Draka

After the reaction I got from Vestem and his troop, walking through the gate into the army camp about two hours later was just as much fun as I’d hoped. I’d primed the assembled soldiers when I flew over the place, and the patrols I’d seen had every chance to see me right back, so word must have gotten around. Add to that Vestem sending one of his horsemen ahead when we got close, and there was a crowd waiting when we arrived. They were packed tight, everyone trying to get a look, and only parted to let us pass under the batons and furious curses of the officers — once they got their own eyeful, of course. Being treated like something between a movie star and a poorly caged Bengal tiger would have been terrifying to me as a human, and my three companions were visibly nervous. But while Tark had given me a valuable lesson in my lack of invulnerability, I knew that if I wanted to, I could leave whenever I wanted. With that in mind I allowed myself to relax and enjoy their amazement. It was only right; I was amazing, after all.

The entire camp was surrounded by a palisade, tall and strong enough to keep anyone out who couldn’t fly or make themselves an entrance. Inside and surrounding the center was another, lower wall. It looked more like a privacy fence than anything, and I suspected that it served the same purpose. We were led past this second wall into an open area which might be some kind of assembly or training ground, and there Vestem stopped and asked us to wait.

“I will go,” he told us, bristling with importance, “and inform my commander that you have arrived, with a message and a visitor for the general.” He turned to the others. “Make sure that our guests are not bothered!”

The four remaining horsemen answered as one. “Yes, Captain!”

No matter what the others may have said about the cavalry being a glorified social club for rich boys and girls, these four at least seemed to take their role as escort seriously. They formed a square around us at a short distance, and while there wasn’t a mob like there had been at the entrance, they still had to fend off a curious aide-de-camp or two and, at one point, extremely politely explain to a woman of indeterminate rank that we were guests for the general.

That turned out not to be entirely true, though. At first someone arrived to take Maglan’s message, but he refused, saying that he had strict orders from the council, via his regimental commander, to give it directly into the hand of General Sarvalian. The way his voice trembled when he did so suggested that the person he was refusing was several ranks above him, but he didn’t give in. My approval of him went up a little. The officer finally relented and instructed Maglan to come with him, but I interrupted.

“I’ll be coming with him,” I said, stepping closer. “The message tube has been opened, and I’m the one who did it. I won’t have Mag getting in trouble for something I did.”

The officer had steadfastly ignored me, and when I came near it became clear why. By his smell, the man was terrified of me. I couldn’t tell if he used his best judgment to get the message delivered or if he just didn’t dare to contradict me, but he “invited” me to come along almost instantly, only glancing at me for a second before looking away again. “Great!” I said, and decided to push it. I turned to my remaining two companions. “No point in you two sitting around in the sun all day. Let’s all go!”

“Draka, I’m not sure—” Garal said, but the officer spoke over him after a half-second of hesitation.

“I’m sure that can be accommodated! Come, all of you, then! Captain Vestem told us that you fought some mercenaries on your way. I’m sure the general will want you all to report in person!”

The unnamed officer, whose name I never learned, still didn’t look at me. The man who I knew in my bones must be General Sarvalian, however, looked at me like he was evaluating a piece of equipment. It was unnerving. I’d gotten used to being looked at with various levels of fear, curiosity, and adoration. Being coldly evaluated was not entirely new — Zabra’s man Hardal had been the same — but it still made me uncertain. What I was sure of was that no matter what the others had told me about political appointments and rot in the army’s command structure, this man was not just some rich guy here to pad his resumé. The three men and two women in the large tent with him looked to him for how to react when we were brought in, and he had an undeniable air of authority that even I felt. On top of that, the man looked more like a soldier or a farmer than a politician, in his late middle years but still with some considerable muscle on him, and with large hands and thick forearms.

Instinct was pissed, and I could see my shadow ahead of me, straining to get at the man. No matter who or what he was, he was human, and she wanted one of two things from humans: fear or adoration. Being treated as an equal, like with Sempralia or Zabra, had been bad enough. Being treated as something below or even outside of the hierarchy? That made her want to put this man in his place. And even attempting to do something like that would have been an absolute disaster. I couldn’t tell if the man himself had a hope in hell against me, but two of the people with him, a man and a woman, both had that same air of sudden, terrible violence as Sempralia’s bodyguard Kalder. If Tark had been able to injure me, these two may actually be able to disable or even kill me. I could still Shift, of course—

I forced myself to leave that line of thinking. Instinct was a part of me, and her anger was hot enough that it was making me think of ways to get out if I turned this into a fight. I needed to not even consider that option, if for no other reason than I had three people with me. I coaxed my shadow back to stillness, mollifying Instinct with silent promises that Sarvalian would understand the pecking order soon enough.

Sarvalian almost ruined it by addressing Maglan first. His voice was richer and warmer than I would have expected, but still clipped and to the point. “My tribune tells me you refuse to give your message to anyone but the general in command. Well, soldier, I’m General Sarvalian. Hand it over!”

“Yes, general!” Maglan snapped to obey. In two seconds flat he had the strap of the message tube over his head and was holding the leather cylinder out for the general to take.

“This seal has been broken. I’ve been told that there is an explanation. Explain.”

“I opened it,” I told him. “Maglain tried to stop me. Lalia tried to take it back.” I indicated her with a sweep of my head. “They failed.”

“Of course they damn well did.” The general was already scanning the message. “And why, Lady Draka, did you open the message?”

“I thought there might be a tracking medallion inside that the Silver Spurs mercenary company was using to follow us.” I fished it out from under my tongue, where I’d been keeping it, and held it out for him to see. “There was.”

There was absolutely no difference in the way he looked at the piece of enchanted jewelry and how he’d looked at me. “This would be the same medallion that Commander Terriallon recovered from the mercenary raiders some time ago?”

“One and the same, yeah.”

“And I assume that you are not willing to part with it.”

“Right again.”

“Enjoy, then. They’ve crossed into Happar anyway, as I suspect you know.” He turned to my companions. “I will speak to Lady Draka alone. One of my tribunes will show you where to go. Verlan, see to it. You’re dismissed. Parvion, Veretil, you can return to your other duties.”

There was a flurry of salutes and bows and “Yes, general”s, and then it was just me, Sarvalian, and his two bodyguards.

The general looked around the large tent. It wasn’t circus sized, but it must have been forty or fifty feet on a side, with large screens dividing it into two sections. “Wait here, would you?” he said, his speech much more relaxed than it had been. He disappeared into the smaller section, returning moments later with two large, flat pillows which he put next to each other on the floor, then set up a tent chair about five feet away from them and sat. “I’d offer you a chair, but our carpenters are busy as is. This work for you?”

“Sure, yeah.” Sarvilian’s bodyguards eyed me warily, taking positions next to and slightly in front of him as I padded over and rearranged the pillows a little, then lay down. His change in attitude had caught me a little off guard. I’d been prepared for a surly bastard whom I’d just have to tolerate until I’d fulfilled my end of the bargain, but the general suddenly seemed, if not friendly, then at least more approachable.

“You hungry? Thirsty? Never played host to anyone who’s not human before, but I’m sure we could rustle up something.”

“Ah, nah, that’s all right. Thanks.”

“Well then, Lady Draka, how do you think that we should proceed here? That letter you four brought me is officially from the council, but really it’s from Sempralia. There’s no mention of any tracking medallion. Mostly it just asks me to make good use of you and not to piss you off, with some suggestions of things to avoid and ways to keep you happy. But as for how to best employ you… honestly, I’m going to pretend that I don’t know anything at all about your kind. The fact that you are here, talking, making agreements, that’s pretty damned crazy, and goes against everything I’ve ever read or been told. So, Lady Draka, I’ll defer to you. How can I use you?”

How could he use me? Not how could I help him, or what could I do for him, but how could he use me. He may have been acting more amiable, but he still clearly saw me as a tool. Instinct didn’t like it, but I found it hard to hold it against him. He had no problem with treating me as a person; I suspected that he saw everyone in terms of how useful they could be. Perhaps that wasn’t a terrible trait in an army commander; perhaps it made everyone hate him. I had no idea.

So, how could he use me? That should be easy enough. “My deal with Lady Justice Sempralia was that I’d scout for you. I can fly, I can see perfectly in the dark, and against a night sky I’m nearly invisible. Just tell me where you want me to look and send me out at night, and I’ll be back by morning.”

“How are you with maps, recognizing and recording troop types and numbers, and things like that?”

“Ah…”

Honesty felt like the best policy, but I didn’t want to tell him that I only had the barest idea. Admitting ignorance stung my pride. He seemed to pick up on it from my hesitation, though.

“Would you like to talk with one of my aides, perhaps, to make sure that we don’t misunderstand each other?” His meaning was clear: Do you need to be taught all of this stuff?

“Nah, yeah, that would be for the best,” I said. I knew that I was being handled, but I was grateful for the consideration nonetheless.

“Then I’ll have Tribune Veretil take care of it once we’re done here. Can you go out tonight?”

“If I can have a snack and a nap, sure, yeah.”

“That’s set, then. I’ll have some—” He paused and looked at me. “I’ll have a couple pounds of meat and a barrel of water brought to you once you finish with Veretil. Guards, leave us and inform tribune Veretil that I will need him earlier than expected.”

The female bodyguard saluted with a “Yes, general,” but the male one hesitated. “General, with all—” he said, looking at me.

The general cut him off. “Your concern is appreciated, soldier, but unnecessary. Get to it!”

“...Yes, general.” He followed his fellow guard out, but he didn’t look happy about it.

“You’re not the least bit scared of me, are you, general?” I asked when we were alone. “Most people stink of fear when they first meet me. Those that don’t are usually at least nervous. You’re so calm that it’s almost insulting.”

“Am I? Perhaps I’ve overcorrected, then. Sempralia suggested you’d appreciate being treated like just any other important person.”

“I mean, yeah, I do. I’m just not used to being disregarded like this.”

“Well, let me put you at ease. There’s no disrespect intended. I simply don’t fear you. It has nothing to do with underestimating your capabilities. I have no doubt that you could kill me, should you wish to. I simply trust Sempralia’s evaluation of your temperament. Is she wrong when she tells me that you’ll never resort to violence without provocation?

“Nah, she’s right enough. So, what did you want to talk about that you don’t want your bodyguards hearing?”

“Tell me, Lady Draka, what is your opinion of Lady Justice Sempralia? Your honest opinion, right now?”

His question caught me off guard. My first thought was, what did it matter? My opinion of the woman wouldn’t make any difference as to whether I’d do my best to do a good job here. But by the calculating look he was giving me, I figured that he’d asked for a good reason. And I didn’t see how it could hurt to be honest; even if he sent off a message to Sempralia, that only meant that she’d be forewarned that I was not best pleased with her.

“I thought that she was honest and direct when I met her, “ I told him. “Now, though, I’m rather pissed at her. I’m going to have some questions for her next time I see her, and she’d better have some good answers for me if this cooperation is to go anywhere.”

The general nodded without taking his eyes off me. “The medallion?”

“That, and why she’d have me babysitting three messengers for five days in the first place, when I could have been here in a few hours at my own best pace. Why are they all three people I know? Why is she sending a message to you on paper at all? Don’t you have some way of communicating by magic? It doesn’t sound like there was anything secret in there except that she mentioned me, and in that case, why not just have me carry the message alone? All of those things together with the medallion being in the message tube makes it look like she was endangering people important to me on purpose, and if her judgment is as good as you seem to think it is, then she should know very well how I’d react to that.”

“Which is?”

“If she was anyone else I’d tear her to pieces. As it is, I’m restraining myself, and hoping that there are good reasons for everything.”

Again, Sarvalian nodded. “That is about what I expected you to say, considering you’re still here. For the sake of lady Sempralia, yourself, and the relationship between you and the council, I’m going to tell you a few things that I do not want to leave this tent. Can you promise me that?”

“Well… I can’t promise that I won’t tell my most trusted friends. Those would be the Lady Drakonum and her sister. I rely on their advice. If that’s all right with you…?”

“Can you vouch for their discretion?”

“Absolutely. If I tell them that I want something kept secret, they won’t tell a soul, not even their brother.”

“That’s acceptable. Lady Draka, I believe that you’ve been caught up in some political game, colored by some possible treason. Am I right if I say that you escorting the messengers was a last minute thing?”

“Right, yeah.”

“Sempralia says in her letter that she was refused permission to send it through the communications circle, on the excuse that it was not an official council communication but a personal one from her to me. It’s a shit-poor excuse, but she was told to send it by messenger instead. She doesn’t say so in the message, but knowing her she would have become suspicious that someone might try to intercept the message, and I agree. As for her choice of messenger and escort, that was most likely a direct and transparent manipulation by her. She paints you as deeply loyal to your friends. By what Captain Vestem said, and how you four held yourselves earlier, I’d guess you’re friendly with the mercenaries at least, correct?”

“Garal for sure, yeah. And Lalia too these days, I suppose. And Mag — that’s the soldier — he’s not so bad, either.”

“She would have chosen them to make sure that you would be compelled to protect them. It would have been easy enough. I’m sure the poor archer’s commander was confused, but he wouldn’t have refused a direct request from lady Sempralia to borrow one of his soldiers. Nor would Commander Terriallon, though I suspect he’s being well paid for the use of those two.”

“She could have bloody told me!”

“I agree. But what difference would it have made? In the best case, you would have known slightly earlier who your companions would be. Worst case, her message to you could have been intercepted and some political enemy of hers would know exactly who would be carrying her message.” He shrugged. “She would have known that this would annoy you. She simply calculated that it wouldn’t annoy you too much to be worth it.”

“Yeah, but this damned thing!” I brandished the medallion. “She could have told me about this!”

He shrugged again. “I don’t think she knew about it. She didn’t mention it in her letter, and there has been no word that something like it would be sent to us. I think someone planted it in the message tube.”

“Aw, fuck. Who? And why? To make it easier to intercept the message?”

“Probably. Or to get the medallion back to the Silver Spurs. As for who, we’ll need to investigate who had access to the message tube before it was given to — Maglan, was it? That’s not something you need to worry about. My point here was that I don’t see any reason that Sempralia should be the one responsible, and I hope that you won’t hold it against her.”

“She’s still going to have to explain herself. But yeah, sure, I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt. For now.”

“Thank you.” He stood from his chair. “And now, I hear Tribune Veretil outside. Lady Draka, I look forward to working with you. It’s not often one meets a living legend, after all.”

After some hesitation he offered his hand, and I shook it by reflex more than anything. I held back my strength, but I got the impression that so did he; his forearm barely tensed, but his grip was like a vise. We could have each squeezed as hard as we could, and all that would’ve happened would’ve been us looking like a pair of wankers.

“Same to you, General Sarvalian. I’ll enjoy making you glad that I’m on your side.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” he said, and the smile that accompanied his words was honest, friendly, and full of anticipation.