Free Vengeance of Dragons (Secret Texts) by Holly Lisle Page A

mistress or his
eylayn.
”
    “Correct.”
    “I’ll kill you if you touch her, you bastard,” she heard Ian mutter to Ry, but that oath was spoken far too softly for the others to hear.
    Kait sighed. “Then I accept your terms for my people.”
    The captain now asked her, “And you will hold parole for your people, and submit yourself to my judgment without question or argument if they violate that parole?”
    Kait turned and gave Ian a look that clearly stated,
Put me in his hands and I’ll make you pay for the rest of your life,
and said, “I will.”
    “Then I accept your terms for my people.”
    The parnissa glowered at both of them, but stood between them and tapped the knot in the center of the cord that bound them. “Gods attend these actions of men, for these two have acted for the best interests of all, in the spirit of fairness, dealing honestly one with another,” he said in a flat, angry voice. The words came out as hurried rote, the recitation of a furious schoolchild made to perform against his will. “They are now made law and subject to the penalties of the laws of Matrin and the Veil.” He tapped the knot again. “I witness, remember, and record.” When his finger tapped the knot for the third time, it undid itself as if by magic, but Kait could see that it had only been cleverly tied.
    Kait turned to Ian and Hasmal. “Untie Ry and release him.”
    Neither man was happy about it, but both complied.
    Ry got to his feet, brushed the ashes from his face, and rubbed his chafed wrists. He looked at Ian, and the hatred that passed between the two of them was visible. She had sworn that she would keep Ian under control, at forfeit of her life if the captain so chose; she wondered if Ian’s love for her would be enough to make him obey the parole, or if he would sacrifice her to get at Ry.
    Ry’s eyes held Ian’s death in them, too. He smiled—a tight, ugly grimace of barely controlled rage—and strode across the beach to join Yanth and the parnissa.
    The captain said, “Would you prefer to go to the ship first, parata?”
    Kait was afraid to leave any of her people alone, protected by the captain’s sworn word or not. She glanced up at the ridge behind her and said, “I’d rather get our injured man on board first. The Mirror can travel with Hasmal and Ian and me.”
    The captain smiled. “As you choose.”
    Kait led her people and Ry’s back through the hills, toward Jayti and the Mirror of Souls, and wondered how much of an ordeal the trip ahead of her would be.
     
Chapter 7
    S haid Galweigh, pretender to the Galweigh paraglesiat, ushered his contingent of diplomats, traders, and Wolves into the magnificent Palm Hall of the Sabirs. He was the first Galweigh to step within the walls of Sabir House as a guest in over four hundred years, and if he did not represent Calimekka’s great Galweigh House, but only Cherian House in the city of Maracada on the island of Goft, that was a fact that both he and his Sabir hosts were willing to overlook.
    He took his seat in the enormous gilded ivory chair at one end of the long table and nodded toward the two men who sat at the other end, in chairs of matching magnificence. One was the Sabir Family paraglese, Grasmir Sabir, old and leonine and majestic; the other was a handsome young man named Crispin Sabir, who had beautiful golden hair and a warm and ready smile that Shaid instinctively liked. The two Sabirs had personally greeted each member of the delegation before anyone moved into the Palm Hall; now, finally, Grasmir gave a signal and the meeting began.
    “We have both old and new business to discuss,” Grasmir said with a wry smile. “The old stretches back over four hundred fifty years; I think perhaps we ought to settle that before we move on to those things which immediately interest us.”
    Around the table, various Galweighs and Sabirs chuckled.
    “As acting head of the Galweigh Family, I have to say it’s about time we got around to