When Dragons Rage

Home > Science > When Dragons Rage > Page 5
When Dragons Rage Page 5

by Michael A. Stackpole


  Sephi shook her head. “They’re big enough to look the part of heroes, but they don’t look the part of your father’s son. You fit perfectly, and I know you will fulfill the prophecy.”

  The thief had no difficulty reading sincerity in her words. He couldn’t explain exactly why he knew she was telling the truth, but years of dealing with the best liars in Yslin’s underworld had let him sort fact from fiction. She wanted him to believe her, and he did.

  “How is it, then, Sephi, that you managed to identify Crow as Hawkins? You weren’t even born when the Traitor was exiled.”

  She shifted her shoulders uneasily. “I didn’t, not really. After you rescued me, there were things that had been taken from my possessions. Distalus had been keeping notes and I had to assume they had fallen into the wrong hands. I didn’t know who any of you were, but I took some things while we were together. From you I had a gnawed bone, a piece of bloodied cloth from Resolute, a lock of Crow’s hair. When I got to Yslin, I turned them over to the king’s sorcerers and they used magick to identify them. They actually didn’t figure out Crow was the Traitor until they returned to Meredo. By then Crow was in Okrannel and they lost track of him until they received a message saying he was escorting Princess Ryhope south from Fortress Draconis. I was sent here to Tolsin to identify him.”

  Will nodded, knowing she’d left out some details, but that hardly mattered at the moment. “When you saw Crow again, Sephi, did you remember he had saved your life? Did you remember how he cared for your wounds?”

  Her hand tightened on his forearm. “My lord, you have to understand. All my life I had been taught to hate the Traitor and love my king. When I entered the crown’s service, bringing him to justice and ending the threat to our nation was a sacred goal. And then, when the sorcerers made the match, I was summoned to the capital. I was feted and praised. The king himself told me he was so proud of me. I was . . . well, I did not think clearly. I didn’t think at all until I had identified him and had told his brother who he was. The pain in Colonel Hawkins’ eyes, the hatred I knew I would see in yours . . .”

  She hesitated for a moment. “I know that what I did was not wrong. I had been trained to it. I had to do it to save my nation. But I also know what Crow did on Wruona. I know now what he did at Svoin . . .”

  Will nodded. “Last night they were singing Squab songs. In them, he’s a coward. He’s the first to run, the first to snivel, always deserving of a boot in the rear. Listening to the songs, all I could think was that this wasn’t Crow.”

  Sephi nodded slowly, and Will gave her a smile. “Sephi, I know—Crow knows—that you were only doing your duty. You had no choice, but I also think you know that Crow isn’t Squab. There is no way anyone who was such a coward would spend a quarter century fighting Chytrine. And there is no way such a coward would inspire such fear in Chytrine that she would blackmail a whole nation into trying to kill him. The fact that she so wants him dead should tell you everything you need to know about him.”

  Her eyes widened with the full import of his comment and her hand rose to cover her mouth. “Oh! What have I done?”

  “It’s not what you have done, Sephi, that is important. It is done.” Will let warmth flood his voice and he began to offer her a way to rectify her errors. “And I would not ask you to betray your beliefs or your friends. The simple fact of things is this. Since we now know how much Chytrine fears Crow, we know that he is a key to her defeat. If Crow dies, she wins—and we can’t allow that.”

  “Oh, my lord, I will do anything . . .” Sephi clutched his arm, then loosened her grip, her voice shrinking to a whisper. “You do not trust me, and with good cause. If I thought I deserved it, I would beg your forgiveness.”

  Will smiled and reached up to stroke her cheek. “Sephi, the last thing I would want is for you to get into trouble. I do not want you to compromise your beliefs. There is something you can do to help, though, if you would be willing.”

  She nodded solemnly. “Anything, my lord.”

  Will aped her nod, then glanced about conspiratorially before lowering his voice. She leaned closer in anticipation and he knew he had her. He’d shown her how actions she thought would save her nation were actually going to do it harm. She would do anything to fix that, as he intended. In Yslin he’d not have cared one whit about using her, but here it made him a bit uneasy. Still, she got Crow into trouble, so she can help get him out again.

  He spoke just above a whisper. “Just keep your eyes and ears open. I know you are good at that. If you hear or see anything that would help Crow’s situation, let me know. This is especially true in Meredo, since you know the city.”

  “Yes, Lord Norrington, I will. I promise.” She sighed again. “When I met you, I knew you were special. I just didn’t know how special. I am glad my judgment then was good, and you have proven it here. Thank you, my lord.”

  He gave her a wink. “Your keeping faith with Oriosa tells me a lot about my new nation, Sephi. Now, if we work together, we can guarantee its future.”

  “Yes, my lord, exactly.” She slid her hand from his arm, then pulled away and headed back toward the street. “You will hear from me.”

  Will nodded and watched her go. That minor pang of guilt over having manipulated her sparked in him again, but his sense of betrayal smothered it effectively. He wasn’t certain what she would do to help Crow, or how helpful she would be in accomplishing that task, but it didn’t hurt to have her on his side.

  And if she was playing me, as she tried to do before? Will shrugged and stalked back toward the street. He was Lord Norrington. If she chose to spy on him and betray him to Scrainwood, well, she’d have to work hard to find something to betray. By the time she could have anything good, I’ll have learned enough to protect myself.

  Smiling, Will returned to his stroll through Tolsin and could see, from the expressions others wore, his smile was a good omen indeed.

  CHAPTER 6

  K errigan Reese huddled as best he could in the shadows and shivered. The cool night air had little to do with his discomfort, as he was bundled up against it and swathed in black woolen clothes that rendered him invisible. He even sank to one knee, as did the expedition’s leaders, though he knew he’d be at a sore disadvantage when called upon to move quickly.

  Kerrigan shivered because the last time he had engaged in this sort of secret operation, Orla had died. Granted, the streets of Tolsin were not the streets of the Wruonin pirate haven, and the local constabulary was not a band of bloodthirsty cutthroats who just happened to have a sullanciri visiting them. Still, he’d made a mistake then, and his mentor had paid dearly for it.

  Well, at least the princess thinks this is a good idea. He let his shoulders slump a little. Then again, she’s not here.

  In front of him, shrounded in black, Resolute and Will knelt to study the Thistledown Tavern. The squat, two-story building didn’t look like much, with its thick thatched roof and tiny windows. The dim light leaking out from behind the warped glass suggested the miserly distribution of candles, but that suited their purpose perfectly.

  Two men stood beside the door on guard duty, stamping their feet against the cold. The two of them might have been enough to daunt Tolsin’s criminal element, but not the crew that had assembled that night. Resolute could have slain either of them in an instant, and Will was no slouch in combat. Dranae—a massive human warrior, with dark hair, a full beard, and blue eyes—crouched beside Kerrigan. The man towered over him and weighed more than he did, despite not having an ounce of fat on him. Kerrigan would have loved to be that strong, but his life on Vilwan had not exactly been physically demanding. Dranae carried a short wooden staff that hardly looked like much of a weapon, but in a strong man’s hands it could break bones.

  The last two members of the company carried no weapons. Qwc, a Spritha, clung to the eaves of the building against which Kerrigan huddled. The lack of light made his green carapace look black, but his four wings still managed to flicker
as if trapping starlight. His upper pair of hands smoothed his antennae while the lower pair and his feet kept him anchored to the wall. Though only a foot tall, Qwc’s speed and ability to fly made him useful.

  His voice buzzed low. “Just two, just two there.”

  Resolute nodded. “Lombo?”

  Kerrigan glanced back over his shoulder at the creature hulking there. The Panqui was an intelligent beast who had once been a Wruonin pirate until he had been betrayed and almost slain. Huge, with bony plates armoring his flesh, long retractable claws, and a jutting muzzle full of teeth, he looked more than sufficient to tear the town apart, much less two guards before some tavern. In battle against Chytrine’s forces the Panqui had gleefully attacked and killed Grand Temeryces, coming away without a scratch.

  Lombo raised his muzzle and sniffed, his ears flattening back along his skull. “Two outside. More inside. And Crow.”

  The Vorquelf nodded, then turned back to look at Kerrigan. “Your turn, Adept. Can you do it?”

  Kerrigan frowned for a moment, then flicked fingers at the building. The spell he cast sped unseen at the tavern, then raced back to him, allowing him to view it with mageyes. For him, the night’s gloom vanished and the building lit up, with each living creature glowing more brightly than the candles. Aside from the two men by the door, three more people occupied the upper floor. One was sleeping and the other two were . . .

  Kerrigan blushed and refocused on the ground floor and the basement. Four men remained in the tavern itself, and he picked up two more individuals in the cellar. They were very close, but one lay on the ground while the other fairly blazed with activity. “Someone is down there with him and is kicking him.”

  Will turned, eyes narrowing. “Stop him.”

  The young mage opened his mouth to explain that while casting the spell in question was simple, focusing it to hit the people in the basement would be trickier. But the look in Will’s eyes indicated that an explanation would be wasted. While Kerrigan knew his Vilwanese tutors would have berated him soundly for using his skills in an illegal activity, he drew in a deep breath, set his shoulders, then opened his palms and let the spell ripple out.

  The magick flowed out effortlessly, moving through the night like fog. The two guards collapsed in boneless heaps by the door. Within the tavern itself, the sleeper upstairs burrowed deeper into the covers and the other two relaxed into sleep; even falling out of bed didn’t waken the one of them. The guards on the ground floor toppled to the floor or sagged in their chairs. And in the basement, the man who had been kicking Crow dropped to the ground as if he had been poleaxed.

  Kerrigan smiled and Will began to head toward the building. The magicker grabbed his wrist. “Wait.”

  “Why?”

  A series of staccato thumps sounded from around the building. Plump little creatures fell from the eaves and a couple more plopped down from the roof. Will craned his head forward, then shivered. “Rats?”

  “There will be more inside, so be careful.”

  The Vorquelf raised a hand and pointed to the building. Qwc flew straight away to it, then keened a high tone. The others followed in his wake, with Lombo hefting the two fallen guardsmen. Dranae and Kerrigan appropriated their spears and helmets, then took up the guard positions while Will unlocked the tavern door with a click. Lombo, the Vorquelf, and Will disappeared inside. The Spritha then launched himself into the air and began a circling patrol.

  Kerrigan really didn’t expect much trouble. Princess Alexia and her Gyrkyme companion, Perrine, had hosted a dinner for Call Mably and the other local nobility. They’d all been seated well above the salt, while the present company had lurked below it, pretending to drink far too much and stumbling off to bed while the others engaged in discussions of world affairs and other important events. None of the guests would be allowed to leave until Alexia declared the festivities at an end, and she’d not do that until Qwc returned and let her know the night’s adventure had succeeded.

  Dranae fitted the dented helmet on his head. “Your control of magick is impressive, Adept Reese.”

  Kerrigan blinked. “Oh, no, I was very sloppy.” He toed one of the sleeping rats. “If I had concentrated, I could have gotten just the men. Oh, and the dog in the corner, too. I just let the spell go and got everything in there. I should have been more precise.”

  “But Adept Reese, I was under the impression that outside the realm of combat magicks, humans did not have the discipline necessary to work magick on living creatures. In fact, isn’t the spell you used part of an elven healing regime to make the injured sleep while other healing spells take effect?”

  “Well, yes, but . . .” Kerrigan frowned. “On Vilwan I had elven instructors. I just did what they taught me to.”

  “You learned your lessons very well.”

  “How is it that you know about magick?” Kerrigan tried to keep his voice even. “No disrespect intended, but . . .”

  “But I hardly seem like a scholar?” The big man shrugged and tapped the helmet over the left side of his head. “You know that Crow, Resolute, and Will rescued me from a squad of gibberkin. They had made me a prisoner and hit me in the head. I don’t remember anything from before I joined with Crow, so I can’t answer. Could be it was something I overheard while on Vilwan, fighting the pirates. There were elven healers there, so that’s probably the answer.”

  Kerrigan nodded easily. “Elven magick is very difficult to learn because it is different than human magick. Human magick you construct, whereas elven magick flows and grows.”

  Any further discussion of magick ended with the tavern’s door opening. Resolute emerged first and Lombo followed, dragging a guardsman in each hand. He sat them beside the door, with their backs against the building. Will exited last and relocked the door while Dranae and Kerrigan returned the helmets to their respective owners.

  Resolute frowned as he took the helmet Kerrigan had put on the man’s head and turned it around properly. “It’s done.”

  Kerrigan smiled. “It worked?”

  Will laughed. “Perfect, Kerrigan. When all this is over, you and me are going to be unstoppable. You drop the guards, and I’ll get the goods.”

  The Vorquelf glanced down at the thief. “You didn’t steal anything, did you, boy?”

  Will’s nostrils flared. “That wasn’t part of the plan. No.”

  “Good. Then move.”

  The five figures hustled away from the tavern. Kerrigan hesitated in the shadows from which he had cast the spell. “Do you want me to wake them up?”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  Kerrigan looked first from Resolute to Will. “Which?”

  The Vorquelf shook his head. “Let them wake at dawn as they normally would.”

  Will groaned. “But that means the guy in the basement will stay sleeping.”

  “Let him. It just postpones things.”

  Dranae raised an eyebrow. “The one who was kicking Crow? What did you do to him?”

  Resolute shrugged. “The ladder down into the cellar is steep. He fell. Broke his leg.”

  Will nodded. “A really nasty break, too, with the bone poking out and everything.”

  Kerrigan blanched. “You broke his leg deliberately?”

  “I wanted to break both of them, and then stuff his thumbs up . . .”

  “Enough, Will.” Resolute urged them on through the town, pressing a hand over Kerrigan’s spine. “There are times, Adept Reese, when petty evils need to be met with painful retribution. The man will recover, but anytime he goes to kick someone else, he will remember. It’s not much of a victory, but for this night’s work, it will do.”

  The rustle of feathers that announced Perrine’s arrival came more quietly than the dawn’s scrabbling of waking pigeons in the eaves. Alyx smiled and leaned out the window as the Gyrkyme folded her wings. Perrine had the coloration of a falcon, which was common for the Gyrkyme warrior caste, with dark brown feathers over shoulders and back, which sh
aded to cream over her breasts and belly and were dappled with brown. Large amber eyes flickered with intelligence, though the brown fletching around them did make her look as if tears had stained her face. The fierce grin belied any sadness, however.

  “You were right, sister, they gathered at the far end of the town, thinking to go around as they headed to the capital. Lombo has squatted in the gate, and seems oblivious to the two guards beating him with sticks.”

  Alyx shook her head. “I’d best get down there in case he decides to notice. Will you . . . ?”

  Perrine screeched happily and launched herself into the morning air with a powerful beat of her wings. “Not too much blood, I promise.”

  “Thank you, my sister.”

  Alexia turned and stalked through her room, leaving her baggage and sword behind. As was her custom, she had braided her hair into a thick queue and tied it off with a black leather thong. She’d attired herself in a simple doeskin tunic and trousers to match, though they had been dyed black. She’d tucked them into her boots and belted the tunic with a wide belt into which she had tucked her gloves. Accustomed as she was to wearing her coat of mail, she felt light and almost naked without it as she flew down the stairs and out into the street.

  It didn’t take her long to cross the distance from the inn to where Call Mably and his squad of guards had gathered. Lombo still squatted in the gateway, with the splintered bits of sticks littering the ground around him. Perrine perched on top of the gate, gazing balefully down at Mably, and Qwc had lighted on Crow’s shoulder. Around them, various townfolk had begun to assemble.

  Alexia smiled as she broke into the circle and grabbed hold of Mably’s horse’s bridle. “Magistrate Mably, had you told me you intended to leave at this hour, I would have adjourned our celebration earlier.”

  Were it not for the green mask he wore, Mably’s face would have had no color. Alexia revised her initial assessment quickly, for his eyes were rather red and his skin actually hinted at the color of his mask. She resisted the temptation to spook his horse, which easily would have spilled him from the saddle and quite probably induced vomiting.

 

‹ Prev