Greenharbour will be under siege within a matter of hours. Damin doesn't have the troops to hold out for long, even with the other Warlords on his side. Their armies are scattered all over Hythria.”
“I hope you don't expect Hablet to help. He's being very uncooperative. He ordered me out of Fardohnya, actually.”
“Did you try reasoning with him?”
“One doesn't use the words 'reason' and 'Hablet' in the same breath. Not when it comes to the Harshini. Or the delicate matter of his heir. Which reminds me, did you know that if he doesn't get a legitimate son, the Fardohnyan throne falls to Damin?”
She nodded. “Princess Marla told me.”
“How did Adrina take the news?”
“As you'd expect.”
Brak frowned. “And you left them alone in Hythria?”
“That was the one good thing to come out of all this. Damin and Adrina have finally worked out what everyone else has known for months. Sometimes humans don't know what they've got until they've almost lost it.”
He smiled. “That sounds very Harshini, R'shiel.”
She rolled her eyes but did not deny the accusation.
“So, what do you want to do about Hablet?”
“Well, if reason won't work, perhaps a show of force will.”
“I don't like the sound of this.”
“Brak, I need Hablet's army to set sail for Greenharbour within the week. And I need them to go to Damin's aid, not use it as an excuse to invade Hythria. If Hablet won't listen to reason, then I'll scare him into it, but either way, I have to stop the civil war in Hythria before it gets out of hand.”
“Why?”
She did not answer immediately.
“R'shiel? Your silence is scaring me. Just exactly what are you cooking up in that devious little mind of yours?”
She fidgeted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. “I don't intend to let Zegarnald - or any other god - profit from my mistakes.”
Brak was silent for a moment. “Zegarnald wants you to destroy Xaphista, R'shiel. Aren't you overstepping yourself just a tad?”
“Zegarnald wanted me 'tempered', remember?” she reminded him bitterly. “Well, he's only got himself to blame if he forged a two-edged sword.”
Shaking his head, Brak stood up and held out his hand to her. “One day, when we get the time, along with respect for the demons, I think I need to teach you the concept of leaving well enough alone.”
R'shiel and Brak made no attempt to conceal their presence as they flew towards Talabar. Brak rode his metallic green dragon, which Lady Elanymire and her brethren had formed at his request, while R'shiel rode beside him on Dranymire's golden meld. They made an impressive sight swooping down over the city - two creatures from legend and their Harshini dragon riders flying out of the sun to land in the courtyard of the Summer Palace. By the time they had scattered the startled palace guards and the dragons settled to the ground, the city was in an uproar.
R'shiel climbed down from Dranymire, pleased to discover the short ride had left her capable of walking. “I hope Hablet is in. We're going to look pretty damned foolish making such an impressive entrance if he's not home.”
“He's home,” Brak assured her, pointing to flags flying proudly over the main entrance to the palace. A tubby, bald-headed man in gloriously expensive silks hurried towards them. His expression was caught somewhere between shock and outrage.
“What is the meaning of this?” he screeched, panting heavily as he tried to block their path. “You can't enter the palace like this! Who are you? What do you want?”
“Who is this, Brak?” she asked. Both were drawing on their power and their eyes burned black. Although the courtyard was full of guards, the dragons kept any potential trouble at bay, simply by being dragons.
“Lector Turon, Your Highness, King Hablet's Chamberlain,” Brak replied in a superior tone.
Brak was quite an actor when the occasion called for it, R'shiel thought. She bit back a grin at his manner and turned her ebony eyes on the eunuch. “You will take me to the King.”
“The King cannot be disturbed!”
“Come, Lord Brakandaran,” she declared dramatically. “This underling is of no use to us. We shall find the King ourselves.”
She pushed Lector Turon out of the way and began walking across the paved courtyard with Brak at her side. Lector scurried past them, yelling at the top of his voice.
“Bar the doors! Shut them! Quickly! Protect your King!”
The guards were quick to respond. The doors boomed shut before R'shiel and Brak reached the steps and shook as the locking bar was dropped into place.
“He's an annoying little toad, isn't he?”
“Immensely,” Brak agreed. “What are you going to do about the doors?”
“What doors?”
She kept walking as the massive, bronze-plated doors blew outward off their hinges. Everyone but Brak and R'shiel dived for cover.
“Impressive.”
“Actually, I wasn't sure that would work,” she admitted, in a voice meant only for Brak. “Shall we go and find the King?”
“You're enjoying this, aren't you?”
“Aren't
He allowed a small smile to flicker over his lips, before he turned back to stare at what was left of the entrance to Hablet's Summer Palace. “I hate to admit it, but yes, I am enjoying it.”
“Good. I like to see people happy in their work.”
He followed her up the steps to the entrance, stepping over the debris from the explosion. The dazed guards made no attempt to stop them as they strode past.
R'shiel glanced around, wondering where Hablet would be hiding - if he
Courtiers, slaves and guards stepped out of their path as they strode through the palace. When they reached the throne room, R'shiel resisted the temptation to blast those doors off their hinges, too. She settled for blowing them open, instead. The long narrow hall was crowded with people clinging to each other fearfully, their silks and jewels quivering as they stared aghast at the sight of two black-eyed and obviously annoyed Harshini striding through their midst.
They stopped several paces from the foot of the raised dais where Hablet sat, clutching the gilt arms of his throne with white-knuckled terror. It was the only outward sign of his fear. His expression was one of carefully contrived contempt, rather than dread.
“Who are you?”
“I am the demon child.”
“Well, I don't care who you are, young lady, you'll pay for the damage to my palace.” He turned his royal gaze on Brak with a frown. “I thought I told you to leave Fardohnya?”
“I answer to a higher power than you, Your Majesty.”
“Well, I don't!” the King declared petulantly. He reminded R'shiel of Adrina when she was in high dudgeon.
“You will answer to the gods, Hablet,” R'shiel warned, sincerely hoping she would not have to involve them.
