"However, Enkelares and the a.s.sembly of Lords-those who are here in the city-will probably agree to the terms, with stipulations. I would expect that Hurkun will accept our offer."

"What?" The two women spoke together, aghast.

"How could they agree to giving away part of the kingdom?" said Claressa.

"Because we do not have the strength to drive them out," he said. "Most of our fleet is in the north, guarding the gulf against the b.l.o.o.d.y Havalqa, who are moving seemingly at will through Threndellen and Armenos. We've several thousand men along our border and we can't risk withdrawing them for a campaign to the south."

"We can pay for mercenaries if it comes to that," said Claressa.

"There's no money to pay for them. The treasury has been sorely drained. One of our stipulations is that the amount of tribute to be paid to us according to the Treaty of Urkein will increase substantially to help refill our coffers."

"Gerin should make a decision of this magnitude," said his sister.

"I agree. But he's not here, and he left Enkelares in charge. I hate this, but we have very few options."

Claressa rose from her chair and stood before him, her face twisted with rage. Her entire body was tensed, her fists clenched.

"You're a b.l.o.o.d.y coward," she said. "Father would be ashamed."

She wheeled about and stormed from the room, leaving Therain stunned and speechless.

23.

Tyne Fedron rode his horse down a road of hard-packed earth, the Commanding Stone held firmly in his hand. The dragons wheeled in the sky above him. Most flew high, but he kept a few low to the ground to protect him should the need arise. They could not fly slow enough to match his pace and so had to continually circle him, the beating of their wings making a constant wind. He could sense when they tired, and then he allowed them either to rest upon the ground or join their kin higher in the sky, where they could glide upon currents of air.

In those first days after their arrival, he'd attempted to ride upon the neck of one of the smaller dragons, but it was impossible to hold on. The scales could flex and bend where they were attached to its hide but were as hard as steel and too rough-edged for him to hold. Just raising its head almost dislodged him.

So he walked, and the dragons flew.

His dragons ate cattle and sheep wherever they found them. Their appet.i.tes were huge, and he had to allow them to hunt while they traveled, which meant that at times they flew well out of his sight in their search for food. But no matter where they were, he could sense them through the Stone, and when they ate, he could feel contentment through the connection.

He'd destroyed three villages so far. When he came across the first one, the villagers ran screaming at the sight of the dragons.

"Kill them all!" he screamed.

The dragons swooped from the sky. They set the thatch-roofed houses on fire and devoured dozens of shrieking villagers. Others perished in the flames. The dragons killed all of the horses and mules before he could think to command them to allow at least one to live so he could ride instead of walk. He did find some food in the wreckage, which he stuffed into his pack.

He'd continued on, the smoke of the devastation churning into the sky behind him.

He pondered the devastation he had brought about as he rode across the plains on a horse he'd taken from the second village. He did not just want to destroy, he told himself. That should not be his goal. He needed to instill fear, to be sure, but if he destroyed everything, killed everyone, then there would be nothing for him to rule.

He reached a rutted path that eventually gave way to a better maintained road of hard-packed dirt. He spied a caravan of merchants on the road ahead of him, but they were already turning about, attempting to flee.

Tyne felt the dragons' desire to devour the caravan in their hunger, but he forbid it. He wanted the merchants to flee, to spread the word of his coming.

And with that, fear.

The merchants had apparently come from a small walled town with a lone hillock rising from the prairie on its southern face. The road he was riding upon led to a wooden gate that was now closed. Atop the hillock were several manor houses and a single, central tower surrounded by a stone wall that rested like a crown on the hillock's head. He spied some movement behind the wall atop the hill. Men with bows peeked through the crenellations, then quickly ducked down.

He would not destroy this town. He wanted, instead, to exert his power over the people here.

Feed on the sheep and cattle, he called out to the dragons. But do not kill people unless they attack you.

The dragons swooped from the sky and tore apart the terrified animals grazing in the pastures as Tyne continued on toward the gate, concerned that someone might try to kill him with an arrow. When he got to the edge of what he gauged was the range of a longbow, he paused. Let the dragons eat their fill. Then I'll tame this place.

If there were problems, he could always burn it down and try again at the next town.

He waited a few minutes for the dragons to eat, then commanded them to circle the town only fifty or sixty feet above the thatch roofs. He ordered two of them to land on either side of him to act as escorts as he closed the distance to the gate.

Tyne saw two eye slits slide open in the gate. "By the G.o.ds," shouted a man who remained hidden, "what manner of devils have you brought upon us?"

"The dragons are mine to control," said Tyne. He sent a command to the two beasts flanking him. They reared back their heads and sent gouts of flame into the air. Even over the roar, he could hear people screaming inside the walled town.

"Obey me, and you will live. Defy me, or attempt to harm me in any way, and the dragons will burn your town and devour each of you as hungrily as they did your cattle."

"What is it you want?" said the same man. His voice quavered with fear.

"I already told you: obedience," said Tyne. "And a harness."

It did not take long for him to claim the largest manor house as his own. He allowed the few household servants to remain, but turned out the family immediately. From the haste at which they ran from the house, he did not think they minded overmuch. The dragon sitting in the yard outside the manor was obviously not to their liking.

He told the servants he was not to be disturbed for any reason, then locked himself in a bedroom and slept for two days. When he awoke he was famished, though not as hungry as he should have been. Drexos had been right: when he slept after using the Stone, the power within it sustained him somehow, so that he did not die of starvation or thirst.

He commanded that a saddle or harness maker be brought to him. He enjoyed the way everyone leapt to obey him. They recognized his power, the authority he carried with him. Soon everyone will obey me the way these people do.

The servants led a balding, broad-shouldered man into the room. Despite the man's imposing size and obvious physical strength, he stared at Tyne with wide-eyed terror. The sight of his fear made Tyne grin. By the G.o.ds, he could almost smell the fear on him!

"I need a harness," said Tyne. "Can you make one for me?"

"I...of course, my lord."

"This is not for a horse or mule. I need a saddle and harness for one of my dragons."

The man's eyes widened even farther, and his knees buckled. "My lord, please. I-I can't."

"If you can't, then I'll allow my dragon to feast on your flesh and find another to make what I need."

The man swallowed thickly. "But, my lord, to make a harness I will have to measure it. The beast will gobble me up!" He looked ready to weep.

"I control them completely. Never forget that. I will not permit it to harm you while you work. Get whatever tools you need, then return here. You'll be fitting the dragon that waits outside. Tarry, and I will not be pleased."

Trembling, the man bowed low. "Yes, my lord." Then he ran from the room.

While the saddle maker labored over his task, one of the servants entered-a pretty dark-haired girl who reminded Tyne of Ula Joleshra back home-and said there was a young man outside who wanted to speak to him.

Curious, Tyne told her to show him in. People avoided him as if he were the physical incarnation of death. They did not seek him out. What could this person want?

The servant girl ushered in a thin boy who looked to be in his late teens. His clothing and long matted hair were filthy. He had a half-starved, ravenous look to him, but there was also a gleam of cunning in his eyes.

"What do you want?" asked Tyne.

"To help you."

Tyne laughed. "And what could you possibly do to help me?"

"Whatever you need me to." He stepped forward, a hungry look on his face. "I hate it here. I hate everyone in this place. I'll do anything to leave with you. Just say it. If you want someone dead, I'll kill them for you. Anything."

Tyne regarded him for a moment in silence. His first impulse was to tell the boy no and send him away, but he held back on that while he thought about it a little more. Would there be a benefit to having someone else along? While he was fine being alone, it would be nice to have someone to talk to from time to time. And to guard him while he slept after using his power. He still felt vulnerable when in the deep sleep caused by using the Stone.

And if the boy caused trouble, it would be simple enough to be rid of him.

"All right. You can come with me."

The boy looked shocked and confused, as if he had not heard Tyne correctly. "You saying you'll take me?"

"Are you an idiot? That's what I said. Though I may have to rethink my decision if you're a simpleton."

The boy shook his head. "I'm not a simpleton. My name's Marrek Drayke. I know how to listen and shoot a bow and set traps and fish so we can eat. I'll do whatever you tell me."

"Will you swear to it by whatever G.o.ds you worship here?"

The boy nodded.

"Then swear it. Swear that you will serve me without question, and that if you ever doubt me or betray me, you will suffer the wrath of your G.o.ds and die a traitor's death."

"I swear by Lord Nural that I'll serve you and never betray you."

Tyne nodded, pleased. This is how it begins. With one boy swearing an oath to me. But it won't end here. Before I'm done, tens of thousands will swear their lives to me.

"As my first command to you, find the saddle maker and tell him he needs to make an adjustment. He'll need to make two harnesses for the dragon."

A smile split Marrek's thin lips. Tyne had wondered if the boy would change his mind when he realized he would be flying on a dragon.

"Yes, my lord. At once."

24.

Algariq allowed Balandrick to speak each night, though he quickly learned what questions to avoid. If he displeased her in any way, she simply commanded him to be silent. He could not ask about her son-Gerin had told him about her only child-or what her life had been like in Aleith'aqtar. Military questions were also off limits.

One night he asked her about Gerin's escape from Gedsengard. "He felt certain you would have been executed."

"As did I. And if I had not left the island before Tolsadri returned from death-"

"Wait a minute! You mean he's not dead? The Voice of the Exalted that Gerin killed?"

She frowned, annoyed that he'd interrupted her, and he felt certain she would not answer him. But after a brief pause, she replied.

"Loremasters have the power to return from death if the damage to their bodies is not too severe. As I was saying, if I had not fled the island before his return, he certainly would have had me killed."

"And you don't think he will have you killed now?"

"Oh, he will try." The hatred she felt for the Voice of the Exalted was evident when she spoke of him.

They were quiet for a time before she broke the silence. "Do you know why Prince Gerin spared my life in the prison cell? I was powerless. He should have killed me. I can make no sense of it."

"He hasn't spoken to me about it, but I would wager he felt pity for you despite what you had done to him. You'd told him about your son, and how you were treated by your people. I'm sure he felt you had no choice but to do what you did. He showed you mercy, and you should be grateful for it." He could not help adding that last point, though he was sure it would draw her ire.

Her brows knitted above her nose as she pondered this. She did not seem angered by his comment. "I still do not understand," she said. "If I had regained consciousness sooner, I could have prevented his escape. It was dangerous to him to leave me alive."

"And that was a risk he was willing to take to show you mercy. It sounds as if you've never been merciful. You should try it sometime. It may be the only way you'll ever understand."

One evening after a hard ride, she'd ordered him to disrobe. "I need to replenish my power, and you are the only source." She looked exhausted, drained, her eyes sunken and hollow.

He screamed in his head, but his body obeyed. She took off her clothes as well, then stretched out on the gra.s.s, spread her legs, and commanded him to have s.e.x with her.

As his body obeyed, his horrified mind wondered if this had happened to Gerin as well. If so, he understood why the king had not spoken of it. Such a violation was obscene.

He felt energy drain from him, sucked out of his body by the power of the soul stealer. He thought he would die, that she would take all that he had to give. But then there was a crescendo to both her power and the climax of their s.e.x. He collapsed, exhausted. She pushed him off her and ordered him to dress.

Filled with misery and self-loathing, he obeyed.

The G.o.ds take me, look at that army, thought Balandrick when he and his captor first spied the Havalqa encampment. There must be fifty thousand solders, and half again as many to keep them supplied.

The Havalqa army was camped outside the walls of a small city that hugged the northern sh.o.r.e of the Candago River. Two stone bridges spanned the narrow, swift current, connecting the city to a smaller settlement on the far side.

The banks of the river were nearly vertical, like the rain gutters cut into some of the curbs in Almaris. Dense trees lined both banks, though they only extended a few hundred feet from the water before yielding to the plains.

The city walls had been thoroughly smashed in a recent battle. Balandrick saw gaping, scorched holes in the stone. In several places the entire wall had collapsed under the a.s.sault.

Whatever fighting had occurred here was over now. The city had fallen to the Havalqa. He could see Havalqa standards upon the battlements above the shattered gates.

"We must find the Voice of the Exalted," said Algariq as they made their way toward the camp perimeter. "I believe this is the army he was to be traveling with. If it is not, we'll find where he is and move on."