Page 61 of Red Dragon
“Do we shoot the dragons?”
“No.” That was Captain Radmarik. “Continue to Harvest Island.”
“There’s a dragon on the wheelhouse, sir!”
“He can come too.”
Fel staggered into the doorway, a bloody gash on his sweaty face but his mace in his hand. He spotted Vorik promptly, and anger rather than relief boiled in his eyes.
“You!” He pointed the mace at Vorik, then curled his lip at Vorik’s arm around Syla and her leaning on him.
“He came to our assistance.” Syla thought about pulling away from Vorik, lest they look like lovers, but her legs were still weak. Besides, she didn’twantto pull away. Still stunned and distressed by having killed the man at her feet, she needed support.
Fel didn’t spring at Vorik, but he growled and flexed his hand on the grip of his mace.
“I’ve missed you as well, Sergeant,” Vorik said. “Though my pining is for the princess alone, my back is ever bored and bereft without the need to stay alert to the possibility of you swinging a weapon at it.”
“Bored and bereft?” Fel curled his lip again.
“Do you not care for alliteration? We enjoy it immensely in our ballads and chants. It helps with the memorization too.”
“Are the ladies all right, Sergeant?” Radmarik looked through the doorway.
Fel turned partially toward him but didn’t seem to want to take his gaze fully from Vorik.
Vorik was unconcerned about him, only keeping his arm around Syla and nudging the dead man with the toe of his boot. “Did you handle this one, Your Highness? You may not have been as in need of saving as I believed.”
“I need…” Syla didn’t know how to explain her distress. She should have been ebullient to have survived, but the dead man would haunt her, especially since these were her own people. That was almost as distressing as everything else, that soldiers who’d faithfully served the royal family her entire life had abandoned their loyalty in a heartbeat with her mother’s passing. “I don’t know what I need,” she whispered, then let herself fall fully against Vorik and removed her spectacles so she could bury her face in his shoulder.
Maybe she shouldn’t have displayed her feelings for him openly in front of others, but, as strange as it was, she could trust him more than any of the soldiers in the Kingdom military. And even the crewmen of the whaling ship were in question. Might they not have taken coin from General Dolok or whomever was behind the assassination attempt? Fel and Teyla were the only people here she could fully trust. Captain Radmarik might helpher, but he’d already admitted his wife was waiting to see what happened, not throwing her weight behind Syla.
Tears leaked from her eyes, but she hid them in Vorik’s shoulder. In a minute, she would gather herself and be strong.
“Isthatdragon getting a ride too?” a crewman outside asked.
Syla remembered that she’d seen different-colored scales.
“If a dragon wants a ride, it’s best to give him a ride,” Radmarik said.
“A wise policy,” Vorik said while sheathing his sword and wrapping his other arm around Syla. “You’re not injured, are you?” he asked softly, the words for her alone. “Just… distressed?”
“Yes.” She turned her head enough to wipe her eyes.
Vorik rested the side of his face against her forehead and stroked her hair. A tingle of warmth swept into her. Ah, that was nice. She hadn’t realized how much she longed to be comforted.
“Sir?” A stormer in black rider leathers stepped over one of the bodies and into the doorway, blurry in Syla’s peripheral vision. Was that a sword in his hand? He kept it at his side. “Do you need help questioning the princess?”
Fel, standing inside the door now, growled at the man and raised his mace.
The newcomer eyed him and halted but soon looked to Vorik and Syla. “Er, is she crying, sir?”
“Yes, it’s how I question women,” Vorik said. “They’re more likely to burble secret Kingdom intelligence when they’re weeping and distraught.”
“Oh. I see, sir.” Did the bastard soundapproving? Maybe he just appreciated his captain’s wit.
Syla wiped her face again, put her spectacles on, and looked Vorik in the eyes. “Questioning the princess?”
“That’s not in my orders,” he said quietly, holding a finger up toward the stormer. To keep him back so that he wouldn’t overhear?
