The Crown and the Dragon (7 page)

Elenn heard someone screaming as she watched her aunt crumple to the ground beside her, sinking as slowly as if the air had somehow turned to water. From a great distance, she heard shouts and commotion from the prisoners and the Sithians, but paid them no heed.

Elenn cradled her aunt’s head in her lap. The feathered shaft of an arrow jutted out from below Ethelind’s collarbone, a few inches from her heart. Elenn pulled off her cap to stanch the bleeding, but there was surprisingly little blood.

“Forgive me,” said Ethelind. She spoke and breathed with difficulty.

“There is nothing to forgive, Aunt,” said Elenn.

“I failed you,” said Ethelind. “So you must continue alone.”

“No,” Elenn said. “Don’t say that.”

“Let me speak,” said Ethelind. “There is so much you don’t know.”

“We have time,” said Elenn. “You will heal. Use your magic.”

“Please, don’t argue,” said Ethelind softly. The quietness of her voice terrified Elenn.

“The Falarica,” said Ethelind. “It has a greater purpose. Put the pieces back together. It must be restored.” She stopped, grimacing with pain.

“But what can I do?” asked Elenn.

“Tell the Leodrine,” said Ethelind. “The silent ones. Enid’s sisters.”

“I will tell them,” said Elenn.

“Tell 
her
,” said Ethelind. “The Leodrine Mother.”

“I will,” said Elenn.

“Do not fail,” sighed Ethelind, closing her eyes.

“I will try,” whispered Elenn. Tears flowed freely down her face and her nose ran, but her hands were busy holding up her aunt’s head. She couldn’t move them.

“You will prevail,” said Ethelind.

“But I am alone,” sobbed Elenn. “I have no one to guide me.”

“You are… stronger than you think,” said Ethelind, with difficulty. “And older. This is the last secret.” She opened her eyes and looked into Elenn’s. “You were born… early. We hid you.”

“I know,” said Elenn. “You told me. You helped my mother hide my birth.”

“No. Tantillion. Light of fire,” said Ethelind thickly. “The dragon.” She coughed. “Ripped… from the Glyderinge. Born early. Both of you.”

“I don’t understand,” said Elenn.

“Paladin,” gasped Ethelind. Her eyes were wide with pain, but no longer focused. “Leodrine. Crown. The Dragon.” She gripped Elenn’s hands with a terrible strength. “Tell her.”

“I will tell her, I promise,” sobbed Elenn.

Ethelind made no reply, her eyes staring and her jaw slack.

Elenn pulled her aunt’s body close and abandoned herself to weeping.

***

Chapter Ten

Aedin cursed his misfortune as his shot missed Tuliyek completely and hit the nun square in the chest. It had been his one chance—all the other arrows were scattered in the muddy road. He threw down the stolen bow and dashed into the nearby trees.

Since Leif would run, too, most likely leaving behind their hostage with a broken neck, Tuliyek would have to choose between two moving targets. Aedin had been first to run, and he was quicker and less badly hurt. Perhaps the Sithian would chase Leif, and allow Aedin to escape.

The whisper of an arrow zipping past his left arm to embed itself in an elm told Aedin that Tuliyek had chosen to follow him and not Leif. Aedin cursed, weaving through the trees as he ran for his life.

Behind him, the mounted Sithian crashed through the undergrowth. Aedin was thankful for the momentary advantage that the wooded terrain had given him, but he knew that sooner or later, Tuliyek would ride him down. He needed a weapon, like the ones the younger cavalryman had dropped Aedin began bearing left, doing his best to circle back toward the road.

The road was not far ahead, but it sounded like the Sithian was getting closer. Aedin thought it increasingly unlikely that he would make it in time to find a weapon and ambush Tuliyek. His whole body ached, but Aedin forced himself to run faster.

Gasping for breath, he emerged from the elms and found himself once more on the muddy road. A hundred yards to his left lay the cart, along with the body of Nurzod, and his weapons lying in the mud. Too far—Tuliyek would overtake him.

Praying for deliverance, Aedin ran anyway. Less than halfway to his goal, he heard his mounted pursuer burst out of the trees. Tuliyek whooped and his horse’s hooves pounded the road in the mad rhythm of a gallop.

Aedin darted right, into the woods, but instead of following him, Tuliyek raced ahead on the road to cut him off. Cursing, Aedin decided to make for the Shirbrook, where the current would help carry him south. But as he turned, he heard the twin screams of horse and rider. Looking back, he saw Tuliyek flying through the air as his horse tripped and crashed to the ground, its front legs broken

“Leif, you cunning brute,” Aedin murmured.

Running back to the road, he met his fellow prisoner, striding out from the trees on the other side. “That was a piece of luck,” said Leif, holding a large stone in his left hand. “You led him right into my trap.”

“Wasn’t luck,” said Aedin, still out of breath from his run. “I was praying.”

“And I answered,” said Leif, throwing his arms wide. Aedin looked at the road behind them and saw that Leif had strung his rope between two trees, pulling it taut as Tuliyek had galloped past.

“Awful ugly for an angel,” said Aedin.

“I’m a fallen angel,” said Leif. “We have more fun.”

A moan from Tuliyek, who was struggling to stand, got the attention of both men. Leif jogged quickly up to the soldier, who seemed still dazed from his fall. Pulling off the man’s helmet, Leif hit him in the face with his rock. Tuliyek sank to the ground with a groan.

“Ah,” said Leif contentedly, dropping his rock. “Now that was heavenly.” He wiped his filthy hands on the Sithian’s tunic and then folded them as if in prayer. “A few words for the dearly departed?”

“Rabbit-sucker had it coming,” said Aedin. “Check his purse.”

“So let it be,” said Leif, opening his eyes.

Behind them, the horse continued to scream. “Poor beast,” said Aedin.

“Put it out of its misery, will you?” said Leif. He took a sheathed dagger from the Sithian’s belt and tossed it to Aedin.

Aedin caught the dagger, pulled it from its sheath, and cut the horse’s throat. “Rotten shame,” he said, unbuckling the animal’s saddlebags. “Why’d you break his legs? Couldn’t you set that rope higher?”

“The real shame is,” said Leif, ignoring his question, “we don’t have time to cook him.” He threw a small purse to Aedin. It hit his palm with a metallic clink.

Peeking, Aedin saw a glint of silver. “Not bad.” He tucked it inside a saddlebag, which he threw over his shoulder.

“How do I look?” said Leif, now wearing the Sithian’s long cavalry saber, quilted canvas jack, and helmet.

“Prettier than Riverlands sheep on a cold night,” said Aedin. He walked to the other soldier’s body and stripped it. As he took the saber, he admired the fine craftsmanship on the pommel, which was fashioned in the shape of an eagle’s head. Sithian metalsmiths were some of the finest in the world.

The Sithian’s saddlebags held no drink, and only a few scraps of food. Hopefully the cart would have more. The cart itself could be useful, but it would also slow them down. So once it was looted, the cart would be pushed off the side of the road along with the three bodies.

That just left the girl. Aedin didn’t want to kill her. But they couldn’t very well leave her alive—a pretty young girl, crying out for vengeance. And taking her along invited disaster, especially with Leif around. The man simply could not be trusted.

So what was to be done?

“A face so fair,” he heard Leif say, “shouldn’t be marred by tears.”

Dropping the saddlebags, Aedin ran to the cart. Leif was leering at the girl, who looked furious. She knelt beside the body, clutching the dead woman’s head to her own chest, almost protectively.

“Don’t you touch me,” she spat. “Don’t even speak to me.”

“Fiery one, isn’t she?” chuckled Leif.

“She’s had a bad day,” said Aedin, stepping in between the two of them.

“Well, I know what soothes a crying woman,” said Leif, looking past Aedin and winking. “I bet you do, too—don’t you, lass?”

“Gods alive, man,” Aedin hissed. “There’ll be other patrols. Quit wasting time. Get these bodies off the road.”

“Soon enough,” said Leif, wiping the sweat off his bald head with grubby fingers.

“
Want
to get dragged to Tantillion?” said Aedin, stepping in and pushing his face up close to Leif’s.

“Careful, now,” growled the big man, narrowing his eyes.

“You’ve still got their ropes around your wrists,” said Aedin, ignoring the warning. “Boot marks on your ribs. Want more? Fingernails torn off and hot coals shoved up your hinder parts? Can do that for you, myself. First, let’s get the devil away from here.”

Leif’s cheek twitched with anger. But he nodded.

“Good,” said Aedin, stepping back. “Get these Sithians off the road. I’ll take the cart.”

“You’re not in charge,” said Leif, his chin jutting out aggressively. “You take care of the bodies. I’ll do the cart. And I’m keeping the horse.”

Aedin nodded at the Sithian’s slain mount. “Then drag off that dead horse, too.”

“Suits me,” said Leif. With one last lingering look at the girl, he turned and led the horse and cart away into the woods.

Aedin squatted down next to the girl, who stared at him with a fierce hate. Her kirtle was spattered with mud and blood, and her face was streaked and red from crying. She was still beautiful.

“Sorry about her,” said Aedin, nodding toward the woman with his arrow sticking out of her chest. “An accident. Aiming for the Sithian.”

“I saw,” the girl said. “She’s still dead.”

“Who was she?” said Aedin.

“My aunt Ethelind,” said the girl.

Aedin nodded. “And what’s your name?”

“Elenn.”

“Elenn,” said Aedin, “I’m sorry I killed your aunt Ethelind.”

When the girl said nothing, Aedin stood and walked to the body of the closest Sithian, Tuliyek. Grabbing it by the wrists, he lugged it into the trees, opposite from where Leif was stashing the cart.

“You’re pretty casual about all this,” said Elenn, as he walked back into the road.

“Wish this was the first time I stole,” said Aedin, “or killed. We live in bad times, Elenn.” He took Nurzod’s body by the legs and pulled it to lie beside his fellow.

“Times are only as bad as we make them,” Elenn shot back. She glared at him, and then struggled to contain a sob. “Aunt Ethelind said that,” she managed at last.

“Wise woman,” said Aedin, gathering fallen branches to cover the bodies. Glancing up, he saw Leif tying the cart-horse to the Sithian’s dead mount and hauling it away. That just left the women to deal with. Aedin sighed and covered the bodies of the Sithians with the branches.

“We have to go now,” said Aedin. “Afraid we’re taking your horse. And some of your food.” He crossed the road, walking toward the cart.

“I forbid you,” said Elenn. “You will not leave me without a mount, and without food.”

Aedin turned and found her standing. She was tall for a woman, very nearly his height. Her aunt’s body was in the road behind her, laid out carefully. Even in the presence of the man who had killed her aunt, the girl kept her composure. He wouldn’t be able to bully her into coming along. It would have to be her own idea.

“There’s worse things could’ve been taken,” said Aedin grimly. “Worse ways you could’ve been left.” He looked down at his feet. “Not a good man, I admit. But there’s worse. Some day you may be glad it was me you met on this road.”

Looking up, he saw Elenn glaring at him, the streaks of tears still evident on her face, her aunt’s life blood on her hands and smock.

“Maybe not,” Aedin said. “Either way, I’m sorry.”

“Then leave me with my food!” Elenn cried. “I’ll starve!”

“Me too,” said Aedin with a shrug. “Haven’t eaten in days. The Sithians weren’t very good traveling companions.” He rubbed his wrists, which were raw and bleeding from the ropes they had used to bind him.

“You’re no better,” said Elenn. “You’re a murderer and a robber.”

“To stay alive,” said Aedin. It was true enough. “To escape torture and death. What would you have done?”

As he watched her struggle for an answer, Aedin heard Leif’s voice behind him.

“Blackberries! Very nice.”

Standing at the cart, the big man popped a handful of berries into his mouth. With the juice running down his chin, he emptied a leather sack with a dramatic flourish and refilled it with fruits, cheeses, fine smoked meats—all the choicest foods that a well-born lady like Elenn would most prize.

Elenn looked miserable, so Aedin grabbed a burlap bag off the cart. “Here,” he said, bringing it to her. “Oats. Very nourishing. A lot better than most get these days.”

“Come on,” said Leif. He stuffed the sack full of food in the cart-horse’s saddlebag, and then led it off into the trees, carrying the cask of ale under his arm.

“Farewell,” said Aedin, and he left Elenn standing there in the road by her aunt’s body. He followed Leif, who was heading northeast.

“Wait!” Elenn called. “You can’t just leave me, for the wolves and the bandits. I’ll die.”

“Stay on the road,” said Aedin, still walking. He couldn’t let her catch him too easily. The more she fought to attach herself to him, the less trouble she would be on the road.

“You act callous,” said Elenn, catching up to him, “but it troubles you that you killed my aunt. Your friend may not care what he owes people, but you do. And you owe me a blood debt.”

“Go back to Anondea, girl,” said Aedin, shaking his head.

“Let me come with you,” said Elenn, “just as long as we’re headed in the same direction. I’ll be no trouble.”

“Find another nursemaid,” said Aedin. “Just sit right here and wait. Bet you see seven wagons come down this road between now and sunset. And a dozen Vitalion patrols. You’ll be fine.”

“You want to leave me here for a Vitalion patrol to find?” said Elenn archly. “Sitting here in the road with the body of my aunt, whom you slew?”

Aedin stopped and looked at her, narrowing his eyes and exhaling slowly through his nostrils.

“It’s in your best interest to take me along,” Elenn said.

Aedin held up one finger. “One night,” he said. “Morning, we leave you with the first shepherd or woodsman we see.”

“Agreed,” said Elenn. “I’ll get my things.”

“One sack,” said Aedin. “Only what you can carry.”

Elenn nodded, ran three steps and then turned back. “Will you help me bury my aunt?”

Aedin gritted his teeth and sighed. “No time. Best we can do is to leave her on the cart, and pray. I’m sorry.”

Elenn nodded, her eyes full of tears, and ran to the cart.

“Devil take the Vitalion,” muttered Aedin. “This war makes monsters of us all.”

***