The Silver Crown

Home > Other > The Silver Crown > Page 6
The Silver Crown Page 6

by Joel Rosenberg


  It's good to see you, he thought. I'm sorry you can't stay long.

  *Don't be too sorry. You'll be seeing a lot of me over the next few days. Chton and his Joiners have petitioned for a town meeting; Ahira said to tell you that he is—and I quote—"looking down the barrel of a vote of confidence" and that you are to—quoting again—"hie your ass Homeward, on the double." He's worried, Karl.*

  How about you?

  *I think it's going to be close. And with two hunter teams away, he could lose. Pity you didn't think to allow for proxy voting in the Constitution.*

  Well, if Thomas Jefferson didn't think of it, how would you expect me to?

  *I have higher expectations of you—*

  Thanks—

  *—despite the fact that you are a constant disappointment, and—*

  —a whole lot. Karl beckoned Chak over. "Which would you rather do: take a side trip Home with me, or run the team until Enkiar?"

  "Run the team?" Chak opened his mouth, then closed it. "Why me? Why not Slovotsky?"

  "I thought you don't like taking his orders."

  *He doesn't, but he didn't think you noticed that.*

  It's not polite to peek into somebody's mind without his permission.

  *True. Then again, dragons aren't particularly polite.*

  I've noticed.

  *Observant, aren't you?*

  "Well, Chak?"

  The little man shrugged. "I'd just as soon go Home with you, all things being equal."

  *Why are you bringing him Home?*

  Peep better. Tennetty says that he likes one of the new women. I want to give him a good shot at her, so to speak. It's about time Chak settled down and started a family. Can you reach Slovotsky?

  *Mmm . . . got him. He's on his way up.*

  Good. Relay, please: Nothing to worry about, Walter, but I've been called Home.

  Ellegon's mental interpretation of Walter's voice was even more animated than usual. *Trouble? Please don't let there be trouble—*

  Honest. No real trouble. It's just politics. I've got to kick some tails—

  *Metaphorically, for once,* Ellegon put in.

  Right. How would you feel about running the team until Enkiar?

  * "No objection, other than the obvious one . . ."—he wants to go Home, is what he's saying, Karl—" . . . but why not Chak?" *

  Relay: Because he's not married, and you are, and there are a couple of possible candidates that will be going home with Ellegon and me.

  * "Good idea. No problem; I'll keep things together." *

  Good. Hurry up and get up here. We're going to make this a quick turnaround.

  *Don't you want to know about your family?*

  There's nothing wrong with my family.

  The reason Karl hadn't asked Ellegon about his family wasn't that he didn't care—it was just the opposite. The dragon knew that giving him news of anything wrong with Aeia, Jason, or Andy-Andy took precedence over everything else; since Ellegon hadn't said anything, there wasn't any problem.

  *True.*

  He turned back to the dragon. "Any chance of Walter's running into any of our teams between here and Enkiar?"

  *None. The last of Daven's team have returned Home, and Aveneer is working the edge of the Katharhd. Hmmm, I'd better play mailman. If you'll excuse me?*

  "Sure."

  Ellegon raised his head. *Personal messages,* he announced, *for the following: Donidge, Ch'akresarkandyn, Erek, Jenree, Walter . . . *

  Karl always liked to watch people get their mail, although Ellegon was scrupulous about tuning him out. As the dragon relayed each message from home, the recipient's face would light up like a beacon.

  Chak's dark face broke into a wide smile as Ellegon gave him the message. He nodded three times, then sighed, a far-off look in his eyes.

  Karl waited until Chak's eyes cleared. "What's the news?"

  The little man shook his head, still smiling. "Your son says that I should be real sure not to get my fool ass killed. I think he's been spending too much time around U'len."

  "Probably."

  Walter arrived, almost breathless.

  Karl stuck out a hand. "We're taking off. Run things as you see best."

  "I always do."

  "But if you don't mind taking some advice . . . Ellegon says that you can't get jumped by any of our teams, but don't take chances. There may be some independents working the road between here and Enkiar. I'd rather you avoid them. Use roving point men, okay? Next, I want you to fill Henrad in, and have him go over the wizard's wagon, for magical traps, and—"

  "Hey, if you're leaving me in charge, you'd better trust me not to stab myself in the foot, eh?"

  "Right." He clapped a hand to Walter's shoulder. "Take care of things, okay?"

  "Sure. Kiss my wife for me—and kiss yours for me, too."

  Karl glared at him.

  Walter spread his hands. "Face it: I'm irrepressible."

  "Right." Karl helped Chak into the basket, then climbed up the rope ladder to the saddle on Ellegon's back and strapped himself in. "Everybody clear. Daherrin, are the straps okay?"

  "Tight and strong," the dwarf called back, as he finished belting Chak, Tennetty, and the two women into the basket, then tied down the tarpaulin, leaving only their heads peeking out.

  *You ready?*

  Home, James.

  *My name is Ellegon.* The dragon's wings blurred; he leaped skyward.

  Part Two:

  Home

  Chapter Four

  Karl's Day Off

  If a man insisted always on being serious, and never allowed himself a bit of fun and relaxation, he would go mad or become unstable without knowing it.

  —Herodotus

  *Almost Home. Close your eyes.*

  As they passed through the invisible barrier of the Spidersect wards, the air around the dragon shimmered and sparkled, reacting to Ellegon's partially magical metabolism.

  Even through his tightly closed eyes, Karl was dazzled, although the momentary discomfort was reassuring. The ragged circle of wards enclosing the valley didn't only prevent outside wizards from peering in, it also prevented anyone from carrying anything magical inside. Soon after Thellaren had set up the wards, three different assassin teams had tried to slip through, but even when they had no other magical implements, their healing draughts had tripped them up.

  Word had gotten out; there hadn't been an assassin team in the valley for more than three years.

  The light faded; Karl opened his eyes as Ellegon banked and turned, circling in.

  The valley spread out beneath them, the fields of corn and wheat a patchwork blanket, ragged toward the edges. Roads crisscrossed the valley like a spider's web, most of them crossing near the compound at the south end of the valley or just outside of Engineer Territory in the north.

  Ellegon lost altitude as he swooped across the lake, circling in toward what once had been the original compound and now housed the grainmill, silo, Karl and Andy-Andy's first house, and the former smithy, now used for receiving and settling new arrivals.

  The basket barely missing the sharp points of the compound's palisade, the dragon slowed, then hovered, lowering the basket to the ground with a gentle thump, then landing beside it.

  Karl unstrapped himself from the saddle, then turned to untie the basket's straps. He quickly slid down the dragon's side to help Chak, Tennetty, and the two women out and onto the ground. They left the slaver inside. There was no rush about him.

  "Solid ground," Tennetty breathed. She favored Karl with a smile. "I think solid ground is one of my favorite things in the world."

  Chak stretched broadly. "I know what you mean."

  "Hey," Karl said. "No complaints. Next time Ellegon'll let you walk."

  "Karl's Day Off. I don't see you," Tennetty said, jerking her thumb toward the Old House. "I'll take Jilla and Danni through Receiving and see that the prisoner is properly guarded—my word."

  "I can finish up—"

&
nbsp; "Karl's Day Off," Chak said, nodding. "Go."

  "But the powder. I've got to get that to—"

  "The Engineers," Chak said. "And you want Riccetti briefed. Consider it done, kemo sabe. It's Karl's Day Off—begone!"

  Chak and Tennetty turned and walked away as though Karl simply weren't there.

  *You seem to have difficulty winning arguments with people you care about.* Ellegon chuckled mentally.

  "Really? I never noticed," Karl said.

  *Sarcasm doesn't become you. School will be letting out shortly. I'm going swimming.*

  "But there's . . . I give up." Karl threw up his hands. "You win. I'll go change, then join you." He jogged over to the Old House, deliberately ignoring the three millworkers who were deliberately ignoring him.

  Early on, Andy-Andy had insisted on a few luxuries for Karl, for fear that if he didn't claim them firmly enough, he'd never get even a taste of them. One of the most important was Karl's Day Off.

  The rule was this: Despite whatever was going on at Home, regardless of the fact that there were usually five to ten people who wanted to see him the instant he got back, Andy-Andy had made it clear that Karl was not to be bothered by anyone except members of his immediate family for a full day after returning Home.

  It had become almost ritualistic; citizens would pretend not to see him, treating him as though he were invisible.

  Shutting the door behind him, he unbuckled his swordbelt and hung it on a peg, then untied the amulet from his neck, stowing it safely behind the top door of a crude bureau. It wasn't necessary to keep the amulet on his person at Home; the entire valley was under the wards' protection.

  Hopping on alternate legs he loosened his boots and kicked them toward a corner, then stripped, slipping on a pair of shorts and tucking a towel, shirt, a pair of drawstring jeans, and sandals under his arm before exiting the Old House and jogging the few hundred yards to the lake.

  Down the beach, Ellegon had already set down in the water just beyond the end of the schoolhouse's dock. Only his huge head and a portion of his back rose above the clear, cold water, and both were almost concealed by the crowd of half-naked children swarming over him.

  Relay, please: Andy?

  *She knows you're home, but she's busy. Leave her alone while you get clean.*

  Good idea. Karl dropped his bundle of clothing to the hot sands and dashed for the water.

  As always, it was far colder than he'd remembered. The lake was fed by the icy streams that trickled down from the mountains; as he entered the water, he wondered for the thousandth time if it was possible that ice melted at minus forty on This Side.

  He forced himself to run into the water until it reached his waist, then dove headfirst and set off with a clumsy but powerful breaststroke toward the dock and the dragon.

  If God had ever set out to create the perfect swimming companion for adult or child, Ellegon would have been it. With the dragon around, there was no need for a buddy system to ensure that any head going under the water surfaced with a live body attached. Ellegon would simply order any overtired child—or adult—out of the water, and nobody was interested in flouting his orders.

  Well, almost nobody; Jason was a special case.

  But Ellegon wasn't just a lifeguard.

  *Care for a dive?*

  As Karl reached the dragon, he set his feet against Ellegon's right forward knee and stood, rising half out of the water. He shook his head to clear the wet hair from his eyes, making a mental note that he'd better get another haircut, and soon.

  *I asked if you would care for a dive.*

  "Sure."

  Ellegon carefully shook a pair of twelve-year-olds from his head, then craned his long neck so that Karl could step onto it.

  Gently, this time. Wouldn't do for the kids to see me scream in terror.

  The scales slippery beneath his feet, Karl stood gingerly and flexed his knees, balancing himself just behind the dragon's eye ridges. Ellegon quickly straightened his neck and tossed his head, sending Karl flipping head over heels forty feet into the air. Karl stretched out his arms, air-braking into a swan dive as he fell; he pulled himself into a tuck, then straightened as he slammed feet first into the water, slipping down into the dark iciness, rebounding gently off the sandy bottom of the lake.

  As his head broke the surface, a slim arm snaked around his neck, a hand pressed hard against the back of his head, and a pair of firm young breasts pressed against his back, while powerful thighs scissored his waist.

  "Hi!" Aeia said, kissing him on the back of the neck while firmly endeavoring to force his head underwater. "You're back."

  "I noticed." She's getting a bit too old for this, he thought, far more conscious of her young body than was comfortable. He took a quick, deep breath, and dove.

  *Do you want to know what's really going on in her head?*

  No. Don't peep my family for me.

  He'd caught her by surprise this time, diving before Aeia had the chance to grab a breath; she released her grip before he ran out of air.

  He surfaced, blocked her next try, then grabbed her by the wrist and spun her around, pushing her toward the dock. "Go put on your halter."

  "For swimming? Don't be such a—"

  He forced a grim expression to his face. "Do it. Now."

  She pouted and swam away, slipping seallike out of the water and onto the dock, then padding sullenly toward the schoolhouse, adjusting her shorts as she did.

  What am I going to do about this?

  *As I understand it, a bit of repressed sexuality between father and daughter is normal, whether the daughter is adopted or not.*

  Where did you get that bit of bullshit?

  *From the usual place: your head. Psych 101. Remember?*

  Oh.

  *One bit of advice, if you don't mind?*

  Yes?

  *It would be best for everyone if it's kept repressed. Adopted daughter or not, a husband really shouldn't cheat on a wife who can turn him into a toad.*

  Well, Andy-Andy couldn't really turn him into a toad, but the dragon had a point.

  "Right." He looked around, then quickly submerged to avoid the outstretched hands of three boys and two girls who had apparently decided that it was time to drown Karl Cullinane. He swam underwater, ducking under Ellegon's broad belly, then surfaced on the other side. Is she still busy? Where's Jason?

  *She kept him after school. If you ask my opinion—*

  Which I didn't. But I have a hunch I'll receive the benefit of it anyway.

  *Good guess. I think she's too strict with him. Karl, he's only six years old. Just—*

  Ellegon was interrupted by the pounding of feet on the dock and a sudden splash.

  *Not again!* The dragon ducked his head underwater and came up with the wriggling form of Jason Cullinane in his mouth, then carefully spat the coughing boy onto the pier.

  Clearly forcing himself to stop coughing, Jason straightened.

  *He says that he's fine. I'm giving him a bit of hell.*

  Good for you.

  With the sole exception of Jane Michele Slovotsky, Karl had never really been impressed with children. The so-called special things about them were clearly parents' illusions, born of parents' need to feel special.

  Jason, on the other hand, was special. It wasn't just that he had Andy-Andy's knowing brown eyes and smooth olive skin, or that the boy's straight brown hair was somehow finer than hair had any right to be. Even at six, Jason Cullinane had developed his own skewed ideas about what was right and wrong, which tended to be resistant to anything short of force majeure, and were completely immune to a father's attempts at reason.

  What was simultaneously convenient and completely infuriating was that Jason, who could give a donkey stubbornness lessons as far as Karl was concerned, was easily influenced by his peers, and would obey Ellegon almost readily.

  *You're not old enough to keep the water out of your nose when you jump unless you hold your nose. Until I tell you othe
rwise, I want you to hold your nose when you jump into the water. I am not going to pull you out again,* the dragon threatened.

  *I am lying through my many teeth,* he said to Karl in a mental aside.

  I know.

  Jason wiped his nose and sniffed; his brown eyes grew vague.

  *Talk with your mouth. I want your father to hear you promise.*

  "I'm sorry, Ellegon," he said. "I won't do it again."

  Karl swam over to the dock and pulled himself onto the hot wood. "Hi there."

  "Hi, Daddy." Jason walked over to where Karl stood and stuck out a tiny hand.

  "What's this?"

  "Wanna shake hands."

  "What? Jase—"

  "Too old to kiss. Only babies do that."

  "Who says?"

  "Mikyn says."

  "He does, does he? Well, whoever Mikyn is, he's wrong. He—"

  "Is not. Shake hands."

  Karl shrugged and sadly accepted the boy's hand in his. "Well, if you're too old, you're too old. What's new?"

  "Can I go play?"

  Karl could almost have cried. Well, when he was six years old, a lake with a dragon in it would have been a lot more interesting than talking with a father. "Sure."

  Before the word was halfway out of his mouth, Jason was already jumping into the water, this time holding his nose.

  Karl sighed, then turned and walked down the dock to the schoolhouse. It was a single-roomed building, the classroom roughly the same size as those that had been used on the Other Side since the Sumerians invented schools. While the walls were of good pine, and the benches and desks solidly built, the windows were of smoky, barely translucent glass. Glassmaking was one of the crafts that Home was still deficient in.

  At the far end of the room, Aeia and Andy-Andy were crouched in front of a young boy, perhaps two years older than Jason, who was seated on Andy-Andy's chair, shaking his head.

  Seeing her always brought it back to him: A smile really could brighten a room. She fingered the bend in her ever so slightly too large nose as she listened to Aeia talking with the boy.

  Andy-Andy's frown spoke volumes: She was unhappy, but not with either Aeia or the boy.

 

‹ Prev