The Dragonprince's Heir

by Aaron Pogue

I swallowed hard and met her eyes. "You can't have it."

  "Taryn, we don't have time to discuss it. Caleb ordered me to get that blade from you before Othin or Seriphenes could."

  I shook my head. "No. No. Even if Caleb tried to take it himself—"

  "Caleb is in chains. Since the moment Seriphenes arrived."

  "Why?"

  "The wizard said you'd found your father. Said you'd bring him here. He said if we wanted any chance at all, we should bury Caleb and your mother beneath the king's cathedral and deny she'd ever been here."

  I shuddered, suddenly cold, and something softened in Jen's expression. "They didn't touch your mother. The king wouldn't allow it. But Othin convinced him Caleb was a threat."

  "And Caleb asked you to get my sword?"

  "He didn't ask. He said if Daven showed up here, I had to get that sword to him, or we'd wish the king had taken Seriphenes's advice. I don't know why."

  I collapsed back on the bed. "I think I do. Haven's name, Jen! Did everyone know but me and Mother?"

  "Know what?"

  "That Father might come back. Or...something worse than my father but walking in his skin."

  Jen frowned at me.

  I took up the sword but made no move to hand it over. "This is no ordinary blade," I said. "He made it with one purpose in mind. To kill him."

  "Oh."

  I nodded. "And Caleb doesn't think I'm strong enough."

  "Or he just wants to keep it from the hands of the king. Or the wizards."

  I shook my head. "No. They would scarce be able to use it. It has to be me. Or Mother. She doesn't need dragon's blood to protect her. But Caleb might succeed. I doubt my father would strike at Caleb."

  "Taryn, Caleb doesn't want to kill your father!"

  "But what if Father ordered it?" I thought about Laelia's warning. Don't let him see your mother in the king's peril. Had Caleb heard that warning, too? Had he worked it out himself? I shuddered. "What if it would save my mother? What if Father would have wanted it?"

  She met my eyes for a long moment. The only sound in the room was my pounding heart. Then Jen stepped closer. "Then what? Would Caleb be wrong?"

  I looked away to hide my tears. "No, but it is not his to do."

  She touched the back of my hand. Her fingertips were surprisingly soft. "Do you really want that burden? Let Caleb handle it. Let him make the call."

  "No. Because Father chose me."

  "Not for this," she hissed. "Not now! Not so young."

  I squeezed my eyes tight shut. "I am not a child. I am the Dragonprince's heir. This is what that really means."

  "Taryn—"

  "No. Your master cannot have the sword."

  She met my eyes levelly and tried to put some teasing in her tone. "I could take it from you."

  I didn't smile at all. "You couldn't. Not anymore. Everything has changed."

  She opened her mouth. She shut it. After a moment she said, "I have my orders."

  "No. You have his orders."

  She frowned. "Yes?"

  "Yes," I said. "You have his, and you'll have mine."

  "Oh?"

  "Bring my mother here," I said.

  She raised her chin. "Send one of the king's servants on that errand. I should report back to Caleb."

  I sat forward, elbows on my knees, and looked up at her, entreating. "I don't trust the king's servants, Jen. I trust you."

  "But Caleb needs to know what's happening."

  I shook my head. "Caleb is in chains. Whatever is going to happen right now, it is up to us."

  She tried to object again, but I spoke over her. "Whose knight are you, Jen? I asked you once before, and if the answer's still the same then I have no use for you at all. Caleb trained you, but who do you intend to serve?"

  She didn't hesitate. She didn't look away. She just said, "You."

  Something soft and warm began to glow behind my breastbone. I held her gaze. "What changed?"

  For another timeless moment she stared into my eyes. Then she smiled. "You."

  I didn't cry. I cleared my throat and spoke with quiet dignity. "This is my order, then. Bring my mother here. For all our sakes, as quickly as you can."

  She touched her temple in salute and left the room.

  I sat on the bed's edge, the fateful sword across my knees, and wished I hadn't won that argument. It would be so much easier to hand this burden to the hardened warrior. But I had won a salute from Jen. I had won my knight's respect. No matter what came of this conflict, that was something.

  And she had kissed me. I fought to hide the smile and the blush as my wardens filed back in. I fought to block the memory, to bend my mind toward more important things.

  It didn't work. I thought of frantic kisses and tender touches, even given as a ruse, and it warmed my blood. I thought of how she'd looked into my eyes, how she'd touched my hand. While all around me kings and dreadful powers waged their desperate battles, I thought of my fearsome bodyguard and smiled.

  17. The Lord of the Sarianne

  The moment couldn't last. Seriphenes came to question me and eventually left throwing curses over his shoulder. The Grand Marshall came next with a far more stable humor. His threats were quiet and certain and far more terrifying. But he left empty-handed, too.

  The king's guards had not stripped me of my weapons when I first entered the gates, and now I leaned on that fact as my defense. I wouldn't yield my father's blade until they stole it by force and, for now at least, they wouldn't go that far. But the Grand Marshall and the wizard both said, "The king will come and take it from you. Then you'll wish you'd given it to me."

  It wasn't just the sword they wanted, it was information. Secrets. Hints what to expect. But I guarded those weapons just as jealously as the strange blond blade. The king could try his worst, but this was a family affair.

  When at last my mother came, my heart leaped. She ducked her head to the guards, and they bowed in answer. Jen was with her, too, but Jen and Toman waited by the door. They caught the guards in conversation so Mother and I could speak in something close to privacy.

  Mother. My heart ached to see her again after all this time. She came to me and took my hands and stared deep into my eyes. She didn't smile. She worried. She waited for the dreadful news she had to know was coming. And that was her whole life, since the day my father disappeared. I tried to find a smile for her sake.

  "King Timmon says you've been to Tirah," she said.

  "And Gath as well," I said, trying to keep my voice light. "And somewhere in Terrailles."

  "Sachaerrich?" she guessed.

  I nodded, and she flinched as though I'd hit her.

  I swallowed hard. "It's true. I don't know how much Uncle Themmichus told you—"

  She gave a tight shake of her head. "He's a prisoner in the Halls of Justice. With...some elf."

  When I remembered how Laelia had kept my father prisoner, something like shame burned in my face. I saw color in Mother's pale cheeks, too, before I looked away.

  "Father was a prisoner against his will," I said. "And Uncle Themmichus was...well, a sort of prisoner, too."

  She smoothed down my hair and pulled me into a hug. "I'm sorry, Taryn. For everything you had to do, for everything you had to...to go through." She trailed off, miserable and helpless.

  I put my arms around her, and she squeezed me tight.

  "I saw the world," I whispered in her ear.

  She pulled away, puzzled, and I gave her a smile. "I saw the whole Ardain, Mother. I met two great lords and a pack of brigands, a handful of wizards and an elf. I had an adventure. While you were stuck on some old boat, I...I found my father. I found a way to be reunited with my father."

  She tried to hide it, but fear glowed in her eyes like the madness that had burned in his. She bit her lip, searching for the words. I waited. At last she stammered, "Seriphenes said...and he claimed Themm and...the elf both agreed...Daven's dangerous."

  "That's what everyone is so afraid of
," I said. "Even Father. Especially Father. But it's not always true."

  She sagged, disappointed. "Not always?"

  "No!" I said fiercely. "And that's better than nothing. It's better than dead, Mother."

  She gasped, but before she could voice a rebuke, I set my shoulders and said, "Everyone is ready to give up on him, Mother. Even Caleb. Even Father himself. But he's not a monster. Not in his heart. And he can be talked around."

  She dipped her head into a sympathetic shrug. "I want to believe that as much as you do."

  "And you should. You have to. Because you're the key."

  "What key?"

  "You bring him back. Uncle Themm said it happened once before. I've seen it happen twice in the last day. All he needs is you."

  She pressed her lips tight while tears traced shimmering paths across her pale cheeks. "He was so afraid of hurting me."

  "He can't," I said. "I've seen it in his eyes. Whatever monster lives inside him, it wants to burn the whole world down. But when it comes to you—-"

  "And you," she said, trying to comfort me. "He didn't hurt you."

  I showed her a grateful smile, but it wasn't the same. She was the one he really needed. For that matter, he was the one she needed. If they could find happiness together, that was good enough for me.

  "Father may not believe it—Haven knows Laelia won't—but if you are at his side, he'll be safe enough."

  I didn't notice how still she'd gone until I heard the cutting edge in her voice. "Tell me about Laelia."

  "Mother—"

  "Taryn! Please. Do you have any idea what King Timmon might do to your father? I need to know everything."

  "Laelia's an elf. She has a kind of magic. She can get inside your head and give you dreams. She made Father dream of you. Of a trip you took together once to Gath. That's how she kept him safe."

  My mother frowned. "Seriphenes spoke of her like some kind of oracle."

  I sighed. "Laelia thinks she can see futures, but she's wrong."

  "It's not uncommon among the elves."

  "She's wrong!" I said. "She can't account for Father's will. He's stronger than she thinks."

  Pity warm and tender swelled in Mother's eyes. "Oh, Taryn. What did she say?"

  "It doesn't matter! She's wrong."

  "Taryn?"

  "She's wrong!"

  I tried to look away, but Mother's expression held me trapped. I could not defy it. At last my shoulders slumped. "Laelia said you should be a slave here. She said Father should spend the rest of his life trapped in that memory."

  "It would not be such an awful life," she said.

  "It would not be life at all! I've seen it. She just...just banks him like a hearthfire. Smolder without flames."

  Mother squeezed my hands. "And you? What would become of you?"

  "It doesn't matter. It's not an answer! She said we have to satisfy this wretched king and sacrifice ourselves—"

  "She told you to go home." It was a guess. I could tell by her voice. A total guess, but spoken with perfect certainty.

  "She wants me to pretend to be a happy little lord."

  "Of course."

  I shook my head. "How can you say that? How can you agree with her?"

  "I don't." Something soft in her voice made me meet her eyes. She looked utterly vulnerable. "I don't agree with her. She agrees with me."

  "What?"

  "She has been so long pretending to be me." Tears shone in her eyes. "And now she sees the world the way I see it."

  For a moment I just shook my head, mute. "No."

  She nodded.

  "No!" I almost begged. "You want to stay here? You want him to go back?"

  "If Daven could be happy, Taryn? Do you have any idea how much he ached with the fear of losing control? If she could take that from him...if you could keep the Tower in peace...yes. Yes. I wouldn't even have to consider. I would stay here and kiss the king's boots every morning and every night if it gained me that."

  I had to catch my breath before I could answer. "Don't think like that. Wind and rain! You're as bad as the rest of them!"

  She cupped my cheek in a tender hand like I was still a little boy. "The world is full of tragedies. When you've lived as long as I have, you'll learn there are just some things—"

  "No! No, not you! You found the last dragon in all Ardain and bonded it without even a second watching vigil. You joined the king in his own carriage so you could find your husband a decade after everyone said he was dead. And now that you've found him, you're ready to give up?"

  My mother set her jaw and stared hard for a moment. Then she cleared her throat. "I was searching for the man my husband was. Not the monster he's become."

  "But he's not! It's a passing thing. He can overcome it."

  She had to clear her throat before she could answer. "Well when he does—"

  "Not when, Mother. Now. It's been too long. You have to fix this now!"

  She brushed my hair back from my face. "I know what you're wishing for, Taryn. I know just how much you want it. I do. But it's not real."

  "We could make it real."

  "No. Not anymore. As you said, it's been too long."

  I took her hands in mine and caught her eyes. "You're wrong. I know. I spoke with Father not an hour ago. Him. The real him, not the madness. And all he really wants is to go home. With you."

  "But it's too dangerous. If something should go wrong, at least the elf can—"

  "She can't. She can't do anything more than pretend she's you. Poorly."

  Mother giggled at that, pent-up tension finding an escape.

  I squeezed her fingertips. "You are what he needs. And you have something even the elf doesn't."

  She cocked her head. "Oh?"

  "The dragon. If something should wrong, could the dragon do to him what...whatever she did to the king's army train?"

  "Just put him to sleep?"

  I nodded. "It would buy us time, at least. Until we figured something out."

  She hesitated, searching for some new objection.

  "It would be no worse than living in the elf's hallucination," I said. "And you could be together."

  At last, almost reluctant, she said, "It could work."

  "It could. Where's your dragon now?"

  "Somewhere east of Dorion. But coming back here fast."

  "Good," I said. "Father needs the Tower, just as the Tower needs him. But...but we'll have to get him from the king."

  She straightened her spine and looked like a woman prepared to go to battle. "We will go and take him."

  I took up my sword, never doubting I would need it. "Lead the way."

  Even as we turned toward the door, it slammed open. My Green Eagle guards and my knights alike jumped away, hands darting to their weapons, but none of them dared draw against the man framed in the doorway.

  The Grand Marshall glared around the room. He'd had time to change into his full uniform, his hair slicked down now and heavy swords strapped on his hip and back.

  He looked me up and down, eyes lingering on the scabbard in my hands, then rounded on the guards with a contemptuous wave to my knights. "You let all your prisoners go armed these days?"

  They both went pale. One stammered, "His Majesty allowed—"

  "His charity abounds," the Grand Marshall snarled. "But you have a responsibility to watch for danger. Did you not notice you are now outnumbered?"

  The guard colored, and though he lowered his voice I heard him quite clearly. "But he is just a boy, and we have another six on guard out in the corridor."

  The Grand Marshall glowered. "The boy was trained by Caleb Drake himself. And these two were as well. They'd have you spitted before you could even shout."

  Jen nearly preened beneath the praise, but the Grand Marshall treated her and Toman to a sneer like he might give a rabid dog. Then at least he turned to me again. "But it doesn't matter. We'll be done of them soon."

  Mother stiffened beside me, and in her most regal
voice she demanded, "What do you mean by that?"

  "I've come to give you escort to the hall. The king will see you now."

  Mother raised her chin. "That suits us well enough."

  Even so, we left the room escorted on all side by armed guards, not in the display of determination we'd shown a moment before. And when Jen and Toman tried to follow us, the Grand Marshall looked them up and down and said, "Only if they leave their weapons."

  Jen agreed. Toman didn't. He accepted Jen's sword and waited in my room. I held out mine toward him, too, but the Grand Marshall closed a massive hand around my wrist. "That one comes before the king. His Majesty's orders."

  I'd never felt such nervous fear as I did in that march. Not in the cells beneath Tirah, not tied down while a building burned around me, not even trapped beneath the dragon's claw. Everything before had threatened me, but now we went to determine my father's fate, and with it my mother's. My fingers found the edge of Mother's hand, and she squeezed mine in a show of comfort. Her eyes were fixed straight ahead, her tread was steady, but I felt a trembling in her arms. I felt it in my arms, too.

  I had to find her a fate worth living. Whatever happened next, I had to safeguard her future. Caleb was in chains and my father on the headsman's block, so this was up to me. I held her cold fingers in my right hand and gripped the threaded hilt of Father's sword in my left.

  Our guards threw wide the throne room doors, and the Grand Marshall went to cry out like our herald, "The Lady Eliade and child Taryn."

  His words boomed in the huge hall. Rows and rows of benches stood empty, and the wide, cleared circle around the foot of the throne held only half a dozen men. Two of them bore pikes and two crossbows, and two wore the long black robes of wizards. Seriphenes and the Justice Antinus, and on the ground between them was my father. Still unconscious.

  I almost ran to him, but hands like iron caught my shoulders and restrained me. Mother, too, let out a cry of "Daven!" but the Grand Marshall himself caught her with one massive arm around her waist and hauled her bodily away. She screamed and clawed at his arm, but he just squeezed until she groaned and relented.

  A growl tore from my heart, full of all the animal hate I had heard from the dragon of Terrailles. I slung aside the leather sheath and turned on the Grand Marshall, ready to kill him, but the grip on my shoulder prevented me.