The Last Dragon: Book Three

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Princess Elizabeth

Seven of the nine councilmen came to meet with me in my official role as an envoy of Dire. They were due to arrive in the late afternoon on the Gallant. Seven was more than the five I demanded to have a simple majority. I suppose they had grown curious when Timor delivered my ultimatum. They arrived on the pier in five beautiful coaches, and since there was only the passenger lounge large enough to hold us all on the ship, the purser, with the captain’s permission, escorted them there.

The lounge was closed to all but us. I’d left specific instructions that no snacks or drinks be made available to my guests, since presumably, all had dined elsewhere, without me. Perhaps next time they would ask me to dine with them. Besides, it was a small indication that I feared none of them.

After they were shown to the passenger lounge by the ship’s officers, I left them to their own devices as I slowly dressed in a gown made of shimmering threads that Lady Grace revealed to me from one of her trunks. Along with it, she opened a small trunk filled with bracelets, rings, pendants, brooches, necklaces, pins, and on top, the tiara. My father had planned well.

We decided not to overdo it. Simple can at times be more impressive—but I wanted to wear the tiara as a symbol they would recognize. A green-stoned pendant set in gold offset the green of the shimmering dress, and I couldn’t help but be reminded of the Blue Lady from the mountain pass and the way she shimmered. When fully dressed and we decided they had waited long enough, Lady Grace escorted me to the lounge and formally announced my entrance.

The council members leaped to their feet, but none bowed or curtsied. I waited, caught the eye of Lady Grace and muttered loud enough to be overheard, “Barbarians.”

They were shocked at being treated so. One said, “I am . . .”

I held up my hand and hissed for him to stop making a fool of himself. The members of the council were commoners, and despite their new positions of leadership, they were still in awe of royalty. I held my chin high and met his gaze with a cold one of my own. “Haven’t you ever been in the presence of Royalty? In my kingdom, your head may have been removed by one of my father’s guard’s great-swords by now. Bow or genuflect, your choice, however, if we are to continue, you will display respect for my rank.”

He hesitated.

A woman said, “We don’t . . .”

I didn’t hesitate, either. Without a word or giving her the time to finish her statement, I spun and strode out the door on the way back to my cabin, Lady Grace at my heels. Neither of us looked back.

However, there was the tiny porthole in my cabin, and it faced the pier. We crowded each other until we could both see, like giggling school girls. Lady Grace whispered, “I thought I’d die.”

“You didn’t believe I could do it?”

“To be honest, no. But I’ll never doubt you again.”

“Did you see the looks on their faces?”

She giggled again. “Like sick puppies. They didn’t know what to do. And when you threatened the one, his face turned all sorts of reds and purples. They are so used to having people grovel at their feet; your little act took them all by surprise.”

I agreed with her. And I understood the reason for their actions. “They were all commoners. None were born to rule, and no matter how hard they tried to impress, they are not royals and know it.”

It took a while for them to understand I wouldn’t return to the negotiations, but eventually, all seven trailed from the lounge and across the gangplank to their fancy carriages. As a group, they moved as if I’d wrestled and beaten each and every one of them.

Lady Grace said, “How long before they contact you for another meeting?”

“They will try tonight, but you will intercept any messengers and prevent them from seeing me. I’ll be working on the outline of the new treaty with you, but you will turn away any visitors. No messages will be handed to you, no words carried by your lips. Make that clear.”

“I could ask the purser to refuse to allow them on board,” she said.

“No, it will be more proper if you turn them away at my door. Our good captain and purser should not have to do our work for us. Besides, you will enjoy sending them off. Now help me get out of this ridiculous dress and into my pants.”

The carriages pulled slowly away.

Lady Grace watched with me and then she said, “You’re sure they will return?”

“No. But I came to work out a treaty with the capital of Kondor, not Vin. If they do not contact me again, I will sail on to Dagger in the morning, and perhaps news of my actions will reach there first. It is like little boys fighting, when you think of it. The one that punches the other first wins almost all of the time.”

She giggled and said, “Well, if the world of diplomacy works the same, you sure landed the first punch.”

The first messenger arrived shortly after. Lady Grace easily turned the young man away. The second was a woman, and there was a look about her that made me think she was a sorceress. I watched from behind a dressing screen, through the small opening in the door to my cabin.

The messenger smiled her greeting but said nothing at first. The little I knew of them was that instead of calling down lightning and rain, levitating small animals, and strengthening the attack of a warrior like mages do, the women were subtle. They used their magic to shift attitudes, deceive, and plant false memories—good and bad.

In this case, the messenger convinced Lady Grace to open the door wider. I knew because Lady Grace shifted her feet to allow the door to swing, but no words had passed between them. I leaped from behind the dressing screen and ran into the door with my shoulder, slamming it so hard the noise would probably cause the captain to send the purser to investigate how I was destroying his ship.

Lady Grace reacted as if awoken from sleep, her eyes went wide, and she looked confused for the briefest time. I slammed the bolt closed.

Lady Grace said, “I don’t understand.”

“Sorceress,” I spat.

“How did you know?”

That was a good question. All I’d seen were her eyes and a little of her face. But there was something I’d recognized. I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

I opened the porthole and watched the sorceress stroll across the gangplank, her long skirts almost touching the deck, her back straight. A carriage awaited, a utilitarian vehicle pulled by a mottled brown horse, certainly not a thoroughbred.

As she reached the single step behind the driver, she paused. Her head turned. Her eyes bore directly into mine, despite the distance being more than half the length of the ship. She knew I watched.

As if to acknowledge me in some manner, she lifted her right hand, the index finger held out pointing, but instead of aiming it at me, she used it to touch her forehead in a small salute. I felt a chill.

She turned and climbed into the carriage, and the driver snapped the reins. The carriage jolted away.

Lady Grace said, “She was looking right at us. Like she knew we were watching.”

“I think she did.”

“But when she came to the door, I was going to tell her you wouldn’t accept visitors. Something happened. My mind went blank, and then I was going to open it.” Lady Grace’s words were slow as she tried to figure out what happened.

“The woman was a sorceress. I think she compelled you to do what she wanted.”

“I don’t like them. I heard there were one or two in Dire, mostly telling fortunes and such, but then a year ago, more arrived and lived in and around Crestfallen. I never met one, nor did I wish to.”

“What about mages?” I asked.

“Them too. I want nothing to do with either.” Her voice held an edge of vehemence I’d never heard from her. Almost as if scared.

“I’ll answer the door for any more. You should get some rest.”

She said, “I will, but when will you accept the invitation to meet again?”

“Tomorrow, I expect.”

“Your reasons for putting it off are to set the tone that you are not to be taken lightly, but I sense there is another,” Lady Grace said, her hand on the door latch. “You don’t have to tell me, of course.”

“I want to see the castle, palace, or royal home, whatever they call it. While there, you and I will look and listen for clues about the king. I will make no treaty with the Council of Nine until I’m satisfied who is in authority, and why.”

She opened the door and slipped out.

I remained on my feet, my mind on the mission and trying to decide my best course of action. Placing myself at odds with the ruling council might not be the best, but it did show I’d not simply go along with their requests and demands. I was convincing them Dire was not to be taken lightly, and an ambassador from there was to be treated with respect.

That said, I felt better. My insecurities were temporarily soothed, and my spirits raised. Most of the passengers, as well as sailors, had taken the opportunity to spend the day in Vin where wine was said to be superior, the food tasty, and prices reasonable. I made my way to the dining room and found only three passengers. Only a single sailor had been on watch at the gangplank.

The ship felt empty. I found a meager platter of hard crackers, dried cheese, and small smoked fish the size of a shriveled finger. I took a few crackers and a little fish and held it all in my palm as I went outside to my place at the rail. Once there, I nibbled as I watched what little I could see of Vin in the late afternoon.

I wished the vendors selling food had remained on the pier and felt the coins in the purse at my waist. If I saw a boy on the pier who looked trustworthy, I’d call out to him and send him in search of the chunks of meat they sold that roasted on sticks over hot coals and emitted such wonderful scents.

The city caught my attention. Two-story tall buildings, most with dreary, but fresh paint in neutral colors as if none wished to stand out. The construction appeared solid, but there was little decoration and no flowers, although on the morning side of many were vegetable gardens. With the desert heat on my back, I knew the garden placement protected the plants from the scorching afternoon sun.

However, the sun was sinking fast, and already I felt the first touches of damp coolness from the ocean breeze. Almost everyone wore a protective hat, long sleeves, and had skin darkened from the sun to the color of aged wood. Unlike in Trager, which was only a day’s sail away under normal circumstances, there were people who were built husky and even some fat in sight. That told me a lot. It was a good test of the prosperity of a kingdom. Those cities like Trager had residents thin as kindling.

Trager had been a city of starving people looking more like stilts than those who’d had a meal yesterday and today. There was no joy on the faces. The people of Vin smiled. Vendors had products to sell.

But the Council of Nine ruled, and when I looked closer, there were small things that indicated cracks are forming. The lack of flowers and color bothered me. Where drab-colored paint chipped, reds, yellows, and whites peeked through. There had been color here, once. Not too long ago.

As the light dimmed more, and twilight turned to what we in Dire described as first-dark, a regular sound drifted to me and caught my attention. It echoed off the walls, and the few people on the streets faded away as candles were extinguished in the windows. The waterfront of Vin grew darker while the regular sound increased.

I recognized it. It was the marching of boots on stone streets. Army boots. Growing closer.

Around the corner of a building, a column of soldiers dressed in blue four across marched. Their arms swung as their boots pounded the ground in unison. They turned the corner and marched down the slope of the hill directly at the foot of the pier where the Gallant was tied. An officer, if the amount of gold braid on his shoulders and sleeves told anything of his rank, marched at the head. He called for a halt at the bottom of the gangplank.

I glanced away long enough to see that while there were plenty of lights in the rest of Vin, only the area near the ship was dark. Not a single light shown from a window. Local residents were scared and hid in the darkness. The damp coolness from the breeze turned cold.

The officer bounced up the gangplank and pulled to a stop in front of the sailor on duty. They exchanged a few words and the sailor turned and ran for the bridge where the captain’s quarters were located.

The captain rushed out while tucking his shirt into his waistband, barefoot, and red-faced. He charged the officer and shouted a series of questions. The officer shook his head, refusing to leave the ship.

The captain balled his fists and moved closer, ready to enforce his orders, but a short, thin sword appeared in the hand of the officer, the tip of the point touching the captain’s stomach. From my vantage, it was as if the officer dared him to move.

The officer waved his left arm, and four men trotted aboard. He asked the captain something. The captain’s head turned to face where I stood.

All four raced to me, two taking up positions on either side. None held weapons displayed. I briefly thought that if I could get my hands on a sword belonging to one, I could kill him and defeat the other three. Then I came to my senses. If I did, four more, or perhaps eight would rush me, maybe more. Sailors and passengers would rush to my rescue and die.

I stood tall.

One said, “You will come with us.”

The captain’s eyes smoldered as I passed by him. They looked directly at the officer still holding him at bay with the sword, and I wouldn’t wish to be him if the captain ever encountered him without a sword held to him. On a ship, all ships, the captains are kings. Always. To be boarded and have a passenger removed went against all he believed in and all maritime law.

It just scared the hell out of me. All my tough talk, my flouncing away from the Council in the passenger lounge, all my good intentions, and all my plans were gone. There was nothing else to do but attempt to be brave and not act the little girl I felt inside.

I was a political captive in a foreign land.