Page 119 of The Dragon Queen Complete Series Collection
Chapter 118
“A trade?” Brom’s tone was ferocious, as his hand slammed onto the hilt of his sword. “I think you’d find we’d be much more amenable to deals if we hadn’t essentially been kidnapped. You’re Marcus Lighthands?”
Marcus performed a bow with plenty of flourishes, the effect ruined by his raffish smile.
“Can’t exactly waltz up to the keep gates and announce myself, can I?” he shot back, then looked up towards where I still sat in the dim interior of the carriage. “Please, my lady, do come down from there, so that we can conduct our business.” I moved to the doorway of the carriage, and Flynn handed me down. Marcus’ eye gleamed with appreciation. “Well, look at you, lovely. A pretty boy in the day, a beautiful woman in the night.” He took a step forward but Brom’s sword, all of their swords, were unsheathed, stopping him. He made a show of lasciviously licking his lips. “You’d be damn near perfect.”
This one is dangerous , Glimmer told me from the carriage, where she had moved to the doorway and was eying the man steadily. He dreams of you. But before I could interrogate that, there was a feral response to Marcus’ taunting.
“She is,” Soren growled, “and she belongs to us.”
I shouldn’t have been as affected by that as I was, yet I found my cheeks flushing nonetheless.
“Well, if I’m to go home alone, then let's get down to business.” Marcus glanced over his shoulder at what looked like a garrison behind us. I knew, academically, that there were many of them spread throughout the city, ready to be deployed if we were ever attacked, or even to protect the city from internal conflict, but I failed to see why Marcus had engineered for us to be brought to this one. “Your lads are in there.”
“What?”
We all looked over the darkened garrison more closely.
“Then we’ve no need to conduct deals with thieves in the night,” Brom said stiffly. “The rider corps outranks the whole of the standing army. No one inside that garrison can deny us access to any part of it.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin, flipping it to Marcus like he was a messenger boy on the street. He caught it and bit the edge before raising an eyebrow, his expression verging on a sneer, showing he caught the inference in Brom’s gesture.
“Right you are, Wing Commander,” Marcus said, turning to go.
“Hold on.” I placed a placatory hand on Brom’s arm. “We need to find out what he knows before we go in.”
“Pippin—”
Glimmer, is Marcus telling the truth? I asked my dragon.
She glided down from the carriage, then moved closer to him. Marcus watched her every step with wide eyes as she came to stand before him.
“Well, aren’t you pretty…” He was going to reach out and pat her like a dog but she bared her vicious fangs at him, stopping him in his tracks. “And vicious too. Just the way I like my women. So, beastie, am I lying?”
He believes what he is saying is true , Glimmer told me, then I was treated to a memory she’d plucked from his brain. Of Marcus standing close to another man, the two of them having an intense conversation under their breaths, before coin was traded surreptitiously, their eyes on the street around them.
“Glimmer confirms that he believes it to be true.”
“So I’m not to be savaged by a miniature dragon? Well, that’s a relief,” Marcus said. “Now do you want to hear what I have to say or what?”
He was met by silence, but as we all looked at each other, we knew we did. Tonight seemed to be a night for people telling us what was happening, and we needed to know what had happened to the boys.
“The lads were moved to the garrison. Came in hooded, so no one could see them, but I’ve got a contact whose wife works in the garrison laundry. Said those lads weren’t the only newcomers that have walked through the gate. Been a complete change of personnel.”
“What? That can’t be right.” Brom frowned, then went on to shatter the credibility of what Marcus had said. “Soldiers are rotated regularly through the different garrisons across Nevermere, but never all at the same time.”
“That was reason enough to get my attention,” Marcus said with a nod. “The woman said they weren’t the usual soldiers either. They wear the king’s uniform, but…”
I didn’t know what he meant by that, but my men did. Each one of them stiffened, swords returned to scabbards, tension filling their bodies.
“What?” I asked, searching their faces. “What?”
“All have the same accent, these new lads do,” Marcus continued. “That was strange enough at the start. You lot try to mix people up from the different duchies to?—”
“Facilitate cohesion.” Brom’s voice was little more than a whisper. “So that they fight for the king, not their duchy.”
“Except those ones don’t.” Marcus jerked his head to the barricade of sharpened logs running around the perimeter of the garrison. “And they all talk just like you,” he added, staring hard at Brom.
Brom. Harlstonians. That was what had become clear and I stared at the garrison with new eyes. All armed forces within the capital belonged to the king, but each duke kept a standing army, ready to be deployed at notice from the king.
Well, mostly.
We’d had blessedly few civil wars, because the might of dragons was usually enough to stifle individual ducal ambitions, but now? If the queen herself had ordered her brother’s troops inside the city to occupy garrisons that had been emptied of the king’s men…
“The wing commander is still right. Whoever’s inside there, we outrank them.” Soren buffed his knuckles across the gleaming insignias at his breast. “Even if they’re the duke’s men, I’m assuming she doesn’t want to show her cards by having her men block us from entering. We can demand entrance.”
“And that’s why I brought you here,” Marcus said with a grin, then held out his hand to Ged. “Ten gold coins, I think we agreed.”
“I owe you nine and you’ll get it the minute we ascertain whether or not the intel is good,” Ged replied.
“Well, off you go then.” Marcus shooed at us like we were children.
“Pippin needs to stay here,” Soren said. “We can't take her into a bloody enemy garrison.”
“Yes, leave the girl here,” Marcus purred. “I’d love a bit of company and you lot are a little too… brawny for my tastes.”
“Pippin—” Brom started to say.
“That sentence better end with ‘decides her own fate’, or I’ll take Marcus up on his generous offer to show me the sights of the dockland pubs,” I replied firmly.
“When did I offer…? Oh.”
Marcus grinned wickedly at me, then offered me his arm. I glided over and placed a hand on it to push my message home, and was rewarded by the sounds of my men’s growls as well as the muscular flex of Marcus’ arm under my grip. Apparently thieving worked a man hard. Of course, Marcus had to over-egg the custard and slide his arm around my waist, tucking me into his side.
Glimmer snickered inside my mind. Taunting your mates? You are more dragon than you think.
“Pippin should be with us, always.” Flynn’s words came out in a rush as his patience broke. He stormed over to pull me from Marcus' grip and over to where the rest of them stood. “We’ve always fought best together.” He glanced at the garrison gate. “We do the same now.”
“Stay close,” Brom instructed me seriously. “No wandering off or any hare-brained schemes.” I snorted at that. “We stay together. Now, we need to come up with a pretext for why we want access to the garrison at this hour, especially with Pippin dressed as she is and with a dragon in tow.”
We discussed possible ideas as we walked up to the gate but, as we bickered over which one was the best, a familiar sound stopped us dead. My skirts were swept hither and thither by the massive gusts of wing that marked the approach of a dragon, then Darkspire landed on the road beside us.
“Draven.” Did Brom realise there was a small note of longing in his voice when he murmured the prince’s name; that it was always there? Perhaps I was the only one to hear it because I knew what to look for. But then, I also felt something similar, a wrenching inside me, as I watched Draven drop down from ‘Spire’s saddle, his casual elegance all the more devastating now. Because I knew exactly what kinds of pleasures that body could pull from mine. My husband recovered himself quickly. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same.”
Whatever else the prince might have been about to say was paused as his gaze roamed over me. Those ice-blue eyes took in every inch of my dress and the body within it. Was there a thawing of his gaze or was I simply imagining it? No, there it was, that intense heat he’d lavished upon me only days ago. Rather than melt beneath it, as I had then, I straightened up, staring him down. In my mind I demanded answers, so many bloody answers, but my lips remained resolutely sealed. Draven frowned slightly, then met Brom’s gaze.
“An anonymous tipoff told me that the lads have been moved here. They’re not in the bloody castle, I know that for certain. I’ve become more acquainted with the dungeons than I would’ve thought possible.” He glanced up at the gates. “Somewhere like this makes sense. Far away enough that I wouldn’t find them, close enough that the cadets can be produced and used as an incentive to ensure my compliance.”
“And filled with Harlstonians. Always convenient,” Flynn snapped.
“What?” That was genuine surprise on Draven’s face, but before he could interrogate that further, a voice called out from a platform near the top of the wall.
“Who goes there?”
“Your prince,” was Draven’s dry reply, which was met with a series of excited mutterings. The gates opened moments later, flush-faced soldiers ushering us in.
“Your Highness.” One of the men attempted a bow but it was poorly executed, the other just gaped.
“Highness, I’ll get the garrison commander,” the man babbled.
“No, that won’t be—” Before Draven could stop him, the soldier ran off to do just that. The muscle in his jaw tightened but he ushered us all inside the gates. Several men hurriedly appeared, their leader a tall, solid man with the bearing of a warrior and the insignia of a commander. They all bowed low to the prince as Draven watched impassively.
“My prince,” the commander said. “To what do we owe this honour at this hour?”
The wing and I all drew in a breath, preparing to deliver the various excuses we’d concocted, but Draven cut through all of it.
“I don’t need to explain my reasoning to you. My riders and I need access to the garrison.”
“And you shall have it,” the commander stammered out. “But I must warn you, Highness, the place is in disarray. We’ve had a complete turnover of personnel.”
“Really?” Draven walked up the gravel path to a square building: the garrison itself. “That is passing strange. It’s army policy to only rotate units of men from one garrison to the next, not move all of them at once.”
“Ahh…” I could see the commander quickly looking at the rest of us, looking slightly relieved that at least one Harlstonian was present when he noted Brom. However, any peace of mind he may have gained was lost when he saw Flynn. He had to know that he was the son of the Duke of Skane. “We had some morale issues and high command ordered a complete shake up?—”
“I’ve not heard word of that,” Draven continued.
“Perhaps the queen wanted to spare you the boring details of such a small decision.”
“The queen?” Draven paused where he was, turning to stare the man down and catching the moment the commander realised his mistake. “Surely you mean my father, the king. I love my mother dearly,”—Did he though?— “but a military commander she is not.”
“Of course, of course,” the commander babbled. “I misspoke.”
Draven continued his interrogation of the man as we continued, right up to the doorway of the garrison proper. I halted, in order to fall back with the others, but he reached out and took my arm in his under the guise of helping me over the small step at the doorway.
I was about to snap something about being perfectly capable of traversing such an obstacle myself, but the feel of the prince’s body against mine stopped me. I paused mid-step, giving credence to his offer of help. The others with us were left to look on as I looked up into his eyes.
I wish I could read his mind. What was supposed to be my private thought was broadcast to my dragon and Glimmer chuckled.
You don’t need to. You know.
That certainty in her voice, the way Draven’s eyes dropped down to my lips and stayed there, added together to ensure that the atmosphere like it could be cut with a knife.
And I would be the one to wield it.
I pulled my eyes away from the prince’s and met the commander’s confused gaze.
“I’m sorry, but could you point me to the privy?” My hand slid down to my stomach and the eyes of every man there followed it. “I’ve had too much wine to drink tonight.”
“Of course,” the commander said, obviously feeling like he was on more solid ground with more mundane and practical matters. “I’ll have someone?—”
“I know where to go,” Ged said, stepping forward. “I’ll show Pippin.”