Warlords Rising

by Honor Raconteur

  He got hugged for that, a wing and arm gathering him up into her chest. With an oomph, he settled against her, hugging her back. “I take it that made her happy?”

  “Like you would not believe,” Nolan said, amused.

  It was probably rare for her to be praised, after all.

  “We haven’t settled on a name for her yet. I thought we could throw some out over dinner, see if we can’t come up with something she likes.” Nolan sounded hopeful about this request. Actually, it was more like a demand. Didn’t want to think up all those names himself, eh?

  “Sounds fine to me.” Becca went back to the soup pot, rustling up the bowls from their bags. “It’s all ready. But Nolan, don’t you need to report to the chief that you’re partnered with her?”

  “I will after dinner,” Nolan answered, diving for his dinner bowl. “I’m too hungry to wait, for one thing, but he’s out hunting right now anyway.”

  Nolan always seemed to know where all the dragons were at any given time. It probably had something to do with his magical senses. Just like Trev’nor could tell what the geography looked like.

  Becca, not being a starving teenage boy, was the first to offer a name before taking a bite. “Chellie?”

  The white dragon settled in around Nolan, curling up like a sphinx would, giving her human the perfect ‘chair’ to lounge against. “No,” she said firmly. “N.”

  “Something with an N in it, eh?” Becca shot Trev’nor an amused glance. Apparently that little praise had gone directly to her head.

  From the expression on Trev’nor’s face, he couldn’t think of a single N name at the moment.

  “Thanks, Trev.” Nolan rolled his eyes.

  “This is not my fault. Besides, I just saved us time, there’s only so many names with an N in it anyway.”

  “I’ll remind you that you said that later, when we’re stuck and can’t think of any other names.”

  That might happen sooner rather than later. Becca seriously couldn’t think of a single name that didn’t already belong to a person they knew. One dragon doppelganger was enough. They really didn’t need two. Nolan was right, this…might take a while.

  They spent a total of five glorious days in dragon territory. Becca turned into a teacher after she got done with her own research. At any given time, she had at least twenty dragons sitting around her, plaguing her for more words. Anticipating where they would go, Becca taught them mostly Solish words and what Khobuntish she knew. Sometimes Nolan stepped in, when she couldn’t figure out how to explain a new word, but most of the time it was just her teaching. The dragons, in turn, taught each other so that by the time they left everyone had a basic vocabulary of about three hundred words. And growing.

  An interesting part that was finally explained to Becca, now that the dragons had the necessary vocabulary, was that distance didn’t matter too much to them when they needed to speak to each other. As they explained it, they could hear each other, just not full speech. Becca still puzzled over full speech. She had an idea that dragon telepathy worked like a mirror broach. They could hear voices, but the tone and body language were lost. Dragons relied on all three to get a full message across. To them, just telepathy was a pale imitation of true communication.

  Becca’s dragon leaned her head down so that she could sniff as Becca packed everything into her bag. She had to push the massive head away. “Stop that. I can’t see what I’m doing.”

  After a lifetime of traveling, Trev’nor was of course a pro at packing, and he was relaxing against Garth’s side as he waited for the other two. “She’s a curious one, your dragon.”

  “Like a cat,” Becca responded, exasperated and amused in turns. Ever since she had asked her dragon to partner yesterday, she’d been faithfully followed around and rubbed up against at every opportunity. It was clear to her that the blue dragon was so delighted that she seemed about to burst from happiness. It had not prevented her from being picky about names though. Becca had spent a good majority of yesterday trying to think of a name and failing.

  Nolan’s dragon nearly knocked Becca flat as she turned her head about, nudging against the saddle strapped to her back. This earned a scolding from Becca’s dragon, which had the other cringing back.

  Reaching up, Becca caught her own dragon’s nose and brought her back down. “Easy, easy, she didn’t realize she was that close.”

  “It’s alright, Llona.” Nolan stopped packing and rocked up to his feet, reassuring her. “You’ll get used to this. Is the saddle too tight?”

  Trev’nor, in a flash of creative genius, had used wood and flax fiber to grow their saddles. The bulk of the hardware was all hard wood, seamless in its craftsmanship, with tightly woven fiber in intricate braids making up the rest of the harness. Becca had never seen anything else like it, but Trev’nor said this was similar to how the Tonkowacon saddles were fashioned, just adapted to fit a dragon form. He’d spent the majority of the past two days making them so that they didn’t have to be carried in their dragons’ claws anymore.

  Of course when Nolan asked this, Trev’nor responded first, as he was still making adjustments to make sure everything was perfect. “Is it?”

  Nolan touched a bottom ring. “She said this part is starting to chaff.”

  “That’s not good.” Trev’nor reacted immediately, going to Llona’s side and bringing his magic to bear on the problem. “Tell me when things don’t fit right,” he told the dragon as he worked. “Alright?”

  “Alright,” she responded, voice mellow and happy.

  Concerned now, Becca looked at her own dragon. “Saddle still fits fine?”

  “Sure, sure,” the dragon assured her, head bobbing.

  That was such a Trev’nor move. Now when had she picked up that?

  They’d had no chance to practice flying with their new partners. Trev’nor had finished up Llona’s saddle this morning. They were trusting Nolan to give whatever instructions needed to be said, and were going to fly off by the seat of their pants. There was a sense of urgency pressing down on all of them, a feeling that they had perhaps stayed too long as it was, and needed to go. So even though it would be wiser to linger for a day or three, learn how to fly with each other, none of them wished to do so.

  This morning, they would leave for Khobunter.

  Becca threw her pack on behind the brand new saddle, strapped it in, and then paused and really looked around her. Part of her heart ached at the idea of leaving this idyllic place. It had been so peaceful here, so inviting, that she almost wished she could just stay forever. “We can come back here, right?”

  “I think we’ll have to,” Nolan opined, also strapping his bag into place. “We didn’t do near the setup that we need to really carry our plan into the future. This is totally a stop-gap measure.”

  He did have a point there. “How does it feel, anyway, to have completed your first international talk with dragons?”

  “I really, really wanted a guide book. A manual. Something,” Nolan informed her fervently.

  Laughing, Trev’nor pointed out, “None of those would have helped you. In fact, I don’t think a guide book exists.”

  That was probably true. “In fact, Nolan, you’ll probably be the one that has to write it.”

  “Neither of you are helping,” Nolan moaned, which made them laugh again. “Speaking of, I should probably pay my respects to the chief one last time before we go.”

  “Shouldn’t we all go?” Becca asked uncertainly. She hadn’t actually spoken to him face to face the entire stay here.

  “That…is a good point. Yes, we should all go. Trev, ready?”

  “Ready.” Trev’nor patted Llona’s saddle. “That good? Good. Nothing else chaffing or pinching, right? Glad to hear it. Tell me if that changes.” Satisfied Llona was set, Trev’nor carefully climbed onto Garth’s back, settling into his saddle with an air of caution.

  Becca felt the same way about her new saddle, as she was not convinced she had all of the stra
ps tight enough yet. And she did not want to fall out, thank you very much. The only person that could safely fall would be Nolan, who would likely transform into a dragon or bird or some such thing and just merrily fly with everyone else after that. She double checked everything to make sure that she had a little wiggle room, but not enough to risk slipping out. It should be alright. Maybe.

  Their dragons waited until the humans were settled before taking off and doing a long, lazy turn to the upper ledge where their clan chief liked to lounge. Krys had always claimed that dragons were more cat than anything, and seeing the chief of this entire clan sunbathing made Becca think he was right. Tail often did that exact same thing.

  The chief raised his head, making the black scales gleam dully in the sunlight as he spotted their approach. He sat up more properly as they landed, looking far more massive than any other dragon present. Becca hadn’t been told his age, but she had to wonder, did dragons just get bigger as the years passed? It seemed to be a common theme. If that was the case, just how big was hers going to get?

  Like a parent seeing off a child, the chief leaned in and touched noses with each dragon, lingering there for several moments in a tender gesture of farewell. Then he pulled back and looked each mage squarely in the eye.

  “He asks that we take care of his children,” Nolan translated quietly. “He knows we’re going into danger, that’s unavoidable, but try to not enter into a situation where we know the odds are stacked against us. Don’t hesitate to ask for more help, either. He doesn’t want us to feel that we only have this much help from him and that we’re to manage the rest of it on our own.”

  Truly like a parent. Becca smiled at the realization. “Tell him we will. We don’t want anyone hurt.”

  Nolan lifted his head, expression softening as he conversed with the giant clan chief. “He says, safe flight, and don’t try anything reckless. Fly quickly. There’s a storm coming.”

  Becca turned toward the sky, checking with her own magical senses, and frowned when she realized the dragon was right. That storm had moved faster than she’d predicted. She’d spotted it two nights ago but had thought it would hit tonight, not sooner. Now, they would be lucky to get ahead of it. “I’ll divert it some.”

  “We’re really glad you’re with us for things like this,” Trev’nor informed her fervently. “I hate traveling in storms. Well, let’s go. Thank him for the help and hospitality, Nol.”

  “Sure.” Nolan said the last farewell and then tapped Llona on the shoulder, signaling it was time to leave.

  All of the dragons that had promised to come with them lifted into the air at the same time, making the air swirl in chaotic patterns as wings beat it back and forth. Becca had taken the precaution of tying her hair firmly back in braids, then a bandana on top of it all, and even than a few strands escaped to sneak into her eyes. Clawing them away, she blinked and found that while she had been temporarily blinded, they had already gained altitude and were flying away from dragon territory. Twisting a little, she looked behind her, seeing a hundred dragons flying in her wake like a moving, breathing rainbow. It was a breathtaking display. It was moments like this that made her fervently wish she had some kind of talent in painting, as this would be a scene well worth capturing on canvas.

  Well, maybe she could put it into a crystal and commission it done.

  The flight back into Khobunter took just as long as the journey out of it had been. Becca had taken the precaution of packing a few snacks in a bag hanging off her front saddle rim, so she didn’t starve on the almost two day-long trip. They had stopped for the night, but still, it was late afternoon of the next day by the time that Rurick came into sight, and she was beyond ready for real food at that point. Not to mention getting off her dragon. The flight had been smooth, but Becca wasn’t used to riding anything at all. She basically hadn’t really been on a horse since Shad had taken her to Strae. Her inner thighs were killing her, the cramps were so bad. Massaging them while sitting only helped a little. The minute she was off, she was pestering Nolan for help.

  The ward glimmered slightly in the afternoon suns. No one camped near it, which rather surprised Becca. Surely they’d noticed by now the city was claimed by magic? Or had they tried to get in, failed, and retreated for the time being until they could figure out how to break through? The last was a more real possibility.

  Wards were strange things. Being developed by humans, with human magic, they were easy to set and take down but they had odd limitations. Most of the time, wards could only be made to keep out one of three things: people, power, and everything. Becca understood this in theory, but watching the dragons easily pass through the wards and settle in and around the city walls felt a little nerve-wracking. She had to remind herself, several times, that dragons were not humans. Human beings would not be able to go through the ward like they had.

  Their dragons settled near each other, in one of the open marketplace courtyards. Trev’nor looked around as he hopped off, sliding out of the saddle and easily to the ground. “Looks like they didn’t figure out how to get through the ward while we were gone.”

  “Odds are they didn’t even recognize what they were,” Nolan observed, also sliding neatly out of the saddle. “Or, if they did, had no idea what to do about it. Wards are somewhat complicated to build, magically speaking. It’s not something intuitively obvious.”

  Becca only half followed this as she struggled to get out of her saddle. Undoing the straps was easy enough but her cramping legs wouldn’t let her maneuver free. She hissed in a pained breath and stopped in an undignified position, one leg over her dragon’s neck, the other dangling free and throbbing.

  Of course Trev’nor noticed and pointed it out to Nolan. “I think she’s having trouble. What’s the matter, Bec?”

  “I’m not used to riding,” she retorted acerbically. “I don’t normally leave Strae, remember? And how can you just walk around like you didn’t spent two days in the saddle?”

  “Because I’m used to riding?” Trev’nor offered artlessly, coming toward her with arms outstretched. “Uh-oh, I know that look. You hate me right now, don’t you?”

  “SO, so much,” she gritted out between clenched teeth. “Riding a dragon and riding a horse are different.”

  “Very different,” he soothed, motioning for Nolan to go ahead of him. “Can you help with the cramps?”

  “Sure, hang on.” Nolan reached up and grabbed a handle on the saddle to pull himself even closer. Leaning into the dragon’s side, he put both hands flat against her thighs and let out a thread of healing magic. “Becca, getting mad at Trev’nor solves nothing.”

  “Ridiculous. It makes me feel better.”

  Trev’nor grinned widely. “Is that why you hit me all the time?”

  “No, I hit you because you ask for it.”

  Nolan paused and gave her a strange look. “You don’t hit me.”

  “You don’t ask for it.” What was that? Was that a pout on his face? “Nolan, are you seriously pouting because I don’t hit you?”

  He ducked his head to focus more on her legs. “I’m not pouting.”

  It sure looked that way from here. What, did he feel like her hitting Trev was a sign of closeness or something? That he was being left out because she didn’t punch him occasionally? Boys were strange creatures sometimes.

  Her muscles stopped cramping under Nolan’s treatment and with Trev’nor’s help, she slid her way to the ground. Never had the feeling of dirt under her feet felt so good. “Thank you, gentlemen. Now, we’ve arrived. What shall we do first?”

  “Dinner?” Trev’nor responded, looking at both of them to gauge their reactions. “Then I think we need to sit down and have a proper strategy session. We can’t just bank on having a hundred dragons and forging ahead.”

  “I agree.” Nolan looked around them, eyes going semi-blind as he saw further than their immediate surroundings. “I think I can scrounge up ingredients for dinner easily enough. Becca, get a fire
going? And make sure the dragons are settled. I’ll be back shortly.”

  His was the hardest task, in her opinion. Where was he going to find food still viable after nearly ten days in a hot desert? But if he thought he could do it, Becca wasn’t about to stop him.

  She looked about her and decided that the first order of business was unsaddling her own dragon, as the boys had theirs. Then she’d build a fire and talk with everyone so they knew where to get water. “Everyone, you’re free to hunt!”

  Dragons touched noses, extended their heads to greet her, sometimes nudge her, then took off in different directions. Becca hoped they had enough resources on hand to feed a hundred dragons.

  When Nolan said he could find food, he wasn’t exaggerating. Trev’nor was actually impressed with how much he found. Perhaps it was his Life Mage sense that made him so good at it, but the prince came back with several jars of pickled meat, fruit, and enough ingredients to make flat bread. Even a few pans.

  Becca had chosen a house that had a large veranda and courtyard so that their dragon companions could stick their noses inside with the people if they wanted to. The three borrowed the kitchen and cooked companionably together, each taking the dish they were most comfortable making, then sitting down for a late supper. Trev’nor was very glad for solid food to be in his stomach, as snacking had not really done the trick.

  They put off doing dishes, sticking them in the sink to soak before returning to the table. Trev’nor had found a map of Khobunter in the house’s study, which he laid out flat so they had something to reference. “Alright, I now declare this strategy session in order. We have a hundred dragons at our beck and call, minus the four that will stay here and guard Rurick. What shall we do first?”

  “Rurick is part of the Trexler Warlord’s territory, right?” Becca nibbled on the edge of a thumb as she studied the map. “He can’t be much of a warlord if another came in and carted away the whole population.”

  “Warlord territories fluctuate,” Nolan stated, frowning. “Even if this map is, what, two or three years old? It could be inaccurate. Rurick is between Rowe and Trexler, it gets re-conquered by warlords all of the time.”