by Duncan Lay
‘Good luck,’ she merely told him, while Milly moved on to the next moaning man who needed her help.
‘Your majesty,’ Jaret said warningly.
She swivelled—to see Argurium soar across the field and land gently near the river.
‘Our last chance,’ she said softly.
Gello sent half his Tenoch warriors around to the other gate to make sure that was secure, leaving barely two companies of Tenochs and his own men to hold the main gate. Still, with an extra thousand ordinary Tenochs on the walls he was confident Prent could look after things for a turn or two of the hourglass, especially as Merren had no siege equipment. He used one of the carts to head back to the Temple as swiftly as possible. With an army outside, and the workers unable to go to work, the streets were quiet. The Fearpriests had ordered all to stay inside—and nobody was foolish enough to break that command. Still, Gello felt eyes watching him as he travelled through the city. The quiet also allowed him to hear the shouts and calls from outside the wall. He swore as he listened to the magically amplified voices that told all within earshot that ordinary people were safe, this army was here to free the people from the Fearpriests, that afterwards they could go back to their home cities, could live and worship who they wanted—and need no longer fear their children being sacrificed.
Just when he was sick of hearing that, he heard shouts and screams echo across the city—and looked up, to see a dragon swooping lazily around overhead. From the reaction it was getting, Gello guessed most of the people had never even heard of a dragon before.
‘Can’t this thing go any faster?’ he shouted at the cart driver. The frightened man plied his whip and the cart rattled along towards where the Temple still smoked.
Martil could not take his eyes off the city walls. He and the Rallorans were marching around the city, accompanying Barrett, who was shouting out Merren’s message to the people. The words meant nothing to him—all he could think about was Karia, inside those walls somewhere. What was she thinking? What had happened to her? Since he had broken down in Merren’s arms, the anger and guilt that had possessed him was gone. In its place was a fierce determination to not only rescue her but complete the task the dragons had given him—and win Merren, as well.
As yet he did not know how—but he knew he would do it, or die in the attempt.
Merren flew over the city, hoping to see some weakness. But she could not fail to notice the size of the walls, the huge towers and the gates, which looked just as formidable from the air as they did from the ground and equally impressive on the other side of the city. The size of Tenoch, with its endless streets, markets and houses, was stunning.
The two most obvious features were the river that snaked through it—and the huge pyramid that was the Temple of Zorva. She could not help but circle around it, horrified and fascinated all at once. The work that had gone into building it! It was flat-topped, the roof of it a platform marked with ornate carvings, with a huge burning brazier that smoked lazily, torches—and what she recognised was the sacrificial altar. From up here, the front of the Temple, stained rust brown by the blood of thousands, looked horrifying. She remembered the giant pit of bodies they had discovered and shuddered. She was conscious of not staying here too long—partly because the people were obviously terrified of the dragon but mainly because Argurium had warned her the end was near. Against the need to be back on solid ground was the more pressing need to find some way into the city that did not involve fighting in the streets, not just for Martil’s sake but for every man she commanded and the poor people the Fearpriests would use against them. She turned away from the Temple and flew along the river—and realised there was another way into the city.
The wide Tenoch river ran into the city under an archway, through the middle of the city, bypassing the Temple, then out via another archway in the wall. The river flowed swiftly and the archway was low, the wall almost skimming the top of the water. Argurium took her in for a closer look and she saw stone spikes projecting out from the bottom of the wall into the water itself—the ones by the exit had rubbish caught on them.
‘Where to now?’ Argurium asked.
Merren was about to suggest a quick look across the north of the city, where the river entered, when she felt Argurium jerk a little in the air. The dragon, who had been soaring effortlessly, now began using her wings rapidly and was obviously fighting to stay in the air.
‘Are you all right? What is wrong?’ Merren cried.
But Argurium did not answer.
Gello rocketed into the courtyard behind the Temple while gripping the sides of the cart for dear life.
The guards rushed forwards—but stopped and saluted when they saw who it was.
‘I must see Brother Onzalez immediately,’ he instructed.
He had to admit, the Tenochs were trained well. Men leaped to obey and he was rushed inside and up to a waiting room outside what was obviously the main chamber.
‘The Seven—the Eighteen are sitting now. We must not go in until they are ready,’ a frightened guard told him.
Gello was about to shove the man aside and force his way in when the door swung open.
Ignoring the guard, Gello straightened his back and strode inside.
‘Welcome, King Gello. The Council was just talking about you,’ a deep voice said.
Gello looked around slowly. The sixteen Fearpriests around the huge stone circular table all had their cowls over their heads, so he did not know which one was talking. But he guessed it was not Onzalez. He alone was standing. And he alone was tied to the wall. On the floor was an eagle warrior, who looked familiar to Gello. He thought for a moment then placed the man—he was the one who had brought down the Radiant Child with a slingshot.
‘What is going on?’ Gello demanded.
‘We have been finding out the truth.’ A Fearpriest stood. Gello recognised him after a moment—Brother Horna, the leader of the faction that hated Onzalez. ‘The truth, not the tales that Brother Onzalez told. Not only were we defeated before the city walls but this warrior explained our army is not still fighting in Norstalos but is destroyed! We have rewarded him for his help.’
‘Rewarded?’ Gello asked, looking at the dead man.
‘He died swiftly,’ Horna said coldly. ‘A death that Brother Onzalez can only pray for! After lying to us, losing our army, now we find his plan to destroy the army of Aroaril-lovers has also failed and this city is under siege. So, King Gello, what can you tell us?’
‘We are holding the walls,’ Gello said immediately. If Onzalez was about to die, he had no intention of joining the man. ‘But if you want to save this city you need someone to command them. The officers you have are useless…’
‘You are in no danger from us for now,’ Horna said dryly. ‘Now tell us what is happening.’
‘My cousin commands the army facing us. At the moment they are marching around the city, using magic to tell the people that this army is not here to sack Tenoch, but merely end the Council’s rule. That afterwards all people from other cities on the continent may return to their homes, no more human sacrifice—’
‘Outrageous!’ a Fearpriest on the far side of the table snorted.
‘Meanwhile they are healing your men wounded in the battle. These wounded are returning to the city, after no doubt being given the same message to spread.’
‘The people will not believe this!’ one Fearpriest stated.
‘They might. It would not be a problem if we still had our army to maintain control but, thanks to the mistakes of Brother Onzalez, that is not possible,’ Horna said ominously.
‘So what do we do, Brother Horna?’ someone asked.
Horna stood.
‘It is time to end this foolishness. We must show the people our true power. No longer shall we rely on others to do our bidding. We must meet the Aroaril-lovers ourselves and destroy them, so all can see that the power of Zorva cannot be challenged!’
Gello hesitated at that. If the Fearpr
iests saved themselves, then where did he fit into their future?
‘High One, that is not a good idea,’ he said loudly.
Horna swivelled. ‘You dare to contradict me?’ he asked coldly.
‘No, I am merely warning you. The Aroaril-lovers have as much power as you—if you go out there, your people will see you defeated, they’ll watch some, if not all, of the Council perish.’
There was silence in the chamber.
‘What nonsense is this? Zorva is stronger than Aroaril—we cannot be defeated by mere priests of that weakling religion!’ Horna snorted.
‘Brother Onzalez was humbled by a priest of Aroaril. That was why we lost the battle in Norstalos and why your army was destroyed,’ Gello replied coolly.
‘What?’ In an instant, the focus switched from Gello to Onzalez.
‘He lies! I was not defeated!’ Onzalez shouted furiously, glaring at Gello but Gello felt no loyalty to him.
‘Look at the mark on his face. Left there by an old priest, not long for this world, who was barely able to control his bladder, let alone his God’s power,’ Gello sneered, knowing he had to embroider the truth if he was to swing the Council around to his side.
Onzalez snarled with rage, straining at his bonds, but Horna was at his side in a moment and reached out, grasping Onzalez’s temples. Onzalez tried to struggle, tried to squirm away, but the ropes and Horna’s strong hands held him. Gello felt his heart pounding as he realised Horna was about to wrest the truth from Onzalez’s own mind. Was this what the legends meant when they said Fearpriests could read minds? He shuddered at what might happen if they ever tried to do that to him.
Then Horna released Onzalez and turned back. ‘It is true,’ he confirmed bitterly. ‘Onzalez was humbled by a priest before the walls of the Norstaline capital. He fears the Aroaril-lovers now, thinks they have too much power for him to defeat.’
‘See!’ Gello cried, partly in triumph, partly in relief. ‘It is not safe for you to go out there and face the priests and priestesses of Aroaril! You must rely on me to protect you!’
Fifteen cowled heads turned towards Horna, who slammed his fist into Onzalez’s midriff in an explosion of anger.
‘I warned you. I warned you all. Onzalez’s lust for power has brought us to this!’ he howled. ‘Now see what he has done!’ He struck Onzalez again, leaving the Fearpriest gasping, before turning back to the table. ‘King Gello,’ he said heavily. ‘Hold the walls for us. The people cannot see us defeated—it would be the beginning of the end.’
‘Agreed!’ the rest rumbled.
‘What is it they want?’ Horna asked, leaving a moaning Onzalez hanging in his bonds.
‘They want the Egg back, as well as the Radiant Child that protected it. They obviously fear the Egg, otherwise they would not have tried to trick us into giving it to them. They offered to walk away and leave us alone in exchange for the Egg and the girl, which means they think it has the power to destroy them.’
Horna nodded. ‘That could be our way out of the mess Onzalez has created. King Gello needs to get back to the walls and give us the time we need to stop our enemies. Do you need our help?’
Gello only hesitated for a moment. ‘I can do it alone, with help from Brother Prent and the fellow priests already there,’ he said confidently.
‘Acceptable,’ Horna rumbled. ‘But we shall send orders to the other priests. If you look like failing, we shall arrive, to take control ourselves. Meanwhile we need to get the Egg in here, as well as the girl. If she can show us how to use it to destroy the army that threatens us, then she may live. Otherwise, she and Brother Onzalez shall die on the altar at dawn.’
‘Agreed!’ The Council spoke as one voice.
Argurium flew over the city wall so low that her tail almost brushed the top. She fought for height, circling over the fields to the far side of the city, where livestock ran in fear from the dragon overhead. Merren desperately tried to see what was below, and also to hang on. Seemingly, the magic that kept her safe and protected on the dragon’s neck was gone, for the wind was buffeting her and only the harness was keeping her in place.
Argurium swooped, towards where Merren could see Martil and his Rallorans making their way around the city wall. The dragon seemed to be fading as they flew towards the Rallorans, who were running to meet her.
‘Forgive me,’ Argurium’s voice echoed sadly within Merren’s head.
Karia had to use every trick Barrett had taught her to maintain control as she was escorted by Ezok into the Council chamber. To see so many hooded Fearpriests was almost more than she could bear. She had spent the day by herself, eating, playing and singing. It was comfortable enough but she knew where she was—and at night she could hear faint cries echoing up from below. She knew what went on here. But amid the fear there was a ray of hope. She could see the Dragon Egg. If she could just get her hands on it, she would destroy every filthy Fearpriest in this room.
‘Radiant Child, as spokesman for the Council of Eighteen, I order you to serve us,’ a deep-voiced Fearpriest rumbled. ‘Show us how we can use the Egg to destroy our foes.’
Karia had no intention of doing so but she did want to get her hands on the Egg, so she began to walk towards it.
‘Do not let her near the Egg,’ Ezok warned, grabbing Karia’s hand.
For a moment she was too afraid to move or think but then her mind cleared.
‘Do not listen to this liar,’ she said softly, trying to make her voice sound mystical, the way Barrett had said clients expected it to be. ‘He claims he knows how to use the Egg but he has fooled you. He does not know its true purpose. It was I who used it every time. He pretends to know what it does in order to save his miserable life.’
‘You little…!’ Ezok shrieked, but he did not have time to finish his sentence before a pair of Fearpriests were next to him. At a gesture from them, he was frozen into immobility.
‘Show us where the truth is, Ezok,’ Brother Horna intoned. ‘Show us how you can harness the Egg’s power.’
Ezok’s eyes darted around desperately, but there was no escape. At a gesture from the Fearpriests flanking him, he floated gently across the room until he was next to the Egg. Immediately it began flashing at him, pulsing a deep, angry red, an unmistakeable warning.
‘Show us!’ Horna repeated.
Ezok was released from his magical bonds a moment later. The sudden freedom made him stumble, almost fall into the Egg. He reached out his hands instinctively—and screamed in agony as the Egg flared up, burning his hands where it touched the surface. Howling with pain, Ezok reeled away, clutching his hands under his armpits. A faint smell of burning flesh wafted across the room and Karia looked away in revulsion.
The Fearpriests did not look away, however, and used magic to shackle Ezok to the wall next to Onzalez, using ropes there for just that purpose. Ezok hung there, moaning at his blackened hands until, at a gesture from Horna, he slumped silently in his bonds.
‘I think that tells us where the truth is,’ Horna observed. ‘Now, child. Will you use the Egg for our purpose?’
Karia forced herself to stay calm and look at the Fearpriest. ‘Let me show you what I can do,’ she declared, walking slowly across the room to where the Egg waited.
The Fearpriests parted before her and she struggled to keep her steps slow, her pace measured. She wanted to run to the Egg, use its power to crush these bad men. But she had seen what had happened to Ezok, how they had held him immobile. She did not want to give away what she was about to do. Still, as the Egg began to flash gold, blue, green and yellow, pulsing out a greeting to her, it was hard not to smile. She could feel its power, could almost imagine what she could do once she had her hands on it.
The room was silent as she reached the Egg. She held her hands just above the surface of the Egg and felt its gentle warmth reach out to her. Colours flashed across the Egg, lighting up her face and making the room sparkle.
‘The Radiant Child!’ one Fearpriest mut
tered.
One final surge of colour seemed to almost explode from the Egg, making several of the Fearpriests instinctively cover their faces, then it settled down, glowing a pale golden colour.
She turned to face the assembled Fearpriests, then pressed her hands onto the Egg.
Merren could see the ground through Argurium now. If that was not bad enough, she could glance to her left and right and see the dragon’s wings, still beating hard, were no longer thick with scales, but seemed to be made up of golden points of light. And these were moving, going down the dragon’s body, transforming the seemingly solid scales and body into light everywhere they touched.
Merren did not want to look down. She was scared of what she might see. She could not die! She had to tell them what she had seen, how they could get into the city. But the wind was hammering at her now and she forced herself to look down.
She was no longer riding on a dragon’s neck, she was in mid-air, sitting atop what seemed to be a cluster of golden lights. Below her, Barrett and Martil were racing towards her.
Thank Aroaril, Barrett can use his magic to get me down safely, she thought with a surge of relief.
Barrett skidded to a stop, below where Argurium used to be, and now merely a dragon shape etched in golden light was fading.
‘Do something, wizard!’ Martil roared at him.
Barrett did not even dignify that with a reply. Instead he reached into the magic, ready to slow Merren’s fall and ensure she landed safely.
But nothing happened.
‘Hurry!’ Martil bellowed.
‘It doesn’t work! There is no more magic!’ Barrett screamed back at him.
‘What?’
‘You bloody heard me! The magic doesn’t work!’
Martil stared at Barrett in horror for a moment, then looked up to where Merren was almost falling now, still fifty feet in the air. Desperately he pointed the Dragon Sword at her, wished with all his heart that she was safe.
