She turned Silence away from the battlefield and spiralled down. In the middle of the legions Speaker Hyram had his tower, where he and the dragon-kings and -queens who weren't participating in the mocks fights could stand and watch. Her mother was there, and Almiri too. Lystra had stayed in the south, slowly getting fat with Prince Jehal's heir. As she flew past, she searched the tower for Prince Tichane but she couldn't see if he was there. The thought of the Crag King's ambassador left a strange sensation inside her, one that she usually reserved for her dragons.
She pushed all that away, landed Silence at the foot of the tower and handed him over to the alchemists and Scales who'd set Up a makeshift eyrie around the tower. Then she bounded up the steps. out over the plains, most of the other dragons were circling now, waiting to come back, watching the few who were still sparring with the legions.
'You lost two of my riders,' said Shezira as soon as Jaslyn reached the top of the tower.
'Prince Lai's pattern of Autumn Leaves.' Speaker Hyram smiled at her. 'Ambitious. Difficult to execute properly.'
'Which you didn't,' added Shezira.
Jaslyn clenched her teeth. 'What do you mean?'
'Your timing was wrong. The knights behind you were too slow. The legion had time to adjust.' She shook her head. 'Don't feel too bad. Someone else tried the same pattern and made the same mess of it.'
'Prince Jehal.' Hyram spat out the name. 'Your execution of the pattern was better.'
Shezira shook her head. 'I disagree. They were both equally poor.'
Jaslyn looked around, taking in all the faces. There were two men she'd never met who were Speaker Hyram's cousins, and a cluster of advisers around him. Next to her mother, Knight-Marshal Nastria was staring out across the plains, seemingly oblivious. Behind her, King Tyan sat in a chair with his tongue hanging out, his head lolling and his eyes staring up at the sky, constantly quivering. She recognised a few others from Lystra's wedding too. Queen Fyon, who smiled at her while her eyes filled with daggers. And Valgar and Almiri, of course.
Almiri caught her arm. 'The signallers on the field flagged seven injured from your attack. Their shield wall wasn't quite perfect.'
'And Prince Jehal?'
'Four.'
For some reason that made everything better. 'It feels strange, burning men I don't know for no better reason than entertainment. I hope they weren't killed.'
'The signaller indicated injuries only.'
'Who's winning?' Jaslyn tried to sound like she didn't care.
Almiri laughed, 'Not you. Queen Zafir. Six dead, thirty injured.'
'What?'
'She lost all her five riders doing it. She charged them. On the ground.'
'She did what?'
'She put her five knights on their dragons on the ground, and they charged the legion as though they were cavalry. Ran straight into it. Scattered men everywhere. Broke their shield wall completely. Then she flew in behind and burned them. They got all the men on the ground but they didn't get her.'
'But that's cheating.'
'Not according to Speaker Hyram. He let it stand.'
Jaslyn clenched her fists and ground her teeth. 'There are traditions! No contact. No one would land their dragons to attack a real enemy. They'd be killed at once! They're not supposed to do that.'
'The riders who charged across the ground would all have been dead. Speaker Hyram has ruled that, since it was Queen Zafir's dragon who did all the damage, and since she escaped unscathed, the score stands.' Almiri put an arm around Jaslyn's shoulder and led her towards the far corner of the tower roof, away from twitching ears. 'If you want my advice, you don't say any-thing.'
'It's cheating,' Jaslyn hissed again.
Almiri forced her to sit down. 'It's only cheating if the speaker says so, and the speaker doesn't. When was the last time you saw Speaker Hyram? Before this, I mean.'
Jaslyn spat over the edge of the tower. 'On the way to Lystra's wedding. When mother practically invited someone to steal our white dragon.' She frowned. 'If Prince Jehal can get King Tyan onto the back of a dragon to come here, why can't he bring Lystra with him too? That's not fair.'
Almiri ignored her. 'Have you noticed anything about Speaker Hyram?'
'Not really.' Jaslyn shrugged.
'Have yon noticed that he's not shaking or stuttering any more?'
Jaslyn glanced back at the speaker. 'Oh. Did he use to?'
'Little sister, do you notice anything?' Almiri laughed. 'Speaker Hyram has been slowly dying for this last year. Alchemists' disease. Do you know what that is?'
Jaslyn shook her head.
'It's what King Tyan's got. Take a look at him.'
'I know he's sick.'
'It starts with trembling and shaking. Over the years you slowly lose all your capabilities. Eventually you probably die, but generally people either starve because they can't feed themselves any more, or else their family sends them quietly on their way. King Tyan has had this disease for nearly a decade.' Almiri shook herself. 'Anyway, what I'm trying to tell you is that Speaker Hyram has been sick, but now he's better, and it's Queen Zafir who found him the cure. There are quite a lot of other whispers about Speaker Hyram and Queen Zafir too, so if I were you, I wouldn't say anything to his face.'
Jaslyn sniffed. 'Cheating is still cheating.'
Almiri grabbed Jaslyn's arm and squeezed it hard. 'Listen to me, little sister. You do nothing to annoy the speaker. You say nothing about Queen Zafir. Do you understand?'
'Why?'
'Because mother will tear off your head if you do. She's nervous. I haven't seen her like this for a very long time. She thinks Hyram might change his mind about who's going to be the next speaker.'
'But he can't.'
Almiri's grip tightened until it started to hurt. 'Yes he can. He's the speaker.'
'We have a pact!'
'Which can easily be broken.'
'But…'
Almiri let go. Her mouth twitched with amusement. 'Little Jaslyn, these are kings and queens, not your dragons. They don't simply do what you tell them.'
41
Kings and Queens
Hyram put down his cup and stood up. He looked around the immense ten-sided table at the kings and queens, the knights, the lords, the master alchemists, the priests. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt to young, so strong, so powerful. His head buzzed with Zafir's potions. They left him on edge, hyperactive, almost priapic, but they made the shaking go away, and the stutter – that was what mattered. He wore the Speaker's Robe and held the Speaker's Spear, and the weapon's power coursed through him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so strong.
Around the table the masters and mistresses of the nine realms interrupted their feast and gave him their attention, one dragon-king or -queen on each side of the table. Beside him on his side of the table sat Sirion, the loyal cousin who had inherited his crown and throne when he, Hyram, had become the speaker. On the tenth side, opposite him, sat the grand master alchemists and the dragon-priests who would anoint his successor. As expected, one side of the table was almost empty: the King of the Crags hadn't deigned to join them. No surprises there.
