Treasures of Fantasy - Margaret Weis [124]
“She is the Empress,” said Xydis. “For her, there are no rules. Speaking of the Empress, I must be on hand when she arrives to welcome her. We will speak later. Pray to Aelon.”
“Well,” said Treia eagerly when Raegar returned to their seats, which were near the fire pit. As a warrior-priest, Raegar would guard the sacred fire during the game. “Is the Priest-General going to stop the game?”
“He can’t,” said Raegar. “She is the Empress. There is nothing he can do.”
“But what about the secret of the Vektan dragon?” Treia asked, dismayed.
“Xydis says we must have faith in Aelon. Our god knows best,” said Raegar. “Aelon has us in his care. Now I must go attend to my duties.”
He hurried off, leaving Treia on her own.
“Piss on Aelon,” she muttered.
She stood thinking a moment, then, turning on her heel, she shoved her way through the crowd.
Wulfe was determined to keep his promise to Skylan. The boy was glad to be back with his friends, glad that he was free of at least one burden of guilt—the murder of those two guards. Skylan had assured him that he wasn’t angry with him.
“Though some of the others would be very angry,” Skylan had warned him. “Even to the point of wanting to get rid of you. You must keep the secret that you . . . uh . . . have this daemon inside you. Promise?”
Wulfe promised. One promise he meant to keep.
The Torgun had been glad to see the boy return. Wulfe had been touched and astonished by their obvious affection for him. Which made the second secret he knew harder to bear. Skylan and his friends were slaves and Wulfe had the means of setting them free. Or at least the means of giving them a fighting chance.
After the Torgun left for the Para Dix and Wulfe was alone to do what he pleased, he first went to find something to eat. Then he made the long trek to the river and back for a bath.
He played in the water awhile, hoping to find some river sprites to talk to, for he was lonely and bored. There were no river sprites, however. No dryads in the trees, exchanging gossip. The fae in this land had fled or been driven out by Aelon.
After his swim, Wulfe was sleepy and he went back to his tent to take a nap. He woke, terrified, from a dream that a fury was trying to kill Skylan.
_____
The driver of one of the Church carriages had been extremely annoyed when Treia had accosted him and told him to drive her to the villa of Legate Acronis, saying she was going to treat an ill slave. He didn’t want to leave the game. Treia insisted, however, telling him that she was acting on orders from Warrior-Priest Raegar.
Muttering imprecations, the driver obeyed and they rolled off through the streets that were relatively empty, since most people were attending the game. A few children and half-starved dogs roamed the alleys, searching through piles of garbage for food. Slatternly women with babies on their hips looked wearily out of doorways or sat in the shade. The carriage passed a man either dead or dead drunk lying in the gutter.
When they arrived, Treia told the driver not to wait for her; she didn’t know how long she would be. He was glad to go, eager to return to the games.
Treia walked down the hill toward the slave compound.
When Wulfe woke, he remembered clearly the frightening dream. His friends were in danger in this horrible place. They would always be in danger. He had the means to save them and he was going to do it.
Wulfe left the tent and made his way across the compound to the Venjekar. The ship had been removed from the cart and now lay wallowing on the grass like a beached whale. Wulfe pulled himself up and over the side. He felt happy and glad to be home, a feeling that vanished when he saw the dragon-shaped prow propped up against the hull.
Wulfe had always been in awe of the Dragon Kahg—awed and afraid. The dragon’s red eyes glared disapproval, at least in Wulfe’s mind.
Wulfe knew the dragon’s secret. He knew the spiritbone on the Venjekar