Iron Will

by James Maxwell

  ‘If they’re outside, they’re certainly being quiet,’ Dion said. He nodded in the direction of the stairs. ‘Let’s go up. Be watchful.’

  Dion kept his gaze fixed on the dawn sky as he climbed the steps. Cob followed, and he wondered if the old man could hear his thumping heart. Close to the top step, Dion paused for a moment, scanning the sky and listening intently. With a glance at Cob behind him, he exited onto the citadel’s summit.

  He walked a short distance and then stopped in his tracks. Bile rose to the back of his throat. He swallowed.

  He had known he would see bodies, but nothing could prepare him for this. When the citadel’s defenders had fled, the dragons had swooped down from all quarters, snatching up Dion’s men and carrying them away, or killing them outright with their biting jaws.

  But he now saw that it hadn’t ended there. Rather than scattered bodies, only splintered bones and patches of blood remained. The dragons hadn’t just butchered the young soldiers of Xanthos. They had gone on to devour them.

  ‘By the gods,’ Cob whispered. ‘The poor lads.’

  Dion forced himself to look at the gruesome scene, fixing it in his memory. Remorse and guilt flooded through him. He hadn’t even known all of these men’s names.

  ‘Come on,’ he said finally. ‘Up to the battlements.’

  Dion navigated a path through the pools of sticky liquid and climbed the short steps leading to the walls. He absently noted that the ballistae were all still functional. But he knew he had done the right thing to abandon the area. Palemon wanted conquest. The dragons wanted something else altogether. The decision to flee had enabled Dion’s men to survive. Chloe was alive because of it.

  Cob joined Dion as they gazed out at the plain. They exchanged glances. Cob was whiter than Dion had ever seen him.

  The corpses of scarlet dragons were dotted around the plain, most of them speared through the chest by ballistae. But of Palemon’s warriors, the men who had flown the dragons to war, there was little remaining besides torn chain mail and more bone splinters.

  ‘This is far worse than any army,’ Dion said.

  ‘Palemon wanted us in his thrall. And he wanted you dead.’

  ‘He did. But his actions made an evil kind of sense.’ Dion pointed. ‘That man ran, and they hunted him down. So did that one. The dragons only left when they ran out of food.’

  ‘Don’t say that.’ Cob looked like he was about to be sick.

  ‘It’s true. Don’t you realize?’ Dion looked into Cob’s eyes. ‘They must eat a huge amount. They’re probably on the hunt.’

  ‘By Silex,’ Cob breathed. ‘The town!’

  Dion and Cob raced along the battlements until they reached the adjacent wall. The citadel gazed down on the tiers of houses, which were at the base of the steep hillside. Dion was forced to shield his eyes from the rising sun as he searched frantically. He looked for signs of life: smoke rising from chimneys, people moving about.

  Then he saw that the sun was glistening from patches of wetness on the steep road that divided the settlement. Horror crept up his spine. He saw his first body, or what remained of it; at this distance it was just a smear of red and a few specks of white. He saw more signs: thatched roofs torn from houses; caved-in timber walls; pool after pool of blood.

  Dion was lost for words. Fort Liberty had been home to hundreds of people. Now they were all gone. The dragons would do the same to other towns, and the nearest were in the Galean islands: Parnos, Tirius, Lenus, Orius, and Coros. Soon they would turn their attention to the cities on the mainland.

  He had no illusions about Xenophon’s ballistae. They performed well, and could kill dragons from a distance. But they took time to reload. In that time, any defenses would be overwhelmed.

  ‘What do we do now?’ Cob asked.

  ‘We go back to Xanthos. We do what we can.’

  ‘Dion,’ Cob said. ‘Look.’

  Dion lifted his gaze to where Cob was pointing. He squinted against the sunlight, and then he saw them, highlighted by the golden dawn, clustered on the horizon. Ships. Dion’s eyes narrowed. Kargan could easily have arrived before Palemon, but he had intentionally held off until the morning.

  ‘I don’t see the problem,’ Kargan said. ‘There have always been wildren.’

  Dion and Kargan were standing on Fort Liberty’s sandy beach, a short distance from the large crowd of Ilean and Xanthian soldiers, where no one could hear them speak. Kargan’s fleet filled the island’s small harbor, anchored a little apart from Dion’s four triremes. Kargan had beached only half a dozen of his warships, but, even so, his soldiers greatly outnumbered Dion’s.

  ‘In fact,’ Kargan continued, ‘whatever you did to make the dragons turn, you’ve saved us both.’

  ‘You are not listening.’ Dion glared at the barrel-chested king. ‘They are still out there somewhere—’

  Kargan shrugged. ‘And we will hunt them down.’

  ‘They could return at any time.’ Dion scowled. ‘If they do, we are dead, all of us. They could be butchering our people right now.’

  ‘Bah,’ Kargan said. ‘We have always dealt with wildren in Ilea.’

  ‘This is different,’ Dion said. ‘You faced furies, ogres, and merfolk. Serpents would sink ships, occasionally, but not often. How many dragons do you think there were? A few dozen? Scattered around the world, but mostly in Cinder Fen? Listen to me, Kargan. There are hundreds of them. They are bonded, linked together in some way. If they choose to—’

  ‘You listen,’ Kargan said curtly, holding up a hand. ‘We are kings. You don’t answer to me, and I don’t answer to you. You will do what you think is right. I will follow my own counsel. Now, there is something else we need to talk about.’

  Kargan turned to look back at the two groups of soldiers. His swarthy men with triangular shields stood in perfect formation under the watchful gaze of their captain. In comparison, Dion’s soldiers clustered in small groups. Their shoulders were slumped. All they wanted was to go home.

  ‘I have the larger force, King Dion, and I want something.’

  ‘And that is?’ Dion spoke in a low voice. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Kargan had broken his promise to come to Dion’s aid, but he wasn’t even remorseful. When they met, he had brushed off Dion’s wrath with his typical nonchalance.

  ‘I want your prisoners. I don’t claim to understand any of this magic, but one thing I do know is that Palemon is my enemy. I’m taking him with me.’ Dion opened his mouth, but Kargan lifted a finger to forestall him. ‘I am not giving you a choice. You understand?’

  Kargan strode away, leaving Dion forced to follow him. Kargan called out for his captain to seize the captives. Dion’s soldiers looked to him for orders, and he gave a resigned nod.

  Palemon, Zara, and the gray-robed sorcerers and warriors with them were soon handed over to the Ileans. Dion watched the tall king with the braided beard. Palemon’s wrists were bound behind his back, but he stood proud and tall. He scanned the beach until he saw Dion.

  ‘Farewell, King of Xanthos,’ he called. ‘If I were you, I would have killed me. But perhaps you are the better man.’

  Kargan ignored him as he gave another order. ‘Search the fortress and the area around it. Find any swords, armor, and especially their sorcerers’ staffs.’

  As the captain began to ready a search party, Kargan turned to see Dion hurrying forward. Dion thought of his ballistae and gripped Kargan’s arm. ‘I have weapons in the citadel.’

  Kargan shook his arm free. ‘I think we will take them too.’ He gave Dion a blunt stare. ‘Go home, King Dion. Hunt down these dragons, if it concerns you. Celebrate the fall of our enemy. This is over.’

  21

  The fleet of four triremes sailed clustered together, far closer than Dion would normally keep them, but there was danger in the sky and safety in numbers. A stiff wind propelled them toward Xanthos. Spray shot up around each vessel’s bow as they rode the sets of waves, lifted up and then th
rown down into the valleys behind. With little shade and the sun shining fiercely overhead, the breeze cooled Dion’s burning skin.

  The Liberty, Dion’s flagship, was at the head of the small fleet. He paced the deck, gazing upward and praying to Silex, god of fortune and the sea, for the following wind to hold. He saw storm clouds gathering in the west. They were in the distance, and with the present wind the fleet might pass them by.

  Yet another thing to worry about.

  He knew that the red dragons were out there . . . somewhere. There was little the fleet could do to protect itself, but he had archers on the decks and a handful of ballistae mounted on each vessel. His soldiers were taking their turns at the oars, and he was rotating them every three hours to keep the ships moving at maximum speed. The Liberty was leaping over the waves; with their three banks of oars, Dion’s triremes were the fastest vessels in existence.

  But they could never travel faster than a dragon.

  Cob came up to stand beside Dion. ‘You need to rest, lad,’ he said quietly. ‘You’re no good to any of us if you aren’t thinking clearly.’

  ‘Do you remember when there was always the danger of wildren?’

  ‘Aye. I remember. A serpent nearly swallowed me whole.’

  ‘This is far worse.’

  ‘Aye, lad. That it is. But listen. You’ve been doing well.’ He paused for a moment, then added, ‘I’ve never told you this, but I’m proud of you.’

  Dion met the old man’s eyes. ‘I always wanted my father to say those words,’ he said. ‘But I now realize something.’ He gave a thin smile. ‘They’re worth far more coming from you.’

  Cob reddened and cleared his throat. ‘Enough of that.’

  Dion’s smile broadened, but then, as he remembered their circumstances, slowly fell. ‘Life has taken us on a strange journey, hasn’t it? From sailing the Shards to joining a group of pirates. Then suddenly becoming king.’

  ‘Only one of us is king,’ Cob said. ‘And for that, I thank Silex every day.’

  ‘When Palemon held me prisoner, you came for me.’ A shadow passed over Dion’s eyes. ‘You came in the Calypso, and you sailed me away from that place.’

  ‘But you left something of yourself behind,’ Cob said softly. ‘Dion, I know you lost your child, but there is still a good life waiting for you. And a good woman. She loves you, you fool. She keeps proving it, time and time again.’

  Dion shook his head. ‘I know you mean well, old friend. But there is danger everywhere, and soon I might be dead. What use is that to her? The best I can offer is to send her somewhere far away, somewhere she’ll be safe.’

  ‘Didn’t you learn anything from Jax?’ Cob growled. ‘From Finn? From all of the Free Men? Life is to be lived! We will all die at some point. We have to be happy in the time that the gods give us.’

  Dion was growing frustrated; he couldn’t seem to make Cob understand. ‘I do love her,’ he said. ‘And that’s why she deserves more.’

  He saw Liana come up on deck and left Cob behind to walk over to her.

  ‘How is she?’ he asked.

  ‘Still the same.’ Liana shook her head. ‘No worse, thankfully. Sometimes she talks in her sleep.’ The silver-haired eldran glanced up at the sky. ‘How long until we reach Xanthos?’

  ‘We still have most of the day to travel. If this wind continues, we can be there by night—’ Dion suddenly broke off when he saw a group of winged creatures in the sky, but then he relaxed; they were just sea birds. He clasped Liana’s shoulder. ‘Give yourself a rest, Liana. I’d like to spend some time with her.’

  Dion left Liana watching his back. He climbed down the hatch leading to the lower decks and then traveled toward the ship’s bow.

  Chloe was still comatose. They had cleared some stores and placed her in a makeshift cot; usually ships were beached overnight and their crews camped on the shore. Dion sat on the floor beside her. A thick blanket was under her body, but she had been so hot that they hadn’t covered her, and she wore only a thin silk chiton. Her chest rose and fell with her breathing. There was more color in her face, and when he pressed a hand to her forehead she felt a little cooler. In repose, she looked far more fragile than when she was charging about, determined to see to one thing or another. But asleep or awake, she was always beautiful. He reached up to stroke her long dark hair.

  ‘You need to forget me,’ Dion whispered to her. ‘You deserve to be safe. To be happy.’

  He watched her for a long time. His eyelids began to feel heavy . . .

  Dion jerked awake with a start. He had been hunched over, fast asleep, with his head slumped forward against Chloe’s cot. His head darted around. He wondered what it was that had woken him.

  Then he heard it again. Someone was bellowing his name.

  Dion rushed to the ladder, his heart suddenly racing as he climbed up to the top deck.

  ‘What is it?’ he called out.

  His eyes immediately went to the sky. It was gray where before it had been blue, but the mast and sail were in his way. He began to cross the deck to gain a full view of anything up there. Then he saw Cob close to the stern rail, calling his name and waving his arms. Beside him, Liana was pointing over her head.

  Dion hoped they were drawing his attention to the approaching storm. Black clouds filled the sky ahead with menace. A faint haze of rain below them. With the storm becoming larger and closer, the temperature had plummeted. Lightning flashed, soon followed by the boom of thunder.

  Reaching the stern, he looked up and swore.

  This time there was no mistaking the flying creatures for birds. Too numerous to count, they were far bigger, and their forms were undeniably reptilian. They were distant, heading away from the storm in a group, but if they hadn’t seen the four ships they soon would. The light was so low that the dragons looked black, rather than red. Dion could now make out the bat-like shape of their wings.

  It started to rain.

  It was heavy summer rain, with drops that pummeled the ship and hurt when they struck Dion’s head and shoulders. In an instant he was wet through. Thunder pealed in a mighty rumble. The patter as the rain hit the sea merged with the waves crashing into the ship’s hull and the creak of the mast and timbers. The sound was deafening.

  ‘Liana!’ Dion cried. He kept his eyes on the dragons. If they spied the fleet, everyone would die. ‘We have to draw them away!’

  ‘Draw them where?’

  ‘Into that.’ Dion pointed to the heart of the storm, where jagged lightning bolts were streaking down to strike the sea. He tore his eyes away from the dragons to see Liana nod at him, her face pale but determined.

  ‘Clear the deck!’ Cob cried, waving his arms.

  Dion found some space and stared up at the dragons as he allowed his wild thoughts of fear and frustration to bubble to the surface. He focused on the people he needed to protect. He imagined himself in a new form. He was bigger and longer. He had wings. The sky was his element.

  Mist welled around him. He felt the change come over him. He lost all sense of having arms and legs, and then he sensed his body stretching. He snarled through the mist, pounding with his wings and blowing it away.

  Dion kicked with his powerful hind legs and launched his new body into the sky.

  He immediately sensed Liana flying just behind him while he beat down his wings as hard as he could, heading upward at a steep angle. Rain smashed onto his body, but he ignored it. He pushed away his fatigue and tried to think only of the task ahead of him.

  We can’t come at them directly, Dion communicated to Liana. We can’t let them see the ships.

  I understand.

  Dion glanced behind him, seeing the silver dragon that was Liana gaining speed. She was as large as he was, utterly unlike the slight young woman she had been a moment before, but she still had the same grass-green eyes.

  Follow me, Dion said.

  She drew abreast of him so that they were flying side by side, wings working furiously to cli
mb with such a sharp ascent. Dion glanced down and saw that they were now so high that the waves looked like tiny ripples. Through the haze of rain he could barely make out the fleet. He began to turn on the tip of his wing, angling to head toward the mass of dragons.

  He sensed dread filling Liana at the same time that it sank into his chest. The group of winged creatures was heading toward a break in the clouds. The sun was shining down, pouring light onto the fleet. In mere moments, the dragons would see the four ships.

  Faster, Dion urged.

  The rain had now died away and patches of blue sky showed ahead. Dion and Liana put their heads down and lengthened their bodies. They tucked their wings in and flew directly at the dragons. The group grew larger in Dion’s vision. From birdlike shapes they became red-scaled monsters with broad wings the size of a ship’s sails, outstretched as they soared away from the storm. He was still stunned by how many there were. Even clustered together, they filled a vast portion of the sky. Each flew a stone’s throw from the dragon beside it, some above and others below. Their leathery hides looked crimson in the low light.

  Liana suddenly opened her mouth and gave a mighty bellow.

  Following her cue, Dion roared also. The dragons craned their necks to look. Hundreds of baleful eyes stared at the two newcomers. The group scattered slightly, but then reformed as they all turned. They emitted their own piercing shrieks.

  They flew directly at Dion and Liana.

  Dion tilted his body and performed a tight rotation. He now faced the heart of the storm, where the clouds were black as night. Liana flew just in front of him, and he could see by the furious movement of her wings that she was traveling as fast as she possibly could. The animal cries behind Dion sounded nearer than before, but he couldn’t risk looking back. His skin crawled at the realization that if either he or Liana were caught, they would be torn to pieces in an instant.

  Keep going, he urged Liana. They’re right behind us.