Spine of the Dragon

by Kevin J. Anderson

  That was before he drugged her.

  Cade brought her to his private chambers to discuss the deaths of several prisoners in the secret saltpearl operations and how to replace them. Unsuspecting, she had tasted a bitter undertone in her wine and thought that the vintage was a little off. Soon she found her arms and legs tingling, her words slurring. Bravas were rarely affected by wine or spirits, but this drug was powerful. Her body couldn’t fight it off. As she began to lose control, slumping down, a leering Cade had dragged her limp and weakly resisting form over to his bed.

  She could barely struggle while he worked at untying the knots on her black garments. When that proved too slow he took a sharp letter opener from his writing desk, slashed the fabric, and peeled off her clothes so that she lay naked on his sheets, her cinnamon hair splayed out on the pillow. Elliel felt as if she were floating, detached, observing her own actions like a voyeur. Cade stroked her cheek and fondled her breasts as if inspecting property. Then he forced himself upon her.

  In the numb fuzziness of her mind, Elliel thought he was ravishing someone else, and that she—a Brava—would come and rescue the poor maiden. But it was her, and she could do nothing to drive him off.

  When he was finished, he simply left her there in her ruined Brava garments. “You are my Brava, remember that. You swore an oath.” He kept one of the candles burning for her when he sauntered off.

  After she fought off the effects of the drug, Elliel gathered the tatters of her garments but could not find the remnants of her dignity. Impotent to do anything about it, she slipped away from his holding house, keeping to shadows. Shame, confusion, and failure lodged themselves deep within her. Her bonded lord had raped her, and even as a Brava she had been unable to fend him off. She had never experienced such crippling uncertainty in her life, such astonishing helplessness.

  But because she was bonded to Cade—bonded to him!—Elliel could not simply leave, nor could she kill him to avenge what he had done. Brava honor demanded her service, even as loathing and resentment nearly paralyzed her. Cade was a powerful lord, who could bring disgrace upon her and all Bravas. His saltpearl operations and the secret of the Isharan slaves must not be exposed.

  Caught in a labyrinthine quandary, Elliel avoided Cade, seeking answers. She didn’t dare let anyone know what had happened, what had changed. She longed for someone to give her advice, like her mentor back at the old settlement where she had learned what it meant to be a Brava. What did all her training mean anymore?

  She avoided Cade for days, refused to see or speak with him. She remembered him on top of her, while she was rendered totally helpless by the drug. It wasn’t her fault, but it was her failure. A Brava should have been alert to all dangers! Even now, she felt bound and gagged, but with bonds that only he could see. When Cade glanced at her, his look of provocative satisfaction thrust into her like a knife.

  One day she saw him whispering to his men-at-arms, who gave her a similar lascivious look, laughing with one another. Elliel heard men whisper in the village, saw their looks when she went to the tavern to collect a tax payment, as she had always done. Her life and duties were different now. Cade had ruined everything. He had damaged her in multiple ways, and he was an enemy she could not fight against.

  Worse, she did not realize that rumors had reached the bitter, jealous Lady Almeda. Elliel was walking through the dark corridors of the holding house, having just delivered a full saltpearl report to the chamberlain late at night, so she wouldn’t have to see Lord Cade in person. Her situation was untenable. Elliel might be tempted to kill Cade if she had to face him.

  She faulted herself for being unprepared that night. It was her only unforgivable mistake.

  Almeda sprang out of the shadows, shrieking at her. She plunged a long knife into Elliel’s stomach and slashed sideways to open her gut. By reflex—before she realized how badly she had been wounded—Elliel struck back, punching Almeda in the face, smashing her nose and cracking her head against the stone wall. The sobbing woman slid down the wall and crawled away, leaving Elliel to bleed and bleed on the floor.

  Only Elliel’s wreth heritage, an instinctive magic that she barely understood, kept her alive by slowing her metabolism. She fell into a deep, slow unconsciousness.

  An hour later, Cade had found Elliel gasping and dying in the corridor. He frowned down at her for an interminable moment before he shouted for the healers, and they saved her life by the barest of margins. They stitched her up and set guards at the chamber so Lady Almeda wouldn’t try to kill her again. Cade watched over Elliel as she drifted in and out of consciousness for days. She didn’t know whether the husband or the wife frightened her more.

  During her long recovery, Lord Cade had time to summon Utho to help cover up the scandal. What to do with the wounded Brava woman who had a secret to hold over the nobleman and—because of the secret but vital Isharan slaves—over the entire Commonwealth?

  Lady Almeda was outraged, insulted, and inflamed with revenge. With Utho as witness, Almeda vowed to destroy her husband by exposing the saltpearl operations, which might even provoke a new war with Ishara when the empra learned of it. Irrational in her rage, Almeda didn’t care what the revelation would do to their noble family, their wealth, or their holdings.

  Utho didn’t dare let the news get out. He knew how the sometimes-soft Konag Conndur would react to news about the Isharan slaves. One solution would have been to kill Lady Almeda. The other solution would require a great sacrifice from Elliel, at the cost of her memories, her legacy. They decided that a young Brava woman was expendable.

  At one point, Elliel slipped into a fever of infection, but overheard what Cade and Utho planned to do to her. She thrashed about so violently that she had to be tied down, and in her delirium she knew little of what was happening to her. While Elliel was bound and feverish, Lady Almeda demanded satisfaction, insisting that the woman who had “tempted” her husband must pay a terrible price.

  And Utho complied. It was the best way to end the crisis with the least amount of collateral damage, all told.

  Elliel didn’t have a choice when Utho’s justice was forced on her. The tall, grim Brava got out his needles and his ink. He crouched before her and applied the rune of forgetting to her face while she was still fighting the fever. The explanation would be perfect.

  An indignant and vindictive Almeda insisted on watching.

  In order to protect their future, they concocted the lie for Elliel, something so horrific as to be utterly believable, for the good of the Commonwealth. The awful letter that Utho had written, the terrible fiction of how she had lost control and murdered helpless children … that was just cruel. From the moment Elliel read the note, she had believed it all.

  Now she knew the truth.

  * * *

  Reeling, Elliel came back to herself. In the light of the smoky campfire, she looked at the plump scholar girl and Thon, both of whom stared back at her.

  She crumpled to the ground, heaving deep breaths, trying to sort the new knowledge, the restored memories. She coughed out her words. “Innocent. I am innocent! I didn’t do … that.”

  Furious, she lurched to her feet. Her face felt hot, but it had nothing to do with the new tattoo. She grabbed the golden ramer band at her waist.

  Thon and Shadri stared at her, backing away.

  Elliel clipped the band around her wrist, squeezing it tight so that the sharp golden fangs bit into her veins, activating the magic with spilled scarlet fluid. The band glowed, and a ring of fire circled the top of it.

  Elliel pulled on the magic, added to the blood that fed the ramer’s power. The flames grew bright to engulf her hand, rising into a curling sword of flames. She held it high, crackling and bright in the dark forest.

  With her other hand she pulled out the rumpled letter that described her false crimes, used the ramer to ignite it, and burned it to ash in an instant.

  “I’m a Brava again.” She caught her breath and looked at her two
companions. “And I have a story to tell you.”

  74

  WHEN Hale Orr returned to Convera Castle with the empra’s response, his smile sent a chill down Utho’s spine. He dreaded what the Utauk merchant captain would say.

  Rushing up to the castle as soon as his ship tied up to the docks at the Confluence, Hale still smelled of salt and sweat. His crimson and black silks swirled around him and his cape was askew as he strode into the konag’s parley chamber. Conndur silenced the muttering of the other lords and ministers and rose to his feet, eager to hear the answer.

  Utho braced himself.

  Hale drew a circle in the air and announced, “I presented your offer, Sire, and told Empra Iluris what I know. She remains skeptical about stories of the wreths, and her key priestlord is sure it’s some kind of trick, but I think I convinced her that the danger is not imaginary and that the offer is sincere. Your willingness to relinquish Fulcor Island should she meet certain conditions was truly enough to catch her interest.”

  Conndur rested his hands on the table in front of him, as if to brace himself. “Did she agree to meet at the appointed time?”

  Hale Orr gave his report only to the konag, paying no attention at all to the other gathered nobles. He did not see Utho bristle. “Yes, despite clear skepticism in the Isharan court, she eventually accepted the invitation. She will travel to Fulcor Island with a formal escort at the arranged time.” He looked uncomfortable, rubbed his cheek with his stump. “There is one other thing, Sire. When the Glissand sailed into Serepol Harbor, we saw the Isharans burning a pair of Commonwealth ships—fishing boats, I believe. Certainly not warships.”

  With a glance at the other vassal lords in the room, Lord Cade thumped a fist on the table. “How dare they take civilian ships! I’ll wager they tortured or enslaved those poor innocent Osterrans.”

  Utho was amazed the lord could say such a thing without even a trace of irony. For his visit to Convera Castle, the northern nobleman was attended by his new bonded Brava, a blocky man with pockmarks on his face and a nose like some smashed fruit; Gant had served Lord Cade for the past year, secretly helping to manage the enslaved Isharan pearl divers. The choice of the ugly man was a concession to his bitter wife, who insisted that no female Brava ever be allowed in her husband’s service again, for obvious reasons.

  Hale gave Cade a withering glance and exclaimed, “Cra! Are you so unaware of what your own people are doing? The Commonwealth is not innocent in this! The Fulcor garrison is also capturing Isharan vessels and executing the prisoners. Such actions only fan the flames between your two lands.” He fumed. “Both sides must stop if there is to be hope of peace. All the people in the three kingdoms, including all the Utauk tribes, will suffer if we can’t stand together.”

  Utho could barely contain his anger, but he remained like a silent statue, for now.

  Amid the indignant voices that rose, Conndur added in a stern tone, agreeing with the merchant captain. “Yes, I am aware that our ships have preyed upon them as well, though I never ordered it.” He flashed a sidelong glance at Cade, who muttered and turned away.

  Utho was surprised by the konag’s subtle reaction. Did Conndur actually know about the enslaved pearl divers? He and Cade had worked so hard to keep the secret.

  Hale’s loud voice broke into the hubbub. He seemed skilled at cutting through an unruly argument. “Hear me! My sense is that Empra Iluris is also frustrated with raids like the one at Mirrabay, which she claims was entirely unauthorized. I detected clear friction in the court, and I am inclined to believe her. She has ruled for thirty years, and her consistent actions suggest that she prefers peace and prosperity.”

  “As do I,” Conndur said. “We both have the same goals, and we both have to endure intractable followers.” He glowered at his vassal lords. “It stops now! A complete cessation of hostilities, nothing they can use against us. I command that there will be no more aggression against the Isharans while they have agreed to talk with us. Remember Mount Vada! We may need them, whatever our differences. Ancestors’ blood, there is too much at stake.”

  Utho’s heart sank as he saw the deluded determination on the konag’s face. This was as bad as he had feared. He had tried to dissuade Conndur from his reckless scheme. He was risking so much to suggest an alliance with the Isharans because of an as-yet-unproven and mostly unseen enemy. As if they could be trusted in anything! After seeing the devastation in the Dragonspine, Conndur was convinced that the end of the world was at hand.

  Prince Mandan sat beside his father, wearing a red cape lined with snow cat fur. At least the prince understood the true stakes, even if his father had his heart set on a naïve tea party with their mortal enemies.…

  “What if the Isharans attack again with their godlings?” asked Goran, another vassal lord. Lord Goran’s bonded Brava, a hardened older woman named Klea, stood by his side. “Should we just roll over and die? Flee in terror without fighting back?”

  The konag frowned at him. “We need not worry about godlings if I can negotiate peace. Empra Iluris has agreed to meet. They will stop their harassments on our coast for the time being, and that is all I ask.”

  Utho was so appalled he couldn’t restrain his outburst. The slow anger inside him finally reached the boiling point. “Harassments? Those animals just unleashed a godling and burned Mirrabay! More than a hundred innocents killed.” He thought of Mareka’s brown eyes, her soft and beautiful face. “And all those who died there before.”

  Conndur sounded sad. “I know you have great pain within you, old friend, but I have to try to convince them, because if I don’t try, then I am a failure as konag. The wreths, the dragon…” He nodded, as if affirming his own decision. “We’ll go out to Fulcor Island and prepare for the empra and her entourage to arrive. After that, we will see.”

  “Who will accompany you, Sire?” asked Lord Vinay, whose county in the southern foothills of the Dragonspine Mountains had suffered severe damage in the recent upheavals.

  “I’ll take an escort, and we also have the troops stationed at the garrison.” Conndur looked at the uneasy prince. “Mandan, I need you with me. If we can convince the Isharans to be our allies, they need to know that you represent me and speak for me.” He nodded toward Utho, who stood frozen with buried frustration. “Utho, you will be at my side of course, and I hope these other lords will let me borrow their bonded Bravas. I could have no better protectors.”

  “I will go,” Klea said without asking her master. Goran seemed surprised at her declaration, but did not argue.

  “Lord Cade will grant his permission for me as well,” said ugly Gant, although his master did not look happy.

  The prince was sweating heavily, obviously terrified. Utho placed a firm hand on Mandan’s shoulder. “All will be well, my prince. I will be with you.” That seemed to be all he needed to hear, and he visibly relaxed.

  Conndur rose, dismissing the council. “Make preparations. I want to be at Fulcor Island a full two days before the empra’s party arrives.”

  * * *

  Before departing, Utho called an urgent secret meeting of the local Bravas. Late at night, they gathered at the empty remembrance shrine in the lower town. “We must salvage what we can from this debacle. The Isharans are sure to betray us, just as they did at Valaera. They might try to kill Konag Conndur and seize Fulcor Island for themselves.”

  Gant muttered, rubbing his mashed nose. “Some might say the konag himself betrays us by proposing an alliance with the enemy. We should use the opportunity to kill the entire Isharan party, assassinate their empra, their priestlords, and anyone else they bring along.”

  Klea paced the small, dark room, troubled by the suggestion. “Then we would be as dishonorable as they are.”

  Utho remained contemplative. “Honor does not apply where the Isharans are concerned. This is a vengewar.”

  The gathered Bravas agreed to remain alert and ready to fight, but they would watch how the parley discussions unfold
ed on the island. Utho had no doubt they would do whatever needed to be done … but he did not know what that might be. He dreaded the possibilities.

  The following day, the Commonwealth expedition departed in transport boats from the Confluence down the Joined River to the sea. Prince Mandan stood out on the deck, obviously uneasy. “Is it dangerous out on the ocean? What if a storm comes? Thunder and lightning?” His voice cracked. “What if there’s a sea battle against the Isharans? What if they unleash a godling against us?”

  “I would never underestimate their treachery, but in this circumstance, I doubt they’d be so bold. The empra will hear what your father has to say, if only because she is curious. But then we have to be ready to make our move.”

  The flotilla of transport ships flowed down the thirty-mile stretch of Joined River to the widening mouth of the sea, where the port of Rivermouth bristled with countless docks. Two warships waited there, provisioned and ready to depart, flags flying with the open-hand banner of the Commonwealth and the rising sun of Osterra.

  Mandan stared toward the flat horizon, intimidated by the vastness. “The water just rolls off the edge of the world. It goes as far as I can see.”

  “Yes, my prince. And somewhere beyond lies the coast of Ishara.”

  “I hope I never see it,” Mandan said.

  Utho squeezed the prince’s shoulder again. “I hope you never have to.”

  75

  KOLL the Hammer vowed to show the frostwreths that they couldn’t simply take back the land they had destroyed. He would fight for his kingdom, even without help from the Commonwealth army. He would sting like a wasp.

  At times like this, he missed Lasis more than ever. His bonded Brava was a powerful fighting companion with a solid understanding of legendary things, not to mention his deadly ramer and a measure of magic. But something had happened to him on his mission to Lake Bakal.

  On the grounds of Fellstaff Castle, Koll watched new recruits practice with swords and spears, slowly becoming an army. Men and women trained as archers, though it was a challenge for them just to hit their targets. Pokle joined them, determined to learn how to use a bow and arrow. He had hunted rabbits around Lake Bakal, but mainly with snares. Eventually, his aim matched his earnestness.