Haelgrund turned back to Stephano and lowered his head to the ground, putting himself almost at Stephano’s eye level.
“Captain! My friend!” said Haelgrund in a rumble of emotion, extending a huge front foreclaw. Stephano placed his hand on the scales of the dragon’s foreleg, a show of friendship between human and dragon.
“I have missed you, Haelgrund,” said Stephano. “I’ve missed everyone in the Brigade.”
“We’ve missed you, Captain,” said Haelgrund, his eyes flickering. He seemed wistful. “I hope you understand why I couldn’t come to visit you. After your king insulted us—”
“I understand,” said Stephano. “Trust me, my friend, I understand all too well.”
Haelgrund shifted his gaze to the young dragons, glad to change the subject. “Who are your friends, Captain? Please introduce us. Sergeant Droalfrig has told me all about my wild cousins.”
Stephano performed the introductions. Viola was shy and flustered, bobbing her head, fluttering her wings and curling her tail. Verdi, seeming offended by the presence of the very large stranger suddenly in their midst, was sullen and rude. Petard was very friendly, and immediately began bombarding Haelgrund with questions about past battles. Viola silenced her brother with a hiss.
“We need to talk, Captain,” said Haelgrund quietly. “In private.”
Stephano and Haelgrund walked away from the others into the open grasslands that surrounded the fortress. Dag visited with Droal, while the young dragons nervously watched Stephano walk off with the large dragon.
“Do you ever hear from Belmonte?” Haelgrund asked abruptly.
Francois Belmonte had been Haelgrund’s rider. The two had been close.
“He sent me word that he was moving to Estara where he had family,” Haelgrund continued. “I thought perhaps you might know something more.”
“I haven’t kept in touch,” said Stephano. “Lieutenant Armand tried to organize a reunion a couple of years ago, and he sent me an invitation, but I didn’t reply. I don’t expect many of the others did either. Best to forget and move on.”
Haelgrund nodded his massive head. As they walked together in silence fraught with memories, the ground shook with the dragon’s heavy footfalls.
“How did you know where to find me?” Stephano asked at last.
“Sergeant Droalfrig has been keeping the Duke of Talwin informed about your exploits, Captain,” said Haelgrund.
Stephano was startled, then realized he shouldn’t be.
Lord Haelgrund’s family were minor nobility, owing fealty to the Duke and Duchess of Talwin, and Haelgrund was a dragon of means. His family owned lands that contained iron and tin mines, along with vast stretches of virgin timberland. Once the dragon families had employed humans to work and manage these assets. But after the dragons had angrily left the royal court, humans had left dragon lands in fear. Stephano suspected that the mines must be closed now, the logging operations ended.
Haelgrund had moved out of the family dwelling when he was one hundred, having built his own house on the bluffs of the Ker Greeh River not far from the duke’s estate.
“Droal visits me whenever he comes to report to the duke. He told us about the attacks by these … what does he call them … Bottom Dwellers. People who live at the bottom of the world.” Haelgrund shook his head in wonder. “Hard to believe.”
“What does the duke think?” Stephano asked.
“That you humans made a pig’s breakfast of things,” Haelgrund said bluntly. “First you sink this island and plunge the world into the Dark Ages. Five hundred years later, these Bottom Dwellers return from the dead to seek their revenge.”
“We weren’t the ones who sank their bloody island, but I don’t suppose that matters to them,” said Stephano. “Of course they have a right to be angry, but that doesn’t excuse slaughtering people and dragons in cold blood. You heard from Droal what they did to the families of the wild dragons. And I’ve heard about how the contramagic is killing your young.”
“The drumming,” said Haelgrund. “We wondered what it was, where it was coming from. Now we know. Those living on the bottom of the world are using the drumming to generate waves of contramagic to disrupt the magic in our world. Only the most magically sensitive humans can hear it, for the sound is very faint. We hear it, however, and we have discovered that when the drums beat, the resonance disrupts the delicate balance of magic and contramagic in our bodies. The contramagic surges and our hatchlings die.”
“Contramagic in your bodies!” Stephano stared at Haelgrund, amazed. “Dragons have contramagic inside them? No dragon ever said anything about contramagic to me.”
“Because you humans would not have understood,” said Haelgrund bitterly. “You banned any talk of contramagic. Your grand bishop would have banned us if he knew. Dragons are a mixture of magic and contramagic. One balances the other. We thought it best to keep silent.”
“So why are you telling me now?”
“The Bottom Dwellers requested an appearance before the Gathering,” said Haelgrund. “They are proposing a nonaggression pact between themselves and the dragon realms.”
Stephano stared, stunned. “How did this happen?”
“It seems these bat riders have established a base of operations at some old monastery in the Oscadia Mountains. We discovered it and, although the base isn’t on dragon lands, it is close enough for the council to be concerned. The duke and I flew to speak to them, find out what was going on.”
“Did they fight?”
“Frankly, Captain, life has been so deadly dull with no humans about that I would have welcomed a fight. No such luck, however. The bat riders were pleased to see us, and said they had no war with dragons, only with humans. They asked if they could present their claims and grievances before a meeting of our Supreme Council.”
“Do you mind if I sit down?” Stephano asked. “I need to think about this.”
“Not at all, Captain,” said Haelgrund, politely offering the use of the tip of his massive tail as a seat.
Stephano sat down on the smooth scales that were warm in the sun. He’d been given so much information he was having trouble sorting it all out. Bat riders in a monastery in the Oscadia Mountains made little sense to him.
“Did the duke ask them why they had built a base in such a remote location? It’s too far from any major human population center to be of use militarily.”
“The duke didn’t ask. I wondered about that myself,” said Haelgrund. “I wanted to question these people, but you know the duke. He declared it wouldn’t be polite. Something else I wondered: Where are the monks that used to live in the monastery? There weren’t any around. The duke did ask about that. The Bottom Dwellers said they found the monastery abandoned.”
Stephano pondered. Given the intelligence the prince had gained about the planned invasion, he could understand the Bottom Dwellers wanting to keep the dragons out of the war. Peace talks, negotiations …
“I don’t like this, Haelgrund. You dragons discover this secret base and suddenly, out of nowhere, they want to talk peace. You can’t trust these humans. As you said, they are killing your young.”
Haelgrund grunted. “The duke finds it hard to trust any humans these days. His Grace is nothing if not fair, however. He wants to hear both sides of the conflict, but he doesn’t want someone from the royal court. He sent me to ask if you would meet with the council to present your side of the argument.”
“Me? I’m not a diplomat!” Stephano protested. “I’m a soldier. I’d say the wrong thing. I always say the wrong thing. You should invite the minister of Dragon Affairs.”
“The duke wants you, Captain. You are one of the few humans His Grace trusts. He also asked the grand bishop to send a priest, Father Jacob Northrop, but he received no reply.”
“That’s because Father Jacob is in prison for talking about contramagic,” Stephano said, rubbing his temples.
Dragons and contramagic. Humans and contramagic
. Bat riders suing for peace with the dragons, all the while killing their young. Trying to unravel this tangle was giving him a throbbing headache. He decided that, after all, perhaps he was the person who should speak to the Gathering. And this would be a good time to reunite the wild dragons with their long-lost cousins, if he could manage to make that happen.
“Very well. I’ll come,” said Stephano. “To be honest with you, Haelgrund, I was planning to travel to the dragon realms to recruit some of the former members of the Brigade to join us in the fight.”
Haelgrund heaved a sigh that ruffled the long grass. “After the insult of disbanding the Brigade I doubt His Grace would permit it. And if we make peace with these Bottom Dwellers…”
“Would you fight with me again?” Stephano asked.
“In the twitch of a tail,” said Haelgrund promptly. “I don’t mind telling you, Captain, these people make my scales creep. Perhaps it’s the giant bats. I could never abide bats, not even the little ones. But…”
Haelgrund did not finish the sentence.
Stephano glumly finished it for him. “But only if the duke sanctioned it.”
“He is my liege lord, Captain,” said Haelgrund apologetically.
Stephano rose to his feet. “When is the Gathering being held?”
“Four days from now. We’ll have to do some fast flying to reach the site in time.”
Haelgrund’s admiring gaze shifted to the wild dragons. “I hope you will bring that beautiful female with you. Such remarkable coloring! I have never seen a dragon like her.”
“I will bring her,” said Stephano, grinning. “She’s my partner.”
14
The decision by King Alaric to disband the Dragon Brigade is deeply insulting to those of our kind who have loyally served and in many instances sacrificed our lives for our country. Hence the decision made by the noble dragons families to withdraw from the royal court to reconsider our place in the Rosian empire.
—Aerdinail, Duke of Talwin
The journey to the dragon realms took three days. They flew north along the eastern side of the Kartaign Mountains, then crossed Rosia’s central plains and headed east until they reached the Jeandieu River Valley. They followed the river east, crossed Lake Fulmeau and then turned north along the eastern edge of the Oscadia Mountains and the mountaintop city of Ciel-et-terre.
Stephano elected to take rooms in the city for the night near the large, natural amphitheater where the dragons held public meetings of their council, as humans knew it. Dragons referred to it as an open Gathering. Closed Gatherings—those open only to dragons—were held in an ancient, secret location in the mountains. Stephano and Dag took rooms in the Dragon’s Foot inn, one of the few businesses in Ciel-et-terre that had not closed its doors.
“The city’s name means ‘sky and land,’” Stephano told Dag. “Ciel-et-terre claims to be the city nearest the sky.”
“Looks to me like the empty city near the sky,” Dag remarked.
“Thank you, King Alaric,” said Stephano caustically. “The last time I was here, nine years ago, this city was thriving: crafters, laborers, innkeepers, priests and barmaids, artists and musicians; children underfoot, dragons in the skies. Now this city feels like it’s near death, if not already dead.”
Haelgrund had offered to take the wild dragons hunting for deer in the forests, promising to return in time for the meeting, which was scheduled to start at noon.
Since their return, the wild dragons had seemed almost pathetically eager to please Stephano and intent on proving to him that they would not fail him now as they had failed him at Braffa. Viola was contrite, Verdi practically groveled, and even the impetuous Petard was subdued. Stephano missed their fiery spirit, their stubborn independence, their need to do things their way, never mind that their way sometimes ended badly.
“I fear our wild dragons are now ‘civilized,’” Stephano said to Dag as they walked the silent streets to their inn. “I don’t think I like it. I can’t figure out how to tell them to go back to the way they were.”
“I think we should be grateful for the peace and quiet, sir,” said Dag. “They’re like rowdy children. On their best behavior now, but it won’t last long.”
“Since when did an old bachelor like you become an expert on children?” Stephano asked, scoffing.
“Six younger brothers and sisters, sir,” said Dag.
“You never told me that!”
“Why do you think I left home to join my father’s regiment at the age of eight?” Dag said with a grin and a shake of his head.
The Dragon’s Foot, located in the center of the city, had been popular with the members of the Brigade. Stephano remembered the owner and was sorry to hear he had died. He expressed his condolences to the widow, who was now running the inn.
“I don’t know how much longer I can keep the dear old place open, Captain,” the widow confided in Stephano and Dag as she showed them to their rooms. “You and your friend are the first guests to stay here in months. I’ve let go all my staff. The only reason I stay is because my Franco is buried in the churchyard. We visit every day. He’d miss me if I was to go.”
Stephano looked out his window. The hour was midmorning, when the streets should have been noisy with people coming and going. The only movement that he could see was last year’s dead leaves swirling about the lampposts, blown by the wind coming down out of the mountain peaks.
“Why did everyone leave?”
“After the Brigade was disbanded, the dragons were angry, sir. A rumor started that the dragons were going to attack the city.”
“That’s nonsense!” said Stephano.
“You and I know that, Captain,” said the widow sadly. “My Franco told the people they were fools, but they wouldn’t listen. The dragons didn’t help. Some of them made it clear that humans were no longer welcome in their realms.
“To be sure, sir, there’s some dragons who have relented. The Duke and Duchess of Talwin, for example. She’s fond of music and invites musicians to stay with her. And there are a few people who remain like myself—maybe twenty or thirty of us. Father Louis tends to our souls. He visits with the duke to talk theology. And the duke has kept on some crafters and masons who do repairs. And then there’s Marcelle, who runs the tavern.”
“I remember Marcelle,” said Stephano warmly. “He was so fat he could barely squeeze behind his own bar.”
“You wouldn’t recognize him now, Captain. Gone to skin and bones. I’m almost glad my poor Franco isn’t around to see what has become of his city.” The widow wiped the corners of her eyes with her handkerchief. “He was a leading citizen, a member of the assembly. Watching his city die a slow death would have broken his heart.”
Stephano and Dag bathed and changed their clothes. Stephano brushed his Dragon Brigade coat and helm and polished his boots. He carried his ceremonial sword, which had been a gift from those under his command. Rodrigo had pawned the sword when the Cadre was in need of funds. After receiving money from D’argent, Stephano had at last been able to reclaim it.
Dag, too, was wearing the uniform of a Brigade officer. Stephano had found it in the same pawnshop where his sword had been in hock.
At first, Dag had been reluctant to put it on. “I wasn’t an officer in the Brigade, sir.”
“You are now,” said Stephano. “Seriously, Dag. I want you for my lieutenant in the newly formed Dragon Brigade.” He gave a wry smile. “Even if, as seems likely, the Brigade is going to consist of only two humans and three dragons.”
About noon, a little before the sun was nearing its zenith, Stephano and Dag set out for the amphitheater, glad to leave the quiet, depressing city behind. They found Haelgrund and the three wild dragons sunning themselves in the tall grass of one of the fields outside the city walls. The wild dragons were excited, daunted, and nervous about meeting the duke and the rest of their noble cousins.
The Gathering of Dragons was made up of eight noble dragons, both male and fem
ale. Since dragons mated for life, if the male dragon died, his mate inherited the estate and was required to attend gatherings as head of the household. Each dragon acted as representative for those dragons, such as Lord Haelgrund, who swore fealty to him or her.
Stephano was nervous about appearing before the Gathering. As he said, he was no diplomat, was prone to blunt speaking, and was impatient with formal occasions. He smiled inwardly, thinking how utterly astounded Rodrigo would be if he knew Stephano was going to address dragon royalty.
The amphitheater was a natural land feature, a dry lake bed on the outskirts of the city. The lake had been created by the worldwide storms that raged during the Dark Ages; the lake had long since dried up, leaving behind the shallow, circular bowl.
The dragons had chosen this spot for the Gatherings and other events, paving the bottom with flagstone, and as an accommodation for the comfort of human guests, adding stone benches on one side of the facility. There once had been a throne for the special use by the Rosian king, but that was removed when Alaric had so insulted dragonkind by disbanding the Dragon Brigade.
When Stephano and Dag arrived, the dragons were already seated at compass points around the circle. The highest ranking dragons—the two dukes—sat at the head, north, with the six dragon counts ranged around the perimeter, each at his or her proper station.
“I’ve told your young friends not to worry,” said Haelgrund as they ambled toward the amphitheater. “The Gathering members are keen to reestablish relationships with our wild cousins. I’ve coached the younglings on how to behave, how to bow, how to address the dukes as ‘Your Grace’ and the counts as ‘Your Excellency.’ I warned them not to stamp their feet or thump their tails. And they must ask to be excused if they need to relieve themselves—”
“I’ll remember that,” said Stephano drily.
Haelgrund hooted with laughter.
Viola moved stiffly, holding her head up, keeping her neck curved at what she thought made her look as noble as possible, though in truth she looked terrified. Petard slunk along with his belly on the ground, looking as though he had committed some awful crime, and Verdi slogged along, grim and resolute.
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