Akiri: Dragonrider by Brian D. Anderson

Author:Brian D. Anderson [Anderson, Brian D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-04-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

It was one thing to say that he would find a way to destroy the scepter; quite another to actually find a way to do it. As his frustration mounted, Akiri suggested that Kyra simply drop it into the sea. But Tuvarius rejected the idea outright.

“If it can be retrieved, it will be,” he said. “So far as I know, only the power of an elder dragon could do more than put a scratch on it. And tragically, they are long dead.”

Mayshaw had been effective at keeping Akiri in bed long enough to ensure he healed properly. She had a way of speaking that made one feel guilty if they did not do as told.

“You must have the most well-behaved children in existence,” Akiri remarked on the day he was finally allowed out of bed for more than a brief walk around the room.

“My children knew who was in charge of the house,” she had replied. “Don’t get me wrong—they rebelled just like all children do at some point. But in the end, they settled into upstanding adults. Now my grandchildren... they’re a bit wild.” She grinned playfully. “But they are far more fun. A well-mannered child is good. But there is a special joy in the wild ways of unbridled youth. At least that’s what I tell my daughter when she’s at her wits’ end. Unfortunately, when it comes to handling the wee ones, she takes after her father. Shouts when he should smile, smiles when he should frown. He never could get a read on what was going on in their little heads, may the heavens keep him.”

“Have you spent much time with Kraybor?” Akiri eyed the clothing laid out on the foot of his bed. A black shirt and trousers, a deep blue jacket, and a pair of new boots. Not an elegant ensemble; more like something a man of modest means, like a soldier or tradesman, would wear to be presentable to someone wealthy. He rubbed at his recently groomed beard, grown thicker to obscure his resemblance to his son.

“Almost none,” she responded, hanging a belt on a hook by the door. “I love Tuvarius, and the queen needs him. But he is not trusted, and so neither am I. My movements in the palace are severely restricted, and they watch every step I take. I suppose they think I’m spying for Tuvarius.”

This scrutiny did not appear to bother her, having accepted the situation as a simple truth.

A moment later, two young men entered carrying a tub of hot water and a cloth bag containing soaps, oils, a towel, and a wash rag. Unlike the first time she had seen him naked and remarked with appreciation, Mayshaw barely lifted her head when Akiri slid from his bed and began disrobing.

The hot water was cleansing, and the soap left behind a modest fragrance of honey. The oil was mild and soaked into his skin almost upon contact, removing many of the tiny splits caused by exposure to the elements.

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