The Wolf of Oren-yaro (Annals of the Bitch Queen Book 1)

by K. S. Villoso

  I honestly didn’t expect him to chase after me.

  By the time I heard his footsteps behind me, I was already committed. I went straight for the hall leading to the garden. I glanced behind and saw him gaining on me, although his face was red from the exertion. I took a deep breath and plunged through the bushes, making my way past the back trail of the palace and off a fork that led into the woods. Here, I thought, he wouldn’t follow. He was soft, raised in a temple—surely the woods would frighten him. I glanced up, welcoming the dappled shadows, interspersed with golden sunlight, the smell of trees, and the feel of forest litter under my sandaled feet. I had played in these woods with Agos for as long as I could remember and knew every twist and turn by heart.

  “You!” I heard him cry out.

  I stopped. It was the first time he had ever actually spoken to me since the tourney, as opposed to the practiced lines his advisers must’ve prepared for him. I turned on my heel, holding the book loosely in my fingers. “Oh?” I asked. “Did you want something?”

  He was panting. His face was very red now. “You’re a wild child,” he hissed. “Unfit to be queen.”

  “And you’re a pain in the neck,” I retorted.

  “Do you think this is a game?” he asked. “Sneaking out of the palace, pretending to be a commoner so you could get a rise out of me? This is what you were taught about ruling?”

  “Don’t lecture me about ruling,” I said. “What happened down at the tourney—no self-respecting prince would’ve acted that way.”

  “Pray, tell me. How should a prince have acted?”

  I laughed. “Shown mercy. Isn’t that what the Ikessars are known for?”

  “Rules…”

  “Exist, right. So let the tourney attendants see to that. You could’ve shown your generous spirit. Be the gallant prince, not some stern-faced official.” I saw his face tighten at my words, like he didn’t quite understand them.

  “You’re Oren-yaro,” he eventually blurted out. “Generous sounds like such an ironic word coming from you.”

  “This is how you’re trying to get to know me?” I asked. “By throwing my people’s name at my face?”

  “You did the exact same thing.”

  “I don’t say Ikessar like it’s an insult,” I replied. “I’m not a fool. I know what you all think of my father.”

  “You say Ikessar like it’s a standard, like I’m supposed to know better because of it,” he said. “Not all insults have to sound the same.” He held his hand out. “Give me my book.”

  “How about I throw it down the cliff?”

  “You’re not helping your case, princess. Give me my book, or I’ll march up to the council right now and demand they find me a better bride-to-be.”

  I laughed at his face. “You really don’t know anything. Do you think this is your land alone, that you could tell them to do anything just because you wanted it?”

  “I am the future Dragonlord,” he said.

  “An old title,” I reminded him. “A formality. You are the future king who will have a queen, who will also, incidentally, be Dragonlord. We are to have equal power, Beloved Prince. It was written out, one of the first demands my father made when he allowed this betrothal to take place.”

  “A frivolous demand,” Rayyel said. “Pointless. The scholars all agree.”

  “The scholars can kiss my behind. We could’ve won Jin-Sayeng,” I said in a low voice.

  “Your father gave in because he couldn’t win.”

  “He could’ve, given time. And he would’ve killed your mother, too, and you, only he didn’t.” I waved the book at him. “We are ruling jointly, Beloved Prince, whether you like it or not. But I’m glad I know what you really think. I’m glad all of this came to light. When I present the council with your treachery…”

  Rayyel snorted. “My personal thoughts can hardly count as treason,” he said. “Unless your plan is to sink us back into the rule of blood and sword. He gave me the stink-eye, so off with his head?”

  His tone of voice was becoming too much for me to handle. I turned around and pretended to throw the book into the bushes. He gave a sharp cry and rushed towards me, exactly how my dogs would react when I fool them into thinking I had a stick in my hand. I laughed. This is it. I’ve given up all that my father had worked for because I couldn’t be patient with a pimply faced boy.

  I felt Rayyel grab my shoulder and push me into the ground just as a roar blasted behind us.

  The surrounding air felt like the palace kitchens in the morning, hot and muggy from the wood stoves. I tried to shove Rayyel away from me and saw a dark, scaly form scurry past us. I saw a nearby branch burst into flame before wilting, and then I heard Rayyel screaming at me to get up. I was in too much shock to understand his words.

  He pulled me to the side a second time. A lick of flame surged from the creature towards us, knocking a small tree to the ground. Only then did my head clear up enough for me to form coherent thoughts.

  We were being attacked by a dragon.

  It was, I would later learn, a juvenile, a creature the size of a horse. But it was enough that it could breathe fire and wanted to kill you. Confronted with the beast back then, I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to run, but the creature was standing in the middle of the only trail that led back to the palace. The woods behind us led to the cliff.

  I felt Rayyel cough. “I’ve got my ceremonial sword with me,” he said in a low voice. I wondered how he could be so calm. “I’ll distract it. You make a run for it.”

  “Don’t be stupid. A ceremonial sword will break,” I said.

  “I don’t intend to fight it. Only distract it long enough for you to get away.”

  “And then what?” I hissed. “You’ll burn to a crisp before you get close! Then it’ll chase after me and we’ll both be dead, anyway!”

  I could see a bead of sweat make its way down his face. He really hadn’t thought it through himself. I turned back to the creature. It was shuffling around in a half-circle, snake-like eyes bearing down on us. I could see fire bubbling in its mouth, small tendrils of flame licking past its sharp, white teeth.

  “It’s making more fire,” I said, glancing at its distended belly, which contrasted with its long body and whipped tail. It didn’t seem to like me looking at it and draped its wings over itself. Thick, red veins throbbed through the blue membrane, which faintly glowed. Its eyes were golden orbs with thin, black slits that never left us. I recognized the look of an animal trying to make itself seem bigger than it really is and realized the creature was just as frightened of us as we were of it.

  But that didn’t reassure me any; it didn’t make the dragon any less dangerous. I could feel a pit in my stomach. If we tried to run past it before it could finish growing its fire, it could just throw us to the ground and open us up with its teeth. I had not known what helplessness felt like until that moment. Rayyel must’ve felt the same way, because I felt him reach for my hand. His palm was wet and cold.

  We would’ve both died, two fool children who thought they knew more than they did. Heirs of the Dragonthrone, killed by a dragon, our tombs would say. The history books would laugh. Our ancestors once rode those same dragons, those trustworthy and intelligent beasts that made Jin-Sayeng’s name in the world, until they eventually died out. Prince Rysaran was the one responsible for bringing the first grown dragon back, but it was a vile, crazed creature he couldn’t control. That dragon destroyed parts of Shirrokaru and the old palace of Oren-yaro, and killed many people, including my own brothers, Yeshin’s grown sons.

  It was said that these new dragons were offspring of that old one, which flew away and was never seen again. Unlike the dragons from the stories, these were weak-minded, untameable. I didn’t believe it then. But facing that creature, seeing my own death in its eyes, I suddenly could.

  The dragon jerked its head back. A man appeared on the trail, pike in hand. The dragon whirled, its tail whipping around as it lunged for him. The
man shoved the handle of his pike into the creature’s open maw.

  Fire curled around the wood, but the man didn’t seem to care. He pushed back against the dragon. Almost at the same time, he pulled out a small sword from his belt and with a grunt, stuck it between the pebbled skin under the creature’s neck. Steaming blood hissed from the wound. The creature clamped down on the pike, its body contorting. The man dropped the pike and stepped back as the dragon curled around it in its dying throes.

  He looked up towards us. His face was streaked with sweat and soot, and his short, curly black hair was damp. He was built like a warrior—not a young man, but not too old, either. “Are you children all right?” he asked.

  Rayyel dropped my hand. I swallowed. “We’re unhurt,” Rayyel said, stepping out of the woods. “We’re not…”

  The man’s face flickered at the sight of us. His face dimpled, even as he frowned. “You’re Prince Rayyel and Princess Talyien,” he said. “Out for a walk without your guards? You could’ve been killed.”

  “We don’t usually get dragons here,” I said, trying to sound calmer than I felt.

  “No, I understand that part,” he said. He flexed his fingers, still staring at us. It was disconcerting. People usually bow when they see me, falling flat on their faces in their quest to throw flatteries my way. Rayyel, I have no doubt, has probably had the same experience. But this man had barely even tipped his head in our direction. I could probably understand if he was a Kag, but he looked Jinsein. Perhaps he had grown up there; his Jinan had a tinge of foreign accent to it.

  “Is there a problem?” I asked.

  He closed his mouth. “You shouldn’t be out without guards,” he said. “It’s not just the dragons. Anyone with an interest in the Dragonthrone could try to hurt you. Anyone.”

  “They wouldn’t dare,” I breathed.

  The man’s eyes narrowed. “Heir to the Dragonthrone. Child. I’m going to speak slowly so that you can understand. Not everyone celebrated the day your parents laid down their arms and agreed on your betrothal. There were talks, dark thoughts in the shadows. Pacts made to edge Jin-Sayeng closer to a more desirable peace.”

  He looked at the still-writhing corpse of the dragon nearby. “That one is a mere mindless beast. I’ve been tracking it from the west for weeks. I don’t know what drove it to travel all this way, but it was exhausted. I’ve never made an easier kill. But had I arrived a moment later, you would both be dead. How much closer, do you think, will someone with a mind to kill you get?” He spat to the side. “I’ll walk you back to the palace.”

  He didn’t say much else on the way. He took us straight to the gardens and stopped once we had a clear sight of the door. Remembering my courtesies, I wiped dirt from my lip and bowed towards him. “We are grateful for our lives,” I said. “If we may know to whom we owe them to…” I deliberately trailed off so he could pick it up from there.

  The man’s jaw tightened, like he was thinking it over. “Dai,” he eventually said. “I am Dai alon gar Kaggawa.”

  “A merchant?” Rayyel asked. “What are you doing in the palace?”

  I elbowed Rayyel. “Kaggawa,” I repeated. “We owe peace to the work of two Kaggawas. Merchant castes, too. Are you related?”

  “My grandfather and my father’s sister,” he murmured. “If you would call it peace. But with all this bickering…” He shook his head.

  “You speak of shadows who want us dead,” Rayyel said. “Would you know of these fools, that they may be brought to justice?”

  Dai shook his head. “I cannot say. I will not say. I will not plunge this land into chaos so soon after the last.” He placed his hand on his sword. “Remember my warning. And when you are crowned, do not forget about the west. Our lands in the Sougen are plagued by these beasts. If we are overrun, what you just saw this morning will become your entire life.” He spat again before walking back to the forest.

  I watched his figure disappear and heard Rayyel draw a deep breath. “Should we have him arrested?”

  I looked at him, aghast. “He just saved our life.”

  “And threatened us while offering no courtesies whatsoever.” He sighed. “I will let it be. It’s been a long morning. Do you have my book?”

  I had forgotten all about it. I looked down, realizing it was still in my hand. After a moment, I handed it to him. He wiped the cover before tucking it under his arm. He turned to me, a thoughtful look on his face. “You’re brave,” he said, after a moment. It sounded like he was talking to himself.

  I swallowed. “As are you, my lord.”

  His eyebrows knotted. “He is right, you know. It will not be the last time we will face danger together.”

  I realized he was serious. I thought about Dai Kaggawa’s words and nodded. “It’s not like we can abdicate,” I said, trying to keep my voice light.

  “No.” He patted my shoulder once before leaving me in the hall.

  Chapter Seven

  Dark Thoughts in the Shadows

  I was no longer a child that night in Anzhao City. By then, I had known Rayyel for sixteen years, and it occurred to me, as he turned to walk back to the restaurant—unable to respond to my questions, unsure of what to say—that he was probably just doing what he thought was best for Jin-Sayeng. It was one of the few things about him that I was sure of.

  The thought proved to be more chilling than comforting. If all of these were Rayyel’s doing because of some inconvenient ambition that has flared up over the last few years, then all well and good—I could steer him in the right direction. But this man was the same stern-faced, unassuming boy I had known for most of my life. The man who would debate the finer points of harvesting wheat and the significance of it to the economy over a bottle of wine was, in my eyes, incapable of making these demands for his own gain.

  Someone, somewhere, was behind all of this.

  I followed him back inside. By now, the main restaurant was empty, and the staff was busy at work carrying plates of uneaten food back to the kitchen and scrubbing down tables. They didn’t look at us—they must’ve been instructed not to. “It’s very late,” I told Rayyel. “I think I’ll drop dead if we stretch this out another hour. Let us go back to our lodgings and meet again tomorrow. I will not sign half of the land over on a whim, but I promise I will entertain another meeting, at least. We have to—I will not let you slink off into the night again. Rai—”

  He paused by the stairs. I could see him wrestling with something. I followed him up the steps and carefully reached up to place my hand on his shoulder. At my touch, he flinched.

  “I will honour your request,” he murmured.

  His words were promising, and the queen, the politician in me, should’ve been happy with the small victory. But they were not words his wife wanted to hear. I pulled away and watched him stalk into the room. I sucked my breath in before I joined him.

  All three of our advisers nodded as we entered. “If we can proceed…” Zheshan began. Rai bent over to him, whispering something in his ear. I observed a frown appear on Zheshan’s face.

  “Are you sure?” the governor asked.

  “It is very late,” I broke in. “You can hardly expect me to agree to such terms when I am not in the best state of mind. There is still the matter of the warlords. Just because I promised my consideration doesn’t mean a damn thing in the long run.”

  “You are the queen,” Zheshan said. “What you say ought to be final. If our emperor told us to jump from the cliff, why…”

  “You really don’t understand Jin-Sayeng at all, do you?” I asked. I wasn’t even pretending to be polite anymore.

  “On this, she is correct, Governor,” Rai said. “Let the queen sleep on our terms.” Our terms, I noted. I shook my head.

  I turned to Arro, who seemed like he was about to keel over where he was sitting. His eyes were drooping. “We will set up another meeting, Magister,” I said. “Come. You look tired.” I touched his arm.

  Arro coughed, white spittl
e flying from his mouth. I watched in horror as he fell from his chair, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. On the ground, the spittle turned to blood.

  My head swam. I could see Rai walking towards us, and I started to wonder if there was something in the food and if he was going to get sick, too. And then I saw the red-tipped dart sticking out of Arro’s neck and my eyes automatically shifted to the window, which was open. It hadn’t been, earlier. There was a man in black, standing in the shadowed corner.

  I screamed, throwing the chair at him. The man flung his arm out to protect himself. The chair clattered to the floor. He drew two daggers and came for me.

  From the other end of the room, I heard another scream. I didn’t look—I couldn’t. The assassin wasn’t showing signs of stopping and I had no sword to defend myself with, only the wretched dagger, one against his two. I would be doomed in a straight fight. Why didn’t I have a sword? Arro had thought it was inappropriate, unbecoming of a queen in foreign lands. They have laws in Anzhao City, he said. Ah, Arro, my poor tutor, the man who had been with me longer than my own father and husband combined. Arro was dead, now. My mind didn’t know what to focus on.

  I threw another chair at the assassin. This one caught him in the hip and he fell with a groan. From the corner of my eye, I saw the priestess on the ground and Rai wrestling with a second man. I couldn’t help him, but I could take myself out of danger and call for help. I went past the assassin, who reached out with his dagger and struck me deep in the leg.

  I ignored the pain and vaulted out of the window.

  I had not escaped through windows since I was a child, but somehow, I managed to make my way down. I felt hot blood gathering in my heel, but I didn’t have time to check it and only hoped that the blade the assassin used wasn’t poisoned. I called out for Nor and the rest of my guards as I tried to open the main doors. They were locked.

  I heard the window above click. I ran back out into the street, into the rain. My guards were nowhere in sight.