Page 4 of Red Dragon
Dolok shrugged. “They’re both from the Wingborn Tribe. It’s likely Shi wanted them as protection.” His eyes narrowed. “But this could all be a ruse, a chance for them to enact an odious plan.” He looked at Mosworth. “Ourprincessmay have given them the invitation they needed to come personally to try to finish what they started two weeks ago. Killing the rest of the Moonmarks and eliminating the shield around Castle Island.”
Syla shook her head bleakly. No, her healing of General Dolok had done nothing to endear her to the man.
“Show the tribal leaders to the throne room, please, General,” she said. “I’ll meet with them, find out if there’s a way to get them to leave our people be, and then I’ll send them on their way before they can enact any odious plans.”
His salute was even curter than the earlier one, and he and Mosworth pivoted on their heels and strode away, boots clacking on the marble floor.
Still bleak, Syla tried not to feel like she was completely inept and incapable of ruling a kingdom, but it was hard. What if she’d made a huge mistake?
2
Captain Vorik stoodin the bow of theRegal Dragon,gripping the railing and keeping his face neutral as the craft sailed into Sky Torn Harbor, several Garden Kingdom military vessels escorting it. Their crewmen kept glaring over while fondling their cannons. Several were aimed directly at the wooden dragon figurehead in the bow of the dragon ship; another was cheekily targeting the curving tail that extended from the tafferel in the stern. That was more an artistic feature than a tactical one, and its destruction would merely be symbolic, but the Kingdom soldiers probably wanted to humiliate as well as retaliate.
Vorik couldn’t blame them for longing to open fire, not when his people had invaded their capital so recently, delivering tremendous damage. And he’d been a part of that. Never had he believed he would be sent back to this island on a diplomatic mission.
Asupposeddiplomatic mission. That was what Vorik had been told it was, but he had his doubts. It hadn’t escaped his notice that a lot of talented troops from the Sixteen Talons and also the land-based Storm Guard had been brought along.
He gave his brother and superior officer, General Jhiton, a sidelong look, wondering why the two of them had been assigned to this mission. Their tribal leaders had plenty of talented troops capable of acting as bodyguards, should they worry about the locals attempting to capture or shoot them.
Griffon-fur cloak clasped back, hands gloved, face statue-hard, and short salt-and-pepper hair riffled by the sea breeze, General Jhiton stood beside Vorik, taking in everything as the ship approached a dock. When Vorik had learned they would come along on this journey, his brother had been in the middle of planning the conquest of Harvest Island. Their people had already flown in on dragons and plundered it, taking foodstuffs that could be stored in their caves for the winter, but Jhiton wanted to completely capture and hold the island, using it as a launching point for the rest of his military goals: taking over the entire Garden Kingdom.
“Mind if we stop at the market for fruits and berries on the way up to the castle?” Vorik asked lightly.
Jhiton gazed impassively at him, though the scar on his cheek made him look mean and hard even when his expression was bland.
“If we arrived with some, Princess Syla might bake a cobbler for us.” Though Vorik always maintained military decorum with his older brother in public, he wasn’t that worried about bringing out Jhiton’s mean hardness. Yes, Jhiton could be pushed and was utterly deadly when angered, but he’d raised Vorik after their father’s death, and, despite pushing ruthlessly during training, Jhiton had never truly lost his temper with Vorik. “Adeliciouscobbler. We’ve got nothing like their desserts back home.”
“In the aftermath of our attack, I doubtbakingis her priority.”
“Maybe she has people who bake for her now that she’s… Actually, I don’t quite knowwhatshe is. Did our intelligence say? Has it been confirmed that all her siblings were killed? Is she the queen now?”
Vorik didn’t know whether to hope for that for Syla’s sake or not. During their time together, she hadn’t implied she wanted the position of kingdom ruler or felt qualified to take it, but shehadbeen determined to help her people and fulfill her mission, and she’d done exactly that. To his detriment and even embarrassment. He smiled ruefully.
Oh, his people didn’t know the details of how Vorik had let her seduce him and knock him out with those odious candles—thankfully, even Captain Lesva hadn’t been there to witness that—but having his dragon turn on Jhiton's during the battle…
Technically, it hadn’t been Vorik’s fault, and it wasn’t unheard of for dragons—who always had their own motivations, agendas, and grudges—to turn on each other, but Jhiton and Vorik were respected leaders among their people. Havingtheirdragons get into a skirmish, while their fellow officers, not to mention boatloads of gardeners, looked on… had been egregious. Vorik wouldn’t have blamed his brother for demoting him or putting him in shackles for a few weeks.
Apparently, his black dragon, Ozlemar,haddemoted Agrevlari among their internal ranks.
Since that battle, Agrevlari had been composing poetry, an ode to the beauty and magnificence of Wreylith’s horns, tails, and fangs. He didn’t seem full of regret.
“She is not queen,” Jhiton said after a long pause. He’d been observing ranks of gray-uniformed troops marching out onto the dock with swords and crossbows. “From what our spies have gathered, she is unlikely to become so.”
“I wouldn’t bet on that. If she wants the position, she could claim it.”
Jhiton's next look wasn’t condescending, but it was… knowing. Even though Vorik had made his reports as brief as he could get away with, especially in regard to Syla, his brother was no dummy. And Lesva had seen and guessed a lot more than Vorik would have wished.Herreports, he’d learned, had been quite extensive and vitriol-filled. Thankfully, she hadn’t been assigned to this mission.
“It’s her blood right,” Vorik felt compelled to explain. “And she’s determined. And wily.”
“Clearly. She learned quickly that she could win your loyalty by baking you a fruity dessert.”
“She doesn’t have myloyalty. I just like her.”
“Especially her boobs.”
“Those are nice. Gardener women are…” Vorik used his hands to sketch feminine curves in the air.
“Well fed.”
