The two kept protesting. Valien ignored them. He looked past them to Lana. She still sat at the table silently, clutching her mug of broth but not drinking. She met his gaze.
"Valien, why?" Rune demanded.
But it was Lana who answered.
"Because I saw a hundred thousand bloodthirsty beasts," the lady of the canyon answered. "Because I saw the cruelest army that's flown since the great wars. We've mustered fighters here, yes. We have three thousand resistors. We have three thousand townsfolk who've taken arms. We have three thousand of my own men, warriors of the canyon." She shook her head and blew out her breath. "We are outnumbered. We are outnumbered more than ten to one. We expected one brigade to fly against us, maybe two. Not this." She lowered her head. "Not this."
Rune spun toward her, glaring, and pounded the table.
"One man fighting for his home is worth ten dragons!" he said. "One resistor fighting for justice is worth ten more." He drew his sword. "I bear Amerath, the Amber Sword of Aeternum. This sword stands for light, for truth, for courage. How can I bear it and run from battle?"
Valien looked at the boy, and sadness welled up inside him.
He is like me, he thought. Rune is like me when I was his age. Brass. More brave than wise. So often, youth speak of justice and righteousness as if they alone can win wars.
Rune had grown in the past year; Valien had seen it. The boy had come to him green, frightened, and soft. He stood in armor now. His face was gaunt, his grip strong. Ash and stubble covered his cheeks. He was a warrior now, yet he was not wise. Not yet. Not here.
"We've been running and hiding for almost twenty years," Valien said. "We are the Resistance. We are those who strike from shadow. We are those who leap and kill in darkness. We are the demon always in the corner of the legionary's eye. This is how we've always fought."
Rune snarled at him across the tabletop. "Yet now we're here. We've chosen to take this city. We've chosen to raise our banner in the sunlight. We've chosen to defend this place. I say we stay and defend it! Yes, we expected ten thousand to fly against us. A hundred thousand? Let them come. More for us to kill."
Valien roared, a sound that echoed, hoarse and torn, in the hall.
"You crave killing, boy?" He pounded the table so hard it cracked. "Have I taught you nothing? Are you but a mindless, bloodthirsty beast? You speak of death. You speak of blood. You have seen these horrors. Would you be ready to kill your friend, the girl who saved Shari, if she meets in you battle?" When Rune paled, Valien snorted. "I thought not. You speak folly."
"I speak," Rune said, eyes burning, "like you taught me."
Valien howled again. He tossed a chair aside; it smashed against a wall.
"I taught you none of this!"
Rune stood, chest heaving and eyes still blazing. He walked around the cracked table. He clutched Valien's arm and stared at him, teeth bared.
"You taught me justice, Valien," he said. "You taught me to stand tall and fight. Before I met you, I hid in shadows, a brewer, afraid." His voice shook. "You gave me courage. Do not let that courage abandon you." He swept his arm around the hall. "Look at the sea outside the arrowslits. Look at the forest. Look at the city and its people who stand tall, ready to fight, ready to die. This is my city. This is Lynport. I will not abandon it. Not if every last legionary flies against us."
Valien's eyes narrowed. "Not even if you die? Not even if we all die?"
Kaelyn had watched the exchange silently, hands on the hilts of her sword and dagger. Finally she spoke.
"We can still win this," she said. "We will do as we planned. Nothing changes. We will fight house to house, tunnel to tunnel, alley to alley. The town is stocked with gunpowder; every door, every window, every alleyway is rigged to slay them. We have maps. We can scurry, hide, and fire arrows while they burn." She nodded and gripped his arm, her eyes large and eager. "We can win, Valien."
And if I lose you? he thought, gazing upon her, and his chest tightened. If I lose you like I lost her?
She looked up at him. Large, hazel eyes. Her eyes.
What would you have me do, Marilion? Valien thought, fists tight at his sides, and his eyes burned. Would you want me to run, or would you stay here and fight?
He turned aside. He looked out the hall's southern arrowslit. A mile away, the breakwater thrust into the sea, and the lighthouse rose. The waves crashed against it, a heartbeat, an eternal whisper of the day he'd met her.
You stood barefoot in a homespun dress, and you wore seashells around your neck. And he killed you. He thrust a sword into you, and I couldn't save you. I had to save him, Marilion. I had to. I had to save the boy.
He spun back to the hall. He stared at Rune. His wife was dead, but that babe was still here. He stood before Valien now as a man, clad in armor, Aeternum's sword in his hand, ready to fight—ready to do what Valien had saved him to do.
I saved him for Requiem, Marilion, he thought. I saved him for this day, so we can save our kingdom. Your death will not have been in vain.
"For Requiem," Rune whispered.
For Marilion, Valien thought.
He marched across the hall, his throat still aching. He turned toward the northern arrowslit. He pointed at the walls that guarded the forest.
"Rune, take your men and guard the northern walls. When the enemy arrives, fire all our guns into their ranks. Slay as many as you can before rushing into our tunnels."
Rune pounded the table. "Yes."
Valien turned toward Kaelyn and fixed her with a hard stare. "Kaelyn, when they fly across the city—and they will fly past the walls, even with all our cannons—you will lead our men through the tunnels. You know them best. You will emerge from every window, hole, roof, and gutter to slay them with arrows, then retreat into shadow."
She nodded, teeth bared, and drew her sword. "Yes!"
Finally Valien turned to Lady Lana.
He paused.
Iciness filled him, and he approached her slowly. She was still seated, and he knelt before her and took her hand.
"Lana, you know your task."
She nodded, face pale, and said nothing.
Valien squeezed her hand. "Lead them to safety, Lana. Tens of thousands live in this city, but they are not warriors. They are mothers, children, and elders. You must defend them. You must lead them out now—at once. Take them into your canyon. Hide them in your father's halls." He rose back to his feet. "This city will be a bloodbath."
Lana stood up too. She gave him a silent stare, then pulled him into a crushing embrace. She was a slender woman, but she gripped him with the might of a burly blacksmith.
"Be strong, warrior of Requiem," she whispered into his ear, then—surprising him—kissed his cheek. "Remember always, Lord Valien Eleison, knight of the realm—you are the light of stars."
With that she spun around. Gripping her saber, she marched toward the fortress doors, stepped outside, and shifted into a dragon. She glided across the city, roaring her call.
"People of Lynport—the time has come! We evacuate! All those who are not fighters—shift and fly. Follow me to safety!"
Valien turned from the doors, clanked up the stairs of Acta's tower, and emerged onto the battlements. He stood and watched the city. Rune and Kaelyn came to stand beside him, the wind whipping their hair.
"People of Lynport!" Lana cried, flying over the roofs. "We evacuate!"
Valien gripped a merlon, struggling to calm the tremble in his fingers. Thousands of people were emerging from their homes below. They shifted into dragons like they had drilled a dozen times; Valien himself had drilled them. They took flight.
Myriads rose into the air, a tapestry of scales of every color, shimmering and streaming across the city. Wings beat. Smoke rose in plumes.
They wobbled as they flew. Before Lynport's liberation only two moons ago, the Regime had outlawed shifting into dragons. Many elders had not flown in eighteen years. Many youngsters had never shifted at all until winning their freedom
that autumn. Others had broken the laws of Cadigus, shifting at night over the sea, but most still flew as hesitantly as baby birds.
"Fly, people of Lynport!" Lana cried. "Fly with the magic of Requiem."
They flew northwest.
They flew toward the canyon, to safety underground.
Below them, the warriors—resistors, men of the canyon, and those townsfolk brave enough to raise a weapon—manned the walls.
"It is here," Valien whispered. "The great battle of our uprising. The Battle for Lynport."
He looked north. In the distance, leagues away, a shadow fell.
TILLA
They swarmed over the wilderness.
They covered the sky, a hundred thousand strong. They flew in perfect formation—ten chevrons, one after the other, ten brigades howling for blood. The beat of wings scattered the clouds and bent the forests below. Eyes blazed and scales clattered in a storm. Fire rose between fangs, shining against spiked armor. The sky burned.
War, Tilla thought, flapping her wings and staring forward with grim intent. Blood. The great battle to end the Resistance.
And it would be fought at her home.
She peered ahead, trying to see Cadport. She thought she glimpsed the sea, a narrow thread of blue ahead. The city was but a speck.
He's waiting there. Tilla let flames crackle in her mouth. Rune. The man I loved. The man who turned against me. The man I must capture and convert to glory… with words or with pain.
"You will fight well tonight, lanse," said Shari. "You will make me proud."
The blue dragon flew beside her, leading the foremost chevron of dragons. She was clad in glory. Her black armor shone with golden dragon motifs and spirals. Blades topped her helm. Her breastplate, large as a boat, shone with rubies.
"I will fight for you, Commander," Tilla answered, flying to her right, her head only several feet farther back. "We will crush them. And we will catch him."
Please, Rune, she thought as she flew. Do not force us to hurt you. Because we will. We will.
She looked behind her. Her phalanx, the Sea Cannons, flew there; they would lead the charge. The hundred dragons were snarling, smoke streaming from between their fangs. Tilla had been training them for two moons now, and she trusted each dragon; they were the finest warriors she knew. Behind them rolled the rest of the army. It spread into the horizon, a sea of scale, claw, and tooth.
"Does the emperor not fly with us, Commander?" Tilla asked her princess. "Nor the Axehand Order?"
Shari turned her head and stared at her, eyes shrewd, and flames sparked between her teeth.
"Emperor Frey has his own battles to fight," she said. "Do not question his wisdom. I will lead the battle today, and you will fight at my side."
Tilla nodded. She stared ahead again, squinting. The speck grew to a dot.
Cadport. Home.
As the forest rustled below, Tilla imagined the sound of waves. As dragonfire rose, she felt the warmth of the Old Wheel's hearth. As she flew to battle, she remembered flying with Rune over the sea in darkness, a dance of starlight.
Home. Her old shop. Her father. Scraggles leaping onto her. A young ropemaker with calloused, thin fingers. Weaving, dreaming, hiding.
It was her home, it was her youth, it was her family and the man she loved.
The Resistance took all that from me, Tilla thought, and flames swirled in her belly. I will save my home. And I will save you, Rune.
She roared a battle cry and blew fire. Behind her, a hundred thousand dragons answered her call. The might of the Legions stormed south.
KAELYN
They stood on the walls, silent.
They stared into the north.
Nine thousand men and women—resistors, warriors of the canyon, and townsfolk armed with axes and sickles. Nine thousand. Still. Watching. Awaiting the night.
The sun dipped into the west, spreading red tendrils across the sky. Clouds thickened overhead. It would be a night of no stars. A night of dragonfire.
"Whatever happens, I fly by your side," Kaelyn whispered to Valien; he stood to her right upon the wall. "Always, Valien. Always."
She reached out and held his hand, a great paw, calloused and warm and enveloping.
"Stay with me, Rune," she whispered and turned to look at him; he stood at her left. "We will roar our fire together. We will defeat them."
She grabbed his hand too and squeezed it. He stared into the northern darkness. He nodded.
"I will fly with you."
Kaelyn took a deep breath, raised her head, and stared into the shadows. She held their hands—the two men in her life, the two men she thought she'd always be torn between.
Valien—the man who'd saved her from her father, who protected her, who fought for her through blood and rain and fire. Valien—the gruff, weathered knight whose soul was torn, whose soul she had vowed to mend. She looked at him—tall, burly in his armor, his hair wild and grizzled. And she loved him. She loved him more than she'd ever loved another. Once she had thought him like a father to her, but now… now she loved him not as a daughter, but as a woman.
She looked to her left. Rune. The boy she had saved. The boy she had watched grow into a warrior. He was two decades younger than Valien, and less pain filled his eyes, and far more rage and fire. Scruff covered his cheeks now, and his body had grown hard with training. He stood clad in leather and wool, his sword upon his back. Once Kaelyn had thought him a foolish boy, then a figurehead, then a king of legend. But now, looking upon him, she did not see those things. She saw a friend. She saw a soul she loved. She saw the young man she had kissed that night, the man in whose arms she had slept.
And I love you too, Rune, she thought, looking at him. I love you as much as I love anyone. I will fight with you to victory or death.
She placed her hand upon a cannon and watched the northern forest. A red glow rose from the horizon like a dawn of fire. She couldn't see the Legions yet—standing upon the walls, close to the surface of the earth, the horizon only lay a dozen miles away. But she knew that glow. That was dragonfire. They flew beyond the horizon and they would soon emerge like a cruel sun.
They will be here within the hour, Kaelyn thought and sucked in her breath.
Shouts and roars rose from the east.
Alarm bells clanged.
Kaelyn's heart burst into a gallop.
The alarm. We're under attack! But how?
She shifted into a dragon. She soared and filled her maw with fire. At her sides, Valien and Rune rose as dragons too, snarling and leaking fire.
When Kaelyn looked east, she saw them there, and the breath left her lungs.
A league away from Lynport, a thousand dragons were flying along the beach, roaring and blowing fire.
"The vanguard," Kaelyn whispered, her belly twisting.
She understood at once. Of course. These thousand dragons, brazen legionaries, had traveled the forest as humans, hidden under the canopy, and only now emerged.
"Resistance, shift!" Kaelyn shouted, beat her wings, and rose higher. "Follow!"
She growled, narrowed her eyes, and shot eastward across the houses. The enemy hadn't reached the city yet, but they were moving fast along the shore. They flew only a moment away.
Damn my father, Kaelyn thought as she flew. He knew we'd see his army from a distance. He knew we'd be watching the north. And his elite warriors sneaked up from the eastern trees.
She roared and shot forward, wreathed in flame, ready for battle. She streamed over the last few houses, her fellow dragons at her sides, and dived along the shore. The horde approached.
Kaelyn was about to blow fire… when she gasped.
This is wrong.
The thousand dragons did not fly in formation, but in a confused mass. Only a handful wore armor, and even that steel was muddy and dented. They bore no red spirals.
These are not legionaries, Kaelyn realized and gasped.
The dragon at their lead, a young red beast, blaste
d fire and shouted out.
"Hello, sister!"
Kaelyn spat her flames onto the shore below.
"Stars damn it!" she said, turned her head around, and shouted at her warriors, hundreds of dragons who flew behind her. "Hold your dragonfire! Do not attack." She sighed. "It's my idiot of a brother."
The thousand dragons ahead halted and hovered in midair, wings whipping the sand and water below. Leresy gave her a crooked, toothy grin.
"You've got to be an idiot to fight here today," the red dragon said. "Burn me, Kae, did you know that about a million legionaries are flying your way?"
"I had an idea," she grumbled, hovering before him, her wings blasting him with air. "So… these are the famous Leresy's Lechers. I've heard of your new band of outlaws." She sniffed and wrinkled her snout. "By the stars, you lot stink."
Leresy sniffed beneath his wing and winced. "Aye, we're a salty bunch. What is the old saying? True men stink of oil, soil, and other toil. Villains smell of roses."
"What are you doing here?" Kaelyn demanded. Valien, Rune, and her other dragons hovered behind her, hissing at the beasts ahead.
Her brother twisted his scaly brow into an expression of surprise. "What do you think? I'm here to join the fun. I'm not letting you kill Father without me. I intend to roast his scaly arse myself. And looking at you lot, you could use some help."
At her side, Rune blasted flame. "I say we kill them here on the beach. Slay two villains in one day."
Leresy looked at the young black dragon. "Well well, and this must be the pup who styles himself the heir of Aeternum. Quite a temper you've got, boy. But can you back it up with fire? Fly to me; let's see."
Rune growled and made to charge, but Kaelyn darted forward, slamming him back.
"Enough!" she howled. "Leresy, we don't have an hour before Father arrives. With me—to the walls. We'll talk there. Now!" She spun toward Rune and the others. "Let him through. He won't cause trouble. If he does, I'll kill him myself."
They flew back to town.
A Birthright of Blood (The Dragon War, Book 2) Page 16
