Skylan walked over to Acronis. “Did you hear what I said? Why is she angry? It was a compliment!”
“Ah, son,” said Acronis with a shake of his head. “You may be a mighty warrior, but you are a mewling babe when it comes to love. The man whose spirit you freed in the Temple. His name was Garn, I think. Aylaen loved him and he died in battle. And now she is learning to love you and now you talk about dying. She is not angry. She is afraid.”
Skylan could have kicked himself. “I never thought about it that way. Why is it that every word I say to her comes out wrong?”
“Because those words come from your heart, not your head,” said Acronis. He kindly changed the subject. “We’re definitely gaining on Raegar.”
Skylan could see that for himself. The gap between the two ships was rapidly closing. He was glad to be able to turn his thoughts from love to such uncomplicated subjects as war and death.
“Raegar’s dragon is growing tired. She has traveled a far distance, all the way from Sinaria.”
Acronis regarded Skylan with interest. “How is that possible? Will our dragon tire?”
“Dragons are strong, but they lack stamina and endurance,” Skylan explained. “They can fly only short distances before they must stop to rest, which is why they sail the seas with us in search of the gemstones that are Ilyrion’s blood. Kahg is rested.”
Sounds of beating drums echoed over the water.
“That’s interesting,” said Acronis. “Raegar is ordering the rowers to take their positions. See, they are fitting the oars into the oarlocks.”
The rowers thrust their oars in the water. The drummer pounded, beating out the time. The oars moved rhythmically, blades flashing in the sunlight, water sparkling and splashing as the oars plunged into the waves. The rowers aboard the war galley were not slaves. They were men of the city, proud of their job and skilled at their work. The rowers propelled the galley through the water, though the pace was slower than when the Dragon Fala had been sailing the ship.
Sigurd was now starting to pull away. The Dragon Kahg kept the Venjekar on course, aiming at Raegar’s ship. Behind them, the ogre ship was trying gamely to overtake the Venjekar. They could not hope to keep up with the speed of the dragon through the water. The ogre godlord and the shaman stood at the prow of their ship that was falling behind, but still in the chase.
“Raegar has removed something from the dragon’s carved neck,” Acronis reported, staring intently through the spyglass. “I can’t make out what—”
“His dragon’s spiritbone,” Skylan guessed, glancing at the spiritbone of the Dragon Kahg that again hung on a leather thong suspended from the carved dragonhead. “Of course, that’s why he’s using the rowers. He’s going to summon his dragon.”
Aylaen had reached the same conclusion, apparently, for she left her position near the dragon’s head to hurry over to talk to them.
“Aylaen, I’m sorry,” Skylan said as she drew near. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“That’s because you have turds for brains,” she told him. She turned to Acronis. “Raegar has his spiritbone. I need to know what he is doing.”
“He’s lighting an oil lamp,” said Acronis, sounding amazed. “Broad daylight and he’s lighting a lamp…”
Aylaen hesitated, then she reached out.
“Let me have the magic glass,” she said. “I need to see for myself.”
Acronis handed over the spyglass. Aylaen put it to her eye, looked where Acronis pointed. Raegar seemed to leap in front of her and she gave a start, just as Skylan had done when he first used it. Aylaen lowered the glass, regarded it with frowning suspicion.
“I don’t like this magic.”
“It is science, my dear, not magic,” said Acronis mildly. “Someday I will explain how it works. Look again. You will get used to it.”
Aylaen raised the glass reluctantly and forced herself to look through it.
“He’s holding the spiritbone over the flame of the oil lamp. He’s going to summon a fire dragon.”
“I take it this is magic,” said Acronis. “Not science. If you could explain…”
“Dragons have the ability to take their shape and form from the elements,” said Aylaen. “The Bone Priestess dips the spiritbone in the element she believes is best-suited to her needs. You saw me splash water on the spiritbone of the Dragon Kahg. He is a water dragon now.”
“Raegar has decided he’s going to summon a fire dragon,” said Skylan grimly. “He’s likely going to order his dragon to set fire to our ship. Once Fala has destroyed us, she will go after Sigurd, set fire to his ship.”
“The Dragon Kahg would never allow that,” said Aylaen firmly.
“Raegar’s dragon will be hard to stop if our dragon won’t fight!” Skylan said, speaking loudly.
Kahg’s red eye swiveled in his direction, a spark gleamed, the eyelid flickered. The dragon did not slow his speed through the water. The Venjekar flew at Aelon’s Triumph, slicing through the waves. Acronis took the glass. He watched a moment, his expression thoughtful, then he handed the glass back to Aylaen.
“You are saying that Raegar plans to summon the fire dragon, cause it to come blazing to life.” Acronis shook his head. “Your cousin Raegar is a fool. He will have a mutiny on his hands.”
“Because of the dragon?” Skylan was puzzled. “His soldiers should be pleased to know that a dragon is going to fight with them.”
“That is how a Vindrasi warrior would think,” said Acronis. “You’ve been around dragons all your life. The first dragon those men saw just destroyed their city, slaughtered thousands. How do you think they’re going to react when a dragon bursts into life over their heads?”
“An uprising against Raegar won’t matter to us if his dragon sets the Venjekar on fire,” Skylan pointed out.
Aylaen was keeping watch on Raegar through the magical glass. Skylan marveled at how quickly she had taken to using it. Science … magic … one and the same to him. He didn’t take to either.
“Raegar is chanting,” Aylaen reported. “I can see his lips moving.”
“How would he know the ritual to summon a dragon?” Skylan asked. “He’s not a Bone Priestess.”
“The Dragon Fala must have told him,” said Aylaen. “The rituals we use for our dragons are ancient, but they originated with the dragons.”
A ball of fire burst in the air above the war galley and the Dragon Fala came into being. Her scales were bright burnished- orange, her crest reddish-gold, and her eyes blazed red. She was long and slender and graceful. The sunlight shone through her diaphanous wings. She opened her mouth and fire flared from her jaws. Her talons trailed flame. Raegar gazed up at her in pride. But in a moment, he was engulfed in chaos.
Raegar—thinking like a Vindrasi—had not bothered to prepare his crew and, as Acronis had predicted, the sight of a dragon blazing to life right above them sent the crew of Aelon’s Triumph into panic. The drummer beating out the time stared up at the dragon, let out a horrified shriek, and flung himself to the deck, knocking over the drum. The rowers were stationed belowdecks and they could not see what was happening. They heard the scream, however, and the sudden silence when the drumming ceased in mid-count.
Some stopped rowing, while others continued. The blades crashed into each other. Heavy oar shafts rebounded back on the rowers, striking them in the head or chest, knocking them from the benches. On the deck above, sailors were crying out in terror; the soldiers were grabbing up their spears, ready to hurl them at the dragon. The archers were taking aim with their bows and Raegar was running across the deck, bellowing that the dragon was on their side. Two spears arced toward the dragon. Fala snorted a puff of flame at them and they went up in smoke. She cast an annoyed glance at Raegar, who was knocking the weapons out of the hands of his men.
Skylan grinned. He almost felt sorry for his cousin.
Almost, but not quite.
The Dragon Fala flew toward the Venjekar, her wings trailing fire.
CHAPTER
8
Fala was a young dragon, proud and vain and arrogant. The Dragon Kahg had known many such dragons down through the years and he might have dismissed her as a heedless, reckless youngster. But the Dragon Fala was different, unlike any other dragon Kahg had ever known. She was an apostate. She had abandoned her faith in the Dragon Goddess, Vindrash, to give her loyalty and service to one of the new, upstart gods. The Dragon Kahg was more curious than afraid. He wanted to know why.
Most dragons believed that their goddess, Vindrash, was lost or dead. Some were starting to think she and the Old Gods had fled. There would be many more like Fala soon, for as yet Vindrash did not dare reveal herself. The servants of their enemies had seen the power of the Vektia spiritbones and they had learned the secret to wielding that power.
The Dragon Kahg was angry at Vindrash, angry for lying to him and their people about the Vektia spiritbones, angry for telling him they were mighty dragons, the mightiest of their kind, godlike and wonderful. But when the Vektia dragon appeared, Kahg saw that it was no dragon. It was death made in the image of a dragon. Death made in the mockery of dragons.
Kahg remembered what the fey child, Wulfe, had said about it. It’s old. Really, really old. It used to run wild, but then the gods of the Uglies captured it and kept it chained up. The power of creation was captured when the Dragon Ilyrion fell.
The Dragon Kahg knew the truth. Vindrash was not dead, nor lost, nor had she fled the world. She had gone into hiding. Kahg was the only dragon she trusted. She may trust him, but now he was not certain he trusted her. He and the elders believed they had discovered the true nature of the Vektia dragons. If so, Vindrash had not exactly lied to the dragons. She had just not told them everything.
He eyed the Dragon Fala flying high above the waves, shimmering orange and red.
“So you are the mighty Dragon Kahg,” Fala taunted him, her voice booming. “Come do battle with me, mighty Kahg.”
“You are the traitor dragon, Fala,” Kahg returned.
Fala laughed in disdain. “Traitor? What have I betrayed?”
“Our Dragon Goddess, Vindrash,” said Kahg.
Fala hovered in the air, did not fly immediately to attack him. She was probably delighted with her own importance, glad to talk about her favorite subject—herself. She would be eager to proclaim her views on life to this old dragon, who was too weary or too cowardly to engage her in combat.
Kahg was keeping watch on Sigurd’s ship, which was slowly if steadily pulling away. Kahg could see Fala was tired. He would keep her in conversation, allowing her to tire herself still further.
“Humans!” Fala snorted a gout of flame. “Look at them on board my ship, running about pissing themselves at the sight of my glory.”
“Why do you serve them?” Kahg asked.
“I use them, I don’t serve them,” Fala said with scorn. “I pretend to go along with the whims of Raegar, who stupidly believes he is my master. But, like you, mighty Dragon Kahg, I do the humans’ bidding because I am being well paid. The humans have promised me jewels. They have a treasure vault filled with them.”
“Have they given you any jewels yet?”
“No, but they will.”
“And what does the god Aelon promise you?” Kahg asked.
“Is that his name?” Fala asked languidly, flying lazy circles above Kahg’s head. “There are so many gods tromping about heaven these days I don’t know one from the other. I care for no gods, any gods. Why should I? They have no care for us.”
That much is true, Kahg thought bitterly.
“You know that if this Aelon succeeds in driving out the Old Gods, we dragons are next,” he said. “We are a threat to Aelon’s power. He will kill us or drive us off and then seal the entrance to this world.”
“That old cow Vindrash would say that, wouldn’t she?” Fala sneered. “Anything to keep us subservient. Aelon proclaims that he will welcome dragons to his world.”
“Gods lie,” said Kahg.
Fala shook her head. Flames rolled off her crest. “I grow weary of all this talk,” she said, annoyed.
“You are just plain growing weary,” Kahg said dryly. He cast a glance down at his humans. They were well-trained, bracing themselves for the fight, trusting in their dragon. “For days you hauled that war galley across the sea from Sinaria. And now you think you have energy enough left to do battle.”
Fala was angry. “Very well, coward dragon, Kahg. We will see who is weary when I slay you and set fire to your ship!”
“Which is what you should have done in the first place, you silly twit!” Kahg roared, laughing.
Fala shrieked at him, furious, and dove down at Kahg. Her wings trailed fire, her breath roared flames that seared Kahg’s scales. The pain was not severe, but it made him angry. Kahg roared and then ducked his head into the ocean, as though he were trying to douse the fire. He sucked in a belly full of seawater, raised his head, and spewed the water at his foe.
The blast struck Fala in the chest and sent the startled dragon reeling. Her wings flapped wildly as she tried desperately to maintain altitude. Kahg sucked in more water and hit her again. The second blast flipped her over and knocked her from the air. Fala plummeted into the sea, steam rising from her floundering body.
Fala thrashed and fought to keep from sinking as white, foaming waves broke over her head. She choked and coughed and sputtered. Waves struck her repeatedly, slamming into her from behind, crashing over her crest.
Kahg watched with grim amusement as the young dragon paddled her legs like a dog, struggling to keep herself afloat. She glared at Kahg in rage. Her jaws worked. She opened her mouth to roast him alive. A wave hit her in the nose and she began to cough and choke.
“Your human is in trouble, Fala,” Kahg advised. “You had better return to him. And you might tell him, by the way, no experienced Bone Priestess on board a ship in the middle of the ocean would ever make the mistake of summoning a fire dragon, especially when confronted by a dragon formed of water.”
Kahg added in scathing tones, “And no intelligent dragon would ever permit it.”
Fala started to say something, but nothing came out except seawater. She thrashed her legs and flapped her wings and managed, after a few failed attempts, to drag her heavy body up out of the waves. Water poured from her like rain.
Aelon’s Triumph was in almost as sad a state as its dragon. The war galley wallowed in the sea, surrounded by pieces of broken oars floating on top of the water. Raegar was on the foredeck yelling at his dragon, exhorting her to continue her attack.
Fala shook her head sullenly, sending down a flurry of water, refusing to obey. The young dragon had been made to look foolish, her pride wounded. She undoubtedly hated the Dragon Kahg with all her being, but she was too exhausted to fight. Kahg watched her fly off slowly, heading toward the nearest shore to rest and recover, leaving Raegar to shout after her in helpless rage. When men on his ship raised a cheer as they watched the dragon depart, Raegar swore at them and then ordered them to raise the sail.
“This is not over between us,” Fala snarled over her shoulder.
“Come back when you grow up,” Kahg told her.
On deck, his humans were celebrating, laughing at the dragon’s humiliation and jeering across the water at Raegar. The human, Skylan, was urging Kahg on, urging the dragon to attack.
The other humans in the ogre ship were in no danger; they were putting more and more water between their ship and Aelon’s so-called Triumph.
The Dragon Kahg considered his options.
* * *
Skylan stood on the deck of the Venjekar, his sword in hand, thrilled with the thought of avenging himself on his treacherous cousin. Raegar had counted on the strength of his dragon to destroy his enemies. He had never imagined that she could be defeated, or that his men would turn on him. Raegar was out here on the sea alone, with a ship full of demoralized troops. The fearful sight of the Dragon Kahg bearin
g down on them would unnerve them further.
Behind him, the godlord’s ship, at the sight of the fire dragon, had slowed, keeping well out of the way. The vague outlines of a plan formed in Skylan’s mind. He would send Kahg to destroy Raegar’s ship in full view of the ogres. After that, Skylan would sail in triumph back to the ogres. He would offer them friendship while the Dragon Kahg circled overhead, letting them know what would happen to them if they declined. He would ask them to take Keeper’s body, fulfilling his vow to his friend. Then he would boldly demand that they escort him safely to the ogre homeland.
“I will make up some reason,” he said, explaining his plan to Aylaen. “I will tell them I’ve come to talk peace with their godlords. We will find the Vektan Torque and steal it back. But first”—Skylan gripped his sword—“I will settle my score with Raegar.”
He realized suddenly that the Venjekar was slowing.
“What is the dragon doing?” Skylan asked angrily. “Tell Kahg to maintain course! We’re going to fight—”
He saw the expression on Aylaen’s face. “Now what’s wrong?”
“The Dragon Kahg won’t fight,” said Aylaen. “He says we are in no danger and he won’t risk the Vektia spiritbone for some petty human desire for vengeance.”
The Venjekar was turning, maneuvering through the water.
“Kahg says we are going home.”
Aylaen’s eyes glistened with sudden tears. She lowered her head, averted her face.
“No!” Skylan cried. “He can’t do that! We have a chance…”
His words died. He looked at Sigurd’s ship, sailing north, up the coastline. Heading home. Skylan thought of his homeland. He thought of his father, the fields and the forests, fishing in the clear bright streams, playing games on the frozen lake. To bask in the warmth of a fire on a snow-silent night. To hear the laughter of his people as they gathered together in the Hall.
The two threads of his wyrd, one long, the other cut short. He remembered his dream. The serpents of Oran, the armies of Oran were marching to destroy his people.
Skylan would meet up with Sigurd, the two ships would sail home. Then he would wed Aylaen and she would be Kai Priestess. He would be Chief of Chiefs and this time he would try to be a wise and worthy chief. He would lead the Vindrasi in their fight against the armies of Aelon and when Aelon had been defeated, Skylan would raise a mighty army, command many dragonships that would sail to the ogre lands and beyond to find the Vektia spiritbones.
Rage of the Dragon Page 7
