Dragon Blood h-2

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Dragon Blood h-2 Page 26

by Patricia Briggs


  "I need to talk to you," I said to him.

  Oreg found a seat on the raised root of a walnut tree. I crouched in front of him.

  "Jakoven probably has his wizards with him," I said. "He has Farsonsbane and he is something of a wizard himself. I don't know how good he is, but Jade Eyes and Arten are both very strong—if ignorant by your standards."

  "You want me to take on the wizards while you attack the Bane," he said neutrally.

  "There is some connection between the Bane and me," I said. And I worried that if it was I who confronted Jade Eyes, my fear of him would defeat my desire for his death.

  He nodded his head. "Have you considered that the connection goes both ways? It might make you an easier victim."

  "Yes," I said. "What do you think?"

  "You said that you felt it recognized you?"

  I nodded my head. "It felt a little like the magic of Hurog but more intelligent. I think it's like the memories of Menogue—still tied to the remembrance of being dragons. I made it curious."

  Oreg rubbed his hands together as if they were cold. "Did it feel like one creature or three?"

  I closed my eyes, trying to remember. "There was a … texture to it, yes. Not really separate, more like a rug where several strands of yarn are bound together."

  "So after your blood touched it, it recognized you," he murmured.

  "No," I shook my head. "Before. It's hard to explain. I don't think the Bane was ever completely dormant—just powerless. As soon as Jakoven took it out of the bag he'd enspelled to hide the Bane, I could see blackness flowing from it, though neither Jakoven nor Jade Eyes seemed to see it. When the black power touched me, it knew me—or maybe it knew Hurog's magic."

  "Did it feel evil?"

  I shook my head. "No more than Menogue or Hurog."

  "And after he used your blood?"

  I tried to remember how it had felt. "The stone turned blue, and I felt a wild surge of magic." I remembered something else. "I think it was connected somehow to Jakoven—the stone's blue magic. But the blackness was a separate thing."

  "We'll play it the way you want to, if we can," said Oreg finally. "I'll try to stop Jakoven's wizards and leave the Bane to you."

  I gave up crouching and sat on another root. It was wet, but not very muddy. "I wondered if the spell binding the dragon's magic to the stone might not be similar to the one your father used to bind you to the keep."

  Oreg nodded. "Probably."

  "When I broke the spell that held you to Hurog," I said, with a flash of visceral memory of my knife sinking into Oreg's side, "I felt the weave of the magic binding. I might be able to unbind it."

  "That might not be what you ought to do," said Oreg after a moment. "It's not just magic that is bound to the stone, but the spirits of three dragons who are not very happy with the human race right now. Farson tried to use the Bane the way other wizards used a rowan staff—but the only magic he could work with the Bane was destructive, and that was when the spell was new."

  "What do you suggest?" I asked.

  He shook his head. "I've never gotten as close to the Bane as you have. You'll have to play it as it comes. Just be careful."

  We ate the stew Axiel had created with dried meat and bits of this and that. Flavored by hunger and cold, it tasted better than it was. Tisala and Garranon between them had decided that Jakoven was headed for the less well-known pass.

  "I wouldn't have thought that a Tallven would even have heard of the pass, but Garranon tells me that Jakoven knows geography," said Tisala before she blew on the stew steaming on the small chunk of dry bread.

  Garranon nodded. "He's smarter than he lets on. There'll still be merchants traveling the greater pass to Estian. He won't want to meet anyone. The only people who use the other pass are hunters and bandits. With the Bane and his wizards he has little to fear from bandits, and the hunters on this pass are a wary bunch. They'd never approach a party of strangers."

  "I know a path that bypasses most of the swamp that Jakoven seems to be traveling through," said Tisala. "If he's where Ward says he is now, we'll beat him to the pass and wait there."

  Tosten had brought his harp, and he played it by the dying fire. We joined in the songs we knew, and he surprised Axiel with a mournful tune sung in the dwarven tongue. Axiel sang the chorus with him and added a verse or two.

  "I didn't know you understood Dwarven, Tosten," Axiel said when they'd finished.

  Tosten shook his head. "I don't. But your cousin several times removed taught me that one when your folks came to help rebuild the keep. Here's something a little less sad." His fingers plucked a rapid, catchy rift and he sang another of his "Shavig Giant" songs—a little more polished than the last time I'd heard it.

  When he was finished, I banked the fire while Oreg checked on the horses. Tisala ducked into the smaller tent while Axiel and Garranon disappeared into the larger one.

  Tosten laced his harp case and looked thoughtfully at my face. "Oreg told me Tisala accepted your proposal."

  I nodded.

  "Ward, our chances of getting out of this aren't good, are they?"

  I stopped what I was doing. "No," I said.

  He finished lacing his harp. "We decided—Oreg, Garranon, Axiel, and I—that there was only room for four in the big tent." He stood up and glanced at the smaller tent, set apart from the others. "And even that will be crowded. Since you're the biggest of us, we decided you'll have to share with Tisala."

  I gave him a slow smile, which he returned briefly. Then his face became serious and he put his hand on my shoulder, "Ward—" he began, before coming to an uncertain halt, unable to say the words. So he said something else. "Ward, I'm glad you are my brother."

  "Me, too," I said. Then after he ducked into the larger tent, I said the words I was too much my father's son to say to his face. "I love you, too, Tosten."

  "He knows," said Oreg, coming out of the darkness where the horses were making quiet horse-noises. He tossed me my bedroll, which I'd left with my saddle, and took the camp shovel from me and finished banking the fire.

  Wordlessly, awkwardly, I rested my hand on his shoulder.

  Oreg set the shovel aside and patted my hand. "I know, too."

  He left me alone by the banked fire. I looked for Jakoven and found him in the same place he'd been for the last few hours, camped far enough from us that there was no chance he'd smell our campfire.

  I stuck my head into Tisala's tent, my bedroll under my arm.

  "They told me there was no room for me in the other tent," I said diffidently.

  "Come in, Ward," she said.

  In the golden glow of my magelight, I pulled my boots off and set them just inside the tent next to hers. She waited until I had finished and was setting my bedroll beside her blankets before she pulled off her wool tunic to reveal only a thin silk undershirt. I saw a glint of pink shiny skin along her triceps where a sword had nicked her. She didn't look at me when she untied her trousers and folded them for tomorrow. Like a boy, she wore silk shorts under the trousers, but like her top, it was thin and revealed the flesh beneath.

  "I can keep my clothes on," I said in a hoarse whisper. "We can sleep together for warmth."

  She turned to me then, blushing hard enough that even in the dim glow I could see it. "Is that what you want?"

  No! Absolutely not, I thought.

  "I will not use this to push you into something you don't want," I said, instead.

  "That's not what I asked," she observed. She gripped the bottom of her shirt, and pulled it over her head. I still might have resisted, but the hands that still held her shirt while she sat half naked before me were white-knuckled and shaking.

  I closed the distance between us and pulled her head against my shoulder. "Before we begin," I said into the pale softness of her ear, "I need to know if you've done this before." I remembered the bruises the king's torturer had left on her thighs and hoped she'd had a dozen lovers before him.

  She
nodded against me and whispered, "Once, and I swore I'd not do it again. I never thought it worth repeating until now."

  She obviously didn't know I was aware of that rape. Her wry tone was meant to kept me from feeling sorry for her, and gloss over the incident. I understood the impulse. I ran a hand over her bare back and up under her hair, feeling her tremble as my fingers closed on the back of her neck,

  "Ah," I said. "The main thing to remember is that making love is at once the silliest and the most sacred act humans can perform. There is no wrong between us, Tisala, only things that feel good and things that don't. If you like something or if you don't, you have to tell me. Please, it's very important for you to tell me, especially if something hurts."

  "All right," she said tightly.

  I left her and arranged our blankets as best I could. Nerves had robbed me of much of my passion. I wished I had something better than a bed of coarse blankets over marshy soil.

  The first time was full of shy caresses and urgent needs. It was somewhat painful for her still, I thought, though she didn't tell me except with a few involuntary twitches of muscle in her face. The second time was better.

  I held Tisala while she slept, and listened to Oreg take watch from Garranon. I'd called for three watches with two sentries a watch, but no one tried to wake either of us. I closed my eyes and savored her warmth against me.

  Tisala listened to his quiet breathing, and held very still so she wouldn't wake him.

  He thought her a warrior, brave and … She wondered if he knew just how frightened she had been. He hadn't said anything, but his hands had been very careful as he replaced the nightmarish memories with his caress.

  It amazed her how different the sensations of the same touches performed by different men were, what a delicate touch his big hands had, causing pleasure rather than violation.

  One of those hands tightened about her and shifted her closer. It might have been a more comfortable position for her sleeping lover, but now her neck bent at an awkward angle.

  She smiled as she wiggled until she was in her former position. Let him sleep this night, but if this would be the only night she had with him, she intended to stay awake for the whole of it.

  A large arm slid from its resting place under her waist until it was under her hip and heaved, leaving her, somewhat surprised, on top of him. He examined her with sleepy eyes.

  "Still awake, eh?" he asked, his voice low with sleep and other, more private things. "Can't have that."

  When he was finished with her, she fell asleep before she could remind herself to stay awake.

  16—WARDWICK

  It is one of those lessons that every child should learn: Don't play with fire, sharp objects, or ancient artifacts.

  We rose before the winter sun, eating and packing until it grew light enough to see our way. It had stopped raining, but everything around us was still wet. The trail Tisala led us on was little more than a deer trail, and I on my tall horses suffered the most from the undergrowth and low, wet branches. Consulting maps and the results of my frequent seeking for the Bane proved we'd chosen our way correctly: Jakoven was definitely headed toward the secondary pass.

  We arrived at the base of the climb shortly before the evening sun went down. We back-trailed a few hundred yards and found a flat area to camp. Jakoven had stopped moving about six miles away, and we assumed that he was camping there.

  "Oreg," I said as I helped him set up the tents. "When you followed me to Estian, Jade Eyes felt you—he thought it was me. Is there something you can do so he won't know you're here?"

  "How's this?" he asked, and the comforting feeling of his magic disappeared.

  I took a deep breath. I hadn't realized how much I counted on the feeling of Oreg's magic to bandage the hole that leaving Hurog tore in my spirit. When I put some power behind my search, though, I could feel him faintly.

  "That's better," I said. "Do I need to do something of the same thing?"

  Oreg shook his head. "You're always shielded. Your problem has always been that nothing much gets through your shields. That's why you couldn't work magic for such a long time."

  "If you really want to take them by surprise," said Axiel, "we ought to confront them now. We can tether the horses here and walk upon Jakoven's camp while they're sleeping."

  "Let's go," I agreed. A part of me hoped for one more night, but Axiel was right. If we could take them by surprise, we had a chance. If they knew we were coming, we were dead.

  We tethered the horses in the trail where someone would find them if we didn't make it back. We took off our mail and anything else that would clatter, and darkened our faces with the readily available mud before starting out in the darkness.

  Travel by stealth at night is slow. By the time we smelled their campfire, it was already second watch. I sent Axiel, with his dwarven eyesight, out to scout the camp and hunkered down with the others under the shelter of a small fir tree.

  Something cold and wet touched my forearm. I glanced down and saw it was Tisala's hand. I tucked it against my side, warming it.

  Axiel came back too soon with a report. "I make out twelve of them," he said. "At least there's a dozen horses with riding saddles. There are four tents that could hold as many as five men each. He's got three people on watch, two armsmen dressed in the colors of Jakoven's own guard and someone in dark clothing who stinks of foul magic."

  "Can you tell which tent Jakoven's in?" I asked. We had to get to Jakoven first, so he couldn't use the Bane.

  Axiel shook his head. "They're all alike."

  "He'll be in a tent alone," said Garranon with certainty. "He doesn't trust Jade Eyes enough to sleep with him. All the wizards will be by themselves in another tent. The guardsmen will share the other two. If there's a way to do it, his tent will be surrounded by the others."

  Axiel grabbed a handful of stones and wordlessly laid out the camp as he'd seen it. Garranon hesitated over the two central tents.

  "One of these will be the wizards' and the other Jakoven's," he said.

  "Right," I said. "We all will go in at the same time as quietly as possible. Oreg will take this tent." I pointed at one of the tents Garranon held suspect. "I'll take the tent here. Hopefully, that'll give the two of us the mages. Axiel, Garranon, Tisala, and Tosten stay together and stop here." I set my hand between the tents that held the guards, so that any of the guards had to fight their way through my fighters to get to the wizards. "Wait to strike until the attacks on the mages start or until the sentries call alert. If we can kill the mages before they think to do anything nasty, it'll be the better for us."

  "Kill them all," said Garranon. "It'll look bad for Kellen's cause—an assassination rather than justice. But we don't want word of the Bane to make anyone else greedy for it."

  "Fine," I said, having come to the same conclusion myself. "Any better suggestions? Any questions or objections? Once we leave this tree, we need to be silent until we reach the camp."

  "What about the sentries, Ward?" asked Tosten. "I'm not worried about the guardsmen, but I don't like having a wizard scurrying about."

  "I don't like it, either," I agreed. "But what are our chances of taking him out first without alerting the camp?"

  "Not good," answered Axiel. "He's too close to the camp. Even the sound of his body dropping is likely to wake someone."

  "Our first goal is to get the Bane," I said. "That almost certainly means confronting Jakoven. Remember he's a wizard, and the only safe wizard is a dead one. Oreg or I, whichever one of us gets through with his target first, will have to go after the mage on sentry duty. The rest of you remember that sentry mage and keep to the shadows until the guards come out. Hopefully they'll serve to keep the mage from attacking you for fear of hitting them."

  "I can take the mage, before we move on the camp," said Oreg thoughtfully. "I've been used as an assassin before."

  I shook my head. "No."

  He snorted and appealed to Tisala. "It's really the 'use
d' he objects to. If I'd just told him I knew how to kill quietly, he'd have let me do it."

  "No," I said again, though, indeed, he was right. But there was a better reason. "If Axiel says it can't be done, I'll not risk it. We need surprise on our side."

  "So we leave the wizard and hope he doesn't kill one of us before you and Oreg get to him," said my brother.

  I nodded. "I don't see any way around it."

  So we crept through the mire and underbrush. I silently blessed the dampness that quieted the leaves that littered the ground at the same time as I cursed it for soaking up through leather and cloth. I lost sight of everyone except Tosten as we burrowed separately around the foliage that surrounded Jakoven's camp.

  One of the sentries walked out of the shadows not a hand's span from Tosten's outstretched hand. My brother and I froze, breathless, waiting for the man to look down and see Tosten lying on his belly in the mud. Eventually, the sentry continued on his way.

  My aunt usually posted sentinels rather than roving guards. She said it was too easy to be seen when you walk, and harder to see an enemy's movement. The only reason to have roving sentries, she claimed, is when the troops are all tired and walking is necessary to stay awake.

  Tosten and I continued on our way after exchanging quick, relieved grins. I lost sight of Tosten shortly before I emerged, mud and leaf covered, into the clearing where Jakoven's camp was set.

  I sent my magic out searching for the Bane and found it in the tent I'd chosen for my own. Oreg would face Jade Eyes, then. Relief and regret swept over me in equal parts.

  I crept forward slowly, from one shadow to another. The cloud-covered sky clothed the camp in darkness except for the area right around the banked campfire, so finding a shadowed path to my chosen tent was easy.

  I pulled out my knife and slit the side of the tent rather than bother trying to find the flap. The blade was sharp and slid through the wet fabric without making a sound.

  Inside the tent it was darker than the starlit night. I crouched just inside the slit I'd made and listened for Jakoven's breathing. But I heard nothing because there was no one there.

 

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