A Guile of Dragons Read Free Page B

Wardlands. No one is permitted to have unrestricted power over anyone else. There is no governor, no class of rulers, as you have in the unguarded lands.”
    â€œI can’t believe that. It must be chaos.”
    â€œThis Europe of yours, this is chaos.”
    â€œNot Britain.”
    â€œBritain is closer to chaos than you might think. The Britain you know is a creation of Merlin Ambrosius. He distorted the history of your world with a power focus I found myself unable to influence, or even fully comprehend. Sages from New Moorhope may be needed to counter-inscribe it. Once that is done, history will begin to resume its natural shape.”
    â€œArthur’s kingdom will last. It’s been foretold.”
    â€œMaybe. Maybe so. But the French knights have had more than one quarrel with Arthur’s relatives that Merlin had to smooth over. Then there are the Saxons and, for that matter, the Grail cult. Merlin tried to suppress it, but he never quite succeeded. Possibly it was an inevitable side effect of the focus, or there may have been other powers in play—”
    â€œWhat does any of this matter to your Graith of Guardians? Your Wardlands are far away, across the sea, you said.”
    â€œAcross the Sea of Worlds,” he said, correcting her. “Yes, it is far away, worlds away. But Merlin was creating an alliance of warriors and seers that the Graith might have been unable to defeat. Now you understand, I suppose.”
    â€œIs he so evil for this? Will you put him to death? He said—”
    â€œHis motives don’t matter. His actions threaten the realm I swore to protect. I don’t judge; I defend.”
    â€œSo you will kill him.”
    â€œNo. If the Graith finds he has broken the First Decree—and they will—he will be sent into exile. He must leave the Wardlands and never return.”
    They didn’t speak again until they had almost reached the horses. Then Nimue turned to Earno and said, “What did he mean when he said, ‘I’m sorry I mocked you’?”
    Earno Dragonkiller shook his head and did not answer.

C HAPTER T HREE
    The Sea of Worlds
    N imue tried to escape from Earno fifteen times on the ride from Broceliande to the coast. Each time she failed. Earno didn’t seem to resent it; he explained he had been a ship’s officer for many decades and he was used to chasing down men who had jumped ship. He wasn’t ill-tempered, but he was relentless. The next day they reached the stony pink shores of Bretagne where his ship was waiting, and the reluctant Nimue was still in tow.
    It was an odd ship indeed to Nimue’s eyes. The wood of the hull looked blue and shiny like glass; and it was smooth and cold like glass under her fingers when Earno helped (or forced) her to climb aboard. The interior of the ship was just ordinary wood, as far as she could tell, so she guessed the exterior was like paint or glaze applied to decorate the ship. She didn’t know how one could do this with glass, but she added it to her list of things she was eager to know.
    The single sail was pale and translucent, as if it was woven from glass. It moved in the wind, as sails will, but when Earno hauled it high and cast off from the shore, Nimue noticed that the wind that moved the sail was not the wind she felt on her face. The world’s wind was from the northwest, and should have driven Earno’s shining blue craft back onto the rose-pale rocks of the Breton coast. The shining sail felt the wind from some other quarter, some other world, and carried them westward, straight into the Ocean.
    She wanted to ask about the boat and the sail and the wind, but Earno brushed her off. “I will answer all your questions in time,” he said. “But now I have a course to lay out. I prefer to travel with a navigator, but that wasn’t possible on this trip.” He sat on a bench outside the little ship’s single cabin and fiddled