Agent of the Dragon
Chapter 13

Rhysa stayed by Elise’s bedside for a long time. She didn’t know how long, and was only dimly aware of people checking on her. Face buried in her hands, tears trickling down her arms, shoulders wracked with sobs, Rhysa nursed the pain the past couple of days had brought. Time passed in a fog.

Faintly, Rhysa heard a soft whisper. “Rhysa, love, I’m still here.”

Keeping her face in her hands, Rhysa choked. “I know, ’Lise, I know. It’s just...too much. I’m lost.” She got up to stand next to her friend.

“Now you’re the one who looks like hell.”

Rhysa laughed weakly, wiped her eyes with the base of her hand, and sniffed. “No doubt.”

“You know I want you around, but I’m sure you have things that need your attention. I’ll be all right, here.”

“I know. They’ve stabilized you. But it will be a long time before you can be active again.”

Elise gave the faintest of nods. “I’m sure of it. But I will get there eventually.”

“Count on it. Thank you.” Having mastered herself, Rhysa leaned over and gently kissed Elise on the forehead. Then she turned to find Lord or Lady Hermestus.

She stopped abruptly when she saw Crysta standing just inside the closed door. Rhysa saw a trail of tears on the girl’s face. Rhysa raised her eyebrows. “You may be a novice apprentice, but you seem to have picked up unobtrusiveness quickly.”

Crysta nodded and swallowed; her voice came out slightly thick. “I’m to show you to where Lord and Lady Hermestus are.”

Rhysa nodded and gestured with a smile. “Lead on, then.”

The halls were much quieter now, and Crysta quickly led Rhysa to Lord and Lady Hermestus’ private sitting room. Crysta announced Rhysa and dipped a curtsey to the room in general before leaving and shutting the door behind her. Rhysa turned to face the room after watching Crysta leave.

Lord and Lady Hermestus were there. So was Lord Amonteus, still pale but no longer in shock--and Prince Hallyk. To cover her surprise, Rhysa curtsied. When she raised her head, Lords Hermestus and Amonteus, and Lady Hermestus looked amused. Prince Hallyk rolled his eyes in mock exasperation and grinned.

“Have a seat, Rhysa.” Lord Hermestus indicated a chair that completed the circle of people. Praying her legs wouldn’t fold, Rhysa walked to the chair and took her place in the circle.

When Rhysa was settled, Hallyk spoke with no trace of amusement or teasing. “Rhysa. I know this has been a hard day for you. I’m afraid it’s not over yet.”

Rhysa glanced at the window; the room and its occupants were reflected in the glass. It was night. She returned her attention to Hallyk.

“The death of Amelia Kasteryn is tragic, and a blow to the kingdom. In a will she filed last week, she listed you as her heir.” He paused to let Rhysa absorb this information. When she nodded, he continued. “We can go over more of the implications tomorrow, but what you need to do tonight is confirm the surviving slaves have had their tattoos modified to show involuntary manumission. It should have been automatic, but the House Orb was destroyed, so we need a visual confirmation.” Again Rhysa nodded her understanding.

Hallyk gave a satisfied nod and stood. “One more thing. Due to the nature of the death of Amelia, I’ve put you temporarily under crown protection. Several Royal Agents have been placed in the neighborhood and two have been assigned inside this house. Tomorrow, I will come personally to bring you to the palace.” He nodded somberly at Rhysa’s expression. “We are taking this very seriously. I will see you tomorrow.” He gave a small bow and left the room.

Rhysa gazed into the middle distance as she tried to cope with the information she’d just received. Between the information and the implications, it was almost too much to absorb. When she finally blinked and looked around, the others were waiting for her silently. She took a deep breath and stood.

“Will one of you show me to where the survivors are being housed?”

Lord Hermestus stood. “I’ll take you.”

They walked through the halls at a stately pace, there was no need to hurry. Despite the burden of the day, there was something Rhysa had to know.

“Lord Hermestus--”

Lord Hermestus interrupted. “Call me Bryn. We’re peers now. Even setting that aside, you’ve been getting closer to calling me that than you realize. Your actions today just confirmed it.”

Rhysa took a deep breath and let it out. “Bryn, then, what’s the prognosis for Elise? Will she make a full recovery?”

Bryn shook his head slightly. “I doubt it. Most of the damage can, and will, be fully healed. The spine could cause problems, but will heal, albeit with a slight curve. Useable, but with a reduced range of motion and reduced endurance. Her biggest reduction in functionality will be her hand. We were able to reattach it, and she will have limited functionality from it. But it will never be as strong or flexible as it was. She’ll never be able to use a sword or dagger in that hand again.”

Rhysa’s heart ached for her friend. She felt tears in her eyes and quickly concentrated on the clinical issues. By removing the personal aspect, she could temporarily keep her emotions in check. “Reattaching something like that must be difficult.”

“I could certainly have used your help. You did a good job with Jayse, by the way. My wife told me what you did.”

Rhysa smiled and acknowledged the compliment, but refused to be sidetracked. “Realigning all those bones in the wrist must have been frustrating.”

Bryn glanced at her and sighed. “The hand was actually severed above the wrist. Just above where the ulna and radius meet, in fact. Joining the bone wasn’t too difficult. I’ve shown you how to align a broken bone and either splint it in place or speed up the natural healing properties of bone. This was really no different. Easier, in fact, since we didn’t have to deal with bone splinters. It was a clean sever. Same thing with the skin and muscle. The difficulty is the nerves and tendons. They don’t really heal themselves. The best we could do is essentially tie them together.” He sighed again. “No matter how finely or tightly you tie a cut string back together, it will never again be as strong or flexible.”

Rhysa nodded, then stopped outside a door Bryn indicated.

“I’ve put both burn victims in here. Standard sterilization procedures.”

Rhysa tapped into the magic overlay and scoured her skin and clothes with magic, killing all possible contaminants. She then created a specialized shield that conformed to her skin. When she was ready, she opened the door and stepped inside. Both patients slept in beds separated by a privacy curtain. Rhysa thought it was just as well, given how much burned skin was visible. The room was slightly below internal body temperature so naked patients would be comfortable without sheet or blanket.

Rhysa examined the patients, careful not to touch their sensitive skin. Due to the charring of the skin, the tattoos were difficult to see. She finally found it on the first slave’s inner arm. The tattoo showed crossed arrows. She looked at him thoughtfully, trying to remember who he was. Someone on the night shift, if he’d been sleeping in the early afternoon. Mischa, that was it. One of Tathan’s friends.

Rhysa walked around the privacy curtain to examine the woman. Rhysa thought the woman might have been beautiful. Rhysa remembered her as another of Tathan’s friends, Astith. She hoped the scarring wouldn’t be too bad. Unlike with the man, Rhysa found the crossed arrows quickly as the tattoo was on the woman’s left breast. Rhysa shook her head at how random tattoo locations could be.

She left the room. “Both have the crossed arrows. Where’s Tathan?”

“In one of the standard care rooms. With speed-growing the bones, he should be released in a couple of days.” Bryn led Rhysa to the room.

Tathan was awake and reading when Rhysa entered. He looked up at the sound of the door opening. His face lit. “Rhysa!” The joy and relief in his voice was unmistakable. “You’re looking good.” He looked meaningfully at the various casts attached to his body and gave a rueful shrug. “I thought you were caught in the house.”

Rhysa smiled to hear one person, at least, was in a good mood. “No. I was here. All that happened to me was fainting when my tattoo was altered.”

“Ah. Good.”

“Speaking of altered tattoos, I have to check yours to be sure you’ve got the crossed arrows.”

Tathan’s face fell. “You mean...?”

Rhysa nodded, surprised he hadn’t known or figured it out before now. “I’m afraid so. Lady Kasteryn didn’t make it.” She looked at him compassionately. “Most slaves have a joyful manumission. Others of us are freed through pain. I’m sorry.”

He displayed his wrist. “I saw them, but I’d hoped.”

She crossed to his bed and examined the tattoo. “You’ve got them.” She stepped back. “You’re a free man, now.”

He gave her a sad smile. “You know, I never thought of myself as a slave.”

Rhysa nodded. “I have to go. It may sound silly, now, but sleep well.” She bent over, hugged him gently, then left him to his thoughts.

She stepped into the hall. “Him, too.”

Bryn nodded. “I’ve set aside the green guest room for you. I’ll send dinner to you there. Get some sleep.” He smiled. “You’re looking a little wild around the eyes.”

A few minutes later, a soft knock on the door to her room heralded the arrival of dinner. She ate mechanically, without tasting. When she finished, she put the tray of empty dishes on a table near the door, stripped, and climbed into bed. She was fast asleep when the door opened and a hand reached in to take the tray.

True to his word, Hallyk came to take Rhysa to the palace himself. The door of his carriage carried his personal sigil: crossed swords overlaid by a winged rose, a crown binding the stem. Once the prince and Rhysa were inside the luxurious cabin, Hallyk activated a set-spell and the whole carriage was enclosed in an invisible egg-shaped shield. In her Sight, it glowed strongly enough to indicate it would stop both magic and physical attacks. Then Hallyk activated another set-spell, and the shield disappeared from her Sight. Once the spells were in place, Hallyk opened a small communication slit near the top of the front wall of the cabin.

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“Yes, Highness.” The driver’s response was unhurried and clinical.

The trip to the palace was uneventful. Hallyk kept the conversation light and on insignificant topics. Rhysa followed his lead, and even pulled a surprised laugh or two from the prince.

They entered the palace grounds through a side gate rather than the one she, Elise, and Lady Kasteryn entered two nights ago. Instead of a large courtyard with a large circular carriage drive, the side gate led to the palace’s stable entrance. The driver halted the carriage at the foot of a small flight of stairs. Without waiting for a footman, Hallyk opened the carriage door and stepped down. Rhysa followed his example, then followed him up the stairs.

He led her in silence through the halls of the palace. Here and there, Rhysa saw servants going about their duties. Pages ran past on errands for some lord or other. The scope of the architecture still impressed her, but Rhysa refused to be distracted.

Hallyk turned through a door into a section of the palace where the halls were empty. All she heard was Hallyk’s faint footfalls on carpet. He finally stopped in front of an unassuming door.

The room he ushered her into was fairly small. There was a map of Ellendahl on one wall, and a map of the continent on another. The center of the room was taken up with a circular table large enough to seat six people. King Dazhdeb and Queen Vasilia were already seated. A short stack of documents was piled in front of each of them. Their clothes were nice, but not formal. Hallyk gestured Rhysa to a chair.

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