22. Chapter 22

Chapter twenty-two

Kamir woke and immediately regretted it. Something tight scraped under his jaw and he raised a hand in bewilderment to find some sort of metal collar surrounding his neck. At the same time, he blinked his eyes to focus and realized he was in a room he’d never seen before, certainly not his own chamber. He forced himself to remember and glanced down at his hands. Each nail had caked blood under it, and he stared in dawning horror.

It was meant to be an illusion . She’d said so. But he hadn’t trusted her even then. Had his dragon really come forth and… Blood . Death. Nausea swam in his insides, and he swallowed down his dry throat with difficulty. A covered jug sat on a small side-table, but there was no cup or glass. He could drink from the jug if he trusted what was in it. He’d drunk the blood of the gods and that’s when everything had gone wrong. It had been drugged. That much was certain, but he didn’t remember much afterwards.

Kamir closed his eyes. No, no, he did. The screams, the blood, the carnage . How had that been an illusion? His heart beat like a wild thing, and he clasped his hands together to stop them from shaking.

Where was Mansala? Had his uncle imprisoned him? Please let him be safe.

The door abruptly swung open with a crash and guards poured into the small space. His gaze fell on his cousin Damatrious, dressed in full battle armor, and he scrambled to his feet.

“Cousin, I—”

“Silence,” Damatrious thundered, and Kamir quieted in shock. A clerk stepped into the small room and unfurled a scroll. With a curt nod from Damatrious, he began to read.

Kamir Rahanne Saad Anslar of Rajpur. You are charged with the unlawful killing of his Lordship Iskar of Sanjeveli, seven members of the ruling assembly, and a further six citizens of Rajpur.

“What? No. I would never. I-Iskar?” Kamir stammered. His cousin? Damatrious’s elder brother? “No, I—”

“I bid you to remain quiet,” Damatrious spat again. He slid his sword from its scabbard and took a menacing step forward, his eyes full of rage. “But I also beg you to give me a reason and I will end this right now.”

Kamir stared at him in bewilderment, his mind whirling. Iskar? Fourteen? Goddess, please no . He thought back to the day his dragon had first appeared. Veda had insisted he wasn’t the one that had hurt people. He hadn’t killed all those slaves. Those guards. That the wounds had been inflicted to cover up blade injuries, but what if she’d been wrong?

The clerk carried on reading, but Kamir barely heard him.

You will present yourself at the twelfth bell this night to hear witness statements and then receive the judgement of the ruling assembly. Should the majority of the assembly find you guilty, you will be purified by fire in the presence of the goddess as is the law.

Ordered this ninth day of Khala by Damatrious Anslar of Sanjaveli, Acting Holy Emir of Rajpur.

He didn’t know how he managed to stay on his feet until they had all left and the door closed behind them. It explained the collar. If he changed into his dragon, the collar would choke him. He knew the collar was made from ivory carbide and was reputedly indestructible. It was also rare, and he had no idea where they had found the materials, and it took weeks in a dense furnace to even shape it.

Which gave him a little focus. Ivory carbide took weeks to shape. They wouldn’t have had a collar of it just lying around. That made no sense. Of course, his uncle had been planning for just this, but in that case, where did Elainore fit in? Damatrious had never mentioned his father, which meant Gabar must be alive.

Kamir thought hard and tried to still his racing thoughts. Concentrate. Was Damatrious capable of a coup? He was only acting emir because his elder brother was dead, supposedly by Kamir’s hand. But who else would gain from this? Not Gabar. Gabar needed Kamir alive as a figurehead so he could rule, if Elainore was to be believed. The last thing he would want would be to hand over the crown to either of his sons until he had shaped them and had his fill of power. None of it made any sense, with one exception.

And Kamir’s sight blurred with moisture.

Him. That Kamir’s dragon had really killed all those people. That he’d really killed all those people.

An illusion hadn’t caused death. An illusion hadn’t seen innocents ripped apart. That had been him. He held his hands up and looked at the caked blood. There was much more on his soul. Kamir felt the fissure tear in his chest and rip apart his heart. It had been him. He had killed all those people. He’d nearly drowned in rivers of crimson, and wished he had.

He would be sentenced to death this night and it was fitting. All these weeks he had tried to bring forth his dragon, and now it was the last thing he wanted. He would go to his death as the monster he was.

He bit back a sob and imagined Tsaria. What was he doing right now? Surely they should have gotten back to the palace? Maybe he was sharing a meal with Attiker or taking a bath. Was he thinking of Kamir at all? Or was he just grateful to have escaped?

He couldn’t stop the solitary tear that trailed down his cheek. It was done. Funny, but he’d never expected to live a long life. He’d spent as much of his youth trying to remain unnoticed. Expecting any day for a brother to be born, followed by his own death. He imagined he would suffer a fatal accident of some sort. He had hoped to finish documenting the unvarnished history of Rajpur but that would be someone else’s task now, if it was ever completed.

He wished the twelfth bell would come faster.

The only people Kamir saw for the rest of the evening were slaves that came with wine he had no choice but to drink and food he couldn’t stomach. He’d tried to speak to one, but he had withdrawn without even looking at Kamir. When had he last eaten? At the inn, he recalled, where he’d spent those precious hours in with Tsaria.

Tsaria was safe, though. His sister too. He knew Draul wouldn’t let any harm come to her.

He tried not to think about what was to come. Purified by fire in the presence of the goddess. Old school. Executions hadn’t happened like that in hundreds of summers, but then an emir hadn’t unlawfully killed another of high rank in centuries.

The eleventh bell sounded and Kamir banged his head back on the wall in time to the strikes. None of this mattered, really. He was going to die. He had killed so many people and he deserved to die for it.

“Highness.”

Kamir opened his eyes. He hadn’t even heard the door open, yet Elainore was standing there. The same silken and golden glory. False humility he didn’t believe as she lowered her head. “What do you want?” He didn’t have time for niceties. And he really wasn’t interested in how she’d gotten into his room. Not that he was surprised, as he had seen her control his uncle.

Her eyes lifted, and she pinned him with a glare. “Justice.”

“Well, I will be dead in half a bell so you will get it.”

She laughed. Put her head back and crowed. Kamir tried to tune her out. He was thinking of Tsaria and she was interrupting. In his mind they had visited the ruins of Caheer, lying together as they watched the glorious sunset, and Tsaria was kissing him. He wanted to stay in his dream for as long as possible. Her laughter fell away, and she grew silent for a long few minutes. Kamir didn’t break it. She could stand there as long as she wanted.

“Let me guess, you are lying there feeling either betrayed or terrified. Terrified that because of your dragon you will be sacrificed.”

No, he was resigned. It didn’t make him less scared, but it didn’t make him less responsible either. Kamir swallowed down the sudden bile that rose in his throat. The blood had clung to him, was still clinging to him. A million scented baths would never get him clean.

“People were drugged, and your dragon killed all the witnesses.” She said it like it was nothing.

Kamir turned his head slowly and stared at her, then sat up. He couldn’t threaten her but he could at least be vertical. “It was supposed to be an illusion.”

“I cannot be expected to control your dragon,” she snapped out. No, he despised her, but his beast was his responsibility. The deaths were his fault.

“From what I have observed,” she continued. “Damatrious will plunge the country into chaos. He refuses to listen to his father, and he won’t honor any agreement I have made. He also refuses to see me alone.”

Kamir studied her. So, she couldn’t bend Damatrious to her will unless she got him alone. That was why she was here.

“I don’t have the time to alter the minds of the assembly, and there is nothing I can do to delay a punishment.” So she wasn’t that powerful. She’d already admitted she needed Damatrious on his own. “Iskar is dead. That is what triggered the purifying. If both had died Gabar wouldn’t have called for it.” Gabar wanted to use him. Damatrious was probably giddy with the thought of all that power, and he would have the country embroiled in a war very soon.

“Because Damatrious got called away on a ridiculous military issue, he is now acting emir.”

Yes, because the law was different for first born sons. They became the emir immediately and had six lunar months to prove it if they hadn’t already shifted on their sixteenth birthday. Dametrious could only call himself acting emir. Kamir stared at her, trying to work out if she told the truth. But it made sense because neither Elainore nor Gabar wanted him dead. They wanted Gabar to rule which he could only do with Kamir there. The illusion was because he had undisputedly produced a dragon. But then…

Of course. Both sons were supposed to die. To ensure the rule fell to him and Gabar. But Damatrious was alive.

“Damatrious is a complication I didn’t foresee,” Elainore admitted, knowing he had come to the same conclusion as she.

But none of it mattered. Being innocent of one death didn’t absolve him of the others. The thought of all those dead made him want to throw up. It didn’t appease his conscience that he hadn’t slaughtered Iskar himself, because the blood of all the others was firmly on his hands. “What do you expect me to do?” Kamir asked. Not that he had any intention of begging for his life.

“I need a delay to enable me to get to Damatrious to sort all this out. You are allowed a family member to speak for you, so I understand, and that would trigger the delay. Clearly your uncle cannot fulfil that role because it concerns the death of his son.”

Kamir scoffed. “I don’t have any brothers, or I wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.” He wouldn’t even be alive.

She tutted. “You have a sister.”

Kamir was briefly stunned that she would even be allowed to speak, but then understanding slammed in and glared at Elainore. “I will tell you and my uncle once and once only; there isn’t any reality where I would bring Veda back here to let Gabar get his filthy hands on her.” She was too far away, thankfully, to petition the assembly in time. It would be over because he wouldn’t ask for a delay. Good. He needed her safe.

Elainore’s smile fell. “Look, all I want is land for my people. I’m sure you really don’t wish to burn to death.”

“Not especially,” Kamir said. “But I came here knowing I would either bring forth my dragon or die. There was no middle ground.” And he’d brought forth his dragon, and many people had died for it.

“But I am offering you one.” Frustration colored her tone, and Kamir could imagine her stamping her foot.

Kamir scoffed. “You don’t have that power any longer.” He had a sick sense of satisfaction that her actions were backfiring.

“Not now,” she agreed. “But a request for the princess would trigger the delay. I thought you wanted to save your people?”

Kamir didn’t laugh, even though he wanted to. “My people may be better off with Damatrious.” They couldn’t be worse off, anyway. If he lived, Gabar would be in charge, and he couldn’t allow that. He knew that was why the lad had been sent. Veda wanted a delay to give her time to get here, but Kamir couldn’t allow that. Too many had died already.

Elainore shook her head. “You’re a fool,” she spat. “I’m handing you your kingdom on a plate.”

“Except you aren’t,” Kamir said softly. “It’s Damatrious’s kingdom, not mine any longer.” He leaned his head back. He was so tired.

“Perhaps Damatrious would meet a fatal accident?”

Kamir closed his eyes, sick of the conversation, but he was immediately lying in the river of blood and opened them quickly. Iskar. The law was complicated. The only way a purifying rite could be sanctioned for someone of such a high rank was if that person had unlawfully killed another of a high rank, which was why his uncle had never thought to use the rite the first time his dragon had supposedly killed people. Because they were soldiers and slaves, and thought lesser of, much to his shame.

Damatrious had much to learn, but of the alternatives he was the best choice. And his grief, his rage, had seemed genuine.

“No more deaths. Especially none in my name.” He was responsible for enough. Without him and Gabar by default, Rajpur had a chance. If he could do one thing for his people it would be that.

She stood and fisted her hands. He could nearly see the frustration burning through her. “They were supposed to be scared of you. No one expected Damatrious to be absent—”

“Enough!” Kamir spat. “I don’t care . Just get out and take your lies with you.”

Her eyes flashed. “Very well. When the flames lick your skin I hope you remember you had a choice.”

But he didn’t. He’d never had one. The twelfth bell sounded, and Kamir sighed and stood up. He was alone in the room, and he would go alone to his death. Not that it mattered, and somehow he didn’t feel alone in his heart. The memory of Tsaria’s touch was with him.

And the hope of his love.