Invasion and Dragons Read online

  “And the rest?” Diego pressed. “What have you done to them?”

  “Prison camps.” Tan’Loraen spoke as if this was common knowledge. “For every ten settlements we conquered, we established one prison camp.” His eyes drifted to the ceiling in thought. “The largest settlement will make it twelve camps, I believe.”

  Landon imagined feeble lean-tos with groups of men, women, and children chained together like horses waiting to be auctioned. He pictured giant lizard-like animals with wings, dripping fire from their jaws and swiping at anyone they please. “What are you going to do to them?” he breathed.

  Tan’Loraen smiled knowingly. “Nothing, Landon. Nothing until we,” he gestured to the seated kings and advisors, “decide how to deal with the Seal and your family. Until then, we will use the skills of your people to supply our armies with food, clothing, and weapons. As long as our prisoners mind their manners and do the work we ask, no one will be harmed. Those who resist, however, are put down as an example.”

  “That means public executions, boy,” Issachar said, leering at him.

  Landon felt weak with fear at those words. He knew his older brother, Will, and his other brothers-in-law would cause trouble. Angels, even his sisters would attack a dragon if it meant protecting their children. Were they dead? Immediately, Landon shoved that thought aside. He couldn’t bear to think about that, and at this point there was no way of knowing.

  “As I said before,” Dre’Goran interrupted, with a long-suffering glance at Issachar, “we only do what is necessary to keep our prisoners in line. I and my Guard will not tolerate rebels. The Nircanians know that as long as they cooperate they will not be harmed.”

  Cooperate. There was that request again. Cooperate and you will get your way. Cooperate and no one will get hurt. Cooperate and you will be happy.

  He looked around at the other rulers, expecting someone to protest this injustice. Everyone at the table was frozen in their seats, absorbing this revelation. Their eyes met Landon’s and then looked away—not in shame, but in relief. Nircana was out of the picture. The kingless country had a ruler. The world was right again. Time to move on and figure out what to do with the main problem: the Wizard’s Seal.

  Landon wanted to vomit.

  “Due to this recent development,” Berado said, fingering his chin, “I propose this council continues with the necessary people, namely the kings and advisors.”

  A ripple swept through the room and many eyebrows rose. “You want everyone, save the kings and advisors, to leave the room?” Kennin challenged. “I am the Chancellor of War, and my son is my deputy. If anyone should remain it is us.”

  Landon’s eyes widened, and he looked at Niklas. The young man was trying to look dignified without appearing smug, and only half-succeeded. He silently cursed. Of course Niklas would be in a powerful position. He was a Seer.

  Berado rolled his eyes. “The Dayns, then. They have contributed but little to our discussions.”

  “More of a hinderance really,” Maccioli mumbled into his goblet.

  Diego’s chair scraped across the floor as he stood. He drew himself to his full height. His shock and terror had been replaced with a cold authority that rivaled the Dagnorians’ calm. He glared at the Lythrans.

  “We represent Nircana,” he declared, “and we are staying. I declare this an act of war, and it will be treated as such. First—”

  “I agree with Andre,” Guiterrez said, eyeing Sierra, whose expression was becoming rebellious. “They are too emotionally involved to make any sort of compromise.”

  His words were met with nods, including Katsunaka. Diego’s eyes bulged, his neck flushing. “You insisted we be a part of this council,” he said, appalled. He balled his hands into fists. “All of you insisted we attend!”

  “That was before we knew about Nircana’s predicament, Diego,” Katsunaka replied coldly. “Would it ease your mind if we voted?”

  Before Diego could reply or Katsunaka formally ask, every king and advisor’s hand went up. Kennin and Niklas made no move, but Landon knew it was because they didn’t have the authority to make this decision.

  Katsunaka’s bronze eyes gazed around the room, noting each hand raised. “We are unanimous.” He stood and faced Diego. “Diego Dayn. You and your family are excused from the council. You are welcome to leave on your own accord, or I will have you escorted.” He brought his fist down once on the table.

  The door opened, and four Samurai Masters entered. Landon didn’t recognize any of them. Maybe that was for the better. These Masters wore a mask of professional indifference, their hands at their sides rather than resting on their hilts. Takeshi or Sairen would’ve grabbed Landon and his parents rather than wait for them to move.

  All the same, the choice was clear.

  Sierra stood, joining her husband and son, and surveyed the room. Her eyes rested for a moment on Sayre. Sayre returned the gaze levelly, a smile playing on her lips. Sierra looked at Katsunaka and Darrin, and she shook her head in disgust.

  “Cowards,” she said, and she swept from the room.

  Landon and Diego trailed after her, the four samurai close on their heels. They didn’t speak to each other, nor did they try to lose the samurai. They made their way straight back to the suites, ignoring anyone who paused to stare at them.

  Landon walked in a daze. His mind buzzed with images of his brother’s and sisters’ families being rounded up like sheep, his nieces and nephews separated from their parents, and crammed into stone rooms or laboring in fields with an officer cracking a whip over their backs. Waves of guilt washed over Landon as he looked around the luxurious corridor. He wanted to flee to their aid instead of being cooped up in a large gilded cage.

  He and his parents rounded the corner and his stomach twisted uncomfortably. Two samurai stood on either side of the door to his family’s rooms, armed with a spear and katana. He recognized them instantly when they turned to look at him. Sairen’s eyebrows furrowed but Taichi, Landon’s former swordmaster, smiled as the Dayns approached.

  Taichi looked like he was about to say something but thought better of it. Instead he bowed and opened the door for the Dayns. Eli’s voice flooded into the hallway, the language so hostile and furious that Taichi winced.

  Landon’s parents went into the room, but Landon paused on the threshold. He looked at Taichi and asked, “Where’s Morgan and Myra?”

  “In their rooms,” Taichi answered. He licked his lips and added, “I am sorry, Landon. Your people do not deserve this.” He sounded genuine.

  Landon looked at him for a long moment. “I wish you could convince the kings of that,” he replied as he shut the door behind him.

  Diego and Sierra stood just inside the room, their confidence slipping away as the gravity of the situation settled on them. Alyssa was sitting on the sofa, staring at the fireplace with bloodshot eyes and clutching a handkerchief to her lips. Eli paced around the room, swearing and making violent gestures to the door and windows. He stopped when he saw the Dayns and Landon and raced to their side.

  “Diego! Sierra! Are you all right? What happened? What are those bastards going to do to you?”

  “Eli, let them sit,” Alyssa said, her voice soft and trembling. “Can’t you see they’re exhausted?” She sniffed and blew her nose in the handkerchief.

  Before Landon could reply, Eli took him and Sierra by the elbow and steered them to the sofa. He gently pushed them onto the soft cushions next to Alyssa. He turned to Diego and urged him into one of the armchairs.

  The sofa was soft against Landon’s body, and the back was high enough that he could comfortably rest his head against it. He felt his exhausted mind and body relax. He wanted to sink into it, let it wash away his anxiety, but Eli’s frantic movements and Alyssa’s sniffles kept him focused.

  “What happened?” Eli persisted, looking from Diego to Sierra to Landon and back again. “Did the damn dragon king say how much of our country was destroyed? How many were—” his
voice caught, “were hurt?”

  The Dayns looked at each other, waiting for someone to volunteer the answer. After a couple seconds, Diego sighed and explained Dre’Goran and Tan’Loraen’s reason for invading Nircana. Sierra interjected a comment every so often, but Landon sat in silence. Alyssa’s sniffles increased, and Eli’s face grew redder and redder with each sentence.

  “And then we were excused,” Diego finished. “The kings and advisors voted unanimously, and we were forced to leave.”

  “What?” Eli shrieked. “Why?”

  “Because we were too emotionally involved,” Landon said bitterly. He surged to his feet and began to pace, desperate for movement. Eli backed out of his path, giving his adopted son a clear path around the sofas.

  Before he knew it, he was telling his adopted parents about the council. He told them about the kings’ devious plots to keep the Dayns under control, the Menrians’ desires to avenge Angen, and the arguments as to what should be done with the Seal. The words poured from him, fueled by his helpless frustration. Tears pricked his eyes, and he wiped them with his sleeves.

  “They wanted to marry me to a princess,” Landon added, stopping to lean against the ornate fireplace. “Luckily, Dad,” he nodded at Diego, “stopped that, but they kept ignoring everything we said. All they did was argue and argue and argue because they could.” He put his head in his hands. “It’ll be winter by the time they agree on anything.”

  “Myra still doesn’t know?” Sierra asked softly.

  Landon shook his head, avoiding his parents’ eyes. “Two weeks and I still can’t muck up the balls to tell her.”

  He didn’t mean to be so crass, but that was how he felt. His words were met with silence. Landon kept his eyes on the floor, injustice at the situation swirling inside him. He wanted to hide and punch something at the same time, preferably Darrin’s face.

  After several minutes, Eli broke the silence. “Those bastards—”

  “Eli!” Alyssa cried.

  “—didn’t want us together so they took them to their rooms on the second floor. Thought we would try to attack the Dragon King, they did. Pah!” Eli spat onto the plush carpet and resumed his angry circle around the room. “Attack him? I’ll skin him with my bare hands and leave him for the buzzards! Thinks he can waltz in and take over us, a free people, does he? He and his coward, fire-spitting dragons think we’ll just cow down and lick their boots? I’ll flay them all, the chicken-scratch, yellow-livered, slimy sordid sacks of sh—”

  “Eli, please!” Alyssa cried. “No amount of cursing is going to help anyone. And I don’t like it.” She patted the vacant space next to her. “Come back to the couch, sweetie. Might as well be comfortable while we wait. They’re bound to tell us what they decide.”

  Landon thought about arguing and decided against it. He returned to the couch, allowing Alyssa to embrace him and stroke his hair. They said nothing. He, Diego, Sierra, and Alyssa sat while Eli paced around the room. Eli didn’t mutter or speak, which meant he was thinking hard on the news.

  They sat in a subdued, frightened silence as the sun slipped from view.

  Chapter 5

  Landon couldn’t comprehend Darrin’s words. It wasn’t that Darrin was speaking Sikhan or using vague words to explain; he was being concise and enunciating each word so there was no room for misinterpretation. No, Landon just didn’t want to believe it.

  “I cannot give you the details at this time,” Darrin explained levelly. “The kings will review the treaty this afternoon, and then they will sign it.”

  His dark eyes swept over their tired faces. No one had gone to bed. They had sat on the chairs and sofas until the cushions bore deep indentations from their bodies. Eli’s gray hair was a crumpled cloud on his head. Alyssa’s bloodshot eyes stared at a spot beyond Darrin. Diego and Sierra gazed at the Samurai Master, their expressions indecipherable. Darrin kept glancing at them, waiting for an outburst.

  “And then what?” Landon asked, his voice hoarse. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and his vision blurred. He had to blink forcefully several times to make it clear again.

  “Copies will be made,” Darrin answered soothingly, “and distributed to each king and advisor, and then a copy for each province in Tsuregi. They will be read aloud in the public squares and in the throne room tomorrow afternoon. All of you will attend.”

  Landon stiffened at those words. “Are we being separated?” he asked, voicing the fear that had been weighing on his mind since Darrin had entered.

  “As I said before, I cannot give you any details until the treaty is finalized.”

  “But you said it was finished,” Landon said desperately. “Can’t you at least tell us what’s going to happen to us? To Nircana?”

  Darrin gazed at him pityingly. “I cannot, Landon. The kings are entitled—no, required to read through it one more time among themselves just to be sure. If one ruler disapproves then the process will begin anew. Nothing is certain until the signatures and seals are placed.”

  “Have you heard anymore news about Nircana?” Sierra asked. She gripped her dress with white knuckles, as if expecting the world to fall away.

  Darrin shook his head. “The situation has not changed. All Tan’Loraen has said concerning the matter is that the Dragon Guard has a firm grip on the people. They do not expect trouble from the Nircanians anytime soon.”

  Landon searched Darrin’s face. The Samurai Master kept his features impassive and unreadable, but Landon felt he was hiding something. It didn’t make sense that he would tell them the treaty was finished and then deny an explanation. Landon felt like he was being manipulated again, but this time he knew it was happening.

  “I will update you this evening,” Darrin continued. “If you wish to leave your room you may do so but with an escort. News is spreading quickly about Dagnor’s invasion, and it is not safe for you to be about on your own, even in the palace.” He said this with a particularly pointed look at Landon.

  Landon narrowed his eyes. “Liar. It’s to keep us from causing trouble.”

  Darrin scowled. Without another word, he spun on his heel and left, shutting the door after him. Landon listened as Darrin’s boots softly padded away from them, disappearing into the silence of the palace.

  Landon and his parents sat still as stone, absorbing the information. The door opened a few minutes later to admit two servants pushing a trolley laden with food. Landon expected one of them to be Ryoshin, the Dayns’ personal servant and lifelong friend, but neither one was him. Landon wasn’t surprised. Darrin wanted them isolated. The less contact they had with friends, the less trouble they would cause.

  Landon watched the servants laying platters of toast, eggs, and sausage on the table. It smelled good, but he wasn’t up to eating. He couldn’t stomach the thought of eating a meal when his brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews were locked up. Or dead.

  He stood. “I’m not hungry,” he said as way of an explanation and went to his room. One of the servants gave him a startled look, but Landon ignored him. He shut the door and leaned against it.

  He stared at his bed, yearning for sleep but unwilling to give in. Instead, he pulled off the stifling green coat he had been wearing since yesterday morning and staggered into the bathroom.

  He took a cold bath, more to help him wake up than out of laziness for requesting hot water. Wrapping the towel around his waist, Landon went to the wardrobe and dug through the silk and velvet fabric for the wool and linens of his Nircanian clothes. He pulled them out and dressed. The fabric was a welcome relief, although he wished it smelled like meadows and wildflowers rather than the musty cherry wood of the wardrobe.

  He went to the window, treading on the discarded clothes, and leaned against the frame. The shadows from the garden trees were long, stretching to the west. It was still morning, just an hour or two after sunrise. A gentle breeze stirred the leaves, but otherwise nothing moved. He tried to take in the serenity of the garden, but it seemed
unreal, more like a painting than an actual thing. The pond reflected the walls, trees, and shrubs with mirrored perfection, and Landon had an overwhelming desire to disturb it. It wasn’t fair the world could be calm when his soul was in turmoil.

  His thoughts drifted back to the council, to Nircana, and Sayre. It was easier to dismiss Sayre as a monster when she had a disembodied voice in his nightmares. But she was a living, breathing person. She had family and friends who would do anything for her. It made her human, and that was terrifying.

  “She’s not even ugly,” Landon said to himself. “It wouldn’t be so bad if she was just ugly.”

  He wanted out. That was all there was to it. He wanted to disappear and get as far away from Sayre, Darrin, and the kings as he could. He wanted to go home and hide in Nircana, vanish among the forests and glades. The garden door on the far side looked inviting. Curious, Landon tested the latch of the windows. It was unlocked. He didn’t know if he could escape the palace, but he could at least escape his room. He could sneak to the stables, find Thirien, and hide there until he had a better plan. It was worth a shot.

  Hand on the latch, he began to turn it when a pair of bare feet appeared out of nowhere and slammed against the glass panes. Landon yelled, tripped over the discarded clothes, and fell onto his back. The feet kicked and flailed against the glass, seeking the windowsill six inches below. A strip of fabric that looked like torn-up bed sheets swung back and forth.

  “Help!” cried the foot’s owner.

  “Hold on, Morgan!” Landon scrambled to his feet as Morgan slipped. Morgan’s right foot caught the windowsill, but his left danced wildly for balance. He stood frozen for a moment, arms windmilling, and one foot precariously perched on the sill, and then he toppled backwards and into a nearby rosebush. As he fell, his left foot cracked against the sill.

  “Ow! Ow! Get me out! Get me out!”

  “Holy—Keep it down, Morgan! Someone will hear.” Landon cried. He shoved the windows open and climbed out to help.