Realm of Dragons

“He is angry right now,” Finnal said. “Believe me, I know what it is to be made to do things by a father. Yet, if you leave it until the wedding harvest is done… until you are wed…”

“He might have calmed down a little by then,” Lenore said. That made sense. Maybe time would let her persuade her father. There was only one problem with that. “What will happen to Nerra in the meantime?”

“She will be safe enough,” Finnal said. “We have to hope.”

“Will you help me find her, Finnal?” Lenore asked. She felt as though Finnal was one of the few people she could truly trust. He was to be her husband, after all.

He paused only briefly before answering. “If that is what you wish, then of course I shall look. I would do anything for you, my love.”

Lenore was more grateful for that than she could say. She wanted to kiss him more than anything right then, but he had already taken her hand and was leading her down toward the courtyard.

“You must not be late,” Finnal said.

In the courtyard, a carriage awaited her, of gilt wood and drawn by four white horses. A pair of maids were loading it with her things, before getting up into it to accompany her. Half a dozen guards were with it, which seemed like too few for such a journey, although Lenore was pleased to see Rodry there. Finnal seemed less pleased, though, holding back as Lenore went to go closer.

“I will say goodbye to you here, my love,” he said.

“I wish you and Rodry weren’t at odds,” Lenore said.

“We aren’t at odds,” Finnal replied. “I just… it’s clear that he has no liking for me, and I will not fight with my beloved’s family.” He lifted her hand to his lips. “I will await your return, Lenore. Each heartbeat that you are gone will be an agony.”

He always seemed to know the perfect thing to say.

“I love you,” Lenore whispered as she pulled back from him.

“I love you too.”

It took an effort to go to Rodry and the carriage.

“Are you going with me?” Lenore asked him as she got near. That would be something, to have the finest warrior of the kingdom with her.

But Rodry shook his head. “Father has said that Vars must do it. He’s to gather men and meet you by the crossroads at Averton, to the south. From there, you’ll ride a circuit of the kingdom together.”

“I can’t imagine Vars will like that,” Lenore said, thinking of how her brother would hate to be away from the inns of Royalsport. Her expression turned serious after a moment. “Do you know that Nerra is gone?”

Rodry nodded. “It’s the only reason I’m not going to push the issue of accompanying you. I’ll stay behind and try to find her, then join you when I can.”

That was a good thought on his part, and it made Lenore happy that she wasn’t the only one trying to keep their sister safe. She hugged her brother.

“Do one more thing for me,” she said.

“What?” Rodry asked, then flinched as Lenore glanced over to her betrothed. “Oh, no, anything but that.”

“Please, Rodry. Finnal is going to be my husband, and you are my brother. It’s important that you should get along.”

“How can I, with the things they say about—”

“Lies,” Lenore said. “They’re lies, Rodry.”

“It’s not a lie that his father stood there with the nobles who tried to have Nerra banished,” Rodry pointed out.

“Then that’s all the more reason to make Finnal a good friend,” Lenore replied. “Maybe he can persuade his father to talk to the others. He’s not responsible for what his father does, Rodry.”

“He’s responsible for what he does,” Rodry said.

“And so far, he hasn’t done anything to make him your enemy,” Lenore said. “He’s the man I’m marrying, Rodry. Make a friend of him.”

“How?” Rodry asked, as if he weren’t the best of all of them at making friends.

“I don’t know. Take him hunting or something. Please.”

She said it insistently enough that even Rodry had to nod, and Lenore redoubled her hug.

“Thank you. Good luck finding Nerra.”

“And good luck out on the road,” Rodry said. “Not that you’ll need it. People will flock to see you. This wedding harvest will remind them of all of the things our family has done for them, and they’ll love you for it.”

“I hope so,” Lenore said. “I really hope so.”

***

Lenore, her maids, and the few guards with her rode down through the city, and on every side there were people gathered to see her off. Lenore couldn’t help smiling at the joy they showed, and she waved, even though there was still so much of her thinking about weightier things.

“They will find Nerra,” Lenore said to herself, careful not to say it loud enough that her maids might hear. For now, Finnal and Rodry were right—she had to focus on this duty. It was a duty, even if it was a pleasurable one. She and the others with her would have to visit every corner of the kingdom, and that would mean traveling every day, to reach places she barely knew about. Not the far north, obviously, where the dead lands around the volcanoes lay, but all of the rest of the kingdom, all of the towns, and probably many of the villages.

Looking out at the people waving and throwing flowers, Lenore didn’t think it would be that much of a chore.

They gave her more than that, too. At several spots in the city, her carriage drew to a halt and representatives of the Houses gave her chests that when she opened them shone with gold or stones.

“A sign of our loyalty,” a young woman from the House of Sighs said as she curtseyed and held out the gift of a necklace strung with the finest pearls.

No wonder they called it a wedding harvest.

As the carriage continued, slowly leaving Royalsport in its wake, Lenore found herself wondering if there shouldn’t be more men with it. After all, it already contained as much wealth as she had seen in one place, plus herself and her maids, who were both from noble families.

“That’s why we’re meeting up with Vars,” she reminded herself. Her brother would  be there to keep her safe. Besides, the sight of more cheering folk along the side of the road told her how foolish her fears were. The people loved her, so what could go wrong?

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

Odd walked around the monastery and tried to work out how long it would be able to hold out once the bulk of the Southern forces put their minds to taking it. It wasn’t a pleasant calculation. They wouldn’t have brought any siege equipment with them on the ships, and that would buy some time, but not much when the monks were mostly untrained in the arts of walls. Really, all they needed were ladders.

“We’ll need to evacuate,” he said to the others walking with him. For the most part, they were younger monks, because he hadn’t seen the older ones since the attack. “That means that some of us will have to slow them down while we get to—”

“Brother Odd?” A young monk ran up to him. “The abbot requires your presence, Brother.”

Brother Odd nodded. Of course he must speak to the abbot. They had to discuss what to do next, and work out the best way to save as many of the monks as possible. He followed the young monk through the monastery to the abbot’s chambers. The old man sat there in a chair, writing what looked like a series of letters. That wasn’t the part that made Brother Odd stop short, though.

There was a chest by the abbot’s side that Odd recognized. It was made from dark wood that they said had been charred by the fringes of a dragon’s breath, and bound in dull iron. The lock was a simple, solid thing, and Brother Odd was shocked to see that a key sat in it, ready.