(He was not court-martialled. I did, however, later take the precaution of securing him a pardon.)
My brother’s act of benevolent sabotage bought me vital breathing space. At the time I thought it would only give me more opportunity to work on Dorson, persuading him to see the Draconeans as people instead of beasts, and perhaps even convincing him that Scirland must work to protect the Sanctuary from being overrun. Unfortunately, I suspected I would need a good deal more time than Andrew could give me. Dorson seemed willing enough not to kill the Draconeans… but I had very little faith that the Sanctuary would not wind up a possession of the Scirling Crown, its inhabitants treated as little more than exotic animals—possibly even put into a menagerie. And I could not see how to prevent that from happening.
“If I’d had a chance to prepare the ground outside,” I said to Tom in frustration. I had explained to him the plan the elders and I had formulated—a plan that was now shredded beyond all recognition. “But without public sentiment prepared, what is there to stop the army and the Crown from doing exactly as they please?”
Tom shook his head. “I don’t know. Dorson… he isn’t a bad sort in his own way, but he’ll put this whole place under military control, and be convinced he’s doing what’s best for everyone involved.”
“Which will only persuade Urrte and Esdarr and their ilk that the humans must be fought,” I said. “God help us all.”
“You need leverage,” Tom said. “But damned if I can see any.”
My one comfort was that I was permitted to go freely between the caeliger camp and Imsali. The remainder of the council would not be there for days yet, and nothing could be decided until they arrived; in the meanwhile, I could see my husband and Thu.
Though both men were still considered hostages, they were not being kept in close straits. Suhail spent every waking moment studying the Draconean language, pausing only for his five daily prayers—an activity he pursued with more diligence than usual, on account of his tremendous gratitude for my survival. Thu was at somewhat looser ends, and frustrated that he could not speak directly with his Khiam Siu brethren. Two days after the landing, I had a question for him.
“Your countrymen seem very eager to meet the Draconeans,” I said. The three of us were in the house of Ruzt, Kahhe, and Zam, which no longer seemed half so stifling to me, now that Suhail was there. “It could be simple curiosity, of course—but it doesn’t seem to be. I don’t suppose you have any idea why?”
He’d had no opportunity to speak with them yet, but it was clear he had been thinking about the matter. “If they are like me, they are thinking this is a very good…” He paused and looked at Suhail, who supplied him with the word he had forgotten. “Omen, yes. A good omen for the Khiam cause.”
My knowledge of Dajin dragons was still woefully patchy, and I knew even less of how the Yelangese interacted with the creatures, owing to my premature deportation from that country a decade before. I did recall one point, though, which might be salient. “Because dragons are an imperial symbol?” Then I made several connections, quite rapidly. “Good Lord. Dragons are an imperial symbol… and the Taisên have been slaughtering theirs for their bones.”
Thu nodded. “We say the first emperor of Yelang was able to unify the country because he had the blessing of the dragons. This is why they have always kept dragons, and given them so much respect. For the Taisên to kill them is very shocking.”
“And for the Khiam Siu to encounter them en route to planning an invasion is fortuitous. Half dragons, anyway.”
At my addendum, Thu’s eyes widened. “You have thought of something,” I said. “Is it useful?”
He did not answer me directly. Instead, choosing each word very carefully, he said, “In some versions of the tale, it is said that the dragons could take human form.”
We all fell silent. It was the type of silence that seems almost clairvoyant, where no one speaks because it is apparent that everyone else is already following the same path of thought, and a mere cock of the head or lift of the hand is enough to communicate the next point. Finally Thu said, “If Giat Jip-hau—”
“We’d have to get him here, first,” I said morosely. “And that would take months.”
Thu looked startled. “Is he not with the soldiers? I would not expect him to sit back and let others lead the way.”
“He—” I stopped, blinking. I had met Giat Jip-hau in Scirland, during those interminable diplomatic events, though I had not spoken to him above twice. He looked very different in the rough garb of a Mrtyahaiman expedition, with his facial hair grown to a thin scruff.
The would-be emperor of Yelang was in the caeliger camp that very moment.
And now I had a very good idea of why Dorson was so reluctant to allow any of the Khiam Siu to speak with the Draconeans. Suhail said, “Do you think you could arrange a meeting?”
“From the Draconean side, yes,” I said. “I’m sure Kuvrey and Sejeat and Habarz would be willing. But from the Scirling side? Dorson will see it as an attempt to usurp his role.” Which, in all fairness, it would be.
“Then don’t tell him,” Suhail said.
Even after a winter among the Draconeans, I could not always read their expressions and body language reliably. The three sisters, yes; their mannerisms were deeply familiar to me. The elders, however, were another matter. I therefore did not realize, until I suggested the meeting with Giat Jip-hau, that Kuvrey, Sejeat, and Habarz had taken a strong dislike to Colonel Dorson.
“We would like to speak to someone else,” Kuvrey said, when she heard my proposal. I did not think it was my imagination that I read her words as understatement. All of Dorson’s words went through me, and I did what I could to polish them, but by now the Draconeans had enough sense of human body language that they might well be able to detect his perpetual air of condescension. Even while negotiating a treaty, Dorson seemed as if he were speaking to a group of particularly clever animals, which could not possibly go over well.
Back I went to the caeliger landing meadow, for a hushed conversation with Tom and Andrew. “I think I can resolve this situation in a way that will work out to everyone’s benefit—but it requires me to get at least Giat Jip-hau out of the camp without Dorson noticing. Better if it is him and some of his countrymen, but him at a minimum.”
Andrew chewed on his lower lip. “I could make some kind of diversion—light something on fire, perhaps—”
“No!” I reared back in alarm, then made myself relax. If anyone saw us, we must not look like we were plotting conspiracy. (Even if we were. Especially because we were.) “You’ve already put your neck out far enough, Andrew. I don’t want to see you in front of a firing squad.”
“Dorson wouldn’t do that,” my brother scoffed, but all the confidence in the world would not have persuaded me to risk him in that fashion.
Tom said, “What about the Draconeans? If some of them wanted to meet with Dorson—”
“I would be needed as their interpreter. Which means I would not then be there to interpret for the Khiam Siu.” Given time we did not have, Suhail might have been able to share that duty with me—but there were limits even to my husband’s capacity for learning.
Tom had seen the flaw as quickly as I had. He nodded. “Nighttime, then. When most of the camp is asleep.” He hesitated, then said, “We could make certain they sleep. All of them, except the Khiam Siu. I still have quite a lot of laudanum.”
The prospect made me blanch. “That is nearly as bad as Andrew’s suggestion. They would know it was you, Tom—or they would blame the Khiam Siu for drugging them. No, we simply need the sentries to look the other way for a brief time.”