The Dragon's Throne

by Emily L K

  “Lady Cori.” A guard stepped forward and Cori recognised him as the man who had arrested them upon their entry to Resso. He put out his arm and Sunny stopped before it. “Where is the Karalis?”

  Cori shook her head, unable to find the words. “Just... take me to Tobin please.”

  “I’m here.” The head of Resso pushed through the gathering crowd. Cori slid from the chestnut’s back and landed heavily. Tobin caught one arm, and the guard caught the other, keeping her upright.

  “What happened, Cori?” Tobin frowned at her, “your clothes, your eyes...”

  Once more she shook her head. “Not here.”

  Tobin looked over her head at the guard. “Clear the crowd and stop any more from coming. I’ll take her back to the keep.”

  The guard nodded and released her. Cori sagged a little towards Tobin but he propped her up and forced her forward.

  “Just keep moving,” he instructed. The command reminded her of the Karalis and that was enough to keep her placing one foot in front of the other, even though her vision swam, until they reached the safety of the keep.

  Jhanna and a handful of servants met them at the entrance to the keep and the pregnant woman covered her mouth to stifle her gasp of horror.

  “You’re bleeding!” She said shrilly.

  “No, not mine,” Cori lied.

  “Out!” Tobin thundered at the servants. They scattered quickly and the head of Resso helped Cori to the nearest receiving room and pushed her into a chair.

  “Tell me,” Tobin commanded. Jhanna stood at his shoulder, her hands fluttering nervously, first around her face then across her belly.

  “We went north to confront a threat,” Cori said, as unwavering as she could muster, “and it went wrong. Ro- the Karalis had to sacrifice himself.”

  Both sets of dark eyes shifted to her bloody shirt. She felt sick at the thought but she neither confirmed nor denied their suspicions.

  “Well,” Tobin said heavily and at length, “I suppose that’s it then.” He glanced at his wife and they shared an unreadable look. Cori averted her eyes.

  “Let me take you to your rooms,” Jhanna said kindly, hands outstreached, “you look like you need some rest.”

  Cori stood and Jhanna linked arms with her. Together they moved slowly from the room and Tobin watched them go with a furrowed brow.

  CORI WASN’T GIVEN THE same room as before. Instead Jhanna deposited her in the room previously occupied by Rowan and quietly closed the door, insisting that Cori call if she need anything.

  She stared at the bed. This was perhaps the first time it had dawned on her that in Rowan‘s absence, she was now the Karaliene. It was a daunting and comfortless prospect and the thought made her chest tighten. She wrenched her eyes away and instead went to the bathroom, her hand trailing along the wall for support.

  She stayed in the shower until her skin was scrubbed pink and the water had run cold. The silver scars on her naked body served only as a reminder to the horrors of the days past. She worried at the thought of what Jarrah may have discovered about her during the healing process and she wondered if it was the right thing to do to flee the Dijem who had saved her. Forehead pressed against the shower wall, she let the cold water beat over her back and ran her fingers over the scars. There was no pain at all beneath them, not even a deep ache in the muscle. Rowan and his situation was creeping back into her her mind, demanding her attention. She swallowed down a lump of fear and willed the tears away.

  When she returned to the main room, she bypassed the bed once more and opened the dresser. There was a larger selection of clothes this time - their return had been expected - but Cori could tell they‘d been hastily put there, swapped quickly with the clothing intended for the Karalis. She rifled through them, not interested in wearing the pretty dresses and lacy nightgowns now she was so used to leggings and shirts.

  She thought she saw something made of plain wool at the back of the drawer. She pulled out the clothes in front, dumping them on the floor and reaching for the item she desired. She unfolded it and held it up. A lump formed in her throat and this time she couldn’t push it away. It was the grey shirt Rowan had worn the night they’d stayed here. She held it to her face and took a shaking breath. It still smelled like him; well-read books and scented soaps.

  She pulled the shirt over her head and climbed onto the bed, curling over her knees and pulling a pillow towards her head. She buried her face in it, then screamed. She screamed until her her throat was ripped and raw, and still the need to have him there, to take her in his arms was unabated. The pain was hollowing. It twisted her insides, pulling them to places they shouldn‘t be, assaulting her heart and scattering the shards throughout her body. Her fingers that clenched the pillow became needles and her toes curled into the covers were blades of glass. The screams grew hoarse and gave way to wracking sobs. She shoved the pillow away with a force that exploded it into a shower of down. Soft feathers rained down and she rolled onto her back to watch them, gasping breath after ragged breath. Finally she fell into a still numbness, her eyes glazed and unblinking as she stared at the ceiling. But all she could see was him falling. First to his knees, then to the ground. Over and over again.

  Arguing outside her door finally dragged her from her torment. She scrubbed a hand over her face in an attempt to compose herself.

  “- Can’t just barge in there, she’s the Karaliene now!” Tobin’s voice.

  “Don’t be ridiculous son, she is barely more than a girl who has just lost a man she loves. I don‘t care what you think happened. Someone needs to check on her.” Elia’s stern voice.

  “But -“ The door opened and closed, cutting off Tobin’s protests. Cori sat up against the headboard and wrapped her arms around her legs. She tried to smile bravely at Elia but her lower lip trembled with the effort and her eyes felt swollen and raw from crying.

  “Oh you poor dear,” Elia said and Cori couldn’t hold the tears back again. The old woman sat on the bed and pulled Cori into her arms. “Shh. There, there. Let it out. It’s hard to lose someone you love.”

  And Cori could no longer deny that she loved him. She grasped Elia’s dress and sobbed into the matriarch’s arms. She knew Rowan might be alive somewhere out there but going forward without him filled her with overwhelming fear. She didn’t think she could do it alone. Eventually her tears gave way to exhaustion and Elia tucked her under the blankets, plucking feathers from her hair.

  “Tomorrow will be hard,” she soothed, brushing Cori’s hair back from her face. “They’ll have questions and they’ll want to assert their positions. But for now, try to sleep.” Cori let her eyes drift closed.

  WHEN SHE WOKE THE ROOM was quiet and dark. Almost immediately new tears pricked her eyes, but she brushed them away angrily. “Enough,” she told herself, “enough.”

  She climbed out of bed and pulled on her leggings from the day before. They were filthy and splattered with blood but she detested the idea of putting on a dress. But to add a little feminism, she tied a blue sash around the shirt that had been Rowan’s, cinching it to her waist. There were two guards outside her doors and they fell in behind her as she made her way to the lower levels of the keep. She eyed them wearily, then straightened her back. What would Rowan do? She had to try to think like him now.

  The throne room was dark and still when she arrived but she heard voices from the receiving room off to the side. She made her way towards it and picked up snatches of the conversation.

  “- Word to Bretton. I don’t know what he’ll do but my advice is to withdraw.”

  “-Wise thing to do? I mean, -“

  “Shouldn’t we consult with the Karaliene on this?”

  “-Just a child.”

  “Distraught and -“

  Cori paused in the doorway, still in the shadows. With a quick sweep of her eyes she took in Tobin, Elia, Orin and a handful of men and women she didn’t know but could only be the lords and ladies of Resso. Orin’s eyes alighted
on her immediately but no one else saw her.

  This was a pivotal moment, she decided. She could go in there or she could back away. Either decision was going to have consequences she didn’t fully understand. She’d lost her mother, she’d lost Rowan. Her sole motivation now was to find Saasha. Could these people help her? Or would they only hinder her? Tobin spoke, his fingers pressed to his temples.

  “I would carry on with the plans if I could but without the Karalis’ magic I fear we would just fall to the slaughter under Hale’s might and Hearth’s numbers, and we still don’t know where the Islanders’ stand.” Muttering broke out among the nobles and Tobin waved a hand at a man who had a sheaf of parchment and a poised pen. “Write to Bretton.”

  “No.” Cori stepped into the room and the muttering stopped. All eyes fell to her, and she drew herself up to her full height, trying to seem imposing and regal despite her nerves. “You don’t have to join me but I will go south to remove the Advisor from my damned throne and I’ll need Bretton’s help. You’ll not put him off before I get there.”

  “But Cori,” Tobin glanced at his nobles before turning fully to face her. “I know you have the Dijem magic but you’ve been practising for only a moment of the time that the Karalis has known his. Will you be strong enough to take on Hale and the Advisor?”

  “I’m the one who returned from the north, am I not?” She disgusted herself. Rowan had killed that dragon. He‘d been the stronger one, but she needed Tobin on her side. “I have enough magic to usurp the Advisor and his allies both.”

  Tobin watched her doubtfully, his fingers running over his beard. “Thoughts?” He finally asked of the people around him. They muttered among themselves but no one stepped forward to speak, except Orin.

  “I would request your permission, Father, to accompany the Karaliene south, even if you will not.”

  Tobin studied his son, a crease in his brow, and Orin squared his shoulders. Beside him Elia smiled and nodded her approval. Cori could feel her heart hammering; surely Tobin would not allow Orin to go alone.

  Tobin’s expression hardened, he‘d been pushed into a corner and could not back down now. “Resso will go with you, Karaliene,” he said, somewhat defeated. A wave of his hand dismissed the room and Cori stepped out of the doorway to let them pass. Tobin was last to file out and Cori caught hold of his arm.

  “I may be strong,” she said, meeting his eye, “but I have no knowledge of warfare. In this I will need your guidance, now more than any other time. I want to win this war.”

  His expression softened, and he reached with his free hand to give her shoulder a squeeze.

  “Aye, in that it would be my pleasure to advise you, my lady Karaliene.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Tobin needed a few days to re-rally his army and work through their change of plans with his captains. Though Cori itched to leave, she knew the longer they spent in Bandar Utara, the longer she had to regain vital energy. It was also time she took to learn the necessities of war, the first lesson being one in aesthetics.

  Jhanna had taken it upon herself to design Cori a uniform to wear. Being the Karaliene, apparently she couldn’t wear the leathers that everyone else did. Jhanna wanted her to stand out.

  “I’ll be shot through with an arrow before I even reach the gates,” Cori informed the Head’s wife in dismay when Jhanna handed her a sketch of leathers dyed a brilliant blue with gold trims. “It’s too bright!”

  “My sister was at the graduation ball where you were selected as the heir.” The Head of State’s wife set her hands on her pregnant belly, lips pursed and eyes on the sketch in Cori’s hand. “It would be fitting for your armour to match your gown. A turning of the tides. Our enemies will know the Karaliene is coming.”

  “I don‘t want them to know I’m coming until it’s too late.” The words left her lips forcefully and Jhanna recoiled slightly. Cori inhaled and rolled her shoulders. She wanted to get back to Lautan and make the Advisor pay, but it was no use taking it out on those around her. “How about normal leathers that have been embossed? Would that set me apart?”

  Jhanna had wanted to argue - Cori could tell by the steely glint in her eyes - but she merely nodded, collected up her sketches and left the sitting room. Cori sat back with a sigh. She just wanted to wear what every other Hiram soldier would be wearing; a leather vest that protected the chest but allowed free movement of the arms.

  The basics of an army had been explained to her over the past days. Contingents were made up of humans and weaker Hiram who wore a fuller armour and carried heavy weapons; swords, axes and hammers. They protected the Hiram fighters who attacked from a distance. The Hiram would often carry knives to deal killing blows when they got close enough.

  She watched a white curtain float on the breeze by an open window. Outside was the perpetual sound of captains barking orders and soldiers preparing to march. She sucked on the inside of her lip, sifting back through all the details of the army that had been fed to her. Their structure didn’t make sense, and she had an inkling that the humans on the front line were sacrificial. She decided not to say anything to Tobin yet. It would be best for them to be on the road before she tried to enforce big changes.

  She’d also discovered that magic didn’t play as huge a part in Hiram wars as it did for the Dijem. Tobin explained in depth what Rowan had already mentioned to her; that Hiram magic was based on physical strength and that trying to use it against other Hiram in a war was about as effective as a pub brawl. Only the very strong - or very lucky - Hiram ever landed a killing blow with magic alone.

  Cori thought of her mother. Had the man that killed her been exceptionally strong or had he just gotten a lucky hold? In any case, Cori had crushed that man against the wall. The Hiram in this war would be in for a rude shock if she had to unleash her own strange blend of magic upon them.

  Her hand found the glass of wine on the side table and she lifted it for a sip. She’d come to the conclusion early on that the State’s actually knew very little about warfare beyond drills and training. There hadn’t been so much as a border skirmish since Rowan had taken the throne a thousand years ago. They were working purely with theoretical situations.

  The wine glass seemed to be bottomless now she was the Karaliene, and she was quick to set it aside again. Alcohol she could handle, but she was a rum drinker, used to a slow burn, not the heady spin that wine produced if drunk too quickly. It was just one of the many things Rowan hadn’t taught her about the upper class. His ability to manipulate the minds of multiple Hiram at once meant he hadn’t fallen prey to such traditions. Cori was not so lucky in her skills; she was forced to be pleasant to keep the nobility of Resso on side and if that meant drinking wine with them every time she was handed a glass then so be it.

  When it became clear that Jhanna wasn‘t coming back, Cori stood and left the sitting room, her hand pressed over her chest, heart thumping unevenly. She needed to find something else to do before her anxiety set in. The preparations for war had kept her mind occupied and everyone in the keep, from Tobin to the servants, wanted some of her time, but in the rare moments she was alone, the ghosts crept back in, threatening to cripple her with grief.

  She‘d lifted her barriers, sure that Jarrah and her kin would not seek her out in a city as busy as Bandar Utara, but the absence where Rowan’s mind had once been, always at the edge of her awareness, left a painful ache in her chest alongside the heartbreak she felt for her mother. She couldn’t fully resign herself to his absence, for when she had her guard down she found herself expecting him to walk through the door, a reassuring smile on his face, a brush of his hand over hers or a playful jab to the ribs.

  She tried not to seek him with her Hum as she didn’t want to draw the attention of the real Daiyu, or Jarrah or any other Dijem that might be out there, but at night she often woke to find her mind seeking on its own, flaring across the universe with a keening song. Her Hum, even in its weakened state, could reach across Hen Goeden
and into the Tundra. He never responded.

  She walked without purpose along the corridors, her guards, as always, trailing behind. She rubbed her finger where the sapphire ring had been. Its absence was a reassuring one; it meant that Rowan was alive, that she‘d given him the ring so he could hopefully one day bring it back to her.

  She rarely had to go far before someone came seeking her and this time it was Orin who called her name. Her expression remained neutral as she pivoted to face him. She wasn’t sure what it was about Orin - he was nothing less than courteous to her at all times - but just his presence in the same room as her drew back all the memories of the mistakes she had made as a girl. He reminded her of Quart, and she hated him for it.

  “The Hearthian army is moving east to meet our men at the barge.” He was breathless with excitement, hair dishevelled from running. Cori waited impatiently. “Father is gathering the lords and ladies to tell them. Will you join us?”

  “Of course,” she replied politely, though she’d rather be anywhere else. She allowed Orin to lead the way, staying a few steps behind so he wouldn’t try to engage her in conversation. he led her to the throne room where people were already gathering and she set her expression as she wended through them behind Orin. They gave her strange looks, as always. They didn’t trust her. Who was this girl, they thought, who can take the throne unopposed? And where is the Karalis? This girl arrived back at Bandar Utara covered in blood. Was it his? She tried not to care: she needed Resso’s army, what the rest thought of her was irrelevant, but the rumours about her murder of Rowan were hard to stomach. In some ways she had almost killed him by insisting he use the song.

  Cori reached the front of the crowd and stood beside Tobin. It was easy to maintain her blank facade if she just stared through the people before her, pretended they weren’t even there. That was what Rowan had done. He’d looked through everyone but noticed everything. Except her, she thought bitterly. He’d looked at her, and she’d been the one to look through him. She took a shuddering breath, thankfully masked by Tobin’s call for silence.