Akiri: Dragonbane

by Brian D. Anderson

  Khamet stared down at the fallen man. “His name was Fenir Lancomb. He and his wife used to eat dinner at our house. His daughter was a friend of…”

  “Try to put it out of your mind,” said Akiri.

  He knew all too well that betrayal was a bitter pill to swallow. And Khamet’s neighbors had done precisely that. But now was not the time. It was taking entirely too long to leave this place, and even villagers would eventually figure out a way to stop them.

  As if reading his mind, Rena said, “At least they haven’t thought to set fire to the buildings and barricades.”

  Keeping close to the houses on one side of the street, they made their way cautiously forward, watching the windows above them for signs of movement. Akiri kept one eye on the force gathering at the next barricade. They held their position.

  Rena moved sideways, keeping an arrow nocked and the bowstring taut but not fully drawn, raised in the direction of the upper windows.

  Akiri heard a creak and stopped dead in his tracks, trying to see everywhere at once. He looked for the telltale sign of a window being eased open.

  Rena saw the movement first. In a heartbeat, she had released her arrow. It found its mark. A sharp thud was followed by a muffled cry and the clatter of furniture toppling as the body fell. Akiri raised an approving eyebrow.

  “My father took me hunting,” she said with a shrug, as though that explained everything.

  Akiri chuckled. He had seen some of the best archers ever to grace a battlefield. And the Dul’Buhar were masters themselves, though it was a lesser-used skill. He recognized training when he saw it. Hunting beasts and slaying men were vastly different. The way she held the bow and drew the string looked Sylfari to his eyes. And if he was correct, it meant that her skill with this weapon was a match to her skill with a blade. The mysteries of this woman continued to deepen.

  “We need to go faster,” Khamet said. “The others should be waiting for us by now. ”

  “Assuming they made it out of the village,” added Tisha, her face pale as she held her daughter’s hand.

  “Be concerned with your own life for now,” said Akiri. “And that of your family. We’ll know soon enough who made it out alive.”

  “You’re still assuming we will,” said Rena, though with a hint of a smile.

  In truth, he could have already left the village had they only Seyla to look after. And the pack horse was slowing them further. But the care with which Tisha had chosen the few possessions they brought along said it was unlikely she would be willing to abandon it. He had seen how protective people could be over the smallest of items, having evacuated more than one town when he was a Dul’Buhar. Border skirmishes had been a constant threat in those days, even when there was a lull in the fighting.

  Rena now took the lead, her eyes ever watchful for more bows. They were nearly there, by Akiri’s reckoning. Perhaps the villagers had decided to allow them to slip past. But the glow of flames coming from around the next corner banished this thought.

  Fire burned behind another barricade. Beyond, he could see no one. An ambush?

  Akiri heard the rattle of chains. Rena heard it as well, and they exchanged knowing glances. A second later came a familiar sound.

  “Hounds,” growled Akiri.

  “I guess that explains what they’ve been doing,” remarked Rena.

  Akiri looked to Khamet. “How many will they have?”

  “A dozen in the pack, maybe more,” he replied. “Hunting dogs.”

  “What do they hunt?” asked Akiri.

  “Bear, mostly.”

  Akiri blew out a heavy breath. This meant large hounds with an aggressive nature. Probably kept hungry. War hounds would have been worse. But this was nearly as bad. Akiri picked up Seyla and placed him atop the pack horse. Khamet did the same with his daughter. “Stay put,” Akiri said to the children. “Do not get down for any reason.”

  Urgency was pressed to the fore by a cacophony of baying in the distance. The only choice they had was to run and hope it took time for the hounds to find their scent. Time enough to find a defensible position. Leaving the village would no longer protect them. The hounds would follow.

  Akiri looked to the barricade. “That way!” he shouted. If they could reach the other side first, there was a chance. He slapped the horse on the rump, sending it into a gallop. “Run!”

  Khamet took his wife’s hand and together they raced after the beast of burden, not daring to look back.

  Akiri and Rena stayed back a few paces. The clinking of chains and the barks and growls of the pack followed… and they were closing fast. The dogs were on their heels.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The horse reared as it came to the barricade, nearly throwing the children from its back. Akiri could hear Tisha gasp as she pressed her legs to run faster. The glow of another pyre revealed a market beyond the barricade, within which waited more than fifty villagers. They did not charge in, seemingly content to allow the hounds to do the work for them.

  Without pausing, Akiri rammed his shoulder into a toppled wagon, his weight and momentum shoving it several inches. Rena and Khamet joined him until there was enough room for the horse to walk through. Akiri could now see the hounds bearing down on them, more than a dozen, each weighing as much as a grown man and well-muscled. Such beasts could tear even the tough hide of a bear to shreds. What they would do to human flesh was unthinkable.

  Once through, they closed the breach and backed away.

  “Take the children,” shouted Akiri, pointing to a narrow alley.

  Khamet and Tisha did as they were told without hesitation. Akiri placed his body between them and where he guessed the hounds would come over the barricade. Rena positioned herself to his back, facing the villagers. But they had still not moved to attack; their faces were awash with eager anticipation at the kill to come.

  “I should have let you go after them,” Akiri said to Rena.

  Before she could respond, the scraping of paws on wood along with the vicious snarls of the hounds demanded his attention. The first of the beast crested the barricade, and Akiri greeted it with the tip of his blade.

  But two more were climbing over a few yards off to his left. Akiri repositioned himself so that they could not go after the children. Unlike war hounds, these did not charge in unison. Rather they spread out, so to encircle their prey. They were trained to nip at the edges until an opening presented itself.

  Fevered cries of approval arose from the crowd as teeth snapped at their prey. The beasts were fast, ducking under Akiri’s and Rena’s attempts to counter and moving just out of range. More cheers said that the villagers were enjoying the spectacle. Frightened or no, I will enjoy killing this lot, he thought.

  He thrust and swiped, but the beasts were clever. They backed away each time he stepped forward, forcing him to limit his attack. There were no better hunters than wolves and hounds. In packs, they were tireless. Most would do nothing more than prevent escape, remaining fresh and ready to fight. When one would tire, another would take its place. A large enough pack could wear down almost any prey.

  Akiri was growing increasingly frustrated, and from the grunts and curses, so was Rena. Back to back, they staved off death. But time was their enemy. Eventually they would make a mistake. One bite could be enough to draw them all in.

  Prey!

  The words rattled through Akiri’s skull as a mighty roar descended from the night sky. Akiri almost burst into laughter at his own stupidity. Killing villagers might not be something he would want Kyra to do. But killing hounds? That was something else.

  She landed hard, a hound crushed beneath her front talons, its yelp silent in a split second. The beasts moved away several feet, momentarily confused.

  “I almost forgot you had a dragon,” said Rena.

  Akiri could see her accusing look. He knew she was thinking that Kyra could have paved the entire way for them. She didn’t understand his reasons for keeping her out of it, and now wa
s not the time for explanations.

  Akiri sliced through a hound whose attention was on the dragon. Kyra swiped her tail, snapping the back of another hound while gripping one in her maw. The remainder charged, ignoring Akiri and Rena entirely. But not even their sharp teeth and powerful jaws could penetrate Kyra’s tough scales. In ones and twos, she dispatched them in short order. The final four scurried off, whining and yelping, tails tucked between their legs.

  The villagers stared on in disbelief. But there was something different about them. They had a strange look in their eyes; fearful, yes, but crazed. It was as if they had been plagued by madness. And it was getting worse. Akiri considered that Yarrow had something to do with it. Perhaps he had used some sinister charm or spell to drive these people to insanity. It seemed likely. Most people fled at the sight of Kyra, or at least were cowed. But these people looked as if fury was building beyond their ability to contain it.

  Shouts and curses arose: accusations of betrayal to the gods and bringing of pestilence; calls for death of the intruders. Akiri knew what was about to happen moments before it did.

  Protect Seyla and the others, shouted Akiri through their bond.

  The mob charged. Though Kyra was loathe to retreat from Akiri’s side, she snorted a hot breath and bounded toward the alley, positioning herself at the entrance. She would leave the villagers to Akiri and Rena. Even this larger number could not stand against them. Like before, no more than a handful carried swords. The rest bore tools and wooden staffs.

  The blood had dried on their face and arms. But it was soon to be wet once again.

  Akiri cut down three in his first strike, the honed steel unhindered by the simple shirts and jerkins worn by his enemies. Rena had drawn a dagger, holding it in her left hand, and was dodging and weaving between the clusters of people, her hands moving with deadly effect. The combination of the two blades was devastating.

  Akiri suffered two minor cuts from a kitchen knife, but returned the assault tenfold. The bodies of his victims soon began to pile at his feet, serving as a barrier, slowing his attackers and allowing him to inflict even more damage. Unlike the first group they fought, these did not relent, their fear now replaced by an equal measure of fury. They seemed determined to die, and Akiri was pleased to accommodate.

  Rena’s battle lust had returned in force. Akiri could see the look of sheer ecstasy on her blood-spattered face. This caused his own lust to return as well. The blood covering her body made it impossible to know if she had been injured. If so, she was not showing it.

  The pile of bodies was now so high the villagers had to stop and climb over. More were pouring from the street further back. But their number no longer mattered. If he had to, he would completely empty this place of life. He had had enough.

  A gangly youth holding a thick piece of lumber tripped forward, falling a few inches in front of Akiri. He lifted his blade just as the youth looked up at him. Akiri paused. Nothing. No thought. The eyes told everything, and those looking at him now were vacant – just as vacant as the scores of undead he had slain. This was definitely the work of Yarrow. He brought down his blade.

  No sooner had he pulled it free from the youth’s heart than a shadow descended on the village. The torches and pyre dimmed as if their light was being steadily consumed. Instantly, the attacked ceased, and the villagers stepped away. Rena hacked at two more, but they did nothing to defend themselves, dying without a fight. She ceased her assault and joined Akiri, her eyes darting in all directions.

  “What the hell is happening?” she said, her knuckles white around her sword.

  Akiri spun toward Kyra. But before he could say a word, the world went completely dark. “Kyra!” he cried. But his voice was muffled, like he was shouting into a pillow. He was completely blind. It was as if the darkness was tangible, something he could reach out and touch. He stumbled toward where he knew Kyra was positioned in front of the alley.

  After three steps, his boot caught on a fallen body, and he was sent sprawling. His elbows smashed into the cobbled stone, slick with blood. He recalled Khamet telling him of the shadow that would visit them in their cells. Yarrow was here.

  He called out to Kyra again, but still there was no answer. He began to crawl. After a few feet, a blinding flash of white light halted him. He struggled to his feet, shadows of his surroundings slowly coming back into focus. Muffled sounds filtered in. Voices. Weeping and wailing.

  “Kyra!”

  Fear struck him. He could no longer hear her through their bond. It had happened before, when he was in Yarrow’s presence, presumably the result of a charm meant to hide her warnings. He stumbled forward. The alley came into view, affirming his fear. Kyra was no longer there.

  Forgetting all else, he broke into a dead run. Khamet, Tisha, and their daughter were huddled together at the end of the alley, the horse just behind them. His eyes turned skyward in a desperate search. Nothing. He called again. No reply.

  A terrified scream jerked his attention back to Khamet and his family. “He’s gone,” cried Tisha.

  A chill shot through his back. He couldn’t see Seyla. He raced down the alley, no longer caring what was happening in the market. “Where is he?” Akiri demanded.

  Khamet was looking frantically. “He was just here. Right beside me. Then the shadow came….”

  Akiri let out a feral yell. Both of them gone! They had been no more than twenty yards away, and they were taken right out from under him.

  “What happened?” Rena called from the opposite end of the alley. “What the hell was that?” She furrowed her brow. “Where’s Seyla?”

  Akiri stalked toward the market. His fear and panic were transforming in to white-hot rage with each step. He scarcely noticed the villagers, wandering aimlessly about, weeping and begging to be told what had happened, why so many dead littered the streets. Who had done this?

  Rena caught his arm. “Acharian,” she said, her voice steel. “Tell me what has happened.”

  Akiri looked upon her with a stone expression, the rage still building. “This was the plan all along. He wanted us here. He moved us around like pieces on a board. And I was the fool who allowed it.”

  “There is no way you could have foreseen this,” she said. “We’ll get him back. I promise. I’ll help you.”

  A villager staggered up and groped at Akiri’s sleeve. “Please, stranger. What has happened? How did we get here?”

  Akiri glared down at the pitiful wretch. In a blinding motion, he struck him with the back of his hand, sending him crumbling to the ground. He turned to Rena. “I leave now. Come if you want. Or stay.”

  “I’m coming.”

  There were no more words that needed to be spoken. Akiri would return to Yarrow. And this time he would not leave until one of them was dead.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The sky brightened with the new dawn. But the sun brought with it no joy.

  The heavens were azure blue, and the air crisp and sharp in his lungs, the temperature having plunged dramatically in the last few hours. Akiri had only remained in the village long enough to raid the local shops for a few odds and ends he thought he might need. He completely ignored the pleas for help and the desperate cries of those few who had survived the mêlée. They had no memory whatsoever that those who had inflicted their grievous wounds were the very ones they were petitioning.

  Khamet had decided to leave with his family, even though there appeared to be no more danger from the townsfolk. He had feared to say farewell to Akiri, thinking that he might somehow hold him responsible for Seyla and Kyra’s abduction. Instead, he told Rena to convey his thanks and gave her instructions where to find them at Tisha’s family farm once this whole mess was over.

  Akiri and Rena started off toward the marshland. Upon leaving the valley and cresting the last of the hills, he spotted something odd. Bodies. Three of them. Upon examination, he recognized them as men he had released from the cages in Yarrow’s keep. There was no obvious injuries,
yet their faces were frozen in a state of utter terror. From the tracks, it appeared that they were heading straight toward the mountains.

  “Why would they be going that way?” mused Rena. “There is nothing there.”

  Akiri considered the possibility that they were being pursued, or that they simply were going somewhere they knew no one would look for them. But the more he examined the ground, the more confused he became. Tracks led from the hills to the spot where the bodies lay. Not three, but four sets; the fourth being that of a child. He continued his search until he was certain of what the tracks told.

  “They don’t lead to the marsh,” said Akiri, kneeling beside a patch of grass that had been pressed down by a small foot. A child’s foot. “They’re leading off toward the mountains.”

  “You think it’s Seyla?” asked Rena.

  “Who else could it be?”

  “But why wouldn’t he come back to the village?”

  “I don’t know. But I intend to find out.” As Rena had pointed out, there was nothing there. No town or village. And none of the maps he had seen showed a pass. Nothing but sheer rock and snow-covered ground. Perhaps he was just frightened and running aimlessly; though that was not likely, given the three dead men. Whatever the case, Akiri had no choice but to follow. Wherever Seyla was going, it was certain Kyra would be there too. I’m coming, he called out. But she could not hear him. The bond was not severed between them; if it were, he was sure he would know. Still, it was suppressed and useless.

  Akiri set a grueling pace, thinking that they should be able to catch up with Seyla. His trail was easy enough to follow, almost as if deliberately so. If that were the case, then this was yet another part of Yarrow’s plan.

  Akiri kept trying to reestablish contact with Kyra, but there was only silence; a void that tore at Akiri’s heart. He found himself glancing up, hoping to see her silhouette against the blue of the sky. But there was nothing. And each time, his sense of desperation grew.