The Dragon's Blade_The Last Guardian

by Michael R. Miller

  Julian winked but said nothing.

  “Come now,” Merrick said. “There isn’t a moment to spare if you are to return to the palace when expected.”

  The Chevaliers led Cassandra east, further east in the city than she’d been before. They followed the outer walls until the rim of the basin began to naturally descend to the narrow inlet of the bay. Here the city barracks brimmed with new inhabitants, for the armies guarding the Southern Dales had returned for retraining. Soon they would be joining their fellows out east.

  For now, the roads were quiet; unnervingly quiet after the crush of the Rag Run. In fact, so quiet that Cassandra was worried the size of their company would draw attention from the few souls still out. Cassandra kept her head low and her hood up, staying close to Merrick as he led them on a winding route north towards the White Arch itself. Cassandra marvelled at its size. Its cresting bridge was a high white wave above the water, held aloft by strong chains from four towers that rose like twisting snow-covered mountains upon the banks of the bay. The sun was westward now, casting a deep shadow on the eastern side of the great arch. Merrick took them down into the depths of that shadow, to an old guardhouse at the base of one of the conical towers.

  Before the final approach, the dragon, Julian, made a hasty sweep of the vicinity. Only when he returned and curtly nodded did Merrick seem satisfied they had not been followed.

  An exchange of knocks was made at the doorway.

  A bird cawed above and Cassandra jumped as though a musket had gone off. Perched on the roof was a fierce eagle with white-tipped feathers. Cassandra mouthed ‘thank you’ to Kymethra. It was good of the witch to come.

  Merrick ended his tapping and the door swung inwards to a black beyond.

  “Inside. Quickly,” a gruff voice encouraged. Merrick bid her enter and Cassandra slipped inside ahead of the group.

  “Upstairs,” the doorman said.

  Light from under a doorway flickered at the top of the stairs and low voices filtered through from the other side. Steeling herself and clamping down on her nerves, she pushed on the door and marched confidently inside.

  Voices hushed. Heads turned.

  “You weren’t followed?” Clachonn asked.

  “Not to my knowledge, Lord,” Merrick said, striding in past her. His men filed in behind him.

  Clachonn clicked his tongue. “It was still a great risk.”

  “Greater than the risk we are taking already?” Cassandra said. She cast around to assess the extent of their activity. Their conspiracy looked a dull affair so far – a lot of papers, ledgers, and long calculations written in small numbers. There were few of them too. Oranna and her father were the only ones that Cassandra recognised. Besides them there was a short-haired huntress, unsurprisingly wearing the blue-green leather of the Hinterlands, the Chevaliers who had travelled with Cassandra, and a few nervous looking merchants. Those men were of the higher tier of their trade and wore the purple cloth to prove it. Kymethra would keep watch outside.

  The windows were closed, their shutters drawn, and dim lanterns cast pale shadows on every face, while a fusty smell of damp wood lay in the air.

  “So,” Cassandra finally said, striding forwards and placing her hands on her hips. Her mind betrayed her at the last moment, going blank. “Thank you all for coming.”

  Clachonn snorted. “I hope you have more to say than that, Princess.”

  “Well, you know the purpose of our meeting,” Cassandra said. “I’ll get straight to the point. This charter marks a turning point in the kingdom, one I doubt you wish to sign. If you want to stop Arkus, we’ll need to take action. Sooner rather than later.”

  “It might be too late for that,” Clachonn said. “Esselmont has already signed it, of course. Lord Reed has little choice. The lesser lords will fall one by one in time. Somerled will even have received a copy by now. He may hold off, but unless he wants to risk more serious repercussions—”

  “It sounds like you’ve already given in,” Cassandra said. “Surely this will only cause more harm in the years to come.”

  “I agree,” Clachonn said through gritted teeth. “Maybe not with Arkus, but one day some royal will overstep the mark with their new power. Yet we are hardly able to take direct action now.”

  Cassandra looked to Oranna for support.

  The Queen shrugged. “What do you want us to do, exactly?”

  “Gather support,” Cassandra urged. “You’re in the best place possible to do so. Build a bloc of nobles and powerful merchants,” she added, waving to those men at the back of the room. “And fight him in the Assembly Hall.”

  “You think he’d listen to reason?” Clachonn said.

  “I have to hope so,” Cassandra said. “He won’t listen to me alone. He thinks he’s doing the right thing, after all, but if enough of you stand together—”

  “When Arkus sets his mind on something, it usually happens,” said Clachonn. “I agree something should be done. My own father would turn in his grave if he thought our lands were being handed freely over to the Crown.”

  One of the merchants spoke up. “Such measures also concern us, Princess. If Arkus has control over which lands he returns to his peers, he will gain unprecedented power of trade routes and borders. He could keep the most profitable avenues for himself.”

  “It is well that the Merchants Guilds join the cause,” Clachonn said. “Though the old and newer families of the kingdom have locked horns over the years, this is a chance to unite for a change. We’ll need them on side if we hope to take control of the capital, even if our chances of doing so in the first place are slim.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” The short-haired huntress finally spoke up, pushing herself off the wall that she had been leaning on. “The King intends to sail east as soon as he can. If the bulk of the army goes with him that makes things possible. And I know of another army in the Highlands that might be called upon. A whole legion of dragons and fairy flyers. If it came to a coup—”

  “Absolutely not,” Clachonn’s tone offered no rebuke. “Using dragons and fairies would look like a foreign take over, never mind placing Queen Kasselle and King Darnuir in untenable positions.”

  Cassandra was still in a daze from the huntress’s words. The army she described sounded like the task force that Darnuir had sent to aid the Ochnic and his people.

  “How do you know this?” Cassandra asked.

  “Because Garon led that bizarre host of his through my territory on their way north,” she said. “Name’s Romalla, Princess.”

  “Captain Romalla was due in Brevia for a gathering at the Master Station,” Clachonn explained. “I thought her input would be of value.”

  “Let’s be clear,” Oranna began, “We’re not planning military action. Are we?”

  “No, of course not,” Cassandra said. “Why would I? He is my father, after all. I don’t want him cast down, just reined in.”

  Clachonn bit his lip, and Merrick shuffled uneasily.

  Both Cassandra and Oranna said together. “What is it?”

  Clachonn’s eyes darted between his daughter and Cassandra, unsure who to address first. He landed on Cassandra.

  “Princess,” he began, speaking slowly in his search for the right words, “Once we start down a difficult path such as this, I’m afraid there is no telling where it might end. Your father is a stubborn and proud man. Both Boreac and Annandale tried to use their words at first too, I remember. And look where they ended up.”

  “Then we do nothing,” Oranna snapped. “I don’t know why I agreed to this meeting in the first place, Cass. It’s ludicrous. The father of my son, my own father, you, or countless others could be harmed. This is the exact reason why I want to get away from the city. There’s so much bad blood as it is.” She looked imploring at Clachonn. “You agree with me, don’t you, father?”

 
Clachonn faltered again, licking his lips and fiddling with a button on his waistcoat.

  “I’m afraid, you both have valid points. Truthfully, I’d rather return home as well but this charter is an insult, and a dangerous start on a far more slippery slope. While there is no need to envision rash action, we should start to build our alliances and take full advantage of Arkus’ absence in the east to create a barrier against him.”

  Cassandra’s heart skipped a beat.

  “This does mean we’ll have to remain in the capital for some time,” Clachonn said.

  Her heart soared. He’d said what she’d hoped he’d say. She couldn’t help but grin.

  “That’s such good news,” Cassandra blurted out. Oranna’s attention turned on her like a bird of prey, eyes narrowing darkly. “I’m so relieved we can agree upon this, Lord Clachonn,” she added, trying to recover. She added a little curtsy but Oranna’s glare did not abate.

  Clachonn, however, was waving his merchant friends over. “Alastair, Owen, I’ll need your help in reaching out to the Guild at large. Those with the most to lose will be a good start and make sure that mountainous glut Tarquill doesn’t catch wind of any of this. Merrick,” he spun to find his right-hand man, “We’ll need to know of any other Chevaliers we might rely on. Avoid those with connections to the Golden Crescent. Esselmont’s grip there is too firm. Also—”

  Oranna seized Cassandra by the arm, pulling her attention away from Clachonn.

  “Can we talk privately for a moment?” Her tone implied it was not a question.

  Taken aback, Cassandra nodded and allowed Oranna to drag her out to the darkened stairwell, where the fading light of day cast hysterical shadows upon the Queen’s face. Oranna’s hands were shaking and she drew on a small hipflask with a sigh.

  “It smells extra strong today,” Cassandra said, attempting a friendly tone.

  “Oh, spare me, girl. I’ll be carrying a bottle before long if you and father keep driving me to distraction with this madness.”

  “Nothing bad will come of it,” Cassandra said. “If enough people stand opposed to Arkus, he’ll have to bend.”

  “I know fine well why you’re doing this,” Oranna said. “You’ve been acting strangely ever since I told you I was planning on leaving the city.”

  Her stomach knotted in a ball of shame, like a child caught red-handed at some mischief.

  “I — I—” She stumbled over her words. It was condemning enough.

  “Well, I hope you’re happy.”

  Cass stood her ground. “Do you know what, I am. How awful of me to not want to see you and Thane go. Admit it, you’d have spun out your trip into years.”

  “If I had it would have been my right to do so. It’s my life. He’s my son.”

  “He’s my little brother.”

  “Half-brother,” Oranna corrected. “And don’t you think it would have been good for him to see more of the world? Learn of the kingdom? Meet others his own age? No. I imagine you didn’t.” She looked Cassandra up and down with eyes alight with indignation. “Father was right. Truly, you are Arkus’ daughter. You know what you want and you’ll make damn sure you get it. Screw the consequences.”

  Those words cut Cassandra to the bone. The last thing she wanted was Oranna to think less of her.

  “Oranna, please—”

  “No, I’ve had enough for one day,” she said. Her eyes darted to the window and the darkening world beyond. “You’d better get back for dinner or he’ll get suspicious.”

  “Aren’t you coming too?”

  “I’ll remain with my father this evening, I think. I need to make what few decisions about my life and whereabouts that I still can.” And with another swig on her hipflask, Oranna stormed back inside the conspirator’s room.

  Cassandra stood frozen as all the elation she had felt just minutes ago was sapped away.

  Merrick emerged onto the stairs with her, looking sheepish. “The Queen has instructed we escort you back to the palace.”

  She forced a strained smile and nodded. She’d done the right thing. She had to remember that. Even if Oranna hated her right now, she’d thank her in the years ahead when Thane’s reign was more secure, more peaceful. She had to keep telling herself that.

  “Thank you, Merrick,” she said softly. “Let’s not delay. Night is already falling.”

  Chapter 20

  DINNER WITH ARKUS

  “Break bread, not bones.”

  — A fairy saying

  Cassandra – Oranna’s Parlour

  IT WAS WELL after dark when she arrived at the palace. Fresh clothes and a wash of her face wouldn’t have gone amiss. Spending half a day in the heat trap of the Rag Run had done her little favours, but time was short. And the door to Oranna’s parlour was already open when she arrived.

  A candelabra with a white marble base sat at the centre of the dinner table. Arkus and Thane awaited her, dressed in their finest black robes, looking like two dark rain clouds against the rainbow of Oranna’s coloured walls.

  “Cassandra, you’re late,” Thane accused in mock anger, beaming all the same. “Come sit next to me.”

  “Your sister should sit opposite you, Thane, as is custom.”

  Thane huffed. “Must we sit so neatly. Let Cassandra move her chair, father, please.”

  Arkus eyed Cassandra for a moment, taking in her heavy breathing, the sweat across her reddened face, her less than formal attire. A tense second followed. Cassandra was sure his gaze pierced right to her heart and saw all her secrets laid bare. Then it passed with a chuckle from the King.

  “By all means. We can forego formalities amongst ourselves. If Cassandra does not mind?”

  “Not at all,” Cassandra said, dragging her intended chair around to sit beside Thane.

  “Good and mother can sit beside you,” Thane said.

  “I fear mother will be late as well,” Arkus said. He raised his full glass of red and took a measured sip. “Perhaps she is spending the evening with grandpa Clachonn?”

  Cassandra’s heart thumped painfully. “I’m sorry I’m late,” she said in a rush. “There was such a gathering in the Rag Run, it took ages to gain some semblance of order before we could ensure everyone got their equal share. The people, father, they were frightened and desp—”

  Arkus threw up his free hand. “It’s no matter. You were performing your duty and you’re here now.” He set his glass down carefully, pondering for a moment. Then he rose. “I think I shall move as well. I’d like to sit across from my children.” He picked up his chair, brought it silently around the table to sit opposite Thane and Cassandra, leaving his plate and cutlery forgotten. Arkus looked upon them with a strange intensity, as though he was seeing them again after a long absence. Then he clasped his hands.

  “I’m starving. Who’s ready to eat?”

  “Meeee,” Thane cried.

  Cassandra’s stomach rumbled now she thought about it. “Me too.”

  “Well, let’s begin. And if the Queen doesn’t join us till later, all the more food for us.” He winked for good measure. “Thane, would you like to do the honours?”

  He passed Thane a little brass bell. Thane took it with glee, ringing it with surprising restraint. It echoed like hailstones against a window, and a concealed servant’s door opened to reveal two footmen in black velvet waistcoats. They glided in, carrying fat silver dishes and crystal decanters of water. Without instruction or question, they rearranged the plates and cutlery to suit the new arrangement and set their burdens down. The final piece was a gleaming boat of green sauce; the smell of mint rising strongly from it. Yet it was nothing compared to the smells released as the lids of the dishes were raised. Racks of lamb, speared with garlic and dripping in their sweet roasting juices. The second dish was revealed to be piled vegetables, glistening in butter. The third; fresh baked ros
emary-bread.

  The mix was so intoxicating, it alighted some primal need to feast.

  More guilt stabbed at her. Cassandra had spent the morning giving little better than scraps out as royal charity. And this was her reward.

  Arkus helped Thane load his plate before piling food onto his own and taking his first bite, all while Cassandra sat in a dilemma.

  “Isn’t there a shortage of food?”

  Arkus slowed in his chewing. “Let’s not worry over that tonight. The Kingdom won’t be doomed because we have one fine meal together.”

  “But—”

  “Cassandra,” Arkus said, a low flash of anger in his eye. “Every day I deal with these matters. I had hoped not to hear it tonight as well.”

  Cassandra withheld her response, forcing a smile before taking some of the lamb. Giving herself a smaller portion in protest.

  Arkus finished his mouthful and took another sip of wine. “So, Thane, I’ve not heard you awake at nights as often lately. You’re looking much stronger these days.”

  “Uh huh,” Thane said, attacking his meat. “Nanny Olive reckons I am growing too. She says I shall need bigger robes soon.”

  “Indeed,” Arkus said. “Well, I shall speak to the Ms Olive about it. And while we’re at it, maybe we should measure you for your first set of mail as well?” He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

  Thane’s grin did not disappoint. “Really, father? Mail and my own swo – swo—” in his excitement he descended into coughs and splutters. Arkus hastened to pour some water and Cassandra passed the goblet to the Prince. Thane resurfaced, drank some water, and carried on as though nothing had happened.

  “Do you mean it?”

  “I do,” Arkus said, though his tone was more cautious now. “A light set of mail, mind. Just enough to help build your strength while you train. An hour each day with Gellick, and we’ll see how you do. I’ll try to come watch you, when I can.”

  “Will you, truly?” Thane said.

  “As much as I can,” Arkus said. “I’ve been an absent father of late. But some things are important. It’s necessary to remember who your family are and be there for them. Not to let them down.”