Dragonfly by Julia Golding Page B
Authors: Julia Golding
Tags: General, Juvenile Nonfiction, Action & Adventure, Juvenile Fiction, Fantasy & Magic, Social Issues, Royalty
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his chair. "And how is she going to do that?"
Fergox turned his attention back to his food and speared a piece of venison.
"By turning to the true faith, of course. Holin the Warmonger, the Father of all other gods, has shown me the way."
Ramil had heard of the Holtish name for the supreme being. Spearthrower introduced worship of this bloody deity in every country he conquered.
Images of him had been set up in temples, a warrior priesthood introduced, icons painted, many bearing a striking likeness to Fergox. It had become the most powerful religion in the world, attracting willing and reluctant adherents every day.
"And how will you persuade her? From what I have seen of the Princess, she is very devoted to her own faith."
"Pah!" Fergox spat out a bit of gristle. "She's young.
106
She'll listen. When I bribed the priest on Kai to choose her, I made sure they picked someone from a family free from the influence of that foul court. I know she's had four years of it, but she is not beyond redemption. Those other three witches will be burned at the stake when we conquer the Islands, but my Tashi will ride in to Rama at my side to institute the new religion."
"What do you mean 'by your side'?"
Fergox looked up at the earnest young questioner and winked. "I also asked them to pick me a comely wench. She's to be my wife." He scratched his chin, thinking about it. "Number five, but the prettiest armful of the lot.
Number one wife is becoming a bit of a scold, thinks she's superior to the rest. I think I'll execute her when I return home." He picked up a pen and scribbled a note in the margin of his book, as if making a memorandum to unleash the imperial axeman on his unfortunate spouse.
Ramil tried not to imagine what it would be like to be number five wife to Fergox. He wouldn't wish that on his worst enemy, let alone the little Islander. Could the warlord be dissuaded from the plan?
"But you surely will not hope to defeat the Blue Crescent navy? You won't be able to walk in and take over!"
"You forget, Princeling, that the navy will be at the other side of the world bombarding Gerfal. I think we will have no trouble just walking in, as you put it. You're not eating. Is there something wrong with your meal?"
107
Ramil shook his head. The problem was the company.
"And if the Princess does not convert, what then?" Fergox gave a heartless smile. "She'll discover I can
be very persuasive."
The next morning, Tashi was surprised to find that her ceremonial robes had been restored to her. There was a new white shift in place of the one that had got ruined on the journey, but the orange tunic, dragonfly robe, and orange sash were lying on the clothes press, cleansed of any stain.
But not my boots, she thought with a sigh. I don't think I'll ever see them again.
Having no one to wait on her, Tashi went through the rituals, even remembering the absent fingerbowl as she mimed washing her hands. She then struggled into her clothes, feeling sure the layers must be all uneven at the back and the sash badly fastened. She stroked the heavy brocade with its turquoise and gold dragon-flies, admiring afresh the skill of the craftswoman who had made it many years ago on the orders of a previous princess. It really did make her feel royal when she wore it. A mirror stood in the corner. She walked over to inspect herself. It was odd to see the old Fourth Crown Princess staring back. She'd almost forgotten what she looked like.
Mergot came in without knocking. She hesitated near the doorway, no longer so sure now that the girl
108
was dressed up in the strange clothes, looking so foreign. She held out a green veil, stick of kohl, and a pot of white make-up, not daring to come nearer.
"You're to put these on," she said, placing them on the floor and retreating.
"I'll be back in an hour to fetch you."
Tashi sat in the window and carefully applied her make-up, obscuring her individuality under the mask of the ruler. She supposed
Fergox turned his attention back to his food and speared a piece of venison.
"By turning to the true faith, of course. Holin the Warmonger, the Father of all other gods, has shown me the way."
Ramil had heard of the Holtish name for the supreme being. Spearthrower introduced worship of this bloody deity in every country he conquered.
Images of him had been set up in temples, a warrior priesthood introduced, icons painted, many bearing a striking likeness to Fergox. It had become the most powerful religion in the world, attracting willing and reluctant adherents every day.
"And how will you persuade her? From what I have seen of the Princess, she is very devoted to her own faith."
"Pah!" Fergox spat out a bit of gristle. "She's young.
106
She'll listen. When I bribed the priest on Kai to choose her, I made sure they picked someone from a family free from the influence of that foul court. I know she's had four years of it, but she is not beyond redemption. Those other three witches will be burned at the stake when we conquer the Islands, but my Tashi will ride in to Rama at my side to institute the new religion."
"What do you mean 'by your side'?"
Fergox looked up at the earnest young questioner and winked. "I also asked them to pick me a comely wench. She's to be my wife." He scratched his chin, thinking about it. "Number five, but the prettiest armful of the lot.
Number one wife is becoming a bit of a scold, thinks she's superior to the rest. I think I'll execute her when I return home." He picked up a pen and scribbled a note in the margin of his book, as if making a memorandum to unleash the imperial axeman on his unfortunate spouse.
Ramil tried not to imagine what it would be like to be number five wife to Fergox. He wouldn't wish that on his worst enemy, let alone the little Islander. Could the warlord be dissuaded from the plan?
"But you surely will not hope to defeat the Blue Crescent navy? You won't be able to walk in and take over!"
"You forget, Princeling, that the navy will be at the other side of the world bombarding Gerfal. I think we will have no trouble just walking in, as you put it. You're not eating. Is there something wrong with your meal?"
107
Ramil shook his head. The problem was the company.
"And if the Princess does not convert, what then?" Fergox gave a heartless smile. "She'll discover I can
be very persuasive."
The next morning, Tashi was surprised to find that her ceremonial robes had been restored to her. There was a new white shift in place of the one that had got ruined on the journey, but the orange tunic, dragonfly robe, and orange sash were lying on the clothes press, cleansed of any stain.
But not my boots, she thought with a sigh. I don't think I'll ever see them again.
Having no one to wait on her, Tashi went through the rituals, even remembering the absent fingerbowl as she mimed washing her hands. She then struggled into her clothes, feeling sure the layers must be all uneven at the back and the sash badly fastened. She stroked the heavy brocade with its turquoise and gold dragon-flies, admiring afresh the skill of the craftswoman who had made it many years ago on the orders of a previous princess. It really did make her feel royal when she wore it. A mirror stood in the corner. She walked over to inspect herself. It was odd to see the old Fourth Crown Princess staring back. She'd almost forgotten what she looked like.
Mergot came in without knocking. She hesitated near the doorway, no longer so sure now that the girl
108
was dressed up in the strange clothes, looking so foreign. She held out a green veil, stick of kohl, and a pot of white make-up, not daring to come nearer.
"You're to put these on," she said, placing them on the floor and retreating.
"I'll be back in an hour to fetch you."
Tashi sat in the window and carefully applied her make-up, obscuring her individuality under the mask of the ruler. She supposed
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