Stormseer (Storms in Amethir Book 3) (43 page)

"He was overseeing the evacuation of his family."

Talt laughed bitterly. "Are you certain he won't simply evacuate with them? I should have done so."

Birona hissed at her. "Be silent, Talt! Do you think his servants are deaf?" He lowered his voice, and Arisanat could tell he had drawn closer to the woman. He wanted to laugh aloud. They had more to worry about from his spy holes than from the servants.

"I am frightened," Talt whispered. "The palace was prepared for your attack. Can you truly take the walls with another try?"

"Perhaps. But it doesn't matter so much. If we hold the entire city and the king has only the palace, who is truly in command?" Birona grunted. "Burojan fancies himself as king. I don't care whether he's king or not, as long as I can keep this war with Strid from ending."

"Will you protect me and my daughter?" Talt asked.

Birona laughed. "Tarra?"

"Tezira, you fool! My older daughter. My heir."

Arisanat narrowed his eyes. He had known, of course, that Birona was in this for himself. But he had thought Talt a more devoted parent. She didn't care for Tarra—nor, probably, for Tezira. She cared for herself, for her fortunes and her possessions—her heir. Arisanat was doing this as much for his son Varidan as for his brother Venra.

"Enough," he hissed, and went back to his study. His sword was there. He strapped it around his waist and stalked to the drawing room. Talt and Birona were huddled close together in the corner furthest from the door. They jumped apart as he walked in, but while Birona managed to feign nonchalance, Talt was unable to hide her guilt.

Arisanat strode across the room as Birona backed hastily away from Talt. Arisanat's sword was in his hand, and though he hadn't planned it, he suddenly found it good. He thrust the blade through her torso, enjoying the way her eyes widened and she gasped like a fish on a hook. Arisanat jerked his blade back, feeling it rip through her flesh.

"Thus do we deal with traitors and failures," he hissed.

Birona was staring at him. "My dear Arisanat—" he began, but Arisanat didn't give him a chance to finish.

"Are you turning on me, too? May I remind you that I had the reach to kill Azmei in Ranarr and Marsede here, though I was leagues away in the desert? I will not brook disobedience, Birona." He liked how he felt when he was glaring hard at his ally. He liked even more the feeling that his ally feared him. Birona, of all people—Birona of the Third Family, who wielded so much power in the king's Council—Birona feared him.

Arisanat smiled.

There was a long pause. He could see Birona weighing his options. Arisanat would not be able to trust Birona much longer. Clearly the man would have to die, but how soon? How much longer could he still be useful to Arisanat?

Birona drew himself up, his considerable girth making him seem even taller. "I am in your full support, Lord Arisanat. I am hurt that you could doubt me."

Arisanat snorted, but made no reply. The chamberlain tapped politely at the drawing room door. He stepped inside, his gaze never flickering from Arisanat's face. It was as if there was no woman bleeding her life out on the floor.

"My lord, Lord Belnat is here. He seeks audience with you."

Arisanat didn't miss the way Birona's eyes flickered at the word 'audience.' He didn't care. Birona would have to learn sooner or later, or he would have to be slain. This way was tidier, at least for now.

"Show him in." Arisanat wiped his sword on Talt's dress, ignoring for the moment the disgusted noise Birona made.

When Belnat came into the room, his expression was already unhappy. When he saw Talt sprawled on the floor, her sightless gaze on the ceiling, he blanched. "Sleeping gods, Arisanat! I leave to get my wife and children out of the city and return to find you've turned on us? I should—"

Birona gestured sharply at the man, and Belnat fell silent. Arisanat chuckled.

"Should what, Belnat?" He liked how ominous his tone was. For so many years, he had been the simple stone mason. He had been only the king's cousin. Now, he was someone important. It felt good.

Belnat cleared his throat. "I should reaffirm that I am your servant, my lord."

Arisanat studied Belnat through narrowed eyes. The man was a coward, with a painful desire to do whatever made him most popular. But at least he was weak. He would not defy Arisanat, not yet.

"Very good. Birona, Lady Talt offends me. Remove her to the dining hall. We will have supper served in here." Neither of them said anything, but Birona moved hesitantly closer to the body. Arisanat smiled and paced back to his favorite chair. "Chamberlain! Bring me whiskey."

Chapter 30

Azmei had never imagined seeing her home like this. She stared down at the ground as it rushed past. Seeing the desert they had spent weeks crossing spread out, seemingly endless, before her...it cut at her heart. It was so wild, so beautiful. So vast.

One of the dragons bellowed and as one, the two dragons in the lead—the defiant red that Azmei rode and Yar's green—angled to the left, flapping their wings to gain altitude. Looking over her shoulder, Azmei could see that the other four followed. Their formation was breathtaking, it was so seamless and precise. She imagined how the dragons must fly together for hours, dancing through the wind and around each other's wings and tails.

Her head was pounding. The red dragon, Rexiel, had warned her through Yar that travel like this might make her sick from the motion or the pounding of the wind. Neither of those bothered her, though. A dragon in the air moved nothing like a horse, but at least she could transfer those same skills to moving in concert with Rexiel's flight. The wind drove tears from her eyes, but her carefully wrapped clothes kept the worst of it from touching her.

She was certain it was the voices of the dragons, talking to each other and to Yar, that had given her such a headache. Something about them was too big for a human's mind to comprehend or contain. Something in Yar was different enough that he could manage it, and now that he had Joined with the dragons, he was even more changed. Azmei didn't envy him that.

Her back ached from the strain of holding on with her thighs and calves. She didn't have to; the dragons had suffered them to wrap makeshift harnesses to give the humans handholds. Still, she couldn't get over the instinct that said she should ride like a horse. The tight muscles of her back and shoulders had to be making her head pound worse. She jerked upright and realized she had been slumping again, her head drooping.

"Azmei!" It was Yar, and she could tell he was repeating himself. "You can sleep. Rexiel says to rest. He won't let you fall."

She wanted to believe him, but what if the dragon didn't notice her starting to slip until it was too late? She craned her neck to stare at Hawk. He was slumped over against the blue dragon's neck, one arm slipped through the hand strap. She couldn't see his eyes to see if he were asleep, but if not, he was at least relaxed. How could he be so comfortable?

She looked back to her left, where Yar was watching her, a mixture of amusement and frustration on his face. "You can trust him!" he shouted over the wind.

Azmei nodded. "I know!" she shouted back, but she couldn't deny the flicker of fear, like the taste of copper and salt water at the back of her throat. With a sigh, she shoved her arm through the hand strap, pushing until she could crook her elbow around it. That put her at an awkward angle, so she shifted her hip around and leaned forward. It wasn't completely comfortable, but it was much better than she'd expected, and to her surprise, Rexiel's movements felt almost like the rocking of a ship.

Azmei smiled, picturing a ship in full sail across the sky. What would the desert people think of that, if they saw it? A quick, lithe schooner like the
Dawn Star
, the ship Prince Vistaren and his friend Arama had sailed, cutting through the air above the sand. It made her chuckle. She slipped easily into a sleep laden with dreams of ships and whispers.

When she woke again, they were still flying, but not as swiftly. The powerful wing beats had turned into a glide. She slipped her arm out of the hand strap and sat up, yawning. Rexiel rumbled at her, so low she didn't hear it, but felt it vibrate under her and inside her head both. "Where are we?" she asked, knowing he would understand her, even if he couldn't answer.

There was a squeezing in her head, which revived the throb that had settled during her sleep. Azmei winced, but then Xellax and Yar slipped in above them. Yar leaned over, grinning at her.

"Sleep well? We flew through the night, and Xellax tells me we are near the capital city. She says much has changed since she last came this way."

"When was that?" Azmei asked. How long did dragons live?

Yar shrugged. "Many lives ago."

She peered down through the morning light. They were higher than they had been, so high the canal underneath them looked like painted glass instead of water, except for the little boxes that must be canal boats. She wondered if anyone on the boats had looked up and seen the dragons. Would they recognize them, or just think them eagles, flying higher than human could reach?

"Is that the Tamlikin Canal?"

"I don't know what that is," Yar said.

"It's the canal that stretches from Tamnen City through Lishan and all the way to Meekin." She looked up at him. "It's how I got to Meekin when I came to you."

His expression brightened. "Yes, Xellax said she remembered Lishan—but she said it had grown since she saw it last." He grinned. "Grown from a handful of houses and a town hall, she said. That must have been forever ago."

Azmei's eyes widened. Many lives ago, indeed. Lishan was not as large as Tamnen City, or even Meekin, but it was a city in its own right, and boasted a university and a dozen or more guild halls. She eyed Xellax with respect that was trying to edge into awe. How could a being so vast and ancient care about humans? Even one special human boy who could talk to her?

To distract herself, she looked ahead of them and stiffened. On the horizon, she could see a dark smudge in the sky. Tamnen City? Was the capital in flames? What had happened?

"Where's Hawk?" she shouted.

"Here, my lady."

Hawk's voice was nearer than she'd expected, and she realized that Rexiel was flying above the blue dragon who carried Hawk. She twisted to peer down at him. "Do you see—"

"I do. I've been watching a group of riders and wains. Look there." He pointed to the southwest. She followed his gesture and realized there was a caravan riding at haste away from the capital. "There are refugees, it seems, but the fighting hasn't spread this far."

Azmei wasn't sure if that was a comfort or not. She yawned again and fumbled at the pack strapped to her back. What she wouldn't give for coffee—but a sip of water would have to do. The leather of the water skin crackled as she squeezed it; frost rimmed the mouthpiece. Thankfully the water itself wasn't frozen, so she was able to wet her throat.

"We should go lower," she called to Yarro. "I need to see what's happening."

There was no signal, but as one the dragons began spiraling into a slow descent, turning and turning so she could keep the caravan in sight. When at last they were low enough that she could discern the symbol on the standard, she sucked in a breath. "Belnat! Thank the gods."

Hawk's gaze was steady on her face. "You feared it would be your brother."

"Has the palace ever been defended before?"

"Twice, both times successfully. Prince—King Razem has General Kho with him. They will be well." Hawk's quiet confidence gave her courage.

"Let them see us!" she shouted to the dragons. "Let everyone know that dragons fly with Azmei to Razem's aid!"

Rexiel, at least, was pleased by the suggestion. He bellowed so loudly it shook her. Below them, the caravan burst into confusion as horses whinnied and shied and people stared up and screamed. Xellax joined in, her voice higher and more melodious than Rexiel's, and at that, the other four added their voices, a strangely harmonious battle cry.

Azmei laughed, raising one fist in defiance. Arisanat may have been fool enough to defy the crown, but Razem was cunning enough to keep it, and Azmei brought allies to his side. The dragons flew to Razem's aid. Not at his bidding, no, but at least in his defense.

As they pulled away from the caravan, the dragons swung around wide to the west. Azmei was blinded by the glitter of the sea. She shielded her eyes until they adjusted, then she stared hungrily at the city where she was born.

Tamnen City was in agony. There was no fighting at the outer city walls, but there was fighting in the streets. From this vantage point, Azmei could see barricades at several key intersections. The city guard looked to have control, but somehow that didn't look like a good thing. Rexiel drove up in a steep climb, spiraling as he did. Azmei saw a ship putting out to sea. The docks flew Razem's standard.

And so did the palace.

"To the palace!" she screamed, leaning closer along Rexiel's neck. "My brother will be there, and he will welcome you!"

Rexiel trumpeted his agreement and banked to the right, bearing for the tallest tower of the palace. As they broke over the outer palace walls, a flurry of arrows hissed up at them, disappearing into smoke as Rexiel exhaled a flame just large enough to destroy them.

Azmei laughed in delight as Rexiel settled on the parapet. She shouldn't enjoy frightening her brother's soldiers, but she was glad to know they made an imposing sight.

"Cease your attack!" she called. "I am Azmei Corrone! I come in support of my brother, King Razem!"

***

Razem was leaning over the map in the war room, consulting with Kho, Ilzi, and Tarra, when a sharp rap on the door interrupted their discussion. The captain of the tower guard was standing there, sweaty and out of breath as if he'd run through the palace from the towers. "Majesty, General," he said, snapping out a salute, "you're going to want to see this. We've, ah...the situation has changed."

Razem made sure his sword was still belted on and dashed after Kho as he followed the captain. Behind him, he heard Ilzi and Tarra's steps ringing on the stone in pursuit, but he didn't waste time telling them to wait. Ilzi was as strong-willed as a desert tortoise, and Tarra had made it clear how personally she took Razem's survival, now that she had betrayed her blood to warn him. Let them come—they had proven better allies than the head of the First Family, after all.

To his surprise, when they reached the stairs, the captain went up rather than down. So at least it wasn't a breach of the palace wall—but why climb inside the palace? He didn't have the breath to voice the question, though, and Kho trusted the man, so Razem would follow blindly for the moment. As it turned out, when they reached the top of the tower, he had no need to ask his question.

He reached the flat roof of the tower and stopped so abruptly Ilzi ran into him, her armor bruising his elbow. Then she gasped and clutched at his arm. Razem's mouth dropped open and he stared, his heart racing and his lungs unable to draw breath for a long moment.

A vast crimson dragon stood, neck arched, wings spread, surveying them with glowing golden eyes that were currently half-closed. Circling overhead were half a dozen more dragons of all colors. Two of them had human figures on their backs—and at that, he brought his gaze back down to the crimson dragon. Astride its back was a slight figure in off-white robes, her hood down so dark curls could spill around her face. Her golden eyes and tawny-skinned face were alight with triumph.

"Brother!" she cried. "I brought you allies!"

Razem found he could move again. He sprinted towards the dragon, shouting, "Azmei!" His sister slid down the dragon's shoulder and tumbled into Razem's arms. They were squeezing each other so tightly he couldn't catch his breath again, and he didn't care. She was so strong and slender in his arms, and he had thought he would never see his sister again, and suddenly, despite everything that was wrong in the world, Razem found he could feel nothing but joy.

Finally he kissed the top of her head and let her lean back, though he kept his hands on her shoulders. "Thank all the gods," he choked. "Azmei."

She grinned up at him, and he could see there were faint lines at the corners at her eyes that had never been there, but she had the same crooked, impish grin, and if her hands were more calloused from the hilt of a sword than his, what did it matter? She had survived, beyond all hope, and Razem was not alone in the world after all.

"You'd better reassure your troops that we're really here to help. The tower guard recognized me, thank the gods, but dragons are a bit...mm, unnerving, after all." Her eyes danced with mirth at the understatement. "We were lucky they agreed to send for you—though I don't think they could actually have hurt the dragons."

Razem lifted a hand and waved, and he heard Kho shout for the troops to stand down. "Do you think all six can land here?"

"All six don't need to, but we'd better have Xellax and Vetterix come in." Azmei turned to indicate the red dragon behind her, and Razem's brain froze as he realized how close he was to the massive being. At this distance, he could see the crimson scales were edged in black, the golden eyes flecked with red. He swallowed and offered a bow from one monarch to another. He could sense the dragon's amusement, somehow, but the creature made no movement other than to lower its head.

"This is Rexiel," Azmei said. "Rexiel, this is my brother, King Razem of Tamnen."

She turned back to look up at Razem. "I'm sorry I stayed hidden from you all these years."

Razem considered his words before speaking. "I...can't pretend it doesn't hurt," he admitted, "but I'll have time later to be upset. For now, we have a few obstacles in our way."

Azmei grinned again. "Opportunities, you mean. This is your chance to show everyone what a strong and cunning king you are. Look at the mighty allies you've brought to your side."