The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

one he and Fred had found at the Equinox Pylon in Sambol was the first of many.
    Every time he rode through the country, they found another. The placement of the corpses was no coincidence.
    “Bring the man to my office. I’ll fetch the queen. If I can pry her away from that nosy maid, Margit.” Mikka was his best adviser since Jaylor had deserted him. Raised to be a queen, Mikka knew how to listen and observe. From a quiet place in the corner she often saw things that Darville missed, like gestures and postures suggesting lies and deceit. “We will discuss the military situation later, just before the lords regather, Andrall,” he said as he dismissed the lord.
    “They will be here momentarily, Your Grace,” Andrall reminded him. They’d met here, behind the Council Chamber for that reason.
    “Then tell them I am detained. I need an hour.”
    “Yes, Your Grace.” Andrall bowed his head in grudging acquiescence.
    Three years ago the Council might have taken advantage of Darville’s absence to vote for invasion. Now, however, he knew they’d wait for their king.
    Minutes later, Fred hustled a slim young man wearing the white robes adopted by the Gnostic Utilitarian cult into the king’s office. Cut in the same manner as the red-robed priests of the Stargods, the white was symbolic of their purity from the taint of magic.
    Mikka’s eyes narrowed at first sight of the man. Her nose twitched with suspicion and she withdrew deeper into her window seat. If anyone had reason to fear this cult, ’twas the queen. Magic was still illegal in Coronnan and she possessed a great deal of magical talent. The cult had been known to denounce those who claimed to be the victims of magic as well the perpetrators. Knowledge of the cat persona trapped within Mikka’s body would draw their outrage and fuel the pleas for Darville to put her aside as his queen.
    So far he’d been able to avoid confronting the issue of her inability to bear him an heir. How much longer before he was forced by lords and populace alike to bring in a distant and foreign relative or divorce Mikka?
    “Your Grace,” the spy bowed deeply, but his eyes darted furtively into every corner as he moved. “I have not much time. I must either return to my dwelling before I am discovered missing or leave the country within the hour.” He continued to search the shadows for any sign of listeners. His eyes lingered on the queen in the window seat, then darted back to Fred for reassurance.
    “I will protect you . . . uh, your name was not given to me. Please sit down.” Darville leaned back in his demi-throne, adopting a position of ease. He hoped the spy would become comfortable enough to speak freely.
    “My name is best kept secret from all but the Stargods. No one is safe from the Gnuls, sir. No one. They’ll torture and kill me without hesitation if they suspect where my allegiance lies.” His pale skin lost more color as he shivered inside his robe. He remained standing, poised to dart out of the room at the first sign of trouble.
    “Then tell us quickly. What have you learned?” Darville sat forward, frowning. None of his appointed magistrates had the authority to overlook such outrages.
    “Life has been quiet and prosperous for nearly three full years. People don’t really fear magic when life is good, and the Gnuls have lost a lot of followers. The sacrifices at the Equinox Pylons have been engineered by the Gnuls to frighten the people. Cats and dogs at first. Pigs and goats will come later if they have to. They discuss bringing suspected witches and magicians to justice at the next holiday.” He stared at the queen a silent moment. “But I’ve never found evidence of an innocent or a child becoming a victim. The evidence of human sacrifice always comes from someone in the next village who heard it from a cousin’s sister-in-law, or some such.” The last words faded away and he refused to look up from the floor.
    “There is more,” Mikka whispered. They all heard her quiet words. “What do you fear telling us, Spy?” Her hands trembled as they stroked the nap of her gown.
    The spy looked to the door again as if he needed to escape immediately.
    “Tell me, Spy,” Darville demanded. “What else have you learned?”
    “Rumors only.”
    “Rumors! I hate rumors. Tell me so that I may squash them before they are lifted into the wind and become the truth for all who hear them.”
    “The queen, sir,” he said so quietly Darville