Dragon Flight: Sisera's Gift 3 (Dragonblood Sagas Book 5)

by Robyn Wideman

  Gars led the two brothers through the dockyard and as they walked Tarak noticed that each group of workers had a foreman who stood over them as they labored. He didn’t think too much of it until one of the workers dropped a crate that was obviously too heavy for one man to carry alone. The wooden crate smashed on the ground, spilling its contents over the ground. Whatever the crate contained was glass but Tarak could not discern what the original objects were from the small chunks. The foreman unhooked a whip from his belt and proceeded to savagely beat the worker. Tarak found it odd none of the other workers even looked up, let alone helped the man.

  “They are slaves.” It was first thing that came to Tarak’s mind and he just let the thought fall out of his mouth.

  “Naturally,” Gars said. “It’s more cost efficient.”

  Tarak nodded his head. He agreed with the economic advantages of using human slave labor but he still found the practice to be deplorable though he was careful to keep his opinions to himself.

  Gars led the two brothers up a twisting road connecting the harbor to the massive fortress. From the gate of the harbor to the gate of the fortress the entire road was lined on both sides with human skulls. Before they could ask, Gars offered an explanation. “They are the heads of all those who opposed Lord Zellox on his rise to the throne in Korazon. Before him, the island had been splintered into warring clans. With the help of his Darcarion pets, General Zellox usurped the throne from his own king and went on to defeat all the other clans. He united the island under one ruler and ushered in an age of peace and prosperity for the common people. Most of those that live under his rule do not agree with most of his practices but the common sentiment is ‘out of sight, out of mind.’ Zellox only uses foreign slaves and keeps them contained to his fortress, though he has lent their use to the people in their times of need.”

  The last part of Gars’ explanation was surprising to Tarak. “For what purpose would he need to lend slaves to common people?” he asked.

  “Well, all able-bodied men are required to join the military for a service of at least two years but many stay on much longer because the pay is very good. Harvest can be a challenging task for women, children, and the elderly so Zellox lends his slaves to the effort. Of course, they also come in useful in a variety of situations but especially where there is a significant risk of death.”

  “Your Lord Zellox sound like an interesting individual, indeed,” Tarak said. “I very much look forward to meeting him.”

  The massive black fortress stood on a cliff side which provided an easily defensible position as well as a fantastic ocean view. Tarak enquired if Gars knew what kind of stone was used to construct the fifty-foot-high walls and the soaring towers.

  “I’m not sure anybody knows,” Gars said. “This fortress was old already in ancient times. The story parents tell their children at bedtime is that it was built by giants but in truth all records have been lost to time.”

  “It is definitely impressive,” Santaal said as he craned his neck back to try to see the top of the wall.

  The three men entered the fortress through a gate that was obviously installed in the wall years after it was built. What they found surprised everyone, including Gars. The sprawling courtyard was filled with makeshift blacksmith stations with hundreds of slaves laboring at them.

  “Now, this is impressive,” Tarak said.

  Gars let out a low whistle. “It sure didn’t look like this the last time I was here,” he said. “Main tower at the far end. Try to stay close so you don’t get lost.”

  Tarak and Santaal followed quickly behind the wiry man as he picked his way through the chaos of the courtyard. The further they went, they found that smiths were not the only group producing in the castle. Every alleyway, passageway, and hallway with room to spare held workers making a wide variety of items. Tarak noted that everything being made was something useful in a war effort and said as much.

  “Aye. Lord Zellox has recently returned from a campaign in the south where his armies successfully captured the country of Balta. A great victory for our lord who is working to expand his empire to include all of Solotine, north and south.”

  “Ambitious,” Tarak said approvingly.

  The three men made their way into the main tower to find it no different than everywhere else in the fortress. The receiving hall of the tower was as impressive in size as the rest of the castle. The entire floor has been cleared and filled with looms. Arranged into columns and rows, hundreds of textile machines clicked away under the expert hands of their operators. The sheer number made the noise nearly unbearable. With their hands covering their ears, the men rushed toward a staircase at the end of the hall. Tarak noticed that all the people who were working at the loud machines had balls of cotton stuffed into their ears to protect their hearing.

  Gars led them to the top of the spiraling staircase. They had passed only four floors to reach the top but to the brothers it felt like they had climbed forty floors. Tarak had no trouble but near the halfway point Santaal’s pace began to slow and his breathing began to grow heavy.

  At the top, they stopped for a moment to catch their breath and could still hear the clicking from the looms below, though only faintly. Tarak briefly wondered if the other floors contained some type of production as well. The thought immediately faded from his mind when they entered the hall at the top of the tower.

  The room they had entered took up roughly half the floor and was richly decorated with rock that looked like red glass. Thick sheets of the brittle rock lined every wall and pillar in the room. It was a truly impressive combination of art and engineering.

  “Is that …?”

  “Yes, it is bloodrock. Wait here,” Gars said and disappeared into a door.

  Tarak turned to look at his brother who stood stunned and slack jawed.

  “I think I believe the story about this place being built by giants,” Tarak said. “I can’t think of any other reasonable explanation.”

  “Magic,” Santaal said, still in awe of the glistening red room.

  “Don’t be daft,” Tarak snapped. “Hemorian resists all magic. Small children know that.”

  “I know but I have no other idea. Has to be magic,” Santaal said.

  Tarak walked over to the wall and ran his hand over the mirror like surface. “I have never seen or heard of any piece bigger than a thumbnail.” He spun around excitedly. “Imagine armor or projectiles made with this. It would make an army nearly invincible.”

  “If you can find a way to do that, I would be most grateful.”

  Tarak looked over to see a short man wearing rich-looking robes walking toward them with Gars close behind.

  “For whatever reason, no one can figure out how to break off a chunk,” the man said. “I’ve been trying for years. Santaal and Tarak Kader of the Sacred Blood, welcome to the Giant’s Den.”

  Tarak took the man’s extended hand and shook it but Lord Zellox did not let go. Instead, he pulled Tarak’s arm and drew the bigger man closer to him.

  “Answer me this right now,” Zellox said as he stared Tarak square in the eyes. “If you were to ask me one question about everything you have seen since you’ve arrived on Korazon, what would it be? First thing that comes to mind.”

  Tarak did not hesitate. “Where do all these people go to the bathroom?”

  Zellox didn’t respond immediately. He stared Tarak in the eyes, as if he were trying to see into the man’s soul. Tarak was unnerved by the man’s gaze, a feeling that he was not used to, but at the same time he could see that there was a certain softness in the man’s pale blue eyes.

  “Interesting question,” Zellox said finally, releasing Tarak’s hand. He turned and shook Santaal’s hand but he did not repeat the questioning process.

  From everything he had heard previous to meeting the man himself, the picture Tarak had in his mind regarding the man was very different from reality. The man looked like he would be someone’s friendly old uncle. Perhaps, t
hat was reason the man made Tarak nervous.

  “Do you know how I achieved what I have?” Zellox asked.

  “Probably something like determination,” Tarak said.

  “I suppose that had something to do with it but no.” Zellox began to pace back and forth as he spoke. “The reason is that I’m very good at reading people. Magically good at reading people. It is a hereditary ability. I got it from my father’s side. Very useful.” He paused to let the information sink in before he continued. “I know you are a man of great power. I suspect you are more than merely a member of the Sacred Blood. I suspect you hold a position of influence in the Order. Tell me that I am wrong and show yourself to be a liar.” Lord Zellox gave Tarak a challenging look.

  “I suppose I have nothing to lose,” Tarak said with a nod. “Your assessment is correct.”

  “Of course, it is,” Zellox said. His smile widened to reveal a set of gnarled, yellowing teeth. “I don’t know about the inner working of your organization but I would say your position puts you in command of the Orders mages.”

  “Again, correct. High Priest.”

  “High Priest, no less.” Zellox clapped his hands together. “Well, this is a treat. From the looks of your aura, you have lost your magic.”

  The last comment brought up Tarak’s internal defences. He instantly narrowed his eyes but he managed to hold his tongue. Instead, he nodded slightly in response.

  “Ah, yes, a sensitive subject, no doubt,” Zellox said. “Well, as it turns out, I have a proposal for you.” The shorter man stopped pacing in front of Tarak. He caught the High Priest’s gaze and held it. “I will help you gain back your magic and capture these women you are after.”

  Tarak’s chest swelled at the prospect of regaining his magical abilities but the cost was undoubtedly high. “And in return?” he asked.

  “I want you to give me control of the Sacred Blood.”

  33

  When the first dragon awoke, Isabella was not prepared for the shock. They had been on the mountain plateau for several weeks with no change in the condition of the five remaining carrier dragons. Isabella was helping Adina pour water into the mouths of the dragons when Brayeth, a green-blue, began to shift on his sandy bed.

  “Adina,” Isabella yelled as she leaped backward in surprise.

  The green-blue regained consciousness a few hours later and managed to move his head around but the effort was too much and he soon fell asleep again.

  “It’s a good sign, though,” Adina said with a nod.

  Sisera was the most excited of them all. “Maybe we will get to leave this place soon,” she said hopefully. The gold-purple had grown very weary of their assigned task.

  Apophis had come to them on the plateau to assess the situation herself when Brendoth went to report to her as she was greatly concerned with the well-being of her fellow dragons. After first checking on the condition of Caritha, she listened intently as Adina said the methods she was using to treat the other dragons. The alpha approved and said that she would use similar techniques herself. She asked if Adina would continue treatment and the healer agreed. The massive white-gold then asked Sisera and Isabella to join her in for a flight.

  “It is a lot to ask but I was hoping that you could stay with Adina while she cares for the dragons,” the alpha said.

  “I wouldn’t think of leaving her up there alone,” Isabella said, a little taken back that the dragon would even consider that to be an option.

  Apophis laughed. “No, I didn’t think that you would. I just did not want to presume to give you orders,” she said. “Brendoth must return to Cargoa as he has been away much too long and I have no other dragon’s left to help you.”

  “I understand,” Isabella said. “One thing though is Sisera can’t carry the water vats by herself.”

  “Ah, that is a problem,” Apophis said and paused for a moment before she continued, “This is very close to Rythin’s normal route. He passes by every few days so I will have him stop by to check in when he does.”

  Rythin was one of Apophis most trusted messengers. Isabella had met him on her first trip to the dragon’s meeting place on Cargoa. His single green coloring left him with no magical abilities but he made up for that with his great speed.

  “One thing that you must be very wary of is these pirates,” Apophis continued as she motioned to the world below them. Isabella looked down and saw they had flown to the coast.

  While a great number of the pirates that were hunting them went back to where they came from when the dragons turned inland, there was still a number that could see the dragon’s flying in the distant mountains so they dropped anchor and went ashore. The cliffy terrain made it very difficult for these would-be dragon hunters to penetrate the coastline but there was still a great number of them that were trying.

  Isabella could see the men below, shouting and running for their bows, pointing up at the two dragons flying overhead. How easy would it be for her to just drop down right now and take care of all those pathetic hunters? But, why? None of them had any hope of climbing up to the plateau, let alone even making it to the base of the mountain.

  “There must be a big bounty if they are all still here, wasting their time,” Isabella said.

  “Yes, there is,” Apophis said. “The witches have told us that the Sacred Blood offered its weight in gold for a dead dragon. Twice that, if it is alive.”

  Isabella let out a long whistle. “No wonder they are trying so hard,” she said with a disappointed tone. She had hopes that the Brotherhood had dissolved after the loss of their leadership during the battle of Mara but it seems that wasn’t the case. It seems that the Sacred Blood Brotherhood was a much bigger order than she initially realized.

  “It is strange to say but thank goodness for the growing tensions. As you know, there is a civil war brewing on Droll and the majority of fighting age men have been recalled to their units so they don’t have time to go on wild dragon chases.”

  “That is lucky, I guess,” Isabella said with a nod.

  “Regardless, I don’t think you will have too much trouble,” Apophis said. “Follow me.”

  The alpha white-gold banked sharply and led Sisera and Isabella back toward the plateau but flew right by. The alpha climbed until they were looking down at an incredible view of the landscape. Isabella could see where the coastal mountains turned to hilly forests, then into flat farm land. She could see whole kingdoms from that vantage point as well but the thing that immediately stood out was a dragon circling around the distant mountains.

  “Do you see him?” Apophis asked.

  “Yes,” Isabella said. She had a stream of questions but she kept them to herself because she knew that the alpha dragon would explain regardless.

  “That is where you will seek help should an emergency arise,” Apophis said, then she let out a roar that sounded like a clap of thunder. A moment later, in the distance, the flying dragon turned toward them. Apophis let out another tremendous roar and the dragon returned to its original course. “Dragon tongue would be the best to get their attention without having to travel the distance.”

  “Can you make that sound?” Isabella asked the gold-purple.

  “I have never tried,” Sisera said, “but I sure am going to now.”

  Apophis laughed. “I merely used a thunder-roar so it would not scare the humans. They will respond as long as they can hear you so the higher you are the better.”

  Over the next few weeks of their assigned guard duty, Sisera attempted to recreate the thunderous sound but with disappointing results. The project did, however, serve to pass the time for them as a group. Nights around a campfire were spent with Isabella and Adina giving the dragon different suggestions on how to execute the roar. All attempts were failures but it was a good source of entertainment and laughs for them until the day the first dragon woke then the pursuit was quickly forgotten.

  It was another week before Brayeth could stay awake for more than a few moments
. At that time, the other four dragons were as still and unresponsive as before and Caritha showed very little change but she was eating again so that gave Isabella some hope. Isabella remained close by Brayeth from the moment he first awoke. She was concerned for his well-being but what she really needed was an answer to the question of what happened to them so she nursed the dragon in hopes of getting the opportunity. The green-blue would wake often but during that short time, nothing intelligible was said, even in dragon tongue.

  One morning, Isabella was changing the woven trays they had made to catch waste from their patients’ backsides when Brayeth rolled over and looked her directly in the eyes, confusion very evident on his jagged, boney face.

  “What is this?” Brayeth asked, growling, attempting to stand and be intimidating but he was too weak which resulted in him falling to the ground.

  “Careful,” Isabella said, running to his aid, though there was very little she could do to help the beast.

  “Sisera! I need your help,” she mindlinked then called out for Adina, who came running, nearly tripping over the tail of a brown-yellow.

  The green-blue struggled to right himself as Sisera and Adina approached. When he saw the gold-purple he seemed to relax and calm down.

  “What happened?” Brayeth said, groaning as he shook his head trying to regain focus.

  “We were hoping you could tell us,” Isabella said as she held out a crude glass bowl filled with fresh water. She and Sisera made the smaller versions using the same technique taught to them by Brendoth.

  The green-blue sniffed at the bowl suspiciously but his thirst got the better of him and he drank deeply. When the bowl was emptied, he gave the Dragonblood girl a nod of thanks.

  “The last thing I can remember is that we were flying inland to find a spot to land. I was one of the four carrying Caritha and there were two scouting ahead. I did not see any humans but something shot up from the ground and burst in front of Nuze, who was in the lead. It didn’t hit him though and there was no follow up so we continued until we found a wide plateau where we landed,” Brayeth said, and looked around at the encampment. “This place sort of looks like it. How long have we been here?”