Invasion and Dragons Page 8

  Morgan’s entire upper torso was buried in the bush. He was trying to twist himself free, but this caused the thorns to snag his clothes. The more he squirmed, the more his clothes became snarled. Landon tried to free the shirt from the thorns, but Morgan’s flailing made it difficult. He caused the stalks to whip around, forcing Landon to recoil before the thorns found his skin.

  “Stop kicking!” Landon snapped. “I can’t help you when you knock the branches out of my hands!”

  “I’m getting my face ripped off by flowers, Lan!” Morgan snapped. “Ach! Get me out!”

  “Here! Wiggle out this way,” Landon said, pushing a portion of the thorny stalks aside. “Slow, Morgan! You’re making it worse.”

  Morgan stopped struggling, and, with a few pointers from Landon, managed to extricate himself from the spines. He scooted backwards until he hit the wall beside Landon’s window. He crossed his legs and massaged his ankle.

  Morgan glared at Landon. “Took you long enough.”

  “What? It wasn’t like I was gonna dive headlong after you,” Landon retorted. “Your ankle okay?”

  “It’s fine. My face stings like mad though.”

  “You did attack a rosebush,” Landon commented, peering at Morgan. He pulled a sympathetic face. “And you lost that battle for sure.”

  Morgan’s tanned face was covered with criss-crossing scratches, some of which were bleeding. His dark brown hair stuck out in all directions. Morgan touched a finger to a cut, looked at the blood, and lifted his brown eyes despairingly to the sky. “My good looks are ruined.”

  Landon eyed his friend. “If I squint it looks like your blushing. Just tell the girls you got attacked by a pack of kittens and you’re good.”

  Morgan frowned at him. “Fighting off a pack of kittens is no better than a rosebush, Lan. Women like kittens. And roses. I can’t win.”

  Landon chuckled. He bent down and hoisted Morgan to his feet. Morgan thanked him and started picking leaves and twigs out of his clothes and hair. Landon leaned against the windowsill, watching Morgan. “Is Myra coming?”

  Morgan chewed on his lip. “I don’t know. Her room is across the hall from mine. I tried to talk to her, but my guards wouldn’t let me open the door so much as a crack. When I couldn’t talk to her, I decided to try meeting up with you. It took me an hour to rip the sheets up without them noticing.” He motioned to the dangling line that hung between them.

  Landon nodded. “Nircana. How did you find out?”

  “When two samurai came and dragged Myra and I to our rooms.” Morgan joined Landon and leaned against the window frame. “I don’t know what to think, Lan. Why would Dagnor invade our home? Are they . . .” his voice wavered, “are they going to destroy her like Hondel?”

  “I don’t know,” Landon said, and he explained what Tan’Loraen and Dre’Goran had said. He also gave Morgan a summary of the council and confided his fright at seeing Sayre for the first time. Morgan’s face became disturbed.

  “This dragon king invaded our home because the other nations were scared of us? And they wanted to marry you to a princess?” Morgan pulled a disgusted face. “That’s just wrong.”

  “I know,” Landon said, glancing at the windows looking down on the garden. “The worst of it is they probably talked about it a hundred times after we left. And now that it’s finished, we don’t get to know what it says until the kings sign it and it’s read.” He shivered at the thought of being ushered into the throne room and hearing his future read out in front of every noble in Tsuregi.

  Morgan snarled. “I hate this. I mean, I can understand them locking us up because of Dagnor and all. They trust us just as much as we trust them, but deciding your future? They don’t have the right to do that!”

  “Try telling them that,” Landon said wearily. He rubbed the corners of his eyes with his fingers. Angels, he was tired. He gazed at Morgan, noting for the first time that his friend looked just as drained. “You didn’t sleep either?”

  Morgan shook his head. “I kept trying to think of what I could do to fix this situation, but I couldn’t think of anything. I mean, how would you drive out a whole swarm of dragons?”

  Morgan looked at him expectantly, but Landon had no response. His first thought was the Wizard’s Seal, but he pushed it aside. It would be proving the kings’ fears correct. If there was one thing the Jeshuan priests drilled into the congregations, it was that the right path was not always the easiest. But what about now, when the only visible solution was to bow down and become a slave to a treaty?

  The treaty. It was going to bind him just as much as the Seal. He was sick of Darrin, the nobles, and now the kings forcing him to do their bidding. He was Nircanian and a guardian of the Wizard’s Seal. He chose his life, not some measly scrap of parchment with scribbles on it.

  “The treaty,” he said, an idea occurring to him.

  Morgan, who had been lost in his own thoughts, gave him a strange look. “What about it?”

  “The treaty,” Landon repeated. “If we—”

  He stopped as the garden door opened. It swung wide in a slow arch, and a person stood in the doorway. Although Landon couldn’t see their face, the person’s white Dagnorian uniform stood out against the dark opening.

  Landon and Morgan acted as one. Landon grabbed the makeshift rope, wadded up as much as he could, and threw it to the roof. It landed just inside the gutter with a small loop dangling over the edge. He then planted himself in front of the window as Morgan clambered into his room. Morgan landed hard on the floor, and Landon let out a fake, lung-splitting cough. He hoped it was loud enough to fool the guards.

  After pretending the coughing fit had past, Landon sat himself on the windowsill and turned his body so he was stretched across it. He tried to appear relaxed, but his heart thumped harder as the newcomer stepped into view. He silently swore as she closed the door behind her and walked towards him.

  “Just my luck,” Landon muttered.

  “What? Who is it?” asked Morgan, loud enough for Landon to hear.

  “It’s that Dagnorian woman,” Landon replied, glaring at her as she crossed the red bridge. To his resentment, she was making a direct line towards him. “She came into the council yesterday with the news that Nircana had surrendered.”

  “The one we keep seeing? The pretty one?”

  It took all of Landon’s self control not to look over and glare at Morgan. “Is there another Dagnorian woman wandering around? Of course it’s her!”

  “Enjoying the fresh air, Dayn?” called the woman. She stepped off the bridge and sauntered across the lawn. A small mocking smile played across her lips. “I thought you were confined to your room,” she continued. “The emperor specifically requested it of the samurai.”

  “And I thought you were mute, so I guess things aren’t what they appear to be,” Landon retorted. “Besides, this window is part of my room, so I still haven’t left.”

  He glared at her as she drew closer, trying to remember her name. Lily or something like that. “What do you want, Lily?” he asked.

  “It’s Liliana,” she replied unconcerned, stopping a few paces from him. Liliana rolled her shoulders, causing the black dragon badge to stretch tight. Landon knew she was showing it off on purpose. “I just wanted to talk. Forgive me if I don’t fall off a roof and into a rosebush like your friend.”

  “You saw that?” wailed Morgan from Landon’s room. Landon hissed at him to be quiet, but the damage was done. Liliana beamed like she had found a treasure chest full of gold.

  “Please don’t say anything,” Landon said. Even as he asked, he knew it wouldn’t happen. She was grinning fit to burst, and excitement glowed in her mint green eyes.

  “Silence comes at a cost, Dayn,” she said. “What are you willing to give me?”

  “Come now,” said Morgan, standing up and leaning against the window frame. “I’m not doing any harm and you know it. Why don’t you go back to your room and forget you saw me make a klutz of myse
lf?”

  “But that defeats the purpose of me speaking to Dayn in the first place,” Liliana answered in a pouty voice. “I’m sure he’s burning with questions.”

  Both Landon and Morgan stiffened. “We don’t want to talk to you,” Landon said flatly. “So you can leave us alone.”

  “You don’t want to ask me about Dagnor? It may benefit you.”

  “Not if it’s coming from a dragon rider,” Landon retorted, with a glance at the dragon badge.

  Liliana rolled her eyes. “It’s a Guard, Dayn, not a rider. We don’t ride our dragons like horses. They are sentient beings like you and me. We work together as partners.”

  “Does your dragon sleep in a house then?” Morgan asked slowly. “Where is it?” He looked around the garden. Landon found himself also checking the roofs and trees, expecting to see a large scaly head appear.

  “He,” Liliana corrected with a curt tone, “is outside the Tsuregan Mountains with my uncle’s and emperor’s dragons. They take turns bringing the latest reports from Nircana but remain outside of the walls to prevent a mass panic. The Tsuregans are nervous enough with my emperor here.”

  “I wonder why,” Morgan muttered. Landon nodded in agreement.

  “Your uncle. Is he Dre’Goran’s advisor?” Landon asked slowly. He saw some semblance between Liliana and Tan’Loraen, enough to make him think they were family.

  Liliana smirked. “The vizier? Yes, he is. How did you know?”

  “Just a guess.” Landon turned to Morgan and jerked his head at his room. “Shall we continue our talk in private?”

  Morgan eyed Liliana and nodded. “Yeah. The only scenario I’d like to talk with this young lady is over a candlelight dinner, but I doubt that’ll happen.”

  Landon burst into a fit of laughter. Liliana’s smile melted away and her face flushed. “Excuse me?” she said dangerously.

  “You heard me,” said Morgan. “A nice candlelight dinner to offset the horrible news you are so desperately wanting to throw in our faces. It’s the only way I’ll still fancy you afterwards.”

  “You fancy me?” Liliana repeated, her voice rising a couple octaves. She looked downright confused and unsure of herself. Landon was surprised at how quickly her self-confidence had vanished.

  “Oh. That must be a Nircanian term.” Morgan twisted his face in concentration. “It means to find someone attractive enough to ask them to dinner. You know, courting and all that.”

  “You want to court me?” Liliana said the word like it was the foulest thing she had ever heard.

  “A pretty lass like you, of course! At first, I thought it would be nice to get to know a Dagnorian. You people like to keep to yourselves, threatening to kill anyone who crosses the river and all that. I was hoping with all the talks of peace I could get to know you.” Morgan shook his head. “But I guess not. Did you help with the invasion or were you just acting as your king’s messenger?”

  Liliana stared at him in disgust. Landon was trying not to laugh and succeeded in channeling it into a wolfish grin. “Is that what the black color means?” Landon asked when Liliana stayed quiet. “You’re the king’s personal messenger? That must be a big honor.”

  He meant to be sarcastic. Morgan smiled just as broadly as him and threw Landon an approving wink.

  Liliana’s face darkened, the red changing to a maroon color that clashed with her bright red hair. “Yes. I am, in fact, and it is a great honor.” She threw her shoulders back and proudly lifted her chin. “I’m the first woman ever to hold a position in the Dragon Guard.”

  “You know, Morgan, maybe we should have dinner with her,” Landon suggested. “It would be historical. The first woman Guard dining with two Nircanians.”

  “Be a Hondelite for the dinner, Lan, and that would make it historical. We’d also need Myra.” Morgan flashed the Dagnorian a roguish smile. “Can’t have Miss Liliana as the third wheel now, can we?”

  Landon barked out a laugh and slapped his hand over his mouth again. With a small measure of guilt that he shoved aside, he noticed tears pricking Liliana’s eyes. She clenched her fists into white knuckles.

  She glared at them, her eyes hard as stone. “You mock me,” she snarled. “Do not mock me. I can make your people suffer!”

  Landon rolled his eyes and started to speak, but Morgan beat him to it. “Landon is because he has a girl already, but I’m not.”

  Those words rang in the air. Landon and Liliana looked at him as one. “What?” they both said.

  Landon waited for Morgan to wink again, or show some sign that he was kidding. Nothing. Morgan returned their gazes with a calm and genuine smile. Landon stared, now as confused as Liliana.

  “Morgan?” he prompted, searching his friend’s face.

  “It just occurred to me,” Morgan began, drawing himself straight like a teacher before a class, “that it must have been hard for you to get your dragon. You said they were sentient beings? That’s like befriending someone, right? You didn’t catch him and tame him like a wild horse or dog?”

  Liliana hesitated and nodded. “It is called dragon taming, but yes, you earn the dragon’s friendship.” She bit her lip, unhappy that she’d said that much.

  Landon looked from her to Morgan. “What are you gettin’ at, mate?” he pressed.

  Morgan scowled at Landon. “Think about it. She has a dragon; she’s the king’s messenger and niece to his advisor. That gives her almost as much power as a Samurai Master. But when I asked a noble about you,” he looked Liliana full in the face, “all he had to say was how much he’d like to get into your bed. They . . . they all think you’re a whore waiting for the right price.”

  Liliana stiffened at that word. “I am not!” she declared emphatically.

  Morgan held up his hands. “I’m not accusing you of anything,” he clarified. “They say the same thing about our other friend, Myra. It’s why I’ve been wanting to get to know you. I want something to throw against those scummy nobles besides a fist in the face—which they deserve.” He cocked his head. “Does your uncle know what the nobles are saying?”

  Liliana sniffed. “If he does then I assure you he will do nothing about it. He has larger issues to worry about than me. Besides, I can take care of myself.”

  Landon stared at her. Her tone of voice, the carelessness in her answer bothered him. She was trying to sound strong, like a child hoping to intimidate a bully. Her face had returned to its normal color except for two red spots on her cheeks.

  “You said you were the first woman to be in the Dragon Guard?” he asked. “Does that mean you’re the first woman to tame a dragon? Ever?”

  Liliana eyed him for a long time before giving a curt nod.

  “Then I must insist, Lady of the Dragon Empire,” said Morgan, climbing over the windowsill, “that you join me for dinner. I must know what it is like to make history.” He bowed low, sweeping one arm in a wide circle so his hand was outstretched towards Liliana.

  Liliana jerked back as if she had been burned. Her lips curled into a snarl. “I will do no such thing! You just want to lure me into your bed like the others!”

  “I would never!” cried Morgan, affronted.

  “Don’t compare us to the nobles, Liliana,” Landon snapped, his voice cold and level. “We’re not like them.”

  Liliana let out a piercing laugh. “And why should I believe you? You are nothing but the sons of dragonslayers. You think I will fall for the same lies you fed those dragons? Luring them into complacency so you can slit their throats and take their blood and hides for money?”

  “That was centuries ago,” Landon said defensively. “Maybe our ancestors killed the dragons for money, but that hasn’t happened since. My father was framed because greedy people wanted the Wizard’s Seal!”

  “You would say that to protect your family,” Liliana said, sneering. “Just like your ancestors.”

  “What does that mean?” Landon demanded.

  “How do you think dragon-slaying began?”
she snapped, her eyes flashing. “Your ancestors did it to save their kin, those who had been enslaved by the wizards.”

  “This happened at the same time when the wizards ruled?” Morgan asked softly. His face as white as Landon’s. Landon shivered. The wizards. Just like the Seal, it always came back to those twenty men and women who ruled the world until their power began to die.

  “It did,” Liliana retorted savagely. “The wizards were happy to exchange dragon claws, teeth, and blood for their captives. They in turn would then sell it for gold, or more slaves. Your people allowed themselves to be manipulated into a never-ending cycle of death and greed. They sometimes slaughtered whole nests of dragonets for one person!” She bared her teeth. “That is why we hate your kind so much. There is no forgiveness for slaying infants!”

  Landon wanted to respond, but he couldn’t. Is that what the Dagnorians believed? He, and everyone old enough to understand, knew the Dagnorians regarded them as murderers. He knew they blamed them for those dragon deaths centuries before. But his ancestors purposefully killed the dragons? Killed or traded them for their enslaved kin?

  If Liliana’s words were true, then the wizards had encouraged it. They probably used the dragon parts in their experiments. They had been willing to kill their own slaves to preserve their power—why would a dragon’s life be any different? The wizards probably exchanged sons and daughters, mothers and fathers for crates of dragon body parts in hopes to preserve their legacy.

  Landon was about to ask her more details, but Morgan spoke first. “Thank the angels that the wizards are dead, but how does that apply to you? Why would anyone want to chop you up? I certainly wouldn’t.”

  Liliana crossed her arms in front of her chest, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Oh? You won’t murder me, but you’ll seduce me instead?” she said acidly. “Tempt me, use me, and then leave me at the mercy of my emperor once you are satisfied.” She shook her head. “You really think you are better than the other young men in the palace?”

  Landon and Morgan glanced sideways at each other. He caught it too. “What do you mean, ‘leave me at the mercy of my emperor?’” asked Morgan. “Do I, uh, have to ask him permission first so you don’t get in trouble? I promise I won’t hurt you.”