A Birthright of Blood (The Dragon War, Book 2)

by Daniel Arenson

  Lana screamed.

  "Never again!" she cried. "Never again, Frey Cadigus! The Resistance will not fall."

  She leaped from fire, shifted into a dragon, and flew toward him across the hall.

  Crossbows thrummed. Bolts slammed into her. Before her, Frey—a golden dragon twice her size—laughed and blasted her with flame.

  She fell. Her head tilted back. She stared upon carnage: people burning, people falling to the blade, people screaming as they died.

  For the first time in almost twenty years, both her eyes saw the same world.

  FREY

  He flew back into Cadport with five hundred vermin in his claws.

  His wrath spread behind him. His thousands of claws tightened, crushing the traitors. Their blood fell like drool. He laughed and blew fire from a forest of maws and lit the heavens that he ruled. He spread across the land, a beast with two hundred thousand wings, a hive of scale and steel and everywhere the red spiral that snaked through his mind.

  "We have your pets, Relesar!" he shrieked from his golden head, letting the cry roll across the city of ruin and death.

  Behind him, his lesser heads howled with laughter, this sea of might, this writhing cloud that cloaked the city, and Frey laughed and blasted flame and his claws dug into flesh.

  It burned inside him, twisting, always aflame, always bleeding.

  Hail the red spiral!

  It coiled around his spines, pulsing with his blood, a parasite sucking on his marrow and organs and essence.

  Hail the worm!

  "Relesar!" his jaws cried. "Relesar, emerge from your hiding, or they will die."

  He cackled, staring at the fortress that rose upon the hill. The boy still hid there, cowering. The fallen knight still lurked there, broken and trembling. His daughter still huddled behind those bricks, spreading her legs for the men he would kill.

  "Relesar!" he howled.

  Behind him, the many heads of the beast roared flame and chanted his cry.

  "Relesar! Relesar!"

  "Purification!" the golden head cried.

  "Purification!" the minions answered.

  Frey howled, spraying drool and flame. "Hail the red spiral!"

  His heads answered the cry, and Frey cackled. He remembered a day long ago when he was just one body. He remembered a thin, pale youth, the son of a logger. He remembered walking through the forests at night, desperate for firewood, desperate to appease the father who'd beat him.

  The boy hated the darkness. He boy hated the woods and the shadows that lurked there. Things crawled in the dark, insects and rodents and worms that broke under his bare feet. How they stained his feet! How the crushed, coiled things bled upon his soles, red spirals that stained him, that he could never wash off, that tainted him anew every night.

  The curse of the woods. The worms left it on him. A curse he could never shake, that invaded through his feet into his bones, into his heart, into his skull, that wrapped around his spine and drove him to greatness.

  It made him strong.

  "Hail the red spiral!" he cried.

  Now he was many. Now he was Legions. Now he no longer feared monsters, for he himself was a beast, a hive of flame and steel and worship and purity.

  He flew down above the roofs of the seaside city. The ragged men all hid in their tunnels, fearing his might. The cannons had fallen silent. The boy still had not emerged.

  "I will slay one of your precious vermin every minute until you face me!" Frey shouted and laughed. "I snatched them from your canyon, boy. I killed most but not all. I will kill the rest here until you emerge."

  In his lead claws, the claws of the emperor, he held two of the townsfolk, a brother and sister. He clutched them so tightly they could not shift into dragons, only writhe as frail humans. He flew with them near the tower upon the hill. They no longer shot arrows. They no longer fired guns.

  Frey grinned.

  "You fear to slay the people I hold!" he shouted. "You fools. You should slay me on sight. Now they shall die!"

  Frey tossed the brother and sister from his claws. They tumbled through the sky, bleeding and nearly dead. Before they could shift into dragons, Frey blasted them with flames.

  They screamed.

  They died.

  They fell and crashed, burning, onto the roofs below.

  Now howls rose from the tower. Now arrows whistled and cannons blasted. Frey laughed and flew backward, dodging the fire.

  "Emerge and fight me, Relesar!" he shrieked. "Emerge or I will kill two more. Face me in battle, coward, or they all shall die!"

  The beast laughed with a hundred thousand jaws, and its wings and scales spread into the distance. The city below lay in shadow and desolation.

  Frey smiled.

  "It is pure."

  TILLA

  He was killing them.

  Oh stars, he was killing them.

  Tilla wanted to howl. She wanted to weep. She wanted to blow fire against the emperor. She wanted to fly between cannonballs and arrows, to capture Rune or die upon the roofs of their city.

  He was killing them. Oh stars, he was killing them all.

  Flying a hundred yards away from the emperor, Tilla stared, barely able to breathe, not even able to cry. Among the five hundred prisoners, she saw her own father. The old ropemaker was bleeding, his face pale, struggling in the grip of a drooling dragon.

  He will kill him. Tilla panted. My emperor will kill my father.

  "Relesar!" the emperor cried, laughing in the sky. His great wings beat. Flame wreathed him. He grabbed two more townsfolk from the claws of his minions, gripped the bodies so tight their ribs snapped, and raised them.

  "Relesar!" Frey called. "I will slay two more. Emerge and fight me, or all will die."

  Tilla knew those two in Frey's claws, an old man and a woman. She had grown up with them. She had bought pottery from their shop. They had looked after her when she'd been a girl, she remembered. They had always been so kind. She could not let them die.

  She whipped her head around and stared at Castellum Acta. The fort rose upon the hill. Cannons lined its battlements and windows. Archers stood firing from its arrowslits. Behind iron, steel, and stone, Rune hid.

  And they were dying.

  Tilla knew the price of disobedience. Soldiers were to fly in silence, to laugh only when the emperor laughed, to cheer only when he cheered. They were nothing but reflections of his glory. Yet today Tilla had to risk her life. She had to save what she still could of Cadport, her home which lay in ruins below.

  "Rune!" she called out. "Rune, please! Come out to us. He will kill them!"

  More arrows flew from the fort. More cannons fired, tearing into imperial dragons who flew too close.

  Yet he did not emerge.

  "Hear them scream, Relesar!" Frey cried, laughed, and tightened his claws.

  The two potters tore apart.

  They fell to the city below, lacerated, and crashed into the rooftops.

  "No…" Tilla whispered, and tears budded in her eyes.

  I can't do this, she thought and panted. I can't fly here anymore. I can't take part in this massacre. I can't let my father die.

  She looked at Frey; he was grabbing two more prisoners in his claws. She looked down at her hometown which lay in ruin, bodies and blood and debris everywhere.

  "How can I fight for this?" she whispered, her voice too soft in the battle for any to hear. "How can I serve this Regime that crushes my home?"

  Tilla raged.

  She raged against the Regime.

  She raged against the emperor.

  She wanted to fly at Frey, to burn him, to slay the beast and tear out his heart.

  I served you, Frey, she thought, and fire crackled in her maw. I served the glory of the red spiral, and now you crush my home. Now you kill all those I've ever known.

  She looked at the fortress where the last resistors hid, bloodied and dying. She looked down at the city where thousands lay rotting.


  She lowered her head.

  There was no fighting the Cadigus family, she knew. Even with thousands of warriors, the Resistance only crashed against the might of the Legions and died. And the city died. And all its refugees died.

  "You cannot fight him, Rune," Tilla whispered. "He is too great. You can only serve the red spiral. To fight him brings death to us all." She raised her voice to a howl. "Rune, please! Emerge! I will protect you, I promise."

  Yet still he hid, and Tilla roared, wept, and raged.

  Why would he not come to her?

  Did he not care that Frey was butchering his people?

  Tilla trembled, her wings roiling smoke and fire around her.

  I serve Requiem, she thought. I serve life. I serve my city.

  "And you're letting it fall, Rune. Your rebellion killed them all." Again she cried out. "Rune!"

  The Legions howled and jeered around her. The emperor cackled and grabbed two more prisoners, mere children.

  "Relesar, two more!" the emperor cried.

  Two more bodies fell.

  Two more lights went dim.

  Tilla wept and roared her fire and called his name, but he would not come.

  RUNE

  "Let me go," he said, eyes burning, and tried to wrench himself free. His throat tightened. His legs shook. He twisted and tugged, but Valien would not release him.

  "You cannot," said the older man. His teeth were bared. His eyes blazed. He clutched Rune's arms, holding him back. "Rune! Do not give him what he wants."

  Yet Rune kept struggling. He kept staring through the hall's arrowslits. The scaly mass covered the sky outside. Frey Cadigus cackled, claws still stained with blood and bits of flesh. Behind the emperor, his dragons held hundreds of other townsfolk.

  "They're going to die, Valien!" Rune called, struggling madly. He wanted to break free, to rush up the tower, to leap from the battlements and shift into a dragon, to fly at Frey and slay the man with all his fire and rage.

  "If you fly out there, you will die," Valien said, refusing to release Rune; the man's grip was iron. "Rune. Look at me. Listen to me."

  Rune spun away from the arrowslit. His eyes were damp and burning, but he stared at Valien. The leader of the Resistance stared back, eyes hard as his grasping fingers. Behind him, the other resistors stood gazing at Rune too. Their eyes were haunted. Their faces were somber. Even Kaelyn stared silently, her eyes large and cold like frozen dreams of winter.

  "They will all die," Rune whispered.

  Valien would not release him. "Rune, if you fly out, he will kill you." Valien ground his teeth. "But not at once, Rune. He will take you alive to the capital. He will torture you. He will display your mangled body to the masses and have you wail for their amusement. Years down the line, when your mind is broken like your body, then, Rune… then he will finally give you the mercy of death. If you fly out to meet Frey now, that is your fate."

  Rune swallowed and trembled. Sweat drenched him. He panted, barely able to suck breath down his throat.

  "I cannot simply let them die," he whispered. "Valien… stars. He has hundreds out there. Did he already kill the others?"

  He did not want to weep. Yet his voice cracked, and a lump filled his throat, and he could barely see through his burning eyes.

  Tilla, he thought. Stars, do you fly there too? How can you serve him? Tilla, what do we do?

  Valien's eyes softened just the slightest. His grip loosened by just a thread.

  "I don't know," he said, his voice raspier than ever. "He might have killed them all, yes. If he met the people of Lynport on their way to the canyon, he might have slain all those he didn't bring here to torture. Rune—do not let their deaths be in vain."

  Rune peered back outside. Frey grabbed two more prisoners in his claws. He rose higher, disappearing from the arrowslit's range of view, but his voice still rolled across the city.

  "I have two more, Relesar!" the emperor shrieked, his voice demonic, the sound of storm and lightning. "Emerge to fight me, or they too will perish."

  Rune looked back at Valien and the others.

  "I can't let them die," he whispered. He turned to face Kaelyn; she stared back with haunted eyes. "Kaelyn, tell him. Tell him we can't let them die."

  She stepped closer, her lips trembled, and she touched Rune's arm. A tear streamed down her cheek.

  "They must die," she whispered.

  Behind Rune, two screams pierced the sky.

  Kaelyn lowered her head and her tears fell. Rune started, gasped, and tried to turn around, but Valien still held his arms, refusing to release him.

  "Come, Rune," the man said. "Into the tunnel. You do not need to hear this. It's time to leave."

  Outside the tower, the emperor's voice roared across the sky.

  "Two more dead, Relesar! Hundreds more remain. Emerge from your hole, coward!"

  Rune shook. He let Valien guide him away from the arrowslit. They walked toward the narrow staircase that plunged into the hill. The stairs led to a tunnel, Rune knew. The tunnel led to the sea.

  "Rune," Kaelyn said softly, holding his arm, "you must do this for their memory. The people of Lynport will die. But if you are captured, all hope is lost. Millions across Requiem will suffer." Her tears fell. "For those millions, you must live."

  Rune let them walk him across the hall.

  So here is how it ends, he thought, eyes stinging. Lynport is fallen; all we tried to save here will die. And we will flee. And we will fight on. To dream of another battle, I must let all my memories, all my soul, all my past perish.

  Yet how could he fight again with such pain inside him?

  Rune looked up at Valien, looked at this broken man with hard eyes, with old pain, with creases of endless nightmares across his face.

  This is what I would become, Rune realized. A broken man. He would grow old in hiding. He would grow old in pain, the past always clutching, always pulling him deeper into darkness.

  No. He could not do this.

  Valien held his arm, guiding him forward, and for the first time since Rune had met him—for the first time in a year of blood, fire, and death—Valien's eyes dampened, and his voice tore with pain.

  "We will not forget them, Rune," he said. "We will enter this tunnel. We will crawl through darkness to the sea. We will swim. We will flee this battle." His voice shook and his jaw twisted. "We will fight another day."

  They walked toward the tunnel.

  Valien looked around the hall at the resistors who gathered, several hundred in all.

  "We've been fighting for seven nights and seven days," he said, looking at his men. "We've killed thousands of the enemy. We've shown that we could bleed them." He raised his hand, two fingers pressed together. "The Resistance will live on! Relesar Aeternum will reign. Today we flee into the sea. Today we lose a battle. Tomorrow we will rally, and we will grow in strength, and we will give the Regime no rest. Into the sea! Into darkness and water. Requiem! May our wings forever find your sky."

  The men returned the salute. They chanted the prayer together. They began to enter the darkness.

  Into the sea, Rune thought, watching them leave. Into hiding. Into war and pain and endless memory.

  More men stepped down the staircase, one by one, their eyes hard and their faces ashy, warriors of Requiem. Rune watched them leave.

  Valien released his grip on Rune and placed a hand on his shoulder.

  "It's time," the gruff man said.

  Kaelyn held his hand. "We will still fight together, Rune," she whispered. "I promise you. Always. I will always fly by your side."

  Rune stared at the men stepping into the darkness. He could imagine them crawling underground, emerging into the sea, swimming through darkness, leaving this ruin behind, and rallying in some distant land for another battle in another town.

  "They will fight on," Rune whispered. "And they will still have courage in their hearts." He looked at Valien and Kaelyn, his guiding stars, two people he had followed th
rough fire and blood, two people he loved. "But my heart will not mend after this day. My heart is forever in Lynport. This is my home, and here I must fall." His voice tore and his eyes swam. "Goodbye."

  He broke free.

  Before they could grab him again, Rune ran.

  "Rune!" Kaelyn shouted behind him, voice torn.

  He did not turn back. He raced across the hall. He leaped onto the tower staircase.

  "Rune, do not do this!" Valien roared behind. "Rune, listen to me!"

  But he would not listen.

  I can't, he thought, eyes burning. I can't let them die. If torture and death await me, so be it. I cannot let the last of my townsfolk perish here.

  He ran up the tower stairs.

  "Rune!" Kaelyn cried; he heard her running upstairs a few steps behind. "Rune, please!"

  "Go to the sea, Kaelyn!" he said. "Go with Valien. Fight on. Fight for my memory. Go!"

  He ran.

  He reached the tower top.

  He raced between guards, crashed through a trapdoor, and emerged onto the battlements. He shifted into a dragon.

  The sky writhed, a canopy of scales and flames and claws. The Legions stormed above him in a whirlpool, wings roiling smoke and fire and drool. Rune soared toward them, a single black dragon entering the storm. The emperor himself cackled above, the epicenter of terror, a shard of gold like a cruel sun, death and blood in his claws.

  "I fly to you, Frey!" Rune cried. "I fly to you. Release them. Let them live."

  Below him upon the tower, Kaelyn's voice rose, torn and pleading.

  "Rune!"

  He looked back at her. Kaelyn stood upon the tower, still in human form, reaching up to him, pleading, tears on her cheeks. The wind from countless wings billowed her hair. Tears filled her eyes. Ash and soot coated her cheeks.

  "Rune," she said, lips trembling. "Please. I love you. Please."

  The Legions cackled and roared above. Claws reached down to lash Rune. Pain drove through him. The swarm engulfed him.

  "Goodbye, Kaelyn," he whispered as the beasts tightened around him, a great serpent of the skies, hiding all from view.