‘Oh. Then we are three kings, not four.’ Jehal put on his disappointed face. ‘And I had so looked forward to comparing sisters with you, Lord Hyrkallan. Lystra turned out to be quite a surprise when it came to our conjugal duties. Quite enthusiastic, if a little crude. I wondered whether her big sister had similar appetites. Or perhaps some different hidden desires. She strikes me as the sort, after all.’ He watched as Hyrkallan’s face turned storm- cloud purple. It’s always so easy with your type. ‘Queen Lystra and Queen Jaslyn are very close, after all. I heard a rumour from my eyrie-master that they might be’ – he pursed his lips – ‘very close indeed. Perhaps, if an alliance is to be agreed between our realms, we might seal it in a very particular way.’ He glanced at Sirion. ‘Hyram acquired some very large beds in his time as speaker. I’d been wondering what to do with them.’
He didn’t get any further. Hyrkallan let out a roar and lunged. Jehal tried to dance out of reach but his injured leg betrayed him and buckled. He staggered and then fell back. The bridge twisted, rolling him to one edge until it caught him with its ropes. Hyrkallan had his sword out by now, every intention of using it, and neither Sirion or Queen Almiri showed any sign of stopping him. In fact, if anything, they looked positively pleased. A cripple baiting an armoured knight? I really need to have words with my mouth. Jehal closed his eyes, but the blow never came. Instead, he heard steel clash on steel. When he opened his eyes again, Vale was standing over him. He had Hyrkallan’s blade caught on his own. The Night Watchman was shaking his head.
‘I cannot allow that, My Lord.’
‘You cannot deny the realms would be better for it,’ growled Hyrkallan through gritted teeth.
Vale didn’t move. ‘I cannot allow that, My Lord,’ he said again. He spoke slowly and carefully. Jehal took a deep breath and muttered a prayer to thank whatever ancestors had made the Night Watchman so blindly committed to his duty.
‘Night Watchman, Lord Hyrkallan has raised a blade against the speaker,’ he gasped when he’d recovered enough composure to speak. ‘I believe that makes his life forfeit, does it not?’
‘No injury has been done,’ snapped Vale.
Jehal snorted. ‘I am flat on my back. I have bruises from my fall.’ Ah well. Not as blindly committed as you could be then.
‘You fell because you are a cripple.’
And whose fault is that? Fury helped Jehal find the strength to get back to his feet. ‘His intent was clear, Night Watchman.’ He could see Hyrkallan’s blood was up. The fool actually wanted to fight. With a bit of luck Vale would have to kill him if it came to blows. ‘See his face. He thinks he can beat you.’
‘No.’ Jeiros. ‘There will be no fighting here.’
Hyrkallan sneered. ‘Hyram named you Viper, but I am reminded more of our desert lizards whose bite is slow poison. They strike and then they must cower and hide for days as they track their prey to its death.’ He leaned a little closer.
Vale didn’t budge. ‘Where there is a crown there must be someone to wear it, My Lord. We can all think what we wish of King Jehal, but until a council of kings decrees otherwise, or until Speaker Zafir returns from the dead, he wears that crown. It is the crown I am sworn to defend, not whoever may wear it.’
Until Speaker Zafir returns from the dead… That was why Jeiros was being so secretive. He doesn’t want Vale to know! Oh my! How delicious!
Jehal’s head was spinning. For some reason, he had an ally. Why Jeiros was helping him was another matter entirely. He spat on the bridge in front of Hyrkallan’s feet. ‘Shall we have our dragons roar and shriek at each other until we are deaf as well as stupid, or are we done with waving swords and threats? If we are, then perhaps we should get on with what we all came here to do. Otherwise…’ He turned to face King Sirion. ‘You have been quiet, Your Holiness. Do you have anything you wish to add? I will be quite pleased to stand on this bridge and trade insults with anyone who cares to play for as long as you wish. I imagine I will quite enjoy it.’
‘Enough!’ Jeiros banged his staff on the bridge. Jehal froze, mid-thought. Even Hyrkallan flinched, if only with surprise because the alchemist usually spoke so quietly. Only Vale seemed unmoved.
Jeiros stood between Vale and Hyrkallan. Gingerly, he pushed both of their swords away. ‘I have words for you all. You will all listen to me now, because I am the Master of the Order of the Scales. We are the ones who tame your dragons. We are the ones who make them and we are the ones who, if we wish, can break them. What are you, any of you, My Lords, without your dragons?’ He looked at Jehal ‘What becomes of you, Your Holiness? What do you become without your dragons? Nothing.’ He spun to face Hyrkallan and Sirion before Jehal could answer. ‘What of you, my noble kings? How long will you rule with no dragons at your backs? There are rogue dragons loose in the realms again. My order lies crippled at their talons already. And all you can do is war among yourselves. Madness! You will doom us all. And so you will stop.’
Sirion snorted. ‘One rogue, barely even full grown, if she’s even still alive…’
‘One?’ Jeiros almost screamed in his face. ‘One rogue dragon, is it? I shudder at where Zafir has brought us. One became four more than two months ago, Sirion! You would know this if you ever attended council, even what passed for council under Zafir! Six weeks have passed since King Jehal broke the Red Riders, yet they were not completely destroyed. Where are the ones who survived?’ He pointed at Queen Almiri. ‘Did they return to you, Your Holiness, you whose greed for power and lust for revenge succoured them?’ He whirled towards Jehal. ‘Or you. Do you have them in your care, after betraying your lover and your speaker at Evenspire?’ Now Hyrkallan. ‘Does Queen Jaslyn have them in her eyries, the mad queen who awakens dragons for fun? Must I remind you of how the Syuss fell? You are all kings and queens. We have told you all there is to know of dragons. Yet you do not listen.’ He growled. ‘So I will tell you this: you will find a way to make a peace between you. There will be no more war. If you cannot do this, I will kill your dragons. All of them.’
Behind his own dull outrage at such an idea, Jehal amused himself watching Hyrkallan’s face. He almost choked. Sirion wasn’t any less shocked.
‘You will do no such thing,’ growled Sirion.
‘I can and I will, Your Holiness, if I am given no choice. And if the alternative is for dragons to awaken across the realms, you will all help me, and willingly too unless you are fools.’
‘They don’t look very willing.’ Jehal smirked.
‘Would you rather lose half your dragons or lose them all and everything else as well?’ Jeiros shrugged. ‘None of you are that blind.’
‘The duty of your order is to tame these dragons, alchemist,’ snapped Almiri.
‘No. The duty of my order is to preserve the realms. If I must slay dragons, that is what I will do.’
‘No!’
‘Yes,’ said Vale very softly. ‘Your Holinesses, if Jeiros commands it done and you do not obey, I will send my men by stealth into your eyries. We may not understand potions, but we will bring hammers and we will smash every egg you own and any who stand in our way.’
Jeiros shook his head in frustration. ‘Enough, Night Watchman! Enough threats.’ He turned back to Sirion and Hyrkallan. ‘The damage done by the white rogue was bad enough. The Order lost many alchemists and much more besides. The caves where we make our potions were damaged by the smoke from their fires. We can barely make enough; our considerable stockpile was completely destroyed, and now from every eyrie in the realms my alchemists complain that they are slowly running out. Weeks of it were destroyed by the Red Riders. More was destroyed at Evenspire.’ He shook his head. ‘I thought we were finished with this madness, but now King Valmeyan has come out of the mountains and taken the Pinnacles. It must stop and it must stop now.’ The glint of murder in Hyrkallan’s face was a delight, but Jeiros met it with steel of his own. ‘Do what you will, but the order is already given. There will be no more sent to any of your eyries until this ends.’
Beside him, Vale grinned. ‘There’s always hammers,’ he said.
Jehal looked from one face to the next to the next. Almiri showed only outrage and violence. Hyrkallan’s jaw was set tight. Sirion’s face was pinched. Jehal smiled at them. ‘As speaker,’ he said with careful slowness, ‘I will agree to whatever our grand master suggests. If you will do so too.’
‘And who-’ Hyrkallan started to take a step forward, but Sirion put a hand on his shoulder.
‘You have given us a lot to think about, Grand Master – dragons roaming free, the Mountain King out from his crags. Does Valmeyan know you plan to murder his dragons? Does he acquiesce to this? I see from your face the answer is no. So. Here is what I will offer you. We have been here for three days and a fourth won’t trouble us. We will retire to consider what you’ve said. Go back to your palace. Return in two days. You will have our answer then.’ He looked at Jehal. ‘Since you call yourself speaker, you can act like one. Send this word to the other realms and call them to council. We will see this matter to its end.’
