It seemed an age before Garrett returned, beaming with delight at his own cleverness. From his bag he produced three pasties, still warm from the oven and only slightly squashed, and a loaf of bread.
“No ale?” Elestra said mischievously. “Or a glass of wine, at least.”
Garrett chuckled, but his mouth was too full to answer. When he’d swallowed, he said, “I’ve found our horses, but we’ll need to saddle them, and there will be wagoners and the like sleeping in the hay above the horses. It’s going to be difficult to do this without waking them.” His gaze fell on Elestra. “I suppose there’s no chance of persuading you to go home at this point?”
“Now that the Tre’annatha know I’m a wind-blower? I don’t think so,” she said. “I amnot being taken into the Program. Besides, I’ve never had so much fun in my life.”
“You call this fun?”
“Better than having nothing to do except needle my step-mother. Not that that wasn’t entertaining in its way, but this is so much more exciting. Anyway, I can help with the horses.”
“With wind?” Garrett said sceptically.
“Yes, with wind, Master Disbelieving. You’d be surprised what I can do.”
Garrett’s faced creased into a smile. “Nothing you do would surprise me, Mistress Remarkable.”
It was almost too dark to be sure, but Ruell thought she was blushing. He felt awkward, as if witnessing an intimate moment, although he’d not seen much sign of flirtation between them before. Perhaps Garrett’s eyes had lingered on her a little longer than necessary, but then he’d always had an eye for pretty women, and a certain charm, too. Ruell had always envied him that easy way of talking to them – friendly and interested, but not too pushy. Not like Mikah— Gods, he’d almost forgotten about Mikah. He hoped he and Gryke and Brannin were all right.
When they’d eaten, they waited until the inn quietened down before emerging from the shelter of the woods. The stables were in a stone-built block to one side of the inn, a rather ramshackle building with broken shutters and sagging roofs. Ivy covered more than half of the walls, and tiny gleaming eyes scuttling here and there suggested that the inn’s rodent-catchers were not doing their job.
They crouched behind a water trough some distance away.
“Can you use your ball to make sure anyone in the stable is asleep?” Elestra whispered.
“It’s difficult,” Garrett whispered back. “I can only activate it by speaking.”
“Well, we’ll just have to take it slowly,” she said. “I’ll open the stable door first, then you and I will go in and you can point out which horses you want. I’ll send them outside for Ruell to grab hold of. Then we’ll need to grab saddles and so on. That will be the most difficult part.”
She made it sound so straightforward, but Ruell didn’t quite see it. “How will you send them outside?” he said. “With wind? How does that work?”
“A puff of wind on a horse’s rump will get him moving,” she whispered. “Wind isn’t all about gales and storms, you know. It can be very subtle, too. Just watch, all right? And when the horses come out, lead them round the back, out of sight.”
They crept out of their hiding place and across the yard. Ruell’s own eyes struggled with the moonless dark, trying not to jump at every imagined shadow on the edge of his vision. But with dragon sight through Lokkasshi far above him, he could clearly make out the three of them creeping about, and could see that there was no one else around.
Outside the stable door they paused, but even before they’d stopped moving, the latch lifted seemingly by itself as Elestra gently moved air beneath it. The door creaked open a little way, leaving just enough of a gap for them to squeeze through. Garrett held up a hand, and they waited, but there was no sound from within, apart from a gentle snoring that continued without interruption, and outside, only the usual night sounds of leaves rustling and an owl hooting far away.
As quietly as they could, they crept into the stable. With only hand signals, Garrett pointed out the best-looking horses, and Elestra unlatched each stall door, then gently prodded the horses towards the door with invisible bursts of wind. The beasts looked a bit startled to be summoned at such an hour, but clearly whatever Elestra was doing was gentle enough not to alarm them. Ruell took hold of the animals’ halters and led them outside, relieved that they followed him without protest.
He waited round the back of the stable, while Garrett and Elestra manhandled saddles and bridles, and then got the horses ready to ride, while Ruell watched fearfully through Lokkasshi’s eyes for the slightest movement. But nothing stirred, either in the inn yard or on the road. Ruell wondered at himself, caught up in a scheme to steal horseflesh yet feeling not the slightest guilt. What was the penalty for horse thievery? Execution, he felt certain. Yet it had to be done, for the alternative was just as bad.
Then they were mounting up and riding as slowly as they dared, to keep the crack of hooves on the cobbles to a minimum, and turning onto the road. Only when they were some distance from the inn did Garrett give the signal to increase their pace and begin their flight to Drakk’alona.
At first they rode slowly, for the sky was still moonless, and the stars gave little light. Without dragon-sight, Ruell would have been almost blind. But there they were, his little friends, circling far above him, staying apart, giving him views of the road ahead and behind, the forest and farms, and beyond that the shimmering waters of the Straits of Ath’roon. And something else, further away, but quite distinct.
He pulled up his horse. At once, Garrett wheeled round and rode back to him. “What is it? Can you see something?”
He nodded. “A dragon…”
“One of yours?”
Another nod.
“Well, then, no problem?” He must have registered some expression on Ruell’s face for he went on, “Or is it?”
Ruell nodded again. “You remember Khanassha – the one who was always angry when he was in the egg? Well, he’s still angry, and he’s coming this way.”
“You’re a dragon caller, Ruell,” Garrett said. “You can deal with it.”
“Actually,” he said in a small voice, “I’m not sure that I can. Not this one. He’s not taking any notice of me at all, he’s boiling with rage and… and he’s almost here.”
“Oh, bugger,” Garrett said.
28: The Road To Drakk'alona (Ruell)
“How much time do we have?” Garrett said.
“He’s flying fast…” Ruell said, only half listening, for his head was full of dragon voices, their distress palpable.
“An hour? Less?”
“Um… a lot less.”
“Right. Let’s get under the trees. Can you use the other dragons to keep this one away?”
“I’m trying, but… it’s difficult for them. Khanassha’s a brother, they don’t want to attack him, but they want to protect me, too. They’re trying to persuade Khanassha to go back. He’s not taking any notice, though. Gods, Garrett, what am I to do?”
They had all dismounted, and Garrett and Elestra were leading the horses into the forest bordering the road.
“Take the horses as far into the woods as you can,” Garrett said urgently to Elestra. “If they panic, let them go, don’t try to hold them. Ruell, we’ll stay by the road. Better to be able to see the enemy. We know dragon fire can’t hurt us, and I’ve got the ball to protect us from claws and teeth. Other than that, we just have to trust to your friends to help us out here.”
Ruell nodded. Despite the warmth that lingered in the air, he shivered. Was this where it all came to grief? He’d been so sure of himself, absolutely certain that he could control all the dragons now. He was a dragon caller – wasn’t he? He didn’t know any more. He felt sick.
Garrett waited composedly beside him at the side of the road, his sword sheathed, for what use was a sword against a dragon, even a young one? In his hand he held the glass ball.
“Ball, protect Ruell. Protect Elestra. Protect me.” With
each name, the ball flared with golden light for a heartbeat, then faded. And when the last flare had diminished to nothing, the ball was just plain glass again. Had it worked? Would it protect them all, or was its magic only for Garrett? So much uncertainty. This was how soldiers felt, Ruell supposed, as they waited for a battle to begin, their lives compressed to a single moment in time, not knowing what they would find beyond it. Victory and joy, or anguished defeat? Life or death, or something in between, all health and vitality stolen away by one thrust of the enemy’s sword or pike?
And as they waited, Khanassha flew steadily closer and closer.
All Ruell’s dragons were aloft now, some circling in agitation high above, one large group flying out to meet Khanassha, wheeling around him, swooping, diving, claws out. They were fighting! Anger roiled through him, anger that one of their number, a hatchling brother, should dare to attack their precious Ruell.
And then they were there, filling the air with battle cries and flame and beating wings. He ducked instinctively as the group flew overhead, although they were well above him. Back and forth they went, Khanassha stabbing with claws and teeth at any dragon that dared to come too close, while they in their turn stabbed back, taking turns to move in for a close attack, then powering further away again. They weren’t hurting each other, it was all feints and quick dives, and the claws made no contact, but gradually, inexorably, they forced Khanassha lower and lower, until he had no choice but to land on the road not far from Ruell. That, of course, was their intention, to prevent Khanassha from attacking from the air, instead placing him where he was face to face with Ruell. They drew back, and Ruell’s mind cleared.
There they stood, man and dragon, facing each other under the starlight.
“Why are you here?” Ruell said.
“To kill you. You should have died the day we hatched, you abomination. Why did you not die?”
“I am a dragon caller. I order you to leave here.”
The dragon cackled with laughter.“You are no dragon caller, human! You cannot compel me. Come nearer so that I may kill you.”
The urge to obey was almost overwhelming. Ruell took two steps forward before he could find the strength to resist. He was vaguely aware of Garrett yelling at him, but his attention was all on the dragon, only visible as a dark outline and two glowing, swirling eyes fixed on him.
“Come nearer, human.”
Another two steps, then, with a supreme effort, he stopped again.“No. You obey me, Khanassha.”
“Nearer… nearer…”
Another step, and another… Ruell had no power to resist. The dragon sat up on its haunches, opened its mouth and then the world was on fire.
The flames lapped around him, a shimmering sea of golden waves drowning him. He closed his eyes and gave himself up to the warmth of it, feeling energy seep through him into his very bones. He held out his arms and laughed for sheer joy. Was there anything in the world better than this? There was so much power surrounding him, washing around him and through him, filling him with strength. He was a god! He could do anything he wanted, he could reach out with his hand and pluck the stars from the sky if he chose to.
Someone else was there, someone very surprised. Khanassha?
In some unfathomable way, Ruell knew what to do. He reached inside himself, to some part of him still aglow from the flames.“You will obey me.”
“Yes, Master.”
“You will bow to me.”
“Yes, Master.”And the swirling eyes lowered almost to the ground.
“I am a dragon caller, and you will always obey me.”
“Yes, Master.”The dragon’s mind was overflowing with contrition.“Pray forgive my mistakes, Master. I was ignorant.”
“I forgive you, but you are mine, now.”
“I am yours, Master. My life’s pleasure is to serve you.”
Ruell howled with joy.
~~~~~
“You’re very quiet,” Garrett said.
They were walking the horses for a while to rest them before the final push into Drakk’alona. On the horizon, the vast disc of the moon was just rising, bathing them in its soft light.
“Just thinking,” Ruell said.
“Want to share your thoughts? Or are they private dragon caller thoughts?”
Garrett’s eyes twinkled, but Ruell didn’t feel any lightness of spirit. He heaved a sigh. “I don’t really understand what happened back there.”
“Don’t you? Seems clear enough to me. The dragon blasted you, you started to glow, the dragon surrendered to you and you shrieked. Not that complicated, really.”
“Yes, but…” Ruell blew out a breath. “I felt…somethingwhen Khanassha flamed me, something deep inside me that stirred to life, like a… a kind offorce inside me, if that makes any sense. I knew how to use it – Idid use it – and Khanassha obeyed me. He had no choice, I compelled him. But…”
“But…?” Garrett said.
Ruell turned to him in despair. “It’sgone! Now I just feel normal, myself again, not a dragon caller at all.”
“Well, maybe it’s because you’ve stopped glowing,” Garrett said. “Or maybe you don’t alwaysneed this force thing, whatever it is. It may be some power that you can only call on when you need it.”
“This is too difficult,” Ruell said despondently. “We don’t really know anything about dragon callers, do we? It’s all guesswork and trying things out. So far, we’ve got away with it, but if…”
“If what?” Garrett said. Then, when Ruell hesitated, he went on, “Look, we have to have complete honesty, Ruell. Whatever obstacles lie in front of us, or behind us, for that matter, we’re better off if we’re prepared for them, as far as that’s possible. Know your enemy – first rule of battle.”
Ruell grinned. “There are a lot of first rules of battle, it seems to me.”
“That’s better,” said Elestra from behind them. “I was worried that your sense of humour had got caught in the cross-fire of all that masculine posturing.”
With a smile, Ruell said, “Sorry. I’ve been moping, haven’t I?”
“Just a bit,” she said. “I forgive you. That was an amazing display back there.”
“What, the masculine posturing, you mean?”
“Well, what else would you call it?” she said gaily.
“I’d call it a stand-off between a human and a dragon,” Garrett said. “And the human won.”
Ruell laughed. “I did, didn’t I? I faced an angry dragon, and made him bow to me.”
“That’s what dragon callers do,” Garrett said complacently. “I think the horses are rested enough now. Shall we ride again?”
Before long the forest fringing the road began to thin and they saw grazing animals tethered, and then strips of land under crops with scattered cottages, merging into small villages and larger fields fenced with woven willow. In front of them, the towers and flags of Drakk’alona emerged from the smoky haze that hung over the town. It was still early in the day, but even so a few industrious farmers were already at work, and wagons were moving on the road, taking advantage of the last days of brightmoon.
With the trees behind them, there was no way now to hide the dragons circling overhead, and no longer any attempt at secrecy. At Garrett’s instruction, Ruell called them closer, so they flew at treetop height above them like a cloud of giant gnats. The farmers ran for their cottages, and wagoners cowered in the roadside ditches in terror as they passed.
“Can you send some dragons ahead to scout out likely ships for us to commandeer?” Garrett said.
“What are we looking for?” Ruell said.
“Anything that looks ready to sail in the next hour or two, and fast enough to give us a chance to get away.”
“There are a couple that might— oh!”
Garrett reached for the bridle on Ruell’s horse, and slowed him to a stop. “What have you seen?”
“Soldiers! Masses of them, on the road ahead of us.”
“How far
away?”
“If we continue at this same pace, we’ll meet them in about half an hour.”
“Prepare the dragons,” Garrett said grimly. “They must attack ahead of us to clear the way. We will ride straight through. We mustn’t stop, not for any reason, understood?”
Ruell nodded.
“Elestra?”
“I understand.”
They jogged on at a steady speed, pacing the horses, since they would need to gallop at the end. The road was flat, so it wasn’t long before they saw the dust cloud away in the distance, and then glimpses of colours and gleaming metal. Eventually, the rhythmic tramp of boots was loud enough to be heard even above the sound of their own horses.
They rode on steadily, and the soldiers approached at the same unhurried pace, their pennants drooping in the still air, the bright moonlight catching the tips of spears and sword hilts and visors, setting them ablaze. Five captains led the troop on horseback, caparisons fluttering.
Nearer and nearer they came, and still Garrett kept the horses to a canter, not giving them their heads, while the dragons circled overhead, fizzing with excitement and waiting eagerly for the signal to attack.
Garrett waited until the first soldiers were no more than a hundred paces away, the empty road white between them. “Send them in, Ruell, but don’t injure anyone.”
Ruell didn’t have to speak directly to the dragons. They knew his thought the instant it appeared. Down they swooped, screeching in an unearthly cacophony, like a flock of multi-coloured gulls diving on a fishing boat. They wheeled about, one giant cloud of angry claws and flapping wings, yet never tangled with each other. The breath caught in Ruell’s throat as he watched them at work, his beautiful dragons – they were magnificent, and they were his to command.
The soldiers ducked, but held their ground. A few drew bows, but no arrow could harm those shimmering scales, as hard as iron. The captains’ horses shied and then bolted away into the fields. After that, the soldiers lasted no more than three heartbeats before they, too, turned and fled.
The Dragon Caller (Brightmoon Book 9) Page 26
