Page 36 of The Dragon Warlord
I didn’t come up here for criticism or to be made fun of. I hate that I feel like a naughty child because I don’t have much to say for myself. “What would you suggest I do, my lady?”
She shrugs. “I am not a Warlord, and my knowledge of war is elementary, but…” There’s always a but. “I wonder, what defines a Warlord? Is it an army? A mindset? A type of person? Is it that he’s resourceful?”
“Without an army, a Warlord is just a person or maybe a crazed vigilante,” I declare. That’s obvious and this conversation is ridiculous. I’m officially sorry that I came up here.
She smiles and gestures to an invisible crowd. “Well then. You are the expert after all.”
I’d have to be a complete fool to miss that she doesn’t agree with my answer. Are all dragons this infuriating?
“Mother, he’s had a rough time of it. You shouldn’t tease him. Sorry, Warlord. She forgets that not all of us see,” Ikara says.
By “see” she must be referring to their seer abilities. “What’s it like to see?”
Ikara spins and the white, blue, and purple tails of her robes separate and wave around her like water as she extends her left arm and spreads shimmery magic into the air. “It’s like that, Warlord, like reading a wave. Waves change with influence and so you can only ever ride a feeling. Even with a vision, one can only delineate by feel.”
I get what she explains in theory, but I don’t fully understand. Corrik might. He’s forever trying to get me to understand how his gift for prophecy works and then is frustrated when I don’t truly “get it”. But I don’t have to understand the mechanism to be able to use the information just like I don’t have to understand how to craft a sword in order to use one.
“Do you see something, Lady Amira?”
“I see a fool without a sword.”
“Mother.”
“Good day, Warlord.”
I scowl after her, as she glides out of the gardens, and I don’t mean to growl, but I do. Events seem to inspire it around here.
“I apologize, Warlord,” Ikara says. “She says what’s on her mind.”
“I see that. Is there a reason she’s so tetchy? Bad vision maybe?”
Ikara shakes her head. “I don’t know. She won’t tell me, but she doesn’t say things lightly. Even if she’s crass, I’d consider what she said.”
Yeah. I can ignore her insults and respect that she’s probably lived for thousands of years and knows a thing or two.
“Anyway, it was lovely to meet you, Warlord. I’d better go after her.”
She skips away and I’m left with an angry River. His intensity reminds me of the two dueling dragons we crossed paths with earlier. “It wasn’t right for her to talk to you like that, Warlord. You outrank her.”
“By default, maybe, but I’m pretty sure she just talked circles around me. C’mon. While we’re here, let’s sit and soak up the sun.”
I sit comfortably on the stone bench at the edge of the world, staring toward leagues of sky, and River joins me. Our knees touch when we sit, and fuck it, I let it happen and sink into the relaxation touching him brings. His body loosens and his anger fades away when he sees that I’m choosing to shelve the ordeal and I’m sure that our touching has a lot to do with it too. I guess the truth is, I don’t care much for what happens in Dragon Land. This isn’t my home as much as the dragon lord wants it to be.
“So, where is your mother? You never talk about her.”
“My mother died in one of the raids. She was a warrior.”
“I’m sorry, River.”
“It was a long time ago, but I think you would have loved her, Warlord. She taught me a lot about how to use a sword. Rumor has it that she taught the dragon lord a few things too, but I wouldn’t mention it if I were you.”
My lips crack into a smile and I nudge his knee. Thank fuck for River or I’d be lost in this place. Simple words like that keep me going another day. His optimism is rubbing off on me. “Of course, I would have loved her, especially if she was anything like you.”
Now I’m thinking about raids and how one of them took River’s mother from him. It’s enough to spark the kindling, but not enough to make me care about an army I’ve never met or people who I’ve only succeeded in terrorizing.
“What do you think a Warlord should be, River?”
“You’ve let her get to you. Seers see too many things in their waters, Warlord. They seldom come to pass—because events change as often as the tide—and even if they do, it’s never in the way it was read. What she said was only her opinion.”
