Warrior

by Bryan Davis

  “After all these years, we will finally go back,” Magnar said in the dragon language.

  Arxad responded in a garble, finishing with, “Hide in the wilderness until Taushin resurrects the Northlands star. Then we can use her to restore the kingdom to you.”

  “Do you think Taushin will be so easily defeated?” Magnar asked.

  More garbled words spewed.

  “Do you intend to bully everyone into cooperation?” Arxad asked.

  As scratchy sounds veiled the conversation, Taushin shuffled closer, his ears standing up straight.

  “If necessary,” Magnar said.

  Again, noise overwhelmed the conversation. This time the dragon images flickered in concert with the interference.

  “Go back,” Taushin shouted. “Make him speak again! I must hear Magnar’s treacherous plan!”

  “I’m trying!” Breathing heavily, Koren focused on Arxad and Magnar. Concentrate. Sharpen the view. That was probably within her power. But go back and retell the tale? Was that even possible?

  The scene jumbled, warped, as if the two dragons battled. The interference spiked. Jagged lines fractured the image. Then, in a splash of light, it disappeared.

  As a bead of sweat coursed down Koren’s cheek, she turned slowly toward Taushin. His eyes burned a purplish hue. With a growl, he mumbled his words, too low for the crowd to hear. “Turn to the others, so that I may see them as I speak.”

  Swallowing, Koren pivoted on her heels. She let her gaze sweep across the blank stares, imagining Taushin’s angry eyes looking through her own. Were hers just as fiery? Maybe so. But the people gave her no indication. They had already been entranced by her hypnotic power.

  “As you witnessed,” Taushin called out, “Magnar has departed to a secret hiding place that the Starlighter cannot reach. He and Arxad desire to usurp me and destroy my plans to release every human on the planet.”

  Koren boiled inside. She wanted to shout, “He didn’t say that,” but the words died in her throat. It did sound like Magnar was planning a rebellion. But Arxad?

  “As you saw for yourselves,” Taushin continued, “even Arxad is in league with the traitor. If he returns, I trust that anyone who sees him will report it to his dragon master immediately. Yet we have nothing to fear. We have the Starlighter, who will monitor the traitors’ schemes so that your future liberty is assured. She will continue to be the mediator between humans and dragons, and her power will be a sign to you that the age of free humans is about to dawn.”

  Koren wanted to look at Zena and Petra, but she had to keep scanning the audience until the dark prince’s sermon ended. His scheme had grown crystal clear. She would continue mesmerizing everyone while he spoke, ensuring that his version of truth penetrated their minds and locked in place. Not having sight, he seemed immune to her tale-telling dance and the images she conjured, though he could see them through her eyes.

  She let out a quiet sigh. What could she do? Watch for Arxad and warn him? Dare she risk Petra’s safety? Of course, trading one life to save hundreds made logical sense, but the thought ripped a hole in her heart. Might there be a way for her to save everyone?

  Finally, Taushin finished his speech and dismissed the crowd. Koren stood quietly on the top step, watching the dragons and humans stream away.

  “It is time to go,” Zena said from behind her. “I’m sure you must be exhausted after that ordeal. I can draw you a warm bath, and you can—”

  “No, thank you.” Koren kept her stare straight ahead. “May I stay here and think a while?”

  “Of course. Petra and I will make preparations for you.”

  Koren nodded. Of course Petra had to go. She was the anchor that kept Koren from running away.

  Taushin sidled up to her and whispered, “I must go as well. Zena will guide me. Just remember, I see what you see. No matter where you are, with Zena’s power I am able to find you.”

  When the sound of his dragging tail faded, a new draconic voice whispered from the side. “Starlighter, gaze not this way. Even if you must pluck out your eyes, cast not those shining jewels upon me. The sake of every dragon and every human in every world depends on your deference to my command.”

  Koren looked in the opposite direction. The newcomer spoke in a lyrical cadence, and his odd choice of words made his identity clear. “Tamminy?”

  “Yes. It is I, the ancient singer, the bard who is blessed to see beyond mortal vision, yet cursed to sense an ill wind before it arrives. Such a wind is mounting on the horizon, and you carry its portending odor. Taushin sees through you, I know. The blue in his blind orbs flashes, and your eyes echo the light, like thunder chasing a lightning bolt. As a verdant meadow fades in a scorched land, your green eyes have tasted the fury, and they are withering. They are taking on the color of coldness, the color of death. Yet, when you resist, I see the sparkle of life return. Flashes of green signal that hope remains. You are able to overcome.”

  Koren blinked. A battle in her eyes? They burned a little, but wasn’t it from lack of sleep? “How did you pay such close attention? Everyone else was hypnotized. Weren’t you?”

  “I know secrets, Starlighter, old secrets, mysteries lost, and mysteries locked away. Your gift is a buried treasure that has been unearthed, and those who look upon it with greed in their hearts are captured by its allure. Few are those who are immune to the call of hidden knowledge. They long for a taste of its magic. For some, it is a fresh flavor on their gossiping tongues, a tale that elevates them over a neighbor, a cheap and passing pleasure. For others, it is a door to advantage. In the race between men or between dragons, the one who holds the gems of history will surely bypass the ignorant competitors. Only a few are immune—prophets, who see beyond the glitter to the heart of wisdom; the blind, who see nothing but feel the power of knowledge; and fools, who perceive neither wisdom nor knowledge, and even the glitter bounces off their glazed eyes.”

  Koren drank in his poetic words, very nearly swaying to his rhythmic delivery. “Okay. I think I understand. What do you want to tell me?”

  “Your countenance betrays you. You serve Taushin by force. I perceive an invisible collar around your throat, bonds that choke your freedom of will. Your friend, the mute waif, is a hostage, and love for her is a barbed hook that keeps you from running. Your freedom is a sham. You are still a slave.”

  Keeping her head turned, Koren nodded. “Do you have a solution?”

  “There is only one who can give aid to both humans and dragons, the only one who cares for both with equal weight. He is an intercessor, a lover of truth and justice, a defender of the defenseless.”

  “Arxad? It looked like he was leaving with Magnar. Didn’t you see it?”

  “I saw beyond his exit to the world of humans. Arxad did not leave of his own accord. He was bound by oath to Magnar. To a dragon of integrity, such a chain surpasses any material restraints. He is also bound by love, for he knows what Magnar craves—dominion, oppression, and lust for bowed backs—and Arxad’s love of liberty is a passion that conquers all other loves.”

  “What will he decide to do?”

  “I cannot see the future, fair lass. I merely sing the Creator’s songs. I do see, however, a war raging within Arxad. He longs to be here to guide the hatchling’s rise to power, for history teaches that a young king is a river. Such a river can be channeled into a reservoir that quenches the thirst of those he rules, but without the stones of wisdom on each bank, the river can flood and destroy all it was designed to nourish.

  “I believe Arxad hopes to return as soon as his chains allow. But he must honor his principles and restrain the madness of the former king. So, for now, Arxad is Magnar’s shadow, and he will stay with his brother until his chains are broken.”

  “His brother? Magnar and Arxad are brothers?”

  “Twin brothers. Rare are they, for most dragonesses lay but one egg during each cycle, and even then, perhaps half never hatch. In my long and tiresome lifetime, I have never known of
twin eggs hatching, apart from these two, and they are as different as Starlight and Darksphere—in color, in caution, and in character.”

  Koren imagined two younglings, one reddish and one tawny, nestled together in the midst of two shattered shells. They appeared in front of her, ghostly in aspect as they slept. It seemed impossible that Arxad was ever so small. He had always been Master, Lord of the household, not a defenseless youngling.

  As she took a cleansing breath, the image faded away. “What can you do in the meantime?” she asked. “What can I do?”

  “For your part, you must not completely succumb to Taushin’s influence. Eventually Arxad will return, and you must be of sound enough mind to rebel against Taushin in order to help Arxad. But first we must take care of the speechless lamb, or else your love for her will be too great a chain.”

  Koren pictured herself shackled to Petra. Tamminy was right. Her love for Petra was an invisible chain, and Taushin would always keep it in place. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Taushin’s coronation will take place this afternoon in the presence of the Separators. When he is officially king, he will be in position to do as he pleases, and I expect that he will use your power to impose his will.” After a brief pause, Tamminy added, “Dark forces are hastening to possess you, child. You must escape with all speed.”

  A shiver ran up Koren’s spine. “I know, but how can I escape? Can you help me?”

  “Meet me in the theater room in one hour, and bring Petra with you. Of course, you will have to get away from Taushin and Zena and, again, avoid looking at me. So you must be clever. If, on the other hand, they happen to fall asleep, we will be able to converse eye to eye.”

  “That’s not likely. Not in the middle of the day.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Tamminy said.

  Koren forced down a painful swallow. “One hour. I’ll be there.”

  fifteen

  Elyssa jogged along a narrow path, following Wallace, who now carried a sword. Earlier, he had stowed the book in a cart used for hauling stones. After laying a blanket over it, he covered the cart with branches and fronds and hid it in a dense part of the forest. He then went home where he borrowed a shirt and retrieved a sword one of the slaves had hidden long ago. A number of legends had arisen concerning where it came from, but few dared to talk about actually using it. It seemed a pitiful weapon when compared to the firepower of a dragon.

  As they hurried toward the cattle camp, Elyssa clutched the glowing sphere, trying not to lose her battle with dizziness. Concentrating on Wallace’s feet helped, though the constant jiggling incited a bout of nausea.

  A few minutes later, he slowed to a halt at a vine-covered wall. A waist-high wooden box with a padlocked lid stood nearby, apparently a storage unit of some kind. While taking deep breaths, he turned to Elyssa. “This is the cattle camp. Now I just have to find the hole Koren and I used to sneak through. I’m sure we’re close. We always used this food bin to mark the spot when we returned in the dark.”

  “A food bin.” Elyssa touched the roughened top. “For the cattle children?”

  Wallace nodded. “Locked tight, though. The dragon guard holds the key.”

  Elyssa glanced at the hand that held the sphere. “Perhaps we can find a way to get that key. Not only will the children likely be hungry, but I’m starving as well.”

  “If they’re eating what I did when I was in there, it’s nothing you would want to eat.”

  She caught the emphasized you. “What do you mean?”

  Shrugging, he directed his gaze at the base of the wall. “Nothing, really. I just suspect that you’re used to better food than we eat. Compared to us, you’re royalty.”

  Elyssa flinched. Royalty? Arxad had already accused her of acting like a queen. Was she being too bossy? Too self-assured? Since she was so thin because of her stay in the dungeon, Wallace couldn’t possibly think she was well-fed. He must have had a different reason for calling her royalty, maybe her penchant for skipping steps. She needed to be more careful.

  She looked at the ground. “Let’s keep moving.”

  Shielded above by arching branches, he bent low and scuffled through the undergrowth, pushing his finger through the gaps in the vines to test the blocks of stone at the bottom. After testing three blocks, he stopped. “Here it is.”

  While Elyssa stooped next to him, he pulled a few thorny vines to the side, braced his feet against a root, and pushed a knee-high foundation stone with his hands. As he grunted, his face turned red. “It’s not as loose as before. I guess it hasn’t been used in a while.”

  Elyssa knelt close and added her weight. The stone slowly gave way, leaving behind a low hole, perhaps two-feet square. Elyssa lowered her head to the opening. Since the stone was still in the way, wiggling through while continuing to shove would be quite a chore. “This won’t be easy.”

  “It’s loosened up now,” Wallace said. “We’re stronger than Koren and I were back then. We should be able to do it.”

  Elyssa began unfastening Wallace’s sword with one hand. “You go first and push it the rest of the way. When you’re clear, I’ll reach your sword through.”

  Wallace grinned. “You remind me of Koren. She wasn’t shy about telling me what to do.”

  Elyssa tried to return his smile, but it wilted. His remark felt like yet another jab at her queenly behavior.

  Wallace dropped to his belly and, digging in with his elbows, crawled through the opening. After nearly a minute of muffled grunts, he called from the other side. “I’m clear.”

  After passing the sword to him, she belly-crawled through the hole. When she reached the other side, he pointed with his sword and nodded. “That way.”

  As they jogged into the wall-enclosed landscape, Wallace slightly in front, Elyssa measured the area with her mind. The vine-covered wall extended both ways about a mile and curved to form an ellipse. The opposite wall stood about a mile and a half across the way, easily visible over the flat expanse of pebbly terrain and dry grass. The dead body they had seen from the top of the wall during their last visit was now gone.

  A few trees dotted the area, but only a sparse collection of leaves hung on each one. They seemed as starved as the cattle children likely were. Elyssa rubbed her thumb and finger together. Water ran somewhere nearby, likely the stream they had seen from the wall earlier, but it wasn’t in sight now.

  Wallace explained the children’s duties. As she had seen in the mesa, the pheterone miners cut out stones, and mining children piled them on rafts and sent them floating on the stream. When the raft entered the cattle camp through a gateway in the wall, the cattle children collected the stones in pails, and, as the raft floated along, they hauled the stones to the stream’s exit from the camp. There they dumped the stones back onto the raft, and it departed through another gateway.

  Elyssa fumed. Pure evil. The dragons designed this useless labor as a way to strengthen the toughest children while killing the weaker ones. These human beings were lower than cattle in the dragons’ eyes.

  Soon the stream came into view, flowing left to right. Dozens of children milled about between the water and a ten-foot- high mound of dirt. They appeared to range from about three to maybe ten years old, walking aimlessly as they looked up at the sky with dull, vacant expressions. Smeared with dirt and blood, nearly all had narrow, bare chests, and the older ones wore ragged short trousers while the younger ones wore loin cloths or nothing at all.

  With only two skinny trees separating her from the pathetic little slaves, a strange sense of exposure made Elyssa shiver. While she spent years in relative luxury, these half-naked children suffered in cruel bondage, lacking food, suffering lashes, and uselessly hoisting stones half their size, day after day after day with no hope for release from their torture.

  Elyssa slowed to a halt, laid her arms over her chest, and wept. As she watched the suffering playing out before her eyes, suddenly she was the naked one. In all her dungeon daydreams abou
t this journey to the dragon planet, the slaves had been smiling, grateful, even awed at her heroic feats. But this …

  Stripped of the pride that she would be a valiant rescuer, shame replaced her snobbery. With her soul undressed, it seemed that every emotion spilled out with her flowing tears.

  Wallace stopped and looked back at her. “It breaks your heart, doesn’t it?”

  “And a lot more.” She wiped the tears with a thumb. “Let’s get these kids out of here.”

  A small girl, maybe six years old, ran toward them, staying quiet as she glanced several times at the children behind her. When she arrived, naked from the waist up and just as dirty as the others, she whispered, “Have you come to take us out of here?”

  “Yes,” Wallace said. “How did you know?”

  “A woman swore that she would rescue us.” The girl pointed at Elyssa. “She’s about your size, only her hair doesn’t go past her shoulders, and she’s more muscular.”

  Elyssa imagined a more toned version of herself. The only picture that came to mind was the sword maiden anyone in Mesolantrum would think about if given the same description. “Was her name Marcelle?”

  The girl’s brow shot up into her jagged bangs. “So she did send you!”

  Elyssa looked at Wallace. “Marcelle is one of the believers from back home. I knew she was trying to get here, and she fits the description.” She laid a hand on the girl’s sun-bronzed shoulder. “What’s your name?”

  “Erin. But only my friends call me that. Most of the bigger ones just call me Dirt Squirt.”

  Elyssa tried to smile, but the girl’s pathetic visage made it impossible. Her hair, braided into a matted, dirty rope, swung like a mongrel’s tail across her back, brushing at least five whip marks, two still red and angry.

  “Well, Erin,” Elyssa said, swiping at another emerging tear, “we are here to rescue you.” She looked up at the sky. “Are any dragons around?”

  “One. He said everyone else is locked down, so we don’t have to work. Now we’re all just waiting for food, but it might take a long time, because most of the dragons are busy hunting for someone.” Erin’s face contorted into a worried frown. “Could they be hunting for Marcelle?”