Burn (Dragon Souls) (34 page)

Adjusting his crossed legs, Shukri frowned. “We did not abuse the child. He was taken.”

“We were not made aware of a missing Prince,” Daniil said, shrewdly taking their measure. “We would have searched our own territory to restore him to you. Such an important dignitary would have been brought to my attention. As the Dragon King’s Second, I would have personally led the search.”

The Eldermon’s jaw tightened. “At the time of his abduction no attempt to recover him was made. We know not how he came here.” His expression turned suspicious. “It was reasoned Dragon Lord’s took him. So as to hold leverage over us at a later date.”

“No search was made?” the Regent repeated, incredulous at the callous disregard of an innocent.

Realising he made an error, Eldermon Shukri simply inclined his head.

Koen stared at the man. He uttered the question Marina was dying to have answered. “
Why
?”

“He was a bastard. Traditionally they are not part of the royal enclave.” Eldermon Murtada, a softer spoken, younger man answered when the other balked. He shrugged when Shukri cast him an irate look. Clearly he was the ‘rebel’ of the pair. “That has changed.”

Koen smoothed a finger over his upper lip. He didn’t succeed in hiding his repugnance. “I see.”

Marina had less reason to be diplomatic. “I sure as hell don’t.” Her leg flailed above the floor as she tried stomping it. The throne Koen had set her on was damn high.

Jakob slid a footstool under her dangling foot.

He nodded in a final show of support then returned to his sentinel position behind her chair, feet braced, hands clasped behind his back.

Calmer, she met Koen’s annoyed gaze. “They don’t get to dehumanize him then turn up one day claiming we’ve robbed them of something precious. They refused to acknowledge his worth when he was a baby. They’ve admitted they didn’t care enough to even look when he went missing.” She glared angrily across the circle of men. “You want to take him from his home into danger. How is ripping him from people who actually care about him going to do any good in healing the emotional scars he bears from his slavery?

“Bastard he may be, but royal blood runs in his veins,” Shukri said.

She huffed. There were Kings and Queens abound in this land. They could rustle up another and get lost. “Your point?”

“He will bear the burden. He was born to.” He gave her a pointed look. “Just as you were born a Princess bound to become Queen, to mate the Dragon King. It is his destiny.”

“No.” Her hand sliced the air sharply. “None of that. You won’t sit there and defend tearing a damaged child from his family to fulfil a ‘destiny’ you openly admit he wasn’t eligible to claim until you had no other choice.” Her hands balled into fists on her lap. “This civil war you worry over, I’m guessing a hard-nosed military man with some claim to the throne, no matter how tenuous, is driving it. Am I right?”

“Battle Lord Zaki married Rykiel’s sister,” Murtada admitted. “He has no royal blood. Prince Ryuk is the only Noor left.”

Marina didn’t care. “Battle Lord Zaki. And when he is told of the Grand Prince’s return he’s just going to step aside. Give my son a helping hand in asserting his rule?”

The Eldermen looked uncomfortable.

“You don’t look like fools,” she said stiffly, “but I’ve been wrong before.”

Shukri stirred, contrite even as he argued his position. “You would deny him his birthright?”

“I want him to have the best chance of a long, happy life. I won’t hand him over so you can throw him into a pit with a viper hoping he comes out unscathed.” She looked at Koen. “That is unacceptable.”

His fleeting smile was replaced with feral cunning.

“That is what your people do to you during this barbaric tournament. In the most literal sense.” Murtada gave her a knowing look. He along with the rest began to understand she tried to protect Boy from what she herself suffered. “We merely seek to restore what he’s owed.”

“We should not even be discussing this,” Shukri raged, again on the offensive. “The Prince belongs with his people. We do not have to explain our motivations.”

She ignored the antagonistic Eldermon, and focused on Murtada. He seemed willing to consider points of view beyond his own. “I’ve chosen to enter Aver of my own free will. You’re not giving Boy a choice. He wants to stay with me.” If he’d wanted to go with these men Boy would have made his will known when she’d asked.

“
Ryuk
is of royal blood,” Shukri said. “There is no choice.”

Murtada nodded slowly in agreement to these words. “For one such as he there is only destiny.”

Marina pushed back. “Return in a decade when he’s an adult. I vow he will be prepared to take the responsibility of leadership.”

“By then it will be too late,” Shukri said. “Our people will be under the rule of a tyrant.”

“Eight years then,” Marina grated, grimacing at their expressions of refusal.

It upset her she’d been reduced to bargaining for years as if Boy were nothing more than chattel. This was very kind of treatment she fought to free him and others like him from.

It rankled she’d been cornered this way, but these people weren’t letting this go, and she could see the Dragon Lords were becoming anxious and confused at Koen’s resistance.

“He’ll be eighteen. Then if he wants to go and challenge Battle Lord Zaki he can. Until then my answer is no.”

“It is not up to
you
,” Shukri spat.

“I’m his mother.” Fear her legal maternity wouldn’t be enough to keep him safe tore through her. “I understand the concept of adoption is a foreign one to this world, but I grew up in a place where it means the making of life altering decisions for a minor, like, oh, I don’t know, going to war with a bloodthirsty tyrant, happens here.” She tapped her chest. “He’s too young to fully understand the dangers. He isn’t
trained
to oppose a battle-hardened warrior. You would be leading him and any who followed to slaughter. We will have no part of it.” She knew in her heart though they were estranged, Mikhail and those sworn to him would fight with her. Maybe even House Ryu would stand. “You won’t take him as long as there is breath left in my body.”

“You
care
for him? For a Barren One?” Shukri sneered at the derogatory name.

“I love him. He is my son.” She met their cynical gazes. Her own became demanding. “Why refuse to acknowledge it?”

Holding out a hand to halt Shukri’s next remark, Murtada clucked, thoughtful. “Son you call him. You know him so well?” His bushy eyebrow rose. “If you truly knew what he was capable of, the destruction hidden within in his blood, I believe you would hand him over freely.”

In a flash she recalled the oppressive darkness that followed Boy around in a suffocating cloud. His aura was a dark one, but it wasn’t malevolent, or to be feared as Murtada insinuated.

Scoffing derisively, Marina returned her attention to Koen.

His brow furrowed deeply as Daniil whispered frantically into his ear.

When his gaze clashed with hers it was conflicted. “Treasure–”

The hairs on her arms lifted at the regret underlying the endearment. “He’s ours Koen. Ours.”

Without expression, Koen Raad looked at the Regent.

Myron shook his head, sadly.

Mikhail merely watched, as he had the whole time, but his expression left her in no doubt they’d suffer the fight of their lives for his grandchild.

Marina wondered just how ugly this would get.

“We must discuss this,” Koen said. “A decision such as this, one that affects my lands, my family and me personally, is one I must think on.” He stood and strode towards Marina. “Eldermen, I ask you to remain within the Citadel. Apartments have been made ready.”

“Halt.” Shukri rose to complain at his back. “There is nothing to discuss.” Slashes of colour highlighted the hollows of his cheeks as his anger heightened. “You will return our Prince or there will be consequences.”

Koen went hunter-quiet, predator-still. His aura blackened, and his eyes flashed with a muted glow.

He slowly turned and stabbed the man with a look that could wither the strongest of warriors. “Do you mean to give me orders and to
threaten
me?” His voice escaped as a profound rumble echoing a growl from his Dragon. “
In my own territory
?”

Paling, Murtada groped blindly for his fellow Elder’s tunic. Clasping a hold he yanked Shukri back into his seat.

“I am merely being practical.” Tugging free of Murtada, the Eldermon refused to recant. “You insult us by saying we abuse children, and refuse to return to our rightful heir. You have broken the treaty and incite war.”

Koen managed to loom over the assembly from where he stood. “It was not us who sent a youngling to assassinate a returned Princess of Tzion.”

Gasps of outrage ripped through the gathering.

At this coldly announced fact, Daniil inhaled sharply, his expression wrathful.

Myron released a blustery sigh.

Not shocked his Lady adopted her assassin, Jakob quirked a brow. He accepted it as part of what made her special, and inched closer to her chair to offer more protection.

Eldermon Shukri turned red.

Flustered, he turned in his seat to look desperately at the regiment of Battle Mages who eyed the Dragon King warily, but made no move to defend the honour of their people.

“How
dare
you,” Murtada stuttered. “We come here to reclaim what you took. You accuse us of
sending
him here? To
murder
.”

“Boy was found by Marina in her chamber,” Koen said. “He was sent to kill her. He confessed all to me. You now tell us that the boy is not a nameless slave, but a royal.” His voice was ruthless, cutting. “No, you tell me he is
the heir
of a man we fought with bitterly for decades. Tell me, Eldermon, what conclusion should I draw?”

It was difficult to keep her face composed. Marina knew Koen understood it was Katya Ja who’d ordered Boy to kill her, not the Mages, so what was he doing?

“Ryuk was missing for over eight years. It was not us.” Murtada stated this firmly, meeting everyone’s gaze.

He realised they were now on the defensive.

The Dragon King was far more cunning than he appeared.

Behind the curtain the Eldernmoot considered the male a brutish creature ruled by instinct. The original peace treaty had been agreed without much open inference on his part.

Murtada now wondered if the Mages perception of the beast male was true. The King’s advisor, Lord Kol, was well known to them and considered skilful in arbitration. Such a male would not display unfailing respect for his liege if he were devoid of political guile.

This encounter proved Koen Raad was not only a warlord. He was a shrewd adversary well versed in oblique negotiation.

“It was not us,” he repeated. “I think you know this. We would never send one with royal blood. Bastard or not.”

Sniffing, Koen retook his seat, mightily displeased to do so.

The move to end the meeting had not taken.

He propped an elbow on the armrest and waved his hand, dismissing the rationalization as weak. “You said yourself the Wastelands are at the brink of civil war. How do I know your Battle Lord did not organize this attack upon my Treasure? Perhaps he sought to solve two problems. Had Boy succeeded in his mission he would be dead either by my hand or yours when I demanded it in vengeance.”

The Eldermen shared a look of dismay.

This was not what they expected, and the unexpected was not welcome to these erudite men.

“More discussion is needed,” Shukri said grudgingly. Frustration was the predominant emotion in his throaty voice. “We shall reconvene–”

“Next week this same day.” Koen motioned for Daniil to note it on the political stones. He was not about to be ordered about in his own throne room. “Until then you will enjoy the diversions between the quests of Aver.”

The Eldermen railed against that proclamation.

“
Too long
,” Shukri said. “What possibly do you have to discuss?” He went rigid, the bones in his dreadlocks knocking together. “Unless you mean to waylay us and secret Ryuk away.”

“The child should be held under supervision of both delegations,” Murtada said quickly when the Dragon Lords growled in offence. “It is impartial and ensures both sides remain sincere.”

“You dishonour us by inferring we should do such a thing,” the Regent said harshly.

“We will not underestimate the declarations heard here today.” As he spoke, Shukri slid a suspicious look at Marina.

Slighted on her behalf, Koen snarled.

“It’s okay,” Marina soothed, fully aware getting a hold of her son was akin to finding a rainbow and holding smoke. “If it helps them trust us let them anoint him with an honour guard. Dragon Lords eager to do our bidding surround them, after all. Such assurances tend to lessen needless fears.”

“We are not afraid,” Shukri protested.

Marina’s lips curved. It wasn’t a nice smile. “Never said you were.”

The smell of baked bread and grilled fish filled the midday air.

Stomach’s rumbling, perturbed by the morning’s work, the wearied Dragon Lords traipsed towards the winding passage leading to the lower Citadel levels.

Grabbing Marina’s wrist, Koen gave a sharp command.

They sighed. Turned and followed as the Dragon King shifted to scale the outside of the Citadel, a ranting Princess held tightly in his claws.

Entering his chamber, Koen dropped Marina onto the rumpled covers of his bed then reclined regally. His serpentine neck drew back and his snout lowered.

Intrigued by the room she’d never seen, Marina craned her neck.

The room was opulently furnished, the wood heavy and dark, the fabrics in shades of black and green. Odd items scattered amongst the furnishings stood out against the opulence.

A boulder eroded and covered with claw marks sat by the shoulder-high fireplace. Was it a scratching post? A chunk of driftwood barred the decorated entrance screen. That was less confusing. Koen liked privacy.

Marina blinked and her lips trembled with a smile.