Book 5: Chapter One

Present day …

“I don’t think we’ll be able to save it,” Shavala said, pausing her work. Scrubbing at the discolored layer of grime coating the wooden bar top had revealed dry rot.

Katrin stopped too, blowing a lock of hair out of her eyes. “No, I guess not. I’ll need to find someone who can replace it.”

While the others were busy cleaning the keep room by room, Shavala had been stuck in the old tavern watching over the dragon eggs. She’d decided against moving them a second time, worried that any unnecessary jostling might damage the creatures growing within. Katrin had joined her on the third day, wanting to get a start on fixing up the tavern.

Shavala stood back and stretched. “What next?” she asked.

“The floor,” Katrin said. “We’ll just have to work around those things.” She gestured to the eggs with distaste. “I’ll go borrow a broom from the keep.”

They’d already removed the tables and chairs, putting the ones in the best condition in the back room to be cleaned and polished, and tossing the rest outside in a pile to be chopped up for firewood.

“Wait,” Shavala said. She concentrated and summoned a light gust of air, blowing the loose leaves and other recent detritus up and out the open door.

With the easy part out of the way, she summoned more winds, stronger this time. Feeding into each other, they formed miniature cyclones, coming up only to knee height. Shavala directed them around the room to scrub the floor, loosening up some of the crusted-on dirt and then blowing it out of the way. The wind couldn’t fully clean the slate tiles, but it could get rid of the bulk of the mess.

One of the whirlwinds whipped at Katrin’s skirts. “Hey!” she said, laughing. “That tickles. Stop it!”

Shavala grinned and let the winds die out. “You don’t need to borrow a broom now.”

“I’ll go refill the buckets, then,” Katrin said. She massaged her shoulder. “More scrubbing.”

Before Shavala could respond, Leena and Zhailai appeared in the room, returning from their trip to Cetos. They’d been gone for over a day.

Zhailai peered around as if not quite certain she’d actually changed locations. “A strange sensation, to be in one place and then another so far apart from each other,” the dorvasta druid said. “Thank you, Leena, for your aid.”

“Did you learn anything?” Shavala asked. She would have liked to see Cetos for herself, but Leena was limited in how much Traveling she could do while taking others with her. She had to rest and recover each time, and it was more important for Zhailai to go so she could track down her contacts there. It wouldn’t have been fair to ask Leena to make an extra trip just so Shavala could satisfy her curiosity.

“We went to Kalas, which is an outpost on the border of the settled region. We found Makula there—he’s a ranger, and the great-grandson of the woman who first showed me the outlands during my travels. They have their own rangers, not like ours.” Zhailai shook her head and switched to the elven language. “I always forget how quickly humans are affected by time. Makula was just a little boy the last time I visited, and now he’s a man with children of his own.”

“What did he say?”

Zhailai switched back to trade tongue so the others could follow the conversation. “He says the eggs will hatch without their mother, but if the hatchlings don’t have anyone to hunt for them, or to teach them to fly and hunt for themselves, they aren’t likely to survive. An older female dragon that has raised young of her own in the past will sometimes take care of hatchlings that aren’t hers. Only sometimes, but he thought it was worth a try. He’s gone to search for a group of outlanders who may know of a good candidate. I had to give him some of the coins you offered. He doesn’t work for free.”

It wasn’t good news, but it was better than nothing. The hatchlings would have a small chance at life.

“Thank you. Did he say how long it would take?”

“Outlanders are a strange bunch, but there are usually some near Kalas. He should have an answer by tomorrow, though we should go early in the morning or it’ll be nighttime there.” Zhailai trailed her fingers over the eggs. “I worry about carrying them all at once. Perhaps we should take two tomorrow, and two the day after.” She glanced at Leena. “If that is acceptable to you?”

Leena nodded. “It was farther than I’ve ever gone before, but as long as I don’t do anything else, I think I can handle it.”

“Only take one on the second day,” Shavala said.

Zhailai tilted her head to the side. “Would that help? I do not understand this magic. If Leena goes by herself, she will be less tired?”

“Yes, but I’d just have to make another trip afterward,” the Sanvari woman said. “And I wouldn’t be able to talk to anyone there—I could barely understand what you were saying.”

“This is true,” Zhailai said. “The trade tongue they speak in Cetos is very different than what we speak here.”

“I don’t mean for Leena to make an extra trip,” Shavala said. “I want you to leave one of the eggs here. You say the adult they find may not care for the hatchlings, so I’ll raise one of them myself. I’ll hunt for it, and teach it to hunt.” Teaching it to fly would be harder, but some part of it must be instinctual. Birds could learn to fly on their own.

“Shavala!” Katrin said. “You can’t!”

“I’ll train it not to harm people. If it has food, it won’t need to kill anyone.”

She felt a need to know the creatures better, to understand them. They were predators, but so were elves and humans. Shavala herself was a hunter, and she’d killed humans in battle. She’d killed men with fire. Was she any better than the dragon she’d helped to hunt down?

“We cannot speak to dragons,” Zhailai reminded her. “They’re not part of the natural world.”

Shavala held her hands out to her sides, palms up. “Is it so different than what humans do in training dogs or horses? Wolves are predators, yet dogs can learn a different way of life … and dragons are smarter than dogs or horses.”

Zhailai nodded.

“Corec isn’t going to let you keep a dragon,” Katrin said.

“Corec doesn’t decide what I do,” Shavala told her. “I’m not a child, and I don’t need another parent.” It wasn’t the first time she’d had to remind the other woman of that. She cared for Corec and Katrin, and she could adjust her life to spend time with them, but she wouldn’t allow them to change who she was.

A hurt expression crossed Katrin’s face. “It’s too dangerous!” she protested.

“If I can’t control the dragon, I’ll kill it myself,” Shavala said. “I promise. But I need to know if we can live in peace with them. Humans and elves are not their natural prey.”

“I’d like to help you,” Zhailai said. “When we take the other eggs to Cetos, I’ll find out more. The outlands are different than anywhere else I’ve been. Perhaps we can learn something from them.”

#

“Miss Ellerie,” Duke Lorvis said, rising from behind his desk to greet her. “Welcome back to Matagor. Judging by the message you sent me, I suspect you’re not here to get your old job back.”

Devin, Lorvis’s Captain of the Guard, smirked at that. He was the man Ellerie had reported to when she’d served as bodyguard to the duke’s daughters.

She unfurled the cloth from around the bundle she carried, and laid the three-foot-long dragon’s horn out on the duke’s desk. “The dragon is dead,” she told him.

Lorvis pursed his lips but didn’t respond right away.

“It could be fake,” Devin said. “Or from some other dragon. You can buy that sort of thing if you know where to look.”

Ellerie rolled her eyes. “It’s real, Dev.” He hated when the guards under his command addressed him informally. “And check the cuts—they’re fresh.”

“We’ll take it as true for now,” the duke said. “There have already been rumors coming out of South Corner. I wasn’t expecting to see you in person so soon, though, Ellerie—much less with the deed already done. Your message said you were trying to find the funding to take care of the matter.”

“The dragon’s attacks were too serious for us to delay, but it was an expensive undertaking. We had to borrow a great deal of money.” Most of what they’d borrowed had been from their friends rather than a moneylender, but Ellerie still hoped to pay it back.

A sly grin came over Lorvis’s face. “Well, seeing as how the beast is already dead and I never agreed to anything beforehand, I have to wonder why you’re here.”

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“Surely it’s worth something to you if the trade roads could be reopened. How much money would you save each year with a direct route to Tyrsall?”

The duke shrugged. “Perhaps a bit. Eventually. I have existing contracts that must be honored—I can’t just change things on a whim. In any case, I assume the dragon won’t be returning to life, so I’ve already got what I would have wanted out of the deal.”

“The dragon’s dead, but the roads are covered with fifty-four years worth of growth,” Ellerie pointed out. “Completely impassible in some spots. You’re not going to get any caravans through there unless someone does the work. We’ve got over two hundred miles of road to clear, and that won’t come cheap.”

It wasn’t as bad as she was making it sound. Much of the overgrowth came from grasses and weeds that would be beaten down as wagons and horses started coming through.

“Two hundred?” Lorvis said with a frown. “I don’t care about the north-south route. I’m only interested in the trade road—the Old Road.”

“Then help us pay for that. It’ll benefit you as much as us.”

“Who is this us, exactly?”

There was only one answer that would work. Free lands they might be called, but the nearby kingdoms considered the area to be human territory. Ellerie couldn’t lay a claim there, particularly once word got out about who her mother was. Besides, Duke Lorvis would respect martial strength, and, like many of the nobles in the surrounding lands, he would want to know who he was dealing with. He wouldn’t accept the idea of a group of nameless advisors sharing the duties of running the fortress.

“Corec Tarwen holds the keep,” she said. “He led the forces that defeated the dragon, and he helped fund the expedition. Now that the way is safe, he and his soldiers have occupied the fortress so the trade routes can be reopened.”

“Tarwen? That’s a barony in Larso. Does King Rusol intend to surround the hillfolk from all sides? Marten never thought the free lands were worth the trouble.”

Duke Lorvis knew the name of one of the smallest baronies belonging to his neighbor to the north, but in the time Ellerie had worked for the man, he’d never realized who she was.

“Tarwen, yes, but a third son,” she said. “Neither Larso nor the king are involved, and Lord Ansel has no stake in the matter.” But getting Corec’s name out to the public might draw Rusol’s attention, which was the whole idea.

“And you work for this Tarwen now?” Lorvis asked.

“I work with him,” Ellerie said. There were limits to what her pride could accept.

The duke grinned again. “If Tarwen has taken the keep, I assume he intends to operate the toll bridge … which means he’ll be clearing the roads whether I contribute anything or not.”

It was hard to tell whether Lorvis was mocking her or simply playing a game for his own amusement. He’d already admitted that having the roads open would be helpful, and he wouldn’t have done that if he wasn’t at least considering her request.

Ellerie shrugged. “True. Of course, clearing the roads will be a boon to all the houses of Matagor. I imagine they’d be quite grateful to the man who helped make it happen.” She slid the horn over to Lorvis’s side of the desk.

He leaned back in his chair and stroked his small, neatly groomed beard. “And what do I get for my investment?”

“Free passage through the toll bridge, up to twice the value of what you put in, for any House Lorvis caravans. Or, if you prefer, other caravans carrying Lorvis goods. So, you see, it’ll save you money three times over—a faster route to Tyrsall, no import taxes to Larso, and a discount on crossing the bridge.”

“What’s the rate?”

“Just as it was when Matagor operated the bridge—twenty silver for each wagon carrying trade goods.” They’d learned that from the old records they’d found within the keep, most of which were still legible. “Which means ten for you, for whatever funds you contribute in advance to clearing the roads.”

“A worthwhile deal under certain circumstances, perhaps, but I don’t know this Tarwen fellow. What sort of guarantee will you offer that my money won’t simply disappear?”

“What guarantee would you like?” she asked.

“The trade keep,” he replied without hesitation. “If you fail to maintain the roads and the toll bridge long enough for me to recoup my investment, ownership of the keep passes to House Lorvis.”

Ellerie thought over the implications. “For the first three years only,” she said. Otherwise he might simply send so few caravans through that he’d never use up his pre-payments on the tolls, in the hopes of triggering the guarantee. “After three years, that part of the deal is void. I can’t say what will happen in the future.” If they had to leave the keep within the next three years, Ellerie was confident she could find someone to run the place in Corec’s name for a while, even if she had to send home for an administrator and a group of sentinels.

“So, one hundred gold?” Lorvis asked.

Ellerie schooled her expression to hide her surprise. “For one hundred gold, you’ll get passage for four hundred freight wagons and our promise to clear the old trade road first.” Four hundred wagons would be somewhere between twenty and forty caravans. It might take Lorvis five or more years to send that much cargo through, depending on how long it took him to get out of his current contracts. Many goods weren’t suitable for cross-continental trade.

“And how long, exactly, would this take?”

“We’ll have crews starting within the month. In two months, wagons should be able to make it through, though it’ll still be rough for a while until get the roads back to their old shape.”

“And this?” Lorvis gestured to the horn on his desk.

“It’s yours,” Ellerie said. “To prove your role in saving the people of the free lands from the dragon menace.”

He laughed. “That’ll certainly tweak the king’s nose.”

It took another hour to finalize the details. They wouldn’t get the money until the contract had been witnessed and registered and Corec had agreed to the terms, but with Leena’s help, that would only take a few days.

Done with her task, Ellerie found her lover waiting near a fountain outside the palace.

“Back to the keep?” Leena asked. “I think I’m rested enough.”

Ellerie grinned. “We’re in Matagor, the greatest center of learning in all of Aravor—and the shopping district isn’t bad either. I think the others can do without us for a day.”

#

Treya flipped the page in the storybook. “Next, the big frog and the little frog hopped around the lake to see who was fastest. The big frog said, ‘I’m bigger than you, so I’m faster.’ The little frog replied—”

Ditte interrupted her. “You’re reading it wrong.”

“What?”

“When Katrin reads it, she makes them do funny voices, and then she hums a picture in my head.”

“Well, I can’t hum a picture, but I can try to do funny voices. The big frog said, ‘I’m bigger than you, so I’m faster.’”

“That’s not the right voice!”

Treya rolled her eyes. The concubine classes on child-rearing hadn’t prepared her for the reality of it. Harri and Ditte were stubborn at the best of times, and often downright surly. It wasn’t always bad, though—Harri was serious and thoughtful when working with the horses, and Ditte could be very sweet as long as everything was going exactly how she wanted.

Besides, Treya couldn’t complain about taking care of the children when she’d hardly been doing it on a regular basis. Katrin had handled it while Treya was busy with the expedition, and since then, with Leena’s help, the two of them had been trading off time in Four Roads while they waited for Boktar’s caravan to arrive. Since one of them had to be in town to watch over their things, and Harri had to stay to take care of the animals, they’d decided Ditte could remain in Four Roads with her brother for a bit longer.

“When we get to the keep, Katrin can read it for you the right way,” Treya said. “That’s just a couple of days away.”

“Do we have to go?”

“You don’t want to stay here in the chapter house forever, do you? Harri’s going. We’ll meet him there, but we’ll get there before him. It’ll be fun—it’s like a castle. You can pretend you’re a princess.”

Ditte’s face brightened. “I can be a princess?”

“You can pretend to be, sure. There are walls and battlements and towers, just like a castle, and you’ll have your own room and your own sitting room—like a real princess.” There were twelve small suites in the keep, so the children would each get their own rather than having to share.

“But princesses have fancy dresses,” Ditte said, looking down at her own drab clothing. Harri had bought his sister a new outfit, but it was plain and utilitarian like her old clothing, not as colorful as the dresses worn by the girls in town. Ditte wasn’t happy about it, and perhaps it wasn’t fair to expect Harri to pay for his sister’s needs.

“We’ll go shopping for new dresses tomorrow,” Treya promised.

Ditte gave her a wide smile. “Can I have a green dress like Katrin’s? And a yellow one like Leena’s? And a—”

There was a knock at the door, saving Treya from having to commit to buying the girl a whole new wardrobe.

“Come in!” she called out.

Mother Yewen entered. “Good evening, Treya. Do you have a moment?”

“Of course. Ditte, why don’t you go play with the dolls Harri got you?”

The little girl slid off her lap and went to the pile of belongings she’d been accumulating.

Yewen took a seat. “I just got back from the council meeting,” she said. “I won’t hem and haw about it—I’ll just ask you straight out. Would your friends accept a smaller amount for killing the dragon, if it means the council would actually vote for it?”

Treya didn’t have the authority to negotiate for the group, but then, neither did anyone else. Not officially. “We never agreed on a specific amount, but you know how much we spent on the expedition,” she said. “What do you think we should do?”

“Something is better than nothing,” the old woman said. “The only reason it came up again is because the rumors are still going around that the council refused to do anything to help with the dragon, and some of the councilors are worried about losing their seats. They’ve agreed to a tax that will pay off our loans and refill our coffers, but beyond that …” Yewen shook her head. “They’ll give you enough so that they can claim they did something, but no more than that. Not with the dragon already dead. It would be different if you’d set a price up front.”

“I don’t know how we could have,” Treya said. “We didn’t realize how much it would cost until we were already committed, and we couldn’t wait and let it kill more people.”

“True, and I doubt this will turn out the way the councilors expect,” Yewen said. “Everyone has already heard the rumors and made up their minds. It doesn’t matter how much we paid to feed and house the refugees—what matters is that everyone thinks we didn’t do enough. They know it was Corec who went after the drakes last year. They didn’t pay any attention to his name at the time, but they know it now. And when the dragon came to Four Roads, it was Corec who returned to hunt it down.”

“That’s not really how it happened,” Treya said.

“Does it matter?” Yewen asked. “It’s what people believe. Four Roads didn’t stop the dragon. Larso and Matagor didn’t stop the dragon. Corec did … or at least that’s how everyone views it. So what will happen next?”

Treya hadn’t lived in the free lands since she was ten years old. She wasn’t sure what Mother Yewen was hinting at. “I don’t know,” she said.

“Four Roads is the largest town for hundreds of miles, but outside our own borders, we only have what little influence the people allow us to have. The next time there’s trouble, where will they turn?”

“We always figured that if we hired armsmen, Four Roads might call on us to deal with bandits and the like.”

Yewen gave Treya a look she couldn’t interpret. “It’s more than that,” the old woman said. “To the refugees from the south, who’s the real authority now? The town that left them to fend for themselves? Or the group that saved them from the dragon?”

“Authority?” Treya asked.

“Not much authority, perhaps, but the surrounding areas have always looked to Four Roads for leadership.”

“I’m sure they still will.”

Mother Yewen shrugged. “Perhaps, but don’t forget all the farmland that was abandoned when the dragon came. It won’t stay empty forever.”

“It’s a lot of land, but most of it is overgrown,” Treya said. “I’m sure some people will come, but as long as they’re not too close to the keep, I think it’ll be all right. You know what we’re up against.”

Yewen glanced at Ditte, who was walking her dolls along the windowsill, and lowered her voice. “You’re not planning to tell anyone about the threat from King Rusol?”

“We can’t,” Treya said. The group had discussed it before they’d hired the armsmen to stay on. “Rusol might have given up, and if so, we don’t want to draw his attention again by telling everyone he’s trying to kill Corec. Besides, if word gets out, we’ll have trouble from bounty hunters and mercenaries thinking they can get some sort of reward by coming after us themselves.”

“Then we’ll just have to see what happens,” Yewen said. “But you should be prepared for anything.”