>>6142540You let these words soak in, giving them the same careful analysis that your own plans deserve. “I see,” you reply at last, “Do try and get me that audience, Sakhalin. I'd rather hear King Albrecht out first, and perhaps even change his mind, before I'm forced to take any more... drastic action.”
“As I said, I will try,” Sakhalin answers with a forlorn sigh, “Please do not do anything that will make my job any more difficult than it already is.”
“I will try,” you repeat back to him, finally allowing yourself a bitter smirk.
-
Much of your journey home is spent in silent planning, each possibility passing through your mind and withering beneath the cold glare of scrutiny. You could, you reason, try to pass yourself off as a member of the Silvera family – there's more than a passing similarity between yourself and Cato Silvera, for example. It might be a little too much to expect the solemn young man to help you, but the possibility, no matter how faint, remains.
Time passes slowly on the road, and you arrive back at the estate not long after midnight. Talking little amongst yourselves, you split up from the rest of your companions and retire to bed. Despite dozing in the carriage, the journey home left you exhausted and sleep comes quickly.
The next morning, you wake with a feeling of foreboding. Hurrying downstairs, you see Alex busy with opening a large packing crate. You dimly recall seeing it when you returned home last night, but you were too tired to pay it much attention. This, you presume, is the gift Master Teilhard had arranged for you – a barbarous standard, carrying a heavy banner decorated with the image of a strange winged serpent rising above a forest of blades. No doubt it must've been a terrible sight when flying over an army of Lliogor warriors, but the banner seems faintly pathetic when seen like this.
“What is that thing?” you ask, pointing to the winged beast, “Some Lliogor symbol?”
“Aye. They call it a dragon, I believe,” Alex answers, “Don't ask me what it's supposed to represent, because I don't know. Maybe it's just a great big beast, and it doesn't represent anything – I can't imagine the Lliogor care much about imagery.”
You grunt a vague acknowledgement, still looking at the bloated white thing. It's vaguely horrible, in ways that you can't quite describe.
Glancing away from the banner at the sound of footsteps, you turn to see Elle descending the stairs. “Oh, that's horrible,” she murmurs, walking over to study the banner, “What is that thing?”
“The Lliogor call it a dragon,” you explain, flashing Alex a quick smile, “Some kind of heraldic beast, I expect.”
“Fascinating...” Elle muses, reaching out one hand to stroke the banner only to hesitate, drawing her hand back at the last moment.
[2/3]
