Season of the Dragon, page 11
Shell spoke with the bark held between her teeth. “I’m used to it.” She gave Quen a sideways smile.
They rode in a more peaceable quiet for the rest of the ride to the Tilaj Gate. I love that Shel knows when not to pick at someone’s scab.
Druvna had been true to his word, and in less than a day’s ride, the Tilaj Gate loomed on the horizon. The picture Quen had of the famed gate didn’t do it justice. Why has no one told me it’s a massive, white-plastered wall and not really a gate? The Tilaj Gate undulated along the contours of the land like a giant white snake.
At least that’s what she first noticed on the approach from the south. There was an actual gate, and from afar, it looked small. But as they got closer, the gate’s elevation above the road from the south made it loom large. A massive wood structure covered in thick black lacquer, it was an imposing symbol of Kovan Dynasty power. Timbers making up the posts on either side were as big around as Quen. The dark wood was inlaid with copper cast in intricate patterns mimicking plants unlike anything growing in the Sulmére. Flickering in the sun, the polished copper inlay appeared like swirling molten lava.
A guard hut was perched above the wall on the right side, and a small guardhouse below. Outside the guardhouse stood a short, round woman dressed in black robes edged in silver, the hallmark of a Kovatha mage.
Druvna approached, and his mount, Dauer, snorted. Druvna took off his dinged helmet and tipped his balding head. “’Minster Imbica.” His tone was more deferential than Quen would have expected, given how much their entire pod of Jagaru complained about all things having to do with the Dynasty.
“Good day, Druvna,” Kovatha Imbica said. Her hair was mousy brown, streaked with grey and braided down her back. Her face was as round as her middle and red from the midday heat. “Do you bring a detainee for me to transport to the capital for dynasty justice?” She spoke with perfect diction, not the sloppy dialect of many in the southern provinces.
Druvna shot Mishny a glare then said, “No criminals for you to fuss with today, ’Minster.”
Kovatha Imbica sighed. “Well, if you have no detainees for me, why are you here wasting my time?”
The area around the gate was quiet. Serene even. She doesn’t look busy to me.
“We’re tracking quarry more important than a common thief. The thing was last seen headed this way.” Druvna dismounted. “You squibs stay here. Mishny—”
He didn’t have to say more. Mishny had already left Boy’s back and was at his side.
Imbica gave Mishny an appraising look. “Mishny’s with you now?” By the Kovatha’s expression, it appeared as though she disapproved of Mishny.
Druvna waved a hand in the air as though he could speed past the obvious discomfort the two women felt in each other’s presence. “Yeah, yeah. Old news and a story for another time.”
“All right, Druvna, you have my attention. It must be something big to get this close to the capital. Which reminds me, you are due for another honorarium, aren’t you? The generous kind that seals my lips and keeps you out of prison?”
Mishny took a step toward Imbica, but Druvna held out an arm and pushed her back. He coughed lightly and jingled the coin purse at his belt. “I’ll make the proper payment, as agreed, but first I need to know if the beast has been this far north and what you know of it.”
Imbica smirked at Mishny as if daring the woman to try her. When Mishny remained in check, Imbica returned her attention to Druvna. “What are you on about?” Her wide silver belt had slid below her paunchy belly, and she tugged it up and smoothed her tunic.
“Been dragon attacks.”
At first, Imbica said nothing. She looked sternly at Druvna then Mishny. When neither said anything further, she broke into loud, cackling laughter. “The Brothers have finally boiled your brains, Druvna.” She wiped a laugh tear from her eye. Her laughter cut off as quickly as it had begun, and her voice was stern. “Now, I’ll collect an honorarium for each in your party to forget I saw you here, then be on your way.”
Aldewin dismounted and was quickly at Druvna’s side. With Imbica only a smidge smaller than Druvna, Aldewin towered over them both. Imbica had to crane her neck to look at him.
“The old Jagaru here is in earnest. Two villages. Juinar, and before that, Solia.” He pointed back at Quen and Rhoji. “Two of them saw the beast set fire to their village of Solia.”
Imbica snapped her finger. “Down then, witnesses. I’ll hear your sunbaked story, but I’ve not got all day.” The Kovatha continued badgering them to make haste. “Down now. Quickly, quickly.”
Rhoji and Quen exchanged a look, and Rhoji dismounted from Gambol. He smoothed his riding tunic and unwrapped his keffla as he ambled toward the Kovatha.
Imbica had to look up at him, too. “Where did all these long poles come from?” She muttered to herself, “Didn’t know there was anyone taller than Druvna south of the wall.” Imbica retrieved a tiny pencil from the back of her braid and a small leather-bound book from her belt. With hand poised over the opened book, she was ready to take notes. “You, tall one with the blue feather. Tell me of this so-called dragon.”
Rhoji began to speak, but Kovatha Imbica interrupted. “No, no, no. Your name first.”
As he spoke, she wrote. “Rhoji Tomo Santu di Sulmére.”
Before Rhoji could begin his story, a loud, mournful keening filled the air.
“What in Hiyadi’s realm is that?” Quen asked.
Shel had her hands over her ears, but she could apparently hear Quen. “It’s yindrils. Awful, heh? Wait ‘til you see them. They look even worse than they sound.”
Imbica looked impatient. “Dune blossoms.” She rolled her eyes. “Get on with it. I need to set out for the capital soon. The yindrils are impatient for a journey.” She pointed to Quen. “You a part of this story?”
Quen nodded.
“Well, get down here and let me take your statement as well.”
Quen was happy to stretch her legs. Nabu gave an appreciative grunt, as he always did when rid of Quen.
Kovatha Imbica didn’t look up, writing in her notebook. “Name.”
Quen cleared her throat. She’d never been a witness before. “Quen Tomo Santu.” Though it was not strictly necessary to add more because she was a woman, she added, “di Sulmére.”
The Kovatha looked at her then, truly taking her in for the first time. Imbica had to look up at Quen too. “Another leggy one.” She bent to write Quen’s name in the book but stopped, her hand still on the page. She squinted up at Quen. “Your eyes…”
No one had mentioned Quen’s eyes for a while. Rhoji, Eira, and Shel were, of course, all accustomed to Quen’s oddity.
Kovatha Imbica crooked her finger at Quen. “Come closer. Show me those eyes.”
Sweat pooled in Quen’s armpits. This Kovatha’s demeanor reminded her how she felt as a child when in trouble. She stooped to give the mage a closer look.
Imbica stared first at the glacial-blue eye, then the amber-yellow one. She repeated this another time, looking first at one, then the other as Aldewin had done when they first met. Finally, she said, “Druvna, you were holding out on me.”
Druvna looked at Mishny, who shrugged, then at Aldewin, who shook his head.
“What’s that, ’Minster?”
Imbica returned to Druvna. “You said you didn’t have any detainees. Looks like you had one after all.”
Druvna responded with a blank stare.
“Come now. Edict 42?”
Aldewin put in, “We truly do not know what you’re referring to.”
Imbica pointed at Quen. “She’s a Doj’Anira.” When all of them shrugged, Imbica explained, “Twice blessed. Two different eyes. One of Enara, one of Vatra.” She stared intently at Quen as she spoke.
Quen’s stomach roiled. Twice blessed. That’s what Aldewin had said, too. But he acts like he has no idea what she’s talking about. What’s going on? While the others may have been puzzling over Imbica’s terminology, Quen focused on the word she knew: detainee.
The voice from deep inside her fairly screamed, “Run!” It may have been prudent, but she’d never trusted the Nixan before. Quen didn’t heed the inner warning this time, either.
Druvna donned his helmet. “I do no’a know about Edict 42, but I know this one is a member of my pod, ’Minster. I’ll no’a turn her to the Dynasty just on your word.”
Apparently sensing trouble in the air, two Dynasty guards came from the small building beside the outer wall of the gate. Both wore the Kovan Dynasty standard emblazoned on their crimson leather plate armor: a blazing golden sun. Their hands were on the hilts of the curved swords at their waists.
One said, “Any trouble there, Kovatha Imbica?”
A yindril’s mournful keening sounded.
Druvna’s hand was on the hilt of his blade, and Mishny pulled daggers from her belt, one for each hand. Aldewin’s staff was in his hands as well, and Shel and Eira dismounted, weapons in hand, and came forward, creating a circle around Quen.
“Nothing I can’t handle.” Imbica wound her hands one around the other as though she held an invisible ball. “Do not test me, old Jagaru.”
“I’m not old,” Mishny snarled. She rushed the Kovatha, slashing her daggers, apparently intending to slice the Kovatha open from side to side.
Before Mishny was close enough to land a blade on the mage, Kovatha Imbica flicked her wrist and hurled a small ball of swirling fire at Mishny. It grazed Mishny’s left wrist, causing her to yowl in pain and drop one of her daggers.
Imbica flicked her other hand and sent another fireball at Mishny, this time hitting her in the thigh. Mishny slapped her leg, trying to put out the flames. Her riding tunic was singed, but the fire extinguished quickly.
“I suggest you stand down and allow me to take this detainee into custody before you all end up in a Qülla cell with a lost key.” There was a bead of sweat on Imbica’s upper lip, and stray hairs had broken free of her braid, but her hands still circled as though gathering power. The air between her hands glowed, and sparks flew from the invisible ball of energy the Kovatha mage held.
Mishny’s lip was curled in a snarl, but she didn’t attack Imbica again. Druvna exchanged looks with Aldewin, but neither moved to prevent Imbica from taking Quen.
Rhoji stepped forward, lightly shoving Quen behind him. “She is my sister, and I am her First Kin. I demand to know the charges against her. What crime could she have possibly committed to warrant arrest and detention?” He stood tall, his chin thrust out, his demeanor and bearing as regal as one could be after riding with the Jagaru.
“You’re an articulate young man, so I assume you can read?”
Rhoji nodded.
“Then what excuse have you for not knowing the Dynasty’s edicts?” Before Rhoji could answer, Imbica continued. “In the Second Era of the great Kovan Dynasty, the fifth year of the reign of Xa’Vatra, the Exalted issued Edict 42. I quote, ‘Any person bearing the mark of a Doj’Anira—blessed by both Lumine and Hiyadi—are hereby detainees of the Kovan Dynasty and shall be commandeered and delivered to the proper authority for processing forthwith.’”
Rhoji shook his head. “I don’t understand. Quen committed no crime, and she’s no sack of flour or skein of skins to be bartered.” He didn’t move aside.
The poignancy of Rhoji’s words made Quen’s throat tight. Pahpi had said nearly the same thing to Nevara.
“We did no’a know of this Edict.” Druvna rifled in his pouch and pulled out a large silver coin. It was a kovar and worth an entire year’s worth of skins. “It would no’a harm a thing if you look the other way, just this once.”
Quen had known Druvna for less than a month. That he would part with a small fortune of silver to protect her moved Quen to tears.
Imbica tsked and shook her head. “You test me to the limits of patience today, Druvna. If I did not know better, I would think you want me to hand you over to your old friend Cinwa, head Reeve of Qülla prison.”
Druvna blanched. His hand shaking, he quietly dropped the kovar back into his bag.
Kovatha Imbica opened a large pouch at her belt and retrieved wrist shackles with a chain between them. She moved toward Quen, but Rhoji’s tall body blocked her. She stared up at him evenly. “Step aside, young Jagaru, or I’ll send you to Druvna’s old friend Cinwa.” She glanced over at Druvna. “Did Druvna ever tell you how he got that scar that split his face in two?”
Quen felt as though her knees would buckle. She couldn’t let harm befall Rhoji on her behalf. Whatever this Edict 42 was about, surely the Dynasty had no use for her. This must be a mistake. I will go with this Kovatha and get it sorted in the capital.
She pushed in front of Rhoji and submitted her wrists for cuffing. “Pahpi would want us to follow the law.”
Rhoji’s voice was panicked. “No, Quen, you can’t.” He looked at Druvna then Aldewin. “Please, you can’t let the Kovatha take her. Quen’s done nothing wrong.”
Imbica muttered, “I do not have the time for this.” On her tiptoes, she touched her pointer finger to the middle of Rhoji’s forehead. “Be calm, young man. The Exalted is wise and does only what is best for all.”
Rhoji’s forehead crease softened. The tears twinkling at the corners of his eyes dried. He looked nearly serene where seconds before he appeared on the verge of ripping Imbica’s limbs off. He backed up a few paces, allowing Kovatha Imbica to approach Quen.
A scorpion-shaped mechanism locked the iron manacles. Six ‘legs’ interlocked the two sides of the wrist restraints, while the ‘pincers’ came together with a loud click, locking the mechanism. I never expected to wear prisoner’s shackles.
Shel sniffled, and Eira put an arm around his sister, his cheeks wet with tears.
Quen wiped her face on the shoulder of her dusty tunic. “Do not fret for me, friends. The Kovatha is right. The Exalted and her advisors are wise. I mean, they must be, right? To manage all Indrasi. I will speak to her. She’ll see—this is a grand mistake.”
Kovatha Imbica pulled the chain attached to the shackles. “The Exalted does not make mistakes. Come, Doj’Anira. My yindrils await.”
Aldewin still held his staff and looked ready to use it. As Imbica steered Quen by him, she said, “Do not try me, mageling.”
Without heeding the Kovatha’s warning, Aldewin swung his staff toward Imbica’s head.
Somehow sensing what was coming from behind, Imbica raised her free hand, and Aldewin’s staff snapped. The break took him by surprise and threw off his momentum. He stumbled and landed in the rocky soil, holding two ruined pieces of splintered wood.
Though still miffed at Aldewin for toying with her emotions, she was heartsick he’d lost his ‘stick.’ He spent more time oiling and cleaning it every night at camp than talking with the pod. It was clear the well-worn staff meant a lot to him. But he cared enough to try to stop her. The way her new Jagaru family had attempted to come to her aid made the parting more bitter. I don’t want them to meet harm, but I hope they don’t give up on trying to find me.
Kovatha Imbica tugged the lead chain, pulling Quen toward the gate. The tower guard shouted to someone on the other side of the wall, “Open for Kovatha.”
The colossal gate creaked, and the doors swung inward. They opened just enough to let them pass.
Druvna, now astride Dauer, clicked his tongue, and Dauer sauntered toward the gate. Mishny and Aldewin mounted too and followed.
Imbica turned and held up her hand. “Turn them back. We’ve no need for more Jagaru north of Tilaj.”
Before Druvna made it through the gate, four guards pushed the massive doors closed. Rhoji stood between Eira and Shel, their arms around each other. “I’ll find you,” he called.
The massive black doors slammed shut, and Quen could no longer see her brother or Jagaru family. Even with the gates closed, Rhoji screamed, “I will find you!”
Not if I become someone—or something—you no longer recognize. The chains rattled as she wiped a tear from her cheek. Guards secured the gate with a massive block of timber, closing Quen off from her friends, family, and the only life she’d ever known.
PART II
Kovan Came
(Forever May He Reign)
Dragos o’er our heads, they soar.
Joy and dance, we have no more.
Fire storm and Devil’s breath.
Behold a pillar o’ ash—
Our sons and fathers!
Mother’s arms, no more.
Rock towers echo our cries.
Plea to the heavens, hear us.
Pray ye end Terror’s reign.
Our Father, oh Hiyadi,
We lift praise to you,
End the dragos scourge.
Brave warrior’s heart is born.
With blade swift and true, take aim.
Dragos head still and dead.
Our Father’s son, Kovan, came!
His eyes shone gold.
Of the ash no more!
Great Kovan came,
Our Father now reigns!
Great Kovan came,
Our Father forever reigns!
Great Kovan Came (Forever May He Reign), Traditional Hymn, 1st Era, Kovan Dynasty
Chapter 9
Heartless
Heartless Imbica tugged at Quen’s lead again, forcing her away from the gate even as Rhoji’s pained cry echoed. Rhoji and Quen had fought each other like starving rats all their lives, but they’d also been allies against the world’s ills. Rhoji was her nemesis, but also her blood kin. Now she was being pulled from him, maybe forever.
“Rho-ji!” she screamed. Her eyeballs were hot, her chest in a vise.
There was no response from the other side of the massive gate. Imbica yanked at Quen’s bindings.
Her throat tight and dry, Quen gave another parched cry. “Rho-ji!” Her knees buckled and nearly toppled the Kovatha.
The mage tugged again on the chains, but more intensely this time. “He cannot hear you through the thick wall. Come, Doj’Anira, you are debasing yourself.”
