The Dragon Knight's Curse (The Dragon Knight Series Book 2)

by D. C. Clemens

  “They’ll then quickly learn why they can’t mimic that power. I’m afraid my method for keeping sane cannot help others.”

  “I see. That is a shame.” We were quiet for a few minutes before Odet said, “Your father keeps looking back at us.”

  “I know. I’m ignoring him.”

  She gave him a little wave. “Clarissa said he was a ‘maritime adventurer.’ Was that her way of saying ‘pirate’?”

  “Yes. Be warned, he’ll try to get you to pardon known crimes against him.”

  “What are his known crimes?”

  “Never asked.”

  “I’ve never seen someone smile so widely. I’ll laugh hysterically if you do that right now.”

  “Don’t hold your breath.”

  “Come on, just a teeny smile.”

  “Invite me to your room one night and you’ll get your wish.”

  With a mock tone of girlish fretfulness, she said, “But then someone would surely see us and my beloved will strike you down! All your blood will ruin my floor.”

  “You believe him good enough to accomplish the task?”

  “You’d give him a good fight, but yes, I believe so. He was trained by some of Alslana’s best warriors and casters from an early age. He currently belongs to Alslana’s High Guard as one of the youngest members to ever be accepted.”

  “Sounds like the type of person I’d prefer backing me up at the moment. Where is he now?”

  “Unfortunately for you, he’s with my father’s escort while he visits with the southern nations.”

  “When does he return?”

  “If the schedule is kept, within two weeks.”

  “Then it sounds like we have a fortnight of nights together.”

  “But my floor.”

  “It would be worth it.”

  The next five minutes or so were filled with only intermittent comments. The next real interaction came when she nudged me harder than she probably meant to and whispered, “That’s her.”

  A woman with graying blonde hair had passed to my left. I allowed the ambling woman to take a few more steps down the center aisle before standing up and saying, “A pleasure to meet you, Lady Vealora.”

  She turned with a surprised spin. Most of her face was still smooth, but a few creases around her eyes and mouth could not be halted. “C-can I help you, young man?”

  The twitchy manner of the thin, dignified woman told me how to proceed. I had to hit hard. Loosely resting a hand on my sword’s pommel, I said, “You’re a busy woman, so I’ll get right to the point. I would like five hundred gold standards delivered to my ship by the end of the week. In exchange, I won’t deliver the evidence I have of your involvement with the Advent.”

  Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. She turned a shaky head, but no one was coming to her aid.

  “Do we have a deal or not?”

  Finally, she stammered out, “W-what proof do you have?”

  “Are you joking? Everything I have on the Advent leads back to your family. I know about the original Summertide edition you own and how to use it. I even know you keep the scroll in your husband’s office. Enlighten me, how would a spymaster feel when he learns his own wife is a traitor? Or is he part of this conspiracy as well? Or maybe you don’t care about what happens to him at all. Does the same go for your son? I know an Advent worshipper attempted to take him in the Qutrios attack you were mysteriously absent from. Was that to take the suspicion off you? Or were you serving him up as an offering?”

  “Never!” she exclaimed louder than she desired. She cleared her throat and composed herself closer to the highborn she was. “You obviously have little idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

  “Perhaps. I’ll admit to being intrigued by this cult. I’ve seen them use corrupted puppets and even heard they were the ones to truly defeat Riskel Rathmore.”

  “Hmm, it’s unusual for an outsider to learn so much of our work without either being turned or… disappearing. Who are you?”

  “A simple sell sword who perhaps has gotten in over his head.”

  Her dauntless smile made a few more wrinkles appear. “We can always use capable young men in the fold. A new age is coming, you see.”

  “As long as this new age has coin, I’d rather have the coin.”

  “I’ve had a well full of coin my entire life and it has never quenched my soul. It will be the same for you.”

  “Are you trying to recruit me, Lady Vealora?”

  “Even if I gave you every coin I have, you’ll be caught in the change we will bring to Orda. Why not benefit from this change on a level far deeper than most mortals will experience? To inherit the power of an immortal?”

  “And you were recruited this way? With the idea that awakening an old god will bring about your immortality?”

  “Idea? I’ve seen that power for myself. I’ve seen him for myself. You will it as well if you prove yourself worthy.”

  “And what would be the first step toward that?”

  “This is no place to talk about such things. You know where my home is, correct? Why not come over this evening? We’ll talk. I’ll even be able to gather fifty gold standards so you may waste it on drink and whores while you think things over, hmm?”

  In theory, it sounded as though I could get her to spill more on the Advent if I continued the ruse, but in practice, I was pretty sure she would have me killed. The cue to get everyone to reveal themselves to a traitor was for me to say “It’s over, Lady Vealora” loud enough for all in the temple to hear. A stamping of boots came first from the pirates and Bell. Then the guildsmen made themselves known. The noblewoman was surrounded before she could comprehend what was happening.

  Her eyes fell on Odet when she let her hood fall. “P-princess Odet,” she gasped. “What is happening here?”

  “I would like to know that as well, Lady Vealora. How could you betray Alslana? My family? Your son?”

  “Betray!” She swiveled her head around again and sighed. The Advent in her reappeared. “You think so small, your highness. We are both small players, but you will soon see that my actions will save my family while no action you take can save your own.”

  “What do you mean? What did you do?”

  She looked away from her. To the armored men, she said, “You are here to arrest me, are you not? Get to it, then.”

  “Wait a moment,” the princess requested of Braden, who was about to give an order. “Are you saying the Advent will target my family?”

  Her wrinkly grin grew again. “How many people do you truly trust in your father’s escort? Perhaps word of some tragedy is on its way right now!”

  I foresaw a cackling laugh about to spring from her, but I didn’t let it get that far. I stepped up and planted a punch squarely on her stomach, sending the delicate woman wheezing to the floor. “Get her out of here as fast as you can,” I told Braden. “We can’t have word spreading about her arrest.”

  A thin rope was bound around the noblewoman’s hands and a piece of cloth was used to gag her mouth. She was then led out the back where Braden and his subordinates would take her to a guild cell.

  Glancing at Odet showed her to be in deep thought. “Are you all right, princess?”

  “Yes, but I must go update my mother about everything we have so far. I will return in three hours. Let’s go, Bell.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The group had decided beforehand that we would meet at the temple again in four hours for the next traitor-luring operation. The pirates and I wasted much of that time at a tavern discussing what had happened over a big stack of meat. Both my father and Lucetta laughed their asses off every time they described me hitting the old woman. I allowed myself to snicker once or twice with them.

  We met up with Braden at the temple in the hour Odet said she would make her return, but we had to wait a half hour more before the royal actually arrived. When she did, Braden informed her that Lady Vealora was secured in a cell and that a binding s
pell would prevent her from summoning her eidolon or cast any spell of note. He also took great care to make sure few guildsmen saw her, hoping word of her arrest wouldn’t spread to her husband and make our operation pointless.

  Since spymasters weren’t prone to declaring their location, the courier was forced to send the encoded letter to his house. Braden probably did have the pull to find out where Lord Vealora was, but as that in of itself might be seen as suspicious, we elected not take that route. We just hoped he didn’t work too late.

  It was the same setup as before, except the pirates and guildsmen were waiting halfway down the pews instead of nearer the podium as before. If a spymaster attacked me, it was in my best interest to get backup as quickly as possible. Once again, I was in a position most men would strangle a fluffy kitten to be in—sitting alone by an Astor woman.

  “How did your mother take the news?” I asked her.

  A little smile formed at the brink of her lips. “She acted as though she knew all along that Lady Vealora was not an honorable woman, but she was hiding her shock, I’m sure. I’ve informed her that the guild still needs time to determine the honesty of her husband, so she won’t decree anything today.”

  “And she still doesn’t realize you’re helping?”

  “I know she suspects, but without Dad around, she knows she can’t stop me without getting really upset. As I’m in Ecrin surrounded by our armies, so she won’t go that far. She was more worried when I told her to send a letter to Father. I assured her it was only precautionary.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  “Now I do. The more I think about it, the less it makes sense for the Advent to target him. It would take an army with a significant strategic advantage to overwhelm his escort. And even if the Advent hire every mercenary in the Blue Swords they won’t have the manpower they need for such an attack.”

  “I don’t think the noblewoman was talking about an army.”

  “I know, but I’m even less worried about a traitor within his escort. They’re severely underestimating the king if their traitorous plan involves anything less than three elite warriors. If I believed there to be that many conspirators in Alslana, I’d be absconding with my family at this very moment. I’m more concerned about my mother. She’s the one with valkrean blood and without a warrior’s instincts. The queen would also be easier to get to if my father isn’t around to help defend her. Of course, they both could be targets.”

  “You said the king will arrive within a fortnight, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “And our new prisoner sounded quite confident that arresting her would change nothing in the grand scheme of things.”

  “Yet I’m certain she fears the ultimate penalty her crimes will bring. She wants to be immortal, after all. Her poise must then come from believing the Advent’s plan will soon avail her of her situation. Even if we were assured tomorrow that she couldn’t provide us with any useful information, her status as both a noble and a valkrean will stay her execution for many weeks.”

  “So we can guess that if this plan exists, then it’ll make itself known before your father returns.”

  “I’ll see to it that my family is well defended by extra guardsmen until Dad can see to the defenses himself.”

  I blankly regarded my open book for a moment, mulling over our circumstances. Then I said, “Until Ghevont discovers what my next goal should be, you can consider my blade added to whatever protection you wish to give your family. I’ll be a poor substitute for your paramour’s sword, but it’s all I can offer.”

  A sugary chuckle escaped her. “Thank you, but it’s clear your sword is not all you’ve given in this quest of yours. For instance, I would like your prediction on Lord Vealora.”

  “My prediction? Okay, hold on… Well, the fact that Owen doesn’t appear to be in league with the cult implies that at least one parent isn’t a member. He would’ve been born into it if they both were. There is the possibility they didn’t want their son involved in this mess, but the Qutrios attack implies otherwise. I expect he won’t show.”

  “I’m leaning that way, too, though his career will be ruined once it’s known a traitor was within his own home. Owen will be devastated… and stop thinking what you’re thinking. This situation would affect anyone. Well, everyone but a completely practical business man like yourself.”

  “And as I hope our professional partnership continues a little longer, I will go ahead and ignore my thoughts on Owen.”

  “Are you really still… Oh, your father is waving at us again.” She once again acknowledged his wave with her own. “Is he always so jovial?”

  “I hope not.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “Clarissa didn’t tell you that I just met him?”

  “Now that you mention it, she was quite ambiguous when she spoke of your relationship with him. Is that why you were in Dranall, to meet your father?”

  “No and yes. I was looking for family, I just didn’t know which ones were still out there. He was searching for my brother and I when we ran into each other on the same lead.”

  “Clarissa mentioned that you were still looking for somebody. So it’s your brother?”

  “Yes. It was my resistance to corruption that attracted the Advent to him. The others I found settled in Bukuna.”

  “You don’t sound like a man who’s found his family.”

  “I suppose Clarissa has been better than I thought at keeping my privacy intact.”

  “Really? I’ll need to give her a stern talking to, then. But what does your privacy have to do with your family?”

  “Because I would need to remember them to care as much as I should.”

  “Oh… Now I see what she meant…”

  She was going to say something else, but then thought better of it. I inferred she had figured out why I didn’t go on telling everyone I met about my memory loss. I appreciated her holding her tongue on the matter.

  We spoke less as the spymaster’s time neared, but he remained an absentee. There came a point when a few people began trickling into the temple for the evening sermon, and though we waited even as several more people came in, the lady’s husband never showed himself. When other nobles Odet recognized came in, we thought it best to end the operation before someone spotted the princess and spoke to her in that flamboyant voice nobles used when trying to attract attention to themselves.

  Even knowing the separation was coming did not lessen the disappointment I felt go up my serrated arm. Why the prickle came from there, I didn’t know. I did know I would have to find an opportunity to be alone for a while so I could relieve the uncontrollable restlessness a girl like her fostered.

  What happened to the Vealora family did not interest me all that much. As far as I was concerned, unless Lady Vealora spilled her guts literally or metaphorically, my business with them had ended. Braden explicated some of the psychological, physical, and magical means the guild could implement to extract what information they could from her, but the process would be a slow one, particularly when that person was of high status. It didn’t help that her husband’s last ditch effort to save his own career would be to defend his wife from these “fraudulent” accusations. Lord Vealora didn’t show up, but he would still have to be treated with suspicion. Perhaps even his son to some extent, but Odet would be there for him.

  Publically, the word “Advent” wasn’t used to describe Lady Vealora’s crimes, since few would even comprehend what that meant. And while the public would express some anger over the noble traitor, I doubted they’d be incensed enough to push for a quick execution, especially without tangible proof of her misconduct. Her own vague admission to being involved with the Advent simply opened the investigation.

  All in all, this amounted to putting my full attention to Ghevont’s progress. The original Summertide scroll in the Vealora manor was given to the scholar, which he valued greatly, knowing it was an item his parents had lost their lives over.


  Two days after the Vealora operation, I entered the siblings’ room, where Ghevont had made his new work space. He had etched a glowing rune in a wall to provide the light a few candles were too weak to give. Reminding me of the first time I saw them, Marcela was taking an afternoon nap on the bed as Ghevont scribbled away on one of his papers, many of which did not fit on the tiny table and were thus piled around his feet.

  I said his name. I lobbed him an apple when he looked up. His reflexes were better than yesterday, when it was his lap that caught it and not his hands.

  “Oh, yes, thank you. Marcela gives me oranges, but I find they make my fingers too sticky for my work, though I suppose I enjoy their flavor better. I’ve noted most fruits-”

  “How’s your work going today?”

  “Wonderful! Well, not if I include Corbin’s letters. They are a dead end unless we can find dozens of more coded letters to complete the largely incomplete thoughts and responses. However, thanks to some books your guild associates have given me, I’ve translated almost every Old Voreen word with great accuracy. I am now consolidating all my time on a single Summertide theory. You see, I’m now quite positive that Summertide doesn’t lead to a map, but is itself a map!”

  “It mentions the grave?”

  “No, but it points to it nonetheless. I’ve held this theory for some time, of course, as even the newer editions of the epic lend well to that idea. Jages Mar, who’s really Jagstonius Marcunis in the original, visited many lands across Orda, and I’ve concluded that these locations, when aligned properly with one another, will pinpoint the exact location of the grave. What I have to figure out is learning which sites are relevant. Using them all leads to mixed results, so there’s a specific pattern I need to find. We’ll otherwise be forced to individually check over seventy different possibilities.”

  “I’m assuming you’ll be able to narrow that down.”

  “Yes, yes, no worries. In two days I’ll cut the possibilities by at least half. It’ll get a little trickier after that, however. Since many of these ancient places have been lost through time, obtaining precise coordinates will require actually finding out where some lie. Being off by just a few miles in any one of these positions will deviate the final objective by hundreds more.”