Princess Valene ordered her guard back to his post. "It's not quite slavery if you were getting paid, but it certainly sounds like the terms were misleading. Anything else?"
Kali glanced at Lord Reznik, daggers in her glare. "Plenty. Draks were worked to death in starvation conditions. When too many died, men were sent to collect more from our villages in the mountains. Our villages are surrounded by human guards, making sure we're always ready to be pressed into service. I escaped with the hope of finding a way to free my people, and when I saw these two striped draks"—she gestured to Kale and Delilah—"I knew the time was right."
Delilah shifted and looked at the floor. She hoped Kali would be able to make her case without involving Kale or herself. Her brother spread his wings and reached forward to take Kali's hand.
Kali looked over her shoulder at Delilah. "Our elders tell us stories about striped draks. How they carry the favor of the gods. When Kale's wings grew while he was helping me, I knew it was a sign from Rannos that our victory was preordained."
Delilah resisted the urge to laugh. Kali was certainly aware that Kale's wings were completely unrelated to freeing the slaves. She hoped Pancras hadn't told the prince or princess the truth.
"This is utter nonsense." Lord Reznik took a step onto the dais. The guards adjusted their stances and readied their weapons. "These sla—The workers went on an unfounded, murderous rampage."
Prince Gavril nodded his head in agreement. "Well, certainly I'm not prepared to take the word of random draks who wandered in off the street over a member of this court."
Delilah reached into her pouch and pulled out the papers she took from the mine. "You won't have to." She waved the papers in the air. "I have documents here that show the wages the slaves were paid in addition to the expenses they were forced to bear." She hoped that's what the papers showed. She never took the time to verify what Kali and her father told her during their escape.
"Lady Milena, if you would?" Princess Valene gestured toward Delilah. The sorceress handed the papers to Lady Milena. She opened them and looked through them.
Lord Reznik spun on Delilah. "How did you acquire those?" He pointed a finger at her and turned to Prince Gavril. "You see? Thievery! I am the victim of murderers and thieves!"
"The evidence of these documents is clear. The draks were paid insufficient wages to cover the expenses they were levied. One of these papers is a personal note from Lord Reznik addressed to the miners calling out Volos by name and referring to the miners as 'vermin slaves'." Lady Milena took a step toward Lord Reznik, glared at him, and then brought the papers to Princess Valene. The princess looked over them, fighting to keep her ever darkening expression neutral.
When she looked up, contempt and disgust painted her face. Her lips were a thin line, and her eyes flashed in anger. "Lord Reznik. Slavery is forbidden in Etrunia. This was clearly a slave revolt." She turned her glare on her husband.
Prince Gavril clucked his tongue. "I am shocked, Lord Reznik. Shocked, I tell you." He sighed, an exaggerated display of contempt. "I suppose I must punish you." He yawned and waved his hand in the air. "You are hereby stripped of your titles, Reznik. Be gone."
Delilah snorted. A noble without a title was still a wealthy man. He'll probably buy his way back into influence before the end of the year. Kali shook her head and stepped back to stand next to Kale. Delilah sneered as she saw the female drak's tail intertwine with Kale's.
Reznik sputtered, his head turning to glare at the draks and then snapping back to the prince and princess. Delilah snarled at him.
Princess Valene stood. "Furthermore, I decree that your lands and properties are forfeit, to be sold at auction, the proceeds of which will be given to the draks of Firescale Clan as restitution for three centuries of mistreatment, and you are banished from Almeria, forthwith, upon pain of death." She sat back down, crossing her arms over her chest. "Although, execution of that sentence is commuted until such time that the roads out of town reopen. Lady Milena?"
Delilah blinked and stared at the princess. A smile crept across the drak's face. Reznik's bald head turned beet red, and Delilah thought she noticed a vein throbbing in his temple.
"Yes, Your Highness." Lady Milena stood at attention.
"Escort Reznik back to his estate. He is permitted one change of clothing and sufficient funds to purchase lodging at a modest inn in town for the rest of the winter. See to the administration of his estate until the proper arrangements can be made and ensure Reznik’s thugs are removed from the drak village as soon as possible. Take him away."
"It shall be done, Your Highness." Lady Milena bowed and then grabbed Reznik by the arm.
Reznik snatched his arm back from Milena. He spun to face Princess Valene. "This is an outrage! The Council of Nobles will hear of this. You will—" Lady Milena stepped forward, drawing her sword and laying it across Reznik's neck.
"The Princess of Etrunia, a sovereign of Etrunia, has spoken. You have been dismissed. Exit with me or you will be carried out and left for the carrion eaters."
Reznik sputtered and fumed. His mouth moved in wordless rage as he trembled. Lady Milena stared at him, cold determination on her face. She might as well have been a statue, so unmoved was she by his sputtering.
"Give me an excuse, Reznik."
Prince Gavril clucked his tongue. "You've been stripped of your lands and titles Reznik. She is the captain of the Royal Guard. You know no one will question her if she runs you through right here. Not after what you did."
Reznik threw up his hands and stalked out of the throne room. Kali cheered and hugged Kale, reaching over his shoulder to pull Delilah into an arm-crushing hug. Kale's wing slapped her in the face as she tried to extract herself from the tangle of arms, wings, and tails.
"Now, all of you except the minotaur, get out!" Prince Gavril stood and pointed toward the doors. "Minotaur, come with me. I wish to speak to you."
* * *
Once they returned to their living quarters, Kale no longer could contain himself He whooped and hollered, jumping up and down and hugging Kali. She nuzzled his neck, nipping at his ears as their tails intertwined.
"You know, I'm happy, too, but do you have to do that out in the open?" Delilah shoved her brother as she passed. She picked up her grimoire and flopped into her armchair.
Kale felt his face become hot. "Sorry, Deli."
"What in the name of Pacha's blue bollocks is going on—" Edric stepped out of the unused bedroom, his jaw dropping upon seeing Kale and Kali. "By the burnin' hearth of Adranus… now there's three of them, and one 'em's got wings!"
"Edric!" Kale ran over to the dwarf and hugged him. For the first time since they knew each other, Kale noticed the dwarf actually smelled clean. To Kale's amazement, the dwarf's beard was groomed, and he was dressed in clean clothes; however, they were in need of repair.
"Enough, enough." Edric pushed Kale away. He shuffled over to the other armchair and sat down next to Delilah. "How do we get ale around here?"
Kale stepped over to the food lift and pulled aside the tapestry. While the light streaming through the windows faded, it felt too early yet for dinner. He rang the service bell and opened the door. The lift and tray were still down in the kitchens.
He stuck his head in the hole. "Hey, send up ale with dinner!" His request was met with cursing.
"Fancy system you have here." Kali carried a chair over to Delilah and Edric from the table and joined them in front of the fire.
"So, spill it. Don't leave me wandering in the dark like an elf underground. What's all this I hear about a mine and slaves and fighting that I wasn't a part of?"
Kale brought a chair over in front of the hearth. "It's Kali's story, really. Deli and I were just helping." Kali was already seated in between Delilah and Edric, so Kale had to settle for the space next to his sister or next to Edric. He chose his sister.
Delilah shut her book. "Miss Drak there tricked us into helping with her little slave revolt. Once I r
ealized what she was up to, it was too late to back out."
"Deli, that's not really fair." Kale placed his hand on Delilah’s arm. She shook him off.
Kali held up her hands. "No. No, she's right. I did deceive you initially. I didn't know if I could trust you. My people went through a lot. I didn't survive by being stupid."
Delilah turned her head and glared at Kali. "It didn't strike you as stupid to deceive a sorceress?"
Kali turned her hands palms up, smiled, and shrugged. "I didn't know how powerful you were. Do you know how many hedge wizards wander through town trying to pass off peasant tricks as high sorcery? Until I saw you in action, I had no way of knowing whether or not you were drunk on Pacha's wine."
Kale chuckled. Delilah had a point about Kali keeping the truth from them, but when it really mattered, she was forthright. Personally, he didn't mind helping; it beat sitting around in the palace watching his sister read all day.
"My brother likes you a lot more than I do." Delilah hopped down out of her chair. "Next time, just tell me the truth." She carried her grimoire into the bedroom and slammed the door behind her.
Kale took the opportunity to jump out of the dining chair and hop into the armchair. It was much softer. Kali climbed into the chair with him. It was snug for the two of them to sit in it together, but she seemed to want the physical contact. It reminded Kale of when he and Delilah used to sleep cuddled together as hatchlings.
"So, fine. You want to mount her, and your sister hates her." Edric kicked his legs against the chair. "Now tell me what bloody happened!"
Kali told Edric the story of her clan, how they were duped into working in the mines, and how she conspired to free them. She told him of Kale and Delilah's involvement and admitted she misled them at first. Kale watched with rapt attention as she told the tale.
"And now that we've freed the slaves, Kali is going with us to Muncifer!" Kale squeezed Kali's hand. Edric wrinkled his nose and scratched his chin under his beard.
"That's still the plan, eh? A change of scenery might be good. I don't think I can go back to the gambling houses here anyway."
"I've never been to Muncifer." Kali squeezed Kale's hand in return.
"Neither have we, me and Deli, I mean. Pancras is from there, I think. He and Deli have to go there for some business with the Arcane University." Kale was tired of Almeria and was ready to get back on the road. He wished Delilah could magic up some good weather for them to travel.
"I heard Muncifer was a dwarven city before The Sundering." Edric yawned. "When the world cracked, the mountains split open and exposed the city. Most of the dwarves died. Then, when the world healed, the city remained on the surface, and minotaurs repaired it. Now it's mostly humans and minotaurs, but I think there are a couple of drak clans living in the area, too. No more dwarves, though."
Kale cocked his head. "You'll be the only dwarf there?" That sounded sad. Kale wasn't sure he would want to live where he was the only one of his kind.
"Nah, of course not. There will be dwarves there, but they'll be immigrants, probably. Just like the minotaurs and draks here, right?" Edric looked up as the bell rang from the food lift. Kale extracted himself from Kali and put the food out on the table. Delilah emerged from her self-imposed exile to help. The smell of food ignited a hunger Kale wasn't aware he had. The last meal he consumed was when they broke their fasts that morning, and the excitement of the day kept his mind off food. Now that it was in front of him, he couldn't wait to dig in.
* * *
Pancras followed Prince Gavril to his antechamber as the three draks headed back to their living quarters. He knew what the prince wanted to talk to him about, so he formulated his response as they strode.
The minotaur spent a lot of time thinking about how to solve Prince Gavril's problem and an equal time figuring how to make it appear he solved the problem without actually rendering Princess Valene barren. The only sure conclusion he had reached thus far was that he needed more time.
Prince Gavril shut the door behind them and sat in an armchair. The flickering of the candlelight cast sinister shadows over his face. They danced and jumped over his eyes like dark faeries on a midsummer's night. He drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair and looked at Pancras. "All right, enough of this nonsense with the draks. What is your status?"
Pancras cleared his throat and bowed. "I've taken my research as far as I can with the limited resources I've been able to access and given the storms we've had. I have acquired the materials and equipment I need to begin some rudimentary work, but I would like to verify a few ideas with the priests of Cybele, discretely, of course, before finalizing anything."
The prince leaned forward. "Do you have a time schedule?"
"Three to four weeks minimum, possibly more if additional storms come and I'm unable to procure additional materials in a timely fashion." In truth, Pancras could conduct all the experiments he wanted to perform in about a week, but he figured Prince Gavril did not know enough about wizardry to know that.
"Acquire the materials now, before the next storm."
"I would, if I knew what I needed. This is not an exact science. I am attempting to replicate a very messy, obvious effect in a way that leaves no outside traces. I'm essentially creating new magic so this affliction cannot be traced back to you." Or me.
"Well, what does all this entail?" Prince Gavril furrowed his brow. Pancras almost saw the gears grinding in the prince's head.
"Currently, it appears the method with the most promise is a fetish of some sort, to be inserted into the va—subject. It will release its magic, rendering her—"
"She'll have to insert it?"
"Or you. I think it would be inappropriate if I did it. There would be talk." Pancras suppressed a chuckle at the thought of having such an intimate encounter with Princess Valene. He didn't find women attractive, and human women possessed far too little fur for his taste and lacked horns or hooves. Feet always made Pancras squirm.
"There is no other way?" Prince Gavril chewed on his fingernail. He stood up and paced the room.
"None that I am aware of at this time. Further research may prove illuminating." If Prince Gavril was as squeamish as he suspected about touching his wife in such an intimate fashion, Pancras hoped he would be more open to a slower pace of progress.
"Then do the research you need." Gavril spun, sweeping his cloak behind him. "But finish before you're scheduled to leave. You need to go to Muncifer, yes? I will not allow your departure until your task for me is complete."
Pancras borrowed a phrase from Lady Milena and bowed. "It shall be done, Your Highness."
Chapter 19
It took several days after the reckoning of Reznik before everyone learned enough of each other's routines to stay out of each other's way. With the addition of Edric and Kali, the living quarters were too busy for Delilah's taste, and she took to carrying her grimoire out to one of the vacant sitting rooms to study.
She never saw servants tending the hearths in these sitting rooms, but there was always a roaring fire waiting for her. Delilah suspected some sort of enchantment. Ever-burning torches were not unheard of in Drak-Anor, and she supposed that same magic could be adapted to keep a hearth burning eternally for someone with sufficient wealth.
Reading in front of a crackling fire relaxed her, and she found herself often dozing while she studied her grimoire. She learned to hold the book in such a way that it wouldn't drop onto the floor if she actually fell asleep, and the armchair was large enough in which to curl up in comfort when she truly wanted a nap. There was no place for Kali to sleep except in the bed she and Kale shared, and while draks were used to sleeping together in groups, Delilah had become accustomed to solitude or only her brother's presence at most. It was a good day for a nap.
She awoke to see guards reaching for her. Before she could cry out or move, they grabbed her snout and arms and lifted her bodily out of the chair. Another guard bound her legs. Despite squirming and her b
est efforts to wrench herself free, the humans were too strong. They wrapped leather straps around her snout, muzzling her, and then put a sack over her head. They bound her hands before they carried her out of the sitting room.
Delilah spent much of her life navigating dimly-lit underground passageways, and visualized the route they took. They navigated several sets of stairs down near what Delilah thought were the kitchens and larder. The next set of stairs took Delilah into an area she did not immediately recognize. She deduced it was not the royal living quarters from the musky, stale odor that permeated the area, and she concluded she had been taken to the undercroft.
The men stopped and whispered amongst themselves. They pushed her up against a cold, stone wall, raised her hands above her head, and locked them in shackles. She tried to shout at them through the muzzle and sack, but they ignored her and left. In the distance she heard the drip-drip-drip of water and the sound of a door being shut and locked.
Delilah felt the tendons and ligaments in her arms stretching as she hung there. In time, first her shoulders ached and then her arms. Leaning back rested the top of her head against unyielding stone, and letting it hang forward stretched the muscles in her already aching neck. Her legs felt free, but when she tried to move them, she realized they were secured, too.
Despite twisting and turning, Delilah found no relief from her discomfort, and her muscle fatigue brought pain. Tears welled in her eyes, and even though she tried to remain calm, her breathing became quick and labored. What did I do? Did Volos work for the princess?
The sack over her head allowed no light to enter, and in the pitch black, she had no means of keeping track of time apart from the dripping water. She was aware of how dry her throat was, as well as her need to relieve herself, an urge brought to the forefront by the incessant drip-drip-drip.
Malediction (Scars of the Sundering Book 1) Page 29