Invasion and Dragons Page 4

  The servant bobbed his head, his face also red. He pulled out a kettle and a small cup from beneath the cart, filled it, and placed it before Landon. He moved on to Sierra and she requested the tea as well, along with Diego. The servant left the pot on the table in front of them.

  “I want a clear head for this,” Diego said, taking a sip. Landon nodded in agreement. He picked up his fork and prodded the food on his plate. It was a large pork cutlet smothered in a dark brown sauce with rice on the side. Although it smelled delicious, the food looked like a log marinated in sludge swimming in white paste.

  He glanced around at the gathered men and Sayre as they ate and conversed. They talked about petty noble things like clothing, the wine, and hunts, yet glances shot his way. The Lythran next to Sierra glanced at him more often than the rest, as if afraid Landon would disappear.

  Landon decided the best course of action was to ignore them, especially the Lythran. Cutting off a small piece of pork, he stuck it in his mouth and chewed. It was surprising how good it tasted. He tried the tea, which had a bittersweet flavor he rather enjoyed. Landon dug into the food, hungrier than he realized. He kept up the appearance of a recovering victim, cutting his meat into small pieces and chewing thoroughly before swallowing.

  Even with his pacing, Landon was the first to finish. After scraping the last bit of rice onto his fork and delivering it to his mouth, he sat back, content. His parents were almost finished with their food, but the others picked at their plates while they made light conversation. Landon wondered if they were waiting for someone to start the discussions, or to finish with their meals.

  “How does this work?” Landon asked softly so only his parents heard. “Back home, the judges listen to all sides of the problem and then talk about different solutions until they reach a compromise. Do—er, kings do the same thing?” He glanced at Sayre and Dre’Goran, who were deep in conversation.

  Diego chewed his food thoughtfully. “For the most part, yes,” he said, “except each person wants the Seal for one reason or another. Sayre, Niklas, and ourselves may be the only ones who can wield it, but these men are capable of manipulating us into using it for their own means.”

  Landon nodded, eyeing first Sayre then Darrin. “You think Darrin would as well?”

  “To protect Tsuregi, yes,” Sierra answered firmly. “Darrin claims he and Kastunaka would never use us to conquer another nation, or allow any Tsuregan for that matter, but if the Wizard’s Seal was the only option to protect Tsuregi then our gracious hosts would force us to use it.” Sierra moved her rice into a pile and worked it onto her fork. Her hands trembled a little. “All in all, Landon, these men and Sayre will write a treaty that will establish peace and get them what they want at the same time.”

  Landon stared at her. “How? That sounds impossible.”

  Sierra turned her brown eyes on him. They shone with sympathy and anxiety. “It is very possible, musuko. It requires a lot of clever words and patience, but by dinner they will have a treaty written that will be to each of their benefit—including hers.”

  Landon felt sick to his stomach. He picked up his cup and nausea subsided somewhat as he sipped the tea. “At least Nircana won’t get thrown in the mudhole,” he whispered.

  His parents nodded, and a snicker came from the Lythran sitting beside Sierra. “I am sorry,” he said, waving his hand and flicking his nose in the same motion. “But if you think the Nircanians will gain something from this meeting, you are mistaken. They did not even send a representative. Clearly they do not care about what is going on in the world.”

  Landon’s eyes flashed. “They weren’t ev—” he started, but Diego spoke over him.

  “They did, Maccioli,” Diego said. His mouth curled into a pleasant smile. “They sent us. I don’t know what Hiro,” he nodded to Katsunaka, “or Darrin told you, but the Nircanian judges appointed us as their representatives. They knew none of you would accept their presence at this council. Therefore, in his own terms, after the manner of Nircana, Chief Judge Temmings appointed us as Nircana’s ambassadors a week ago. I have the document to prove it.”

  This drew the attention of the Lythran king, the Caborcans, and High Ruler Egorov. Landon steeled his face, acting as if this wasn’t news to him.

  The Lythran, Maccioli, frowned. “I was not aware the Nircanians had ambassadors.”

  “There are many things about the Nircanians you don’t know, Lord Maccioli,” said Sierra. “They are just as much afraid of war as you and would be very helpful in finding a solution for peace. Did you know that they were told to not even bother attending this council?”

  The Lythrans shook their heads as though appalled at the suggestion, yet Landon knew they weren’t. The Caborcans exchanged covert glances, relieved that they didn’t have to deal with the judges. Egorov smirked and let out a small chuckle, taking a generous swig of his wine. Landon wanted to throw his cup at the Maisan king. The only reason he didn’t was because Niklas sat beside Egorov, and he wasn’t going to risk a misaimed throw.

  Maccioli smiled, flicked his nose again, and brushed imaginary dust off his sleeve. “Is it true your son killed a Twin of Heaven all by himself, Diego?”

  Landon stiffened. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

  “Humor us, lad,” said the Egorov’s advisor. He shoveled a sauce-drenched cutlet into his mouth, smacking his lips as he chewed. “Menrian Borikan Twins are legendary—and for good reason. Many of my best soldiers soil themselves when they see a Twin. I would argue that Angen and Ashrin Hastril were the most terrifying Twins to ever walk the earth.”

  “If it is true you slew one without assistance,” said the Lythran king, “and survived his Twin’s vengeance, that is cause for celebration, Landon. It is legendary! If you were Lythran, I would reward you with gold and land.”

  “You would, Berado,” said Issachar, smirking. “Rumors say your men mistook some of those bandits several years ago to be the Hastril Twins. I heard a full battalion ran screaming like children when they thought they were facing them.”

  King Berado’s light-brown eyes flashed. “Mistook? I know for a fact Angen and Ashrin Hastril tried to start a war between my country and Tsuregi. I have accounts from villages along the southern border that describe those two in detail, Issachar.”

  Kennin snorted. “Your witnesses must be mistaken, Berado. I assure you all Borikans were present in Menrye at the time, celebrating my son’s coming of age.” He beamed at Niklas. “It was a celebration that lasted a week. There was no way my men could have been there.”

  “I trust my people, Drakshu,” said Berado, angry. “I know you deliberately goaded my subjects into fear while looking for him.” He jabbed his fork at Landon. “I almost have a mind to call a sovereign trial for all that you and your wife did by Issachar’s leave.”

  Kennin sneered and opened his mouth to speak, but Katsunaka rapped his knife on his plate. “Gentlemen, stop this at once,” he said, glaring at the two. “Accusing King Issachar of warfare is not the purpose of this council.” He straightened in his chair, conveying an aura of power that surpassed the others. “King Issachar and the Drakshus are here as my guests. You will respect them as such, regardless of past deeds.”

  Berado bobbed his head, first to Kastunaka then to Issachar. “All the same, I toast you, Landon Dayn, in not only killing a Twin but surviving his brother’s revenge.” He raised his goblet. “May others who find themselves in the same unfortunate predicament have as much luck as you.” He drained his cup and signaled a waiting servant for a refill.

  He was copied by Maccioli, the Caborcans, and Darrin. To Landon’s surprise, the Dagnorians, Dre’Goran and Tan’Loraen, toasted as well.

  “Don’t do that,” he said, uncomfortable.

  “Why not?” asked Sayre. She dabbed her lips with her napkin. “You are a miracle in their eyes, Landon. Many Borikans want nothing more than to invade Nircana and slay you and your entire family. It took myself and the king a l
ong time to quell their rage. After much negotiations, the Augurs—our priests, so to speak—agreed that, although you survived, enough of your blood was shed to redeem Ashrin.”

  Landon flinched as if he had been struck. Sayre gazed at him as though expecting him to thank her for her kindness and mercy. Landon averted his face, picking up his cup and sipping the tea instead.

  “What about his Twin?” asked Egorov. His eyes glittered with the feral hunger of a mountain cat. “Was he not killed when Landon was rescued? Surely his soul requires vengeance.”

  “Yes, his soul is lost,” Sayre said, pausing dramatically. “King Issachar and I are doing all we can to find the criminal and bring him to justice, but we have found nothing.”

  That sentence brought both relief and trepidation to Landon’s soul. He tried not to show it as he drank. He had forgotten the Menrians would be hunting for Angen’s killer. He knew who killed the Borikan Twin. Myra still felt guilty about it. Landon told her time and time again that he would be dead if she hadn’t fired that arrow into Angen’s neck.

  “Why are you investigating this?” asked Diego, his eyes flicking between the Menrians. “I thought a Twin’s Revenge falls to the next of kin?”

  “It would,” Landon said quietly before any of the Menrians could answer, “but Angen and Ashrin have no family. They’re all dead.” He remembered Sayre telling him this when he was tied to a tree, blinded and disoriented from pain.

  Everyone, including Landon’s parents, gaped at him, and then Issachar burst out laughing. It was a high-pitched laugh that grated Landon’s nerves. “By the Gods, Landon, that is correct! Skirmishes, hunting accidents, and disease have caused Angen and Ashrin to become the last of the Hastril line. Therefore, Angen’s death falls to myself, an Augur, or my advisor,” he motioned to Sayre. “As king, it is my duty to ensure that a Twin’s soul is saved through the shedding of his, or her, murderer’s blood.”

  “You know don’t you, Dayn,” said Niklas. It was not a question. His voice was quiet, yet it echoed around the room. “You know who is responsible.” His eyes, which were so much like his mother’s, bored into Landon. “All we know is that the person was Nircanian and neither my mother nor I have had any helpful visions pertaining to the matter. We just see you, fiddling with something small . . . something like a wedding band. . . .”

  Landon’s hand tightened on the cup as every head turned in his direction, eyebrows rising in curiosity. Diego and Sierra stiffened by his side. “I would think,” said Diego, “that if we cannot call a sovereign trial, then a Twin’s Revenge is also out of the question.” Diego’s voice was strained, as if he was trying to hold back his fear or rage.

  “Come now, Diego,” said Egorov’s advisor. He was a portly man with hair so yellow it was almost white. “Whoever killed the Twin is safe for now. Thanks to the Wizard’s Seal.”

  Landon glanced at his parents. A part of him was relieved that no one was pressuring him for that information, yet he didn’t like the proud expressions on the Menrians.

  “What do you mean, Stephan?” asked Sierra. Her voice was smooth and calm, yet her eyes flicked from the Maisan advisor to the Menrians. “The Wizard’s Seal didn’t spare my son from Angen’s revenge, so why is it protecting Nircana now?”

  Stephan mixed the rest of his rice with the sauce, taking his time to answer. Landon bit his lip so he wouldn’t demand that the man stop stalling. “Because too many people across the continent know about the indestructible wizard amulet,” he said patiently.

  Diego narrowed his eyes. “That still does not answer the question. Please explain.”

  “It is simple, Diego,” said Kennin. “Nircana was on the defense, and while we were confident a skirmish with Nircana would hurt them more than us, our soldiers were . . . hesitant to enter.” Although Kennin kept a plaintive look, Landon sensed his disgust towards his men’s fear.

  Landon couldn’t help but smile. He thought Menrye just didn’t care about Nircana, but they were as nervous about the “wild peasant country” as everyone else. They did leave Nircana as a last resort for eighteen years when scouring the continent for him.

  “And your people are all right with Angen’s soul sitting in limbo, unavenged?” Sierra asked with the faintest twitch of a smile.

  Her question earned a hostile glare from all four Menrians. “Believe me, Sierra, I had a search party assembled and ready to enter Nircana,” said Issachar, his dark eyes glittering, “but my wonderful advisor told me to wait. We needed the Seal out of the way before we could safely avenge Angen’s soul. The Augur was not pleased with our decision, yet understood the wisdom in it.

  “Once the treaty is written, however, I will have to insist, for the sake of Angen’s soul, that his killer be given to me. To refuse would not only damn my own soul but bring down the anger of the Augur and all my subjects.” Issachar focused on Landon, his face melting into false remorse. “I know how much you care for the Nircanians, Landon, but I have a duty to my gods. My hands are tied.”

  Those words swirled in Landon’s head. His people had been almost attacked without knowing, and Myra was now the target of a Twin’s Revenge. Worse, it would be this slimy king and a Seer who would carry out the punishment. The pain and despair he suffered at Angen’s hands flooded to his remembrance, and he imagined that happening to Myra—beautiful, angelic Myra whose only crime was that she loved him.

  Rage erupted in Landon, and his blood boiled. He wanted to jump to his feet, but his parents seized his arms beneath the table. They were whispering words to him, but his anger clouded his ears. “Tied? Your hands were tied?” Landon cried. “How about we break your ankle and send you hopping around the room?”

  “Landon Dayn,” said Darrin, speaking for the first time, “you will control yourself or I will have you escorted from the room.”

  Landon turned on Darrin, who was just as greedy and self-centered as the rest of the men and Sayre. He gathered his breath to unleash his rage.

  “Landon!” Diego’s grip tightened on Landon’s arm to the point it hurt. “Calm down. It’s just words, Landon—just words to rile you up. Calm down, please.”

  His soothing voice pushed through Landon’s anger. The tunneled vision and anger dissipated, leaving Landon disoriented. He sensed the laughing eyes, the smiles hidden behind forks and goblets, and shame filled him.

  “Sorry, Dad,” he said. He felt his face blushing furiously and avoided the rulers and advisors’ eyes. “I’m . . . I’m okay. Sorry.”

  “You have no need to apologize, musuko,” said Diego. “I understand your fears.” He squeezed twice with his hand, conveying he was thinking of Myra too, and released Landon’s arm.

  “Seeing as we are finished with our meals,” said Katsunaka, as though nothing had happened, “let us begin our discussions.” He clapped twice and servants appeared to remove plates and refill goblets as requested.

  Landon was surprised to see that every single person had picked his or her plate clean. It felt like the kings had been talking more than eating, yet they had somehow managed to consume everything. A large sheaf of parchment, ink, and a quill were brought to Darrin. A rotating disc was placed in the center of the table, and the tea kettle and wine bottles were set upon it.

  Landon watched the servants gather dishes, working up the self-restraint to speak civilly. “Begin?” he whispered to his parents. “Everything so far has just been table conversation?”

  Diego’s mouth twitched with a smile. “Yes. Is your head hurting yet?”

  “It feels like a horse kicked it,” Landon admitted.

  “I know what you mean,” said Sierra. She rotated the center disc until one of the tea kettles was in reach. She refilled her cup and sipped it. “May Jeshua and His host of angels be with us.”

  Chapter 3

  Once the last servant disappeared through the camouflaged door, Katsunaka continued. “I wish to express my deepest gratitude to those of you who have traveled far to be here. It was not the most con
venient time for many of you, and yet you came.” He nodded to Issachar and the Drakshus, Egorov and his advisor, and Landon. Landon stiffened, shocked that he was included.

  “As you all know, there are many rumors about the Wizard’s Seal, and more are conceived every day. Therefore, I wish to abolish any rumors you may have heard with the truth.” He turned to Diego. “Lord Dayn. Will you please explain how your family came into the possession of the Wizard’s Seal, what it does, and how it is used?”

  Diego nodded. He began to explain the history of the wizards and Thirien Keene. He reiterated the wizards’ search to preserve their power, the discovery of imbedding their magic into inanimate objects, and the creation of the Wizard’s Seal. He told the gathered men and women how the wizard Christovan had taken the amulet and bound it to Thirien’s bloodline, allowing only a descendent of Thirien Keene to use the Seal. Diego explained that Seers could access the power through one of Thirien’s descendants, and the power within the amulet prevented it from being destroyed. He emphasized Sayre and her family’s search for the Wizard’s Seal: how their visions were the reason he and Sierra were imprisoned, and Landon was hidden in Nircana for eighteen years.

  Landon looked around, remembering the alliances Darrin had said earlier. The Lythran and Caborcan kings sat on the same side as he and his parents, and the Menrians and Maisans were on the opposite side of the table with Dre’Goran and his advisor. It was like a line had been drawn down the table and Kastunaka and Darrin straddled it. Their faces were grave, two mediators faced with a formidable task. Although the rulers and advisors lounged in their seats, their eyes flicked about the room, sizing each other up like birds over the last worm. Already they were plotting ways to manipulate the treaty in their favor.

  When Diego finished, Katsunaka nodded. “Thank you, Diego. Although many of you may be satisfied with that knowledge, I find it applicable for Sayre Drakshu to give us her family’s history.” He motioned for her to begin.