Draka Chapter 365: The Best Of Friends (Patreon)

As we lay on short mountain grass, basking in the sun, Sandstorm asked me, “When can we go spy on the thieves who killed my father?”

We were within the recently established borders of her territory, which ran the length of the canyon and roughly a mile in any direction, and she had graciously invited me to share one of her goats, a herd of which wandered freely across the border. She’d hidden her share of the plunder somewhere in her new lair; she hadn’t said so, but she’d stayed behind for several minutes after I left, and the little bulge at the base of her throat was gone.

“I don’t know for sure,” I replied, lazily spreading my wings to catch more of the sun’s heat. “Once the humans have everything under control in the south.”

“How long will that take?”

“A few days, I suppose. They already have troops in Happar.”

“A few days,” she whispered. A few moments passed, and she asked. “Do you think… do you think we could take a piece of my hoard back, then?”

“Hrrrm… maybe. Depends. If you’re fine with me touching it—”

A growl rumbled out of her — one which I suspected was entirely involuntary, based on how she stopped immediately and turned her head away when I looked at her. Still: message received.

“No, of course not. Silly of me,” I continued smoothly. “If they’re both gone, and if we’re quick, then probably? But won’t they be able to sense it if you take some?”

“No. It is still mine,” Sandstorm said. “They either have not found my hoard, or they have not reached it. If they had, they would have claimed it, and then it would not be mine anymore.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.” I hadn’t thought of that. I had no idea at all what happened when you took something from someone else’s hoard and added it to your own, but based on what my cousin had just told me, that was the basis of ownership. Which made sense, when I thought about it. Anything in my hoard was, almost by definition, mine. Nothing could be in my hoard that wasn’t mine. So if it had once belonged to someone else when I put it there, then it could no longer be theirs. It made perfect sense.

It also made me wonder if there might be a situation, like Sandstorm’s, where it would be preferable that whoever stole your territory also stole your hoard. At least it would get rid of the pain and the terrible sense of loss. Then I realized that I was being far too human, which in this case meant stupid. I recontextualized it for myself: If I was separated from Herald or Mak, would I rather know that they were out there, far away but alive, or that they were dead and gone forever? The answer was obvious: whether we were likely to be reunited or not, I’d want to know that they were out there. I’d want the possibility.

Of course, if someone stole my hoard and added it to their own so that there was no way for me to say for sure which piece they’d taken from me, then I always had the option of killing them and taking everything they had. Couldn’t do that if something happened to the people I loved. Vengeance never brought anyone back.

As we returned to basking in comfortable silence, our short conversation reminded me that I still needed to talk to the Council. We needed to talk about them securing our shores. I didn’t even know if they’d heard about the invading army until I spoke with Alanna. I hoped so, but the Karakani navy had been badly savaged, and I didn’t know if they had any loyal cavalry patrolling Happar. I certainly hadn’t seen anyone keeping an eye on the camp… though, in all fairness, I was also pretty sure that someone keeping an eye on an invading army would be doing their damndest to keep themselves unseen.

“We should get back to the city,” I told her a little later. “Are you done here for now?”

In response, she slowly got to her feet. With a great, contented groan, she stretched every part of her, from her snout to the tip of her tail. Then she said, “I am. Let us go. I should speak to the Weaver in any case.”

Arranging a meeting with the Council was as easy as ever. I flew to the Forum, walked up to the Palace, and waited for someone to either work up the courage or be voluntold to speak with me. Once a nervous woman in a fine tunic and long skirt emerged, I informed her that I wanted to speak with the leaders of the city at their convenience, and that they could send word to Her Grace’s Favor as usual.

It took no more than two hours, which I mostly spent talking idly with Herald and Maglan, and Tam and Val when they came by, before a messenger arrived. She carried the expected letter: the Council requested my presence at my convenience, et cetera, et cetera. In other words, they were gathered, and waiting. I was sure that lord hierophant Nahasia loved that. And as funny as it would be to possibly give the man a rage-induced aneurysm by snubbing them, it wasn’t like I intended to keep them waiting. I did enjoy a positive working relationship with most of them, after all.

Sandstorm was out and about somewhere by then, which was too bad; I would have liked to bring her along, since she’d been part of it. Mak was down at the new estate, doing… I wasn’t sure, really. Something important to do with the renovations. But Herald was right there with me when Lina brought out the letter the messenger had carried.

“How about it?” I asked. “Feel like talking to the Council? You too, Mag. Wouldn’t want to cut your day together short.”

“Oh, sure! Let me put on some nice clothes,” Herald said and got up, holding out her hand to Maglan.

Maglan took it, but it looked like a reflex, because he didn’t move from where he sat. He blanched, opened his mouth soundlessly, closed it, then said, “The Council? Me?”

“Mm-hmm!” Herald hummed cheerfully. Then she really looked at him, and her voice became gentle. “You do not have to come. And if you do, you do not have to say anything. But you will meet the lord exchequer and the lady admiral soon enough, them being friends of ours. You may as well see them all. And I think it would be good if they saw you in Draka’s company. They already know about you and me, but it might be a good reminder for them who you are. They like to keep her, and by extension us, happy.”

In other words, though Maglan was technically a regular citizen and a soldier in the Karakani army, the rules no longer applied to him. Though I couldn’t tell if that part really sank in. Maglan just turned his head to look past Herald at me, as though he’d momentarily forgotten that I was there. “Oh, right,” he said. “They would, wouldn’t they?”

“So?” Herald asked. “Will you come?”

“I have that… the robe,” he said, slowly looking back at Herald. “The one I wore to the auction.”

“That will do wonderfully.”

Then he objected, “But I’m just some soldier off the street. I’m not even in the rolls. I don’t belong in the Palace.”

“You were. And I was just the sister of a dancing girl and a messenger. But now I am Drakonum Herald, sister of Draka, the Black Lady of Karakan. And you, Mag, are my soldier. You are my love. You belong anywhere I do. And I belong with Draka in that council chamber. So?”

“I don’t have to say anything?”

“Only your name, if they ask for it,” she promised.

“Right. Yeah.” Moving as though through water, he stood. “Alright. I’ll come.”

I couldn’t see Herald’s face, but from her little bounce I knew that she’d be beaming. “Wonderful! Let us get dressed.” Then she turned on me, and I was right. “Draka, we will be taking a palanquin. Meet you out front in fifteen minutes at most!”

*

Less than an hour later I stood, once again, before the ruling Council of Karakan. I wondered idly if it might be the last time I stood in that chamber. I’d had to duck to get in the front gate to the Palace, and I practically had to crawl to get inside the council chamber. It was annoying, and more than that, it was demeaning. I was glad now that I hadn’t brought Sandstorm; I wasn’t sure that her pride and dignity would have allowed her to enter without knocking down parts of the doorway.

No, if I grew much more, I’d either have to Shift to get through the doors, which was a whole thing in itself, or we’d have to meet elsewhere. The Forum was out, since we sometimes talked about things that really shouldn’t be public knowledge; one of the councillors’s estates was an option, and an attractive one, since the ones I’d seen had nice gardens. When we last met, a little over a month ago, we’d done so outside at Yakamo’s estate in the city, which I’d liked very much.

But then I thought, maybe I could have them come to me at the House’s new estate? There was an idea. “The lady Draka requests the Council’s presence at the Drakonum estate at their earliest convenience.” Having the Council come to me. That was even better than making them wait.

On the bright side, my extra size meant that I could now sit back and face the seated councillors instead of having them look down on me. Nahasia hated that, to my great amusement. The old man glared at me in silence; I wasn’t doing anything that he could complain about without making himself look like a petulant old goat, and he knew it. So instead he fumed impotently, refusing to look away from me as he engaged in some kind of one-man staring contest.

Besides my amusement, I ignored him. I was much more interested in the two newcomers.

The first was General Sarvalian — the lord militant at the moment, I supposed. He looked well, healthy and in good spirits, and why wouldn’t he be? He’d led the Karakani army to victory over Happar. If my draconic allies and I had been absolutely indispensable to that victory, he was pragmatic enough not to mind sharing in the glory. He grinned at me with the pleasure of a man seeing an old friend or well-liked acquaintance, and I knew that I had another supporter on the Council. As long as I was a useful ally, at least.

The other new face on the stage was a woman I’d only seen once before, and never with my own eyes. She was younger than anyone else by decades; I’d estimate that either the lord justice Alster or the lord militant was the next youngest, and I had them pegged at a well-preserved fifties. The lady provisioner Vassaram, in contrast, was around Zabra’s age; somewhere between her late twenties to early thirties. She looked out of place; she’d’ve been considered young in Parliament, never mind on a small ruling body like this. And it wasn’t just her age that made her instantly stand out, either. She was the only one there who couldn’t disguise her fear.

Not that I blamed her. I was fearsome.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about Lady Vassaram. Or Lilianna, as Zabra called her. I remembered vaguely that Zabra had wanted to meet with her privately, but I didn’t know what had happened with that. An oversight on my part; I should have talked to Zabra about it, even if I hadn’t expected her to be on the Council already. It would have been good to know something about her when I had the opportunity.

Ah, well. Couldn’t be helped. I’d just have to feel her out myself.

In the middle of the Council, as always, sat the lord speaker Berkia. He’d been waiting for me to get settled, and now he spoke. He wasn’t nervous, and he certainly wasn’t afraid, but there was a healthy dose of apprehension in his voice. And just like with the lady provisioner, I couldn’t blame him or anyone else for feeling apprehensive. This was the second army I’d destroyed, after all. “Lady Draka,” he said. “Thank you for coming.” Then he smiled a little bit sheepishly. He looked very grandfatherly when he did that. “Although you did ask for this meeting, so I suppose that was to be expected. Would you like to get to the matter at hand immediately?”

“If it’s all the same to you, Lord Speaker, I’d like to do introductions first.”

“Certainly. I see you’ve brought a young man with you. And by his closeness to the young lady Drakonum, I imagine there is some connection there.” Then he turned to listen to Sarvalian, whose mouth moved soundlessly. He nodded, then did something with the hidden controls by his seat. The air shimmered around the lord militant.

“Thank you, lord speaker,” Sarvalian said, then leaned forward to look down at my two companions. “Maglan, right? Archer and sometime messenger. I was told that you were injured defending the camp, then taken into Lady Draka’s care. It’s good to see you well, son.”

“Ah… yes, General. Lord Militant, I mean,” Maglan stammered. “Yes on all counts. Thank you.”

The lord militant nodded, then leaned back.

The lord speaker took that as meaning that Sarvalian was done. “You’re already familiar with the lord militant, of course. And beside the lord commander, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, is the newest member of our Council. Only confirmed by vote yesterday evening, I should add, so the news is not public yet. Lady Provisioner Vassaram, please introduce yourself to our guests.”

The air shimmered around her, and despite her nerves the lady provisioner was admirably quick to react. She had a faint Tavannarian accent, which I remembered from the auction — like someone who’d lived abroad for a long time, and picked up just a few elements of the local dialect. “Young Lady Drakonum. Maglan,” she said quickly, with the slightest bow in their direction. Then she turned her attention fully back to me. “Lady Draka. I am, as the lord speaker just said, Lady Vassaram Lilianna, Lady Provisioner of the Council of Karakan. I’ve heard much about you, as has everyone, it seems, on both sides of the Sarey. Since being brought up for consideration for this seat, I’ve been surprised to find how much was true, and how much was fancy. In Tavvanar, I admit I thought there must be some insidious plot in place. Since returning to the city of my birth, however, hearing from the people here directly about you, about your human companions, and about your… cousin, is it? The brass dragon who roams the city. Most of what I’ve heard paints a picture of a— of someone who genuinely desires for this city to thrive. Not selflessly, perhaps. I understand your motivation to be the safety and comfort of your companions. But still.” Then she blushed slightly, lowering her eyes, and said. “Apologies. I’m rambling. What I meant to say is that it’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Draka, and your companions.”

“And you,” I replied. “I’ll admit I don’t know much about you. You returned from Tavvanar to take over your House’s estates here, right?”

“That’s correct. And it’s more than I expected you to know about me, if I’m to be honest.”

“Oh, I think I heard it through Lady Tespril,” I said. A fib inside a literal truth — I wondered how Lady Justice Sempralia’s sense of truth would handle that. The older councillor didn’t react at all, so I couldn’t tell. Vassaram, though, couldn’t hide her reaction. At the auction she’d worn a cold, inflexible mask to separate her from the world, but that wasn’t her. It was a shield, one which had broken when Zabra pushed back at her attempt to avoid a conversation. Here, facing me, she didn’t even try. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open slightly — not in dismay, but in genuine and simple surprise.

“You know Lady Tespril?”

“Zabra and Kesra, yeah,” I replied cheerfully. “They’re friends of our House. They were fostered with you, right? Before you left for Tavvanar?”

“Right,” she replied weakly.

“Small world. Now, let’s get into it, shall we? I was in Happar recently. Tekeretek decided to land a few thousand troops there, so I gathered a few friends and sent them running. Or sailing, I suppose. Now: how did that happen, and how can you stop another attempt?”

The air around the entire Council shimmered, and suddenly I could hear all manner of sounds. Soft coughs, softer conversation, shuffling, the scratch of pen on paper; things that I’d never have noticed if not for their absence until that moment. “Let us make this an open discussion,” the lord speaker said. “It seems that Lady Admiral Yakamo wishes to begin. Lady Admiral?”

“Despite our victory, our navy is too badly damaged to patrol as far from our shores as I’d like,” Yakamo stated with her customary bluntness. “We’re stretched thin as it is, and the civilian ships we’ve pressed into service can’t make up for the shortfall. The Tekereteki sailed around, avoiding the regular routes in favor of one that took them far to the south and allowed them to approach from the south-west. We recently had word from some Gueri merchant ships that spotted them, but by then they were already established. We need more ships, and the crews to sail them. That’s all there is to it.”

“If the lady admiral will not dress up the situation, then neither will I,” Sarvalian said. “Based on the first reports I’ve seen of the size of the Tekereteki force, we would have been hard pressed to keep them from taking Happar. If we could rely on the remains of the Happaran army then we could have likely driven them back, but I wouldn’t trust the Happarans not to switch sides the moment battle was joined. Not for another year, at least. We know for a fact that Tekeretek can afford to lose a force of the size that Lady Draka and her allies destroyed. Counting mercenaries and auxiliaries, their army is anywhere between a hundred and a hundred and fifty thousand strong. Losing five thousand, as our reports put them at, will be painful, but it will barely weaken them. If they commit fully, and if they have the ships, then we cannot hold them back on our own. We need our allies.”

“Our allies, indeed,” Lord Exchequer Soandel scoffed with such derision that no one, not even the lady justice, could have possibly suspected how hard he’d once worked on sabotaging Karakan’s relationship with those allies. “They’ve been making all manner of reconciliatory noises now that we’ve subjugated Happar and driven Tekeretek from our shores, but if the war starts back up in earnest, does anyone truly believe that they will offer any more support than they did during the past several months? I think not! No, the only allies we’ve been able to rely on are Lady Draka and her kin!”

“Oh, you would say that!” the lord hierophant hissed, but didn’t get a chance to elaborate before the lord speaker raised his voice.

“Lord Hierophant,” Berkia said, “I must ask you to refrain from personal attacks. Do you have any arguments to counter the lord exchequer’s claim?”’

“Only that in aligning ourselves with dragons, we exchange foreign subjugation for willing submission!”

“Submission?!” Lady Admiral Yakamo spat. “Tell me, Lord Hierophant, what decrees have Lady Draka made? What tribute has she demanded? None! She’s received just and negotiated compensation. We’ve paid her less than we have the Grey Wolves, and for arguably greater benefit!”

In the silence that followed, the new lady provisioner spoke up. “If I may?” She waited a moment to see if anyone would object; no one did. “I did not return until Happar had already surrendered,” she said. “That gave me ample opportunity to keep abreast of the attitude in Tavvanar regarding our city, on all levels of society. I can tell you this: commoners, the wealthy, and even city lords and ladies, they all have one thing in common. Most of them despise us. They see us as an ungrateful backwater, grown wealthy beyond our natural means off their largesse. Colleagues on the Council, honored guests, I tell you: Lord Soandel is right. We cannot expect help from the League. If Karakan wishes to survive as an independent city, we must formally ally with the only ones who’ve shown willingness to help us.”

If Nahasia had disliked Soandel’s comments, he was sent into stammering outrage as Vassaram spoke. I ignored his noise in favor of meeting the lady provisioner’s gaze, smiling silently.

I could see us becoming the best of friends, Lilianna and I.

Draka is never going to beat the allegations at this rate.