Dragon Dawn Read online

  “No...” she said slowly. “No. I want you to wait on that until after I have spoken with Verner. I want to know what they hope to gain by their betrayal before disposing of them. Continue to watch them and keep me informed.”

  “Yes, Matriarch.”

  “Continue,” Talitha said to Ishani.

  “As the Matriarch commands. The merchant has used his contacts to arrange meetings between important families and the soldiers, as the Chancellor said. He has great influence with them and has their respect. They listen when he speaks and do what he tells them to do.”

  “That is interesting,” Talitha said. “Verner calls himself a simple merchant yet he orders imperial soldiers. What is he really I wonder?”

  “A spy, Matriarch?” Ishani said, as if uncertain the question was aimed at her.

  “Assuredly,” Talitha said and smiled. “A spy yes, but what else? No mere watcher would have the influence you say Verner has.”

  The merchant waited for her outside. She would question him closely about what he knew of Marzina’s envoy. A man with influence, as it now appeared Verner was, would know such things.

  “What more?”

  Ishani shook her head slightly. “One thing more Matriarch. Verner was most upset when informed of your summons. He had planned to speak with Marzina’s envoy when he docked.”

  “Did he indeed,” Talitha’s eyes sharpened. “You will arrange to be present at the meeting.”

  Talitha held out her hand.

  Ishani gasped and scuttled forward to take it reverently in both of hers. “Matriarch…” she breathed. “I am yours.”

  Talitha smiled, of course she was. She leaned forward and whispered, “Verner must not suspect you or your sister. You are valuable to me where you are. Do nothing to jeopardise yourselves.”

  “We will be very careful.”

  “Good,” Talitha said and kissed the girl lightly on the lips. “Take my blessing and go.”

  Ishani looked up at her adoringly and smiled. “The Matriarch commands.”

  Talitha watched the girl leave then turned to Nekane. “How long before the High Lord disembarks his ship?”

  “If he waits for the other ships to dock, it could be days. If he chooses to come ashore first, it will be around mid-afternoon.”

  Talitha nodded. There was time. “Bring Verner to me.”

  Days later, Talitha stood upon the curtain wall of the palace in silence staring at the sea. Around her stood Tymek’s handpicked guard and beyond them a half dozen of her most powerful princes—a small group representing those that still lived. Nekane was a silent and brooding presence at her elbow. He was silent because he had said all there was to say. His news was momentous. His news was disastrous.

  Wakiza was dead.

  No fanfare, no procession to bring the old warrior home, no crowds to mourn his passing. Nothing. Wakiza was alive, Wakiza was dead… Talitha listened to the silence and grieved. The old warrior had been her mother’s closest advisor when she first ascended the throne. Talitha herself had called him uncle. He taught her how to ride and jump fences, but now he was gone. Dead and un-mourned by all but her. No state funeral would he have, just a shallow grave in a ditch by the side of the road.

  “You are certain. Beyond doubt?”

  Nekane nodded. “Yes Matriarch. He died on the road to Pura of the fever brought on by his wounds.”

  “Methrym again?”

  “I believe so. According to the survivors, Wakiza’s camp was attacked in the night by a force twice his strength. The enemy was well armed and led. Considering where they were, it could only have been Methrym.”

  Talitha nodded. Methrym again. Who else was there? Wakiza had been her greatest Strike Leader—there were no others with even a tenth his skill. The others were mere boys in comparison. She stared at the huge ships in the harbour and despaired.

  “Wakiza was my mother’s greatest Strike Leader—and mine. What now do I have?”

  Nekane answered the rhetorical question. “Quentin is your ablest strike leader after Wakiza.”

  “Quentin was a mere force leader less than a year ago.”

  “That is true, but Wakiza thought highly of him.”

  “Perhaps,” Talitha said doubtfully.

  She knew why Quentin was promoted. The position was given to him as a sop for his father’s pride. Prince Derrin had been someone she had not wished to offend. Derrin was dead now, as were most of her princes. Their heirs were her new princes and for the most part unknown quantities to her. They didn’t feel like her princes. They felt like strangers.

  “We shall see.”

  Talitha stared at a forest of masts. They were attached to a fleet of warships sent by Empress Marzina to aid her against Tanjung. She stared at those huge ships many times larger than anything she had ever seen before and loathed them. Her own ships were as toys compared to these.

  “How many?”

  Nekane’s eyes were busy surveying the fleet. “Two hundred ships Matriarch—more than Tanjung and Japura combined.”

  “Not as many as the Protectorate.”

  “No Matriarch, but these ships are three times larger than the sorcerer’s ships.”

  They were bigger even than that she would judge. They had not been able to land together and had to take turns unloading. There were simply not enough berths. A flood of men and supplies had come from those ships. For days and days, thousands of foreign soldiers had marched through her capital’s streets and out into the countryside. Food was brought into the imperial camps from the surrounding towns and farms. The roads were choked with wagons and merchant caravans all paid for by the Matriarchy. It would take many years for the treasury to recover, but Talitha knew there was no alternative. Without those men, the Matriarchy would cease to exist.

  “Does Teirnon intend insult by delaying his landing?”

  “I do not believe so, Matriarch. Tamorshin ways are not ours. I believe the High Lord is simply being cautious. He wishes to exert control over the countryside before coming ashore. I have men watching his ship. He has received reports nearly every day from his men. I expect his landing almost at any time now.”

  Talitha remembered the day the fleet was sighted. She had prepared herself and awaited Teirnon’s coming in vain. She still felt the humiliation of that day keenly. If anyone else had so insulted her, that man would be dead. As it was, she dare not move against him. He was Marzina’s right hand and controlled the only force anywhere in her lands capable of defeating Methrym.

  “If not insult, then his actions show distrust. Have I not promised his safety, have I not sent information on the whereabouts of Vexin’s army, have I not supplied his officers with all they requested and more?”

  “You have Matriarch.”

  “Am I not courteous?”

  “You are Matriarch. The High Lord dare not fault your preparations… there is no fault.”

  “Yet still he waits for word from his own scouts.”

  “Yes Matriarch.”

  “Yes Matriarch,” Talitha hissed. “Is that all you have to say to me?”

  “What would you have me say? I will say whatever you wish,” Nekane said almost in desperation. “He is a foreigner come to fight a war in a strange land for strangers. It would be more surprising if trust did come easily to him. All we know of Teirnon comes to us by way of Verner, and if I might be blunt, he is not a very reliable source, Matriarch. We know very little of the Tamorshin Empire from our own sources. We know that it’s powerful and dominates the entire western continent, which is many times the size of Waipara. We know that Empress Marzina rules by force, and not like you, by the love of her people. We know Teirnon is considered her best Strike Leader and is her right hand in military matters. Marzina has sent over a hundred thousand men to your aid, yet should she wish it, she could double that number easily. As for their customs… Verner has told us much, but still they are strange to me.”

  “Verner spends a great deal of time with Teirnon.
Has he divested himself completely of his merchant pretence?”

  “He still pretends, Matriarch, but all know what he is. He knows we know of course, but it amuses him to pretend we do not.”

  “A very strange man,” Talitha mused. “A spy very high in Marzina’s trust, a man that speaks like an equal to Teirnon, a man seen to give orders to Imperial officers, yet he seems almost foolish in his attempts to betray me.”

  “Foolish?”

  “Ishani has reported many attempts to bribe and suborn my people. Verner has lived among us for many years. Surely a powerful spy prized by Marzina would have learned something of us by this time. He should have known that his attempts would fail, yet he keeps trying. I don’t trust him.”

  Nekane’s eyes popped wide. “Of course you do not, Matriarch. He’s a spy!”

  “A spy known as such, is no spy at all! Think Nekane, think. What does a spy do?”

  “He… spies. He gathers information, he bribes others to give him what he wants, and tries to make them betray their betters.”

  “Exactly what Verner is doing, or trying to do, but he does it openly.”

  “Not entirely Matriarch.”

  Talitha impatiently waved that away. “He does it so ineptly that we cannot fail to notice. It amounts to the same thing. Why?”

  Nekane frowned. “I do not know.”

  “Neither do I. What else is he doing that we have not seen… anything? Find out!”

  “Yes Matriarch!”

  Talitha turned away from the sight of Marzina’s fleet. “Inform me the instant High lord Teirnon lands. I will be with Jarek.”

  “Yes Matriarch,” Nekane said to her back.

  Talitha descended the stone steps ignoring the pleading look her princes gave her. She knew what they wanted, but there was nothing she could do for them. Wakiza’s army was destroyed, and with it, any hope of defeating the evil Vexin. Ranen... the anguish his name caused her was unlike anything she had ever felt. Ranen was dead and his army shattered, and there was nothing to be done. She had pleaded for aid from Marzina and it had been granted in the form of those huge ships. She did not yet know the cost she would have to pay, but she knew beyond doubt that it would be high.

  She found Jarek asleep in his rooms attended by her personal healer, Wanikiya. He looked better than he had, but the grey tinge on his face had not completely faded. Wanikiya’s apprentice was grinding herbs in the corner and looked startled when she entered. Wanikiya was across the room sowing. She stood and came forward to greet Talitha intending, or so it seemed, to bar her approach.

  “He is asleep Matriarch. You must… should not wake him.”

  Talitha let Wanikiya’s almost command slip by her. If she took notice, she would be required to chastise the healer for her temerity. Tymek watched her, but he was not surprised when she failed to scold Wani.

  “I will not wake him, Wani. I just wanted to sit with him. How is he?”

  “Much better...” Wani began but trailed off when Talitha’s gaze sharpened. She sighed and muttered something about fool questions. “He is dying, Matriarch. I have tried everything. His age…”

  Talitha’s eyes prickled and a tear rolled over her cheek to drip upon the floor. She cried silently while Tymek and Wani fidgeted unable to help. She did not know whom she was crying for—herself or Jarek. He would tell her not to be silly. He was going to the God, he would say.

  Be happy for me little one.

  The tears scolded her eyes, but she held in the wails that threatened to force themselves past the tightness in her chest. She cried silently for Jarek, for her people, but mostly she cried for herself. Everyone she cared for was leaving her behind.

  She did not want to stay. Not alone.

  The door opened behind her and Tymek had a whispered conversation. The door closed and he stepped forward uncertainly. Talitha dried her eyes roughly and gave him permission to speak.

  “I am sorry, Matriarch, but word has finally come.”

  “What word?”

  “The envoy has come ashore.”

  “The High Lord is ashore now?”

  Tymek nodded. “That was the message, Matriarch.”

  Talitha went to the bed and bent to kiss Jarek’s cheek. He did not stir. “Look after him, Wani.”

  “I will, Matriarch.”

  Talitha regarded herself in Jarek’s mirror. There was no sign of her tears or the weakness they represented. She would not change her clothes, she decided. Teirnon had insulted her whether that was his intention or not. Nekane might be correct, she would reserve judgment on that, but the humiliation she had felt on the day of the fleet’s arrival was all too real. She would make no special effort to welcome this man, this High Lord of a foreign power. His empress had given him and his army to her. At least, Marzina had lent him to her. She would use him as he was made to be used—to destroy her enemies. Then she would discard him.

  “We go,” Talitha said.

  “Where Matriarch?” Tymek said.

  “I will greet him from the High Seat.”

  Tymek looked pleased. He opened the door for her and his men fell in about her as they made their way through the palace to the Great Hall of the Assembly. The cavernous hall was empty and dark when she entered. Talitha stood in the centre of the circular hall imagining her princes, men now dead, sitting on the tiers and listening to a debate. Ranen would have sat over there, she remembered, but then he had died before a consort’s position could be added next to the High Seat as tradition demanded. The consort’s chair was in storage somewhere and would remain so for many years to come. Ranen had been First Prince of Lushan. Princes of Lushan had by tradition sat to the left on the second tier. Talitha had an urge to go up there and sit, but such follies were beneath the Matriarch. Ranen was gone. Nothing remained of him here in this pile of stone. If anything of the man remained it was in her belly. Their child was all that was left of him and their love.

  Talitha stood in silence amidst a hurricane of activity. Servants from all over the palace descended upon the Great Hall in a panic. Lamps were lit, gleaming floors swept free of non-existent dust, and pillows were plumped. Nekane arrived in his best robe of office panting a little from his rush. He stopped when he found her waiting and took a few steadying breaths. Talitha smiled. She could almost see Jarek, his teacher, in his place ready to scold her. The smile withered as she remembered why they were here.

  “He is approaching the palace, Matriarch. If I might suggest…”

  “Suggest away, but this Teirnon is no friend of ours. He is a tool, nothing more.”

  “A powerful tool, Matriarch. Best we take care that it not turn in our hand. I have need of Tymek.”

  Talitha waved airily. “Take him.”

  Nekane bowed and whispered urgently to Tymek who hurried away. Talitha ascended the steps and sat in the High Seat to watch her servants prepare for the High Lord’s arrival. They worked fast and the hall slowly emptied as each task was completed. The silence was broken a very short time later by marching feet in the hall outside. The doors opened, and the High Lord’s procession entered.

  He was a handsome man, Talitha mused. Old, but still powerful in body. She guessed Teirnon’s age at close to a half century. The clansman at his left hand was a surprise. Obviously just a servant, but where did Teirnon find a Camorin slave? The clans never left the plain. Did that mean the empire had secretly been dealing with the Protectorate? Everyone knew of the sorcerer’s current interest in Camorin. The Clansman wore beads in his hair and wore dark, age-worn, leathers. He was a man not unaccustomed to hard work if his clothes were anything to go by. It said something interesting about Teirnon that such a man stood close to him. No simple lord he.

  Talitha noted and dismissed the soldier at Teirnon’s left shoulder. He was merely an aide of some kind. The High Lord’s guard stood in three neat rows behind him, which was an unwelcome surprise. Nekane joined her and whispered his reasons for allowing them entrance. She agreed with him. She did
not want to offend Teirnon, but Teirnon obviously did not feel the same about her. She pretended not to notice them or the weapons they brought into her presence. She trusted Tymek and the men he had chosen—she recognised many of them. Tymek had roused her night guard to serve as part of Teirnon’s honour guard and had positioned himself and his men accordingly.

  “…ashore, I shall march upon Jundai and eliminate the force there,” Teirnon was saying.

  Talitha gestured and Nekane leaned down to listen. “Do you know how he knows of Jundai?”

  “It can only be Verner, Matriarch.”

  Talitha nodded and stood. Her backside was numb. With her pregnancy weighing her down, she could hardly sit still. The high seat had never been made for comfort.

  She descended the steps. “You are well informed, Teirnon.”

  Teirnon acknowledged that with a nod. “You are aware that I have men in the countryside, Matriarch. I have received constant updates.”

  “Updates yes, up to date, no,” Talitha said coldly and Teirnon’s face reddened with his anger. Someone had failed him. “Jundai is fallen. Talayan is destroyed along with countless other towns, villages, and farms.” Talitha raised a hand and Nekane placed a scroll upon her palm. “Marching upon Jundai will not serve me. Lushan is the next city likely to fall to Methrym. You will prevent it.”

  Teirnon took the scroll. “What is this?”

  “A report from Jundai. Look closely and you will find the exact numbers of men within Methrym’s army. You will also find descriptions of his commanders and the tactics they prefer to use.”

  “Excellent,” Teirnon said taking a much greater interest. “Weapons, horses, supplies…” he murmured as he read. “What is this section? What are irregulars?”

  “Methrym… liberated,” Talitha said the word with distaste. “A great many slaves when he burned Talayan. Many thousands of slaves dispersed into Tanjung, but two groups stayed with him to fight. Irregulars are men and women that fight from concealment on foot.”

  “Infantry then,” Teirnon said dismissively.

  “Unlike any infantry you have ever seen. They fight like Borderers—people living on the border between Japura and Tanjung, but they’re not truly from either one. They use ambush and trickery. They prefer to use powerful bows from hiding.”