The Dragon Oracles: Omnibus Edition (The Eastern Kingdom Omnibus Book 1)

by T. J. Garrett

  “I’m more than interested, Lanay. Thank you. I’ll come now.” Elspeth spun around looking for a towel and a clean robe while juggling her brushes.

  As though reading her mind, Lanay put in, “There’s a robe and towel in the room, miss. Everything is ready.”

  Elspeth smiled. “Then lead on, please.”

  Following Lanay out, Elspeth peered up and down the hallway, very much aware she was still in her nightdress. “Is anybody else awake?”

  “They’re up and out, miss. Mr. Re’adh and his lad are off about the village. Mr. Daleman is with Aleban, looking over the farm. Mr. O’lamb and Mr. Arfael are reading, I think. I don’t know where your brother has gone. Chasing a girl, maybe?” She smiled and gave Elspeth a wink. “You know what young men are like. I have two his age, myself.”

  “As long as he’s not getting himself into any trouble. That boy could test a monk’s patience.”

  “Yes, boys that age, they are all the same. Here we are, miss,” Lanay said, pushing open the door to a steam-filled room.

  Elspeth could barely see the large copper bath, filled almost to the brim with steaming water. It was one of a row of three. Her tub, the full one, was at the far end. The aroma of rose oil filled her head with its sweet scent; she could not help but stand for a moment and breathe it in. The blast of warm steam clung to her face, and her hair was damp by the time she reached the centre of the room.

  “You go and have your bath, miss,” Lanay said. “I will bring some breakfast to your room when you’re done. There is a latch on the door; no need to worry about anyone disturbing you. Oh, and if you could open the grates when you’re finished; it can get damp in here if we’re not careful.” Lanay gave a shallow curtsy.

  Elspeth wondered if the men had food brought to their room. A pang of guilt fluttered in her belly. She decided to ignore it. “Thank you, Lanay. This is going to be so relaxing.”

  Lanay nodded before leaving and Elspeth drew the latch on the door.

  She sank up to her neck in the hot water. Breathing deeply of the rose-scented vapour, she drifted into a restful trance and very nearly fell asleep again. Relaxing was no exaggeration – a comfortable bed, and now a hot bath – how was she going to manage for the next four weeks without such things?

  “This is no good.” She laughed, mumbling to herself. “Get yourself washed and sorted, Elspeth. You can’t stay here all day.”

  The stand next to the bath had two – two! – different types of soap. And this is the Hall of Wolves? I wonder how many kinds of soap the inn has. She chose the lemon.

  After thoroughly washing from head to foot, she looked in horror at the thick layer of dirt floating on top of the bath water. Begrudgingly, she pulled herself up. While the tub drained, she rinsed off with one of the jugs of clean water, then used the other one to swill the bath. I can’t leave it in this state. What will they think? She dried off and wrapped herself in the clean robe. Opening the door a crack, she made certain the hallway was clear before scurrying back to her room.

  After cleaning her brushes, she inspected the pile of clothes stacked neatly on the small table at the foot of her bed and gave a nod of satisfaction. No silly robes today; all her clothes were clean and smelled of lemon.

  She barely had time to dress before another knock rattled the door.

  “It’s me again, miss.”

  “Come in, Lanay.”

  Lanay entered carrying a covered tray. “Aye, you look fit for the ball, miss. I’ll bet that feels better.”

  Elspeth blushed. “Yes, you have no idea, Lanay. But I don’t know about a ball.” Elspeth fussed with her breeches and straightened her hair.

  “Pretty girls like you don’t need dresses, miss. Now come on, let’s have some hot food down you, too.” She placed the tray on the bedside table. “I didn’t know what you might like, miss, so I went with the porridge. Everybody likes my porridge,” she said while nodding assertively. “There are prunes and a little bit of honey in it. The tea is fresh and so is the bread roll.”

  “Thank you, Lanay. That’s very kind of you. I hardly want this morning to end.”

  “You are welcome, miss.”

  Lanay took a long stare at Elspeth’s bow, which lay unstrung on the spare bed. “Skirmish bow? Unusual for a young woman. I’d have thought…” Lanay waved her hand dismissively. “Never mind. Listen to me, chatting away when you want to eat.” She curtsied and was about to leave…

  “No, please. What were you going to say? I’m very interested in archery.”

  “Very well, miss.” Lanay seemed eager to continue. Archery must have been a preferred subject among the Rukin, too. “Skirmish bows are usually favoured by close combatants, soldiers who expect to be in the thick of it, so to speak. They’re thick, and can be used as a club. Most of our women favour the long bow. Supporting the soldiers and killing at a distance is a woman’s job.”

  Elspeth felt her eyes widened. Gods, she sounds so serious. “I–I never thought of it that way.” It seemed that living with wolves was not the only unusual arrangement in Illeas’den. Women – not soldiers, just ordinary women – fighting in battles! If the town council back home heard of that…

  Lanay continued: “Toban is teaching some of the young boys and girls over at the range this morning… most mornings, in fact. You should go and watch. They are very good, so I hear. I don’t get much spare time, or I’d be up there, too.”

  “Toban is teaching archery? How?”

  “Oh, miss. You know shooting a straight arrow is more about the mind than the body. And Toban has a very good mind.”

  “Of course. Yes. Yes, I think I will go and watch.”

  “Good. Once you have eaten up all your breakfast, I will point you in the right direction. Just come through to the kitchen when you’re done.” Lanay bobbed a curtsy and left Elspeth to finish her breakfast, pulling the door closed behind her.

  The porridge was surprisingly nice. Elspeth had always considered it a boring meal. Then again, her mother had never put prunes in it or laced it with honey. For that matter, her mother had never drawn her a rose-scented bath.

  Lanay was busy washing up when Elspeth took the tray through to the kitchen. After checking the bowl was empty, the motherly woman gave directions to the archery range.

  Elspeth followed the path northwards to the edge of Illeas’den, until reaching a red barn, then turned right along the track for another hundred paces, and then left at a fallen oak. She could hear the cheering from there. Maybe somebody had hit the bull’s-eye.

  Turning into the field, she was surprised to see at least a dozen young children – very young, some could not have been more than nine or ten. And more surprised to see how far away the targets had been set. The teacher – at least Elspeth thought he was the teacher – a tall, older man she had seen with Toban the previous evening, had to kneel on the ground to correct the stance of one young girl. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought my bow. By the gods, how can those children even shoot that far? Never mind aim!

  “Good morning, Elspeth.” Toban bowed as he greeted her.

  “Good morning to you, Mr. Toban.” Elspeth mimed a skirtless curtsy.

  Toban coughed one of his snarling laughs. “Please, Elspeth, Toban will do. I have enough of titles at the village meetings.”

  Elspeth smiled. “I understand. My father is an emissary. I don’t much like folk calling me Lady Tanner.”

  “At least that’s short. We would get much more done if the village council kept to first names.” Toban sniggered and shook his head slowly. “I see you have your bow. Did you want to practice?”

  “I was thinking about it until I saw what I might be up against. These children are incredible. They must be born with a bow in their hands.”

  “We start them at five and practice an hour every morning. More than anything else, it is discipline they are learning, not just how to hit a target. Come, let us see your technique. Maybe you can teach us something.”

  Th
e targets were made of woven straw, and the closest was a good twenty paces away. The one Elspeth chose to aim at was hanging from the branch of an old oak tree. A red circle had been painted in the centre, a larger red circle than on the others. Maybe it was the beginner’s target.

  She nocked an arrow and took her usual stance. The children decided to stop what they were doing and watch the new girl… which did nothing for Elspeth’s already-thumping heart. She drew the bow, held for her usual count to three and loosed the arrow midway through an exhaled breath – just as she had been taught, right to the letter. She felt a smile of relief crease her lips when her arrow hit the centre of the red circle. With a triumphant nod, she turned to Toban for approval.

  But he was not looking at the target.

  “Not bad, Elspeth. You are halfway there. A week or two should fix that problem.”

  “What problem? I–I hit the centre!” Elspeth wiggled her outstretched finger at the target.

  “Yes, Elspeth, but with that amount of force you would not have pierced the skin, never mind armour.”

  “But… uh… I don’t—”

  “That bow is wrong for you. Arlec!” Toban shouted the other teacher over. “The bow you have is for a man a good hand taller than you are. Arlec here will fix it.”

  Arlec pulled up from his run. “You bellowed, Toban.”

  “Yes, Arlec. Measure Elspeth for a bow please, and see if we have something more suited to her size.”

  “No need for that, Toban.” The old man looked Elspeth up and down. “She is of a size with Lorne. Lorne!”

  A young girl – not much more than fourteen, Elspeth guessed – stood to attention and then ran over at Arlec’s come-here gesture. “Yes, sir?” She curtsied.

  “If you don’t mind, could you let young Elspeth here borrow your bow for ten minutes?” the old man asked.

  “Of course not, sir.” Lorne smiled and curtsied to Elspeth – that made her grin – before handing over the bow. The longbow was, ironically, a good hand shorter than Elspeth’s old one.

  Toban thanked the young girl before turning his attentions back to Elspeth. “Now, try again with that one.”

  Elspeth did so. She did everything the same… and missed, terribly.

  “It’s all in the loosing, Elspeth,” Toban said. “That bow fits your size better and so is harder to draw than the longer one you were using. You must compensate by thrusting your elbow back harder on your release. Try again.”

  Elspeth snorted. This is never going to work. Reluctantly, she followed Toban’s instruction. And to her surprise, not only did she hit the dead centre of the target, the hanging circle of straw all but flipped over on itself. “Gods, that was good. I mean… uh… thank you, Toban. I can’t believe I have gone all this time with the wrong bow.”

  “It wasn’t wrong, exactly,” Toban said. “Just not as right as it could be… a common mistake.”

  “And now I have to get a new bow.” Elspeth sighed, after handing the longbow back to Lorne.

  “Don’t fret, child. We will have one that size lying about somewhere. I’d put money on it,” Arlec said. “I’m sure we can spare one for you.”

  “Really! That’s very kind of you, sir.”

  Elspeth smiled, and the children gathered around to congratulate her. Seemed she was one of them, now.

  Daric turned the corner into the archery field, with Grady, Gialyn and her brother in tow.

  “Excellent shooting, Elspeth,” Daric said. “I would not want to be on the wrong end of that.”

  “Yes, excellent.” Grady echoed the sentiment, and Gialyn gave a firm nod while clapping his hands.

  Elspeth beamed at their compliments. She took in a deep, satisfied breath and showed her teeth in a huge smile for the smaller children.

  “Still not a moving target, though, is it, Elspeth?” Ealian scowled as he took a pace away from the others. “I mean, it’s not like an assassin is going to hold still while you count to three.”

  Elspeth’s shoulders slumped. The children quietened down until an awkward silence lingered over the target range.

  “Everything in its own time, Ealian,” Daric said. “It’s hard practicing with a moving target when you’re on your own. If you haven’t got a swing target, you’ll at least need a thrower.”

  Elspeth, putting Ealian’s snide remarks behind her, asked, “What’s the best way to do that, Mr. Re’adh?”

  “Well, in the guards, we like melon heads.” He laughed, and Grady joined in. “But if you don’t have any melons, a small sack full of dirt will do well enough.” Daric folded his arms; a sober look came over him. “Like anything else, practice is the key; practice and consistency. It can take a hundred hours to get used to a new bow, a thousand to perfect a new technique. There are no shortcuts to any skill.”

  “I know that, Mr. Re’adh. I have practiced two hours a day for the past three years.” Elspeth felt a pang of irritation. Talking as if she was a child was always a good way to annoy her. “Would you care to demonstrate?” That will teach him to get high and mighty with me.

  “Not with that bow. Have you got a dark yew, an Eastern Kalidhain, or something similar?”

  Arlec’s eyebrows rose. “We don’t practice with black yew bows. The wood is too rare. You can use mine. It is good hickory.”

  Daric nodded at Grady, who filled the small lunch bag he was carrying with dirt before running thirty paces down the range.

  Daric continued with his lesson, “Unless your enemy is running in a straight line directly towards you, and there are a lot of them, it is pointless aiming at a moving target that’s more than fifty paces away. It would just be blind luck were you to hit it… unless, of course, you were aiming for the horse.”

  Elspeth shuddered. “Who would aim for the poor horse?”

  “You will if those are your orders.” Daric barked his reply.

  Daric’s mind had entered that of a soldier, once again, Elspeth thought. It was strange, and a little bit frightening, how effortlessly the man could do that.

  Daric nocked the arrow, took his stance, and nodded at Grady to throw the head. Raising the bow swiftly, Daric aimed and loosed the arrow in a heartbeat. The arrow flew true. The head spun as the tip sliced into the dirt-filled bag. The force of the blow pushed the bag back another five paces.

  Once again, the children fell silent as Grady ran to pick up the target. And then they erupted into cheers and excited clapping as he lifted the skewered bag above his head.

  Elspeth closed her mouth and blinked. She must have looked as shocked as the small children – all wide-eyed and gawping. “Gods, Mr. Re’adh. That was very… impressive.”

  “He wasn’t the Captain of the Guards because of his winning personality,” Grady said as he re-joined them. He dropped the head at Daric’s feet. “Not bad, old man. You were a bit off centre, though.”

  “Why didn’t you enter the archery tourney?” Elspeth asked. “You would have won easily.”

  Daric seemed to have relaxed back into his usual self. “I have entered a few competitions in my time, Elspeth, but I’d usually come second.”

  Again, Elspeth mouth open and her eyes widen. “I’d like to meet the man who could beat you… or rather; I wouldn’t, not if he was an enemy, at least.”

  Daric laughed, then pointed at Grady. “He is standing beside you.”

  Grady bowed as Elspeth turned to him.

  “Unbelievable! Nobody had the faintest idea. Why keep it secret?”

  “Showing off is not the best way to avoid trouble, Elspeth,” Grady said. “We have both had our fill of fighting. Chest beating is a young man’s game.”

  “Of course, archery is not the guardsman’s first defence,” Daric told her. “A guardsman’s, or woman’s, job is to combat the unexpected, the lone assassin. If the archers are called, things have already gone beyond simple guard work. You should practice your unarmed combat, too.”

  “So I’ve wasted my time practicing the bow?”

/>   “No, of course not. A guard has to be top of their game with all weapons. But guardsmen favour the knife and the shortsword over all else.”

  Daric grabbed Gialyn by the shoulder and pulled him to the front. “Give him two of your knives.”

  Gialyn tried to wriggle away. “No, Father, I’d rather not.”

  Daric laughed. “Come on, boy, this is a lesson for our Elspeth. You can help.”

  “As you wish.” Gialyn sighed as he took the daggers.

  Elspeth felt very puzzled by it all. What is he going to do? He has no talent for weapons.

  “So,” Daric continued, “let us pretend, for a moment, that we are on the battlements.” Daric ushered Gialyn to his right, in the pretence of walking the ramparts. “And there, twenty paces away, an assassin is sneaking into the royal chambers.” Daric nodded to Grady. “Would you be our sneaking assassin?”

  Grady pursed his lips, he looked ready to say no, but, “As you say, Daric, but don’t aim for me.” He stabbed a finger in Gialyn’s direction. “I’ll come out from behind that tree. You bloody well aim at the target, you hear!”

  “Of course he’ll aim for the target, don’t be silly.” Daric shot his friend a dry grin. Then, turning to Gialyn, he said, “Put the knives in your belt, boy. No cheating.”

  Grady ran to the tree and hid behind it – the one with the hanging target. “Ready when you are,” he shouted.

  Daric and Gialyn stood side by side, maybe fifteen paces from the target.

  “Now, imagine we are on guard duty, minding our own business, just talking to each other about som—”

  Suddenly, Gialyn crouched. He took a knife in each hand, and in one smooth movement, he spun on the spot and flicked the blades away.

  Elspeth – and half the children – jumped back. They quickly turned to look at the target. It was swaying back and forth, with the two blades stuck firmly in the dead centre.

  “You see,” Daric said. “I didn’t even get my arrow nocked. Princess Olivia, gods bless her, would be dead if I had relied on my bow.”