The Dragon Rises Read online

  “Of course, but—”

  “And you said we do not know why the medicine works, and that it is not enough to say ‘because the Enlightened God wills it,’” Nico pressed.

  Raphael was silent, and Serena fought to keep a straight face. She was somewhat enjoying seeing the Brother at a loss for words.

  “We cannot continue to think, ‘Oh, such a thing is heresy.’” Nico was fierce and uncompromising in his words. “We must try anything and everything we can. We must look at what people have noticed over the years and dismiss treatments based on their merits, not on our prejudices. The people need that from us.”

  “Yes, of course,” Brother Raphael said. “Anything we can do, we must do. Your reasoning is sound, Nico.”

  “We must use every tool at our disposal,” Nico said. “Even if it were, say, a Menti?”

  Brother Raphael pulled at a thread on his robes, his mouth set into a grim line, but he had been backed into a corner and he had to concede. He nodded.

  Nico did not press the argument, but, to Serena’s interest, he seemed to think he had scored a point. He walked in quiet silence for the rest of the meeting, radiating contentment, and when she looked back, she saw even Carolina regarding Nico with respect.

  Karine

  Lieutenant Gerras and the messenger relayed their message once more in the dining hall on the first night. They spoke to the prisoners with the Sisters and the guards in attendance so that no one might claim they did not know the king’s orders. Then they sent the guards and the Sisters away to allow the women to speak freely about conditions in the camp.

  At first, the women were hesitant. Karine realised they were waiting for her to take the lead, so she stood up and faced the two men. She told them about the way the women slept, still in chains. She told them that even the meagre amount of food the prisoners had been given for dinner was more than their usual daily ration. She told them about the threats to send the prisoners to the tower to become the guards’ entertainment.

  That last one was a risk. Karine knew that some military companies did not care if their soldiers abused the women they came across. However, she had seen the lieutenant’s face when he saw her and Lottie on the whipping post, and she made the gamble that he would act just as quickly and without fear of reprisal in this.

  He did. He leaned to the side and spoke quietly in a man’s ear, and the man went out of the hall. Karine and the others went back to their hally, but she could not help wondering what Gerras had said.

  The next day, all of the guards had been dismissed. Ellie told Karine how Sister Aurora had protested the decision.

  “Lieutenant Gerras just asked her why they needed the guards when they had his men now,” the younger girl reported. She had the beginnings of a mischievous smile on her face. “You should’ve seen her face! I’ll bet she thought they were all going home.”

  New beds were brought in for the women. Their chains were struck, and only one ankle cuff was left on. As the women were trained in the delicate work of making medicines, peasants were brought in from the surrounding areas and paid to work in the fields. The food was better now, and the women were allowed to sing and talk as they worked.

  Karine could not have said what it was that made her uneasy, but while the other women laughed and joked and enjoyed their newfound freedoms, she found herself growing more and more withdrawn.

  “What is it?” Lottie asked finally.

  “We’re still slaves,” Karine told her. “We still wear shackles, and there are still guards on the walls. We’re not free to go home to our families.”

  “Yes, but Prince Luca sees our worth,” Lottie argued. “Reva said he was kind, and he’s sent these people to make sure that we aren’t being killed.”

  “What about when the plague is over?” Karine asked her. “Do you really think they’ll let us out of here? Or do you think they’ll make us stay and keep working on whatever new use they find for us? And what if it’s worse?”

  Lottie twisted her hands together. “But what do we do? How would we get out?”

  “It would be easier,” Karine said, thinking it over. “Without the chains and all. But the soldiers….”

  She did not finish the sentence. It had been difficult enough to kill the guards at the last camp, the ones who had beat them and hurt them and threatened to do worse. These soldiers were not only far kinder, they were also far more disciplined. They did not lock the women inside and then all leave to have their dinner.

  “Reva would have a plan,” Karine said, frustrated.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Lottie told her. She reached out to lay her hand on Karine’s.

  Karine snatched her hand back. “It’s not going to be okay,” she said furiously. “Nothing’s better.”

  Lottie pushed herself up. “It’s easy for you to say that when you didn’t get whipped at all the other day,” she observed coolly. “The soldiers bandaged my wounds and have checked them to make sure I’m healing. The Sisters aren’t able to beat me anymore. Karine, it’s better.”

  She left without another word, and Karine stared after her. Things were better. She could not dispute that.

  She was still worried, however—and suddenly it seemed very clear what she needed to do. She stood up and brushed her skirts off, and on the next break that day, she went to find Lieutenant Gerras. He was speaking to a group of soldiers, but when he saw her, he nodded in recognition and came to speak with her.

  “How are you?” he asked her. “How is your friend? I heard her wounds are healing well.”

  “They are,” Karine assured him. She’s, ah…. Yes, they’re healing well.”

  “And you?” he pressed.

  She found her eyes tracing the lines of his face. His hair was dense and thick and wavy. It looked like it was difficult to control, and although he was clean-shaven, and she was sure he had shaved that morning, there was already a shadow on his cheeks. He had startling blue eyes, contrasted by his black hair. They were a darker blue, like the water in a deep lake.

  He swallowed as she studied him, and Karine diverted her focus down to her hands.

  “I’m well,” she said finally. What else could she say? That the Sisters now sometimes hissed to the girls that since the guards were gone and the soldiers were soft, the sisters would know how harsh to be if they ‘had to’ punish one of the girls? That the girls all knew Sister Aurora, in particular, longed to hurt them, and could no longer do so, and that her temper was like a pot ready to boil over?

  No, Karine could not say any of that.

  “Why did you come to—” Lieutenant Gerras began at the same time that Karine said, “I came to speak to you because—”

  They both broke off with an uncertain laugh, and the lieutenant nodded to Karine for her to speak. He was very courtly, she had learned. It was his example that the soldiers followed, and they seemed to respect him.

  “I am looking for my friend,” Karine said honestly. “One of the guards shot her with an arrow two weeks ago, and we haven’t seen her since. I want to know—” To her horror, her voice was thick, and she had to swallow just to keep speaking. “If she’s still alive,” she finished a bit breathlessly. “And if she is, I’d like to see her. Her name is Rohesa.”

  “We can find her now, if you like,” Lieutenant Gerras said at once. “I—that is—” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Perhaps I should not have promised you that. If she is not in a good way, it might be best if you did not see her.”

  Karine’s head came up at that. “I want to,” she said strongly. “I want to see her.”

  Lieutenant Gerras nodded. “Come with me, then,” he said. “We’ll go to the infirmary first. Hopefully, she is there.” He did not add that she might have been thrown into a cell, even in her poor condition.

  They walked together in the sunshine, and Karine marked the narrow-eyed stare of the Sisters on her. They did not like that Lieutenant Gerras was so polite to the workers. They thought he w
as soft on the women.

  In the infirmary, he motioned for Karine to hang back while he went to talk to the doctor. She looked around and suddenly spotted something that fit with her plan. She reached out to grab it and stuffed it into the pocket of her gown just before the lieutenant came back, looking grave.

  “Come this way,” he said by way of explanation.

  Rohesa lay in a small bed at the end of the infirmary. She looked very small, Karine thought in shock. Rohesa had been so tall and strong, always able to summon strength for her magic even when the rest of them were hardly able to stay on their feet. Now she was thin and pale. A bulky bandage was visible on her shoulder.

  “My doctor tells me that they found her in poor condition when they arrived,” Lieutenant Gerras explained. He spoke in a murmur, as if Rohesa was only sleeping and he did not want to wake her. “Her wound was infected—badly, I’m afraid. My doctor cleaned it, extracted the arrowhead, and has been tending to her. He says the wound is not infected anymore, but she was very weak, and it is difficult to tell….”

  His voice trailed off, and Karine knew he did not want to suggest that Rohesa might die.

  “Thank you,” she told him. She reached out to clasp his hand, and she met his eyes with a smile. There were tears in her eyes, but she truly was grateful. Seeing Rohesa, knowing how she was being kept, had been essential to Karine’s plan. “I want you to know I appreciate all you have done. We all do.”

  Lieutenant Gerras cleared his throat uncomfortably. She saw him trying to figure out what to say, and finally he ducked his head in a jerky nod. He was quite handsome. She allowed herself to notice that. It made her sad for some reason.

  “I should go back to work,” Karine said. “Thank you for letting me see my friend. You’ve put my mind at ease.”

  “I am glad,” he told her. He walked with her out of the infirmary and parted from her with a lingering nod, as if he wanted to speak but could not find words to say.

  She stared after him for a moment, and then went back to her work in the great hall, where she chopped leaves for the rest of the day without looking up or speaking with anyone. The only time she spoke that night was to tell Lottie that Rohesa was in good hands, and was healing as well as they could hope. Lottie nodded, her chin trembling, and Karine gave her a fierce hug. Both of them had been unwilling to accept how likely it was that Rohesa was simply dead. Now they could face that fear.

  “You see?” Lottie asked. “Things are better.”

  Karine nodded, but she did not speak. She left quickly, heading for the privies. There was a tiny storeroom nearby that she knew was often unused. She checked carefully to see if anyone was following her, and then ducked into the storeroom.

  Once there, she unrolled the bandage she had secreted inside her robe and wrapped it around her ankle, then began to work her foot determinedly. She wished they had left the shackle on her wrist instead, as that would have been easier to get off. At one point, she thought that her ankle was going to break as she dragged her foot through the shackle, but at last she was able to get the thing off. She studied it, panting slightly.

  She hid it behind one of the bales of used cloth and made her transformation. With a ripple, Lieutenant Gerras appeared, perfect in every detail she had carefully memorised earlier that day. She felt a pang of guilt at that and tried not to think about it. She had already spent more time than she should thinking about the lieutenant.

  When she emerged, she detoured back around the main building and first went up to the walls to look out over the fields. This was risky, but she needed them not to question her.

  One of the patrols came by, and one of the soldiers said, “Hello, sir.”

  Karine nodded and then gestured out into the fields. “Have you seen anything strange in the fields tonight?”

  “We haven’t, no, sir. Why?” They looked at one another.

  “I had word that some peasants nearby are selling olives that can only have come from these groves,” Karine explained. “I thought they might be sneaking back at night to pick them.”

  The soldiers nodded. “We could round up some people to go see, sir,” one of them offered.

  “A fine suggestion,” Karine said. “But you have all been working hard, and I would not add any more duties to your plate. I am going to go out now and see if anyone arrives. I will call for backup if I need it.”

  “Yes, sir.” The man looked uncertain. “Would you like your horse saddled?”

  She most certainly did not want them to do that. A horse would know at once that she was not Lieutenant Gerras, and warhorses were famously well-trained.

  “I think that might make too much noise,” Karine said after a moment spent considering the matter. “I will go on foot.” That sounded like him, she thought.

  They opened one of the small side gates for her, and she slipped out into the night with a murmur of thanks, as she had often heard the lieutenant give. She made sure to hug the trees tight, as though she were trying to avoid being seen by the people out in the groves, and walked in a half-crouch.

  It was a long time until she was sure the soldiers could not see her anymore, but when she judged the situation to be safe, she changed her path toward the trees that lined the road in the distance. By the time she reached the road, she would be too far away for them to see.

  Reva had said that Luca was a kind boy. Karine needed to find Reva and tell her to speak to the king. Failing that, she would need to approach Luca herself.

  The Gardens of Anios should not be changed.

  They should be destroyed.

  Luca

  Sweat was pouring into Luca’s eyes. He was exhausted, trembling with the effort of maintaining a ball of fire almost the size of his torso. It hissed and spun in his hands.

  “I…cannot….”

  “Maintain it, Prince Luca.” Josef’s voice was smooth and quiet, but there was steel underneath it. “Make it hotter.”

  Luca concentrated all his willpower on the fire. It was draining his strength, feeding off him. He was too weak. He remembered the long days of training in the Shadow Valley, of giving the last ounce of his strength, and then another after that. He had not recognised himself when he emerged from the Menti training camp. He had been taller, stronger. He had wielded a sword and shield without tiring.

  Perhaps it was the same with magic. He had been afraid to train with his magic for so long that he had missed the opportunity to become as much a Menti as he was a swordsman. He would likely be better with fire than he was in combat, in truth. Luca was not a natural fighter, but he had been born with his Menti powers.

  As he had in training, he gave the fire the last drops of his strength. Its colour brightened from a bright orange to a vibrant yellow, and Luca gave energy he had not known he had to make it shine paler still, almost white.

  For a moment, the fire hung in front of him, spinning fast now, and then it collapsed and sent Luca staggering back. He fell heavily to the floor and could not get up. Wonderingly, he traced the runes Josef had inscribed on the floor as the man came to give him a drink of wine.

  “Were you ever so powerful when you trained with your friends, Prince Luca?” He held out the wine. “Drink.”

  “Is there no water?” Luca’s voice rasped in his throat.

  “Plain water, in a king’s rooms?” Josef sounded amused. “You must learn to play the part, Prince Luca. Princes drink water and play with their friends. Their voices are not heard during council meetings. Kings drink wine, they wear crowns, they master their powers—and they are not disobeyed.”

  How did he know about the council meetings? Luca took the cup and sipped from it carefully as he had seen his father do. King Davead had favoured moderation in all things, except his war against the Menti, of course.

  He watched as Josef cleaned the runes from the floor. The man was methodical, so not one smear of chalk or charcoal was left when he was done.

  “I am done training for the day,” Luca said when
he put down the cup. He tried to imbue his voice with as much command as he could. “I have matters to attend to with the army. Return tomorrow to train me further.”

  “As you say.” Josef bowed, but Luca caught the gleam of approval in his eyes.

  Shortly after Josef left, Brother Axil stepped into Luca’s chambers, his expression stern.

  “I do not like you training with that man,” Axil said bluntly when the door was closed. “He is a charlatan. He is self-taught. Tell him to leave.”

  Are you giving me orders of what to do, as if I were a child? Luca bit back the words. “I have chosen to let Josef teach me,” he said instead. His tone said that this was not a matter for discussion. “He has already strengthened my powers beyond what I learned at the Menti camp.”

  “Prince Luca, at the Menti camp, you refused to train.” Frustration rang in Brother Axil’s voice. “Geraldo told me that you went to the ambassadors’ wing two days ago and trained with Joss. That was good. You will strengthen your powers that way.” In a different tone, he added, “And it would not do you harm to have friends now, Luca. It is lonely to wear a crown.”

  Luca’s face fell. It was lonely. His father’s rooms were too big and grand for him. He would have returned to his own, but he could not stop remembering the last time he had been there, when he had killed Matias. Every night, he intended to meet his brother and sisters for dinner. That, at least, was one thing his father had made an effort to do. But there always seemed to be an urgent matter requiring his attention.

  Still, his father had presided over a peaceful time, and Luca had a rival for the throne, one he could not defeat easily. Stefan had always wanted what other people had, Luca thought resentfully.

  “I am afraid I have bad news.” Brother Axil went to one of the windows with a sigh. He looked older, suddenly.