The Dragon Rises Read online

  “You are my ally, Lord Tinian.” Luca bent his head. “Shall we defeat our common enemy together and build a more prosperous world?”

  Lord Tinian stared hard at the map. Then he raised his head and regarded each person in the room, and his smile turned bitter.

  “You, like your father, seek to offer friendship with words, and yet you will favour Estala.” He shook his head. “You will put my ships in danger. You will renege on your promises in time. Even when you hold your throne only by virtue of the Gold Council, you cannot let go of your pride enough to allow us our due.”

  Luca waited quietly. He seemed to know that there was no value in combatting these words now.

  Lord Tinian stood. “Xantos will be repaid, Prince Luca. Trade will resume at once. But if you wish to defeat your brother without taking into account the wishes of the Gold Council, then you will do it without their troops. The ships have been made ready, and they will sail at once—with Prince Alberto.”

  Serena gasped, and Luca stood.

  “He is already aboard,” Lord Tinian said smoothly. “And the order has been given to sail.”

  Luca snapped, “Should harm come to him—”

  “We are not savages,” Lord Tinian said. “As long as Estala remains a true friend to Xantos, no harm will come to Alberto.”

  He left, and in the silence, Luca sank his head into his hands.

  “We will get him back,” Serena said urgently.

  “Your Highness, we will draw up new plans at once,” Lord Rokkan agreed.

  “Lord Tinian—” Brother Axil began.

  “Out.” Luca raised his head. They all stopped, uncertain, and he looked at them angrily now. “I said out. I want to be alone.”

  “Luca,” Reva began.

  “Out!” Luca’s voice cracked on the word. “All of you!”

  The guards moved to surround his chair, and he shoved it away from the table and strode into his chambers. The door slammed behind him, and Serena stared at the others. Luca had, at last, become the king they had hoped for.

  And it had cost him everything.

  Reva

  Reva paced in the council chambers for the better part of two hours until she broke and made her way to Luca’s door. The guards stared at her as she lifted her hand, hesitated, and knocked.

  There was no answer.

  She waited, but Luca said nothing, and the door did not open. Reva looked at the two guards in exasperation.

  “You know I mean him no harm. Will you let me in?”

  They looked at one another uncertainly before, one of them nodded to the other and they stood aside and lifted their pikes. Reva opened the door and went in, closing the door behind her before she realised there were no candles lit and the shades were drawn.

  She stood in the darkness and wished she had brought some light to see by, only for a flare of orange to make her gasp and bite back a scream. For a moment, the light illuminated Luca’s face. He was staring at her with an unreadable expression. Then the ball of flame flickered out and he sighed.

  “What do you want?”

  “I do not want anything.” Reva stayed where she was for a few moments, hands pressed against the door. Then she sighed and walked closer. “Luca, I cannot imagine what it has been like for you.”

  “You mean trying and failing in full view of everyone?” His voice was bitter. “Yes, it has been unpleasant.”

  “Yes,” Reva said. She did not particularly feel like disagreeing with him. “I imagine that what you are feeling right now is what every other king has felt, though. You have to make a choice, and a lot of people will think you failed, no matter what you choose. That is what it is like to be king.”

  He looked up at her then. “Reva, we need allies. We needed Tinian’s men.”

  “Stefan’s army, if he has one, is scattered and without provisions.” Reva went to sit with him. He had not asked her to do so, but she was not going to stand on ceremony right now. “He is a dragon, Luca. He is not invincible. The Sisters were able to capture me with only an iron whip. You can defeat him.”

  “How?” Luca asked her hopelessly. He gave a despairing sort of laugh. “Reva, the people believe he is a god. He has managed to hide an army somewhere. He has Menti powers far beyond my own, and if Josef cannot train me before he gets here, cannot figure out the runes—”

  “That is ridiculous,” Reva said flatly. “Josef may be teaching you, but you are the one learning. The runes do nothing.”

  “Do you know everything about magic?” Luca was angry now. “Say what you will, Josef is helping me. As you did, drawing up those plans. As Serena did, trying to get medicine for the people. I need all of you.”

  Reva decided to let that go for the moment. “I understand.”

  “And I needed Tinian,” Luca said. “He was right. If I could only have put away my pride long enough to defeat Stefan….”

  “Luca.” Reva reached out to take his hand. “Everything you said in that meeting was true. Estala is not a part of Xantos, and you do not mean to cheat Tinian or beggar the Gold Council. What you want is two prosperous realms and a peaceful world. He said he wanted that as well, but his actions were not showing it. He was lying to you.”

  “Does it matter?” Luca’s eyes were red-rimmed. “We have to defeat Stefan. It does not matter if I sit on the throne, or Serena does, or Tinian does. All that matters is that Stefan is a murderer and a terrible king, and he cannot be allowed to rule. I may have doomed us.”

  “You have not doomed us.” Reva smiled. “You said you needed all of us. We are all here and ready to fight with you. We have resources at our disposal that Stefan could never dream of. We will have Menti in our army, and while Stefan only has followers because of lies—and to feed his own ego—you have them because you are a kind king. Right now, the damage that Stefan has done, that the plague has done, is still rippling through the realm. You are doing all the right things. You simply cannot see it yet.”

  Luca stared at her for a long moment, then he got up to pace. His shirt was plastered to his chest with sweat. He had been practicing his magic all this time, Reva guessed. He was exhausting himself, driving himself to distraction and failure.

  “We lost two of our dragons,” he said. “Not just Tinian, not just Alberto—ah, God.” He squeezed his eyes shut.

  “We will get Alberto back,” Reva said urgently. Serena and Rokkan had been drawing up diplomatic briefs and appeals to the members of the Gold Council. Alberto’s abduction would be treated with careful diplomacy—and a countermission by Rokkan’s soldiers, if necessary. “Luca, we are not going to let Tinian keep Alberto.”

  Luca laughed wildly. “He is safer there than here, at least.”

  “Luca….”

  “And meanwhile, we have lost our other dragons.” He had already moved on.

  Reva clasped her hands in her lap. “Yes,” she said.

  “You could not convince them to stay?”

  “They may be back soon.” She should have argued with them, she thought now. In the battle that was coming, all of them should be united against Stefan. “They went to find the last dragon.”

  Luca shook his head. “I should not have expected them to stay. Not after what happened to you. I could not keep my own citizens safe in Reyalon. Of course they left. I am not sure why you stay.”

  “Because I want to.” That, at least, she knew the answer to. “I am proud to serve Estala with you, Luca. I know it was not your choice, but you are making the best of it. You are leading us in the right direction.”

  “No.” Luca shook his head. “Do you know what Matias once told me about battle? He said there was no honour in it. He fought at my father’s bidding, but he did not respect war. He was a loyal son, but he confided in me that when he ruled, he would never lead the nation to war. When Stefan led his forces against us, and then again when we took Reyalon, I saw how right Matias was. Reva, anything I can do to prevent war is something I must do.”

  Reva n
odded cautiously. His words seemed sound, much like the sort of speech she would applaud if Luca had given it at an official event. Still, she could not help feeling that she was not going to like where all of this was going.

  He ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath. “Reva, the whole time I have been sitting here, I have been thinking of assassinating Stefan alone.”

  “Luca!”

  His jaw set. “We want to defeat him in battle. Have you thought about what will happen then? If we kill him on the battlefield, how is that different from an assassination—except that more people will die? If we bring him back here, what then? I cannot ever set him free. Do I execute him? That’s assassination by another name. And he will never give up his claim to the throne.”

  Reva bit her lip. She did not know what to say to this.

  “Reva, I cannot let the army march.”

  “You said it was a good plan!” This was driving her mad.

  “Your plan included the ships,” he pointed out.

  “So, we will draw up a new plan—”

  “No. Tinian leaving was a sign. A sign that I have been right all along. I need to defeat Stefan myself. My allies must help me do that,” he told her firmly. “I will not let the people of Estala suffer more than they have already. I will not let another generation of children grow up without fathers because I followed in my father’s footsteps. Will you help me?”

  “Of course. Always.” She found a sudden flare of courage within herself. “You and I can go now. I will carry you on my back, and we will fly to Stefan.”

  The smile he gave her brought tears to her eyes as he came to draw her to her feet. He cupped her cheek with one hand and leaned his forehead against hers. To her surprise, Reva felt herself relax into his touch.

  “I never stopped loving you,” Luca said. “Never. Of all people, Reva, I cannot let you be in danger in order to stop Stefan.”

  “But—”

  “I need something to fight for.” His voice was shaking. “Something to preserve. Please, Reva. I need that.”

  Reva hesitated, then nodded.

  “Whatever I must do to keep you safe—to keep all of you safe—I will do it.” Luca shook his head. “I must think about this. There are ways to do this, and I must have the courage to take whatever option fate gives me.”

  Reva smiled at him tentatively. “You will,” she promised him.

  He nodded and dropped into his chair. “Could I be alone?” he asked. “I need to think.”

  “Of course.” Reva went to the door. She looked over her shoulder as she opened it. “Luca, call on me if you need me.”

  He nodded, and she left with a smile for the guards.

  “Is His Majesty feeling better?” one of them asked her.

  Reva hesitated. “I do not know,” she said finally. “I think so. He is determined to do whatever he must to protect the people.”

  The guard nodded, clearly pleased. “That is good.”

  “Yes,” Reva said. “Yes, it is. It is good.” For some reason, though, she could not bring herself to believe it.

  The Lord

  The Lord surveyed the troops with an air of detachment. Recovered from the countryside, they were milling about near the shore. In the distance, the walls of Reyalon could be seen. Nesra’s Keep gleamed in the sun.

  Soon, the Lord thought distractedly.

  “My Lord.” Mikkel bowed his head as he approached. “Will you address the troops?”

  The Lord clenched his hands. He did not want to do anything so pedestrian. By now, surely, they had received enough encouragement. They should be eager to go do his bidding, fight his enemies, be there for the first of his conquests.

  “Something is troubling you,” Mikkel said. He flinched away from the glower the Lord gave him. “My Lord, I apologise. I spoke out of turn.”

  “Yes,” the Lord said. “You did. Yet you are correct. The Ulezi failed me.”

  “They failed?” Mikkel said. “They are dead, then?”

  “No. They are back on the hunt, returning to Reyalon to fix their mistakes.” The Lord took a breath to steady himself.

  “Then all will be well.”

  “Do you not understand? Did you not realise what you told me when you spoke of the soldiers being sent to scour the countryside? The dragon the Ulezi captured was the Lady Avalon. The other, I cannot begin to guess. But they will get no more chances. She will be locked up tight.”

  Mikkel considered this. “Her parents were murdered by Menti, they said. I knew she had a rebellious spirit, but given her history, I never considered that she might be such an abomination.”

  You are speaking of my mate. The Lord did not say that out loud. Mikkel would not understand why the Lord sought the copper dragon. He would not tolerate any other Menti. Yes, Mikkel would have to die. There was simply no other option. The Lord would ensure that it happened gloriously in battle, and that would be that.

  Perhaps the coming battle. That might work. Once he had a base of operations, what more would he need Mikkel for, after all?

  The Lord smiled.

  “The Ulezi are relentless,” Mikkel told him. “We will need to deal with them at some point, but until then, let them run free, and they will destroy the other dragons. It does not matter how safely Lady Avalon is locked away. There is no keeping them from her now that they know who she is.”

  The Lord considered this and nodded. “Very well. I will address the troops now.”

  “Yes, Lord.”

  The Lord climbed up to the makeshift dais they had made for him and lifted his hand. He was gratified to see that they fell silent immediately and turned to face him. These were soldiers, yes, but not mercenaries. These were the men who had enlisted during Stefan’s reign, and some others of longer tenure who had understood which king to follow.

  Power coursed through the Lord’s veins at their attentiveness. He should remember this, he thought. The speeches were a tiresome necessity, but they also fed him and spread his renown.

  “Today, the false kings begin to fall,” he told them. “My empire will soon stretch to cover all the world. Blood and conquest will be our life for the next years. Though they are rotten to the core, they will fight.”

  There was a silence. The soldiers exchanged glances.

  “You have been given the chance to serve me,” the Lord said. He frowned out at the crowd, knowing they could not see his expression behind the mask. “Of all who are here, your sacrifice will be the greatest. This pleases me.”

  Again, they did not cheer.

  They should be cheering. Did mortals not long to serve their gods? What did mortals desire, if not that? Cautiously, the Lord allowed the mortal soul in his body to surface. What did it want?

  Power. Luxury. Recognition.

  Not so different from gods, then. How curious.

  “Our enemy eats from gold plates,” the Lord told his soldiers. “They feast on venison and drink the finest wines. Have any of you ever had such things?”

  Now they shook their heads and frowned deeply.

  “You will,” the Lord told them. Ah, yes, they were smiling now. “All that belongs to the false kings will be yours. You have been with me from the beginning. As you have sacrificed most, you will be raised up the highest and see the greatest rewards.”

  They began to cheer, and the Lord drank it in. This was what they wanted. They wanted to be kings, all of them. It was ridiculous, but if that was what they wanted to hear, then that was what he would say. Most of them would not survive the next few years, in any case. What was the harm?

  “Our enemy will fight,” the Lord told them. “They will struggle to keep what they have captured, what should be yours.”

  “What should be yours!” someone called from the crowd. Others echoed his call. Now that they had been promised riches, they were once more ready to fight for the Lord’s cause.

  Inspiration came to him in a flash, and the Lord spread his hands. “I am your rightful ruler,
it is true. But what use does a god have for gold plates and fine foods? I need only your loyalty, only your worship. The riches are for you, the most faithful of my followers.”

  They loved that. They stamped and cheered.

  “So, fight!” the Lord called to them. “Fight these usurpers. Fight those who give their loyalty where they should not. They all have had the chance to see the truth, but they deny it. They deserve no mercy. Take what they have claimed, because it is rightfully yours. And give me the thrones of all nations.”

  The roar of the crowd was deafening. They hoisted their weapons into the air, chanting Anios! Anios! Anios!

  The Lord let his head drop back. For a moment, he could feel the glory of this mortal form. The breath was in his lungs. His heart beat strongly. And the hunger—ah, yes, the hunger—was no longer a shackle, but a desire that was as sweet as honey. To be mortal was to hunger always, and the Lord could feel the draw of it. The mortal soul inside this body sang in response to the thought. Oh, yes, it craved more—more wine, more power, more gold.

  The Lord shook his fist at the crowd once more before turning to Mikkel. “Do I have to ask?”

  “Of course not, my Lord.” Mikkel’s smile was sleek. “The sacrifice is waiting in the caves. The strongest of the warriors. Let us go now.”

  The Lord smiled as he strode along the seashore, wind whipping his cloak around his body. When they ducked into the darkness of the caves, he could smell worship and fear in equal measure.

  The body on the wooden framework before him was beaten and bloodied already. Weals ran across its back, and elaborate cuts had been made in the skin of its chest.

  “We found him here worshipping you,” Mikkel murmured.

  The Lord remembered that this morning, he had felt the touch of a particularly sweet and fervent prayer. He nodded, strolling closer. The man’s head was thrown back, and he was looking up at the ceiling of the cave as his chest jerked with shallow breaths. Corded muscles rippled along his arms and legs. Magnificent.