Invasion and Dragons
Page 17
Will started, Sam and Mr. Higgins tensed, and Temmings’ eyes hardened. “Would you?” he asked. “If I asked you to, would you use it against our enemies?”
Landon swallowed, wondering the same thing himself. His father had confessed that he would’ve used it to save Hondel. Even then, when Landon was dying, his body broken and infected from the Twin’s Revenge, his parents hadn’t turned to the Seal. They had feared it would warp their minds and they would kill him rather than save him. What if he ended up killing rather than saving Nircana?
“The Wizard’s Seal brings nothing but grief and death,” Landon said at last. “My parents chose to put their faith in the angels rather than that thing when I was dying.” His voice wavered. “I—I’d rather do the same.”
“Even if it meant saving thousands of lives?” Temmings asked quietly.
Landon’s eyes burned. His throat was so tight he could barely say, “Yes. The kings want the Seal just as much as the Drakshus. They would use it in a heartbeat if they were given the chance. I don’t want to be like them. We can be stronger than the kings.” He looked away, ashamed of his answer.
“Of course, Landon,” Temmings said, laying a hand on his shoulder. “It belongs to you, therefore it is your decision, and yours alone, as to the use of it. I want you two,” he pointed at Sam and Will, “to make note of this. With these men as my witness, I promise that I will never force you to use the Wizard’s Seal. I may be driven to ask, I may beg you to reconsider, but I will never force you. Do you understand?”
Landon stared at the chief judge, solace flooding his being. He tried to put his gratitude into words, but only succeeded in making choking noises. He could do nothing but nod his head. Temmings recovered the Seal, reattached the hilt, and set it aside before grasping Landon’s shoulder.
“Thank you, Landon, for trusting me,” he said. “I expect it must have been a great step of faith, especially with our country under siege. May I inform the other judges about the Wizard’s Seal? And Carlton?”
Landon nodded.
“Thank you.” Temmings looked at the other two. “Do you have any more questions, or shall we let Landon rest?”
Will shook his head. Mr. Higgins said, “I can wait.”
“I have one,” said Sam. “What did that flea-ridden mongrel burn to give you a bloody nose?”
Landon smiled. Leave it to Sam to put aside the world’s most coveted item for a patient’s health. “I know they used used dragon ash, and something called dragon’s clove when they started. And . . . moon something. But after that, I have no idea. That’s when the hallucinations started.” He shuddered, remembering the giant spiders.
A vein throbbed in Sam’s temple, and he ground his teeth. “That’ll make my job more difficult, but I’ve cured you of worse things.” He forced a wink.
Landon smiled sheepishly. “Thank you, Sam. I—I’m sorry I always come to you in worse condition than I left.”
Sam shrugged. “I’m a doctor. Everyone comes to me in a worse condition than when I last saw them. Granted, you’ve been turning up on my doorstop most often lately. We’ll leave you alone now. Try to get some sleep.”
“You look like you need it,” said Temmings. He patted Landon’s shoulder and stood. “I need to chat with Casey and a few others in a nearby cave about moving south without the dragons noticing. And freeing the rest of our people. Samuel, I’ll let you make the call as to when Landon’s well enough to travel. The Dagnorians may be swarming the place, but we are well hidden and can stay here as long as we need to.”
They nodded and Temmings left, taking the remains of their meal with him. Sam set to work on making more tea, while Will and Mr. Higgins began making beds with blankets and cloaks. Landon sat and watched, too tired to offer his help. Even if he did, he knew it would be refused. He leaned his head against the earthen wall and closed his eyes.
He didn’t know how long he’d slept, but he woke up to a nightmare. The dugout was on fire, the blankets and pots were scattered in the dirt. Men and women alike screamed in pain and terror. Landon’s eyes were drawn to the bodies strewn about in bloody piles, and the large Borikan standing among them. He knew the man. The mane of reddish-blonde hair, the muscled arms with the fists clenched around a large broadsword dripping with blood.
“No . . .”
Angen stood over Will, who cowered at his feet with a hand raised, pleading for mercy. The Borikan threw back his head and laughed.
“A brother for a brother!” he cried as he ran his sword through Will’s chest. Angen wrenched the sword free, kicked the body aside, and turned to Landon.
Landon threw himself backwards, scrambling in the dirt to escape, but the blankets snaked around his arms and legs and bound him to the ground. Words tumbled from his throat, begging for mercy. Angen strolled towards him, a cruel smile splitting his face. The Borikan Twin raised his sword and brought it down with both hands. Landon screamed as the tip disappeared into his chest.
“Landon!”
In a flash, Angen, the bodies, and the burning dugout vanished. Will was kneeling in front of him, whole and healthy. Sam, Mr. Higgins, and Edwin were holding him against the earthen wall while Jake held a thick cloth over his mouth. Will kept telling him that everything was okay—that he was safe but hallucinating. Sam urged him to relax and sleep, while Edwin expressed concern about Landon’s shouts.
“Those damn Dagnorians are out and about,” Edwin was saying. “What if they heard him?”
Landon had that one second to realize he was still drugged when a new hallucination began. And a new one. It was like when he was Tan’Loraen’s prisoner all over again except he wasn’t forced to stay awake. When he fainted, he passed out completely until some sound, whether it was a cough or a screeching dragon, brought him to the waking world.
Landon didn’t know how long he suffered from the hallucinations. He couldn’t tell the passage of time. For all he knew, he could’ve been in the dugout for weeks. The hallucinations tried to offer him food and drink, but he refused. Their food smelled rancid and sometimes crawled with maggots, and when a liquid was forced down Landon’s throat, it tasted foul. They claimed he had a fever, and would drape sheets of ice on his head, or dab his body with animal skins drenched in liquids. He expected the hallucinations to tie him up, but they never did. They just held him in their strong arms until he fainted or realized he was hallucinating.
Hours—or days—passed before the hallucinations became less disturbing and horrifying. At one point, Landon hallucinated that he was swimming in the ocean, trying to reach a green mountain in the distance. He swam and swam until exhaustion took over, and he sank into a deep sleep.
When he awoke, tired and drenched in sweat, the cave was dimly lit from natural light. It was warm and the scent of roasting meat and herbs permeated the air. Landon’s stomach growled as loud as a bear, drawing several chuckles from Mr. Higgins who was sitting next to him.
“Howsy, Landon,” Mr. Higgins said and beamed. “You hungry?”
“No,” Landon said. “I’m starving.”
“Good,” said Will from beside the fire. “I have a couple pheasants that need eating and two people won’t do the job.” He looked over to Landon. “How are you feeling?”
“Starving,” Landon repeated, sitting up. Blankets fell from his shoulders, exposing his sweat-drenched chest. Even in the dim light, his scars stood out on his skin like beacons, and he quickly covered himself. He looked around the cave, noting Sam’s absence. “Where’s Sam?”
“Having lunch with his family before they leave for the mountains,” said Mr. Higgins. He cocked his head, studying Landon’s face. “Do you, er, see anything out of the ordinary?”
“Are those pheasants you’re cooking?” Landon asked, eyeing the meat. His stomach growled louder and longer.
“Indeed they are,” said Will, laughing. “Here, munch on this while you’re waiting.” He tossed a chunk of bread to Mr. Higgins, who then passed it to Landon.
“If that’s not a sign of a healthy nineteen-year-old I don’t know what is,” mused Mr. Higgins. “Skies, you’re eating like Morgan.”
“’M-starfing,” said Landon, spraying crumbs onto his lap.
Myra’s father chuckled. There was something about the sound that made Landon look at him. He was surprised to see a large number of wrinkles about Mr. Higgins’ eyes. He had never noticed those before, nor that they were the same shade of blue as Myra’s.
“You look like you have something on your mind,” Landon noted.
Mr. Higgins smiled, but Landon saw concern lurking behind the gesture. “I’ve been wondering about Myra. Does she know about the Seal?” he asked.
Here it comes. Landon glanced to where Will sat by the fire, seasoning the pheasants. “Yes,” he replied quietly. “My parents told her at the same time they told me. She knows almost everything you do.”
“Almost?” asked Mr. Higgins. “What haven’t you told her?” In no way was his tone threatening—but it was curious. Still, Landon felt as if Myra’s father were brandishing a sword at him.
“She—” Landon swallowed and dropped his gaze. “She doesn’t know about the marriage bit.”
He didn’t need to say more. Mr. Higgins’ eyes widened, and he leaned back. “Ah. Were you ever planning on telling her?” His meaning was clear, and Landon’s insides squirmed with guilt.
“Eventually,” Landon admitted. “But I don’t want to. The kings think I love her. Katsunaka and the samurai know, and because of that Morgan was going to get her out of Tsuregi next. I doubt that’ll happen. I bet Darrin has her chained in the dungeon because of me,” he added bitterly.
Mr. Higgins’ body stiffened. “If that’s the case, then we’ll get her out. We’ll find a way. And when we do, you will tell her about this marriage situation and marry her.”
Landon blanched. “What? No! I don’t want to marry her.” He said it louder than he intended, and it drew Will’s attention.
His older brother smirked. “My baby brother. Growing up and wooing girls.”
“Shut it!” Landon snapped, but Will’s grin widened. Landon looked back at Mr. Higgins, pointedly ignoring his brother.
“I’m not going to marry her,” he repeated. He had made that decision when tied to the chair in the courthouse. “I’m not going to give her this life. I don’t want her to be hunted or used or tortured. It’s bad enough that the Menrian Borikans will come after her if they find out she killed Angen. It’s that or I marry her and risk our lives being manipulated by a bunch of stupid, greedy kings. Myra doesn’t deserve that. She doesn’t deserve me!” Tears sprang to his eyes, and he brushed them away with a shaky hand.
He went on, his voice growing bolder even as his heart twisted in pain. “She deserves someone better, someone who can keep her safe and take her on adventures. I can’t do that thanks to the stupid wizards and the stupid kings. All I can do is get her out of this mess as fast as possible and let her move on with her life.”
Mr. Higgins raised an eyebrow. “Move on? You really think she will walk away after traveling halfway across the continent to be with you?”
Landon began to respond, but Mr. Higgins spoke before he could. “Landon,” he said, “she would never abandon you. Two months ago, when the samurai were going to escort you to Tsuregi, I asked her not to go. You didn’t know that?” he asked, as shock crossed Landon’s face. “I didn’t like the idea of her traveling alone in a group of men. I feared they would take advantage of her, but she was firm on her decision. Do you know why?”
Landon shook his head, although he knew the reason.
“You know it, Landon, you just don’t want to admit it,” Mr. Higgins said with a small smile. “She loves you Landon. She said nothing about the Seal, but she told me she wanted to stay with you. Actually, it was more like she yelled it at me. She said that neither I nor the angels could stop her, and even though you were still weak she swore that you and Morgan would look after her. I admit, that didn’t ease my worries one bit, but there was no stopping her. I had to trust that if anyone were to keep the nobles’ grubby fingers off her it was you and Morgan, no matter what condition you were in.”
“They tried to,” Landon admitted, “but then I pretended to use the Seal and scared them off.” He laughed, remembering Garn Padraen and Edmondo DiCorvi’s faces when he’d brandished his sword at them despite being weak.
“You see,” said Mr. Higgins, his voice soft and warm. “My daughter loves you very much. Seal or no Seal, you have my permission to marry her. Stop denying it,” he said, raising a hand as Landon began to protest. “If there were no hope of you two having a future, she wouldn’t have gone with you to Tsuregi. She is strong, Landon—stronger than you realize.”
“I know, but the Twin’s—”
“You and I know that she will never suffer this Twin’s Revenge so long as we both draw breath,” Mr. Higgins snapped. “I know your life has become dark and bleak, but don’t throw away the one ray of happiness you have. After all she has been through, you owe her that much. You need Myra just as much as she needs you. And I will not have a miserable daughter on my hands.”
Mr. Higgins’ eyes bored into Landon’s, and Landon knew he was right. He didn’t like it, but the man had a point. “Thank you,” he said, humbled.
“You’re welcome, son.” Mr. Higgins squeezed his shoulder, beaming.
A soft rustle and creak of wood being eased out of the way drew his attention. Sam entered and stopped upon seeing Landon sitting cross legged on the bed of blankets. He smiled. “Howsy, Landon. How are you feeling?”
“He’s starving,” said Will matter-of-factly. “And says he doesn’t see anything out of the ordinary. He inhaled a couple pieces of bread without a problem.”
Sam laughed. “Good.” He came to look Landon over. Landon obliged even though he hated how Sam’s fingers instinctively traced over scars as he inspected his skin for rashes.
“Your fever’s gone and your rashes are fainter. I say you’re fit for travel,” the doctor declared and stood. “I’ll go get some water for you to wash up and let Michael know.” Sam paused at the entrance and pointed to Landon. “Will, make sure he gets some fruit.”
“Sure thing, Doc.” Will pulled the meat from the fire and onto a flat piece of rock as Sam slipped through the vines. Will carved away the meat, placing the portions on a large plate. Landon’s mouth watered more and more as the pile grew. Once he finished, Will balanced the plate on one hand and rummaged through a sack behind him with the other. He pulled out a jar of preserved peaches before joining Landon and Mr. Higgins.
Mr. Higgins offered a prayer and they dug into the meal with relish. Soon the plate and jar were bare except for a few slivers of meat and peach juice.
Landon leaned back against the cave wall and sighed. “Skies that was wonderful. I felt like I hadn’t eaten for days.”
“That’s because you hadn’t, bro,” said Will, licking his fingers. “We’ve been here for three days. We tried to give you food but you refused to eat anything we offered.”
Landon blanched. “Three days?”
Mr. Higgins nodded. “I assume it was the hallucinations?”
Landon nodded. “It . . . it didn’t look like food. And the drinks tasted . . . different.” He could tell Will wanted details, but he didn’t feel like giving it. “Thanks for keeping me alive.”
“Of course, Lan,” Will replied, giving him a warm smile.
Landon rested against the dugout wall while his brother and Mr. Higgins cleaned up the meal. He listened to the Nircanians outside, all of them bidding each other safe travels in low voices.
“Remember,” said Johnston, his voic
e barely audible through the vines, “you’re only going to the next waypoint and then waiting there until dark. The weather is good so far, but if it rains then use your judgment.”
“Aren’t the Dagnorians still looking for us?” Landon asked, as Sam’s wife, Michelle Perkins, asked about medical supplies.
“They are,” replied Mr. Higgins. To Landon’s surprise, a smile curled at his lips. “But they are so incompetent that the judges have been sending groups south since yesterday. The Dagnorians blunder around and make as much noise as a pregnant cow in a corn field. There have been several close calls, mind, but the angels have protected us. It’s thanks to them and that rogue dragon that no one’s been recaptured.” He didn’t say yet but Landon heard it in his tone.
“You mean Sri’Lanca,” said Landon. “How is he helping us escape?”
“Same way as that night when we busted you and the judges out: causing chaos,” Will answered. “It’s been flying all over the place, uprooting trees and starting fires to drive us, and you, out. It’s even attacked a few of the other prison camps—thinking you were there—and that allows our people to escape. The other dragons have to chase after it and put out the fires.”
“Wait. They’re burning our forests?” Landon cried.
“Just the rogue dragon, Landon,” Mr. Higgins replied. “The Dagnorian king wants to preserve the land. I’ve heard from several patrols that the Caborcan and Lythran kings want Nircana in ‘as pristine condition as possible’ for when they take over. It’s an addition to the new treaty, and part of that deal is no fire destruction.” He scowled and took a swig of water from his canteen. “Those two kings heard all about the gold, silver, and gems the Dagnorians pillaged from our temple and want it for themselves. Personally, I’d rather have our forest burned than see our trees and mountains ruined for the wart-ass toadspawns to get rich.”
“They’d do it,” Landon murmured, thinking of the temple’s altar, with its rich carvings of angels and the gold and silver statues of Jeshua. Of course the Dagnorians would raid the temple. No one respected Nircana’s culture and freedom; why would they respect their religion? Landon fingered a corner of the blanket, remembering the broken steeple.