A Dragonbird in the Fern by Rueckert Laura

Author:Rueckert, Laura
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: North Star Editions
Published: 2021-08-02T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

The prison was all the way across town, and Gio, the wind god, and Azzoro, the water god, tussled in the sky as only brothers could, so Aldar ordered a carriage to take us there. The prison building was smaller than I’d expected for a town of this size, and I remembered that the Servants of the gods said the reason we had earthwalkers and other countries didn’t was that Azzaria had a stronger sense of justice than other countries. If Baaldarstad needed so little room for prisoners, and still had a well-functioning society, what did that say about us? Could it be we in Azzaria were too strict?

Inside was only an office consisting of two desks and a rack of weapons, and six cells beyond that. An older man in one of the cells stumbled from one wall to the next, raving about just one more drink. A tattooless man in another cell covered his ears. The others were empty.

The guards on duty dropped their jaws when we entered but made no move to stop us. Aldar explained what we wanted, and a woman armed with a staff and a club led us down steep stone steps to the secure area.

Dark torches lined the rock walls. The guard lit them as we went, the glow reaching further into the dark corridor.

The first cell we passed was empty, but in the second sat a man with a scraggly beard. He covered his eyes with his hand, blinded by the sudden torchlight. His clothes were filthy, but the embroidered diamond shapes on his sleeve cuffs hinted that he’d once cared for his appearance and confirmed he was from Stärkland. No one here or at home wore embroidery like that. The guard grumbled a few words, including “Skriin.” So now the prisoner knew I was the queen.

I imagined how my mother could intimidate men with only a look and stiffened my back. I needed to get whatever information out of him I could.

“Your Majesty!” He stood slowly, as if his joints were stiff, and bowed. “Thank you to come.”

My ears were playing tricks on me. Or Scilla’s spirit was confusing me. Or what else could explain my ease in understanding his heavily accented speech?

I turned to Aldar, whose eyebrows rose. So, Aldar had heard it too. I could understand the prisoner because he knew my language.

“You speak Azzarian?” I asked the man.

“Some, Your Majesty.” He brushed his hair back from his face. When he glanced at Aldar, his eyes narrowed.

The prisoner wasn’t as old as I’d expected. My age. Possibly even a little younger.

He returned his gaze to me, and a sparkle touched his eyes. “The king, he let me out?”

Before I could answer, Aldar cleared his throat. “Queen Jiara, I hate to see you waste your time with this scum. The stories the prisoner tells . . . you can’t believe anything he says.”

And that from Aldar. I could barely refrain from rolling my eyes. If he would have appeared

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