“Brynn will bear witness,” Pagonel said grimly. “She must.”
Brynn yanked and spun, bringing her sword to bear, but it drooped as her jaw inevitably dropped.
“Juraviel,” she gasped. “Cazzira.”
And then she nearly fell over altogether as another familiar face, this one of a terrible foe, rose up between the pair. She knew that face, unmistakably, though when last she had looked upon the mighty dragon, that head had been ten times as large.
“Come, and be quick!” Juraviel cried out to her. “The Behrenese soldiers have your companions trapped!” He motioned for Brynn to move between him and Cazzira, while the dragon turned about.
“Right onto his shoulders,” the Doc’alfar instructed, and Brynn, after a single incredulous look, lifted one leg and then the other over Agradeleous’ strong shoulders, and with pushing from both elves, fell into a seated position atop the humanoid creature.
Almost immediately, Agradeleous began to change, began to grow, and though the dragon fell to all fours, Brynn did not slip lower toward the ground. Cazzira leaped atop the growing beast behind her.
In moments, Brynn Dharielle found herself astride a full-sized dragon, straddling its neck!
“How are we …” Brynn stammered. “What …”
“There is a time for chatter, and this is not it!” Juraviel explained from the ground, and he held Brynn’s bow aloft, then leaped up, his small wings bringing him to Cazzira’s side behind the still-stunned ranger. “Many soldiers have come against your friends, and without help they are surely doomed!”
“Die bravely and try to find a Chezhou-Lei to take with you to the afterlife!” Pagonel told his warriors as the ring of enemies, hundreds of skilled soldiers, closed in.
The Jacintha soldiers lifted their spears and swords and cried out to charge, but even as that communal howl began, it was drowned out by a single voice, as mighty a roar as the world of Corona had ever heard.
Agradeleous the dragon swooped past, a line of his fiery breath immolating the Behrenese line that was blocking the mystics from the stairs to their mountain home.
Brynn sat astride the neck, her own fiery sword held high, while Juraviel fired off his own bow behind her, taking down yet another surprised and horrified Jacintha soldier.
Any in the Behrenese line whose legs did not freeze in sheer terror beneath them, broke ranks and fled. Pagonel and Master Cheyes, not taking the moment to question the unexpected turn, gathered their warriors and collected up their wounded and rushed for the stairs. Pagonel and Master Cheyes fell behind the retreat, ready to do battle with any soldiers or Chezhou-Lei coming in pursuit.
But none were. The Behrenese fled before the wrath of the dragon, before the fiery glory that was mighty Agradeleous.
The dragon banked a steep turn and came in hard again, a second fiery blast melting down more soldiers. He caught yet another man in one powerful claw, lifting him from the ground and crushing the life from him, and swept aside several more with his crushing tail.
And so began the day of horrors for the fleeing Behrenese, pursued from on high by the mighty beast and his three riders.
Some soldiers got out of the area, but Agradeleous came in pursuit, and when the startled villagers that had been rounded up by the fierce Chezhou-Lei spotted the confusion and the dragon, they too cried out in terror and began to flee.
“Not the villagers!” Juraviel and Cazzira, and then Brynn cried out repeatedly to the dragon, and it seemed to Brynn as if it took the mighty beast a long while to turn away from the tempting sight of the fleeing mob.
“Fly over them, but bring no harm!” Juraviel instructed, and then he yelled to Brynn, “Tell them who you are! Tell them to take heart, for Brynn Dharielle, the Dragon of To-gai, has come to free them!”
Thus was the legend born.
After shouting her message of freedom to the escaping villagers Brynn directed the mighty dragon to settle near a brown-and-white figure she had seen from on high. She slid down and hurried to her pony, whom she had feared mortally wounded. As she inspected Runtly, though, she breathed a profound sigh of relief, for the stings of the Chezhou-Lei arrows were not serious.
“We are not done with our work,” Belli’mar Juraviel called to her, and she turned to see him and Cazzira standing beside an obviously anxious Agradeleous.
Brynn looked back to her pony. “I will come back to you soon and clean those wounds better,” she whispered to him. “You just run to the open fields and stay far from danger!”
As if he understood her every word, the pony nickered and galloped away, and it did Brynn’s heart good to see him run.
Much later on, after many, many Behrenese soldiers and Chezhou-Lei had been hunted down and killed, Agradeleous, bearing his three riders, pulled up before the bridge at the Walk of Clouds, hanging there for a moment with his great wings beating, as Brynn slipped down to stand before Masters Cheyes and Pagonel, with many others standing in the background, gawking.
Without any hesitation, and without a word from either of the remaining riders, Agradeleous turned and swooped down into the clouds, disappearing from view.
Pagonel started to say something to Brynn, but he just stopped and stood there helplessly, his arms out to the side. And what might be expected of him, after all, since he had just witnessed the arrival of three of the legendary—and, many would argue, imaginary—races of Corona, including the sheer size and power of a dragon!
“I was trained by the Touel’alfar,” Brynn stated at once. She held forth her beautiful sword. “And this is elvenmade, forged in the distant valley of Andur’blough Inninness, north of the great mountains. One of my companions is of the Touel’alfar, another is a cousin, a Doc’alfar, and the third … well, you have seen the third.”
“All in the region have seen the third, dear Brynn,” said Master Cheyes, managing a little smile. “Our gratitude is with you this day, for the treachery of the Chezhou-Lei would have brought even more tragedy to the Walk of Clouds had it not been for you and your … friends.”
“Nearly a score of my brethren are dead,” Pagonel added. “And many more are wounded, some badly. But all of us who went down to do honorable battle would have died this day, had it not been for the arrival of the dragon.”
“I count the Behrenese losses in the hundreds,” the woman replied. “Including nearly all of the Chezhou-Lei who came against you. It is a great victory.”
“Victory?” Master Cheyes echoed skeptically. “We do not view war of any kind as a victory, dear Brynn, but as a loss for all of mankind.”
Brynn steeled her jaw, not about to agree. “Yet war lies in my path, undoubtedly so,” she declared. “And I go with my heart full of hope that my homeland will be free once more. The arrival of the dragon, and of my other two friends, gives me the beginning I will need to drive the Behrenese from the steppes.”
“Beware the power of your dragon,” Master Cheyes gravely warned.
“More important than the companions are the reputation that they have allowed me this day,” Brynn explained, not wavering in the least. “All of the To-gai-ru who witnessed the flight of the Dragon of To-gai will whisper to their fellows, and so the news shall spread throughout the steppes, and so I shall find many, many warriors willing to rush to my side!”
“Many of whom will die,” the pacifistic Master Cheyes pointed out.
But again, Brynn was not to be deterred, not in the least. “Then so be it.”
Master Cheyes looked to Pagonel then. The other Jhesta Tu did not return the stare, but kept his eyes locked on the remarkable Brynn.
“My time here has come to an end,” the woman announced.
“This stay, perhaps,” said Pagonel. “The future may hold a day when you, and I, might return to the Walk of Clouds, to study together as we try to make sense of this existence.”
His words had Brynn’s jaw dropping open, and had Master Cheyes closing his eyes tightly, as if wanting to deny them.
“You will come with me?”
Pagonel nodded. “This is my course, I do not doubt, though neither do I understand. But if you and your friends will have me, then yes, I will stand beside you.”
“When I walk into Dharyan,” said Brynn.
When first I encountered Agradeleous in his cavern lair, I recognized, or thought I had, the power of the beast. The mere sight of the dragon froze me in my tracks, for a moment at least. I have seen volcanoes and mighty rivers, wild hailstorms on the open steppes, and heard—felt!—the thunder of a buffalo herd charging through the grasses. In all these things I am reminded of the sheer power of the world around us, dwarfing us in our hopes and dreams.
So it is with Agradeleous. He is a volcano, a flood, an earthquake, a catastrophe of the highest order, and unbelievably, his power has been given to me! That Juraviel even managed to make such a friend boggles my sensibilities.
With Agradeleous has come hope, so say the elves. Upon his back, I can fly the length of the steppes in but a day or two, gathering my armies, inspiring them with the knowledge that they will travel into combat against the hated Behrenese behind the power of a dragon. Is any outposter settlement too great a fortress for us now?
Is Dharyan? Is Jacintha itself?
But there is another side to the lucky coin that is Agradeleous the dragon. Is his a power truly leashed, truly under my control?
I have sought out my answers in Oracle, but have found nothing more than the reminder of my murdered parents. I feel their anger keenly, more at the loss of our old ways than at the particular injustices they suffered. At Oracle, I am convinced more than ever that the ancient traditions of the To-gai-ru must be returned to the steppes, that we cannot tolerate our subjugation to the Chezru Chieftain and his Yatols.
Still, I cannot dismiss this power I have been given, this awesome and awful responsibility. Agradeleous will heed to my commands, so said Belli’mar Juraviel. But in those terrible minutes after the ranks of Behrenese had broken, when the dragon went in pursuit with the three of us riding, I understood that Agradeleous truly follows only the commands of Agradeleous. How he blasted through the ranks of the fleeing Behrenese, with his fiery breath and his raking claws, his snapping maw and that crushing tail!
I fear what I might see if ever I allow Agradeleous to run loose against a Behrenese city. Will the dragon distinguish between soldier and civilian? Between man and child?
And so I have been given a choice, and it is one that surely tugs at my heart. With Agradeleous, I can take great strides toward my long-desired goal. Flying high across the To-gai sky atop the great beast, I can give my people a rallying point, using my own reputation as the “Dragon of To-gai” to give them hope and a focus. Who would not stand behind me?
And then I can watch the death and the misery of Agradeleous unleashed. I can turn my head and block my ears, but not my heart, to the screams of the innocents as the dragon fire immolates them. I can watch the outposter settlements burn, perhaps even the great cities of western Behren, burn.
Agradeleous is not invulnerable, by the words of Juraviel. An army prepared for the dragon might bring it down.
There is within me a small part that might hope for such a thing, after the To-gai-ru have rallied, after enough victories are secured so that the Behrenese will not return to our land. For what might Agradeleous do after the fighting is ended? When and if To-gai is free, what am I then to do with the dragon?
For his is a power, I fear, that, once unleashed, cannot be put back in its hole. It is possible that I will lead an army against Agradeleous if I somehow achieve victory over Behren, and that is not a prospect that I enjoy entertaining.
Like the Touel’alfar as a whole, Belli’mar Juraviel has brought me hope, but that hope lies along a path made even darker by the prospects of this new and magnificent weapon. Many times during our journey south did Belli’mar Juraviel warn me that to pursue my victory would mean steeling myself to the horrors of war.
Agradeleous merely accentuates that point.
I pray for strength.
—BRYNN DHARIELLE
Chapter 25
The Walkaway
KALIIT TIMIG SAT IN A DARKENED ROOM, ALONE WITH HIS THOUGHTS, HIS GUILT, as he had been for most days since the return of the few Chezhou-Lei who had survived the disaster at the Mountains of Fire, and the few dozen Jacintha soldiers who had escaped and who had not subsequently deserted in the wild southland.
All had spoken of a sudden turn in the battle, of the arrival of a dragon, ridden by a warrior woman wielding a flaming sword!
A dragon! Whoever had heard of such a thing? Certainly there were tales of such creatures, the great wurms of legend, but never had any dragon been known actually to take a side in a conflict!
It was all too much for Kaliit Timig to comprehend, or to accept. He was convinced that the beast had been a manifestation of Jhesta Tu magic; the mystics were known for such powers, though never as dramatically as this. The returning Chezhou-Lei had reported that none of the mystic line that had stood against them had shown any indications of any magic use, nor any gemstones, though the hated Jhesta Tu were known to possess a few of those, as well.
Perhaps their greatest wizards had remained high above the conflict, Kaliit Timig reasoned, combining their powers to create the beast, or the illusion of the beast.
Whatever the case, the disaster could not be denied. His vaunted order had been cut in half in one day, with scores of superbly trained warriors, the best in all of Behren, perhaps in all the world, cut down in that barren wasteland. That was his burden, and many times, the old Chezhou-Lei Kaliit had thought it more than he could possibly shoulder. How badly had he erred, how great a failure was his reign as the Kaliit of the elite and ancient order.
He heard the shake of the door chimes outside his chamber, but didn’t let it take him from his profound contemplations. He heard the door open, but wouldn’t open his eyes and thus, did not see the light filtering into the darkened room.
“Kaliit Timig,” came a call, a voice that he could not ignore, no matter how great his desire to be alone. He slowly opened his eyes and turned his head, to see the silhouette of a familiar figure standing in the doorway.
“God-Voice,” he welcomed.
“How many more weeks will you spend in here, Kaliit?” Chezru Chieftain Douan asked bluntly. “Hiding away while your order tries to find some way to recover from the catastrophe.”
“This disaster is unprecedented,” Timig answered softly. “I know not where to turn my attention now. I meditate for guidance.”
“You cower in the dark,” Douan accused, and behind the Chezru Chieftain there came a gasp, which Kaliit Timig knew to be the surprise of Merwan Ma, Douan’s ever-present attendant, who had so conveniently turned away from the army before the disaster.
“I seek to guide my order properly, and nothing more,” Timig answered with as much conviction as he could muster.
Chezru Douan laughed at him. “You would have led all of your order to complete destruction if I had not intervened and forced you to hold some of your warriors back. Where would the Chezhou-Lei be now if all of you had gone marching to your destruction in that forsaken land of rock and fire? And for what, Kaliit Timig? To avenge the death of a single Chezhou-Lei, killed in open and honest battle?”
The old Kaliit bowed his head again, having no resolve to fight back against the God-Voice. For indeed, the guilt was there, all about him, like the black wings of despair. There was no escape from it, not out there, trying to rebuild that which was lost, nor in here, hiding in the darkness from the truth.
“You know that many of the remaining Chezhou-Lei seek answers, of course,” Chezru Douan remarked offhandedly. “And many others vow revenge and hope that you will send them all off on a journey to the Mountains of Fire.”
That last bit brought Timig’s head swinging up again to stare at Douan. Perhaps that was the course. To avenge the dead by eliminating the wretched Jhesta Tu alt
ogether! “If you would lend me your army, I could turn defeat into a great victory,” he dared to say.
Again came that mocking laughter. “Victory?” Douan asked incredulously. “Victory over whom? The Jhesta Tu? But they are not enemies of mine, nor of Behren, unless they have begun a march of which I am not aware.”
“A Jhesta Tu mystic fought at Dharyan, against Yatol Grysh,” said Timig. “And that same mystic was back at the Walk of Clouds, engaging in battle, according to those who have returned. Surely that—”
“Means nothing to me,” Chezru Douan finished. “The Jhesta Tu are better left in their mountain home, unbothered and unbothering. I’ll not awaken the dragon, Kaliit Timig. That, I believe, is more your manner of leading.”
Timig squinted against the sting of those words.
“Perhaps I erred in sending my twenty-square behind your warriors,” Chezru Douan admitted, but he retracted the words immediately, for it would not do for one who spoke directly to Yatol to make such mistakes. “But then again, had I not sent the soldiers, then none of your Chezhou-Lei would have escaped, and common soldiers are far more easily replaced than are your elite warriors.
“And so it sits fully with you, Kaliit Timig,” Douan remarked. “I allowed you your folly, though it was against that which I knew to be true, because of your insistence that honor be upheld, whatever the cost. What is the honorable course for you now, I wonder? You have failed in your capacity, of that there can be no doubt. Do you believe that you should continue to lead the remaining Chezhou-Lei? Or are you too much a coward to take the only honorable course before you?”
Again came that gasp from behind him, Merwan Ma apparently as stunned by the heartless words as was the Kaliit.
Chezru Douan merely chuckled again and exited, slowly closing the door behind him.
Kaliit Timig sat there for a long while, the God-Voice’s words mingling with his own demons of guilt, all of it together taking his gaze inevitably toward the beautifully crafted curving sword that sat on a decorated stand at the side of the room.
DemonWars Saga Volume 2: Mortalis - Ascendance - Transcendence - Immortalis (The DemonWars Saga) Page 156
