Dragonbond

Chapter 2-2

When the caravan arrived at the three-story building, Koragi crawled out of her hiding place and stretched her limbs and muscles. Her body ached from the trip, and she wished for nothing more than to go inside and retrieve the key to one of their rooms so that she could curl up on a blanket-laden bed. But there was still much work to do. Whether they took part in the festivities or not, none of the villagers would be fortunate enough to have an early night.

Koragi did not carry the crates a second time. The men of the village took care of the storage of the horses, the oxen, and the wagons, along with their goods. Koragi joined Ravian, Gilly, and Jori, as well as Miss Adger—a middle-aged woman who had ridden in the back of the first wagon with some of the children—in gathering the youngsters who had accompanied them. The children were tired and knew well to keep their excitement in check lest they become lost in the sea of people, so moving them into The Happy Lantern was a simple feat.

They navigated the noisy interior, where tables filled with laughing families and a quartet of musicians kept the serving maids and cooks busy. Miss Adger spoke with the barkeep to retrieve two of their keys. With four rooms for their party of seventeen, the sleeping arrangements would be as cramped as the trip had been. The largest room went to the children and Miss Adger, who acted as their nanny. The youngsters were just frightened enough of the city that they minded their elders perfectly. Ravian and the other girls took another room for themselves. Koragi was meant to join them, but she set her few belongings inside the nursery instead and looked hopefully at Miss Adger. The woman smiled warmly and welcomed her to leave her things.

“You will want to head to the Commons Hall with Gerian,” Miss Adger noted. Her voice was motherly and kind. “Do not linger here. Go enjoy yourself, Koragi.”

The seamstress quietly thanked her before slipping into the hall. She waited some time for Ravian, Gilly, and Jori to step out of the second room, but said nothing to them and simply fell in step behind them when they glided by without so much as a nod in her direction. It was better they kept together as a group, regardless of the cold distance between them socially.

Outside, Gerian Mere directed two militia men toward the markets. Tebanis stood with a small map next to the injured militia soldier who had shared wagon space with Koragi, presumably deciding where to have the soldier’s injury examined. The fourth militia soldier broke off from the others to join Gerian, along with the driver of the second cart. A year or two older than her, Koragi knew them well enough, but she had never spent any real time around them. Nevertheless, she gave them an encouraging smile when she noticed their nervousness. It was only half genuine, of course. She was suddenly as fidgety as they were about the drawing.

It seemed that Ravian was the only one among them who was perfectly content. She had her self-importance to help, though, Koragi reasoned. Ravian looked out-of-place as she walked with the rest of them. She had the fairest skin and hair amid dirty farmers and diligent laborers. She wore the finest silk, adorned with a necklace and earrings. Koragi felt so very plain next to her and she imagined Ravian enjoyed her discomfort very much.

“No need to worry yourself, dear.” Ravian’s confident voice drifted to Koragi’s ears and she turned her attention back to the group she followed. Ravian had spoken to Gilly. “I will gladly help you commission the finest dress that Elder Myra can put together for you next year—within your budget, of course. Either way, if your name is drawn next time you will be the most beautiful woman at the ball!”

“That’s so very generous of you, Ravian!” Gilly crooned.

Koragi’s stomach turned in protest. Ravian’s sweet words dripped with thinly-veiled venom that went unnoticed by the younger girls. But neither Gerian Mere nor the other young men who accompanied them spared the speakers a glance, so it was possible she had imagined the tone. Since she had come of age, Ravian had been desperate to have her name drawn for the ball. She had spent countless hours at the shrine to Soragen, lord of fortune, and last year had sought some way to cheat when her name had not been drawn.

Koragi wondered if Ravian would be unbearable if the officials did not call her name this year. The seamstress silently prayed that they would speak her name, just so the prattling woman would leave them be for a night. The celebration following the Announcement had potential, but in the past couple years, Koragi had mostly just listened to the baying of a spoiled girl.

The Commons Hall was similar to most structures in the South District, except that it was a large cube with a jagged roof. Its tall alabaster walls were adorned with silver tapestries bearing the crest of the ducal family: a bronze oak tree enclosed in a silver ring. The bronze settings in the huge double iron doors of the Commons Hall bore the same image. Duke Erran Vaisan was the third in his line, appointed by and sworn to serve King Zyrus Tarycyn of Thornin, whose royal seat was located on the continent of Aldor far to the east. Koragi had never even seen any member of the ducal family of Eiskre, but everything she had seen and heard of their rule indicated that they were fair and just in their leadership. Eiskre was surprisingly peaceful for its size—at least to an uninformed outsider looking into the unfamiliar setting. The first time she had come to the city, she had expected to be mugged or kidnapped, or to at least see one or the other take place.

The Commons Hall grounds were busy with activity. Citizens and visitors alike traveled into and out of the building like ants following a predetermined path. Koragi entered with the rest of her group and looked around at the tall tapestries that lined the grey walls inside. Huge staircases climbed either side of the foyer, winding around to disappear into the second floor. Great marble pillars stood like a line of sentinels on either side of the room, around which bureaucrats wearing the colors of the city directed groups and individual travelers. They pointed Koragi’s group to the north wing, where a line of youths awaited their turns to submit their names. Still more arrived behind them to stand in line, which was oddly calming to the young villagers. Gerian Mere spoke quietly with them as they huddled close together and edged forward whenever the line moved.

“Remember that you must not set your hopes high,” he warned. Despite his words, he offered them a warm smile that reached his cobalt eyes. “These drawings are wholly random and the odds of your name being drawn are nigh nonexistent. If you do not hear your name tonight, I urge you all to go out and enjoy the Festival nonetheless.”

Ravian returned his smile. She batted her lashes and spoke sweetly. “Your name was drawn once, Mister Mere. Your first year, if I recall. That is true fortune, no?”

“And exceptionally rare,” Gerian reiterated. He studied Ravian a moment before turning his attention to Koragi, who was the only first-timer among them.

Koragi held no notion that she would hear her name. The excitement surrounding the possibility was more than enough for her. When it was finally their turn at the table she waited until the others had finished before she scribbled the required information upon the tiny slip of paper that acted as her entry to the drawing.

She glanced up at the aged officials who looked down their sharp noses at her, as if able to determine by sight alone that she was truly of the proper age. Or perhaps they disapproved of the way her hair swept aside, messy and harboring a stray blade of grass or two. She felt immeasurably dirty under their gazes and fled from the table as soon as she could. The villagers gathered in the foyer, next to the third pillar from the door on the south wall. By now the building was packed, and they had little hope of leaving together without being scattered until after the Announcement was delivered.

A brief commotion followed the cut-off bell for the names; they had only made it by several minutes. Women older than Koragi cried out in dismay as they watched the bowl of names disappear from the front of the line, their opportunity to join in on the tension and heart-pounding agony of defeat lost before their eyes. As the grief-stricken maidens departed the northern wing of the building, the villagers from Cordak settled in for a long wait. It would be another two hours before the officials announced the names, but the front doors of the Commons Hall were still wide open and citizens and travelers yet poured inside.

Most passed the time with idle gossip. Koragi managed to strike up a conversation with an old woman with skin the color of smooth mahogany. The elderly woman fascinated her with stories of distant lands to the southwest, where the earth was dry and cracked and trees were a rarity. Koragi had never read about such a place, but the images the old woman conjured in her mind seemed so tangible. She saw the desert, felt the scorching sun that left her skin darkly tanned and her throat screaming for water. One day she would go, she decided, just to experience the world that this strange old woman cherished so. She was unsure how to get there, or even where it really was, but she would just need to find a proper map of all of Camriiole and venture out into the world to see what was there.

She liked to pretend that she would, at least.

The din of voices gradually trailed off when the great bell at the front of the foyer finally sounded. The low, reverberating chime caused excited whispers, for it marked the time for the Announcement. Ignoring the ache of tired legs and the creak of bones forced to stay in relative stillness for too many hours at once, the gathered citizens, travelers, and visitors fell into a deafening silence. Koragi’s pulse thrummed in her ears, she was so excited. It was a silly thing, but the anticipation of the drawing was like nothing she had ever experienced in Cordak.

Next to her, Ravian pushed forward a few steps to attain a better view of the northern dais, where a man in voluminous blue robes, recognizable as Eiskre’s Minister of Foreign Affairs, Scillon Matrese, took a parchment from another robed official and held it up before the crowds. The ceremony was glorified in its execution, but successful in creating remarkable suspense.

“Citizens and visitors,” the Minister began. His baritone voice boomed through the building. He was an aged man with the look of a foreigner himself, his jaw square and his eyes and hair black. A long, braided beard completed his appearance of hard authority. “The Council of Six brings to you the names drawn in the inner city, plucked by the hand of none other than our Duke Vaisan! Each region receives six randomly-drawn names, three male and three female. Thus these six individuals must present themselves by dusk tomorrow to the Ministry building in the Inner District, where they will be personally greeted by the royal family.

“Neiren Core, son of Plerian and Sari Core of Eiskre.” The name resulted in a cheer that swept the eastern half of the building and the Minister waited for it to die again before continuing. His austere gaze swept over the crowd and silenced any future cheers, if not the excited whispers. “Kennin Braugh, son of Hermal and Forial Braugh of Eiskre. Malagor Gremm, son of Malagor and Juneira Gremm of Eiskre.” Koragi looked at the young men who had accompanied their group sympathetically. They were visibly disappointed, but she thought she saw relief in their eyes, as well. The Minister continued, offering no pause for the lamentations of other would-be male attendees. “Ilian Horth, daughter of Bren and Julian Horth of Eiskre. Koragi Domerie, daughter of Elder Myra Domerie of Cordak. And Vili Bartan, daughter of Minister Soracel Bartan of Eiskre!”

As soon as the Minister spoke the final word of the Announcement, the room erupted into a clamor of shouts and cheers, many of which expressed surprise at hearing a name from Cordak.

By the third pillar from the entry door on the south wall, Koragi was numb. A painful spike of adrenaline swept through her, frozen and feverish at the same time. She felt the eyes of her fellows on her. They gaped at her just as she gaped in the direction of the dais which the Minister had already vacated, leaving his aides and various guards to clear the building of those who lingered.

She heard nothing. Even when Gerian Mere took her arm and guided her to walk with them, she remained entirely unresponsive outside of the stiff movements of her legs to follow him. She especially remained unresponsive to Ravian’s outraged screech of protest.