King's Dragon (Crown of Stars #1)

King's Dragon (Crown of Stars #1) Page 160

“Someone must go out and placate them,” said Werner, eyeing her with a mixture of craftiness and doubt.

“They are asking for you, my lord.” said the steward cautiously.

Werner smoothed down his fine wool tunic nervously, twining his fingers into the soft leather belt. Its gold buckle was studded ostentatiously with lapis lazuli. “I can’t—it would be too dangerous—” His distracted gaze caught again on Liath and his expression brightened. “Eagle, fetch Prince Sanglant. He will attend me. After all—” He began twisting the rings on his fingers, a habit Liath had seen him indulge in before. They were stunningly beautiful rings, one set with tiny rubies, one with an amethyst, one with an engraved stone of lapis lazuli of a particularly intense blue; the fourth was a thin circle of cunningly-worked cloisonne so delicately done Liath could not imagine how human fingers could have wrought it. “After all he is here to protect Gent, and if the crowd were to grow angry or vengeful, or to threaten me …”

She nodded obediently and withdrew from the hall. Outside, the sun shone. From the safety of the great courtyard, bounded by the palace and great hall on one side, the kitchens and outbuildings on the second, the barracks and stables on the third, and the palisade gates on the fourth, she could hear the crowd that had gathered on the other side of the palace compound gates. They spoke in many voices, but their murmuring was edged with fury and with that kind of desperation past which there is nothing left to lose.

Werner could not afford to have riot within and siege without; abruptly she realized what the artisan in the marketplace had meant by the inner beast. She straightened her tunic and twisted the end of her braid in a hand, then cursed herself for caring what she looked like. Perhaps it was true Prince Sanglant looked at her now and again, but he looked at every remotely attractive woman he came within sight of. Liath only noticed because she would watch him, and try not to watch him, when they were in the hall at the same time or passing in the courtyard or around the stables.

But this was not time to reflect on such trivial concerns. As Da always said, “No point in worrying at a loose thread while the sheep are being eaten by wolves.”

She steadied herself and strode to the stables and then down the long dim passage. She saw no sign of the man and child she had tried to help. Beyond the actual stables, but within the palace stockade, was a stableyard with its own gate. In this yard the Dragons took their ease in the fine spring sun or—most often—practiced with sword and spear. So did they now.

She paused at the doors, brushing straw dust off her nose and trying not to sneeze. Two men sparred with staves. Several of the younger men pounded dutifully on a sturdy wooden pole set upright in the ground. An older man sat on a bench, repairing a pair of boiled leather greaves that had been oiled to a fine brown sheen. Sanglant laughed.

His laughter was so sharp and bright that it rang on the air. She found him half hidden behind a line of laundry hung out to dry in the warm morning sunlight. He came out from the shadow of the laundry, head flung back. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He held a sword wrapped in cloth in one hand and his teardrop shield painted with the black dragon device in the other. He wore not his mail but only the padded gambeson that went underneath armor. After him came two others—the woman and a young man with light hair and a yellow beard—similarly armed; they had obviously been at sword practice.

Sanglant wiped the sweat from his face and turned to look directly at Liath, across the stableyard. He lifted a hand. All activity ceased and every Dragon there turned to look at her. She bit down a sudden impulse to flee, lifted her chin, and walked across the yard to the prince.

“Mayor Werner wishes you to attend him,” she said boldly and clearly. “There is a crowd—”

“Ah, yes,” said the prince interrupting her. “I was wondering when Mayor Werner would send someone to fetch me. They’ve been gaining in numbers since dawn.” He seemed more amused than angry or worried. He handed sword and shield to the woman, got a spear in exchange, and gestured for Liath to precede him. No one else came, only him. As they walked back through the stables, she felt his gaze on her back.

He said, “I’ve never seen you use that bow. It’s of Quman make, is it not?”

“It is.”

“It’s a strange pattern, the deer who is vanquished and yet whose antlers are giving birth to griffins.”

The observation startled her, but she dared not slacken her pace or turn around.

“You have such brilliantly blue eyes,” he added, as if it was an afterthought. “Like the heart of fire. Or that fine lapis lazuli stone on Mayor Werner’s finger.”