Invasion and Dragons Read online

  Morgan nodded. “We’ll go somewhere else. I told Ryoshin about another room to meet me if I couldn’t get your help. He’ll know to go there instead. And I was planning on the Caborcan disguise, with or without your help, Juan.” He bowed his head. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

  Juan gazed at him, a myriad of emotions playing on his face. He looked worn and tired. Landon felt he should say more, but he didn’t know what. He felt like his heart was being filled to the breaking point with worries. First Myra, then Nircana, and now Juan.

  Morgan turned to Landon and jerked his head towards the bathroom. “Come on.”

  His stomach twisting with guilt, Landon got to his feet. He had taken a step when Juan stood. “No,” he said. “Stay.” He sucked in a deep breath, gathering his composure. “I can handle it.”

  Landon stared at him, but Juan set his jaw, his eyes hard. “I’ll be fine. Besides, it won’t matter once Landon’s gone. All hell will break loose, and they won’t care how it happened. And if we don’t start it then the Nircanians will. It’s only a matter of time before the shock of the invation wears off.”

  Landon’s stomach clenched at that statement, his words to Liliana just hours before echoed in his thoughts. “Even with the treaty, we’ll still have a war,” he whispered, understanding Juan’s reasoning. “Nircana won’t give in that easily.”

  Juan grinned. “What is it that you said to me when we first met? ‘We like our freedom. What makes you think we will give it away?’ If there’s one thing I have noticed, it is that all of us, from merchant to king, underestimates the Nircanians. And when we realize you are a force to be reckoned with, it is too late.” He turned to Morgan. “So, about getting Landon out. How long was Ryoshin going to be?”

  Morgan stared uneasily at Juan. “That was an awesome speech, mate, but I really don’t want you to get—”

  “It’s too late for me to back out now,” Juan interrupted. “I’ve heard too much and I want to help. I may not be able to fight alongside you, but I certainly will not stand by and watch Nircana be destroyed.” He looked at Landon. “I’m not going to let a dragon king take you away. Living in Dagnor sounds like hell.”

  Landon laughed uneasily. “Anywhere but Nircana sounds like hell.” He glanced at the treaty. “I’m taking that with me? To buy all of us more time?”

  Morgan nodded. “The kings can’t sign it, therefore it won’t be official, and they will have to meet again to rewrite it. In that time, any of the kings who were having doubts will get a chance to voice those, delaying this longer. Right, Juan?”

  “Exactly,” Juan agreed. “So, Morgan’s escape plan.” He looked around to a clock on the wall. “I’m going to start forging a letter to Takeshi. I’ll see if I can buy you another hour.” He went to his desk and pulled out a sheaf of parchment. The sounds of a quill scratching carefully on the paper filled the room a second later.

  Landon and Morgan looked at each other, still nervous about the threat they had now placed on Juan. Landon felt like he was walking on a narrow ledge. One wrong move and he would fall to his death. He understood Juan’s reasoning. Not even a day had passed since Nircana had surrendered, and already he and Morgan were defying the kings. Their actions alone would cause war. Yet if they did nothing and bowed to the treaty, then Nircana would retaliate.

  “It was going to happen sooner or later,” Landon said, voicing his thoughts aloud. “War, that is.” His eyes drifted to the treaty. “It’s just nineteen years overdue.”

  Juan twisted in his seat, his face grave. “The kings did a fair job of keeping it at bay, but not anymore.” He stood, a sheaf of parchment in his hand. “No going back now.”

  Landon was about to respond when the door opened. A Tsuregan entered. He was an aged man, with thinning gray hair and plenty of wrinkles on his face and hands. All three youths jumped, and Juan grabbed his sword. He had it halfway out of its sheath before they recognized the newcomer.

  “Ryoshin,” Landon said, relief flooding through him.

  Ryoshin smiled. “Good to see you, m’lord,” he said and winked. “Please change into these. We do not have much time.” He handed Landon a pile of freshly laundered clothes.

  Ryoshin’s voice was calm, but Landon saw he was anxious to be off. Landon wasted no time. He took the garments and disappeared behind the changing screen. He ripped off his Nircanian clothes and proceeded to dress.

  “Uh, Ryoshin,” he said as he pulled on a silk undershirt, “care to explain why I’m dressing up like a trainee?”

  “Yeah,” agreed Morgan, “wouldn’t it be better if he was disguised as a servant? I asked you to get him servant clothes.”

  “In another country, yes, but all the palace servants are Tsuregan,” Ryoshin replied. Landon heard him fiddling with a knapsack. “Most trainees bring their own servants, but many others hire Tsuregans, as your parents did for my wife and me. It is the best way to get you to the laundry rooms.”

  “The laundry rooms?” asked Juan. “How are you getting Landon out again?”

  “With so many trainees, nobles, and politicians living in the palace, the laundry is washed in several places,” Morgan explained, excitement creeping into his voice. “Ryoshin told me most of it goes to washers in the city, but some goes to a large spring just outside of the Great Wall. The carts leave three times during the day, and the guards do not check them thoroughly. He said it was the best way to get Lan out.”

  “You’re sending me out with the dirty tunics and samurai undershirts?” Landon blanched at the idea. He was fastening the navy blue tunic in place, his fingers slipping on the belt and ties.

  “Actually, with some bedsheets,” Ryoshin clarified. “I just need to get you into one of the baskets, and then all you have to do is wait until the cart is through the tunnel. But the last one leaves in fifteen minutes. If we miss it then we will have to wait until supper. By that time, your absence will be noticed.” Ryoshin didn’t say it, but Landon could hear the tension in his voice.

  Landon tied the strings to his trousers, and shoved his feet into the socks and boots. He stepped out from behind the screen. “All right, I’m ready.”

  Ryoshin’s back was turned on the knapsack, and Morgan slipped the treaty into the front pocket. Landon nodded at Morgan, affirming that he knew where the treaty now was. Juan was watching Ryoshin and he either didn’t notice the treaty disappear into the pocket, or chose not to acknowledge it.

  A sword was shoved into Landon’s hands. “Put this on. Proper now, like a trainee.”

  Landon complied. His heart thudded nervously in his chest, but it pounded when he saw the sword’s hilt. “This is my sword,” he noted, and looked at Ryoshin. “The sheath’s different, but it’s my sword.”

  “I stole into your father’s room and switched his sword with a trainee katana,” said Ryoshin guiltily. “I left him an anonymous note explaining what I needed to do. I pray he will forgive me, but I felt it was best that you take the sword and . . . and its cargo with you.” A shadow crossed the older man’s face but he shook it off. “Are you ready? Let us go.” He hefted the knapsack and turned towards the door.

  “Be careful, Juan,” Landon said, clapping his friend on the shoulder in passing. “I will pray that you get no blame for this.”

  Juan smiled. “And I will pray you can get to safety. Good luck.”

  “Have fun escaping the samurai, Lan,” said Morgan with a wave.

  Landon snorted. “Right, fun. I’ll have a joy starting a war.” Fear and excitement coursed through him, and it made him giddy. He winked at Morgan. “Good luck on your candlelight dinner with Liliana tonight.”

  A large grin split Morgan’s face. “Thanks, mate. I’ll win her over. Just you see.”

  Juan looked thoroughly confused, and Landon left it up to Morgan to explain. He followed Ryoshin out the door, straightening his back and fixing his face into what he hoped was a noble expression. Beside him, Ryoshin chuckled.

  “Relax, Landon,” he
whispered. “Many of the nobles are outside enjoying the weather, and the servants are having their lunch. We will meet very few people in the hallways.”

  “Where’s the laundry room?”

  “On the main floor, not too far from the staircase.”

  “I hope this works,” Landon said to himself.

  “Same here, young master,” agreed Ryoshin. He took Landon through the same hidden door and stairwell that he had used minutes earlier. When they exited on the main floor, Ryoshin veered to the right and took Landon down a side hall.

  Landon followed Ryoshin in silence. He wanted to strike a conversation, but he was afraid that his voice might be recognized. His heart pounded in his chest, and the sword felt like a dead weight at his side. Any moment, he expected to hear someone shout his name or for strong hands to latch onto his arms.

  At first the corridor was empty, but then servants began materializing from doors and corridors. Every time a servant appeared, Landon and Ryoshin would start and duck out of view.

  “You said we wouldn’t see anyone,” Landon said, keeping his voice low enough for just Ryoshin to hear. “That’s the fifth person we’ve had to hide from.” He jerked his head to a door that a young woman had stepped into, pushing a cart laden with sheets and towels.

  “They must be coming off their lunch break,” Ryoshin hissed in reply, “which means the carts will be leaving any moment.” The elderly servant patted Landon’s elbow reassuringly. “Stay calm, Landon, we’re almost there. Pray to the Gods that none of the servants draw close enough to recognize you.”

  “Already am,” Landon muttered.

  They came to another servant door. This one had a door knob and a small plaque that read LAUNDRY. Ryoshin held up a hand, signaling Landon to wait, opened the door, and stepped inside. Landon heard him exchange a greeting with a woman.

  “Yoko, were you able to clear the upper rooms all right?” Ryoshin asked.

  “Of course! I may be getting on in years, but I can still work. Oh! That bread you asked for, I have it right here.”

  An arm appeared around the door frame and motioned. Landon, aware he was not disguised in any way yet trusting the servant, went inside. Ryoshin closed the door.

  The laundry room was lined with neatly folded sheets, towels, clothing, and bedspreads. Six large baskets stood in the center. Two were overflowing with linens and sheets, and the rest were empty. Two large vats stood against the far wall. A rank smell of burning plants emanated from the simmering blue surface, making the room warm and slightly stuffy. Landon saw something floating in the water. It took him a moment to realize it was cloth being dyed.

  A woman had her back towards Landon and was rummaging near a pile of rumpled sheets. “Curse these eyes! I can’t see as well as I used to. Where is it?”

  Landon looked at Ryoshin for direction. Ryoshin pointed to one of the filled baskets, made a motion of removing a sword, and mouthed Quickly! Aloud, he said, “Would you like me to help?”

  “No, no, I found it.”

  Landon fumbled at the buckle, his fingers managing to undo the latch despite his panic. With two silent steps, he slipped inside the nearest basket just as the woman turned. He buried himself in the fabric, wrapping the sheets around and over his body until he had a small hole to peer through. He curled into a fetal position and hugged the sword to his chest. His blood pounded in his ears, and he tried to quiet his heavy breathing.

  The woman’s footsteps drew near. “Here you are,” said the woman. “Fresh bread baked at home, as requested. I also threw in red bean too.”

  “Thank you, Yoko. I really appreciate it.” Ryoshin reached across the basket and took a small satchel from her. “With all the ambassadors, advisors, and kings present, my wife and I haven’t had a chance to make any bread for tonight’s supper. You are helping us out a great deal.”

  The woman must have turned away because Ryoshin dropped the satchel, followed by the knapsack, on top of Landon, and shut the lid, plunging him into semi-darkness. Landon pushed the sheets aside enough to pull both bags down to his body. The scent of fresh baked bread and sweetness flooded his nostrils, causing his mouth to water.

  “I know,” said the woman, and she sighed. “There is too much work to be done. I pray every day the kings will write this treaty so I can stop worrying. One of my grandchildren just turned of age to be drafted into the military. He is terrified.”

  Guilt swept through Landon. His actions were going to affect a lot of families. He couldn’t imagine being forced into the army. For a moment, he wanted to back out of the plan. He didn’t want innocent men, or boys, to die on his account, but he reminded himself that war was going to happen no matter what. He had to hope that his actions today would save more lives than lose them.

  “My son is nervous too.” Ryoshin replied anxiously. “Yoko, have the carts been loaded yet?”

  “Yes. Kenchi and Tanu were ready to leave, but one of the horses threw a shoe. Tanu went to get a different horse, and Kenchi is checking the other one. Why?”

  “This basket,” Ryoshin nudged the basket with his foot, “needs to be washed as soon as possible, or else the Lythran ambassadors won’t have anything to sleep on tomorrow. They’re complaining about bed bugs again.”

  “Are they?” Yoko sniffed, more amused than annoyed. “I swear we have washed their sheets six times more than the dishes. I thought my grandchildren were picky, but those Lythrans . . .” Her voice trailed off, and Landon imagined her shaking her head. “Are their sheets in that basket?”

  “Yes, this is it,” answered Ryoshin. “I will be right back. I need Kenchi to help me load it. It’s very heavy.”

  “All right,” said Yoko. Her footsteps receded towards the dying tubs. She began humming, which was almost drowned out by the sloshing of water and sodden clothes.

  Landon heard Ryoshin move away and grow faint. Landon bunched some sheets into a pillow so he could be more comfortable. He peeked into the sweet-smelling satchel, noting several oval shapes wrapped in linen. He smelled cheese and bread in the knapsack, but he hoped a knife or hatchet had been packed as well. He would need to fashion a bow and arrow for hunting once the food ran out. There was also an oblong canteen in the sack. Landon felt it with his fingers, joggling it enough to hear the slosh of liquid inside. Water, maybe? He placed the bags in the space shaped by his body and legs and tried to relax. He felt fine lying in the basket, but he knew that his legs would cramp any moment.

  He heard footsteps coming towards him, and Ryoshin said, “Just the one. You know those Lythran nobles. They find one little pimple on their belly and they think it’s the end of the world.”

  The man he was talking to snorted. “If I had a mind to, I’d tell them to bathe first then go to bed. What’s the point of washing in the morning if you’re just going to get dirty an hour later?” The boots came to a stop on either side of the basket. “This it?” asked the man.

  Ryoshin confirmed it was, and Landon was lifted into the air. It was an eerie feeling to be lifted by the head and foot. The basket pitched forward and back as the two men carried it, and Landon tried to remain as still as possible. He heard Ryoshin grunting near his head, and the labored breaths of the other man at his feet.

  The other man said, “Gods, this is heavy. Did they want their bedspreads washed too?”

  “As I said, they complained about bed bugs.” Ryoshin panted.

  The other man muttered a few choice words. Landon smiled, thinking of Eli. He wondered if his parents were awake yet, and if Takeshi had begun to suspect foul play. Then again, Morgan was helping Juan and if there was anyone who was good at buying time, it was Morgan.

  Angels, I really hope this works, Landon prayed. No sooner had he thought that when the basket pitched wildly, and he was dropped a short distance onto a wooden platform. Of course, laundry didn’t need to be treated gently. His body stung from the impact, and the katana jabbed into his chest. He couldn’t hold back a small yelp of pain and massaged the
sore spot on his sternum.

  “Are you okay?” asked the man.

  “Huh?” said Ryoshin, confused. But then he quickly added, “Oh—er, yes, I’m all right. My finger got caught is all.”

  “That was a heavy basket. I hope they didn’t pack their mattresses as well.” The man chortled, and Landon heard him walk away. “You have a good day, Ryoshin.”

  “You too Kenchi,” Ryoshin called back. And, in a lower voice to Landon, he said, “There’s enough food for a couple days and a canteen of fresh water. Good luck!”

  “Thank you, Ryoshin,” said Landon. He was cut off by a loud crack of a whip, and the cart began to move. Ryoshin called out another farewell, but his words were lost among the clatter of hooves and the creak of the wheels. The cart trundled along the well-paved road leading from the palace.

  After a few minutes, his legs started to cramp. Landon knew the Great Wall wasn’t far, and he yearned for the horses to trot faster. He flexed his feet and pushed against the basket walls with his shoulders. The basket didn’t bulge as much as he’d hoped, but he was able to relieve some of his muscles. It also became hot and stuffy. Sweat trickled down his face and back, but he didn’t dare push aside the bedsheets and crack the lid in case a nearby traveler noticed.

  Landon gritted his teeth and tried to ignore his uncomfortable situation. He told himself that his friends, parents, and Myra would be okay. With the treaty lost, they would fall back under Katsunaka’s protection. Although the samurai didn’t care for the Nircanians, they at least didn’t torture them for sheer pleasure like the Menrians. No, his larger problem was to stay on the run long enough for Nircana to fight back. Should he try to find the judges? Yes. They needed to know what was going on. They had no idea about the Wizard’s Seal and how Landon’s family was involved. He had to tell them.

  But where would they be? Tan’Loraen mentioned that Town was the twelfth prison camp established. The judges would most likely be there, but then Landon would have to sneak in. That alone would be more dangerous than sneaking through a Borikan camp. He expected each camp would be guarded by at least a hundred dragons, and who knows how many men on foot. Probably more since the Dragon Guard had captured Nircana’s leaders. It would be easier for him to find his adopted siblings than the judges, but he had to try.