Sebastian stood, raising both arms. Lanier's expression turned to one of surprise.
Sebastian's gaze swept the crowd, sliding over Cedric, who stood against the railings to his right, his gaze hard as he stared out across the soldiers and knights.
The crowd quieted. “My people, this is the army that has been headed under my good general, Lanier, for many years now. He has served me faithfully and well.”
Lanier glanced around him before raising his face to Sebastian's. Sebastian could read the questions in his general's brown eyes.
“Now we find our nation in a crisis of impending war. Though Nicholas Erlane has sent his niece to be my bride in good faith, he has proved treacherous on the terms of our peace treaty.”
Lianna released a small cry behind him.
Sebastian ignored her. “He marches even now to the borders of Lismaria to cross the Channel of Lise, intent on declaring war.”
A swelling murmur rose through the ranks and stands. Sebastian smiled grimly. Thus far, all was working according to plan.
“And meet him in war, we will, my people!” Sebastian shouted. “To overcome his particular strengths, however, I have need of a skill which is lacking in my good general. After much thought and painful reflection, and at the good counsel of my Dragon-Master, I have decided to appoint Cedric as the Commander-in-Chief of my armies.” He waved toward the boy.
The place erupted in chaos. Lanier sat stricken and white on his horse, but his men gestured angrily around him.
Dark fury burned in Cedric's eyes. Sebastian stared back without flinching. He counted in his head, waiting for the tide to shift ... and it did.
Gradually, the shouting subsided, but the hostility remained. This time, however, it was directed at Cedric. The dark looks that shot toward the boy were vitriolic.
Sebastian waited until the expressions were the most hate-filled, and then he raised his arms once more.
“Shall we finish the Tournament ceremonies? Let us continue!”
Somehow in all the confusion, Lanier pulled his helmet back on his head and sent his horse into a gallop. The rest of the formation did as they were supposed to do, circling and spiraling throughout the field, showing off their practiced performance.
Sebastian hid a smile and took his seat, his hand covering Lianna's cold one. “It's a wonderful turn-out, don't you think?”
Her pale face turned toward him. “I will not wed you, Your Grace.”
He slid his fingers through hers and picked up her hand, rubbing it gently against the coarseness of his beard.
“Aye, but you will, my lady. Nicholas Erlane has no way to bring you home, you see, and you are entirely in my power.”
Her face blanched further, and Sebastian turned to watch the ceremonies, his thoughts far from the soldiers in all their glorious battle raiment.
Chapter Twenty-One
Kinna
Kinna threw the last of the meat to Chennuh, watching the Dragon snap it up in his razor sharp teeth. He shook the meat and savaged it like a huge, playful hound before curling up on the canyon floor to enjoy it.
Lincoln swung off the bottom ledge, walking toward Kinna, his eyes never leaving Chennuh. “Ayden's ready to go. He asked me to come make sure you and Chennuh were, too, but I think he just wanted to give the beast some extra meat for the journey, and I hear the Dragons are partial to Pixies...”
Kinna laughed. “He won't eat you for dinner, Lincoln.”
Chennuh swallowed a hunk of meat and released a massive belch. Thick flames shot across the ground, nearly colliding with Kinna and Lincoln where they stood. They both stumbled back, and Lincoln waved to disperse the odor. “See? He hates me, that one.”
“Well, he'll have to get used to you. All three of us are going to have to ride him to get out of here.”
“About that. Can't we just walk it back to The Crossings?”
Kinna motioned to the canyon walls that rose ledge by ledge high above them. “Does that look like an easy stroll to you? It'd take the four of us a week to get out of the Ridges of Rue.”
“Seems reasonable. I'd rather take a week to leave the Rues than to fly and fall off the back of a Dragon you can hardly see.” Lincoln glanced uncertainly at Chennuh, who now chomped the last few bones of the cow. The Dragon looked like a clear mirage, like waves of heat that glistened off a hot surface on a summer day. His outlines were indistinct, but Kinna was used to studying him, and she felt like she could see him as well as if he were dark-scaled all over.
“We don't have the time, Lincoln. Ayden wants to get Chennuh to The Crossings for the Tournament, and it’s starting now.”
“We should have left earlier then.”
“We couldn't. Chennuh's wing wasn't ready yet. Even now, I'm worried about it.”
Lincoln shook his head and ambled away, his mutters trailing behind him. “Worrying about a silly Dragon whose greatest talent is a smelly belch...”
Kinna grinned as she watched him go. Turning, she slid her hands along Chennuh's smooth scales as she ran lightly up to his back.
Over the winter Ayden had filched several strong ropes from outbuildings in the Griffon Pass. Those ropes now criss-crossed the Dragon's torso, holding three makeshift saddles in place.
Saddles. Kinna snorted. They were neatly folded squares, tattered remains of what Ayden had brought south. They had wedged them in between Chennuh's spiked, mirrored fins that ran along the top of his neck and stood up from his spine, trailing all the way down the length of his tail.
Lincoln had protested the idea of riding Chennuh so much that Ayden had threatened to stick the Pixie's saddle on top of one of the sharp spikes and let him see how comfortable that was. Lincoln had relapsed into sulking silence.
Kinna adjusted the ropes and double-checked the straps.
“Kinna, catch.”
Kinna turned at the sound of Ayden's voice and snatched Render's saddle bag when he tossed it to her.
She smiled down at him. His hair glistened in the sun; his silver eyes glinted as he curled the whip around his shoulder and walked around to Chennuh's snout. He pulled off his glove with his teeth and rubbed his hand gently along the scales.
Kinna watched the scales darken beneath his touch. “Why do you do that?”
Ayden shrugged. “It seems to strengthen the scales. Don't know why. They regenerate faster.” He continued tracing his touch all along Chennuh's neck, concentrating especially on the scales beneath the straps where the friction could possibly tear off some of the protective plates.
Finally, he pulled his glove back on and bundled his cloak snugly around his neck and shoulders.
Kinna laughed at his efforts. “Are you afraid you'll get cold? 'Tis spring, oh frigid one.”
A self-deprecating grin flashed across his face. “Just wanted to make sure I was thoroughly covered, you know, in case...” His smile faded. It wasn't often that he laughed or smiled, but when he did, she felt as if the sun blanketed the sky, even though the clouds were thickening again.
“Where's Lincoln?” Ayden asked as he leaped up Chennuh's foreleg.
“Avoiding the inevitable.” Kinna pointed. The Pixie had made himself comfortable on the top ledge, looking in no hurry to leave it. Kinna raised her arm and waved. “Come on, we're ready!” she shouted.
Slowly, Lincoln got to his feet and began the long journey to the bottom of the canyon.
“I thought Pixies were known for their speed,” Ayden grumbled beneath his breath.
“They're also known for their stubbornness.” Kinna settled onto the first saddle. “Believe me, I know. I couldn't even get my Pixie to meet me halfway.”
“Pixiedimn are unbelievably stubborn, too,” Ayden said as he settled into the second seat.
“Why? Just because I insisted on guiding Chennuh through the skies?”
“You don't even know where we're going.”
“No. That dubious honor belongs to Lincoln, and you know he'd ne
ver fly Chennuh.”
“True, but that doesn't mean that I couldn't.”
“Ayden, we both know Chennuh listens to me better than he does to you. Anyway, I don't want to have this argument again. I'm flying Chennuh, and there's an end to it.”
Ayden tugged on the ropes that held his saddle in place, and Kinna heard a whisper that sounded suspiciously like stubborn wench.
She turned to snap at Ayden, but found him glancing sideways at her from the corner of his eye, his mouth hiding a smile.
The angry retort died on her lips, and she pivoted to face backward.
“Kinna,” Ayden tapped the fin before him, “front's that way.” He pointed behind her.
She ignored the words. “Ayden, what will happen if this woman … can ... you know...”
His silver eyes immediately shadowed. “Can rid me of this curse?”
“Aye.”
He turned his gaze from her and shrugged. “I cannot count on it, Kinna. If I let myself believe that I could be free of this, and if she's unable to help me...”
Kinna pulled his gloved hand into her own, tugging on it until he leaned forward. She only released the tension when their faces were an orlach apart.
“Then I will believe it for you.”
He stared at her, his gaze deepening as the silence stretched. He opened his mouth, seemed to search for words, but after a moment, gave up. He pulled his hand free and sat back, his gloves balling into fists as he crossed them over his chest.
“Thank you, Kinna.” His voice was rough as rust.
Kinna's throat constricted painfully. For a brief second she'd seen beneath his carefully constructed mask; the pain that wrapped his heart was brittle as glass, ready to shatter that organ at any moment.
Lincoln's voice interrupted them as he edged up Chennuh's foreleg. “Seriously, you two, keep it down for the trip, because I'm going to have a hard enough time not getting sick on the back of a Dragon without you both mooning over each other the whole way.”
Kinna flushed and turned around, pulling the ropes up into her lap. “Okay, Chennuh, we're ready to go whenever you are.” She reached down and patted the heated scales. “Let's sail through the skies.”
* * *
The Ridges of Rue spread far below them, and Chennuh's powerful wings beat the air as the Dragon rose to heights far above where they had ridden before. Ecstasy took hold of him, and he hurtled into a cloud bank, dipping below it into a steep drop, and then pulled himself through it into another lengthy climb.
Kinna loved every minute of it. The wind whipped through her hair, undoing the braid she had put in that morning. It trailed out behind her, and a glance back showed it flapping in Ayden's face.
Embarrassed, she yanked it back. Clamping her knees tighter around the Dragon, she twisted the unruly hair around her neck in a fiery scarf before she took hold of Chennuh's ropes again.
They had just come out of another dive when Ayden's glove grasped her shoulder. “Slow up a minute. Lincoln's going to be sick.”
Sure enough, when Kinna glanced back, the Pixie clung weakly to the spiked fin in front of him, his face a shade of puce.
Kinna leaned forward, speaking soothingly to Chennuh. She wasn't at all sure the Dragon would listen to her, or even understand what she wanted, but as soon as she pulled back on the ropes, Chennuh spread his wings in a gentle glide, and the climbing and diving ceased.
They flew for the majority of the afternoon. The high ranges melted gradually into woodlands. By early evening, Lincoln made motions for them to land.
“Down there,” he yelled. The poor Pixie had lost his lunch somewhere back in the mountains, and now his face was pale and sallow.
Kinna spoke to Chennuh, and the Dragon banked into a loose circle, slowly easing closer to land. Trees still blanketed the landscape, but there were large clearings here and there, and Chennuh aimed for one that had a narrow river winding through it.
He landed with a heavy jolt and furled his wings to his sides. Ayden immediately took off his glove and ran his hand along the area where the wings attached. Kinna craned her neck to see Lincoln.
“Are you okay, Lincoln?”
With a groan, the Pixie pitched sideways, slipping off the Dragon's back and flopping onto the clearing floor like a rag doll. He lay on his back, his eyes closed. “Do me a favor, Kinna.”
She lightly leaped the distance to the ground and hurried over to the Pixie. “Anything, Lincoln. What can I do?” She touched his pale face, his arm, worry spiking in her.
“You know that knife Ayden has?” His eyes were shut, the normal quirk in his mouth gone.
“Yes?” Kinna glanced over her shoulder at Ayden as he finished his treatment of Chennuh's wings.
“Take it and plunge it into the center of my chest cavity, if you please. I think it will help me feel better than I do at the moment.”
Kinna's mouth tightened and she nudged the Pixie with her foot. “There's nothing wrong with you that a little water and firm ground won't fix.”
Lincoln groaned, rolled onto his side, worked his way to his feet, and staggered toward the river, muttering something about water.
Kinna glanced around before turning her attention to Ayden. “So do you think he'd had enough flying and needed a break, or is this really where he was headed?”
Ayden looked beyond Kinna. She turned to see what held his attention.
“Must be where he was headed,” Ayden mumbled.
Kinna heard the uncertainty and terror in his words.
On the far side of the river, among the hemlocks, a woman sat in a rocker, a shawl draped across her shoulders. A spinning wheel sat in front of her, and from a basket beside her, she fed wool onto the wheel, watching the spindle as the wheel spun a fine thread onto it.
It was such an odd setting for the sight that Kinna blinked several times before she finally decided that the image was real.
“Is that...”
“I don't know.”
Lincoln glanced up from where he'd been kneeling over the river water, spattering the cool liquid against his skin. When he saw the woman, he gave a loud crow and splashed through the water toward her. “Helga!” He trailed out of the water, his arms outstretched, a grin on his face, and wrapped woman, thread, and rocking chair all into an exuberant embrace.
Kinna stared in astonishment. Ayden's mouth hung open. At another shout from the Pixie, she and Ayden started forward, Chennuh trailing behind.
Kinna raised her gown to cross the water, suddenly abashed at her appearance. A winter's worth of wear on the gown embarrassed her. She'd had to do what she could to hold the seams together over the months, but the edges were definitely frayed. She still had her breeches and tunic, but with the rip in the leg, she'd had to rely on the gown almost entirely. Now it was in nearly as bad of shape as the leggings. A tear had worked its way halfway up her calf, prompting lots of jokes from Lincoln about the scandalous woman with whom he had to share a roost. On the other hand, she'd caught several appreciative but discreet glances from Ayden when he thought she wasn't watching.
She tried to rearrange the gown as she stepped out of the water on the other side of the creek. The woman stood, her kind smile warming Kinna's heart.
Kinna couldn't help but stare. Lincoln had spoken about a taibas, and Kinna had imagined an old crone with black gaps in a crooked ridge of yellow teeth, abundant wrinkles amid bedraggled white hair, a hump on her back, and long talons used to stir her magic potions.
This woman's pink hair was tinged with silver. It was pulled back into a neat bun around her plump, jolly face. Her fingernails were well-kept and trimmed on the ends of hands that looked as if they were accustomed to labor. Her gown was wrinkled beneath the apron that covered the entire front of it, and the woman wiped her hands on the apron before curtseying with a little bounce before Kinna and Ayden.
“I'm so pleased to make your acquaintance,” she said, smiling, her voi
ce light and breathy. “Though if I would have known I'd be entertaining visitors this evening, I would have put better fare on the table for our supper. I knew you were coming, of course, but didn't know until only moments ago that it would be tonight.”
Kinna's eyes widened, but Lincoln shattered her questions with a mundane one of his own. “Do you need extra, Helga?” he asked. “I can add some fish to the meal.”
“Aye, why don't you do that, Lincoln? I'll take these guests back to the cottage.” She motioned behind her, and for the first time, Kinna caught sight of a charming stone cottage nearly hidden behind the sweeping hemlock branches that fingered the woods.
“We do thank you.” Kinna smiled. “And I'll help you carry—” She stopped short and glanced behind the woman, confused. The spinning wheel, basket and rocking chair had disappeared. “Oh.”
“No need, dear, they're in their proper place.” Helga turned toward the cottage. “Shall we?”
“Thank you,” Kinna repeated. She glanced at Ayden. He was still staring at the woman, and when she took the first few steps for the cottage, he hung back.
“Ayden?” Kinna asked. “Are you coming?”
Helga turned. “Aye, my lad, have no fear. I don't normally cook Dragondimn for my dinner.”
“Dragons,” Ayden murmured. “I should stay out here with Chennuh. He'll need sustenance after flying all day.”
“Oh no, dear, he's fine.” She motioned over his shoulder where they had left the Dragon on the other side of the river.
Chennuh was curled up in a shimmering ball, snoring. The remains of some large animal lay on the ground beside him.
A chill ran up Kinna's spine, exploding into a million fireworks at the base of her neck. Something about this plump, pleasant woman awed her and terrified her.
Helga was walking again toward the cottage, and finally Kinna took a shaky step after her. Ayden's glove on her sleeve stopped her. In a whisper, he said, “Stay here, Kinna.”
“What? No.”
“I mean it. I need to talk to this woman alone.”
“Ayden, we only have Lincoln's word—”
Kindle the Flame (Heart of a Dragon Book 1) Page 23