"Do you know how to move heavy stone?"
Arakhan shook his head. "Not much stone in Arghast Desert."
"I guess it's up to us, then," Sinjin said, turning at Kendra.
"We'll find a way," Kendra said.
As if summoned by her words, a young member of the Dragon Clan ran up, holding a pigeon. It bore a message. Sinjin smiled. The birds were working out well, even if he had to send many birds to get a single message through; it was better than being cut off from Dragonhold and the Vestrana.
After removing the tiny, rolled parchment wrapped around the bird's leg, Sinjin saw a simple note. Send stone chairs and Brother Vaughn in exchange for equal weight in food and goods. No dragons. As soon as he saw the words, his mouth watered. There were things from the Godfist all of them longed for and could not have. If this was a chance to open up trade with the people of the Godfist, Trinda Hollis aside, then it could be a boon for him and his people.
"It sounds like a trap," Durin said. "I wouldn't put it past her. That girl has issues. And she's sneaky."
"And why ask for Brother Vaughn?" Kendra asked.
"I really don't know," Brother Vaughn said. "Though I'll admit I'm not certain I wish to go. It's a long voyage by boat, and I don't remember seeing any docked in the bay. And she said no dragons."
Sinjin's visions of sausage breads and cheese faded.
Chapter 8
Potential is often smothered by doubt.
--Brother Vaughn, Cathuran monk
* * *
Within the dry dock, ropes sang with tension, as four regal dragons lowered the stone chair directly into the Serpent's hold. Even as a group, the weight was almost too much for the mighty beasts. Valterius bellowed and Gerhonda responded, as did Atherian and Grekka, ridden by Arakhan and Mikala. The four strained and struggled to work together against the wind and the weight; it was a perilous and risky venture, and it was just the beginning.
"I know they say I'm insane," Kenward said, "but this is beyond even my foolhardiness. Everything my mother has ever said to me tells me not to do this."
Those words made Sinjin consider his options once again. They could send for a traditional ship, but that would take months. The Dragon's Wing could do the job, but she wasn't due back from the Greatland for weeks either.
"The Wing is a faster ship, yes?" Brother Vaughn asked. "I mean no offense, of course."
"Under certain conditions," Kenward admitted grudgingly. "The journey between the Firstland and the Godfist is dangerous due to far more than just distance. A single storm can add weeks to the voyage. Those seas are among the stormiest I know, and it can be impossible to avoid them on the open seas. The Serpent can sometimes fly above storms that would relegate the Dragon's Wing back into the waves. The Serpent does not require someone with access to Istra's powers to stay aloft, which makes her the faster vessel under many circumstances."
Brother Vaughn nodded. "It's said that Catrin and Kyrien made the trip in under a week."
"If that is true," Kenward said with a shiver. "I suspect it was not an entirely natural occurrence."
Again, Brother Vaughn nodded.
"There is no way Valterius and I can travel that fast--at least not that I know of," Sinjin added. "We would be at the mercy of the winds as much or more than either ship."
Brother Vaughn sighed in frustration.
"I'm not even certain the Serpent can handle the weight," Kenward said.
Brother Vaughn stood next to Kenward, looking no more confident. When the throne had been lowered into place, the knots in his guts snatched tighter, making him fear he would be sick. It was the least of his troubles.
With but one stone chair in place, Sinjin and Kendra dismounted, knowing the ship could carry no more. Still, two trips with the Serpent should be faster than a single sea voyage.
"Trinda isn't going to be happy," Kendra said.
Sinjin shrugged.
The other Drakon went back to their usual business, some flying out to sea in search of fish bulky enough to feed growing dragons, others soaring low through the valleys or high above on patrol. Soon that rhythm would be disrupted, but Sinjin enjoyed the new familiarity while it lasted. The awkward ship reminded him change was inevitable and moving at a pace unrivaled in history.
"We've discussed this," Kendra said to Kenward. "Without most of your crew aboard, you'll need far fewer supplies, which will offset the additional weight."
"Myself, two crewmen, and him?" Kenward asked. "I mean no insult, Brother Vaughn, but you aren't trained in the workings of this airship, and your usefulness will be limited. That's about enough people to operate the boiler and man the tiller. What about the sails and rigging, and the lookout? Do you think the monk is going to climb to the crow's nest?"
Brother Vaughn said nothing, knowing that climb was truly beyond his abilities or desires.
"How much of your crew do you plan to leave behind?" Kendra asked.
"I don't want to leave any of them behind," Kenward sulked.
"And once you're in the air, you'll know if the Serpent can support more weight, correct?"
"I suppose so, yes," Kenward said.
"Then I'll bring Bryn on Gerhonda and we'll lower them onto your deck. Is that satisfactory?"
"That's a dangerous plan," Brother Vaughn said. "Gerhonda could easily get hung up in the rigging."
"That's why I didn't offer to have the Drakon ferry more of the crew onto the ship once she's in the air," Kendra said. "However, one or two I think we can handle. And if it truly is too dangerous, then we'll abort the mission."
"Don't mind my wife," Sinjin said. "She hasn't had sausage bread in too long, and the thought of Godfist food is perhaps more than she can bear." She elbowed him in the ribs. "You don't have to do anything you don't think you can handle. We could just wait until the Dragon's Wing arrives. I don't think she'll have any trouble."
"I may be pushy," Kendra whispered in his ear, "but you're evil."
Brother Vaughn remained silent. Part of him wanted to return to Dragonhold and see all those he'd left behind. Leaving his wife, Mirta, in Windhold was not something he wanted, especially since he had just been gone to the Heights for so long. He'd also sworn never to board the Serpent again, let alone the Serpent with a skeleton crew and too much weight in the hold. Kenward had said he thought the ship would float, despite not being water tight, but the truth was that the Serpent had never touched the water and there was no way to know what would happen if she ever came down over the seas. This was particularly disconcerting knowing just how much water they'd have to cross to reach the Godfist.
"Where are the minstrels among you?" Kenward said. "Songs" will be sung of this."
Brother Vaughn swallowed hard. He'd secretly been hoping Kenward would refuse, for he could not. He'd long ago taken an oath to put the good of those around him before his own needs. It was an oath some of his order interpreted loosely, but Brother Vaughn had lived his life in accordance with his vows, and he wasn't about to stop now. His bravery had difficulty matching his nobility, though, and his knees trembled.
"I'll not ask anyone to board the Serpent unless they wish it," Kenward said. "I know she'll fly, but you must find your own belief."
Farsy stepped forward without hesitation. He'd been with Kenward the longest and trusted the man implicitly. Nimsy and Sevon stepped forward next, and neither said a word; they just took their places next to Farsy, having been integral in the design of the more experimental parts of the ship. Though new to the crew, Sevon's nimble fingers and uncanny understanding of mechanics had proven invaluable. All had known they were the captain's first choice, and they were unwilling to let him down; risking their lives for Kenward had long since lost its chill.
Next Bryn stepped forward, despite knowing he might not get aboard. He looked as if he were trying hard not to think about what he was getting himself into.
"Very well," Kenward said after a prolonged silence. "Farsy, Nimsy, and Sevon, pack the c
oal bins tight, stoke the fires, fill the barrels, and check the ropes. More weight requires more fuel, which means more weight. Anything more, and I'll have no crew at all. Bryn, you ride with the lady. May you find your way safely to my deck once again."
Bryn nodded solemnly. The Serpent's crew responded to these orders, and the ship was soon nearly ready to fly. Farsy and Nimsy manned the fires from belowdecks, and Sevon worked amid the rigging. Brother Vaughn wished the man well; all their lives depended on his work, which was something he tried not to think about.
Slowly the wind socks filled, the air pulling at them, and the Serpent sat lightly in the dry dock. Kenward rushed about the ship, checking and double-checking things usually the responsibility of others. His frantic movements did little to ease the knots in Brother Vaughn's gut. It was a terrifying feeling to know you were about to gain the air with no way of knowing if you would fly or come crashing back down. Trinda had requested him by name, and Kenward was unwilling to risk having Brother Vaughn flown in by dragon. The monk reconsidered the decision. Now that the time had come, flying in became more appealing.
"Maybe the dragons could escort the Serpent until we get near the Godfist," Brother Vaughn said as the wind picked up.
Black smoke belched from the chimstack, and the socks billowed one last time before snapping taut in the wind. The sound of flakewood grinding against stone gave the impression the ship was being torn apart. Those aboard had secured themselves and were as prepared for this as they could be, but there was nothing that could completely prepare a person for being taken by a sudden gust of wind with sail and wind socks fluttering around you.
A rocky shoreline rushed toward them, scrubby trees ready to provide a final embrace, Brother Vaughn screamed; he was not alone. The Serpent spun out of control, losing what little altitude they had. Shouting came from above as well, but he could not understand what was being said. The only thought his mind could comprehend was that he was about to die. Wings flashed by and Brother Vaughn saw Bryn leaning out with a gaff and trying to free a snagged rope. His valiant effort lacked the strength or leverage to free it. What the young man had done, though, was show Gerhonda exactly what needed doing, and she used her claws to untwist the lines securing the wind socks. The ropes snapped taut with a whip like sound, and the prow moved upward, righting the ship. Dragons latched on to the Serpent from all sides and helped to lift the otherwise doomed ship away from the jagged shoreline. Branches smashed into the hull even as the dragons strained, and black smoke filled the air.
Taking deep breaths, Brother Vaughn did his best to not hyperventilate. The ship gained the air, and the dragons peeled away, one by one. Kenward guided the ship out over the water, where the air was cooler. The Serpent did not fly as high as she had in the past, despite the fires radiating heat through the slats of the deck. Gerhonda and Kendra came closer, Bryn riding anxiously behind Kendra and still wielding a gaff.
"I'm sorry, m'boy," Kenward shouted over the sound of his hissing and whirring ship. "There's just too much weight. I can't get her higher than this without throwing the monk overboard."
Brother Vaughn swallowed, not entirely certain he was joking.
"May the winds be kind and bring you home," Kendra said. Gerhonda turned and wheeled away, back toward Windhold.
Bryn's expression made it clear he longed to be on the ship, and Brother Vaughn felt bad for having taken his place. Trinda had given him no choice. What she could want with him, he had no idea, but he did not fear the girl. It was the waters separating them he dreaded most. Again, he wished the dragons would escort them, but he also understood the Drakon were still in survival mode and could scarcely afford to lose their most valuable resources for weeks or months on end. Still, a single dragon and rider could not have hurt, and they would soon burn enough fuel and consume enough rations to allow for additional weight. If Kendra and Bryn were not already beyond earshot, he would have called them back and begged.
Kenward approached with a smile on his face. That worried Brother Vaughn more than anything. "How are you with a shovel?" Kenward asked, his grin never fading.
* * *
Approaching Dragonhold was surreal. The Pinook Valley was wide, providing sufficient room to move, but Kenward still kept them as high as he could, which wasn't high enough to clear the peaks. It also wasn't high enough to reach what Kenward knew was an airship dock atop Dragonhold. It was from there Trinda had saved Brother Vaughn from the ferals. Kenward reminded himself of that act. She had been kind to him, and she had treated the people of the Godfist well. He had no quarrel with her, save the actual taking of Dragonhold. It was something he would need to bury deeply and quickly. The wrong words within the hold could get them all killed, no matter how kind she'd been in the past.
Denied the proper airship dock, Kenward reluctantly flew toward the main entrance to Dragonhold, which was far grander than when he'd last seen it. Rising from the valley floor was a bulwark to dwarf any other on Godsland. The stairways, once exposed to dragon attacks, were now concealed within white stone fascia. Near the top, construction continued, and the old gates remained in place. These gates had served Dragonhold well since their hasty construction and would still deny the Serpent entrance should the child queen wish it. The gates ponderously swung open. Kenward gripped the wheel, watching the approach with intense concentration. The Serpent had yet to land the same way twice.
The entrance to Dragonhold was large enough to admit them into the towering great hall, but there wasn't much extra height. Gusting crosswinds made this an even more perilous endeavor.
"We're going to have to come in fast," Kenward shouted. "We need all the air in the socks, and all the thrust we can muster. We can come in a little high, but we can't come in too low. The socks will likely catch, so be ready for a rough landing."
Brother Vaughn secured himself to the rail and stood with his knees bent. When Kenward warned of a rough landing, a wise man took it seriously. The valley felt much smaller, as Kenward guided the ship lower and lower. Towering stone walls rushed by in a blur, giving evidence to their speed. Too fast, thought Brother Vaughn. Kenward held his course. The mighty gates were now open as wide as they would go. Height wasn't the only issue; the opening was narrow as well.
"This is going to be close, people," Kenward shouted. "Brace yourselves!"
There were no dragons here to save them this time, and if Kenward misjudged, it could be the end of them. Brother Vaughn breathed fast and tried to be brave. It made him feel somewhat better when Kenward's screams matched his own.
The mountain consumed them. With little more than a whispered brush, the Serpent entered Dragonhold like an albatross--beautiful in flight yet awkward and dangerous when landing. Not everyone had been expecting an airship to enter the hold, and people scattered in all directions as the Serpent dropped to the cold stone and skidded. Slowly the Serpent rotated and slid, the wind socks cast forward by a gust even as the mighty gates swung shut. The jarring impact and subsequent bouncing threatened to shake the ship apart.
Brother Vaughn stood on trembling knees and couldn't help but feel anxious as the gates blotted out the sky. They were left in torchlight, which struck Brother Vaughn as ironic since Trinda had the largest stockpile of herald globes in existence. He knew there were a few in private collections that had escaped her grasp. It stung knowing the one Catrin had given him personally was among Trinda's hoard. It wasn't the kind of thing one forgot. He was also reminded of the cube he'd lost. Ever since he'd discovered its true purpose, he'd wanted to get back to Dragonhold and find out just what could be locked away with such an elaborate key.
The Serpent issued black smoke and steam for some time after entering the great hall, and Brother Vaughn wondered if it wouldn't be wise to open the gates enough to let the wind carry it away. As it was, most people were coughing and moving away from the main hall.
"I've allowed this ship within my hold," Trinda suddenly said, and Brother Vaughn looked up to the place from
where her voice had come. Once again, she sat on the oversized throne left by the ancients. She gazed down on Brother Vaughn, and familiar feelings of confusion and distrust washed over him. He'd done what he could to help this girl--woman, Brother Vaughn corrected himself, no matter how she appeared--and she'd turned on those he cared for. And yet she'd cared for many of those he loved as well. Trinda Hollis was an unsolvable puzzle, and he put his feelings aside. He could do some good here, and that was what he intended to do. Foster relations, trading, and in general have a positive impact on the situation. At least that was what he thought he was going to do.
"I want to see the thrones," Trinda said, and Brother Vaughn's blood went cold. "Martik! Have your people unload my cargo."
"Begging your pardon, your highness," Kenward said. "We were only able to transport one of the thrones this trip."
Silence heavier than he'd ever known enveloped the hall.
"You insult me," Trinda said, her voice as cold as the stone surrounding her. "I asked for two thrones, and you have defied me!" As she said these words, Trinda slammed her fist on the throne upon which she sat, her arms nowhere near long enough to reach the actual armrests. She sat in the middle of the throne, like a child's toy. When her fist struck stone, however, it was clear neither was she a toy nor should she be trifled with. Cold air rushed away from her striking fist, chilling whatever it touched and leaving steaming frost in its wake.
Stinging from the cold, Brother Vaughn stepped forward, hoping to defuse the situation. "There was no other way, child," he said, realizing his error even as the words left his lips.
"Do not call me child!"
This time, when Trinda's fist met stone, there was fire. Blue flame radiated outward, singeing everything in its path. Feeling as if he'd been assaulted and smelling burned hair, Brother Vaughn braced himself for the worst.
"You will get whatever supplies you need to make the journey, and you will fetch the remaining throne," Trinda said, and there was no room for argument. At least she was providing supplies. It showed the girl had good sense and was not inclined to cruelty as a matter of course. Trinda Hollis was nothing if not intriguing.
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