"It is not for me to decide," Arlian said. "It is your choice, Beron. I would be happy to have you stay on as my steward, and for you to remain my heir. I would be delighted to see Brook bear her child under my roof.
But you do understand that my life is still dedicated to destroying the dragons."
"Of course," Black said. "And you do understand that I would still be tempted if offered the elixir, and might well accept it."
"I think men can have a few disagreements, yet remain friends," Arlian said. He clapped Black on the shoulder. "Come on, then, and let's be about the business of putting this place to rights."
It was three days after the dragon's death before Arlian was finally able to get free of the Duke and the demands of his own household and ride the Duke's carriage down the street to Rime's home.
He did not dare walk—any time he set foot out in public now he was mobbed by admirers. And although his own coach had not burned, it was covered in soot, the paint and gilding cracked from the heat.
The carriage was just pulling away from the gate when he heard a voice calling, "My lord! Lord Obsidian!"
Such cries were common now, but this voice was familiar, and Arlian leaned out the window to see who spoke. He saw that two of the Duke's guards, sent to accompany the carriage, were holding back a man who was waving a sheaf of papers over his head and calling for Arlian's attention.
Arlian recognized him—Shuffler, Lord Wither's clerk.
"Let him come," Arlian called.
The guards hesitated, but their captain repeated Arlian's command, and they stepped aside.
Shuffler ran up to the side of the carriage and reached-the papers up to the window.
"My lord," he said, "these are your inheritance from Lord Wither. Lady Opal forbade me to deliver them, at least unless I let her read them, and Lord Wither had forbidden that, and I knew I should bring them to you all the same, but I... she said ..."
"She said I was a traitor," Arlian said.
"Yes," Shuffler agreed. "She did. But when you killed the dragon, I... well, I stole these, to give to you. Wither meant you to have them."
'Thank you," Arlian said, taking the papers.
"Thank you, my lord—you killed the dragon!"
"My lord..." die captain said.
"Yes, Captain," Arlian said. "We should go; I mustn't tie up you and your men any longer than necessary. Thank you, Shuffler, and may the dead gods defend you." He pulled his head and arm, and the papers, back into the carriage.
As the horses started forward and the carriage began to roll, he glanced at the top page, where Wither had written clearly, "Enziet, Rehirian, and I used this long ago. As Enziet's heir, I thought you should have it."
Below that, and on the three pages following, was an explanation in ancient, faded ink of a system for enciphering and deciphering messages. Arlian stared at it for a moment, then smiled.
Now he could begin decrypting those notebooks Enziet had left him—at least, those that had survived the fire.
There were more pages, though; he flipped through them quickly, then stopped and began reading more closely.
These were notes on exactly when and where dragons had been seen over the last few centuries. They did not give the exact location of any draconic lair, but they provided some information on where to begin looking.
Arlian folded the papers carefully and tucked them inside his coat, and sat staring at the empty seat opposite him.
He was the one being honored as a hero, and he would be the one to lead the war against the dragons, at least initially, but there were others who deserved honor, as well. Lord Enziet, heartless monster though he was, had provided the weapons; Lord Toribor had made the first great victory possible at the cost of his own life; and Lord Wither had left essential information. Arlian owed them all a debt he could never repay.
And Rime, of course—Rime had perhaps sacrificed hundreds of years of life and had put herself through intense torture to destroy the dragon she bore, and in so doing had lured the elder dragon to its death. She, at least, was still alive to receive his gratitude. He looked forward to seeing her, and telling her the news; he looked out the window just as the carriage pulled up to her gate.
Rime was still in bed when Arlian was admitted to her chamber, but awake, alert, and clad in a proper dressing gown. She sat up when he entered.
She was still Rime, her grey streaked hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, her eyes bright, but something seemed to have gone out of her. She seemed smaller and weaker than before.
But that was hardly surprising—her heart had been ripped from her chest. Recovering from that, even with magical assistance, would surely take more than three
"Enter the conquering hero," she said.
"It seems to me that you 're the hero," Arlian said as he approached the bedside. "Words cannot express my gratitude. Believe me, my lady, I had no idea what the magic involved when I asked you to attempt it."
She smiled. "Arlian, do you ever know what you're getting involved in?"
Arlian smiled back. "Do any of us?" he asked.
"I suppose not, but you seem to be an extreme case.
I understand you are now the Duke's chief adviser?"
Arlian shook his head. "No," he said. "You are—at my insistence. I don't know how to advise him on rul-ing the Lands of Man; I don't have the experience, the maturity, for that. I am merely his warlord."
"Warlord?"
Arlian nodded. "We are at war, my lady—the Duke has declared it so."
"With the dragons." Rime did not make it a question.
"Of course. In truth, we have always been at war with the dragons, though Lord Enziet forced a seven-hundred-year armistice upon us—and then gave us the knowledge we need to win someday."
"Then you think we will win?"
"Rime, there are millions of us, and perhaps a few hundred of them at most, and they need a millennium to gestate more. Now that we know obsidian in the heart will kill them, they have no real chance."
"They will probably kill thousands of innocents in the process, though."
"I know."
Rime saw the expression on Arlian's face and said no more on that.
"There will be a few more dragons, you know," she said. "Some three dozen dragonhearts still live."
"More than that, after last summer—but you, my lady, are no longer one of them, and the rest will be offered a choice, to undergo the same process you have or be killed. The Duke will insist. Over the past few days I have told him something of the nature of dragonhearts—not everything, but much of it He suspected some of it, and I filled in some gaps, and he has agreed that the dragonhearts must submit to the procedure—or die. We cannot have those among us whose loyalties are divided. We cannot allow our foes to breed."
Rime was silent for a moment, then said, "It's in-credibly painful, you know. I thought I would go mad.
Death would have been welcome."
"I know."
"And I believe I will now be as vulnerable to aging and disease as any ordinary woman."
"I assume so, yes."
"Do you really think the others will agree to it?"
"Probably not—and they'll be killed. The Duke has decreed it, and I will enforce it"
"So you'll destroy the Dragon Society completely."
"Yes."
"Enziet, Drisheen, Iron, Nail, Wither, Belly, Voriam, me—you've made a good start."
"Yes"
"And you—will you have your heart cut out as I did?"
"Eventually. When the war is won. Until then, I cannot afford it."
She smiled wryly. "Then I foresee a long war," she said.
Arlian stared at her humorlessly, and her own smile wavered, then vanished.
Her little joke was not funny, she realized. Winning this war was Arlian's vengeance, the vengeance he had devoted himself to since he was a boy, and more important to him than his own life— -far more important.
Further, the long
life that most of the dragonhearts prized, that Lady Opal sought so avidly, Arlian saw as his corruption, his contamination with the dragons'
taint.
And the longer the war lasted, the more innocents would die in dragonfire, as Arlian's family had—as her own family had. Arlian knew that. She had, for a moment, forgotten.
Her joke was not funny at all.
"I hope you're wrong," he said. "I really do."
"So do I," she said.
Table of Contents
Book I:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Book II:
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Book III:
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
The Dragon Society (Obsidian Chronicles Book 2) Page 40