Bones of the Dragon - Margaret Weis [116]
“As Chief of Chiefs,” said Draya, seeing his dilemma, “it is right and proper that you have a fine mount.”
Skylan thought this over and nodded. “I thank you,” he said stiffly. “Your gift is . . . most generous.”
“What will you and the Chiefs discuss?” Draya asked, trying to make conversation.
He seemed about to tell her it was none of her business. Then he shrugged. “What do you think, madam? We must make plans to recover the Vektan Torque from the ogres. While I am on my journey, the Chiefs will gather their warriors. On my return, they will be ready to sail—”
“—to the Hall of Vektia,” said Draya. She dared not look at him. “You must have forgotten, Husband. First we sail to the Dragon Isles. You must present yourself as Chief of Chiefs to the gods—”
“The gods know me well enough already!” Skylan said angrily. “You are Kai Priestess! Do you want to leave the Vektan Torque in the hands of the ogres?”
“No, lord, of course I do not,” said Draya. “But you have no idea where the ogres’ lands are located!”
“I will find them,” said Skylan.
“At the Hall of Vektia, we could ask Vindrash—”
“You can ask her now!” Skylan flared, glaring at Draya. “Why sail all the way to the Dragon Isles to speak to her?”
Skylan started to leave.
He is young and impatient, Draya counseled herself. He doesn’t understand.
“My lord,” she said, “we will first sail to the Dragon Isles. Together. While we are there, we will ask the gods’ blessing for your voyage to the ogre lands.”
Skylan didn’t wait to hear the rest. Muttering something she was thankful she could not hear, he banged out the door, letting it slam shut after him.
Draya felt faint. She tried to reach a stool, but her legs gave way and she sank to the floor.
“Vindrash,” she prayed, clasping her hands, “you know the reason I committed this terrible crime. You know I did not kill Horg out of hatred or revenge, though you also know no woman ever had better cause! What else could I do, Vindrash? He was threatening to destroy the Kai, and with it the faith, which is all that keeps our people alive! I did what I had to do! You know that, Vindrash! I had no choice. Do not abandon me, Goddess! Do not!”
Draya listened tensely, waiting to hear the soothing, sibilant whisper of the goddess. She heard the fussing of robins, the sigh of the wind in the trees, the distant crashing of waves on the shore, but no sound of the goddess’s voice.
Draya shuddered. Sighing deeply, she rose to her feet, gathered her robes around her, forced her lips to form a smile, and made her way to the Great Hall of the Gods.
Skylan left the house seething, half-blinded with rage. He was Chief of Chiefs! How dare she order him about? Now, instead of sailing off to battle and glory, he would have to endure a voyage with her! Skylan had considered defying her, but he knew that would never work. He was dependent on the Bone Priestesses. No dragon would sail without them. Draya had only to say the word, and his voyage to the ogre lands would end before it began.
Skylan could not bear to face the Clan Chiefs. He decided to go to the pen where the horses were kept. He was still of two minds whether to accept the horse or not. He disliked the thought of taking anything from his wife. Yet, Draya was right. As Chief of Chiefs, it was proper and fitting that he should have a fine mount.
He spotted Blade immediately. With his shining black coat, he stood out from the others in the community horse pen. The white mark on his forehead, shaped like a sword’s blade, had inspired his name. Several young boys hanging about the horse pen were glad to help Skylan catch Blade and escort him out of the pen.
Blade was a proud animal who did not take kindly to being ridden, undoubtedly believing that having a man on his back was an affront to his dignity. When Skylan tried to put the saddle on him, Blade kicked and bucked, sending the small boys scrambling. Skylan laughed. He was glad the horse had spirit.
He was pleased with Draya