It almost let her forget the fires of war poised to consume their lives and leave only ashes.
The second day of their ride passed like the first. Allegra remained under the hostile gaze of the captain as they crossed the Rocklands. The sun beat down on terracelike formations stepping endlessly across the desert, and the broken land sweltered.
That night, they camped beneath rocky peaks where the Citadel of the Dragon-Sun sat high above the desert. On the third and fourth days, they forged through low mountains. In the evening of the fourth day, they reached the great basin that for more than a thousand years had served as home to the ancient city of Quaaz.
A harsh voice woke Allegra. She lifted her head in the dark, groggy and confused. Markus lay at her side, his front to her back, his arm around her waist. She thought he was sleeping, but then he said, “Did you hear someone?
“I think so, she said.
He rose to his feet, looming over her, dressed in his pants and boots. As she pulled on her tunic, the flap of the tent swayed. Light filtered through the walls, and the smoky tang of a torch drifted to her. Markus had just taken a step forward when the grizzled captain fastened up the flap and entered the tent. Despite the late hour, he wore full armor and chain mailand he had his sword drawn. The torchlight outside glinted on the blade.
“Come with us, the captain said. “Both of you.
Sweat gathered on Allegras hands, though the air felt chilly. Her pulse raced as she stood up by the pallet.
“Go where? Markus asked. He stood with his arms by his sides, ready to fight. Bare-handed, he faced an armored man with a sword, and more armed warriors stood outside, visible in the torchlight. Allegra came up to him, and he put back his hand, stopping her.
“You will come with us, the captain repeated. “Now.
“On whose orders? Markus asked.
The captains face clenched, and he jerked his hand in a signal. Nine men entered the tent. Markus pulled Allegra to his side, his arms protectively around her, and she held him around the waist, her fingers clenched on his belt. They stood half-dressed and unarmed in the midst of ten Chamberlight warriors in full battle dress with their swords drawn.
The captain stepped toward them.
“Well go! Markus said. He kept his arm around her shoulders as they stepped forward, and she held on to his waist, half-awake and bewildered. The soldiers swept them out of the tent. The rocky ground stabbed her bare feet, and icy starlight frosted the camp. The Chamberlight men led them past dark tents until they reached a large one where the light inside turned the walls silver.
“Wait here, the captain said. Allegra thought if a mans voice could have become a weapon, his would have stabbed Markus. He disappeared into the tent, but reappeared almost immediately and motioned to them. She stumbled as they entered the tent, and Markus tried to catch her as she fell. She landed on one knee with a cry. In the muted silence, even that small noise sounded loud.
“Get up, the captain said.
“Help her, for saints sake, a man said.
As Markus helped Allegra to her feet, she strained to see who had spoken. It sounded like Jarid. Smoke drifted from the torches and curled around many people in the tent, stinging her eyes after the dry, chill air outside. The guards prodded her forward. Markus walked with his arm around her shoulders, and she had both of hers around his waist. With the two of them bleary-eyed and confused, she didnt see how anyone could think they posed a danger.
As her eyes adjusted, she saw Jarid sitting on a heavy chest. Her relief was short-lived, for Cobalt was behind him, pacing back and forth. Other men stood around the tent. Some were Chamberlight officers, but most were Aronsdale. Many of the Aronsdale officers looked strange, though. Something was wrong with their uniforms.
One man in particular caught her attention. He was standing by a tent pole, his arms crossed. Although she had never seen him before, she knew him. He had the yellow hair, blue eyes and graceful build common in southwestern Aronsdale. The same traits people called “angelic in the women, they tended to call “too pretty in men, but she doubted anyone would use those words for this warrior. He wore armor, a burnished breastplate and glinting mail. Gray streaked his hair, and his face had the character of a man who had endured much in his life and survived.
He wore no insignia to indicate his rank. Instead a jaguar emblazoned his breastplate. She didnt understand why someone in the Dawnfield colors wore a jaguar. It was, she realized, why some of the other officers looked strange. Their armor bore a jaguar instead of the crossed swords of Aronsdale.
Markus stopped in the middle of the tent with his arms around Allegra. “What do you want with us? he said.
Cobalt pointed to a low chest. “Sit.
As Allegra sat on the chest with Markus, sweat beaded on her forehead. She pulled her tunic farther down over her thighs, painfully aware that she was the only woman in the tent.
Another Chamberlight man strode inside, and someone else pushed another person after hima boy.
Ozarson.
The atajazid tripped on the rug exactly as Allegra had done and stumbled forward. He was wearing the soft black trousers and shirt he slept in, and his curls were tousled all over his head. He stared around with wide eyes.
The guard shoved Ozarson down onto the carpet next to the chest where Markus sat. Kneeling, the boy stared up at the towering guard, then turned a bewildered gaze to his brother. Markus put his arm around Ozarsons shoulders and sat holding him and Allegra, looking around at the gathered warlords. The grizzled captain and two other men stood behind them with their swords drawn.
A child cried somewhere deeper in the tent. It sounded like a baby or a toddler, perhaps one or two years old.
“What the hell? Markus said.
The man with gold hair spoke curtly. “You would know. Youve created your share of hells.
The child whimpered, and a woman murmured to it in the shadows behind the officers. Allegra tried to peer into the darkness back there, but she could only catch a glimmer of light. A gauze drape hung between this main area and whatever lay beyond.
Cobalt came over to them and stared at Ozarson. “So, the emperor said coldly. “Not only are you a Shadow-Dragon King, it seems you now also rule Taka Mal.
Ozarson looked up at him, his mouth opening.
Satisfaction flickered on Markuss face. “Then your armies were too late. Quaaz has fallen.
Saints almighty. It had happened? In all the epics, the rescuing army galloped onto the scene just in time to save the beleaguered heroes. They werent supposed to arrive too late, after the enemy had already won.
Fast on the heels of that thought came another: Where was the royal family? The warrior with gold hair and the jaguar on his breastplate couldnt be Drummer Headwind. Drummer was younger than the queen, who was in her mid-thirties. This man looked fifty. He wore Dawnfield colors, but with the wrong emblem.
Then it hit Allegra: This was Muller Dawnfield, the king of Harsdown. Jarids cousin. He wore the Harsdown jaguar, which had once symbolized Cobalts throne. Cobalts father had attacked Aronsdale and lost, and in doing so, he had lost his throne to the House of Dawnfield. Now Muller claimed the jaguar.
The gauze at the back rippled and a woman stalked forward with feral grace. She was the most furiously beautiful person Allegra had ever seen. Wild black curls tumbled around her face and shoulders, disarrayed as if she had been riding in the wind. Her upward-tilted eyes were huge and black, and fierce with anger. She wore the riding trousers of a Zanterian merchant, the suede dyed a rich crimson. Her red jerkin had a fringe with ruby balls, and gold rings hung from her ears. In the sheath on her belt, a dagger glinted with a topaz in its hilt. She came to stand in front of Markus, and he watched her with recognition.