“As we were sundered, so let us be joined,” Lady Dasslerond intoned.
“Not two peoples, but one,” replied Eltiraaz.
“Of differing bodies but like hearts,” said Dasslerond.
“Of common purpose and common goal.”
Lady Dasslerond began lifting her hand first, palm up, the emerald showing clearly. Eltiraaz did likewise, until their hands were above them, side by side. In the dark night, the gemstones began to shine—an inner glow, Juraviel realized, and not a reflection of the rising moon.
Lady Dasslerond brought the emerald straight over her head, and said, “A’bu’kin Dinoniel!” That was the name of Eltiraaz’s gem, of course, but when the wielder of the sister gem spoke the words, the emerald pulsed suddenly, sending a ring of green light out from its sides. The light drifted down, encircling Lady Dasslerond until it settled on the ground about her feet.
“Tel’ne’kin Dinoniel!” Eltiraaz cried, lifting the sapphire above his head, and a purple ring pulsed out from the gemstone, similarly drifting down to the Doc’alfar king’s feet.
Both began to repeat the phrases over and over, and more rings came forth, cascading down across their blurring forms. And then the two leaders began to turn circles, stepping out as they did so that the pattern of the ring elongated and crossed through each other now and again.
King Eltiraaz reached out to Lady Dasslerond, and she took his hand and allowed him to pull her in close, both still spinning and reciting the name of the other’s enchanted gemstone, and rings of purple and green cascaded down about both of them.
“A’bu’eh’tel’kin Dinoniel,” both said together, which referred to both at once as the gem of earth and air and mist, and the rings shifted, blending together, and instead of just falling to the ground, they seemed to come alive with the dance, rolling up and down the spinning pair.
Despite all the danger in the world, Belli’mar Juraviel could not feel anything but joy at that triumphant moment.
At his side, his pregnant Doc’alfar wife squeezed his hand.
Chapter 12
Surrounded by Allies?
BRYNN RAN HER HAND ALONG THE DEEP TRIO OF SCRATCHES TORN INTO THE WALL. She had asked Agradeleous to clearly mark the way back to his lair using a series of codes she and the dragon had devised, and so he had, with great claw marks showing at every fork and intersection. Some showed the correct path, others revealed the incorrect path, and Brynn knew the subtle differences in the dragon-claw signposts.
When she and the dragon had worked out the coding, it had been with hopes that she would never have to use them. The mere thought of Agradeleous elicited mixed feelings in the woman. On the one hand, the dragon had undeniably aided her in freeing To-gai; without him, she never would have been able to so frustrate the Behrenese in their own lands. In addition to his obvious battle prowess, Agradeleous had actually provided Brynn with a method of quickly moving her warriors up and down the cliff divide that separated To-gai from Behren. Also, the dragon’s great speed and tremendous strength had allowed Brynn to keep her force supplied while they were out in the hostile open desert.
Without Agradeleous, Brynn could never have won against the Behrenese, could never have forced a truce that brought freedom back to the To-gai-ru tribes and transformed the city of Dharyan into Dharyan-Dharielle, a place where the cultures could exchange goods and understanding. This city, Brynn believed, would serve as the bridge between the peoples and would shine as the hope that Behren and To-gai would live in peace as separate and complementary lands.
But the gains of the dragon had come with a price—a terrible price for Brynn Dharielle. To defeat the Behrenese, she had been forced to turn loose the power of the dragon, and that awful, indiscriminate might had shaken her to the fabric of her conscience. She had watched Agradeleous level settlements and turn avenues into walls of flame. She had heard the screams of the dying—she heard them still, echoing in her dreams. Brynn’s greatest fear was not that the Behrenese would conquer her people once more; it was that she would be forced to use Agradeleous again, to loose that terrible weapon once more.
All the way back here in the northern stretches of To-gai, with Pagonel by her side, Brynn had told herself and the mystic that she would rouse Agradeleous for scouting purposes, and perhaps to hold as a threat to keep Yatol Tohen Bardoh in check.
She truly wanted to believe that.
Every claw mark in the long tunnel had reminded her of the sheer strength of the dragon. Every claw mark had brought a shudder.
But she persevered, forcing away her own guilt and pointedly telling herself of the gain Agradeleous had brought. Her people were free; they were not only finding again the old ways of the To-gai-ru, but because of Dharyan-Dharielle, they were reaching further, examining the more modern world and allowing it to slip quietly into their rich culture. To-gai-ru children in Dharyan-Dharielle were even learning to read in the great new library Brynn had assembled from the remains of the formerly glorious Library of Pruda.
Coming to retrieve Agradeleous, however, brought her always back to the notion that those gains had not been realized without cost.
“You cannot raise an army sufficient to keep Yatol Bardoh from conquering Jacintha, should he move against that city,” Pagonel reminded her, as if sensing her doubts. “You would have to rouse all of To-gai. Would they heed such a call to go to the defense of Behren? And should you ask that of them?”
Brynn looked at him, standing quietly in the flickering torchlight. They had gone over this before, of course, when Pagonel and Pechter Dan Turk had arrived in Dharyan-Dharielle with the news of Bardoh’s mounting power. Setting the defenses of Dharyan-Dharielle in place, Brynn and the mystic had quickly raced off to the west and north, to the entrance of the Path of Starless Nights. She had left Tanalk Grenk, her trusted advisor, to see to the defense of the city and the rousing of the To-gai-ru riders, though she wasn’t sure yet what she might do with that army.
“I am confident that we can hold our city against Bardoh,” she replied, though that wasn’t really answering the mystic’s question, because she really had no answer to the mystic’s question.
“Your people have found freedom again, and nothing short of a complete and united Behrenese invasion will truly threaten that,” Pagonel agreed. “And I do not think that Yatol Bardoh will go against Dharyan-Dharielle at this time. And should he make that error, yes, all of To-gai will rise against him. He knows that. He has too much to lose, since his real prize lies in the east, along the coast.
“If you wish to go to the aid of Yatol Mado Wadon, as we implied in the truce, and as would obviously be to the longer-term benefit of your own people, you will need Agradeleous,” the mystic finished bluntly.
“Longer-term benefit?”
“You cannot deny that if Tohen Bardoh wins in Jacintha, he will soon enough turn his sights upon Dharyan-Dharielle.”
Brynn started to respond, to argue, but she bit back the retort. Pagonel was right. Of course he was right, and as much as she hated to admit it, the suffering that Agradeleous might soon bring to the land would pale beside the tragedy of allowing the wicked Tohen Bardoh to take control of Behren and unite the kingdom under his imperialistic designs.
The woman pressed on, telling herself determinedly that time was running short. For all she knew, the fight for Jacintha might already be on in full.
Later that same day, the pair heard the rhythmic rumbling sound of a sleeping dragon.
Soon after, they came out of the narrowing tunnel into a wider chamber stacked with coins and assorted items that glittered in the torchlight. It wasn’t the main chamber of the dragon, Brynn knew, for that one, where she had first encountered Agradeleous beside Juraviel and Cazzira, was much larger and much more treasure-filled. This area was barely large enough to admit the dragon. No other exits were apparent, though the chamber’s sheer walls climbed high and straight, and there seemed to be a ledge far overhead.
Brynn looked to her
companion, to see him studying the piles of glittering objects intently. Following his lead, she quickly figured out what had so caught his interest. There was little of real value here—even the coins were of silver or copper, mostly.
“Aha!” came a sudden roar above them, and then a sliding sound from the tunnel they had just exited, a portcullis or stone block, perhaps, told them that they had walked into a trap.
Instinctively, Brynn spun back toward the tunnel, to see that it was indeed blocked by a solid piece of stone. She swung back and drew out Flamedancer, her elven sword, setting its blade afire with but a thought to the ruby embedded in its hilt. Her eyes darted about, taking note that Pagonel was gone from sight, and then she looked up, taking note of the attacker.
“Agradeleous!” she called, even as the dragon’s great head came over the ledge, the long serpentine neck sweeping down at her.
The dragon stopped, his reptilian eyes going wide. He gave a snort, smoke rushing out the nostrils set on either side of his long snout. “Ah, little one!” he said, his tone suddenly changed. “For the second time, I mistook you for a thief!”
The dragon gave her the once-over, and Brynn, given the source of most of the armor she wore and the sword she carried, could only shrug.
“Yes, but that first time, you were a thief, weren’t you, little one?” Agradeleous said, and he gave a chuckling snort, which sent a burst of flame and smoke out his nostrils.
“I borrowed the items,” Brynn corrected, sliding the sword away. “For a lifetime—my lifetime!—and that is not so long a time to one such as Agradeleous.”
“Not so long indeed!” the dragon agreed. “And consider the items yours, gifts from Agradeleous to one who has given him so many fine tales and memories! Greetings again, little one! It does me good to see you here, but I am surprised that you chose to come alone.”
Brynn glanced all about.
“Not so alone, great wurm,” Pagonel said from the side, and the mystic stepped out of the shadows, and truly it seemed as if he was materializing out of nothingness. To Brynn and the dragon, who had come to understand the Jhesta Tu well, it was not so surprising.
“Ah, mystic, welcome!” Agradeleous boomed. “Do you like my trap? A dragon cannot be too careful, you understand, now that his lair is well-known. You humans number a fair portion of thieves among your lot.”
“And since all of your gains were honestly earned …” Pagonel dryly remarked.
“Code of dragons, mystic,” Agradeleous explained in a similar tone. “Eat the owner and keep everything on him that sparkles.”
Pagonel looked around. “You have been well nourished.”
“This?” the dragon asked skeptically. “This is but a trifling!” He lowered his head nearly to the ground. “Climb atop my head that I can take you to my true chambers, my friends.”
As soon as they were up in the larger chamber above the ledge, the dragon stepped back and began to reshape its form, bones cracking and breaking apart, shifting until Agradeleous wasn’t too much larger than the two humans, though he still projected a much larger and heavier aura.
“Come along and see the splendor of my gains,” the dragon said.
For Pagonel’s benefit, Brynn allowed Agradeleous to give them the grand tour through the several chambers stocked with the treasure of the ages, roomfuls of glittering gold coins and gems and jewels. Each room glittered with pieces of crafted armor and shining weapons, everything from the delicate and curving Chezhou-lei swords of wrapped metal to the heavier broadswords favored in Honce-the-Bear. Every so often, the dragon would stop near to one piece and recount the great battle in which he had won the trinket. And grand stories they were, of the world from a time long before Brynn and Pagonel had been born, before their parents’ parents’ parents and beyond had been born.
“You have come with a new tale, I hope,” the dragon said when at last the tour was ended.
Brynn looked to Pagonel. “A new tale, indeed,” she said, “and perhaps a new adventure.”
That widened the dragon’s eyes again, and as the surprise wore away, Agradeleous looked at Brynn curiously. “So soon, little one?” the dragon asked. “What trouble have you started this time?”
Though she had seen that same expression so many times over the last couple of years, Brynn could not help but smile when she noted the look on Pechter Dan Turk’s face when she introduced him to her new friend.
Pechter Dan Turk, of course, knew of the wurm—Brynn had been named “the Dragon of To-gai” for a reason, after all—but to come face-to-face with the great wurm just outside of Dharyan-Dharielle was something altogether different than seeing him from afar, or simply hearing tales about him.
“I have adjusted the saddle to carry three,” Brynn explained to the man.
Pechter Dan Turk’s eyes nearly fell out of their sockets, and he reflexively backed away, waving his hands in horror before him.
“You wished for help to save Jacintha,” Brynn scolded. “Here is your help.”
“We are to ride … that?”
“We came all the way from the northwestern corner of To-gai to Dharyan-Dharielle in a single day,” Pagonel put in. “The speed of Agradeleous alone will allow us to better determine our next moves, and will give us the power to communicate quickly with Yatol Wadon to coordinate our efforts against Yatol Bardoh.”
Whether the shaken man was even registering that claim was impossible to say, for Pechter Dan Turk stood there shaking his head and waving his arms, and saying “Agradeleous,” under his breath.
“Agradeleous?” he asked more firmly a moment later. “You mean that … that beast, has a name?”
Agradeleous narrowed his reptilian eyes and issued a low growl that reverberated like a small avalanche.
“In To-gai, we have many sayings that echo the wisdom of not insulting a dragon,” Brynn commented.
“I would guess that to be a common sentiment through all the lands of men,” Pagonel agreed. “And a common sentiment among all the races of creatures who are not yet gone from the world.”
“Can I eat him?” Agradeleous asked, and the poor emissary from Jacintha seemed as if he would melt where he stood.
“Enough of this,” Brynn demanded a moment later. She strode forward, past the lowered head of Agradeleous to the dragon’s shoulders, where she grabbed a leather strap. With a fluid movement, she pulled herself up into her riding position atop the beast’s great shoulders. “Come along,” she bade the other two. “The day is yet young. Let us go and see how far Tohen Bardoh has progressed.”
After practically pulling the reluctant and terrified Pechter Dan Turk into place in the third seat of the saddle, they set off at a great pace, Agradeleous sweeping past Dharyan-Dharielle, where half the people who noticed the wurm cowered and the other half cheered. Straight as an arrow’s flight, the dragon moved down the eastern road.
The very next day, the foursome came upon Dahdah Oasis, and to their surprise, there remained absolutely no sign of Yatol Bardoh’s forces, not even the renegade Jacintha legions that Pagonel and Pechter Dan Turk had encountered when they had first come out from Yatol Wadon’s city. Fearing the worst, Brynn prodded the dragon in close to the great Behrenese city that same night, settling him down under cover of darkness on the lower foothills to the north of Jacintha.
Pagonel and Pechter Dan Turk left immediately, but Brynn did not go, explaining that she and the dragon would continue to scout the region, and would rejoin them at the appointed place.
The mystic gave Brynn a knowing look and an approving smile before he departed. He understood indeed. Brynn would not accompany them and had taken that option away without discussion, because doing so would mean that she would have to let Agradeleous roam free while they were busy in Jacintha.
There were too many innocent people in the region for Brynn to allow that.
“The city is still in the hands of Yatol Mado Wadon,” Pagonel reported upon his return to Brynn and Agradeleous. The my
stic had not returned alone, and had even added a second representative, Paroud, to accompany him and Pechter Dan Turk. While Pagonel came in to explain to Brynn, Pechter Dan Turk stood on the edge of the small clearing, coaxing his obviously nervous companion to come forward, telling him that it was all right, that the dragon, the great Agradeleous, was a friend and no enemy.
Finally, the justifiably frightened Paroud moved forward, extending a series of low and ridiculously polite bows to Brynn and the dragon.
“The turmoil within Behren has settled then,” Brynn reasoned. “And we can send Agradeleous home.”
The dragon rumbled, seeming none too happy with that notion.
“The situation has only worsened,” Paroud blurted, finding his voice in a sudden and explosive burst. “Yatol Bardoh has joined ranks with Yatol Peridan of the Cosinnida region, my homeland, far to the south. He … they, threaten Yatol De Hamman, and once they have overrun him, there is nothing to stop their march to Jacintha!”
“That Yatol Peridan has willingly joined with Yatol Bardoh does not bode well for Yatol Wadon and Jacintha,” Pagonel agreed. “Their combined forces will prove considerable, I fear.”
Brynn stared hard at the mystic, silently asking him for guidance here. What was she to do? Could she go to Dharyan-Dharielle and round up a force to throw in with Mado Wadon and his struggles? How could she ask that of her people after the oppression the Behrenese had laid upon To-gai for more than a decade?
“We must not move prematurely,” Pagonel said to the two nervous emissaries, though in truth, he was quietly answering Brynn’s obvious concerns. “Go to your Yatol Wadon and ask of him what Brynn might do.”
“He has already told us of the aid he requires!” protested Paroud. “He needs soldiers, as many legions as To-gai can muster, and quickly!”
“You presume much,” Brynn said curtly, somewhat deflating the man. Something about Paroud wasn’t sitting well with her. The Behrenese had long been a tribal people, loyal first and foremost to their particular region within the greater kingdom. Paroud was from Cosinnida, obviously, yet here he was vehemently demanding help in defeating his ruling Yatol. Perhaps there was an undercurrent of ambition here, Brynn mused. Perhaps Paroud believed that Yatol Mado Wadon would move quickly in replacing Yatol Peridan with a more trusted man from Cosinnida.
DemonWars Saga Volume 2: Mortalis - Ascendance - Transcendence - Immortalis (The DemonWars Saga) Page 191
