Dragon Bones (Hurog #1)(62)
"The same as you, I imagine," I said. "Fighting the Vorsag."
The warm smile left his face at my crisp reply. I dismounted, loosened Pansy's girth, and continued talking to give him time to think. "I think the Vorsag are raiding rather than conquering right now, though. Kariarn has always lusted after magic. I've just come from Silverfells, and the raiders had left there not a half day before us, killing everyone in the village. My men tell me that the last time they were there - fifteen years ago - Meron's temple at Silverfells claimed a large stone dragon, which is not there anymore."
"Oranstone seems to have had a beneficial effect on your intellect," he said.
I gave him a slow grin. "We'll have to recommend it." I could see from his face it wasn't enough, so I continued more soberly. "My father killed his father to get Hurog, and he half killed me. I was afraid he'd finish the job."
Shock came and went quickly on his face. Slowly, he nodded his head; he knew my father. "Survive how you can," he said. "Would you introduce me? I see several Hurog faces, but I can't place them."
"Haverness," I said formally. Oranstonians dislike titles, so I gave him none. "These are my men, Axiel and Penrod, who fought under my father's banner and now follow me." Normally, one wouldn't introduce one's troop to a man of Haverness's standing, but he'd all but ordered me to do so. "And my sister Ciarra." She gave him a gamine smile in return for his courtly bow. "You're supposed to curtsy, you mannerless ruffian." She rolled her eyes at me, then bobbed quickly up and down like a serving maid, and Haverness chuckled.
"My brother Tosten."
Haverness's gazed sharpened on my brother. "I thought he was dead."
"Who said that? I asked. I hadn't heard that bit of gossip.
"Your father, I believe."
"Pleased to meet you, sir," said Tosten, bowing. "My father was mistaken."
"Bastilla of Avinhelle," I continued the introductions. "Mage and warrior."
Bastilla smiled and sank into a graceful curtsy that managed to look ladylike despite her moldering fighting leathers.
"And our second mage, Oreg, my cousin or some such, who tells me it is possible that Kariarn plans on draining the magic from his artifacts to perform great magic. Also that Kariarn's mages have managed to transform whatever was in the stone dragon into something real. He thinks it was a dragon."
"Ward?" The voice was familiar, but it was so out of place I couldn't attribute it until I saw one of my cousins hurrying over to us. I could usually tell them apart, but in some strange way, this man looked like neither of them. He'd lost weight, and he looked as if he hadn't slept in weeks - nor smiled in all that time. "As I live and breathe," he said, sounding as astounded as I felt. (What was my cousin, whichever one it was, doing here?) "It is you. Where did you come from?"
There were no bright scarves tied in odd places, but it was the neatness of his appearance that finally made me guess. "Beckram? What are you doing here?"
He clapped me on the shoulder and ignored my question. "Father will be glad to know..." His jaw dropped. "Tosten?"
"Good to see you again, Beckram," he answered.
"I'll leave you to your greetings." Haverness nodded at us. "Beckram, see that they are settled in."
11 - WARDWICK
I wasn't entirely sure whether I'd gotten myself into a war to defend Oranstone from the Vorsag, or a war against the high king. Either way, it suited me.
The Blue Guard was camped along a soft stretch of turf against one wall. I whistled when I counted the tents, which included Stala's distinctive one. Three Blue Guardsmen were walking a lazy patrol around the perimeter. The rest were probably out practicing somewhere, knowing my aunt.
"What are you doing all the way out here with Stala and half the Blue Guard, Beckram?" Tosten asked my question, which seemed wise, given how Beckram felt about me. "Did the king decide there was a war going on at last?"
Beckram snorted. "The king misspoke himself and fell into his half brother's trap."
"Alizon?" I said.
"None other. The upshot is that Haverness was given leave to bring a hundred men to quell the problems here in Oranstone."
"And he chose the Blue Guard?" I said doubtfully.
Beckram stopped walking toward the tents. "No, that's another story. Ward, what happened to you?"
He sounded concerned. I fought back the impulse to list my nicks and bruises; old habits die hard.
"My father died." I said. "It improved my outlook remarkably - as well as my intelligence."
He smiled slowly - not his usual brilliant smile - and I wondered for a minute if he were Erdrick. They switched places sometimes, and it was surprisingly difficult, even with their widely disparate personalities, to tell which was which.
"Erdrick was right," he said. "He told me once that he didn't think you were as stupid as everyone thought you were."
"Stupid enough to lose Hurog," I returned.
He shrugged and resumed his rapid pace toward the distinctive blue tent. "Do you have camping equipment?"
"For the woods. But there are no trees here."
At Beckram's gesture, a couple of men took the horses to be stabled while we saw about our packs. After a bit of rearranging, we stored our goods in a tent vacated for us.