Realms of the Dragons vol.1 a-9

by Коллектив Авторов

  A woman's voice answered Ong in Tuigan and Tycho heard the tavernkeeper click his tongue in gentle reprimand.

  "Speak Shou to me, my lovely."

  The woman giggled.

  "As you command, tremendous one!" she said saucily.

  Tycho didn't recognize the woman's voice, but it was soft and musical, like the little bronze bells that the Tuigan women wore on their jacket cuffs. He grinned to himself. What woman of the oasis had Ong charmed into his arms? More importantly, what woman was worth tempting the wrath of a husband or father for a dalliance? He stretched out on the ground and wiggled forward to peer under the hanging.

  His eyes went wide.

  On the other side of the hanging, carpets and furs and rich eastern silks had been piled up into a kind of bed. Ong sprawled on the pile, his shirt open and his broad belly hanging out. Lounging beside him and rubbing his belly, her beautiful face illuminated by the soft, clearly magical glow of green glass globes, was Ibakha! Ong kissed a finger, then pressed it to Ibakha's lips.

  "Are you teasing me?" he asked. Ibakha shook her head and replied, "You, O protector? Never!"

  Her fingers paused and Ong gasped as she tweaked a hair.

  "Perfidious wench!" the Shou growled. "Do you think that familiarity will protect you from a dragon's wrath?" He forced his voice deep so that it rolled in his chest. "My rage has wiped villages from the face of the world and carved canyons through mountains. I have become a man for you, and your beauty is all that stands between your people and my anger! Do you dare to displease me?"

  "Never, great guardian of the oasis, never!" gasped Ibakha in mock fear, then lunged into Ong's arms with such force that they both rolled off of the heaped carpets.

  Tycho stifled his laughter as he wriggled back away from the peep hole and stood.

  "Ong has what?" exclaimed Li in disbelief. "He's seduced Ibakha."

  Tycho leaned back. The main chamber of the tavern was growing empty. They were the last of the caravan travelers in the tent and only a few of the oasis's women, playing one last round of the knife game, were left. A pitcher of millet beer had been abandoned on the table-Tycho drank straight from it. '

  "He's told her that he's the water spirit of the oasis incarnate," Tycho added, "the sly dog!"

  Li scowled and said, "I knew there was something I didn't like about him! When he said the Tuigan would do anything to avoid offending their spirit…"

  "I don't know if Ibakha really believes her people will be punished if she doesn't keep Ong happy," Tycho said, "but she does believe that the guardian of the oasis has fallen in love with her. I could see it in her eyes." He tapped one finger under his own eye. "Believe me, I've told enough stories to women myself to know the look."

  "It's still wrong."

  "Ha!" Tycho took another drink from the pitcher. "Where's Chotan? I'd like to know what she'd say about this!"

  "Gone," said Li. He nodded toward the door flap. "Possibly to organize the women into a mob to hunt you down. She found the flower you made for Chaka and it vanished while she was holding it. She knows you worked magic in the oasis."

  "Ong should hope-she never finds out about the magic lights he has back in his love nest then. He's probably breaking Tuigan taboos with every step." Tycho chuckled. "But I guess he doesn't need to worry. After all, if he's the water spirit, he's the source of them!"

  "Hoi! Hoi! Hoi!"

  The last women finished their game with a rousing cheer and a final swallow of beer, then rose and swaggered out of the tavern. Li's eyes followed them.

  "I think," he said grimly, "that Ong should be careful. I wouldn't want those knives turned away from the gaming table."

  "Shhh!" Tycho hissed, kicking him under the table.

  Li winced but Tycho flicked his eyes toward the back of the chamber. Ibakha was stepping out from the flap ¦ that led to the back rooms. She saw them and blushed a deep red. Her eyes darted to the floor and stayed there as she rushed out of the tavern. A few moments later, Ong emerged from the back rooms as well. If he was startled or if he saw Li's glower, he hid it well.

  "Still here, my friends?" Ong called. He came over and joined them at the table, producing a mug and holding it out for Tycho to fill. "You'll have a hard ride tomorrow if you linger too long, I can guarantee that."

  "I've traveled under worse conditions," Tycho said. He tapped the pitcher against Ong's mug in a toast. "To good health and bad beer. Tell me, Ong, how does a Shou come to run a tavern at an oasis haunted by a Tuigan water spirit?"

  Ong drank a mouthful of beer, wincing as he swallowed, and explained, "Through a tragic disagreement. Offend the wrong powers in Shou Lung, Tycho, and you can find yourself exiled to-well, to such a place as this." He waved a hand around them. "Still, it's possible to make the best of a bad situation. This is a good oasis. It's safe, the water is good, caravans stop here fairly frequently-"

  "The men leave their women in the care of the oasis spirit when they go raiding," said Tycho, fighting to hold back a grin.

  Li just grunted in distaste. Ong's cup hesitated briefly in its journey back to the tabletop. He glanced at each of them.

  "The women can take care of themselves," he said, cautious.

  "No doubt they can," Tycho replied, "so long as they don't displease the-"

  It was too much. He tried to give Ong a knowing smile, but as soon as his lips even twitched, the grin he had been fighting broke out across his face like a riot. He clapped a hand over his mouth, trying to keep his laughter from bubbling out as well. Beer slopped out of the pitcher as he rocked back and forth. Ong's eyes were narrow. Tycho shook his head and lifted his hand away from his mouth.

  "I'm sorry, Ong," he gasped. "I was in the back looking for Chaka and I saw you and Ibakha. It's just…" He choked off another chuckle. "Well, you saw how Chotan reacted to my just smiling at her!"

  He reached across the table to pour Ong more beer.

  The Shou put his hand over his mug.

  "No," he said.

  Tycho shook his head.

  "Don't worry! It's your business, not mine!" He raised the pitcher to Ong and added, "But you're a clever one, taking advantage of the Tuigans' own superstitions!"

  "The Tuigan are no more superstitious than they should be," said Ong. He reached out and pulled the pitcher from Tycho's hand. "You should go now."

  Tycho stared at his empty fingers then at Ong. The tavernkeeper looked back with a flat expression. "Ong…" he began. "Get out."

  Tycho could feel blood rush to his face, but Li was the first to move. The Shou pushed his chair away from the table sharply and stood up, leaning forward with his fists on the tabletop.

  "Your tavern reflects your soul," he said in distaste, "and both offend me. I don't find this so amusing as Tycho does. I'll leave with pleasure. Perhaps I understand now why you were exiled from the Great Empire."

  Ong scowled and said, "Or perhaps you do not. Are all the sons of Kuang so rude?"

  Li's breath hissed between his teeth and his hand reached for the sword he hadn't worn. Tycho jumped up.

  "Whoa! Easy!" he said, hands held between the two Shou. "Easy, both of you. This is-"

  "Oh, be quiet!" Ong snapped. He jerked his head toward the door. "That is the way out. Go, take this ill-bred dog with you, and never foul my presence with your flatulent singing again!"

  Tycho stopped and turned slowly to glare at Ong, meeting him harsh gaze for harsh gaze.

  "If my singing is flatulent, then I guess no one will listen when I break wind with a new song." He gave Ong a thin smile. "What do you think, Li?" he asked over his shoulder. "The Water Spirit's Lie?"

  "For a song," said Li, "it smells very good."

  For a moment, Ong regarded them with narrow eyes, then rose slowly from his seat. His massive chest rose and fell with deep, slow breaths.

  "If you will not leave on your own," he growled, "maybe you will leave if I take you outside myself!"

  "Outside?" Tycho spread his arms. "
If you want to try something, O great guardian of the oasis, try it right here."

  "It's bad enough when customers break up my tavern," Ong grumbled as he stepped around the table and walked to the door flap, holding it aside for them. "I don't want to do it myself."

  Li passed though stiffly, as if the tavernkeeper were invisible, but Tycho spat at Ong's feet as he passed. Outside, the night air of the steppe was cool and still. On the other side of the oasis, the caravan lay silent, the shapes of carts, beasts, and sleeping men indistinct in the moonlight. Nearer to hand the yurts of the Tuigan settled into similar silence as the women of the oasis finally took to their beds. A few paces from the pavilion, Li turned and dropped into a disciplined fighting stance, his hands up and open. Tycho, however, stripped off his strilling and loosened the sleeves of his shirt, stalking back and forth and swearing angrily under his breath.

  "Are you sure you're ready for this, you lying barrel of lard?" he called.

  Ong let the door flap fall closed behind him and turned around.

  "Why," he asked, "would you assume I was lying?"

  He took a step forward. The foot that left the ground was human. The foot that came down was not.

  "Blessed Lliira," gasped Tycho.

  "Mother of dogs!" cursed Li.

  Toes twice as long as Tycho's fingers, each with a membrane of webbing stretched between them and tipped with a thick claw, dug into the hard ground. The creature's hind and forelegs were short, like a crocodile's, but its body was long and sinuous. It reared back on a whiplike tail, and a neck almost as long and thin arched against the night. Scales glittered blue-green on the creature's back, glossy yellow on its belly-a belly as unmistakably fat as Ong's.

  Do you think that familiarity, Ong had asked Ibakha, will protect you from a dragon's wrath?

  In a streamlined, wedge-shaped head that carried pearl-white horns and thick whiskers of red and gold, Ong's angry eyes stared down at them.

  "Perhaps," he said in a deep, rolling voice, "you don't understand as much as you think you do."

  His fat chest swelled with breath.

  The rushing sound of air struck terror through Tycho like a cold sword. With a yelp of fear, he hurled himself to the side-and straight into Li. They slammed into the ground together. Tycho managed to twist around just in time to see massive jaws gape wide. Fire? Ice? Poison? He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the agony of the dragon's breath.

  Except that instead of agony, the dragon's breath enveloped him in gentle coolness. He opened his eyes to thick mist and heavy drops of water falling on him. He touched his cheek.

  "Rain?" he breathed.

  Li's hand clapped over his mouth. Tycho could just make out his friend's face as he scanned the gray darkness overhead.

  Somewhere above, something moved. Tycho caught a brief glimpse of a long body writhing through the air-Ong had no wings, but he flew like a snake crawling along the ground-then it was gone, vanished in the mist.

  "Honored ancestors watch over us," groaned Li, releasing Tycho.

  Tycho wiped water from his eyes. The rain was beginning to come down harder.

  "He flies without wings, he breathes rain clouds," the bard choked. "What kind of dragon does that?"

  "A chiang lung a dragon of the east, guardian of rivers," said Li. He kept his gaze on the darkness overhead, one hand raised to shield his eyes from the rain. "Ong really is a water spirit, Tycho!"

  "He didn't look very spiritlike to me!"

  "Lung dragons aren't like the dragons of Faerun. They're mandarins of the Celestial Bureaucracy. They hold posts assigned by the lords of the spirit world."

  "He's a bureaucrat?" Tycho hissed

  "An angry bureaucrat who could kill us with a swipe!" Li snapped. He scanned this mist. "Where is he? What's he doing?"

  From somewhere across the oasis, muffled shouts penetrated the mist-the travelers from the caravan, though it sounded like they were shouting more in wonder at the rain than in fear at a dragon soaring through the night. Ong was hiding in his own rain clouds, Tycho realized. The caravan couldn't see him. He and Li were the only ones who knew what danger they were in.

  "He's toying with us!" Tycho cursed. "Li, we have to get to the caravan! There's enough of us together to make a stand!"

  He whirled around, groping along the muddy ground for his abandoned strilling.

  His fingers closed on wet wood just as Li shouted, "Down!"

  From the corner of his eye, Tycho saw mist billow as a long shape came rushing down from the sky. He didn't wait to see more, but just threw himself flat in the mud. The wind of Ong's passage howled cold along his back and the lash of the dragon's tale caught him, sending him tumbling across the crowd like a toy. He ended up on his back, gasping for air.

  Ong was climbing again, gaining height before making another pass. Rage and terror lurched in his belly but Tycho sang out desperately, hurling a discordant note after the vanishing dragon. Magical sound, strong enough to knock a man off his feet, blasted through the clouds and rain. Ong just laughed, a deep chuckle of grim amusement. The clouds opened and rain poured down in heavy curtains. Tycho's guts churned. His magic wasn't enough even to shake the dragon!

  The noise of the spell had, however, brought cries of alarm from the unseen caravan. At least they knew something was wrong. Tycho half-staggered, half-slid along the wet ground to Li. The Shou was as muddy as he was.

  "The caravan!" Tycho shouted at him over the sound of the rain. "Which way?"

  "Here!" Tycho called as he swung around. Human shapes loomed in the darkness. He bit back a yelp of surprise.

  "What have you done, Faroon?" snarled Chotaris voice.

  A hooded lantern slid open. Its light turned the shadowy clouds to glowing mist, but Tycho could see Chaka, Ibakha, and all the other Tuigan women as well. Many of them were clutching knives.

  "Close the lantern before he sees the light!" he urged frantically. "It's Ong-he's a dragon!"

  "Of course he is!" spat Ibakha.

  "Hold your tongue!" Chotan screeched. Tycho blinked and Li stared, but Ibakha stood tall and proud. Beside her, a wrinkled old woman rolled her eyes. Chotan glared at the old woman. "Khui!"

  Khui gave her a suffering look.

  "Enough jealousy, Chotan!" she said as calmly as if they were standing around a campfire. "We all have to move aside eventually."

  The old woman's Shou was flawless, better than Chotan's or Chaka's. Tycho's mouth fell open.

  "Y-you…" he sputtered. The women of the oasis turned to stare at him. "But…"

  "You truly understand nothing, Tycho Arisaenn."

  The night air stirred and a wind blew down from above. It pushed aside the rain clouds, clearing an eye of calm before the pavilion though mist still cloaked the rest of the oasis. Tycho and Li stared up as Ong eased his bulk down to float protectively over the women, moonlight and lanternlight combining to flash over his scaly hide.

  "You stand on the threshold of the east but still think that you are in the west," Ong continued. "This is no longer Faerun!"

  Li made a strangled noise in his throat. Ong's head dipped down until it swayed level with the Shou's.

  "And you, son of Kuang. You presume to judge me?" he snarled. His head thrust forward. Tycho could smell his breath-it carried the wet scent of mud, mist, and green leaves. "I have spoken no lies tonight! I am an exile, three hundred years condemned to the westernmost post of the Celestial Bureaucracy by powers greater than you can imagine. Once I was the spirit of a mighty river. Now I am guardian of a sluggish pond, my reach bound by an oasis!"

  Tycho swallowed.

  "Well," he said weakly, struggling to force back his terror, "I guess that would explain why you've gotten as a fat as a lord."

  Ong reared back and roared at the sky, the sound of his voice like thunder rolling across the oasis. Out of the silence that followed, new sounds rose: terrified bleats and bellows of frightened animals, shouts of fear and panic from the caravan.
/>   "Ong!" warned Khui. "They'll know you're here!"

  Ibakha gasped. Even Chotan looked worried.

  The dragon's jaws ground together.

  "Three hundred years," he snarled at Tycho and Li through clenched teeth. "Three hundred years of hiding like a beast, unable to reveal myself. The love of my Tuigan beauties sustains me. The tavern that you so despise, Kuang Li Chien, is my connection to the world. To lose either would be true condemnation. In jest or in truth, I will not let you take them from me!"

  Three hundred years of hiding, unable to reveal, myself.

  Ong's words fluttered like butterflies against Tycho's fear. That the dragon might be discovered had frightened the fearsome Tuigan women. Even at the height of his rage, Ong had hidden himself in clouds before turning against the men who had angered him.

  Tycho's eyes went wide even as Li spread his hands and said desperately, "Great one, neither of us will ever speak of this. By the honor of my ancestors, I swear it!"

  "My apologies to your ancestors," Ong growled back, "but I cannot take that chance."

  His jaws parted and he lunged forward.

  Tycho grabbed Li's shirt and jerked him back and through the door flap of the tavern as Ong's teeth snapped together like a hundred knives only a hand-span in front of them. They stumbled to the soiled carpets of the tavern floor, the door flap falling closed behind them. The fabric shook with Ong's anger. Li stared at it, his face pale. Tycho dragged him to his feet.

  "Li, he can't leave the oasis!"

  Li's eyes blinked, then focused on Tycho.

  "Whatever powers forced Ong into exile here won't let him leave the oasis," Tycho explained urgently. "That's why he's afraid of being discovered-caravans would avoid the oasis if they knew a dragon occupied it, and warriors would just keep coming after him until he was dead. I bet that's why the Tuigan have a taboo against magic in the oasis. Magic could ferret out Ong!"

  Li flung up his arm and cried, "Tycho, we're still stuck in a tent! A tent won't keep out a dragon!"