Stay alive…

By the time the light failed and it became too dark for him to see, he'd found himself a place to shelter, nestled into the hollow of a giant tree. He tried to sleep. When that didn't work, he tried telling himself that it was summer, that the nights were short and warm, even here in the foothills of the Worldspine, that the sun would rise before long. He'd make his way back to the river, the sell-swords would be there, the queen and her riders would return, and everything would be fine.

Halfway through the night, it started to rain.

The Knight-Marshal

Lady Nastria, knight-marshal and mistress of Queen Shezira's dragon-riders, glanced up and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She saw what she always saw. A short, mouse-haired, nondescript rider who shouldn't have amounted to anything much but who found herself knight-marshal to the most powerful queen in the realms. An enigma. Sometimes even she didn't know who she truly was.

Today, though, if she was an enigma, she was an irritated one. She was having trouble with her boots. However much she stamped her feet, they were never quite comfortable. It was as if, overnight, they didn't fit any more.

'So? Did he or didn't he?' Queen Shezira sat lounging in a corner of the knight-marshal's robing room. She looked distant, Nastria thought. Distracted.

'Short answer: I don't know.' There. Finally one heel slipped into place. One down, one to go. 'If he did, he was keeping it well hidden.'

'We might have been wrong about Speaker Hyram. He's not himself any more. Perhaps we should have brought the white with us for him to see before Jehal gets her.'

Lady Nastria snorted. 'Holiness, Hyram hates Prince Jehal. He's also petty-minded and vindictive. You sent the white across the Purple Spur because if you'd brought her to the Adamantine Eyrie, he'd have found a way to ruin her, just out of spite.'

'I don't think Lystra or Jaslyn thought much of our speaker either.' No. They were both too busy making eyes at Valmeyan's ambassador, Prince Tichane. When they weren't giggling at that vacuous Prince Tyrin and his brothers. Who, ancestors help us, will doubtless be waiting for us in Furymouth in a few days.

'There's not much to think, Your Holiness, not any more. He was a strong man once. Not exactly a good one, not even a fair one or a just one, but strong enough to exert his will. He's not even that any more. The realms will breathe a sigh of relief when you take his place.'

Shezira got up and started to pace. 'The Hyram I remember, back when we were all a lot younger, he would have mated one of his males to my white while we were sleeping. Oh, he'd have apologised and made some gesture of penitence, but he'd claim the eggs, if there were any, you can be sure of that. But he's not that man any more. If you had seen him last night, you would know that.'

'From the sound of things it's as well I didn't. I might have been compelled to put him out of his misery there and then. Got it!' Nastria took a deep breath and sighed, as the second riding boot finally slipped around her foot. 'No, I think you were wise, my queen, not to bring Jehal's gift here. I didn't uncover anything in Hyram's eyrie to damn him, but still… I dare say Prince Jehal would have been extremely put out if his wedding present had been spoiled.' She wrinkled her nose and smirked. 'All I found were whispers that Hyram's acquired a fondness for little boys of late. They say that no one's seen him with a woman for months and that his pot-boys keep going missing.'

The queen sighed, and Nastria frowned. Shezira wasn't herself this morning. She was pensive and troubled, and all because Speaker Hyram might actually be dying at last.

'Do you think I should have married again, after Antros?'

'No!' Nastria turned away quickly before the queen could look at her and fumbled with a buckle.

No. I suppose not. Pointless really.' Then Shezira laughed and pointed to the door, and the two of them walked, and then rode in silence to Speaker Hyram's eyrie.

'It's a good eyrie, this one,' muttered the queen as they dismounted. 'I'll enjoy having it for my time.'

'I prefer Outwatch, Your Holiness,' said Nastria, but Shezira was already walking away, seeking out Mistral and her daughters, leaving Nastria on her own.

Which hardly bothered her at all. Being alone was what she did best.

Later, when they were all high in the sky, riding their dragons with the Adamantine Palace behind them, soaring with the thermals rising over the Purple Spur peaks on their way to rendezvous with Jehal's white and her little escort, Nastria wondered about a certain pair of sell-swords, and how well they took to being alone. Probably not so well at all, she thought.

A few hours flight was enough to take them around the south side of the Purple Spur peaks to Drotan's Top, a dome-shaped hill with a flat crest big enough to land a whole eyrie full of dragons. Drotan's Top marked the end of the Adamantine Palace's domain. To the west the land grew ever more rugged, rising up into the Worldspine and the rule of Valmeyan, the King of the Crags. To the south stretched the realm of the Harvest Throne, of Queen Aliphera.

No, Nastria reminded herself. Queen Zafir now.

Drotan's Top wasn't exactly an eyrie, but Speaker Hyram had built a small stronghold there with some animal pens. The hunting was supposed to be superb in these parts. As soon as Nastria had seen her mount was well cared for, she went looking for the queen. She knew exactly where to go. Hyram had built a lookout tower on the north side of the Top, where the landscape swept sharply down into the cavernous basin of the Fury River valley, and then up again to the Purple Spur peaks, a dozen or more miles away. Shezira was there, looking out over the valley, eyes fixed firmly to the north.

'I knew I'd find you here.' Nastria stood beside her queen. 'Looking for your white, Your Holiness?'

'Of course.'

'They have to fly up over the mountains. They have a much harder day of it than us today.'

'I know. And yes, I know they probably won't be here for hours. But still I want to look. I'm afraid I shall be poor company until I see my precious white, safe and sound.'

Nastria allowed herself a secret smile while the queen couldn't see her face. 'I'm a little surprised you're not on Mistral's back and flying out to meet them.'

Shezira snorted. 'We both know where that leads. The sky is immense; we fly along different valleys, around different mountains, never seeing one another. Everyone gets lost. No. I'll bear the waiting. Badly, mind you, but I'll bear it.'

'Your Holiness, may I speak with you about Queen Aliphera?'

'If you must. I had invited her to come here and hunt with us before we flew on to be guests at The Pinnacles.' She frowned. 'It's a shame she's gone. I wondered if her daughter might come instead. The new queen. Which one is the older?'

'Zafir, Your Holiness.'

'Yes.' Shezira smiled. 'Another queen who could only make daughters. All those kings out there must have thought we had a secret conspiracy between us. This Zafir. I've met her, but that was years ago. She and her sister seemed rather bland. What do you know about her?'

'No more than you do, Your Holiness.'

'Really, Knight-Marshal?' Shezira raised an eyebrow. 'That's very unusual for you.'

Nastria felt herself redden. 'We should send a rider, Your Holiness, to the new queen's eyrie. We should ask them for her blessing for our journey. If we send a dragon right away, it will delay us here another day. If we wait until the morning, it will be two days before we hear a reply.'

The queen nodded. 'Make it so. Send Hyrkallan. He's suitable, and he's been chafing at the bit to let his hunting dragon off its reins. Mistral doesn't fly fast enough for his liking.'