“How did you find out they were after me?”
“Raegar came storming into the tavern tonight. He was red in the face and sweating. He looked scared. He said he had to cancel the job. It was all right if the man-beasts killed Acronis, but they couldn’t kill a man named Skylan. The man-beasts asked if they would still get paid and he said yes. But after he left, they left, too. I asked the woman where they went and she said they were going to do the job anyway. Raegar wanted you alive but someone else wanted you dead and was paying them more money. I didn’t hear, because I ran off to warn you.”
Skylan shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense. First Raegar plots to kill me and then he tries to keep me from being killed. And then someone else tries to kill me! I wonder why I’m suddenly so valuable?”
Wulfe yawned a huge yawn, cracking his jaws. “I don’t know. Can I go to sleep now?”
Skylan nodded. Wulfe curled up in a corner of the tent and closed his eyes. Skylan started to leave him, then thought better of it, and lay down on the cot. It occurred to him that he could never leave Wulfe by himself again.
The light still flickered from the oil lamp. Skylan was too tired to get back up and blow it out. Besides, he didn’t feel like being left in darkness. Not after what he’d heard. He was closing his eyes when a voice softly calling his name sent a lightning bolt through his body.
“Skylan?” Aylaen said from outside the tent. “Are you in there? I need to talk to you.”
Skylan jumped to his feet and flung open the tent flap.
“I’m sorry if I woke you . . . ,” Aylaen said.
The sky was starting to turn gray in the east. She looked worn out. Her clothes were disheveled. Her hair was rumpled, her eyes sunken in her head.
“I wasn’t asleep. Look,” said Skylan. “It’s Wulfe. He’s back.”
“Oh, thank goodness!” Aylaen said. She crept over to him, gently smoothed the hair from his face. “He’s so thin. Is he all right? Where has he been?”
“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later. What did you want to talk to me about?”
She stared at him. “You’re bleeding! What happened?”
Before Skylan could answer, she saw the bloody marks on his neck. “Did a dog bite you?”
“A wolf,” said Skylan.
“But you were at the Palace with the Legate. . . .”
“Again, long story. Please, tell me, why did you come?”
“I will get some of Treia’s potion,” Aylaen said, and she was out of the tent before he could stop her.
Skylan waited, his heart beating so rapidly he was having trouble breathing. When she didn’t return, he wondered if the potion had been an excuse for her to leave. He was almost sick with disappointment, when she opened the flap.
“It took me awhile to find it. Someone moved the chest it was in. Sit down. This will sting.”
Aylaen sat down beside Skylan on the cot. He was aware of her closeness, of her scent. Love and desire burned inside Skylan. She began to rub the potion on the wound. Her touch was chill, her fingers trembling. He felt her hand shake.
“I have to ask you something,” she said.
“You can ask me anything,” said Skylan. He turned to face her. “You know that.”
Aylaen flushed and lowered her eyes. “I need to know the secret for summoning the Vektan dragons.”
Skylan wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. “What?”
“I know Draya told you the secret,” Aylaen said desperately. “You have to tell me. You have to!”
Her voice softened. She reached out to him.
“Please, Skylan!” she said tremulously. “Please tell me! You must! Or else . . .”
“Or else what?” Skylan asked, puzzled.
Aylaen bit her lip and shook her head. The flush had gone from her face, leaving her pale and shivering. “Nothing. I need to know. That’s all. You have to trust me.”
Skylan began to pick up the pieces. Raegar summoned Aylaen to the Temple and paid to have me killed. Raegar suddenly tries to stop his hired killers and is extremely upset when he’s told that it’s too late. Aylaen now comes asking me about the secret of the Vektan dragons.
“Raegar has one of the Vektia spiritbones,” said Skylan.
Aylaen gasped and drew back from him. “How did you know?”
How did he know? He saw again the Goddess Vindrash standing on the ship holding up her hand. The five fingers spread wide.
Wulfe stirred on his cot and gave a little whimper.
“Come outside,” said Skylan.
Aylaen ducked beneath the tent flap. She stood outside the tent, her arms tightly clasped, her face tense and strained in the pale light of the coming morning.
“Why does Raegar want to know the ritual?” he asked.
“He claims something dire is about to happen, an attack or invasion or something. He says he wants Treia to summon the dragon to protect their people.”
“You don’t believe that,” said Skylan.
“It doesn’t matter what I believe. I have to tell them what they want to know.”
“And you won’t tell me why.”
“You have to trust me, Skylan,” Aylaen said in a low voice. “You do trust me, don’t you?”
“You know I do—”
“Then tell me the secret.”
Skylan wanted to think, an idea was gnawing at his mind. “Have you seen this spiritbone? Do you know where it is being kept?”
“Treia knows,” said Aylaen. She stared off into the east where the faint light of the rising sun was causing the stars to fade. “She has seen it. Treia told me the spiritbone is in a vault in the Shrine protected by Aelon. No unbeliever can enter that shrine. Aelon will strike him down.”
But anyone wanting to summon the dragon would have to take the spiritbone out of the Shrine. Skylan’s excitement grew. He could see the hand of Vindrash bringing all the threads together. There was just one problem.
“I do trust you, Aylaen,” said Skylan slowly. “I would trust you with my life. And I would tell you the secret of the Vektan dragons—”
She turned to him with an eager smile, her green eyes shining.
Skylan shook his head. “But I don’t know it.”
Aylaen glared at him. “Don’t lie to me, Skylan. Of course, you know the secret! Garn told me you know it!”
“Garn told you?” Skylan repeated, amazed.
Aylaen flushed and bit her lip.
“I don’t remember Garn and I ever talking about Vektan dragons,” Skylan said.
“Well, you must have,” said Aylaen irritably. She avoided his eyes.
And then it all came back to him.
After his return from the disastrous confrontation with the druids and the death of his wife, Draya, her corpse had come to Skylan and forced him to play the dragonbone game. She had begun her turn by throwing down five bones, an unusual move. Skylan had spoken of it to the old wise woman, Owl Mother, who had said perhaps the number itself was significant. Skylan had asked Garn if he knew why the number five should be special.
“All he could think of was that there were five Vektan dragons,” said Skylan. “That was the only time we ever spoke of it. I never said anything to him about knowing the secret to summoning the dragons.”
“Then Draya must have told you,” Aylaen said. “Wives tell their husbands everything.”
“Draya and I . . . weren’t really husband and wife,” said Skylan, ashamed.
“You have to know, Skylan! You have to!” Aylaen said desperately. “Garn said you knew!”
“I’m sorry, Aylaen,” said Skylan earnestly. “For your sake, I wish I did.”
Aylaen studied him intently, and then gave a low moan and buried her face in her hands. “What am I going to do?”
“Aylaen, I know you’re in some sort of trouble. Let me help you. Tell me what Raegar has done to you,” said Skylan. “I’ll confront him. I’ll make him talk. We’ll find a way to take the spiritbone, to st
eal it back—”
“No!” Aylaen cried, terrified. “No, you mustn’t! You don’t know what would happen if you did! And I can’t tell you.” She seized hold of his arm, dug her nails into his flesh. “Don’t do anything or say anything about this, Skylan, please! This is my problem. It’s my fault. I’m the only one who can fix it. Promise me you won’t say a word to anyone. Swear by Torval, Skylan. Swear!”
Skylan hesitated. “You can tell me, Aylaen.”
“Not this,” she said in hollow tones. “You would hate me forever!”
“That’s not possible,” said Skylan gently. “I love you, Aylaen. I have always loved you—”
“Then if you love me, swear,” Aylaen said in ragged tones. “Give me your promise.”
She took hold of his hands. Her fingers were colder than the fingers of the draugr. “Swear by Torval that you will tell no one what I have told you. Swear by Torval that you will forget everything I’ve said to you!”
“Aylaen, I can’t—”
“Swear!” she said, her voice grating.
“I swear by Torval,” said Skylan, and he put his hand to the amulet. “But you must swear to let me help you.”
“You can’t,” said Aylaen. “No one can help me. You don’t know the terrible thing I have done. Even the gods have turned their backs on me.”
She started to walk away, then looked back at him. “If you remember anything about the Vektia, come tell me.”
She walked off. Skylan considered going after her, trying to persuade her, but he feared he would only make matters worse. At least, he reflected, she had come to him when she was in trouble. She had talked to him as a friend, almost like the old days.
Skylan went back inside the tent and lay down on the cot. He had a lot to think about.
What struck him as truly odd was that Raegar and Treia, Aylaen and apparently Garn all believed he knew the secret to the Vektan dragons.
Skylan began to wonder uneasily if he did.
CHAPTER
18
* * *
BOOK TWO
Chloe did not send for Skylan the next day. He guessed that she was worried about her father. Acronis could not leave his bed, but he insisted that they hold Para Dix practice.
That turned out to be a mistake.
Keeper was grumpy and irritable from lack of sleep. Aylaen walked about in a daze, distracted and unhappy. Sigurd and the others were sullen and rebellious. Skylan worried about Wulfe, afraid that Raegar would find him, and spent half his time trying to remember everything Draya had said to him about Vektan dragons.
Keeper yelled at them until he was hoarse and used his fists freely on everyone except Aylaen, telling her balefully that he was leaving her to her goddess.
The end came when one of the Southlander players called the Torgun “stupid savages.” Sigurd knocked the man to the ground. The other Southlander jumped him. Grimuir and Skylan both went to his aid and the fight was on. They were reveling in a glorious brawl when Skylan heard Zahakis call his name.
Skylan was tempted to ignore the summons, but sometimes the only way to get information was to give it.
Zahakis spent a moment looking out at the playing field where the soldiers and the Torgun and the Southlanders were beating the crap out of each other. Only Aylaen was not involved. She sat slumped on the grass, her arms resting on her knees, her head in her arms.
“What’s wrong with Aylaen?” Zahakis asked.
“Female trouble,” said Skylan, knowing that would end the questioning. No man ever wants to talk about female problems. Zahakis quickly changed the subject.
“You were going to talk to that boy of yours. Did you?”
Skylan had gone over what he would say, trying to juggle how much of the truth to reveal and how much to keep to himself. “This is the boy’s story. You can believe it or not. He claims that the wolves weren’t wolves. He says they are fae, what the boy calls man-beasts. He’s always claiming to know the fae. He talks to dryads and Oceanids. . . .”
“Like I said last night, these wolves didn’t act like any wolves I’ve ever seen,” Zahakis said, nodding his head. “What else did the kid say?”
Skylan was startled. He hadn’t expected Zahakis to believe him. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be believed.
“According to Wulfe, these man-beasts look like ordinary humans when they want to,” said Skylan. “They work as hired killers, using their beast form to murder people, making it seem as if their victims were torn apart by wild animals—”
“Like the guards who were taking the boy to the Temple,” Zahakis said, interrupting.
Skylan pretended he hadn’t heard and kept talking. He knew this next bit of information would capture the Tribune’s attention.
“Someone hired these man-beasts to kill the Legate. Raegar.”
“Raegar?” Zahakis repeated, staring. “Are you sure?”
“The boy saw him talking to the leader of these man-beasts and recognized him. Raegar told the man-beasts where to find the Legate. He told them Acronis would be on his way home from the Palace—”
“Where the Priest-General kept him talking until late into the night,” said Zahakis softly. “It all begins to make sense.”
“Priest-General?”
“Raegar’s only an arse-licker toady. He’s not allowed to think for himself. He’s acting on orders from above. Do you want proof? Those four yellow-bellied litter bearers fled into the night. They have the same tattoos that you have on your arm. Apparently they never felt a twinge when they ran off. Your arm burned, didn’t it? When you tried to defend the Legate?”
No, his arm hadn’t burned. But that was because Aelon wanted him alive because of the secret of the Vektan dragons. Skylan kept that bit of information to himself.
“I don’t suppose that boy of yours remembers the name of the tavern or could show us where it is,” Zahakis said. “I’d like to get a look at these man-beasts.”
Skylan shook his head. “If he does, he won’t tell me. He’s terrified of them. Afraid they’ll come after him.”
“Is he?” said Zahakis. “Who killed those Temple guards, Skylan? Ask yourself that. And then ask yourself if you want to keep that boy around.”
“Wait a moment, Tribune,” said Skylan, as Zahakis was about to walk off, “why would the Priest-General want to kill the Legate?”
“If Acronis dies, his wealth and property go to the Empire. And we all know who is really running the Empire these days.”
“What would happen to Chloe?”
“She would become a ward of the Empress.”
“What will the Legate do?” Skylan asked. “Will he leave Sinaria?”
“Acronis is no coward. He is needed here. Especially now. He won’t leave the people to the mercies of—”
Zahakis stopped, clearly having said more than he intended. “Aelon?” Skylan finished for him.
Zahakis grunted. He started again to walk off, then turned back. “You Torgun are going to disgrace yourself in the Para Dix. You know that, don’t you?”
“Ask me if I give a rat’s ass,” said Skylan.
“You will.” Zahakis smiled. “Because you can’t stand to be beaten. At anything.”
That night, when darkness fell and the soldiers on guard duty around the compound were involved in their gambling games, the Torgun sat on the deck of the Venjekar and talked in low voices about the possibility of escape. They would have their weapons and their shields. But they also had Aelon’s hated tattoo on their arms. Every warrior was strong in the belief that he could overcome the pain with an effort of will.
Sigurd wanted to form a plan, but, as Skylan pointed out, they were venturing into the unknown. They had no idea what this arena was like or where it was located, how many guards there would be, how many people. There were a myriad questions and no answers.
“All we know for certain is that we are Torgun,” said Skylan. “We stand together and if, by the blessing of Torval, a chance to escape ari
ses, we will take it.”
CHAPTER
1
* * *
BOOK THREE
The Para Dix was held once a month in an arena built especially for the game. Almost every person of noble rank, including the Empress, sponsored a team and entered that team in the contest. Acronis, as well as other members of nobility, actually participated in the game themselves, directing the movements of the game pieces. The Empress hired players, who directed the game play for her.
The entire day was devoted to the game. The people of Sinaria were given a holiday from work. The morning began with the dedication of the players to Aelon, a ceremony held in the public Temple. Aelon, through his priests, informed the players that they were fighting for his glory and he bestowed on them his blessing.
Acronis, foreseeing trouble from Skylan and his Torgun if they were forced to participate in this ceremony, kept his players from attending, pleading as his excuse that they were barbarians and might behave in an unseemly manner that Aelon would find offensive.
Priest-General Xydis officiated at the ceremony. The Temple was crowded, though most people had come to see their favorite champions, not to hear the prayers.
At the conclusion of the ceremony, Xydis sent word to Raegar to meet him in his private office. When Raegar arrived, Xydis made certain no one was in the hallway, then pulled the door shut and locked it. He rounded on Raegar.
“Legate Acronis came to me with a complaint. It seems several nights ago, after he left the Palace, he was set upon by a pack of wolves.”
I told the man-beasts that they were to kill only the Legate. I assured them they would still get paid. They must have decided to kill Skylan on their own,” said Raegar defensively.
“Relax,” said Xydis. “This isn’t your fault. The man-beasts were following the orders of another. Someone who does not want the secret of the Vektan dragons to be revealed. I have a spy among the man-beasts, a woman named Rea. She said someone else hired them to kill Skylan.”
Secret of the Dragon Page 27