FireDrake (3 page)

Nico shrugged. “They don’t tell me everything, for all this King-Consort stuff. I think it actually prevents some of them from spilling what they know to me. They seem to be worried about insulting or angering me.” Nico shook his head in clear disgust. “It was easier to get answers when I was just plain Nic.”

Drake knew Prince Nico’s alter-ego disguise quite well, having helped Nic gain acceptance among the Jinn and others during his time abroad. The persona had been invaluable in helping Nico accomplish great work as Spymaster of Draconia, but all the Jinn knew Nic was now wed to their new queen. The time of them speaking plainly to warrior Nic was clearly over.

Drake smiled. “Even as Nic, there was never anything plain about you, Nico.”

All three men smiled as they rose from the table they’d been using. “I bet you’re happy enough to postpone further confrontations with your family, though, right Drake?”

He sighed. “You’d win that bet. I confess to being—” he shot a look over to the gorgeous peach dragon sitting to one side, watching all, “—more than a bit overwhelmed.”

Roland turned to Jenet. “Would you mind relaying my apologies through your parents? I need Drake at work tonight. He can join the family tomorrow.”

“We’re all happy to serve, my liege.”
Jenet stood and joined the men near the dragon-sized door.
“Though Mama Elena will undoubtedly be disappointed. Still, she’s
waited this long. One more day matters little.”

Drake heard a startling new maturity in the girl-dragon’s words and tone. He’d have to remind himself she was no longer the baby dragon he’d left behind.

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Drake crossed the oversized footbridge—one of many newly constructed to connect the old city of Castleton with the new Jinn settlement just on the other side of the river.

Jenet had been convinced to stay behind, but Drake suspected she wasn’t far away. She’d been his ever-present shadow since almost the day she’d been hatched and he’d felt an ache in his soul for the past fifteen years without her. He hadn’t quite realized it until he’d seen her again. She fit at his side as if they’d never been parted and he was made to realize what had been missing from his life for the past years…Jenet.

It was a dangerous thought. Drake had turned his back on all that when he left home.

His boyhood dreams of being a knight like his sires—being Jenet’s knight—had died that day. So much had changed in the intervening years, Drake doubted he could ever go back. The fact that such a thought even crossed his mind indicated to him just how seriously being back in Draconia was already affecting his judgment.

The new town looked like nothing so much as a Jinn encampment, albeit on a grand scale. Drake felt instantly at home. Colorful banners, decorations and signs graced many of the newly built structures as well as the many tents that were still in use while more permanent quarters were under construction.

Already the familiar sounds of tavern bustle could be clearly heard, along with the unmistakable sound of Jinn music from almost every direction. These people had adopted Drake when he’d struck out on his own as a teen and they were his family as much as those he’d left behind in Draconia.

And now the Jinn were here, in his homeland. The wanderers were settling at last, at the base of Drake’s childhood home, the royal castle of Draconia. Stranger things had happened, he was sure, but he didn’t know when or where.

Drake looked around, spotting a likely place to begin his evening’s work. He recognized the banner over the open flap of a very large tent. It belonged to a long-time friend and master spy named Devyn, who just also happened to be a brewer of excellent quality. Devyn had last plied his trade in a tavern deep in Skithdronian territory, but it www.samhainpublishing.com 19

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looked like all the Jinn were pulling up stakes and gathering here in Draconia, even those with established businesses elsewhere.

Drake hitched the soft case that held his lute a bit higher on his back as he set off with a jaunty step. Traveling minstrels were the norm rather than the exception among the Jinn and few he passed looked at him with anything other than welcome. Drake of the Five Lands had made a name for himself with his musical talent, even among the gifted Jinn. His music would be welcome and his notoriety would work to his advantage.

At least, it always had in the past.

Shouldering through the open tent flap, Drake scanned the large common room.

Newly-made chairs congregated around tables that looked to be only temporary conveniences—just sawhorses with planks thrown across. The sounds of construction came from behind the bar area set up at the back of the tent and Drake guessed this would be the home of Devyn’s next brewpub once the building was completed. It was a good choice of location, close by the main road from the footbridge and well upstream, where the water was clear and near enough the base of the mountain to be easily defensible.

But Devyn had always been a crafty man. Good in a fight, he was also a skilled elicitor of information. He had high standards for the ales and wines he both made and served, and hired only the best cooks he could find. A meal at Devyn’s was guaranteed to be both wholesome and hearty.

Drake suddenly found himself famished. The wafting aromas of meat stew helped his hunger along and he decided to stop here for dinner. The time spent would serve several purposes. First, he’d have a great meal. Second, he’d have a chance to chat with Devyn and learn the lay of the land. Devyn was connected enough to be able to shorten Drake’s search for certain informants considerably. Third, he’d undoubtedly be asked to sing, which in turn would spread word of his arrival in the new town. Keeping a high profile had been one of Drake’s most useful tools as a spy. People always knew where to find him, and stray compliments and conversations with strangers were never remarked upon. Notoriety had its uses, he’d discovered quite early on in his covert career.

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So Drake bellied up to the bar, placing his lute, in its padded case, next to him. It was early enough in the evening that the room was only half-full and there was plenty of bar space to go around.

“Do my weary eyes behold Drake of the Five Lands?” Devyn’s booming voice floated to Drake, eliciting a smile of satisfaction as he turned to greet the older man.

“They do indeed.” Drake was at his showiest, bowing low before being swept into a quick, bone-crushing hug by Devyn. “It’s good to see you again.”

Devyn stepped back, his lined face wreathed in smiles. “And you, Drake! I hadn’t thought you’d ever expand your travels to include a sixth land. What brings you to Draconia?”

Devyn walked around the bar as he spoke, his tone lowered so their conversation could be somewhat private. Drake weighed his response. Coming clean about his origins to a select few would harm nothing and might even help him now that the Jinn had decided to settle here.

“I was born here, you know.”

Devyn’s face showed his surprise. “Truly?” The barkeep poured a mug of his best ale and set it before Drake. “Now why in the world would anyone ever leave such a beautiful land as this? I always thought you were a bit daft, my boy.” Devyn’s teasing words were accompanied by a dramatic shake of his shaggy head and Drake had to chuckle.

“It’s the old story. Disapproving parents and a stubborn child. I ran away from home in my teens and never came back.”

“Until now.” Devyn’s wise face held understanding and the patient kindness that Drake had found in so many of the Jinn.

“Until now,” he agreed, taking a long sip of Devyn’s most excellent ale. “This is delicious,” Drake complimented the man, changing the subject as he lowered the mug to the bar.

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Devyn nodded, allowing himself to be redirected. “The air here is wonderful for my brews. This is the first batch that’s been brewed since I started working on the new pub and even I am pleased with the results.”

“So you’ve just opened for business?”

“Only just,” the barkeeper agreed, “though I’ve been here quite a while. It takes time to get a business up and running, especially since I sold my last tavern lock, stock and barrel. I’m building everything from scratch here. The chairs came first, ’cause I figured people had to be able to sit on something. Tables will be next, though we’ve been working on the structure at the same time so we’ll be able to move indoors before winter comes.”

“Sounds like you have this all planned out.”

Devyn nodded. “I’ve done this before, but never on this scale. It’s been a challenge, but one I enjoy.” He wiped down the bar and picked up the padded instrument case with a speculative gleam in his eye. “Will you play for us later?”

“Thought you’d never ask.” Drake winked with a grin. “But is that mutton stew I smell?”

Devyn laughed good-naturedly as he placed the lute behind the bar in a safe place.

“It is indeed. You can sing for your supper, just like in the old days.”

“You have a deal, my friend.”

Devyn returned a few moments later with a heaping portion of stew, a hunk of fine wheat bread and a selection of fresh fruits and cheese. More ale was poured as he placed the feast before Drake.

“Devyn, you’ve outdone yourself. I doubt I’ll be able to sing enough to compensate you for this kind of abundance.”

But Devyn only winked. “To tell you the truth, I’m getting the better end of this deal.

Drake of the Five Lands is quite a draw. I’ve sent out runners to spread the word of your arrival.” Devyn paused while Drake realized the man knew just why Drake had chosen his establishment to make his first public appearance. “I’m sure the place will fill up in short order and then we can get down to business—both of us.”

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Drake knew Devyn would make a good deal of coin from the night, but the old man probably realized Drake would set about establishing his contacts in full view of the entire bar. It was an ideal situation. Drake didn’t have to go out and find his people.

Knowing he was in town, most likely, they would come to him.

Drake dug into the tasty meal while Devyn went about his business. Already the place was starting to fill up as darkness began to fall. Food was served in large quantities and Drake noted the efficient serving girls Devyn had running about the place, filling mugs, stacking plates and keeping busy. Several of the bolder young women had sent him significant glances and Drake knew he wouldn’t have to leave alone tonight, if he wished, but heavy thoughts weighed on his mind. The rumors of trouble brewing for the young princes, the drama with his family, the ever-present shadow of Jenet in his mind…all these things and more distracted Drake from even the idea of bedsport with any of these handsome maids.

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“Is this seat taken?”

The feminine voice was strong and not at all flirtatious, but Drake almost dreaded turning to find another of the cooing maids at his side. That the female had been able to sneak up on him at all was a testament to his distraction. With an inward sigh, Drake turned to face the woman.

And stopped dead.

This was no maid. This was a warrior woman, in the grey uniform tunic of the Castleton Guard. She was an enforcer of the law, a keeper of the peace, and she was clearly on duty, though apparently on her dinner break.

She looked tired. There were circles under her pretty grey eyes and a weary set to her shoulders.

“I was saving it just for you, my dear.” Drake’s charm was automatic and the fire that entered her eyes was his reward. It wasn’t a spark of interest, but rather, of battle and Drake was intrigued. He looked at her more closely as she sat next to him at the now-crowded bar.

Her jaw was set in a stubborn line, and her features were strong. Some might say her features were unfeminine, but Drake would not. No, he’d always preferred strong willed women over the more meek style many men seemed to favor. This girl was beautiful in a harsh sort of way that appealed to him greatly. Sleek muscles moved under her close-fitting tunic and she wore her badge of office with clear efficiency and pride.

She wasn’t armed that he could see, but then that didn’t mean much. Each of the town’s Guards was armed in some way, carrying the weapon or weapons of their choice.

For some, that was a sword or even a bow, but others had different specialties. He wondered idly what hers was while he finished off his meal.

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The serving girl who’d replaced Devyn behind the bar greeted the woman with a friendly, familiar smile. Apparently this Guardswoman was known to the people in Devyn’s employ and welcomed by them. That spoke volumes for her character as far as Drake was concerned. Jinn didn’t usually accept outsiders easily and Drake read not only acceptance, but genuine friendship in the serving girl’s words and actions toward the other woman as she served up a healthy portion of stew and a lighter beer that would leave the Guard with a relatively clear head after her hearty dinner.

Drake observed, not intruding on the bundle of feminine power sitting next to him while he finished his own meal. She ate with neat manners, though it appeared she was used to rough living, as most warriors were. Often, women didn’t choose professions where they would be in the thick of a fight, though there were a good number of female Guards who worked in administrative ways or who dealt specifically with domestic issues and violence against women or female prisoners. This woman, however, showed every sign of being a patrolling Guard—one of the most dangerous of the Guard jobs.

“Quiet night so far?” Drake asked conversationally when it looked like she was finishing up her meal. It had been far smaller than his own, considering her much more petite size compared to him. She was trim and lithely muscular in a way that made his mouth water.