Dragon in Exile - eARC
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Interlude One
Interlude Two
Interlude Three
Interlude Four
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Interlude Five
Chapter Twenty-One
Interlude Six
Chapter Twenty-Two
Interlude Seven
Chapter Twenty-Three
Interlude Eight
Chapter Twenty-Four
Interlude Nine
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Interlude Ten
Chapter Thirty-One
Interlude Eleven
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Epilogue
DRAGON IN EXILE – eARC
Sharon Lee and Steve Miller
Advance Reader Copy
Unproofed
Baen
#18 in the popular and exciting science fiction Liaden Universe®. Clan Korval rebuilds its fortunes on the gritty, semi-anarchic planet of Surebleak. Over a quarter million Liaden Universe® books are in print with an audience that keeps growing!
Star-trading Clan Korval—known to Terrans as the Tree-and-Dragon Family and to the locals simply as "the Dragon"—has been convicted of crimes against the homeworld. No matter that one of the "crimes" consisted of saving the elitist planet of Liad from very real internal threats, the Council of Clans wanted Korval heads to roll. Unfortunately for the Council, the Dragon's allies conspired to impose a milder punishment for saving the world: banishment, rather than execution.
Now relocated to the free-for-all world of Surebleak, the Dragon is under contract to keep the Port Road open to all traffic, and to back the New Bosses in imposing law and order on a society originally based on larceny and assassination. This modest rustication is going surprisingly well, until Korval discovers that the enemy they'd sought to destroy. . .wasn't quite destroyed, and is more determined than ever to eradicate Korval.
While the banishment killed no one initially, many of Korval’s trading allies are spooked, and some are reneging on ancient agreements, leaving the Dragon to make its own way. The clan’s efforts to stealthily recruit new allies is going haywire, and a secret death toll is rising even as the clan’s adherents endure increasing exposure to danger and deceit off-world.
To make matters worse, an active portion of Surebleak's native population liked the Old Ways just fine, and are conspiring to take the New Bosses—and the Dragon—down, and are sure they have the firepower and people to do it.
The exiled Dragon has to make an urgent choice—accept an alliance with criminals or face down each and every enemy in person, one by one.
BAEN BOOKS by SHARON LEE & STEVE MILLER
The Liaden Universe®
Fledgling
Saltation
Mouse and Dragon
Ghost Ship
Dragon Ship
Necessity’s Child
Trade Secret
Dragon in Exile
The Dragon Variation (omnibus)
The Agent Gambit (omnibus)
Korval’s Game (omnibus)
The Crystal Variation (omnibus)
The Fey Duology
Duainfey
Longeye
by Sharon Lee
Carousel Tides
Carousel Sun
Carousel Seas
To purchase these titles in e-book format, please go to www.baen.com
Dragon in Exile
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.
Copyright ©2015 by Sharon Lee & Steve Miller
Liaden Universe® is a registered trademark.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.
A Baen Books Original
Baen Publishing Enterprises
P.O. Box 1403
Riverdale, NY 10471
www.baen.com
ISBN: 978-1-4767-8071-9
Cover art by David Mattingly
First Baen printing, June 2015
Distributed by Simon & Schuster
1230 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY 10020
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
t/k
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Printed in the United States of America
Many thanks…
…to Alma Alexander, for the Right Word
…to Jo Clayton, who left us too soon, but gave us Skeen before she did
…to Janet Kagan, wherever you are, for Hellspark, one of our favorite books, ever
…to Gus Fleischmann, who volunteered to create, and bravely curates, the Liaden Wiki (liaden.wikia.com)
…and to all the Scavenger Hunters on Facebook and LJ—you guys have Awesome Search Skills
Prologue
The nursery slept in mottled twilight.
Night dims spotted along the walls lit a muted pathway to guide Nurse, should one of the babes wake within the deep night and call out. There were darker shadows along the edge of Nurse’s path, that a child’s half-waked imagination might populate with any number of creatures, fell or fair: Dragons might easily reside in such shadows; black cats, pirates, wolves, or flutterbees.
At this hour, the shadows sheltered only one habitant—another shadow, slightly darker than themselves. It had for some while stood motionless, listening to the sounds of the sleeping nursery. Now, it moved, black against black, resolving briefly into a gray silhouette as he crossed the lighted path, melting once more into the darkness beyond.
He ghosted past the alcove where lay the slumbering twins; his foot gliding soundlessly over the tuned board at the entrance. The twins were not his target; that lay further on; and in another moment he had achieved it.
She lay quiet and to all appearances deeply asleep, a star-decked blanket twisted about her legs, and a determined fist locked ’round the tail of a well-chewed plush cat. A strand of light from the night dims straggled into the crib and brushed her hair, sparking copper.
That she was asleep now did not mean that she would remain so. He must take care, and be quick, for she was bold, even so young; to extricate her without waking her—or the house—would be a challenge.
He bent close over the sleeping babe, and touched the stubborn fist, coaxing it gently open. The other hand he held ready, should she wake.
The child’s name was a compromise, as so many matters must be compromised, when two cultures married. The mother had wished for “Lizzie,” in order to honor her Terran foster-mother. The father…had wished to provide options. Thus, he had suggested a na
me which was inarguably Liaden; an old name, belonging, one might say, to no one.
Talizea, which might, in the Terran way, be shortened to “Lizzie;” and thus both cultures were served.
The shadow froze, breath-caught. Talizea yos’Phelium muttered under her breath, sighed, squirmed…and sank back into sleep, her grip on the toy slackening.
Smiling, he drew the cat away, reached into pocket and withdrew a dark muffler, in which he quickly wrapt his small target. He raised her, sleeping, and pressed her firmly against his shoulder.
A moment, then, he paused, listening. He heard a body shift, and blankets slide—the nurse. A step brought him into deep shadows, where he waited, but she settled without waking, and in another moment, he was at the nursery door.
It closed silently behind him.
* * *
Elsewhere in the house, beneath a skylight framing a study in black velvet, lit by distant, sullen stars, the child’s mother stirred in her bed. She extended an arm toward her partner, and slipped back into sleep.
* * *
The former nursery shadow settled his back against living wood, and sighed. It was warm here, undertree—much warmer than the supposed summer evening beyond the canopy. He crossed his legs and settled the baby onto his lap, folding the blanket away from her face. For a wonder, she slept on. Talizea was not usually so sound a sleeper. One might almost suspect Mrs. pel’Esla of drugging her charges—and one might, also, sympathize.
Val Con yos’Phelium sighed once more, lightly, and stroked his daughter’s bright hair. So must Miri have been, as a babe, even to the spangle of freckles across the small nose.
There had, of course, been no need to steal like a thief into his own nursery and pad away with his daughter in arms. Well, excepting that it was late, the children, and their long-suffering nurse, asleep and better to remain so. The nursery schedule was not made to accommodate those nights when dreams or old memories woke him beyond any hope of finding a second sleep.
Many times, on such nights, he walked alone in the garden; or sat here beneath the tree, where one of Korval was never truly alone; or sought the music room and his omnichora.
On some nights, however, he felt the need of Talizea, who was, after all, the delms’ heir, who would take up the management of Clan Korval, or whatever else they may have become by the time he and Miri judged it time to pass the Ring.
He had felt the need of her tonight, young as she was, because there was so much…
…that he hoped she would forgive him.
“To the best of my knowledge, Talizea,” he murmured, leaning his head against the warm bark of the massive tree at his back; “you will be the next delm of Korval. As your immediate predecessor—your mother would say, as half of your immediate predecessor—I wish to abase myself, and to ask that you…make your best effort to forgive me for the rare hash I have made of matters. It is true that there are many years yet before the Ring will pass to you, but our estate—Korval’s fortunes are already altered beyond recognition. I was born into a clan well-established on Liad, one of the wealthiest worlds in the galaxy, comfortably situated, and our melant’i impeccable, if…odd.
“Less than a Standard after taking up the Ring, I had fired upon the homeworld, and seen Korval banished from the homeworld, our name written out of the Book of Clans.”
He smiled slightly, looking down at his daughter, sweet still in slumber.
“I will not hide from you that it been the desire of…several Korval delms—including your grandfather, whose acquaintance I hope you will make very soon—to remove the clan from Liad. That I accomplished what had long been the Will of Korval, that was done well. My methods, however…were…perhaps…inelegant.”
Talizea yawned suddenly, raising her fists above her head, and subsided with a small chuckle.
“Yes, well. It relieves me that you are able to find humor in the situation. I was, myself, considerably amused—as was your mother, and your Uncle Shan. I do not hide it from you, Talizea: our humor is not quite in the common way.”
She made no further answer, and after a little silence, he continued.
“So—banishment, for crimes against the homeworld. We would at that juncture have been homeless, save for your cousin Pat Rin. He had been approached by agents of our enemy, the Department of the Interior, who had sworn that all his kin were dead. They wished to set him up as Korval, you see, and have him do as they bid.
“Well, you will say that they could not have thought the matter out, or they would have recalled what fate most usually befalls those who seek to leash a Dragon. I can do nothing but agree. I think, perhaps, that they forgot our shield—the tree-and-dragon—is…not a metaphor. Or perhaps they were complacent, believing that they dealt with the Least Dragon.
“However it came about, they made an error. Your Cousin Pat Rin dealt with the Department’s messengers as they deserved, and—thinking himself quite alone, you know, and with all of our deaths upon him to Balance—well, there’s no dressing it up in clean linen, is there? He subjugated an entire world to his purpose. It was very wrong of him—a violation of so many regulations I dare not count them—but we must make some allowance for his natural grief.
“In any case, he made this world—this Surebleak, as its native people have it—his base, and he hunted our enemy, the Department of the Interior, to Liad itself, where they kept themselves hidden beneath Solcintra City.”
He sighed.
“Which is how Clan Korval came to fire upon the homeworld, taking blameless lives, in order to rout our enemy. I do not wish you to think that this was some accident or misunderstanding on our part. We were quite in earnest, and we accomplished our goal.
“One might say—indeed, our official position is—that we rid the homeworld of a threat to its well-being. The Council of Clans took another position.”
Talizea made a small complaint. He picked her up and cradled her against him. She subsided with a sigh.
“Yes, you do well to ask more nearly about the Department of the Interior. Their destruction was necessary. I say this not only as your father and your delm, but as one who was pressed into the service of this Department: They are a blight upon every joy in the galaxy. Their methods of training are…reprehensible; they seek to make each of their operatives care only for the Department and its goals. They compel…terrible things. You are young; I will not say what they required of me. I feel—again, I beg your forgiveness!—but I feel that I will never tell out all of the things that I did, in their service.”
His eyes were burning. He closed them, lest the tears fall onto Talizea and wake her.
“Well. To bring that particular history into the present day—our strike did not destroy the Department entirely—one could hardly hope for that. We had supposed that the blow we dealt was sufficiently severe to require the Department to retire from the lists. In that, we were in error. The Department continues, though much diminished, and now they have as their object Korval’s utter destruction. Indeed, we hold…several agents in our care, which is perhaps—no, it is surely not wise. Best to put them beyond any further cruel usage. Yet…well. I fear your father is not always wise; and the delm thus far has been lenient with a fool.”
He opened his eyes, and looked down at his daughter’s small, unformed face.
“All of this, course, comes at a time when we are ourselves diminished; wrest from the homeworld to this Surebleak, which perhaps may have a use for Korval, but surely does not require interference from the Department of the Interior. It is my intention that Korval survive, and that Surebleak survives. And, most of all, that you survive, daughter, whether there will be a Ring to pass on to you.”
Talizea opened her eyes, and smiled.
Heart tight, he smiled, also; and turned his head toward the sound of a light footstep on the grass.
“Cha’trez?” he called softly.
“Right here,” she said, stepping undertree and dropping to her knees beside him in one smooth m
otion.
“Reading Lizzie the riot act?”
“Bringing her up to date on the current situation,” he corrected. “After all, she is our heir.”
“Can’t start too young, I guess,” his lifemate said, though her tone was dubious. Her hair was loose, falling in copper waves down past her waist.
“My father had used to talk to me about the delm’s business, when I was far too young to understand it,” he said. Talizea had closed her eyes; he lowered her again to his lap. “Did my absence wake you?”
“Prolly just time to wake up,” she said, and looked up as the leaves above them moved noisily, as if in a sudden breeze. She put her hand out, and two seed-pods fell unerringly into her palm.
“Well, there,” she said, with a smile; holding a pod that he knew without a doubt to be his. “Have a snack.”
Chapter One
Jelaza Kazone
Surebleak
Breakfast was an informal buffet laid out in the morning parlor, where early risers and late served themselves at their leisure.
Val Con had breakfasted early, with Miri, and seen her into the car, Nelirikk acting as driver, security and general aide, a duty he ceded to no one, save occasionally to Miri’s lifemate, and that grudgingly.
After the car had cleared the drive, he retired to his office, it being his day among Korval’s paperwork and correspondence, while Miri sat first board at the Road Boss’ newly constructed office at the Port. He had worked with commendable diligence for several hours, when a particularly annoying letter from Clan Vishna’s First Speaker opened him to the realization that a cup of tea would be very pleasant.