Bones of the Dragon - Margaret Weis [131]
“No, I will go myself,” said Skylan, sliding the cloth up and down the shining blade. “I want to talk to my father, make arrangements. That will mean I must leave you again, I fear.”
“But you have only just returned, lord. Let me send a messenger—”
“I said I will go myself,” said Skylan. “My father would take it ill otherwise.”
Draya did not think Norgaard would care. She was certain that this was simply another of Skylan’s excuses to avoid being alone with her, and her heart sank. She tried to smile, however, to make herself as agreeable as possible. She had lost her temper with him once before, and the consequences had been disastrous.
“Just as you say, lord. You will, of course, want to bring your father and your friends to the Dragon Isles with us. And Treia will come as Bone Priestess—”
“No!” Skylan said sharply.
He ceased his work and lifted his gaze to meet hers. His blue eyes glinted in the firelight.
She stared at him in wonder. He stood up abruptly and slid the sword into its leather sheath. He turned to face her, speaking in gentler tones.
“I want Heudjun warriors to man the dragonship. And you will serve as Bone Priestess.” He gave a stiff smile. “Now you see why I must explain matters to my father. He might be offended otherwise.”
“The Heudjun will be honored to be chosen, of course,” said Draya, “but your friends could come, as well.”
“There might be trouble between the men,” said Skylan. “And nothing must go wrong on this journey.”
“Very well,” said Draya, though she remained puzzled. “When will you leave?”
“Tomorrow morning. This must be done without delay. Thank you for supper,” he added politely. “It was delicious. Do not wait up for me.”
He walked to the door.
“Husband,” said Draya, “where are you going?”
“To the stables,” he replied. “Blade was not acting right. I fear he may have colic. I’m going to sit up with him tonight.”
Draya sighed. Colic in horses was extremely serious and could be fatal. Skylan was right to be concerned, and yet one of the stable boys could sit up with the horse. She bit her tongue, said nothing. Skylan made her a slight bow and then left.
Draya remained at home, fussing about the dwelling, and then she could stand it no longer. She put on a dark cloak, pulled the hood up over her head, and went out into the night.
Perhaps the horse was truly ill. If so, she might be able to help. Certain poultices were said to ease colic. She would have to give some excuse to explain her presence. She couldn’t let Skylan know she didn’t trust him. She drew near the stable door, and then she heard laughter, raucous laughter, the laughter of young men handing around the ale pitcher.
Skylan’s voice rose above the laughter. He was telling some tale about some battle or other. He sounded very drunk.
Tears filled Draya’s eyes. She listened to him and thought of how greatly she loved him.
And how greatly she had wronged him.
CHAPTER
7
Guided by the spirit of the Dragon Kahg, the Venjekar bounded over the waves. Skylan leaned on the rail, enjoying the exhilarating ride. He was in good spirits, and he grinned as a wave broke over the keel, completely soaking him. Skylan shook back his wet hair and cast a smiling glance over his shoulder at the young Heudjun warriors, who laughed at the sight of their Chief of Chiefs being drenched. The young men were in an excellent mood, proud of having been chosen to serve as bodyguards, excited to be traveling to the Dragon Isles in company with their Kai Priestess and their Chief of Chiefs.
Skylan looked back out to sea. He had brought along a guide, a man familiar with the territory, and Skylan could have left the navigation up to him. Skylan liked to know where he was, however, and he had the guide point out to him the various landmarks as they sailed along the coastline.
Everything had gone well thus far—so well that Skylan began to think Torval had relented and was once again smiling down on him with favor. True, the Torgun warriors had been furious when he had not chosen them to sail with him to the Dragon Isles,