Dragonoak: The Complete History of Kastelir (41 page)

“I guess,” I mumbled.

Katja was hardly thrilled with my answer. She finished off the last of her tea, cup and spoon placed neatly on the saucer, and I drank the rest of my water in large gulps, thinking we'd be leaving soon. I was a novelty of sorts to Katja, I wasn't so naïve as to believe otherwise, and I hadn't proven myself to be as interesting as she was expecting. There was nothing profound about a bare-footed simple life, no farm-bred wisdom I had to pass along.

Still, when I began fidgeting, knitting my fingers together, Katja must've thought I was making ready to leave.

“Sorry if this wasn't particularly interesting to you, dear. I do hope you aren't still feeling under the weather. I had thought that getting a moment of peace here might help you,” she said. “As I said, I do so love this place, and I tend to be a little too eager to share it. It has a rather rich history, you know.”

She said it with a grin, and I couldn't help but say, “It does?”

“Oh, most certainly! Years back, I found some records that suggest a hamlet stood on this spot, some hundreds of years before Autíra was built.
Esarion
, it was called, population twenty-four. But that isn't the interesting part. You see, for seven hundred years before that, the land beneath us went untouched. It was said to have been cursed. Do you know why?”

Katja placed her elbows on the table as she spoke, fingers entwined, and I realised I'd inched forwards, arms bumping against the edge of the table.

“It's said that Kondo-Kana passed through,” Katja said, and I didn't freeze up. There was a heat rushing through me. “There are plenty of accounts of her leaving Myros, but they slowly dry up as she travelled south. They stop altogether, once she reached this part of the continent. It was a farm at the time, or something of the sort. Oh, well—that is to say, the last report that doesn't pertain to, ah. Her end at sea.”

Katja spoke of Kondo-Kana with as much ease as she spoke of Autíra. How was I to respond to that? To nod along, and murmur that it was interesting? My eyes were drawn to the cobbled street, as though the stones were about to slip away from one another, light spilling out of the cracks, revealing the bones of Kondo-Kana herself. Washed out of the ocean and onto the dirt, under Esarion, Autíra, Isin, propped up for all to see, proving that I wasn't the only necromancer in the world.

How could I respond without betraying myself?

I swallowed the lump in my throat and didn't have to say anything. The woman who'd brought us our drinks came over to collect the empty glass and cup, making me jump a little, and Katja said, “I must apologise, Rowan, but I've allowed time to slip away from me. I've business to attend to. Dreary stuff, honestly. I'd much rather spend the afternoon here, but that'll have to wait for another time! Shall we?”

Katja bid me farewell once we'd crossed the bridge leading to the castle doors, and to my surprise, said that she'd like to see me again. I returned the sentiment as eagerly as I knew how, sure I'd be braver once I knew her better. It might take weeks, months, but I was determined to make sure she knew that I wasn't like the rest of the people in Isin, in Kastelir and Felheim. I didn't blindly condemn the necromancers, either.

She left to attend to
official
business,
as she put it, deeming it the sort of thing that wouldn't interest me. Now that she was back in the castle, there were guards on every corner to watch over her, and Akela was relinquished from her rather uncommanderly duties.

Arms folded across her chest, she looked at me expectantly. I didn't tell her to leave, that I was sure she had more important things to attend to, because I was glad of her company. Akela wouldn't have any problem excusing herself with much more than a slap on the back and an
I am going now, yes!

“Do you always do exactly what Queen Kidira tells you to?” I asked as we headed much of nowhere around the outside of the castle, walking along the edge of the moat. “Even if it's babysitting?”

“Of course! Of course I am doing what my Queen is commanding of me,” Akela said, placing her hand across her chest, wounded by the mere suggestion that she might not always follow orders. “If the Queen is telling me to jump to the bottom of this moat, then I am doing it. Why? Because Queen Kidira, she is always having a plan. She is always knowing more than anyone else. Probably, there is an assassin lurking, and I am getting to knock them over the head and take all the credit. See? My Queen, she is most generous.”

I half expected Akela to dive off the edge to prove her point and was half disappointed when she didn't. There was no guardrail along the edge of the moat – Queen Kidira's doing, I suspected – and I inched over to peer down. They must've dug the moat out in order to have the stone to build the castle. The water had to be deep, else no one would survive the fall.

“Besides, it is not babysitting! It is being a bodyguard, yes? And Lady Kouris, I am not minding spending time with her. I am not minding it at all. When I am first coming to Isin, Lady Kouris, she is, hm, fifteen, I am believing that is right. For many years I am knowing her! Of all my moves, this is the smartest. I am thinking, one day, she is going to be Queen—and she will be remembering her loyal bodyguard then, yes?”

I turned on my heels, smirking at her. Akela grabbed my shoulder, lest I spontaneously lose all balance and topple backwards.

“So you have a plan,” I said, stepping towards the castle to stop her from fretting. “And here I was thinking you did it out of the goodness of your heart.”

Planting herself squarely between me and the moat, Akela elbowed me in the side, causing me to veer off course and crush the leaves of an innocent shrub.

“I am doing it for Queen Kidira, yes, and so it is always from my heart,” Akela said, and it was her final word on the matter. “Hm. I am thinking, your Ightham, she is still talking with the Kings, yes? Is there somewhere you are wanting to go? Personally, I am minutes away from an engagement with my pillow, for I am not remembering the last time I am sleeping, but I am not wanting to leave you here, where you are falling off the edge and crushing your skull like sparrow's egg.”

“My—” I bit the inside of my mouth, deciding to start over. The mere mention of Claire and the Kings brought the midday meeting rushing back to me, and the reminder that it was all
real
was as abrupt as it was unpleasant. Drowning myself in the life of Isin and the quiet of what was once Autíra did nothing to change the workings of Felheim beyond. “Could you show me where the stables are? I've no idea where my horse is being kept.”

“Of course, of course!”

Akela stuck close to my side, convinced that I really was going to topple into the moat, and led me around the castle. There were few twists and turns to take; a great lawn opened up beyond a colonnade, littered with gazebos, with a thicket of trees along the far side, hiding the wall that ran around the castle. Several children were taking riding lessons out in the open, and the area was certainly large enough to ride around, though not so big as to get lost in.

The guards strolling around the perimeter had the best patrol the castle had to offer. They spent their day in the sun, occasionally nodding to the nobles enjoying their seemingly endless leisure time, never having to touch their weapons. They straightened at the sight of Akela, quickening their pace, and she chuckled, leading me past the young men enjoying half a dozen types of delicate looking cakes as they spoke over one another about an artist I'd never heard of.

The stables were nicer than my house. Nicer than anywhere in my village, Thane's house on the hill included; nicer than most of the buildings I'd seen in Praxis, honestly. They were made from stone, painted in white and gold, decorated with a frieze of stampeding horses under the edge of the roof tiles. With all the stable-hands the crown employed, it didn't
smell
like as much of a stable as it ought to have.

It was big, big enough for dozens of horses, but hardly fitting for an army. These were the horses of the Kings and Queen Kidira, of the nobles. And of me, it seemed.

“Thank you,” I said to Akela, waving her off. “You've definitely earnt a nap.”

She bowed to me as she walked off backwards, pivoting on the spot and whistling as she headed for her chambers.

The back of the stable was built onto the wall of the castle, meaning that the light didn't reach it as well as it ought to have. As I headed through the rows, it seemed more and more likely that Charley had been placed in the back, where there happened to be an open pen. I took my time, smiling at each horse I passed, patting the friendlier looking ones on the foreheads. Even to an untrained eye, it was evident enough that they were all well-bred. For races, I expected.

I stopped to say hello to a foal curled up by its mother, and it wobbled over to me, curiously sniffing my open hand and shrinking away when my fingers twitched.

Not wanting to give the foal a fright, or earn the scorn of one of the stable-hands, I hurried over to Charley. He was exactly where I'd expected him to be, in one of the less desirable pens at the back. Not that he minded; the hay he'd been given likely tasted better than any food I'd ever eaten.

“Hey, boy. Keeping Calais company, are you?” I asked, rubbing my fingers behind his ears. He let out a non-committal grunt and Calais, in the slightly better-lit pen next to him, gave me an enthusiastic bump on the shoulder with his muzzle. “Sorry about running off yesterday. It's been a crazy few days, boy. You're lucky you're a horse and don't have to worry about anything other than running and eating.”

Charley seemed to agree. His tail swished from side to side and he bowed his head to get at more hay. He looked at me as he ate, getting it caught between his teeth. Calais did the same, albeit much more gracefully, and I was about to say something more, when a voice from the shadows made me jump out of my skin.

“You left this,” Claire said.

I swallowed my heart back down and turned towards her. She was sat off to the side, on a bale of hay, holding my horned helm between her hands. While I should've looked around more carefully before talking to my horse, embarrassment wasn't my first reaction. It didn't even come to mind.

When I looked at her, all I wanted was some way to make it
better.
But what could I do that a Knight, two Queens, two Kings and an army couldn't? But for a moment, when our eyes met, it was enough that I knew, and she no longer had to hide the truth from me.

I stepped towards her, taking the helm from between her hands. It'd been in a bag tied to Charley's saddle, a bag that was now by her feet, along with the books Michael had taken from the castle. I was lucky it hadn't been thrown out. I sat on a hay bale opposite Claire, back against Charley's pen.

“I'm sorry,” I said weakly, because it was all that I could say.

“Sorry?” she asked.

She wasn't scathing about it; she looked exhausted, head tilted against the wall, and her words came out dryly. I'd do better, I'd told myself. I'd make sure Claire knew she had someone to talk to, someone who wouldn't question or doubt the truth behind her words.

I wanted nothing more than to bury my face in my hands and absorb how
wrong
it all was, but I couldn't crumble. Not in front of Claire. I couldn't take comfort from her when she had none left to give. She'd lived with this for months, and she'd fought on. She'd been alone, for much of it.

I scraped together a fraction of the strength she had and tried again.

“I'm sorry, Claire. I'm sorry that you've had to give up your home and your family, and I'm sorry you've been burdened with this. I'm sorry you've had to keep secrets for so long. I know it's not the same, I'm not pretending it is, but I know how that feels. I just...” I paused, turning the helm in my hands, glancing down at it. “I think you're really brave. And I know that probably doesn't mean anything, but I see how tired you are all the time, how much you do, and I want to help you. I can't exactly slay dragons but... well, I'm here now and I know. That's something, right?”

She closed her eyes as I spoke, and though her expression didn't shift, I knew she was listening. I could still see bloodstains that weren't there on the front of her forest-green shirt, and I'd no doubt that she felt whispers of the wound echoing through her; the healers had taken it away too easily for her body to believe that it was truly gone.

“Mm,” she eventually agreed.

Time and time again I'd wanted to trade my powers, to
give
them away, but never more so than now, for the chance to slow the clocks down for a day and let her rest.

“Do you think you could... would you tell me how you found out, Claire?” I asked, trying not to plead with her. I wanted her to speak freely, openly. I didn't want to push her. “I just... I can't get my head around it. And now that I think about it, I can't imagine what else it could've been. I thought you were keeping it from me because of what and who I am, but I was just being selfish. Wanting to believe that it was about me, and not because it was awful.”

Claire opened an eye, let out a breath that caused her shoulders to slump, and stood, looking around. Satisfied that no one was within earshot, she sat, lips parted, no words coming to her.

Feet on the edge of the hay bale and knees tugged to my chest, I gave her the time she needed.

“How I found out? King Garland summoned me one day and told me. In quite plain terms,” she said, pursing her lips back together and laughing flatly. “He claimed that I had been raised for it. Rylan, Alexander and myself. I had thought, at first, that he merely meant matters of succession, and I was not terribly surprised. Alex is a good man, a kind man, but does not have the will of a ruler and has long since been out of the running. He's happier that way. Rylan, however—I never wanted the throne, though I knew it was not my place to deny it, but Rylan did. We started to grow apart, when it became evident the King would be forced to choose between the two of us.

“But that was only part of it. He said I was to begin learning the ways of our Kingdom and told me it all. He told me about the dragons, the planned attacks. It is somewhat amusing, when you think about it; the King had me brought up with this one role in mind, trusted me freely, and here I am. A traitor to family and country both.”