Shadow War - Deborah Chester [124]
“Perhaps not,” Vysal said. “But I intend to include him in the selections just the same. Sergeant.”
Baiter pulled his shoulders back and saluted, then signaled for the men to release Caelan. Scowling ferociously, Baiter marched Caelan down the steps.
The dragon watched them go by with glowing eyes. It hissed, letting little sparks of flames curl through its pointed teeth.
Caelan’s heart boiled. He glared back at it with equal savagery, ready to attack if he got the chance.
“Come on,” Baiter muttered. “You’ve caused enough trouble.”
They went on, moving fast, and with every step Baiter muttered more.
“I should have known. Those stripes on your back. If the trainers in the arenas couldn’t handle you, I should have known you’d be a discipline problem from the first. And in front of General Paz, no less. But there’ll be no more of your nonsense here.”
“You said you valued spirit,” Caelan retorted.
“Silence! A soldier who can’t follow orders is useless. Useless! You do what you’re told, nothing else.”
Caelan set his jaw. “I will fight my enemies.”
“The Thyzarenes are allies.”
“Not to me.”
“Personal vendettas have no place here. You will follow orders and you will carry them out. Nothing more, nothing less. You do not think on your own. You do not act on your own.”
A muscle worked in Caelan’s jaw, but he made no reply. He had no intention of complying with such nonsense. Not when it stood between him and what was right.
“The captain is mad to select you,” Baiter muttered, shoving Caelan over to the others, who were still standing on the parade ground where they’d been left. “You’ll never be chosen to serve the empress. Never.”
Caelan flicked him a resentful glance. “They killed my family,” he said harshly. “They burned and pillaged. I saw them slit my father’s throat.”
“I don’t care,” Baiter said, equally angry. “You made a fool out of me. Now the officers will think I can’t control my own men. It’s the lash you need, and the lash you’ll have if you don’t calm down and do as you’re told. Stand here. And cause no more trouble. You understand?”
Seething, Caelan stepped onto the precise spot the sergeant was pointing to. “Yes, sir.”
Chapter Seventeen
By the end of the week, the coronation festivities were but a memory and even an unexplained flurry of war councils had tapered off. Elandra was putting on her cloak and gloves to go riding, when a chancellor came to her chambers with a low bow.
“Majesty, the emperor summons your presence at once.”
She nodded and turned to one of her ladies. “Please send word to the stables to dismiss my groom.”
The woman curtsied and went out.
Elandra reached for the strings of her cloak. “A moment, if you please, sir, while I remove my cloak and gloves.”
“Nay, Majesty, the day is cold and you will need them. The emperor awaits you in the armory.”
She glanced up in quick anticipation, her heart speeding up. A dozen speculations ran through her mind, but she knew what this meant. Smiling, she said, “I am ready.”
With the man to escort her, she hurried out of the palace and down the broad steps to the immense parade ground. Her guardsmen followed close.
It was an overcast day, gloomy and bitterly cold. Little pellets of sleet hit her face as she walked. She drew up her hood, huddling inside her fur-lined cloak, and wondered if winter would ever end. She hated the cold.
But at least on a dreary day like this she couldn’t see the black cloud that stretched across the horizon. As an omen, it was bleak indeed. She tried not to think about it, yet what good did ignoring it do?
As for the rumors of a Madrun invasion, they had dwindled and were now dismissed as gossip among the courtiers. Tirhin had not been cast in prison, so Elandra supposed the whole matter had been a falsehood from the first. She was glad now she had not involved herself deeply.
The emperor had been busy and preoccupied. She had scarcely seen him since the coronation. It was as though she were a detail that had taken much of his attention for a time, but