Valbore (Tasks of the Nakairi Book 1) Read online

  He showed me the facilities and informed me a servant would bring a tray with dinner in an hour. A seamstress would arrive in the morning.

  "Wait! Can you tell me something about this place? Anything?" Dragos had been nice but my panic bubbled under the surface.

  He forced a thin smile. Durra was polite but not friendly and had the charm of a snake. "The High-Lord of Therys accepted you as his ward. It's not surprising. The dragonlords worship the Goddess and she always brings the Nakairi. The High-Lord sent orders for watchers to bring anyone or anything coming through the portals here."

  "Dragonlords?" Confused images of Vikings and their dragon iconography passed through my mind.

  He sighed with impatience. "Skin-changers. Some say they harbor two souls, one of a man and one of a dragon. They came to this world thousands of years ago. Now, they have an empire based on an island west of here, in the center of the Blue Sea.

  "A few years ago, the King of Therys died. Poisoned. A group of commoners and merchants took advantage of the chaos and factional fighting to take over. They knew whoever the winner was, it would be bad for everyone but the nobility. Since they had neither the desire nor the skills to rule they asked the Drakken Empire for help. Everyone knows dragonlords are trustworthy, honorable, and fearsome fighters. Drakken sent Lords Gonturan, Shalatu, Haradis, Torabreth, Hanlieth, and Istanetlu. Lord Gonturan is the High-Lord."

  His head dipped briefly. "As I said, a seamstress will be here in the morning. What you have is sufficient for road travel, but this is the palace and you are a lady. The High-Lord has put his faith in you. Try not to let him down."

  As he swept out of the room, I felt like a fish out of water much as I did when I first went into a foster home and then again, when they tossed me out at age eighteen. I wasn't just out of water this time though. I was in a desert and there wasn't a drop of water in sight.

  Dragos: 9th of Harvest, 3837

  Dragos watched the poor waif follow Durra out of his office and felt sorry for her. She was a lovely, delicate creature with the dark hair and golden skin common to both Nakairi and Aria Atlani, and big amber eyes. She had the air of someone in pain, and it disturbed him. He didn't believe being torn away from everything she had ever known by the Goddess was the cause, but the thought didn't comfort him. The Goddess's Tasks were never easy and they rarely led to happiness for the Nakairu. He hoped she was one of those who found joy.

  A voice came from behind. "Are you sure about this, Dragos?" Kaio sounded doubtful. "She looks to be another mouse. Are you sure the Goddess brought her here for a reason?"

  Dragos sat down and looked up at his friend, not surprised he had gone unnoticed until now. Kaio had a facility with shadows and illusions. It was the one bit of magic he was better at than anyone else. He could go unseen and unheard, or make you see what wasn't there. Kaio's bit of temper at Sara was predictable too. He had always been more volatile than his peers, allowing his dragon soul too much free rein. It alarmed the locals. All dragonlords did to a degree since people could sense the predator in them, but with Kaio, it was more obvious. Kaio's sharp mind and sharp tongue may have had something to do with it. He had little patience.

  "She always does, Kaio. Do you forget how we came to this world? It may have been a long time ago, but we know there were other survivors elsewhere. The Goddess brings them here as she needs them. This may not be the Goddess's original home, but she cares what happens here. The Goddess requires Lady Sara's presence and I will aid her to the best of my ability. If it helps any, she's smarter than she appears. She may surprise you."

  Kaio: 9th of Harvest, 3837

  Kaio stalked down the hallway towards his own office. The woman's arrival disturbed him. He had grown up on the stories of Nakairi and their Tasks just as Dragos had. The Goddess brought them to perform Tasks no one else could do, so what could the little mouse do that was so important? What could the Goddess need her for? He had enough to deal with he didn't need more trouble.

  As Dragos' spymaster, it was Kaio's duty to tease out all the little plots and secrets their enemies tried to keep hidden. Therys' position wasn't good. To put it bluntly, it was surrounded. An aggressive Vallen to the north and Vallen's allies Corthis and Derrelat to the south bracketed the country. The Karthim territories on their eastern border spawned invasions of cannibalistic tribesmen every few years. The pirates frequenting the coastline to the west completed the enclosure. It also gave Vallen easy access to the Therysi capital. The only real ally was Drakken, who was out of reach in a crisis except by dragon.

  The Waste provided a counterbalance. It lay between Therys and Vallen along most of what otherwise would have been a long shared border. It protected them better than armies or scouts. The Waste was a circular area of dry wasteland and ruins left over from the Accuser Wars, large enough to be a country in its own right and inimical to life.

  Nothing lived in the region and anyone spending too long there sickened and died. The bodies did not rot, they dessicated. Animals knew better than to wander into those lands. They could sense the wrongness. Only men were stupid enough to ignore their instincts. An army wouldn't be able to cross without magical means to speed their progress. Such an outpouring of energy would light them up like a beacon and leave their forces drained at the end of the journey. Kaio doubted any general would be stupid enough to try it.

  Unfortunately, pirates, cannibals, Vallen, and its allies weren't the only problems to concern Kaio. The factions contesting for power when the dragonlords took over weren't dead. They waited for the slightest weakness to manifest. There were always small, petty plots aimed at gaining an advantage, over either the dragonlords or each other.

  Not that Therys had ever been anything but toxic since its inception over six hundred years ago. Theryn, its founder, was a bandit, traitor, warlord, pirate, and patricide. The lords descended from his lieutenants and henchmen. Their greed and violence beat the people into submission. These days, the soldiers defended their homeland because they had nowhere else to go and it provided them with the means to buy food for their families, not for any loyalty to their leaders.

  The assassination of the last of Theryn's line had started a factional fight to the death for power. The people saw their chance to change their lot and took it. The dragonlords had the support of the people, the army, and the merchants. As for the lords — the political life of the palace was cutthroat.

  Which led him right back to the mouse. The lords would want to use her against them.

  He stopped cold at the thought. Even after two years, he still wasn't used to the differences in mindset here. Of course, they wouldn't. She was a woman. In the eyes of the lords, women were little better than animals. He growled at the thought. It made him almost as uneasy as the idea they would use Sara as a tool.

  He snorted and continued towards his office. Sara was still a disruption. Why couldn't the Goddess have waited until Dragos could tame the lords at least a little?

  Sara: 10th of Harvest, 3837

  The evening before had been quiet, punctuated by a hot bath and a servant arriving with dinner. The girl was quiet and found looking people in the eye as difficult as I did. She finally looked up when I said thank you. I smiled and received a small smile and a whispered response that wasn't clear enough to understand. She dipped a bow and left. Despite her quick abandonment, I felt a flush of warmth. She hadn't ignored me. She had even been nice in her own way. She had smiled… sort of.

  The knot of anxiety loosened. Maybe, if everyone was as nice as Dragos and the maid had been, this place would be okay. I was still having a hard time wrapping my head around the reality that I had lost my scars. My mind balked at imagining how it could have happened.

  That night, I cracked the window for fresh air before going to bed. It was my first chance to see the night sky here. I looked up, hoping for some bit of familiarity. Instead, I received yet another shock to my sense of reality. Two small moons were in the sky accompanied by something tha
t made me gape in wonder. Rings. They weren't as extensive as Saturn's, but they swept across the heavens in pale arcs that made the sky a marvel.

  After looking at the sky for a few minutes, I realized I had hit my limit on weird. I went to bed. For once, I didn't have nightmares. Perhaps my mind was too busy processing everything I had experienced over the past few days.

  The next morning another servant girl came with breakfast and helped brush out my hair. This one was a little braver than the previous evening's maid had been but still kept to her duties. I thanked her and she rewarded me with a real smile this time. She informed me the seamstress was due to arrive in an hour.

  The seamstress was as chill as Durra had been. She arrived with a stack of pretty gowns in several sizes and a large selection of fabric and trim samples. After she had taken my measurements with a knotted cord, she picked one out of the pile and ordered me to change into it. The gown was a bright, rich, cobalt blue that was pretty and fit well enough, but was a few inches too short and far too garish to me. As she tacked a length of wide trim to the bottom of the dress to lengthen it, she discussed gowns.

  I'm not sure 'discussed' was the proper word for it. I didn't have much say in the matter. She told me the style I would wear and tried to tell me what colors to choose. She pushed me to choose all bright colors. I was uncomfortable with that and balked, but she wouldn't let it go. "You will need a mate or a protector. To get one you need to be attractive. Choose the jewel green, it would look well on you."

  Two hours of her pushy sniping was all I could stand. I chose gray, two shades of brown, a gray-blue, and a moss green. After that, I refused to talk to her anymore. Those bright colors would make my lack of beauty more obvious. Besides, I didn't want attention. Attention hurt. It always hurt — one way or another.

  The gown Torin gave me was missing when I went looking for it so I had no choice about wearing the bright blue one. I felt as if I was wearing a neon 'Look at me!' sign. I couldn't hide in my room though. The maid who had brought me breakfast came to show me to the dining hall for lunch. The tarred socks were missing too, leaving me barefoot. Fortunately, the day was hot so it wasn't uncomfortable. Yet. My feet had no callus at all so the stone floors would start to hurt soon. My legs had yet to stop hurting from the long ride.

  The dining hall was a large oblong room with windows along the two long walls. Banners the same creamy color as the walls swept from the centerline of the ceiling to either side, anchoring on the long walls above the windows. It gave the room a tent-like feeling. Since the walls were stone, I assumed they were for noise reduction as much as for decoration.

  The far end of the room held a table on a dais raised a step or two flanked by two plain doors. Long tables filled the remaining space with a broad aisle down the center. Those tables closest to the high table had backless chairs with arms. Those farther away had benches.

  The servant girl led me to a seat at the far left end of the high table. From the noises I could hear coming from the door tucked in the corner, I gathered that the kitchens were on the other side of the wall.

  People were filing into the room and I got more than a few speculative looks. Most of them were the short type with the light coloring. There were also a few shorter, darker skinned people with gray-toned hair. I couldn't be sure from this distance but I didn't think it was age-related. Women went to one set of tables and men went to another. The women got the benches. Finally, Dragos led in a handful of others who looked similar enough to be kin. Dragonlords.

  There were five of them, including Dragos. Two of them stood out. The first because of how strikingly handsome he was despite his sharp features, and the second because of how scary he looked. Handsome had deep bronze skin, long wavy black hair pulled up into a ponytail on top of his head, high cheekbones, brilliant purple eyes that almost glowed. He was tall, lean, graceful, and good-looking enough to make a GQ model feel inadequate. Scary had short black hair shaved along the sides of his head to show off a series of ragged scars on his forehead, the left side of his head, and left cheek. He looked as if he had lost a fight with a cougar. In addition, He had broken his nose multiple times. His eyes were the same flat black of a shark's eyes. The other two were less noticeable. One had electric blue eyes and short black hair and the other had amber eyes a little lighter than my own with deep brown hair down to his shoulders.

  Blue Eyes and the Brunette sat on the far side of Dragos. Handsome sat next to him on this side, and Scary sat between Handsome and me. Just my luck.

  Scary gave me a long sour frown, grumbled wordlessly, then ignored me.

  I recognized nothing served so I took a little of everything. Most things were tasty, others I didn't care for. None of it calmed the roiling in my stomach from nerves. Sitting next to a shark didn't help. The shark may have been ignoring me but he was still a shark and while he ignored me, others didn't. Several men at the other tables spent too much time staring at me, never a good thing in my experience. Some of the women stared too, and their expressions weren't friendly. I felt grateful when lunch finally ended.

  At least, I was until Dragos tapped me on the shoulder and murmured, "Follow me." The fact he had been nice so far helped. That he had promised to explain what was going on helped too. He was still a predator though.

  He led me to a smallish, sunny room lined with books. Several comfortable looking chairs ringed a low table in the center of the room. "This is my private library. You are welcome to come here whenever you wish unless I'm holding a meeting here. There's a larger library open to all of those in the palace as well but it's terrible. The kings of Therys were never scholars and did little to support such endeavors. I suspect that the sole reason he created the library was so he could show off the number of books he had, a measure of status and wealth, rather than knowledge. There's a good chance that most of the book were actually stolen."

  He seated me in one a chair before sprawling in another. His head tipped as he regarded me. "I know that all of this is alarming to you. Dragonlords aren't the most comfortable people to be around even in a good mood. You sense the dragon in us. You needn't worry though." His eyes twinkled in humor. "Dragons don't eat people. None of us would ever harm you. You are safe with us."

  He paused with a gentle smile. "To be honest, you remind me of a pet bilitu named Santa that I had as a child. When I first got her, she was shy and never came out when anyone else was around. She feared everything. Once she knew she was safe, she became quite bold — for a shy bilitu. I was rather fond of her and grieved when she died. Her eyes were almost the same color as yours."

  The roiling in my stomach settled as he spoke. "You paid Torin for me."

  He nodded assent. "Yes, I did in a way. I have agents near each of the old gates closest to Therysal with orders to bring anything that comes through here to the palace safely. The gold I paid Torin was his payment for doing his duty. It was also to compensate him for his expenses; the cost of renting the keth to ride, the hire of the men to help guard you, the fares of the inns, the clothing, and his time away from his family. It all cost Torin and it didn't seem fair to make him shoulder those costs on my behalf. I can afford it better than he can."

  "Oh." That made sense. It also spoke well of him if it were true. "How did you give me your language?" The shock of the previous night had faded, leaving questions about what happened.

  "I used magic. That spell is difficult so there aren't many who can do it. All of the mind magics are. The mind is a complex and fragile thing. Few have the power and delicacy of control needed. Fortunately, I was a careful and diligent student. General Istanetlu can do it too but he isn't available right now."

  Magic wasn't real, yet I couldn't discount it. I learned the local language in a minute or two, my amputated foot and fingers had returned, and all the other damage Carlos had caused was wiped away. This wasn't my world. Looking out the window the previous night had made that plain. Maybe magic did exist — here.

  "What is this p
lace called?" I looked down so I could focus. Those raptor eyes of his made me nervous.

  "Ah. This world is Eperu. The country you arrived in is Therys. Therys is one of several countries on the eastern shores of the Blue Sea. We are in its capital, Therysal. Those who sat at the high table are dragonlords from Drakken. The local people come from two ethnic groups, the pale Ansoren, which means the children of the sun, and the darker Dogaren, which means Shib's children. "

  Huh? "Shib's children? Dogaren and Shib have no similarity at all."

  He laughed. "I know. Shib and Hyush were the names the Aria Atlani used for them." He paused in thought. "I guess I never realized how much knowledge we take for granted. Shib is the gray moon and Hyush is the red one. The original names for the moons are long lost. Between the Mage-King's Empire and the Drakkeni Empire, the new names became ubiquitous. Someone somewhere might still know what the original names were though. The natives call the Dogaren Shib's children because of their gray hair and eyes. There were also Hyush's children known for their blood-red hair once. The local stories claim they were destroyed when they turned away from their god. You still see people with fire colored hair among the Ansoren that may be their descendants but they're rare."

  I looked up to see him regarding my bare feet in perplexity. "No shoes?"

  I blushed in shame and curled my toes, tucking them back under the hem of my gown. "No, sir. The tarred socks that Torin gave me were missing when lunchtime came."

  "And you have no other shoes." His expression turned sympathetic when I shook my head. "I'll look into it."

  His expression became thoughtful and my mind rummaged for a way to avoid him asking questions about my previous life or me. I didn't trust him enough yet to answer and I got the feeling that lying to him would be a bad idea. Therefore, I changed the subject. "My world doesn't have magic."