Kingsteel (The Dragonkin Trilogy Book 3) by Michael Meyerhofer Page B

shrugged. “ That war is over. We lost. The prisoners can do what they like. If they can make it back to the forest, so be it.”
    “You really think a pack of beaten, half-starved women without weapons will have no trouble passing through a snowy land rife with murderous Humans?” Zeia almost laughed.
    “Are you suggesting we do nothing?”
    Zeia urged her horse until she was riding a little ahead of Shade’s. “I suggest we do the smart thing and head north, back to Coldhaven. Or have you forgotten all the other Shel’ai children who need protecting?”
    “I’ve forgotten nothing. We’ll make for Coldhaven once Brahasti’s dead and I’ve ground his ashes under my boot.”
    If we survive... “Then what? What about the Dhargots? Do you really think they’ll let you be after this?”
    Shade shrugged. “I killed a prince whose brothers already wanted him dead. Besides, I never told Ziraari where Coldhaven is.”
    Zeia glanced back at Shade in time to see him wince, as though he’d just realized an error. She wondered if he had told Ziraari more than he’d intended and if that wasn’t the real reason he’d killed the prince. The thought that Shade might have endangered the last few Shel’ai left enraged her, but she concealed this and made sure she’d walled off her mind, lest he try to read her thoughts. “Perhaps we should take the children elsewhere.”
    “Which children… the Shel’ai or the Sylvs?”
    She realized he must have been joking. “We could try Stillhammer again—”
    “Last time we were there, their king killed four of us and wounded six more, just for planting turnips in land nobody wanted.” Shade laughed coldly. “The Dwarrs are no better than the Sylvs we left behind.”
    “Humans, then,” Zeia suggested. “Not Dhargots, I know… and not the Isle Knights or any of the Free Cities after what we’ve done… but maybe we could head south. We never tried going to Quesh before. Maybe they would welcome us—or at least leave us alone.”
    But Shade was already shaking his head. “Too many enemies between here and there. One or two of us might make it that far, but not with children in tow.”
    “Sorocco, then.” Zeia thought of the dark-skinned sea merchants. Though rumored to be a superstitious people, they were so far removed from the rest of Ruun that they might not share the preconceived notions of the Shel’ai. Thinking of the Soroccans gave her an idea. “Or better yet, get a ship of our own and sail off somewhere?”
    Shade looked at her and scoffed. “Beyond the Dragonward? The Dhargots must have injured you more than I thought.”
    “Why not? The old Dragonkin are long gone… maybe even dead by now. Besides, we don’t need protecting from them, anyway. We need protection from the rest of Ruun!”
    She expected Shade to mock her, but his expression turned thoughtful. “Silwren suggested that once,” he said quietly.
    Zeia thought she saw a pang of nostalgia, even guilt, in his expression.
    “It’d never work, though. I don’t know any more about the sea than you do.”
    “Then we’ll hire someone who does. The Soroccans, even the Isle Knights—”
    “And go where? Sure, some say there are other continents out there, but we don’t know how far or how safe they’d be even if we reached them in one piece. For all we know, we might inadvertently sail to the same damn place the Dragonkin went after the Shattering War.”
    But Zeia was not about to give up. “So what if we did? The Dragonkin wielded magic, just as we do. They might greet us as allies.”
    Shade’s familiar look of derision returned. “Have you forgotten your fairytales, Sister? We were cattle to the Dragonkin. You know that as well as I do. Those of us they didn’t kill, they kept as slaves. We’d be better off dealing with King Loslandril.”
    “But that was centuries ago. The Dragonkin might have forgotten. Or maybe they changed. We certainly have.”
    Shade reined in his horse again.