King's Dragon: Chronicles of the Dragon-Bound: Book 2

by William Culbertson

  “Confine her in the stockade,” Dax ordered. “She has a broken arm and possibly other injuries. Do not take her to the medical tent,” he emphasized. “Have the medic come to the stockade to look after her after she is locked up.” He paused a moment and noticed one of her guards holding her good arm gently to help her walk. “Treat her as you would a viper,” he snapped. “She is an assassin.” The guard jerked his hand away, and Lady Aylssandra stumbled on without help.

  #

  They had just finished the evening meal when Dax received a summons to the palace. Although he had a long list of tasks yet to complete that evening, Dax left immediately. Queen Layna was not the sort to send for him on a whim. Perhaps she had received a message from the lancers at the pass? Maybe the troops from Bright Bay would arrive sooner than expected? He put the thoughts and speculations out of his mind and hurried into the city.

  There was nothing formal this time. A servant took him directly to the queen’s sitting room. Only after Dax had entered and the servant had closed the door behind him did he notice the figure of the queen slumped in a large chair in the corner. As he approached her, she looked up. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes red. She looked tired, and for the first time, Dax noticed lines of stress on her face.

  “They’re dead,” she said without preamble.

  The statement caught him by surprise. “Who?” he finally managed to blurt out. Had she heard from the pass? Who was dead?

  She put her hand to her forehead, then rubbed down across her eyes. “The children,” she finally breathed. She looked up at him with watery, but challenging eyes. “And many of the mothers.”

  The room was suddenly cold. “Could you explain?”

  Queen Layna sighed and got to her feet. She began to pace, but said nothing for a time. “With all the turmoil, I wanted to keep life inside the palace as normal as circumstances allowed.” Her pacing turned into a slow circuit of the room. She reached out to touch some of the objects on display. She stopped and turned to face him. “We had a birthday party for the archduke’s grandson. It must have been the berry tarts. All but one person who ate a berry tart is dead. Only Lady Dorra is left, and she is deathly ill.”

  “Poison?” Dax was certain, but he had to ask.

  Absently, the queen said, “I have never been able to stand tarts myself, so I stayed with the sweet cakes.” She looked at him, eyes hot. She nodded. “Yes. That is my guess.”

  Dax thought for a moment and made a connection. “It was meant for you.”

  “Me?” she replied, then fell silent. After a time, she nodded. “Yes, if the regent is out of the picture, who rules the city?” She looked at him, distressed. “All the other royals are gone as well.” She looked to the window and stared into the darkness. “All the children,” she whispered with a catch in her voice. She looked back at Dax, and this time there was cold fire in her eyes. “Who?” she asked. “Who would do such a thing?”

  Dax was shocked at the news that the royals who had stayed behind in the city were dead. All the rest of the royalty and most of the nobility were on their way to Drundevil Pass to confront the Tharans. Although Dax knew the queen had asked a rhetorical question, he had the answer. “Aylssandra,” he stated. “I’m sure she is your poisoner.”

  The queen’s head jerked back and her eyes burned into his. “Her?” she hissed, and after a moment she asked, “How do you know?”

  “Aylssandra tried to assassinate me this afternoon,” Dax replied. “The blade was discolored, and I assumed it to be poisoned. She had several small packets of powder concealed in her clothing as well.”

  Queen Layna’s eyes were still red, but now they were hot with anger. “You were not injured?” she asked, looking at him closely.

  “No.” Dax shook his head and continued. “Thankfully Kahshect was there. He knocked her down and stood on her. It wasn’t much of a fight.” Dax did not mention how close she had come to him with her knife. “Aylssandra is confined in the stockade at the Ugori camp.” He let the corner of his mouth turn up with the start of a dark smile. “Somewhat the worse for the encounter.”

  The queen looked at him for a time, obviously thinking. “I want her transferred to the palace dungeons.” She clenched her fists. “My Ugori side wants to take her fine porcelain skin off and stretch it on West Gate to dry.” As cold and hard as she looked when she said it, Dax did not doubt her. “However, East Landly has laws,” she sighed and stretched her fingers out again. “Perhaps when this is all over, with your help, we can get the truth out of her.” She paused. “Then I’ll skin her.” She looked sharply at Dax. “In the meantime, I want her where she can cause no more problems.”

  Although he had been listening to the queen, Dax had been thinking as well. “Now I’m more convinced than ever the Tharans are coming. They meant to leave the city leaderless. That would put the kingdom completely adrift if they defeat the lancers.”

  She looked at him, now doubly distressed. “You are certain of this?”

  “Certain? No. But too many clues point to them having a plan to win through the pass and bring the fight to the city itself.”

  Dax’s mind was awhirl. All his plans had to change. He had to consider the fate of civilians in the city as well as the military forces. With a threat of attack on Frohliem City, disorder could break out among the citizens. Word of the poisoning would spread, and the people would be unsettled. If news came that the Tharan army had gotten through the pass, the lancers would be gone. Civil authority could fall apart. The Ugori could not control the city. The people would never accept their authority. The local constabulary was only a small force, all that had been needed with the large numbers of lancers in the area. If the Tharans threatened the city, food riots or worse might occur. The city needed strong leadership to keep the citizens organized and purposeful in their defense.

  He paused and looked at her. He drew himself up to attention. “Your Majesty. I ask that you give me command of the defense of Frohliem City. I will do my best to ensure the safety of you and the other citizens. I will relinquish command at your order or at the end of the crisis.” His words were still echoing in his ears when he realized the path the Goddess had set him on was now a slippery, downward chute—and he was tumbling along it.

  The queen returned to the chair she had been in when Dax had entered the room, but this time she sat on it as a queen would sit on a throne. “Commander Daxdendraig, I ask you to take command of the defense of Frohliem City. If the Tharans are coming, the city and the kingdom of East Landly are in grave danger. I am the only royal blood in the city still standing, and I know nothing of warfare.”

  It was done. Dax had his command. He knelt and bowed his head to the queen. “Your Majesty, I accept your order to keep this city and this kingdom safe. I will begin preparations for the defense of the city. The Ugori troops will depart tomorrow. If the Tharans win through the pass, the Ugori will disrupt and slow their march as much as our numbers allow.” He thought for a moment. “There will be resistance in the city to some of the steps I must take. My first action will be to recall to service all retired lancers. We must build the numbers of constables and street wardens. I will also have to have say over food and other important supplies.”

  “I will back you in what you do.” The queen nodded. “But you must keep me informed. I expect to hear many complaints from the great houses. If I know what you are doing, I will do my best to keep them out of your way.” She looked down, and Dax saw weariness on top of her grief. Her lock of white hair fell forward, and she impatiently pushed it back. Tonight Dax did not see the white hair as a sign of age. Tonight it made him think of a badger cornered in its den.

  She looked up again with new fire in her eyes. “There’s one more thing, and it will help with the defense of the city.” She stood up and strode to the door with a preemptive motion for Dax to follow. She led him through corridors and down stairways until they came to the Royal Exhibit Hall next to the Grand Throne Room. Two guar
ds were on duty outside the double doors. When they saw their queen approaching, they took hold of the ornately scrolled handles and pulled the doors open. The heavy doors’ hinges groaned as they swung wide. Dax followed the queen inside. The room was dimly illuminated, but he glimpsed shelves and tables filled with exhibits of all kinds: trophies, tributes, and reminders of glories past. Three candles burned in sconces on the wall in front of them.

  Queen Layna walked directly toward the candles. As they approached, Dax saw that the candles illuminated a shield hanging in the center of an open space. The shield was larger than standard. The metal surface was tarnished and scuffed but not dented. She took it down and handed it to Dax. Her eyes challenged him. “The Shield of Frohliem, defender of the realm. Three times it has been used when the kingdom was in peril.”

  Dax’s eyes widened in surprise. He took the object reverently from the queen’s hands. Everyone had heard of Frohliem’s Shield, and now he held it in his hands. Turning it over, he saw it truly was made completely of metal, but it weighed no more than a light wooden practice shield. The metal was yellowish silver, and the shield came to a spiked central point on the front. Although light, legend said it was impregnable to weapons of all kinds. Not only could it turn aside blades, but the pointed central spine could deliver a damaging blow itself.

  “Every citizen of East Landly knows this shield,” the queen said, interrupting his inspection. “They will see you with the shield and know you carry it to defend the kingdom. It will answer many questions before they are asked.”

  Dax nodded. “I agree. The shield will make my job easier, but I will bear it only as long as the threat lasts. This treasure will go back on the wall.”

  She looked at him bleakly. “The shield has never fallen in battle. I just pray this hall will be here for its return.” She sighed. “Thank you, Dax. Now I must return to my chambers.”

  She swept by him and out of the room. Dax took a moment more to look around the large space. Someday he would like to spend hours examining the history in this room, but he had work to do. The queen’s figure disappeared down the Grand Hall. She had given him the mightiest symbol in the kingdom to wield. The shield itself was not weighty, but the responsibility he carried was heavy.

  Chapter 14

  “So what I want to know, are the Tharans comin’ or not?” Due Ardes Kemf thumped the table for emphasis. Again.

  Tre Meon Garran sighed mentally. He had other things on his mind, but Kemf insisted on picking at an issue that was not an issue. The Tharans would come—or they wouldn’t. It was not like either one of their opinions would influence the matter one way or the other. But they still had two more hours to spend on their shift at the entry table before they could close the palace doors for the night. Although Kemf had been over this particular theory before, Garran decided to say his part—again. “The king took the lancers to Drundevil Pass to stop them. They’ll bottle them up in the Chammanie Valley, and the lancers’ charge will cut through the Tharan foot like in that battle a hundred-some years ago.”

  “That was then, and this is now.” Kemf frowned and stabbed his finger into the table for emphasis. “Are the lancers as good now as they were then?” Stab. “Can King Kankasi lead them as well as King Elmarak did?” Stab. Kemf looked left and right as if someone might overhear. “The talk I hear around the palace is that the higher-ups are scared.”

  “What higher-ups? They all rode to glory with the king,” Garran snorted. As usual Kemf had veered off in a new direction. Truth was, Garran had heard a rumor today there had been a problem at a party or dinner or something. On his way into the palace, he had seen two doctors leaving. So far he had not said anything to his partner guarding the entrance this evening. He had heard enough of Kemf’s theories and did not want to add any wood to his fires.

  Kemf snorted with disgust. “The queen, that’s who’s scared.”

  He pricked up his ears. A new and unexplored twist? At least this was different. “How do you figure the queen is worried?” Garran asked.

  “You know the guy who checked in a while ago?”

  Garran thought back. “You mean the Ugori commander who came in to see the queen?”

  “That’s the one. I didn’t get it at first, but now I figured it out.” Kemf smiled sounding pleased with himself.

  “Okay, I saw him too, but how does that make the queen worried?”

  Kemf’s face lit up, and Garran sighed to himself. The man had a new theory, and Garran had just given him an invitation to expound. “The way I figure, it’s like this.” Kemf could hardly get the words out fast enough. “When the lancers all rode out with the king, who was left?”

  “You and me.” Garran sighed. “You and me and everyone else in the city, including the palace security, all the constables, and the street wardens.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Kemf coaxed. “But who’s got the only large, organized fighting force within five days march of Frohliem City?”

  “Okay, I give up. Who?”

  “The Ugori,” Kemf said, looking very satisfied with himself. He nodded. “That’s who.”

  “I repeat, so how does that make the queen worried?”

  “So why is the Ugori commander here this evening?” Kemf had started to wave his arms for emphasis—always a bad sign. “I figure he’s here to cut a deal with the queen about the northern territories. What better time to push the Ugori cause than when the Tharans come knocking at the door? Either East Landly gives back the territories, or they refuse to fight if the Tharans come.” Kemf paused to take a breath, but before Garran could interrupt, Kemf plunged on. “Maybe he’s even threatening to have the Ugori fight on the side of the Tharans!”

  The man stopped talking. For a moment Garran did not have anything to say. He had heard Kemf’s countless theories over the four months he had worked the palace security detail. This one sounded like all the others, but events were happening around the palace that had not happened before. Things like the entire Frohliem City corps of lancers summoned out to battle an invading army from Thara. Bah, he snorted to himself. It’s all stuff, nonsense . . . and Kemf’s hot air.

  Garran heard footsteps approaching down the marble-floored corridor. He looked up. A figure approached—the Ugori commander. Garran stood up out of his chair in respect and noticed Kemf also coming to attention. Conspiracy or not, Kemf was not about to let himself be charged with disrespecting an officer. No matter what he thought of Kemf’s theories, Garran clutched his halberd a little more tightly. The commander was not imposingly large, but he was a ranking officer and obviously a warrior—not a man to be trifled with.

  The commander approached into the glow of the security station’s lantern light. Garran saw he now carried a shield. His eyes bugged out with recognition. It was not just a shield, it was the shield—Frohliem’s Shield! Beside him, Garran heard Kemf suck in his breath.

  The commander spoke first to Garran. “Tre Garran, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, sir,” Garran replied, impressed that the man remembered his name.

  “The queen has given me responsibility for the defense of the city. That means as of this evening, you and the rest of the palace guard are under my direct command.”

  Garran’s eyebrows went up. He heard Kemf say, “Yes, sir,” before he could find the words himself.

  “I will be sending you a prisoner shortly. She will be escorted by a squad of Ugori. It is Lady Aylssandra, if you know of her. Know her or not, she is an extremely beautiful woman, and she has been injured.” The commander paused for a moment. He looked at Kemf, then back to Garran. Garran hoped the commander’s attention had the same impact on Kemf. He had trouble meeting the commander’s stare, but at the same time, it was hard to look away.

  “She may be a woman,” the commander continued, “but you and Due Kemf must understand this. She is an extremely dangerous assassin.” The commander paused and let his words sink in. “Show her no sympathy. Do not slacken her bonds. Do not offer her a hand. She came
close to killing me this afternoon. She has also poisoned women and children in the palace.” His words were flat, cold facts. Garran felt an icy stab of fear between his shoulder blades. The commander looked back and forth between the two guards. “Do you gentlemen understand?”

  Garran had to swallow before he could reply. “Yes, sir! We will send word for a squad of prison guards. They will be waiting when your party arrives.”

  The commander nodded. “You are men-at-arms, and your city thanks you. Your queen gave me this duty, but I want to return this shield to its rightful place in the royal hall as soon as possible. I hope even more to return it unused.” The man looked at them one last time, straightened, and gave them a proper salute before turning and walking out of the palace.

  When the commander was out of sight, Kemf said, “Well, fancy that.” The man sounded impressed—something Garran had never heard before.

  “Sounds like our night is going to be a little busier,” Garran replied.

  They summoned a messenger and sent him to notify the guards. After he had left, the two men took their places at the table. Neither said anything for a long time. Garran had almost finished the paperwork for the prisoner they were about to receive when he heard Kemf shuffle his feet the way he always did when he had something to say.

  “A good-looking assassin, huh?” Kemf paused. “I figured the Tharans was up to something.”

  Garran knew it was not necessary to inquire what it was that Kemf figured out. He spent a quiet moment amusing himself with mental speculations about what might be coming next. Kemf had spouted a convoluted narrative about the Ugori earlier, but he had appeared as impressed as Garran by their commander. Maybe Kemf would take a different tack? What would it be? West Landly? The dragon-bound? Kemf had not mentioned either lately.