by C S Vass
“You think I’m out whoring?” Benjiko asked. “Come inside, you fool. Someone just tried to murder this woman in her bed.”
Brett looked at her and blinked. “Who is she? If there’s been an attempted murder, should I gather a force to investigate?”
Benjiko shook his head. “Come inside. We need bandages and a dry place where we won’t be overhead discussing some official business.”
Brett nodded. “Very well. I’ll be very interested to hear exactly what’s been going on.” He turned to Faela. “And sorry. For thinking you were a woman of the night, I mean. Nothing personal.”
Faela rolled her eyes. It was going to be a long night indeed.
* * *
They gave Faela proper time bandage her wounds and change clothes, which she was extremely grateful for. The Midnight Wish was a stinking rattrap with a hidden gem in one of its basement rooms. The tavern itself was filthy, reeking of cheap beer, piss, and the breath of drunks and destitutes with nowhere better to be.
The walls were run-down and spotted with mold. Rotted wood jutted awkwardly from floorboards that creaked and groaned like a man left too long on the rack. But downstairs, in a room that sat on the other side of a door that looked like all the others, was a very different type of atmosphere.
Faela walked inside the room she was sent to and gasped. A blast of heat hit her from a long hearth dug into the center of the floor. Mahogany panels lined the walls and clean animal skins kept the draft from the brick floor. At the end of the room a tub waited for her with steaming hot water. A comfortable mattress stuffed with goose feathers rested on a sturdy frame. There were even two fine jugs of wine, one white and one red, resting on a table by the tub.
The Prince of Iryllium enjoyed his hidden secrets. Faela’s only regret was that when they send her down she was instructed to take as little time as was possible.
She cleaned herself, only lingering as long as she dared, and dressed her wound. It wasn’t as bad as she had first thought though she would certainly have a scar from her shoulder to her elbow. When she finished she bandaged the cut and then opened the closet where as promised, clean clothes fit for a warrior princess waited for her.
She returned to the common room feeling comfortable and very, very sleepy.
Benjiko and Brett were waiting for her at a table tucked away into the corner. “I certainly never would have expected to find a room like that in a place like this,” she said.
Brett poured her a glass of ale. “That’s precisely why it’s here,” he said. “Iryllium is a city in which very little is truly as it appears to be.”
There was a snarky comment waiting on the tip of her tongue, but Faela exercised some restraint. She was tired and wanted to get to the heart of things.
“Faela,” Benjiko said. “This is the Captain of the Guard for my father’s household. Brett, commonly referred to as the Bear.”
“A pleasure,” Brett responded. Once Faela got a good look at him, it wasn’t hard to see why he was called the Bear. His green-grey eyes and salt and pepper hair were human enough, but his massively wide shoulders and thick course hair that coated his arms like a pelt surely earned him his alias.
“I’ve already informed Brett that you are a guest of my father’s, a Dragon ordered to the city.”
“One that’s lost her fire at that,” Brett added. “A terrible thing.”
“I nearly got it back, for just a moment,” Faela said. “I was told it won’t be permanent.”
“No, certainly not,” Benjiko said gravely. “Which is why they will try to kill you as quickly as possible, before your abilities return too you.”
“But who would want to do that?” Faela asked.
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Benjiko said. The fire reflected dangerously in his silver eyes. Faela wondered what his sign was, but knew it would be rude to ask. “We’ll get a report from the guards, but I don’t expect that we’re going to learn too much from it.”
“Benjiko,” Brett said. The old guard’s eyes were sunken and he looked tired beyond his age. A man facing the end of his middle years. “There’s a reason you’re in the middle of this. My job is to protect you. I think you had best tell us what you know.”
Benjiko nodded. “Very well,” he said. “It goes without saying that what we speak of hear stays between us.”
“And her,” Brett nodded towards Faela. “We can trust this Dragon?”
“The fact that I have brought her here should answer that question for you,” Benjiko said curtly.
“Besides,” Faela added, determined not to be talked about as if she were not there. “Dragons are more trustworthy than bears.”
Brett smiled. But just slightly.
“The reason the Dragons have been summoned to Iryllium,” Benjiko said. “Is because the Sages have requested it.”
“The Sages?” Brett wrinkled his brow.
Faela was also confused. “You mean…the ones who oversee the Shigata? What do they have to do with this?”
“It’s not entirely clear to me,” Benjiko said. “But I know that they foresee some sort of crisis coming. They believe there’s an enormous threat to Gaellos, and they’ve convinced my father of such.”
“Yes, and a sellsword will warn you of encroaching armies every chance he gets,” Brett said. “But that doesn’t mean there’s a grain of truth to it.”
“Why would your father listen to the Shigata anyway?” Faela asked. “They’re monsters. They’re—”
“Not fully human?” Benjiko asked sharply. His silver eyes were focused on her.
Faela felt her face burn at the insinuation Benjiko was making. “I’ll have you know I’m half elf and I have no ill-will against non-humans. But the Shigata are different. They’re an unnatural creation. They break their Seal of Love—”
Benjiko raised his hand. “We stray to far from the issue at hand,” he said. “We’re not here to debate the morality of the Shigata. Whatever they are, my father has given the Sages his ear. He has summoned the Dragons to Iryllium in order to prepare for whatever crisis might be at hand.”
“And what say you about all of this?” Brett asked.
Benjiko was silent for a moment. Faela sipped her ale while he considered the question. “My primary concern,” he said at last, “is that my father is becoming unfit to lead.”
Brett placed his hand on Benjiko’s arm. “You be careful with the words you utter, son. That was a treasonous statement.”
“It was. But I have your confidence, do I not?”
Brett’s mouth was a hard line, but he nodded. “You do. You know where my loyalty lies.”
“Good. Now I’m hoping for some more pieces to this puzzle. Faela, what do you know about any of it? Is there anything you can tell us? Have you seen or heard anything? Perhaps when you were attacked, or from another Dragon…”
Faela nodded. Benjiko was more honest than she could have ever expected him to be with her, so now was not the time to cling to secrets. “I found a letter,” she said. “It was on one of the raiders who attacked us.”
“What did it say?”
“It was vague. Unclear. But it urged its carrier to slaughter every Dragon they could find. It spoke of loyalty to a false King, and a united Gaellos.”
Benjiko and Brett listened with grave faces while she recited the full contents of the letter.
“A false King and a united Gaellos,” Brett muttered. “My lord, this threat is more serious than I could have anticipated. It’s obvious the message comes from the East.”
“Perhaps,” Benjiko said.
“Perhaps? Who else but that lunatic Emperor speaks of a united Gaellos?”
“I don’t know,” Benjiko said. “But I will reserve judgement until I am certain. I don’t like the looks of things at all. But that letter may have been meant to fall into our hands. I will not be used as a puppet to be provoked into confrontation.” The Prince fell silent for a while. At last he said, “My father is not to know about this lette
r.”
Brett bit his lip, but nodded. “Agreed.”
“Listen,” Faela said. “You have to tell me more. If I’ve been summoned to help deal with some sort of crisis, then I need to know what it is, don’t I? What exactly do you know about this threat?”
“Nothing I haven’t already told you,” Benjiko said. “None of the information I have was intended for me. I had to scrape by the bits that I could. All the same, I’m deeply worried. To attack Dragons on the road is one thing, but to be bold enough to send an assassin inside the walls of the city. I shouldn’t have killed that man. I should have tried to take him in, but I was worried he was the superior warrior. Perhaps I’ve killed our only chance at solving this mystery.”
“You did the right thing,” Brett said quickly. “There can be no doubt of that.”
Benjiko nodded slowly, but maintained his silence.
“Faela,” Brett said. “If we’re going to weather this storm, then we’re going to need all of the help that we can get. It would be incredibly useful to have a Dragon that we could rely on. Someone inside the operations that we could trust. Are you that person?”
Faela considered. She knew she didn’t understand the extent of what was being asked of her. How could she? But all the same, without Benjiko’s sword arm she would be dead. Without his knowledge she would have no idea about any of these things. The alliance was forming naturally.
“Yes,” she said, without hesitation. “I have reason to trust you both now. I will do what I can to help.”
“You’ll continue to stay in the castle as a guest,” Benjiko said. “At least until your fire returns to you.”
Faela noticed Brett’s knuckles tremble, but the Captain held his silence.
“In the meanwhile,” Benjiko continued, “while inside the castle, you must try to stay away from my father. He’s been seeing enemies in every shadow, and I wouldn’t want your position to become compromised because of some sort of complication. Try to keep a low profile.”
Faela nodded. “That won’t be a problem.
“You two leave after me in case someone is watching,” Benjiko said. Brett opened his mouth to protest but Benjiko quickly added, “That wasn’t a question.”
A short time later Faela found herself marching back up the walkway towards the castle. Brett hovered closer to her than she would have liked, and she could only assume it was his natural training as a guard. The rain had faded to a mere sprinkling though the streets were still filled with puddles.
A hooded figure approached them as they neared the castle.
“State your business,” Brett said in a booming voice. His hand drifted towards the hilt of his sword. Faela felt an overwhelming sense of foreboding at the appearance of the figure.
“A message from King Boldfrost,” the man replied. “Faela the Dragon is to report to the throne room at once.”
Chapter Fourteen
Torin smiled into the face of Reinko Assini. The Shigata did not dare to attempt any trickery. He had been forced to wait two full nights at the Hummingbird before the man had appeared, and he wasn’t about to waste the opportunity by doing something foolish.
How like a fairy tale, Torin had thought when he finally spotted Godwin’s old master on the third evening. All the best things happen in threes. Assini’s appearance was exactly as it had been described to Torin. He was a bulking figure of a man with brilliant green eyes and long blonde hair that fell loosely over his shoulders.
Torin was forced to admit to himself that he was actually a little nervous about meeting Godwin’s old master. Reinko Assini hadn’t taught a pupil in years, but he was still known widely as the best of the best. Still a legend.
Which only added to the paradox. Assini had an incredibly reputation, but for all his efforts Torin was hard-pressed to understand why. Nobody seemed able to remember any war that he had fought in. There were no heroic slayings, daring rescues, or famous battles that Torin had heard of. In fact whenever someone did remember something about Reinko Assini and a fight, it was usually that the old master was denouncing it and urging the warriors to sheath their blades.
“Like all the other Shigata, you flash around your thrygta like an arrogant school boy wearing a belt with a new buckle,” Reinko said.
Torin looked casually at the dragon-in-chains amulet around his neck. “If a warrior wears a sword at his belt, is that considered arrogance or simply a message to let people know how things will be if there’s trouble? Some would say the precaution is welcome. That it helps avoid…unpleasant situations.”
Reinko snorted. “Spoken like the rest of the philosopher-butchers.” He took a long drag of his ale. “You have my attention as long as you’re paying for my food and drink, but all the same let’s not let this linger longer than necessary.”
“Very well,” Torin said. The Hummingbird was crowded again, which he was grateful for. He was always more comfortable in the anonymity of a large group. “I’m interested in some of the things you’ve had to say about battle. You’re a legendary swordsman, but you’ve denounced many fights. Most famously you refused to participate in the Bloodwater Wars. What do—”
“A fine act,” Reinko interrupted. “But I asked for brevity. If you’re going to ask me about my old pupil, you might as well do it. How is the bastard? Is he still slaughtering men for coin like a common thug?”
Torin smiled. “You live up to every bit of your cutting reputation,” Torin replied. “It makes me wonder if you really believe in non-violence, since you’re not willing to discuss it at all.”
“I’m not willing to discuss the hemorrhoids that blister my arse either, but that doesn’t mean I don’t believe in them,” Reinko said. He took another large swig from his cup. “Besides, I know what cloth the Shigata are cut from. There’s no point in discussing things like non-violence with the likes of you. So let’s cut to the chase as I initially asked. I’m starting to lose my thirst.”
Torin bowed his head. “You humble me, Master Assini. Rightfully so, I might add. Yes, I’m here to talk about Godwin of Brentos. If you’re willing to do so, then you’re quite correct there’s no point in wasting any more of your time. So to get to the meat of it, my first question is this: why was Godwin sent to you during the Bloodwater Wars?”
“You ask me questions that you could find in any court records in Brentos,” Reinko replied. “Godwin was sent to me at the request of Lord Ysabelle Wenjen, in her infinite wisdom.” He made no effort to disguise the sarcasm dripping from his voice. “He was an excellent swordsman. What else is there to say? They took him as a young boy who by rights shouldn’t even have been able to hold a sword, and quickly realized he was better than most of the men. So they sent him my way to sharpen those skills.”
“Skills that were desperately needed to repel an invading army of sun warriors,” Torin said. “I’m so relieved your sense of patriotism led you to accept your orders. But then, why not fight in the war yourself?”
“I thought we were staying away from my own philosophy.”
“My apologies. You’re right. But Godwin was your young prodigy. You didn’t want to fight in Bloodwater, but you sent Godwin off to those vicious battles. It just seems odd.”
“Look here you scoundrel!” Reinko’s eyes glowered with anger. He bared his teeth like a dog about to bite. “I did everything in my power to prevent Godwin from going to battle. I told him that orders mean nothing and he had the choice to do whatever he wished. He wished to go to war. That is what he told me. He insisted on it. Felt certain that everyone he knew and loved was doomed to enslavement by the Empire should the sun warriors have prevailed. He wanted to join the wolves, and that’s exactly what the dumb bastard did.”
Torin smiled despite himself. When he imagined Reinko Assini, he had pictured more or less the stereotype of a nobleman. Regal. Dignified. Not a foul-mouthed man who could be no more than fifteen or twenty years older than himself.
“But you still agreed to train him,” Torin s
aid. “Despite not wanting him to enter the fighting.”
“Indeed I did,” Reinko said. “A sword is made for cutting, and a master is made for teaching. What else can I say? He was my pupil.”
Torin scratched his head. He had expected a riddle when he set out to find Godwin’s master. He had not expected to encounter three riddles wrapped inside a conundrum. This was going to take more time, and more skill, than he initially realized.
“Answer me this, Master Assini. Would you be troubled to see the sun banners fall over the walls of Iryllium? Would it matter to you?”
Reinko smiled. “Not in the slightest. Other than the butchery that would inevitably have to take place in order for that to happen.”
“Yes,” Torin said. “Wars are always filled with such savage acts. It is a shame. Which brings me to the most important question. I believe you already know what I’m going to ask.”
Assini’s eyes shone like emeralds. “I believe I do. But I’d rather hear it from the snake’s forked tongue before I presume too much.”
“How did Godwin break his Seal of Love?”
The room was crowded with drunks, but everything felt very quiet the moment that Torin asked the question. He felt a deep rage in Assini, masked by a contemptuous smile.
“Your barbaric rituals are of little concern to me,” Reinko said.
“Yes, but surely you know that the Shigata do not instruct people to break the Seal of Love. Nor do we monitor when they do. There is simply a check to ensure that it has been done.”
“Then your own procedures should tell you that your question is meaningless. What does it matter how a man breaks the Seal of Love? What does does it matter if he strangles his lover with his bare hands, or simply his best friend? The life will leave their eyes all the same, will it not? Don’t give me that look. I don’t want to hear about common misconceptions dealing with the Seal. Does it matter if he kills his mother or his child? Does it matter if he—”
Torin raised his hand. “I have to stop you there, I’m afraid. Despite the fact that you take me for a barbarian I find your eagerness to enumerate the possible horrors unsettling.”