The Dragon Caller (Brightmoon Book 9)

by Pauline M. Ross

  Garrett’s blood ran cold, knowing what it must be. Ruell was speaking the language of dragons.

  9: About Dragons (Ruell)

  Ruell woke full of energy, so entirely well that it was hard to remember the strange lethargy and cloudy head that had plagued him the day before. He was inclined to make light of all that had happened, and suffered his mother’s hand-wringing over him with increasing impatience.

  “I’m fine, don’t make such a fuss,” he murmured, as she pored over his head, poking and prodding for damage and puzzled when she found none.

  “What did they hit you with?” she said repeatedly.

  “I’ve told you, whoever it was that hit me was behind me, so I didn’t see a thing.”

  “But this woman must have seen what it was. Didn’t you ask her?”

  “Does it matter? I’m not hurt.”

  “But you went straight to bed last night.”

  “I was tired, that’s all, and I didn’t sleep much the night before. Strange bed. Mother, truly I’m fine.”

  “Well, it’s very odd, that’s all I can say,” she grumbled. “Hit over the head so hard that you were knocked out yet not even a cut or a bit of a bruise? Very odd.”

  Ruell cast a pleading glance at Garrett for help.

  “It wasn’t much of a blow to the head,” Garrett said. “He was knocked out with sleeping drops. They weren’t trying to hurt him, just keep him asleep for a few hours.”

  “But why?” she said, spreading her hands helplessly. “That makes no sense.”

  “Could be any number of reasons,” Kestimar said thoughtfully. “Maybe they just wanted to examine him. Maybe they wanted him kept out of the way for some reason, so they could do something without him finding out. But he was kept somewhere, unconscious, for several hours and that must have been intentional. I don’t think we have enough information to work out their purpose, though. Curse these stupid legs! If only I were fit, I’d go there myself and find these Tre’annatha and squeeze their fucking necks until they tell me everything.”

  His fists clenched and unclenched as he spoke, and Ruell didn’t doubt that he would do exactly as he said. Kestimar made him shiver sometimes, and, much as he admired the man in many ways, he also gave heartfelt thanks for Garrett’s interference that kept him confined to his chair.

  “Jonnor’s looking into it,” Garrett said.

  “Ha! Jonnor!” Kestimar spat. “That imbecile! What’s he good for? All he does is parade round in velvet and silk, and spend our money on marble and gold paint and expensive nonsense. He wants crystal chandeliers in all the stairwells now. Crystal! In the stairwells! Man’s a fucking idiot. Even worse than that one,” he added, with a jerk of his head towards Garrett.

  “Jonnor’s presenting a public image to impress our customers,” Tella said. “I like what he’s done. The entrance hall at Amontis House is quite magnificent now.”

  “The man’s a fop and a fool,” Kestimar said, his voice a growl of anger. “And expensive. Always taking people to fancy restaurants. The wine bill is ridiculous. Gods, if only I could walk! I’d sort him out.”

  “He seems to talk to everyone,” Garrett said in his mild way. “He gets a lot of information just by chatting over a meal. He’s not the cleverest man I’ve ever met, but he’s very personable, and people seem to like him. He’s good at what he does.”

  “They trust him, too,” Tella said. “I won’t hear anything against him, Kestimar. If Jonnor’s looking into this business with the Tre’annatha, then I’m sure we’ll hear something from him very soon. Although I can’t see what their interest is in Ruell.”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Kestimar said. “They want to get their hands on him because he’s a dragon caller.”

  “Of course,” she said, eyeing Ruell thoughtfully.

  But at the same time, Garrett said, “Two problems with that theory, Kestimar. Firstly, Ruell’snota dragon caller, and may never be since we haven’t the least idea how the thing is done. And secondly, the Tre’annathahad their hands on Ruell for several hours, and yet here he is, unharmed.”

  “Apparently unharmed,” Tella said. “We don’t know what they may have done—”

  “Yes, yes, but stop fussing,” Kestimar said. “What does that matter? We have him back now, safe and sound, so it’s obvious what has to happen next.”

  Ruell looked at him, heart sinking to his boots. He had a terrible feeling he knew what was coming.

  “If he’s a dragon caller, then he has to start calling these fucking dragons.”

  ~~~~~

  Ruell sat alone, high up in the wooden stand erected for watching the training court. Several people called up to him as they passed by – “You all right? Heard about yesterday… you’re not hurt?” – but he smiled and reassured them, and they waved and moved away.

  Below him, the clash of steel and the whirr of arrows mingled with the grunts of effort and the occasional cry of pain. At one end of the court, on a paved section specially laid for him, Kestimar sat watching, hurling loud abuse at whichever hapless warrior caught his eye. At the other end, as far from Kestimar as it was possible to be, Garrett was quietly instructing three youngsters, none of them above ten, in the basics of archery.

  The contrast between the two men could hardly be more marked, and Ruell wondered that he’d never noticed it before. When he’d thought Kestimar was his father, he’d overlooked the volatile temper and peremptory manner. Kestimar had been someone of importance once, a ruler, and used to instant obedience, as well as an expert swordsman, so it wasn’t surprising that he was brusque with those of lesser ability. And Garrett was just a street urchin who’d grown into a thief and a cheat and a womaniser, or so his reputation ran.

  But now, looking at the two with new eyes, he saw the fear that Kestimar instilled in everyone he dealt with, so that even the captains avoided him, and were submissive when a meeting was inevitable. And the men who trained under his critical eye were too terrified to learn, and stumbled and missed their shots and tripped over their own feet. Whereas Garrett’s quiet ways had even the children proudly hitting the target, and earning the praise of the archery captain.

  When his pupils moved on to bashing each other enthusiastically with short staffs, Garrett came to sit beside Ruell.

  “Not at your books today? I thought you’d be looking up how to call dragons.”

  Ruell shook his head. “I know all my books by heart, and there’s nothing relevant in them. They hardly even mention dragon callers. How am I supposed to do this if I haven’t the slightest idea how it works?”

  “Well, let’s see what we know,” Garrett said, shifting his sword to a more comfortable position, and leaning back against the seat in a great creaking of armoured leather. “You dream about these dragons, and end up inside their minds, even when they’re quite some distance away, so that makes it a mental power, right?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “You don’t have to physically touch the dragon, or even see it. The connection is in your mind. That’s how I see it, anyway.”

  “Right, I get that. Mental connection. How does that help?”

  “It means we don’t have to find a dragon to try this, so that’s good news, I’d say. Dragons are splendid creatures, but better at a distance, in my experience.”

  Ruell laughed. “Have you experienced many?”

  “A few, and none up close, thank all the Gods. Not inland, but on the southern coast you could see them flying far out to sea sometimes, and then we tried to sail right round Dragon’s Point…” His face changed as he spoke.

  “The dragons gave you trouble?” Ruell said sympathetically.

  “Not the dragons, no. The storms, mostly,” Garrett said with a laugh. “And Kestimar, but that was the same as always. We got round the southern point without too much bother and hardly saw a dragon at all, except high up and far away, but then we were shipwrecked, and spent the winter holed up in an abandoned dragon cave. At least, we hoped it was a
bandoned. That was so much fun, Tella, Kestimar and me, sharing a cave and no way to escape from each other. Or the dragons, if they turned up.”

  Ruell nodded. “I can imagine. Is that when you tried to kill Kestimar?”

  “Not quite. It was in the spring, when we got the ship – our last remaining ship – watertight again and set off north, we hit another storm, and ended up having a great argument on deck in the middle of the night, me and Tella and Kestimar. That was when I pitched him over the side, and at that point, I’ll tell you honestly, I didn’t care whether he lived or died. No, that’s not true. I really hoped he’d die and I could be rid of the evil buzzard once and for all. But as soon as the storm abated, Tella insisted we go back to look for him, and there he was screaming at us from the beach, right as a weevil and twice as mad. Not that I blamed him, actually. I’d be mad if someone did that to me. Anyway, I don’t know how it was, but after that there always seemed to be dragons about, quite close sometimes. They never bothered us, but it was unnerving, all the same. I struck out on my own soon after, so I don’t know what happened when you all settled here.”

  “I’ve heard people in the Bay say that they never saw a dragon round here until a few years ago.‘Until your queen arrived’, that’s what they say. And I dream of dragons.”

  He left the thought unspoken, but Garrett understood him. “You think it’s because of you? Your affinity with dragons?”

  “Mother’s said many times that I was conceived in that dragon cave, and after that you saw dragons regularly, so I wondered…”

  “I’ve wondered that too. And that would mean that they’re aware of you, in some way. Drawn to you, perhaps.”

  Ruell shivered. “Garrett, I don’t know what to do. Tell me what I ought to do.”

  Garrett gave him a rueful half smile. “You know I can’t do that. All I can do is lay out the options, as I see them.”

  “Oh… yes, please.”

  “Option number one is to do nothing. Just carry on as you always have, and… well, hope for the best.”

  “Hmm. With Famri and Darro sniffing round me? I mean, their interest must be because of the dragon thing, mustn’t it?”

  “I’d say so, yes,” Garrett said. “Yesterday was interesting, because Tre’annatha aren’t normally violent people. They tend to keep their heads below the parapet, manipulating from behind the scenes, getting other people to do their dirty work for them. So I’d say they must want something from you very badly to resort to bashing you on the head. Just not sure what it is.”

  “Right. So what else?”

  “Option number two is to leave here. Go somewhere where the dragons can’t reach you.”

  “And somewhere the Tre’annatha can’t reach me, too,” Ruell said.

  Garrett laughed at that. “Not sure there’s anywhere that’s out of reach of both. But your best bet would be Mesanthia. Deepest dragon-lore, going back thousands of years, and I have friends there who can protect you from the Tre’annatha.” But his voice was hesitant.

  “You don’t sound too sure about it.”

  “Mesanthia built anempire using dragon callers,” Garrett said sharply. “An empire! They still dream of those days of glory. Are they strong enough to resist the temptation? Going there and putting yourself in their hands would be a huge risk.”

  “So what other options are there?” Ruell said in a small voice. “Because I don’t much like those two.”

  “Option number three is to find out whether you really are a dragon caller. If you succeed, then you’d have dragon power at your command and no one could bash you over the head or use you.”

  “Try to call one? Don’t tell me you’re actually supporting Kestimar’s suggestion?”

  “I’ve never had any quarrel with his ideas, and if he’d stop telling me in graphic detail all the deeply unpleasant things he’d like to do to me, I’d get along with him just fine. It’s not a bad idea. Risky, but all your options are risky, it seems to me. If you’renot a dragon caller, then nothing will happen and you’re no worse off, and if you are—”

  “If I am?”

  “Then you’d have to learn how to control them pretty quickly. Would you like to try?”

  “But I don’t know how to.”

  “Why don’t we walk over to the cove where it’s quiet, and we can talk about that? I have one or two ideas.”

  They walked side by side away from the training court, through the forlorn remains of the gardens and up the hill. An archway, its gate long since vanished, allowed access to the open ground behind, where there were no paths, no desolate, long-abandoned flowerbeds, only the windblown grasses with a speckle of pale flowers, and here and there a scrubby, twisted bush. The ground was almost level but not quite, a gentle incline to a nearly flat summit and then, just as gently, the descent on the other side, the sea a glistening carpet in the distance. They walked almost to the western coast, within sight of the seaward watchtower, then turned aside for some distance.

  Eventually, they turned down a steep incline into a narrow bay with a shingle beach. With a conspiratorial grin, Garrett increased his pace, stopping at the water’s edge to pick up a handful of stones. One by one he skimmed them over the water.

  Ruell took his time, arriving as Garrett was bending down for more stones. Seeing Ruell, he straightened. “Not skimming today?”

  Ruell shook his head, tucking his hands under his armpits.

  “Ah.” It was almost a sigh. “Don’t tell me you’re too old for such games.”

  With a slight smile, Ruell shook his head. “No. Just… not in the mood today. You always beat me anyway.”

  Garrett let the stones fall from his fingers with a clatter. “Another time, maybe.”

  “Yes.” A long silence. “I should have worked out why it was always you who came here with me, and not Kestimar. I just assumed that he was too busy, tooimportantto play with a mere child. I thought you were just my bodyguard, that it was yourjob to be with me.”

  “That was a convenient story,” Garrett said.

  “I should have realised there was more to it, because you always seemed to enjoy it so much. More than a bodyguard would do, anyway.”

  “I did – Ido enjoy these sort of games,” Garrett said. “I was never able to play when I was a child, I was too busy trying not to starve, so being with you, watching you growing up, playing with you – it gave me the chance to have a proper childhood myself.”

  “Really? Skimming stones? It’s such a boring thing.”

  “Not to me,” Garrett said. “Still, if you want to be all serious and adult, let’s sit down over there and talk about dragons.”

  There was a rounded, sea-smoothed rock where they always sat to watch the waves or the gulls or, if they were lucky, the otters playing in the surf. Today the cove was deserted, with no living thing visible apart from the two of them.

  “It seems to me,” Garrett said thoughtfully, “that before you cancall dragons, you first have to be aware of them. In your mind, I mean.”

  Ruell frowned at him. “But how?”

  “Well, I don’t know. Do you ever have flashes when youknow there’s a dragon around? Any sign that you could connect with dragons?”

  “No, nothing like that.”

  “With the dreams, is there any indication before you go to sleep that you might dream that night?”

  “Like what?”

  “Don’t know… a headache, maybe? Or… or… I’ve no idea, Ruell, I’m just making wild guesses, here.”

  Ruell laughed. “Look, I’ve got records of the dreams going back years. If there’d been any connection to be found, I’d probably have noticed it by now.”

  Garrett’s face fell. “That’s true. I don’t know what we can do, then. We need to know more about it.”

  “These books at the library might help. The new ones that Darro found.”

  “If that’s even true,” Garrett said. “Maybe Famri just said that to get you to go with her.”

&
nbsp; Ruell sighed. “Maybe if I just let my mind wander, something will happen?”

  “Worth a try.”

  He closed his eyes, and tried to let his mind drift, but all he was aware of was the soft soughing of the breeze, and the plash of the waves followed by the gentle scrape of pebbles. Somewhere nearby, insects hummed and chirped, and further off the gulls cried. But there was no sign of a dragon, and after an hour he gave it up.

  10: Books (Garrett)

  On Garrett’s next visit to Sand Eagle Bay, he left Ruell on the island. There was no point risking the boy in another incident with the Tre’annatha.

  Jonnor had nothing to report on the matter. “No one saw anything, or heard anything, until the group arrived at Wendrall’s shop, carrying Ruell,” he said in disgust. “There’s nothing at all to contradict the idea that he was attacked by some passing thugs. The Tre’annatha woman has told everyone the same story: two men, Ruell was hit, she screamed, several people heard her screams and came to her aid. So plausible, and even if anyone was suspicious, what possible motive could she have for lying? I don’t see what we can do about it.”

  “Who were the people who came to her aid?”

  “She doesn’t know, she says. They drove off the thugs, helped with Ruell, fetched some people from the school and then vanished.”

  “How convenient. But hasn’t any one commented on the several missing hours?” Garrett said. “Ruell left the tavern before noon, and only arrived at the candle-maker’s late in the afternoon, so—”

  “What! But that’s…”

  “Exactly.”

  “But why?”

  Garrett shrugged. “No idea. That’s the oddest part of the whole thing, to my mind. The only reassuring thing is that they didn’t hurt him, not really. So they want him alive, and it must be related to what happened with the girl at the inn. Famri mentioned both dreams and the strange hissing language Ruell spoke, so they know a lot about him, and she talked a great deal about magic and restoring the mages to the world. Not that Ruell will help with that, but still…”