Rage of the Dragon (23 page)

Neda was tight-lipped, however, and would say nothing more. She seemed not to hear Aylaen when she asked her other questions, even innocent ones, but sat in brooding silence.

The skiff slid beneath yet another stone arch and entered the largest chamber yet.

“The palace of our Queen,” said Neda proudly.

Shafts of sunlight poured down from various skylights set in the walls, all of the beams converging on the palace of the Sea Queen that stood on an island in the center of a blue-green lagoon. The walls of the palace were of many colors: pink and orange, black and gray, they glittered in the sunlight. The palace was simple in design, consisting of four walls in a square with a round tower at each corner. A great many large windows admitted the sunlight and salt-tinged air.

Aylaen gave a soft gasp at the extraordinary beauty. Neda eyed her approvingly and explained that the palace was fashioned from granite and the sheltering walls were striated with sparkling mica.

The skiff docked at the island on which the palace stood. Neda and Aylaen were met by Aquin female guards, who saluted the commander and stared rudely at Aylaen. Neda spoke to one of the guards, relaying Aylaen’s demand that her males were to join her. The guard first frowned, then looked shocked and disbelieving but said she would consult Her Majesty.

Neda led Aylaen into a garden filled with exotic flowering plants; the perfume suffused the air. The palace was not very large, not nearly as large as the palace of the Emperor of Sinaria. Neda explained that only the queen, her consort, two young daughters, and a few servants resided here.

“There are rooms for guests,” said Neda. “You will be accommodated here while the Queen determines your fate.”

“And my menfolk?” said Aylaen. “And the fae child, Wulfe?”

“I have sent one of the guards to make this strange request of yours. We will see what Her Majesty says. Do not get your hopes up,” Neda added grimly.

Aylaen sighed. She felt very much alone in this strange and beautiful world. She missed Skylan’s strong comforting presence, Acronis’s wise counsel, Farinn’s quiet cheerfulness. She even missed Wulfe who, though his unpredictability made her nervous, was rarely daunted by much of anything except the Dragon Kahg.

Thinking of the dragon, she wondered what had become of the
Venjekar
. She hoped the ship was close. As beautiful as she found this world, she did not want to remain here long. This world might be beautiful, but it was not home.

Aylaen ran her hand through her wet hair to drag it out of her face. She glanced down at her sodden clothes and thought that she must look like a drowned rat.

“I am a Kai Priestess of my people, a queen in my own right,” Aylaen said proudly. “My betrothed is the chief of our people.”

Neda was startled by Aylaen’s proclamation and eyed her suspiciously. “You made no mention of this before.”

“You took me prisoner. For all I know, you might have intended to hold me hostage for ransom,” Aylaen returned.

“And now you trust me,” Neda said with a snort.

Aylaen looked around at the slanting rays of sunlight glinting on the palace and sparkling on the water, at the red of the roses in the garden and the pink-red coral in the clear waters below, the gold and silver and many-colored fish swimming amid the gently waving plants.

“You could not live in such beauty, create such beauty, if you did not have such beauty in your souls,” Aylaen said softly.

Neda was surprised by the answer. A sad smile touched the thin lips.

“Once that might have been true…” Neda said. She shook her head and sighed.

The guard returned to say that Her Majesty was not holding audience this day. The Vindrasi female was to be given quarters in the palace. As for the males, the queen would consider the request.

Aylaen was not pleased. She was about to insist that she wanted to see the Queen now, then reflected and kept quiet. She did not want to sound like an impatient, petulant child. And, she thought, the delay would give her a chance to rest and put on some dry clothes.

“When will I see Her Majesty?” Aylaen asked.

Neda shrugged. “Whenever Her Majesty decides. Come with me.”

Neda escorted Aylaen past the guards at the palace entrance, which was a gate made of stone decorated with shining tiles set in a fanciful mosaic portraying all manner of sea life. As Aylaen walked past the guards, she noticed that this palace had no fortifications. The gates were not barred and stood open to the world. She recalled what the commander had said about the Aquins living in peace for centuries.

The inside of the palace was much like the outside. Sunlight streamed through the windows and skylights. A long, wide hall led to a large round chamber with a domed ceiling. Two staircases, spiraling upward, one on Aylaen’s left and one on her right, led off the hall. The hallway was bare of all furnishings, with no furniture, tapestries, or paintings. The walls and floors had been polished, bringing out the natural colors of the granite and glittering mica striations.

A female servant met them at the entrance. Aylaen was relieved to see that this servant was more appropriately clothed, although the fabric was lightweight and seemed very flimsy to her northern eyes. She waited while the servant and the commander conferred. The servant then turned to Aylaen and told her that she would be taken to her room and provided with every comfort.

“Her Majesty has agreed that your menfolk will be present at the audience tomorrow,” Neda said in a dour tone that sounded disapproving. “I will bring them.”

“Thank you,” said Aylaen. “And thank you for your care of me.”

Neda touched her hand to her forehead in what was apparently a salute, then departed. The servant bowed respectfully and gestured for Aylaen to accompany her. She led Aylaen into a tower and they walked up one of the spiral staircases to the top. They arrived at a door with a lock made of brass, the first metal Aylaen had seen in this realm. The servant unlocked the door with a brass key and they entered a large round chamber. Six doors opened off this central chamber. The servant explained that these were the palace’s guest rooms and bathing room.

She led Aylaen through one of the doors into a small room with a pool of fresh water in the center. This was apparently the bathing chamber. Aylaen washed off the salt, which was starting to make her skin itch.

After Aylaen had bathed, the servant took her to one of the bedrooms, elegant in its simplicity. There was a bed constructed of teak. A chair and a small table also of teak stood by a window through which the sun shone brightly.

The servant brought Aylaen a gown made of fabric that she learned later was made of bamboo. Like everything in this world, the gown, a caftan, was comfortable and simple, gliding over the shoulders and buttoning down the front with pearl buttons. Men and women both wore caftans over loincloths wrapped around the hips.

On the table was a bowl of odd-looking fruit and a pitcher of what looked like fresh water. The fruit did not appear to be edible until the servant showed Aylaen how to peel away the outer rind to find sweet, juicy pulp beneath.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Vindrasi Lady?” the servant asked, hovering near the door.

“I would like to see Her Majesty now,” said Aylaen, trying again.

The servant smiled and shook her head.

“That is not possible. Her Majesty spends this day with her children and her consort. Besides, forgive me for saying so, lady, but you look very tired. You should rest.”

The servant drew curtains across the window and then glided silently out of the room and shut the door behind her. The doors to the single rooms had no locks. Aylaen walked stealthily out of the room, into the central chamber, and tried the tower door, but it was locked.

Aylaen went back to her room, frustrated. The bed looked wonderfully inviting, but she was too worried about Skylan and the others to sleep. She was worried about the
Venjekar,
the dragon, and the precious cargo, and wondered what had become of the ogres and the Vektan Torque. She walked over to the window and she wondered if she could climb through it and escape. The room was at the top of the tower, however. The garden was a long, long way down. The air smelled of sea salt and flowers.

Aylaen flung herself on the bed. As she tried to decide what to do, her body made the decision for her: she fell asleep.

CHAPTER

22

Skylan’s experience of the City of the First Daughter was not nearly so comfortable or awe-inspiring as Aylaen’s. The dungeons were located in a part of the caverns separate from the city and consisted of a few rooms gouged out of the stone walls. No prison door slammed shut behind him, and no iron bars blocked his escape. He was not chained to the wall in iron manacles. The Aquins kept their prisoners inside nets suspended from a hook in the ceiling. A soft glow filtered down from skylights.

Skylan had been angry before his arrival and now, left trapped in a net like a mackerel, he was raging. His hands and arms and feet were scratched and bloody from trying to claw through the net. He was hoarse from demanding to know where Aylaen was and shouting challenges to fight that fell on deaf ears. The female Aquin guards standing in the entryway outside the prison cells paid no heed to him except to occasionally glance at each other and roll their eyes in amusement, which only infuriated Skylan more.

“You might as well relax, Skylan,” said a familiar voice. “You are only wearing yourself out.”

Skylan glanced around. He had been so intent upon trying to gain his freedom that he had not paid any attention to his surroundings. He saw with relief that Acronis and Farinn were in the same cell, trussed up in nets of their own. Skylan shook the net in frustration and then slumped down. His gyrations caused the net to spin and swing from side to side.

He had been on the ogre ship when the kraken attacked. He asked what had happened on board the
Venjekar
. Acronis explained that the kraken had attacked the
Venjekar
and the Dragon Kahg had attacked the kraken.

“Not much of a fight,” said Acronis. “The dragon sank his teeth into one of the kraken’s arms and the creature let go and swam off. The mast fell on Aylaen, but she was not badly injured,” he hastily assured Skylan. “Farinn flung himself on her.”

“I owe you a debt I can never repay,” said Skylan, looking at Farinn, who lowered his eyes and blushed.

“You should be grateful to the Aquins,” Acronis was saying. “They saved our lives. Both Farinn and I would have drowned if the women hadn’t put those amazing masks of theirs over our faces so that we could breathe.”

“They saved us only to make us prisoners. Do you know where they have taken Aylaen?” Skylan asked. “I tried to find out, but that she-devil of a guard refused to tell me.”

“Perhaps because you were threatening to rip off her head,” said Acronis dryly. “The commander took Aylaen to the palace for an audience with the Queen.”

“Then I should be with her!” Skylan said, starting to grow angry all over again. “I am Chief of Chiefs! Here, you: I want to see your Queen!”

Two Aquins had entered the prison cell. The two were male, Skylan realized after a moment. He had difficulty telling them from females because they were dressed in long gowns with flowing sleeves. The men carried baskets and drinking flasks made of fish skin. One had a bundle strapped to his chest.

“Finally!” Skylan exclaimed, seizing hold of the net and staring eagerly down at the men. “Tell those women of yours that I demand to see your Queen! I am Chief of Chiefs of the Vindrasi and yet these women treat me like a slave!”

The two men looked at each other and began to laugh.

“He demands to see the Queen,” said one in mocking tones.

“I am certain Her Majesty will be highly honored,” said the other.

“I will rush over to the palace at once and tell her,” said the first, and the two laughed again.

Skylan’s face burned. He shook the net. “I am Chief of Chiefs of my people. That means I am king. They have taken Aylaen, my woman, to see the Queen. If anyone talks to the Queen, it should be me.”

The men grinned and shook their heads, then handed the prisoners flat cakes made of ground wheat and gave them each a flask of fresh water. Skylan was parched, his mouth seemed coated with salt, and he drank thankfully. When the man drew close to the net, Skylan saw that the bundle the male Aquin carried was a sleeping baby.

“Now I understand,” said Skylan bitterly. “You, too, are a slave.”

The man smiled. “I am sorry. You use that word for a second time. I am not familiar with it. What does it mean?”

“A person who is owned by another person,” said Skylan. “Someone who is not free to do what he chooses. He must do another’s bidding.”

“Such a concept is unknown among my people,” the Aquin said, “though it occurs to me now I have heard that you land walkers commit such atrocities.”

“If you are not a slave, why must you carry around that baby?” Skylan asked.

The man appeared mystified by the question. “He is my son. I carry him because I am his father.”

The Aquins picked up the empty baskets and made ready to go, promising to bring them more food the next day.

“Why is the child in your care?” Skylan persisted. “Are you a widower? If so, there must be women who can tend to the boy.”

The man caressed the child, stroking his head tenderly. “We believe it is only logical that the strongest in society protect the weakest.”

“Our women care for our children,” said Skylan.

The man raised his eyebrows. “It is a wonder your people have managed to survive.”

As the two left, they stopped to exchange some words with the female guard on the way out. The woman kissed the child the man was carrying, then kissed the man on the cheek.

Skylan sat down in the net. Trying to find a comfortable position and failing, he ate his bread in silence.

“A matriarchal society,” said Acronis.

“A what?” Skylan grunted.

Acronis smiled. “Matriarchal. A society run by women. Women are the rulers. They are the warriors. The men stay home to guard and nurture the children. He was right. Their way of living makes sense, if you stop to think about it. The strongest protects the weakest.”