Snake Heart (Chains of Honor #2) -Lindsay Buroker Page 0,101

like I said.”

“Your clan doesn’t receive increased status because of his war fame and presidency?”

Dak’s expression grew sour. “Our status was fine before he came along.”

For the first time, Yanko got a hint as to why Dak might be... surly, as Lakeo said. Or maybe the term was bitter. Had he grown up in his uncle’s shadow? Long before Turgonia had switched from an empire to a republic that had needed a president, Fleet Admiral Sashka Federias Starcrest had been famous—infamous, from the Nurian point of view—for his battle tactics. He had sunk countless Nurian ships during the war. He might have even encountered Pey Lu. Yanko had no way to know who had come out ahead in that encounter, but the senior Starcrest clearly hadn’t been utterly destroyed.

“Did you become a soldier because of him?” Yanko asked, then wondered if he should have dropped it and moved on to the proposition that was tinkling around in the back of his head, a proposition that could get him killed back home if anyone heard about it. Any minute, he expected Dak to decide the conversation was over and return to studying the atlas.

“I suppose. My father works in the orchard and spends his days mixing hard ciders to produce the best varietals for the family business. I thought it was incredibly boring and was enraptured by the stories that made it home about my uncle’s exploits. I studied math and engineering in school, with a notion of following in his footsteps, but by the time I was graduating from the military academy—not four years early, as he’d done—the Western Sea Conflict was over, and nobody thought there would be open trouble with Nuria again for a while. I also found that the expectations, wherever I went, were insane, just because I was his relative. I couldn’t imagine commanding soldiers and having them expect his brilliance from me.” And then disappointing them, the sour, almost pained look in Dak’s eye said, even if he didn’t speak the words. “I went into intelligence instead. Your work is less visible, and you’re not commanding hordes of men on a ship or a battlefield. That’s where I had languages training.”

“And mage-hunter training?” Yanko could see where that would be useful for someone who would be an operative working in countries where magic was accepted and commonplace. It would be hard to be a spy if every telepath could read one’s thoughts.

“Just the resisting magic part of it. They’ve got a mage hunter who defected after the war, because of family dishonor, I believe.” Dak raised his eyebrows at Yanko. What did that mean? That he thought Yanko should defect? “He teaches the soldiers in the program who have an aptitude for it. I had a hard skull and took to it naturally.” He snorted. “What a skill.”

“It’s been useful for you here in this mission.”

“This mission? This is your mission. I was sent to your country to gather information about the rebel factions and to free prisoners of war, wrongfully taken ones. We have a treaty with your people right now and are not at war.” Dak’s stare grew cool.

As if Yanko had been the one to capture Turgonians and throw them into the salt mine. He doubted his uncle had had anything to do with that, either. He’d likely just put them to work when they had shown up, along with the criminals. For all he knew, the Turgonians had been criminals.

Dak’s gaze shifted back toward the atlas. Bored with the conversation, was he?

Yanko paced on the hard metal floor, aware of the coldness under his bare feet. Didn’t Turgonians believe in rugs? Kei ruffled his feathers again and made a few chirping noises, probably letting Yanko know he was interrupting the bird’s sleep.

While he paced, he debated what he wanted to propose—what he dared propose. Perhaps he could ask for Dak’s help without proposing anything, but it sounded like attacking Sun Dragon or, as Yanko would settle for, throwing Sun Dragon overboard, might violate Dak’s orders and put his former bodyguard at odds with the chain of command on this ship.

“If you were studying the rebels,” Yanko said slowly, “then you know more than I do about what’s going on at home. Is there a certain faction that your people want to come out on top? Or are you hoping that it will all die down before the real fighting begins and that the Great Chief will remain in control?” That would