The Dragondain

by Richard Due

  “You’re very pretty,” said Ridley, and he giggled.

  Lily glanced at Cora, who grinned back. Suddenly, the spell of Ridley fell apart for good. He became what he was: a cute little boy, badly in need of a good combing.

  Before long, others began to file in. Ren, with her dark red hair and pale face, was easy to recognize, and the younger girl who bore her a sisterly resemblance was surely Prin. Lily smiled inwardly, pleased that she hadn’t had to pull out her notes yet. When Cora introduced Ren and Prin as Arric and Linn’s daughters, Lily fought back the desire to whip out her notepad and write this newness down, instead settling for repeating it to herself over and over.

  She remembered Arric, of course. He was the lunamancer who had worked to save her from Tavin’s paralysis spell, or was it, as Jasper had suggested, Curse’s paralysis spell? Arric’s skin was much darker than Ren and Prin’s, leading Lily to believe that their mother must be quite fair.

  The sisters’ arrival had cast a pall over the room. At first, she had thought Ren’s eyes were puffy from sleep, but now Lily could see they were red from crying. Prin’s too. Then Lily noticed that Cora had stopped meeting her gaze, always seeming to have something else to look at, or something else to do with her hands. The triplets entered this odd scene next, hauling themselves up onto one wide chair and stuffing inexpertly buttered muffins into their eager mouths. No one spoke a word for quite some time. Not until the knocking on the front door.

  Ridley ran from the table and opened a small peephole in the door. There was a short exchange that Lily couldn’t catch before Ridley set about sliding open the stout door’s many bolts.

  A tall blonde girl with sharply cut features strode in first. Darce, thought Lily. She was followed by a younger girl who must be Andra. A boy who could have been Ridley’s age or a little older came next. That would be Teague. The last to enter were two boys as big as men, who Lily knew must be Falin and Grimm. They all hung their riding cloaks, along with their swords and helms, on pegs mounted to either side of the door. Under their cloaks, they wore thick, black leather armor in poor repair. Their boots were the only things that didn’t look ready for the rubbish heap.

  Cora introduced them to Lily as they took their seats at the table, and Lily was pleased that she had correctly identified all five. Falin and Grimm really did look more like men than boys.

  Lily and Cora shoveled plates full of food at them. Strangely, the silence settled again on the table. Lily watched their odd behavior for clues. Falin, Grimm, and Darce hardly looked at Cora, and, conversely, Andra and Teague stared at her, awestruck. What was going on?

  Lily had seen teenage boys eat before, but she was totally unprepared for the amount of food she and Cora served Falin and Grimm—not to mention Darce—that morning. Eggs, potatoes, onions, muffins, bread, something that looked like spinach. They devoured plate after plate of the stuff. Ren, Prin, and Andra, on the other hand, had to be reminded several times by Cora that they needed to eat—that they would need to keep their energy up for the trip.

  Ren and Prin were first to dismiss themselves from the table, wandering through an open door into the courtyard that provided much of the kitchen’s light. Teague and Ridley left next, followed by Darce. Falin and Grimm, the last to finish eating, immediately set to dealing with all the dirty plates, wordlessly pushing Lily and Cora out of the kitchen with nods and grins. Cora thanked them and left to change into her traveling clothes. The triplets, swirling behind their mother’s robes, ascended the staircase with the gusto afforded only to small children and puppy dogs.

  Lily tried to help with the dishes, but Grimm would have none of it.

  Falin nodded his head toward the courtyard. “We won’t be long,” he said. “Go.”

  Everyone outside was sitting, except Darce, who was pacing like a tiger in a cage. None of them looked happy. Prin was holding a handkerchief and looked ill.

  “It’s the way of things,” Darce was saying. “The sooner you get used to it the better.”

  “Leave her alone, Darce,” said Ren. “Not everyone has a heart as cold and black as yours.”

  Darce rounded on Ren like she was meeting a rushing attacker. “People die, Ren! Crying about it isn’t going to change anything.”

  Ren met Darce’s scowl with red, swollen eyes. Darce threw up her hands in disgust and retreated to a corner, where she began to pick at her callused fingertips.

  Lily thought it odd that the only parent in the whole house appeared to be Cora. She asked Ren where her parents were.

  Andra answered instead. “They’ve been sent off,” she said, “They wouldn’t say where, but I’m sure they intend to be at Raewyn’s by nightfall.”

  Lily instantly thought of Tavin again, but Cora had said he wasn’t going. Still, how much could Lily trust Cora? She’d met her only this morning.

  Lily turned to Andra. “They were sent into the wastes?” asked Lily. Andra nodded. “Is Tavin with them?”

  Andra’s lower lip trembled. “No, he isn’t with them.” She turned her face away so Darce couldn’t see her.

  Darce, who had begun her pacing again, let out a hiss of disgust.

  “Then, Tavin’s in the city,” asked Lily, “—in his guardhouse?”

  Teague and Ridley, sitting side by side, stared at the ground.

  When Lily looked at Prin, she shook her head. No one would speak. Lily didn’t know what to feel. Tavin had tried to kill her—or, at least, Curse had tried. And yet, she didn’t want to see anyone dead.

  “Okay, so, he’s not in his guardhouse?” Lily began. “But he’s still somewhere in the city, right?”

  Prin pressed her face into her handkerchief and made a sound that might have been “no” or else it was a sob that just sounded that way.

  “Tell her,” Darce said to Ren. “You were at the wall, you saw as much as anyone.”

  Lily spun to Ren

  Ren licked her lips. “All right.” Ren drew in a shaky breath and let it out slowly. “It happened like this. After Jasper left, Ember came by. She’d wanted to talk to him, I think. She was disappointed he’d gone.” Ren set her jaw. “Tavin’s fever was getting worse.”

  “Ember said that?” asked Lily.

  “Yes. Dubb had spirited Raewyn away to the city the night before. I don’t know what Raewyn said, but nearly everybody left that very night. But not before Cora and my dad, Arric, sealed Tavin up into his guardhouse with a powerful ward that only we could open. We were to feed him three times a day, and make sure the fire was going. Which we did, but he was getting worse with every day. It wasn’t very long before he stopped recognizing us and started saying things that didn’t make any sense. But Tavin is tough. And Cora was making him soups that seemed to help . . . a little, at least for a time.” Ren grimaced, weaving her fingers in and out of her long hair. “And then,” she swallowed, “yesterday . . .”—her face was strained—“it came.”

  “What came?” Lily looked about the room, but no one would meet her eye, except Darce, who met her gaze through slitted eyes, her face half turned away. Lily rounded on Ren. “What came, Ren?”

  “A blackmage.” Ren sucked in a lungful of air. “It came down the valley on horseback, a cold wind licking at its heels. You could sense the terror it brought, rippling through the city. The workers dropped their tools in the fields and fled before it. The way they ran, you would have thought they were being chased by wolves. Prin and I were at the market, trying to buy some fruit that wasn’t spoiled. I tried to stop some of fieldworkers to ask what was going on, but no one would finish a full sentence before running off. One person, though, said a blackmage had stopped at that black patch that Annora and Bree made, and that it lingered—doing things. No one knows what. People shut up their houses all across the city, cowering like sheep.”

  “It came for the black patch?”


  “No. Worse. It wanted to speak to a representative of the crown. They sent Fellbard. He arrived at the wall with his hand-picked Dragondain, who hid behind the broken bits of wall while Fellbard walked halfway out to meet it.”

  “Go on.”

  “Then it made its second demand,” said Ren. “It demanded Tavin be brought out to him. It called him by name.” Ren’s face turned to disgust. “‘Is that all?’ Fellbard laughed. He couldn’t have been more pleased. He sent a dozen Dragondain to pry Tavin out, but none of them could open the door. You see, Tavin’s is one of the old houses, the ones built when being Dragondain meant something. Those houses have their own protection, and now this one had an added ward. So Fellbard sent for the best lunamancers serving the royal court. They labored over that door for hours.”

  “What did Cora do? She must have been frantic!”

  “Mom doesn’t do frantic,” said Ridley.

  “Then what did she do?”

  “She made lunch,” said Ren, holding her head unnaturally high, arching her eyebrows. “She made lunch for all of us, actually. She said it would take them at least three hours to get through Tavin’s door and that there was plenty of time for a good meal—to keep our strength up. Ember showed up just as the first batch of biscuits came out of the oven.”

  “Those biscuits were goooood,” said Falin, who had sat down unnoticed.

  Everyone turned to stare at him.

  “What? Why are you all looking at me like that? They were good, weren’t they?”

  Grimm, who was sitting next to Falin, nodded. “They were delicious. I must have eaten half a plate full.”

  Darce shook her head. Ren exhaled loudly. Lily turned back to Ren.

  “What happened next?”

  “Ember sat down with Cora. They buttered and ate biscuits . . . and chatted,” said Ren simply.

  “About what?”

  “Hair.”

  “Hair?”

  “And . . . clothing, the different styles and colors fashionable at court these days. Finally, news arrived that they had gotten in and were hauling Tavin out. So, Cora and Ember grabbed their cloaks and a picnic basket and left. The only thing she told us was to keep the triplets safe.”

  “What did you do?”

  “There was some debate about that,” said Falin.

  “We made Prin stay with the triplets,” said Darce.

  “The rest of us left as soon as Cora and Ember turned the corner. We made straight for Byrne’s uncle’s house, where Byrne, Alasdair, and Penryn were staying. Then we backtracked to their house and took every bow and quiver we could lay our hands on. They were mostly just target bows, except for Byrne’s. He’s got a hunting bow with a real draw. From there we ran to the west wall as fast as we could manage.”

  “Where was Tavin during this?”

  “They were moving him through the streets. They had bound him before strapping him to a stretcher. They had bound his sword, too, with the hilt by his feet. He was delirious. But we got to the wall first.”

  “We had planned to set up strategic positions along the wall,” said Darce. “But the blackmage was too much for us. The closer we got . . . it was like a sickness churning through our guts.”

  “The fear was something terrible,” said Grimm. “I couldn’t keep the shakes out of my arms and legs.”

  “It affected the ones dragging Tavin’s litter, too. They could barely move for shaking as they neared the wall.”

  “Tavin was fighting them?” asked Lily.

  Ren shook her head. “No. He had no idea where he was, or what was happening. The litter-bearers were just battling that horrible feeling hanging in the air. When they slowed down, Fellbard had to threaten them so they’d get moving again. Even so, they didn’t get halfway before they dropped the litter, running like scared mice. Then that blackmage, he crept closer. Even Fellbard slunk away then. It was the most horrible thing as it approached. Near the end I had a hard time just keeping my eyes open.”

  “Then she came,” said Ren softly.

  Lily wheeled. “Who? Who came?”

  “Illume.”

  “Illume,” repeated Lily, and she delved into her childhood memories. “The Peerinteer! She knows Rinnjinn!”

  Ren looked up, her cheeks damp. “She came just like in the stories, suffused in a pillar of golden light. Trailing behind her was a swath of green life, bursting with tiny flowers all bright like sunshine was pouring over them. She glanced at me when she passed, but I couldn’t make out her eyes or face, just the shape of her in the light. When she got to the wall’s edge, she stopped.”

  “What stories?” Lily wanted to know.

  “She was at the battle of Perianth, after nearly all was lost,” said Grimm. “After Wrengfoul had destroyed the locks, there was nothing left to hold back the ocean. The lower townships began to fill with seawater. That was Wrengfoul’s plan, of course. His armies swarmed the high and middle roads, to trap the inhabitants. But a small group of Dragondain, realizing the danger, had positioned themselves on the southern slopes, where a great number of people had been trapped. Illume appeared and held the Gate of Olamar while the Dragondain emptied the streets and buildings, getting the townspeople behind the safety of Perianth’s walls. If she hadn’t held back Wrengfoul’s forces, they wouldn’t have saved more than a handful. Our dad was there. He was only a little older than us.”

  “My parents were there, too,” added Ren.

  “They were all there,” said Darce. “Even Tavin and Ember. The battle of that gate was the only victory that day. Lot of good it did. The city was still lost in the end, forcing everyone left to flee here to Bairne.”

  Falin turned on Darce. “They saved over a thousand lives!” he said angrily.

  “They lost thousands more,” retorted Darce.

  “Tell me more about the blackmage. What happened with Tavin at the wall?” Lily asked Ren.

  “Turns out Illume and the blackmage knew each other,” said Falin. “So they had a little talk.”

  And Ren reported the exchange:

  “‘Badru!’ Illume said. ‘How good to see you again! I’ve been so looking forward to our next meeting!’ She sounded genuinely happy,” commented Ren. “It was kinda creepy. Badru wasn’t amused, though.

  “‘You!’ said Badru. ‘We thought you were dead.’

  “‘More like prayed, I expect,’ she said. ‘But I’ve been waiting for you, Badru. You and all your ilk. How many are left? Ten? Nine? Soon there will only be eight.’

  “‘You overestimate yourself,’ said Badru.

  “‘Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure. I have only grown in power since last we met. You remember? How many of your brethren did I destroy that day? There were a hundred of you, weren’t there? I took three of you before you realized I was upon you. After that, the rest of them couldn’t rush to their deaths fast enough, could they? How many of you did I strike down that day? What was the final count? Twenty-three? Twenty-four? I never could remember. Now here you are. One desperate blackmage, all by your lonesome.’

  “As though in response,” continued Ren, “Badru leapt forward, parting cupped hands, and unleashed a black bolt that traveled through the air with the swiftness of an arrow. It hit Illume in the side, lifting her off her feet and carrying her backward onto the carpet of flowers.”

  “That’s when I saw her face,” added Ridley. “The black bolt had lodged in her side, just above her hip, spreading outward and extinguishing her light, exposing what lay beneath. I could see half her face, screaming in pain. It was Mama.”

  “Cora?” said Lily, astonished.

  “I rushed to her side. I don’t know how I found the strength, but I did it. A lot of things were happening then. Ren came running too. We formed our peerins. I couldn’t understand what I was looking at,
not enough to undo it, but I could tell it was getting worse fast. We tried to slow it down, to gain time. It was all we could think to do.”

  “Why didn’t the blackmage attack the two of you?” asked Lily.

  “Well,” began Ren, “after it struck Cora, it lifted up its face to the sky and laughed the most terrible laugh. I hope never to hear the like again. I’ll never forget it.”

  “And that was all Tavin needed,” supplied Grimm with a wicked grin.

  Lily turned to face him. “Tavin! You said he was delirious!”

  “No question about it. I don’t know how he managed it. Maybe it was just instinct. Maybe a tiny part of his brain caught a glimpse and acted all on its own. Whatever, he sprang upright, a short sword in his hand. Where he got it, only the moons know. The bindings on him, which had looked so tight, must have been loose on purpose.”

  “It would appear not all of the Dragondain have forgotten,” said Falin.

  Darce blew an air of disgust through her lips. “Dragondain! It’s a disgrace to our mothers and fathers to call them that!”

  “His bonds didn’t get loose by themselves, Darce! You can’t argue that!”

  “Oh, can’t I!” screamed Darce, quickening her step toward Falin, who had leaped to his feet.

  Lily stepped between them and threw her arms wide. “Enough!” she yelled.

  At first, it looked like Darce was going to bowl Lily over, but at the last second she reined herself in, as though responding to a barked command. Suddenly, Lily wondered just what Dubb might have said to her. Had he given Darce the same speech he’d made the morning after Tavin had paralyzed her? The speech he made just before leaving with Marred and Andros to search for Tavin? “. . . Defend her at the expense of every life—” Had Dubb told his own daughter that? What about the other sons and daughters of the Dragondain?