Page 17 of Of Scale and Blood

Damon smiled, though there was very little mirth in it. “Only to remind me that my duty lay with him and Zephrine.”

“That’s an odd thing to say, given you’re his heir, isn’t it?”

“My father is nothing if not odd.”

I couldn’t disagree with that, but there was more to the situation than what he was saying—especially given my mother’s intuition that Aric was lying. While her seeress abilities could be somewhat reticent, and nowhere near as strong as her ability to mind-speak to animals, they weren’t often wrong.

“Yes, and one of these days you’ll trust me enough to tell me why that is.”

“When it is safe to do so, I will.”

I frowned. “Why would you, of all people, have to worry about safety when it comes to your father?”

“It’s a long story, and not one I have any desire to detail without several flagons of ale within reach.”

A statement that made me wish I hadn’t cancelled my drinking session with Kele, just so we could mull over the enigma that was my husband.

We continued on in companionable silence, working our way through the feeder tubes and then the rough-cut black stone tunnel that led to the vent situated midway between Esan and the second aerie entrance. It was a long walk down the mountain from there and, by the time we reached the external gate, I was wretchedly tired. It had been alongday.

The guards saluted as we approached, then the older one said, “The commander awaits your report in the long room, Captain.”

I returned the salute and moved through the gate once the second guard had opened it, then glanced at Damon. “You should come with me. Your father will no doubt get a report from mine, but given the amount of distrust he exudes, he might also appreciate a personal report from you.”

“I think the correct wording there is ‘expect’ rather than ‘appreciate.’”

“What on earth has happened to cause such a rift—” I stopped and held up a hand. “Yeah, I know, you’ll tell me when you can.”

“This whole situation is not what it seems.” His reply was grim, his expression dark. “And there are lives depending on my silence. Which is more than I should ever share right now, and I would appreciate it if you kept that information to yourself. And if you see Gayl, avoid her.”

Gayl was his aunt and mentor—of what I had no idea—and a rather strange woman who barely even looked my way, let alone talked to me. And despite the fact she’d been his ring bearer at our marriage ceremony, they didn’t seem to be very close. I was also under the impression she’d returned home with his father, but obviously, I was wrong.

And what lives were on the line? Hers? It didn’t sound like it from what he’d said, but it was still a worrying admission. What in Vahree’s name was happening in Zephrine? What, exactly, hadn’t they told us? Whatever it was, I could only hope it was sorted out long before I ever moved to the wretched place.

We came out of the dark tunnel and moved into the large courtyard. It was ringed on three sides by the palace, the administrative and military center that sat atop the wall, and the palace stables and tack area, with the fourth wall being the high soaring mountain. By day this whole area was a mass of noise, color, and a multitude of aromas as men and women went about the daily business of keeping the place running. But with the onset of night, most had obviously returned to their homes if not their beds. It was really only the night patrol that remained. I saluted those who crossed our path and clattered up the metal stairs leading into the administrative building’s main corridor before heading right toward the military section. Our footsteps echoed softly in the shadowed silence, announcing our presence long before we approached the heavily fortified war room. The guards saluted and opened the thick metal door as we neared; I once again returned their salute and stepped inside.

The room beyond was a long but gently sweeping space that spanned the full width of the wall, with thickened windows that swept its length on both sides; one provided a view across the courtyard while the other looked over Esan’s great outer wall. Eight long-viewing scopes lined its sweeping curve and, from this height, the soldiers manning the outer wall looked minute. Beyond it, Mareritten lay stretched out like a map, enabling us to see any attack long before they reached us. It was a huge advantage the Mareritt had yet to find a way around.

Although maybe they now had, given the attack on the patrol last night. If they’d been sighted along the edges of the marshlands, we really should have seen them with the long viewers, at the very least.

One long table dominated the center of the room, while multiple smaller ones were dotted about, holding strategic maps and troop placement boards amongst other things.

My father sat at the far end of the table. Mom wasn’t here, which surprised me a little, but Vaya and Jarin—the day- and night-shift generals—sat either side of their commander and king, Rion Silva, who was also my father. He was a tall man and broad of shoulder, with weatherworn brown features, golden eyes, and a thick plait of gray hair that hung halfway down his back. That plait was a conceit I followed, even if it really wasn’t practical when it came to war. But then, skirmishes with the Mareritt aside, it wasn’t as if any of us had truly seen war.

My father gave me a quick, warm smile before stating briskly, “Captain Silva, please make your report.”

I stopped at the end of the table and stood at ease with my hands behind my back. Damon continued on and claimed the chair to my left. I quickly and without emotion detailed everything that had happened with the attack on the aerie above Hopetown, and the odd cloud that had turned out to be acidic.

My father scrubbed a hand across his unshaven features wearily. “This all just gets better and better, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t get why they would attack the drakkons,” Jarin said. “They’ve already proven to be basically ineffectual against the birds.”

“Perhaps the riders believe that, given the effectiveness of Bryn’s attacks on them so far, that our drakkons are very much the same as their birds,” Damon said. “That is, a flighted force we can use at will.”

“That’s more than possible,” my father said. “Vaya, get word out to Hopetown immediately—tell them we think an attack is imminent.”

Vaya rose and hastened down the room to the table holding multiple quill tablets.

“If there’s one bit of good news to be gleaned from that report,” Jarin said, “it’s that the effects of the cloud—and possibly their acidic shit weapons—can be neutralized by water.”

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