King's Crown: Chronicles of the Dragon-Bound: Book 3, page 2
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Dax, along with the heads of the constables, safety wardens, palace guards, and Commander Baffen of the East Landly Lancers, met with the queen that afternoon as they did every week. It was a time to share information about the state of the city and the kingdom. The queen gave them current information about the assembly’s search for a new king, and in turn, they told her news of the civil unrest in the city.
Everyone sat in a circle, but the queen spent most of the meeting on her feet, moving from one person to the next, asking questions and drawing out information. Dax knew she did this deliberately. The queen was tall for a woman, and her slimly elegant appearance made it easy for her to dominate the meetings. No longer a young woman, she had a streak of white running back through her hair. Dax did not see it as a sign of the queen’s age but as a symbol of the woman’s badger-like character.
In Dax’s opinion, the council should have chosen the widowed monarch to rule after her husband lost his life while leading the East Landly Lancers to disaster at Drundevil Pass. However, the assembly was not interested in Dax’s opinion. Queen Layna was half Ugori, and too many in the kingdom would never accept a queen so closely tied to a people most in East Landly regarded as barbaric savages living on their northern border. It did not matter how capable the woman might be in fact.
The meeting plodded through a similar list of minor crises as past meetings. At one point the queen asked Dax to share his observations from the previous night. Not surprised she already knew about his expedition, Dax described the event and mentioned the disruption his presence had caused. He did not dwell on the incident, because it vaguely embarrassed him. He also omitted mention of the shadow who had followed his party from the scene. That felt more like a personal matter.
When the meeting finished, Queen Layna dismissed the rest but motioned for Dax to stay. He nodded and mentally stiffened, prepared for a reprimand. After the door closed, she turned to him. He started to apologize for disobeying her instructions about going out in the city without protection, but before he found the words, the queen spoke. “What you said about the crowd last night reminded me I need to ask you something. Am I going to have trouble with you, Dax?” She arched an eyebrow questioningly.
Caught off guard, Dax fumbled for a reply. “I wasn’t making trouble, Your Majesty. I wanted to see for myself the temper of the disturbance. Taking just a few men should have allowed us to observe quietly.”
She waved off his reply and sat down in the seat next to him. “I expect you to think for yourself about things like that—not that I’m not concerned for your safety.” She sighed and looked toward the window where the afternoon sun reappeared from behind a cloud and sent a sudden shaft of light into the room. She looked back at him. “No, I’m talking about you making a try for the throne.”
Dax blinked. It was as if the queen was privy to his private thoughts. He was not sure what to say. At a loss, he finally managed, “Where would you get an idea like that, Your Majesty?”
“Dax, call me Teena. This is not an inquisition, but I’ve had these thoughts.” She got up and started to pace. “You are a hero in the city, and the word has spread to the rest of the kingdom. The factions fight each other, but you . . .”
She turned back toward him and inspected him carefully. Dax had the feeling she tried to guess his heart. Did he want the throne? A complicated question. His need to redeem his father’s murder was diminished by the fact that West Landly had a good queen. East Landly’s throne was vacant, but over the years, his desire to rule had been tempered by the realities of command. Besides, Dax was in no position to take the throne. Until he heard the conclave’s decision, for all he knew, he might be an outcast.
However, the queen needed an answer to her question. He knelt before her and bowed his head. “Your Majesty, I pledged to you when the Tharans came that I would save the city and the kingdom for you. I now pledge that I will not take this kingdom from you. Once the assembly selects a new ruler and the crisis is over, I plan to return to Iron Moor and see where my life leads.”
“Rise, General Daxdendraig,” she stated formally, then smiled. “I never doubted you, Dax, but I had to raise the issue. As one of the dragon-bound, I know your statement is the absolute truth, but dragon-bound or not, I trust you.” She gestured to a chair. “Now sit, and let’s talk about this.”
Once they were seated, the queen smiled at him. “I always listen very carefully to what the dragon-bound say, because, although they cannot lie, what they don’t say can be more important than what they do say.” She looked at him appraisingly. “What if the assembly were to offer you the throne?”
This was the question Dax had not answered for himself. The people of the city loved him because he and Kahshect had killed the Tharans’ dragon outside the gates. However, without a royal claim to the throne, many on the assembly would oppose him. If he revealed his royal connection as the lost boy king of West Landly, he would have well and sufficient claim to the throne of East Landly, but that claim could destabilize the monarchy in West Landly.
He would not risk doing harm to West Landly. After thinking carefully, he answered, “I am afraid taking the throne might cause more problems than it would solve.”
Clearly this was not the answer the queen expected. She looked at him oddly. “Could you explain?”
“One complication is that depending on the decision of the conclave, I could be forced to go into exile because of actions I took during the conflict with the Tharans. They might decide I violated the Great Treaty.” Dax waited for her to respond, but she waited patiently. She knew there was more, so he went on. “There is a group of dragon-bound who will arrive soon. I think they will have news. I must talk to them.”
She nodded. “I will respect your judgment on this,” she said solemnly. Then she winked at him. “I also know I still did not hear you say no.”
Yes, Dax had not said no, but he was not ready to say yes either. With all the other events of the last few months, he had not had time to think. To plan. No, he reminded himself. He would not plan anything until he had taken time to think about what any action he might take would mean for Landly, both East and West.
Dax changed the subject. “Teena, one thing about my little foray last evening bothered me. We were followed as we left the site of the fire. I thought it might be an assassin, but now I wonder if something else is going on. I’ve had meetings with representatives from several of the merchant houses in the last few days. Most of the conversations dealt with safety for their property, their trade, that sort of thing.” He ran a hand through his hair while he thought about how to go on. “Several times they wanted me to say something about whom I felt merited their support. I avoided answering at the time, but I suspect they have been trying to draw me into the power struggle. That person last night could have been an attempt to contact me.”
“Or an assassin sent to take you out of the power picture.”
“True enough.” He smiled sardonically. “Some political advisor I’ve turned out to be. I should have included myself from the start as an obvious player in this drama.”
“Dax, Dax.” She smiled again. “I don’t see it as an error on your part. Instead, I think it’s a sign of your character.” She stood up, and he rose with her. “Thank you, Dax. I have another meeting, and I know you do too.”
As he left the room, Dax continued to mull the question of what his role in East Landly should be—advisor, protector, or . . . contender for the crown.
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He postponed thinking about his conversation with Queen Layna until that evening. He did not want to think about it even then, but he had to. Queen Layna’s observation about his popularity with the people of the kingdom and his personal role in the current power struggle meant he had to make a decision. He knew all too well what being on the low end of the calculus of power meant. Mathilde’s machinations had cost him the throne of West Landly. Worst of all, it had cost Dax his family and his sense of place in the world. Although it had been fifteen years since he had fled the city of Tazzelton, frigid tendrils of fear clutched his heart every time he remembered how alone and frightened he had been. The world in those days had been not just indifferent to his fate, but hostile.
“I’ve always liked the dream where you are in the market square naked with everyone staring at you.”
Dax smiled at Kahshect’s reminder. “Yes,” he thought, “I’ve sometimes wondered if that one didn’t come from that time. Goodness knows I’ve had it often enough.”
“So you are going to be a king again?”
Dax thought about what he had said. “No. I swore an oath. I will not usurp the assembly’s process of choice.”
“Would you be king if they asked you?”
That, of course, was the real question, the one that Dax had yet to resolve. Would he want to be king? He was just a boy when he had been king in West Landly. He had worked, studied, and trained to become ruler of that kingdom. He had worked all the harder after his father, the king, had died—Been poisoned! he reminded himself. A familiar surge of dragon anger accompanied the thought. He took comfort in the anger, but he forced it away. This was a time for thought, not battle.
There was so much a king had to know. So much to do. Evnissyen, his tutor, and Herne, his physical trainer, had never discussed an end to his studies. Scholars in their last year at the upper gymnot school could look forward to celebrating encaenia when they completed their studies. But could one ever learn enough to be king? No, learning alone did not make a good king. The question remained unanswered: Would he be a good king?
“Would you be as good a king as Kankasi was or Ruprek would have been?”
“Agh! Not a fair question,” Dax protested. “Kankasi was the king. He was vain with no attention span, but he ruled. Ruprek never got the chance to rule.”
“You are avoiding the question,” the dragon observed.
“Of course I am. I’ve spent years thinking about what might have been. Treyhorn helped me accept the life I was given to lead and not dwell on the impossible.”
“Ah, yes, your great-aunt. So what would she tell you now that becoming king is possible? By the way,” Kahshect added, “she and the others will be here by midmorning.”
“Thank you for telling me. I need to cancel some meetings.” Dax was quiet for a time. He could tell Kahshect still wanted to talk about Treyhorn. “She was a royal,” Dax said, “even though she was born out of wedlock. She could have made a life for herself at court, but she found she was dragon-bound. She made that her life.”
“Would she have liked a life at court?”
“That’s my point.” Dax was on firmer ground here. “She and I talked about my position as ‘king in exile,’ but she made me realize my life would be nothing but bitter regrets if I saw myself that way. I had to find my way to a new life. I had to find out who I really am. I didn’t realize it at the time, but arriving at Iron Moor, where Renshau gave me a new name, marked a turning point.”
“Reborn as a mercenary.”
Dax laughed. “Until Renshau thought I should be a political advisor. Look at how that turned out.”
“Yes,” Kahshect replied almost smugly. “You’re as big a hero in the kingdom of East Landly as any champion. As big a hero as Frohliem, who, if I remember from what you’ve said, became king himself.”
“You keep bringing that up. Are you telling me you think I should be king? Queen Layna might have your ears for her trophy room for saying things like that.”
“Well who knows you better than your own bondmate? If they had any sense, they’d make you king right now and end all the troubles.”
“Right,” Dax sighed. “Well, if I am going to have the verdict of the conclave in the morning, I should get some sleep. I might be an outlaw on the run from all humankind and dragonkind by this time tomorrow.”
“Don’t be silly. We were perfectly justified in killing that drakon. I don’t sense anything but satisfaction from the dragons, and that means their bondmates are happy too.”
“I hope you are right,” Dax said. “Good night, Kahshect.”
“Good night, General Daxdendraig, Hero of East Landly.”
Dax barked a short laugh in reply and retired to his bed. However, he did not fall asleep until much later in the night.
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Overnight, the cold, sharp wind of early spring turned to a cold, wind-driven rain. Before he left the palace, Dax put on a long cloak of oiled canvas and a wide-brimmed hat. He rode out to what people now called the Dragon Fields. The dragon-bound and their dragons waited there, a safe distance from the city. Bindle Treyhorn greeted him first with a hug. “You look much better than the last time I saw you three months ago.”
“I am better,” he said quietly, “but there are other developments I’d like to talk with you about later.” The others approached, and he wished to save his political worries for another time.
Gadford Rudale shook his hand in greeting. “Walking better, are you?” He gestured to the woman beside him. “I think you know Carel Osset from Marret Town out east?”
Dax took her hand as well. “I apologize for my wet hands. I think the last time we met was the conclave two years ago last summer?”
An older woman, Osset still had the lithe and lively air of most dragon-bound. “My hands are wetter than yours, and you’re right—the summer conclave.”
Renshau waited under the nearby shelter. “Under the tent,” he barked at them. “All of you. Now that I’m warm, I refuse to come out in the cold.” He spoke with his usual tone of command, but the other dragon-bound needed little encouragement to get in out of the raw weather. A small fire warmed the inside of the tent. The Ugori had erected the shelter near their encampment to accommodate the now-frequent visits of the dragon-bound and their dragons.
They shed their wet gear, and Dax offered the group a selection of fresh-baked pastries he had brought in a box from the palace kitchens. After they had made tea with hot water from a pot on the fire, they settled into small but comfortable chairs around its warmth.
“Getting used to fancy cooking now, are you?” Rudale said after he had bitten into a sweet roll.
“Gadford, let’s not keep the poor boy waiting.” Treyhorn turned to Dax. “Conclave concurs you did nothing wrong defending Frohliem City and the kingdom of East Landly from the Tharan attack. Killing the drakon was an act of mercy to the beast. The conclave commended both you and Kahshect for your actions.” She smiled faintly. “Gadford was almost eloquent presenting the case for your defense.”
“What do you mean ‘almost’?” Rudale retorted, and Dax thought he saw a sparkle of amusement in his eyes. Well, Dax thought, a first time for everything.
Dax nodded, absorbing the news. “Thank you, Gadford, and thank you all for your help. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there, but it sounds as if you did a fine job.” The other side of the question remained, so he asked it. “What about the Tharans? Did the conclave decide to do anything?”
Renshau scowled. “The offense was egregious. Our reaction, inadequate.” He shook his head. “We will send an official team to meet their emperor, Darjazen, to demand an explanation for the attack.” He looked down and growled, “What could we do? Declare war?” Treyhorn touched his sleeve, and some of the anger went out of the man, but he still frowned. “I’ve dealt with the Tharans before,” he said. “Darjazen will claim it was a renegade who somehow got his hands on a dragon and decided to take matters into his own hands.”
“The force that attacked was small, so the argument is at least plausible.” Dax continued the thought.
“Plausible if we hadn’t heard the like before.” Rudale started to spit in disgust, then changed his mind when he saw Treyhorn staring at him.
“What do we know from the dragon-bound in Thara?” Dax asked.
Osset spoke up. “There are no dragon-bound in Thara.” Dax looked at her in surprise, and she said, “Sorry, but I guess the subject never came up at any of the meetings you’ve attended.”
“Sure did this time, though,” injected Rudale.
Osset continued. “More than a hundred years ago, the Tharans declared the dragon-bound were abominations. We have no dragon-bound in Thara. No egg-bonding program. Nothing. Thara is a question mark for us.”
Renshau cleared his throat. “We have had clandestine contacts. Although Thara does not allow outsiders to travel freely in their country, we occasionally send one of us along with a trading group. They seldom get outside their port of call, but they listen to gossip in the local marketplaces.” He gestured helplessly with his hands. “It’s not much, but it’s the best we can do.”
“What about airborne patrols by dragon-bound over Thara?” Dax asked.
“We talked about that,” Renshau nodded. “Thara is an awfully large place, but we might see something.”
“Could the draigs do the scouting?” Dax asked. “They have better eyes than we do.”
“Possible. They have better eyes, but they understand less about what they see when they look at the works of men.”
“But what about looking for other drakons?” Dax had brought this idea up before with Renshau and Treyhorn, but he was not sure if the others supported his suspicions. “Now more than ever I’m convinced Thara has been stealing eggs from the Dragon Lands for years.”
“I agree. We should talk more about this.” Treyhorn shifted in her chair, and Dax knew she was about to change the topic. “There’s something else you should know, Dax. One of the Kotkel will go with the delegation to visit Emperor Darjazen.” She nodded at Dax’s surprise. “Yes, they were at Conclave for the first time in years and years. They are involved this time.”
“They’re worried,” Dax stated.
“That was our guess,” added Osset. “I visit the Kotkels’ settling up in the mountains north of Marret Town from time to time. When I told them about the attack, they stopped their harmony song to hold a discussion with the entire population of the settling. They didn’t discuss it in Common, but I could tell they were upset.
