‘Oh, Andras.’ To be cared about like this was almost more than I could stand. ‘Oh, yes, I’m happy. And I make you happy, don’t I?’

  He pulled me close suddenly, burying his face in the curve of my neck. ‘I love you so much, Emer.’

  This time when we made love, it was different. It was sweet and desperate and demanding. All his practiced technique seemed to have deserted him and all that was left was a man who trembled in my arms and took everything I had to give, leaving me with all he had to offer. I held on to him as he guided me through it and brought me to a joy I hadn’t even known last night.

  ‘Is it always as good as this?’ I asked, as I lay in his arms afterwards, my head resting on his chest, listening to the beat of his heart.

  He laughed, his breath stirring the hair over my ear. ‘I’m not sure you’re supposed to ask that.’

  ‘Well, it’s not like anything I’ve ever felt before.’

  That turned him serious and his hand was still shaking as it tangled i
n my hair. ‘That’s the way it should be. What you went through before — that wasn’t love. Love is beautiful. It gives. It takes. It shares. Love was nothing to do with what was done to you.’ He kissed my forehead softly. ‘From now on, you’ll know nothing but love, I promise you that, Emer.’

  ‘Oh, Andras.’

  Chapter Nine

  We were dressed by the time the guard knocked on the door and waited for our permission to enter. I blushed what was probably a deep raspberry red when I realised that it was obvious to the guard what we’d been doing, even before he entered and saw me blush.

  The guard stood to attention and saluted. Andras, sitting at the window-seat opposite me, frowned. ‘You don’t need to salute me anymore, Ferdas.’

  ‘I salute the man I respect, sir.’ He closed the salute as a myriad emotions passed over Andras’s face. ‘Their Majesties have requested that yourself and the Bach Chwaer join them for breakfast, sir.’

  Andras and I looked at each other. ‘Breakfast?’ I asked. ‘I have to say, I didn’t expect to be locked up and then invited to breakfast.’

  ‘Should be interesting, then,’ he replied. He stood and offered me his arm. ‘May I escort you to breakfast, Bach Chwaer?’

  And damned if that didn’t make me blush all over again. The guard, Ferdas — whom I liked already because he’d paid honour to the man I loved — saw it and let a small smile slip before he covered it with professional equanimity.

  It wasn’t quite like attending a family breakfast, though. Not that I have a huge experience of such things, but I was pretty sure most family members aren’t escorted to the dining room by a coterie of four guards, all of them wearing not just swords at their sides, but wands, in special scabbards on their belts.

  I’d seen several very fancy dining halls in my life. Sure, I’d been either a prisoner or a servant when I’d seen most of them, but that still counts. This room was… not very fancy. It was a large room, compared to the hives and houses I’d always lived in, but as far as public spaces for royalty go, it was actually quite cosy. I mean, the ceilings were only about twenty feet high and covered with frescoes that had probably been painted by a master of the art. The table, though carved and heavy and probably also antique, was only large enough to seat eight people comfortably.