Invasion and Dragons Page 6

  “Clearly, you do not know what you are saying,” said Egorov. “Refusing my daughter’s hand in marriage—”

  “Is the smartest thing to do,” Landon snapped. They had asked for his opinion and they were going to get it. “You know very well that marrying me to some princess adds to our problem. The Seal recognizes a marriage, my dad said so. I thought you were trying to keep it from being used, not arrange for another person to use it. A marriage isn’t going to solve anything so long as the Seal exists. And since the Seal can’t be destroyed by human means, marriage is out of the question.”

  “That’s my boy,” Sierra whispered. She flashed him a knowing smile. On the other side, Diego winked in approval, but his eyes were distant. Landon knew he was searching for a loophole in the marriage proposal.

  “Landon,” Katsunaka began. He pressed his hands to the table, his voice imploring him to see reason. “This is the best solution. We can arrange for you to live in Nircana.”

  Landon snorted. “I doubt that,” he said, looking back at Egorov. “I bet she’s never had to stoke a fire in her life, let alone feed chickens or clean a kill. She wouldn’t last one minute in the woods.”

  Egorov’s face turned bright red, and he exploded in Sikhan—yelling at Landon and gesturing furiously. Landon caught kosakuln several times, but he kept a straight and serious demeanor even though he itched to laugh in the ruler’s face. The other rulers said nothing, but their expressions agreed with every word Egorov yelled.

  “I don’t think you should have said that, Landon,” Diego said, smirking.

  Landon shook his head, “I meant every word.” He didn’t hide the contempt in his voice. “I grew up where family matters more than riches, and I want my wife to have those same values. I’m not going to marry anyone you people think of.”

  “Is that because you have someone in mind, Landon?” Sayre asked softly. “You voiced your thoughts several times, but I have never seen you fight this hard. You seemed the quiet type to me.”

  Landon knew she was teasing him about his imprisonment, and he wanted to explode—to yell at her that it was difficult to retaliate when a person was bound and hurt. Taking a deep breath and mustering every ounce of self-restraint, he put on an amused face and shook his head. “Nope,” he said. “Why? Did you have a vision of wedding bells and doves?”

  As soon as he spoke, he wanted to take it back. Landon didn’t want the gathered nobles guessing the girl he loved, especially when she was the very person who had killed Angen.

  “I do not need visions to know when a person fancies another, Landon,” Sayre said. She smiled like a fox, all malevolence hidden behind a mask of friendliness. “That young woman acts more than just a friend around you.”

  Landon rolled his eyes. “She’s just a friend.”

  “No, she’s right,” Tan’Loraen said thoughtfully. “She acts differently around you than the other one, the loud boy.”

  Landon felt himself being backed into a corner, but he refused to give the nobles the satisfaction of knowing that. “That’s just Morgan. Anyone would act different around him.”

  “Landon,” Darrin said, “I know we are asking much of you, but please do not fight us on this.” The Samurai Master’s voice shook from the effort to keep it steady. “We have nothing but a weak compromise to prevent a continental war. I know your country is ill-represented, but it is in as much danger as the rest of us. If not for your personal happiness, then do this for Nircana.”

  “No,” said Diego. He set his tea cup on the table with a loud chink. “Do not pretend you regret Nircana isn’t represented, Darrin. Through lies and deceit, you made sure none of the judges came. This marriage proposal won’t work. End of discussion.”

  Silence settled over the table. “Care to explain why?” asked Dre’Goran in an icy tone.

  “Gladly,” said Diego. “Sayre, Kennin, and Egorov are keeping a crucial fact from you all.” He pointed to Niklas. “Niklas and Princess Aeola are courting. They have kept it quiet due to recent events, but I overheard a Maisain trainee mention it a few days ago. Do you really want Egorov’s daughter marrying my son when her heart is set on this Seer? Niklas possesses the same talent as his mother. All he would need to do is wait and—with or without Aeola’s help—murder Landon, allowing him to marry her. Even widowed, Aeola will still have access to the Seal, Your Majesties. If you enforce this marriage then you are opening a door for a Seer to obtain the Wizard’s Seal. And as my son pointed out earlier, the purpose of the council is to prevent any of us from accessing that power.”

  No one spoke for one long minute. Niklas looked relieved and frustrated: relieved that Landon wouldn’t marry this princess but frustrated because it meant the Seal was further from his grasp. He saw Landon watching him and hid behind his goblet, his jaws clenched as he pretended to drink. Kennin and Sayre struggled to maintain a civil face, but Landon knew their plan had been foiled. On the other hand, Berado, Guiterrez, their advisors, and even the Tsuregans were surprised by the sudden revelation. The Dagnorians scowled, no doubt frustrated their suggestion had been turned down.

  “You make an excellent point, eliin,” said Sierra. She clapped her hands and put on a sarcastic smile. “It looks like we are right back where we started. Except we can add murder to our list of problems.”

  “Yes, a marriage is not—” Katsunaka began, but a polite knock on the sliding doors stopped him. “Hairirase,” he ordered.

  The doors opened, and Landon jolted in shock. He wasn’t the only one to react this way. Egorov’s eyes widened and Maccioli’s jaw dropped.

  The red-haired woman who always wandered the garden stepped into the room. She wasn’t wearing a dress, but the same white suit as Dre’Goran and Tan’Loraen, except the dragon insignia was black instead of gold. Her green eyes swept around the room, paused for a moment on Landon, and then focused on Dre’Goran. She bowed to the emperor and his advisor.

  Her entrance had an instant effect on the Dagnorians. Their eyes became hard, much like when a noble was displeased with a servant, and Tan’Loraen drew himself straighter in his chair.

  “We are in the middle of an important discussion, Liliana,” he said icily. “I expressly ordered you not to disturb us.”

  The young woman ducked her head, her green eyes downcast. “Forgive me, Vizier,” she said meekly, “but you ordered any updates be brought to you immediately.” Although she appeared submissive, her face glowed and she looked on the verge of capering around the room in sheer joy.

  Dre’Goran and Tan’Loraen exchanged a wary look. “Speak your message,” Tan’Loraen ordered.

  Liliana raised her head, her face beaming with fierce pride. “Sri’Lanca has returned, Your Grace. The Nircanian judges have surrendered and their military force is laying down their weapons as we speak. Nircana is ours.”

  Chapter 4

  Liliana’s words rang in the room, reverberating through the crystal chandelier and the bones of all those seated at the table. It was followed by a heartbeat of silence, and then noise swelled in the room. It started off as the hush of the breeze through grass and then grew into a torrential roar of panicked voices too chaotic for Landon to follow.

  Nircana is ours.

  Those words had shot through his body, sweeping aside all feeling and emotion to leave him numb and senseless. He stared mutely at the girl. He had heard wrong. Why would Dagnor even want to attack his homeland? As far as Landon knew, the judges or Nircanians had not done anything remotely threatening or violent since he left. Have they?

  “How dare you talk peace when your dragon armies are west of the river, Ebram!” Berado cried.

  The Lythran king’s words, just short of outright yelling, sliced through Landon’s stupor. As though looking through a thick fog, Landon stared around him.

  It was chaos at the table. The Maisans and Lythrans were almost shouting, demanding an explanation, their faces pale. The Menrians kept themselves composed; the only sign of their apprehension was t
he slight tremor of their hands as they sipped their wine. Guiterrez sat silently, his face conveying his alarm. Even Ramirez’s bored face had cracked to show his shock. His hand, however, was steady as he fingered his goblet. Darrin and Katsunaka wore pinched faces, their lips pressed into thin lines as though their worst fears had happened.

  Through the commotion, a small terrified voice whispered at his side. He looked around to his parents. The fear in the voices and on the faces of the rulers was nothing compared to theirs. They looked sick, almost gray with dread. Diego’s breath rasped in his chest, rattling like a dying man. His hazel eyes were wide, staring at Liliana as though she were a devil. Sierra trembled where she sat, tears beading her eyes.

  “Not again,” she whispered. “Please, Almighty, not again . . . my friends . . .”

  Landon’s breath caught in his throat. Nircana. Dragons. Dragons had razed Hondel to the ground, drowning her people in fire and smoke. Landon thought of his adopted siblings—of Will, Heather, Cassie, Daisy, and their families. His nieces and nephews, cousins, aunts, and uncles. Myra’s and Morgan’s family. Images of everyone he knew flashed across his mind, from his childhood school teachers to the doctors, bakers, and cobblers his family frequented in Town—Nircana’s largest settlement. All of them were now prisoners of the two men sporting the golden dragon on their suits. They beamed at Liliana.

  White noise filled Landon’s ears, and he stood. His legs straightened, his hands pressing into the table, and the back of his knees shoved the chair away. He focused on the two Dagnorians, heedless of the others around him. Without thought or emotion he said, “When?”

  He didn’t speak loudly, didn’t yell or scream, yet that single word sliced through the clamor like an otter through a school of fish. The room fell silent, every face watching him with trepidation.

  A languid smile spread across Dre’Goran’s mouth. He waved with his hand dismissively at the Dagnorian woman. “Thank you, Cadet Me’Yasu. You have served me well.”

  Tan’Loraen gave her a nod. It was a tiny movement of his head, but pride seeped from it. Liliana’s eyes widened with pleasure. She bowed swiftly, her face carefully fixed with respect that did little to hide her joy. She let herself out of the room, nearly skipping over the threshold.

  Dre’Goran didn’t watch her go but kept his eyes fixed on Landon. “As to your question, boy,” he went on, “The Dragon Guard entered your adopted country around the same time you crossed Tsuregi’s border.”

  Landon’s mind raced, calculating days and adding the numbers together. “But that . . . that was almost a month ago,” he said breathlessly. “You couldn’t—”

  “We couldn’t subdue millions of people scattered across the land within a month?” Tan’Loraen asked. He gave Landon a smile that chilled his soul, a smile that knew the questions burning in his heart, waiting for their turn to be asked. “The Dragon Guard entered Nircana from the southern sea. They flew over those mountains and fell upon any village or town they saw from the air. We worked our way north, driving the people towards that large city of yours. I believe it was . . .” Tan’Loraen’s eyes roved to the ceiling, calculating the days as Landon had done, “three days ago that they besieged it. I admit, we did not expect the Nircanians to hold out so long, especially against five provinces.” He bared his teeth. “That is almost two thousand dragons, Landon. More than enough to quell a rabble of farmers and housewives.”

  Tan’Loraen spoke softly, yet his words were like knives sinking deep into Landon’s gut. His stomach twisted into a knot, tighter and tighter until he thought it would tear him apart. Landon swayed, trembling as a man wracked with fever. Sierra was no longer whispering a prayer. She and Diego sat as still as stone, so far past the point of horror that they were nothing more than spectators.

  “But that is over now,” Dre’Goran interrupted, “and we can move on without fear of further interruptions.” He gestured to Kastunaka, coupling the movement with a respectful nod. “Good king, we were—”

  “Why?” Landon said. The word grated in his throat, and his eyes burned. “Why my people in the first place? We have done nothing to you!”

  He shouted those last words. He clenched his fists, his nails biting into the soft skin of his palm. His muscles quivered, ready to spring over the table and sink his knuckles into the ingratiating smirk on Dre’Goran’s face.

  “Landon, sit down!” Darrin cried. He was on his feet, his rich clothing billowing from the sudden movement. “You will take your seat, or I will have you escorted.”

  Landon turned his gaze on Darrin. “How long did you know?” he accused. “When were you going to tell us?”

  “We knew Dagnor was planning on invading Nircana for some time, and the king and I wanted you out when that happened. We found out today that your home was invaded, Landon,” Darrin said levelly. “Master Sairen brought me that message as I was speaking with you. I did not tell you,” he continued as the question rose in Landon’s throat, “because I wanted to confirm it myself. By the time I did, we needed to start. Due to more pressing matters, I felt it was best to deal with the matter after. I am sorry, Landon.” Darrin’s dark eyes flicked to Diego and Sierra, who were staring at him in blatant shock. “Diego. Sierra. I am truly sorry.”

  His voice sounded apologetic, but his eyes were far from it. They bored into Landon, asking him once again if he would cooperate for Nircana’s life.

  He wanted to spit at Darrin, but his throat was too dry for that. “Don’t apologize unless you mean it, samurai,” Landon snarled. “I came here willingly because I thought they,” he threw his arm out, pointing at the Drakshus seated across from him, “would take me by force. That’s what you told me and the judges!”

  “Is that true, Hiro?” Issachar asked, turning a stony gaze on Katsunaka. “Did you use my Borikans as leverage to get the boy here?”

  “Yes, I did,” said Katsunaka without the slightest hint of remorse. “And it worked.”

  Issachar pursed his lips, mulling over Katsunaka’s words, then threw back his head and laughed. “Damn but that was clever thinking. Who knows what those peasants would have done knowing that the dragons might come upon them.”

  “Exactly,” Tan’Loraen interjected. “Since we came to this country, we have heard nothing but complaints and whispered rumors of the savage country known as Nircana. When we,” he gestured to himself and Dre’Goran, “announced our intentions to discuss peace in Tsuregi, Katsunaka assured us that the Dayns and the Wizard’s Seal would be in these walls within the month. We heard of a regiment sent to Nircana, with Master Foran himself leading the way, but what did he bring back? Your parents, your troublesome guardians, and a wayward Caborcan. He failed to bring you and the Seal.”

  “I wouldn’t have survived the journey,” Landon argued. “I wasn’t strong enough to travel and my friends knew it. I got sick coming here and that was after two more months of bedrest!”

  “Landon, mind your tone,” Darrin ordered, but Landon ignored him.

  “So I didn’t come when you called, big deal,” Landon retorted. “You’re not my master, and you’re not king of the world. You just oversee a bunch of winged lizards!”

  “You know nothing of us, boy,” Tan’Loraen said smugly, “and spare yourself the embarrassment of trying to understand.”

  “Why Nircana?” Landon persisted. “Why not Tsuregi since Darrin failed?”

  The Dagnorians didn’t immediately respond, and both frowned thoughtfully. The tension in the room wound almost to a breaking point. For the first time, Sayre watched Landon as a horse watches a prowling wolf, waiting for it to make the first move. Landon barely registered her expression. He faced Tan’Loraen, waiting for his answer, but it was Dre’Goran who spoke.

  “I was weary of your people, Landon.” Dre’Goran replied brusquely. He drew himself up, sitting straight-backed and regal. “I felt it was necessary since no one, not even our neutral hosts,” he gestured to Katsunaka and Darrin, “were willing to act against
Nircana. They all complain at the lawlessness of that country and yet do nothing about it.” He shook his head. “I decided it was time that the disorganized country was put into order.

  “I announced my intentions to subdue Nircana, but I did not say when or how. Katsunaka, in his wisdom, acted immediately. He sent a delegation of Samurai Masters, trainees, and ambassadors to wrest you out of Nircana no matter what. I waited until you and the samurai were almost to the border and then ordered the Guard to invade. As much as it would have been easier for them to bring you to me, I was not going to take chances with a Dayn possessing the Wizard’s Seal. Unlike others here,” his blue eyes roved to the Drakshus, “I am not eager to see what exactly the wizards’ amulet can do.” He turned his eyes back on Landon. “Are you satisfied with my answer now?”

  Landon pressed his lips together, unsure of what to say. Ramirez snorted into his goblet, and Landon whirled on him.

  “I think the situation is clear, Landon,” Ramirez said, a hint of amusement tinging his boredom. “If you value your precious Nircana’s safety, I suggest you take your seat. We have much to discuss, and I would like to go to bed at a decent hour.”

  Landon was about to tell the Caborcan advisor where he could sleep when Diego spoke.

  “How many people have you killed?” he asked, and his tone wavered.

  Landon’s breath caught in his chest. That same question had sat on his tongue, but he had been too afraid to ask. He was afraid of the answer. The Drakshus smirked, but Dre’Goran gazed at Diego with a business-like expression.

  “Only what was necessary,” Dre’Goran replied. “I assure you, we did not kill needlessly, not like most other countries. We do not delight in bloodshed.” Although he made no glance towards the Menrians, his meaning was clear.

  The room spun, and Landon felt light-headed. His body began to crumple back into his seat, but he stopped himself. He wanted to stay standing for this.