Though, truth be told, there were fewer of those than he would have thought. The shakes that Altans had been living with since the Magi began using the Eye had knocked down most dubious structures a year or more ago, and living with so many shakes had taught most Altans how to survive them.
But now that the officers and fighters had shaken off their brief paralysis of being without orders or a leader to give those orders, it was looking as though the Jousters were redundant here.
Which meant it was time for the wing to reunite.
As the army moved its rescue and evacuation efforts to Fourth Ring, and the other four finished their segments of Third, he rounded them up, and signaled them to land. “We’re done!” he called, and got nods of agreement from all four.
“Seventh Ring and Ari?” Huras called back, looking much more at ease than he had in—well, months. By this, Kiron deduced he’d found his family intact, and they were already making their way to safer ground.
“Have you—” he began, then hesitated. “Are your families—”
“Mine’s in a boat,” Huras replied, with satisfaction.
“What there is of my family should be across the causeway to Third Ring by now,” Pe-atep told him, and shrugged.
“Our city manor is deserted,” Oset-re said. “But it was shut up in an orderly fashion. I assume the family went to the estate in River Horse Nome, and the servants and slaves left behind have gotten out.”
“Right. Then Ari needs us. Time to go be the Great King’s wing.”
“Time to find those so-called advisers, you mean,” Aket-ten said grimly, as he signaled Avatre to take off.
True enough, he thought, but what will we do with them when we find them?
He did not doubt that they were with the Tian army. The Tian King would be leading his forces, and he would insist on his three closest advisers being with him. No King, whether he be Tian, Altan, or skin-wearing barbarian, left the leading of his army at such a decisive moment to his generals. Such a duty was part of being King, and unless the King was very old, or sick, or had a coregent to wear the War Crown for him, it was expected. Where the King went, the advisers went also.
We aren’t Thet priests, to defend ourselves against magic. . . .
Then, of course, there was an entirely separate issue in Ari meeting with the Tian King—the King who had personally given him the Gold of Honor, not once, but several times. Impossible that he would not recognize Ari. What he would do about it was anybody’s guess.
And then to find out—if he didn’t already know—that Ari was a hitherto-unacknowledged, and possibly unknown nephew. . . .
But that was not Kiron’s problem, it was Ari’s. Kiron’s problem was to get the rest of the wing to wherever Ari was—
Then he realized that would be easier than he thought.
“Aket-ten!” he shouted, as they moved south across the Fifth Canal (which was now dotted with boats). “Ask Re-eth-ke where the others are!”
He suspected that the dragons would have some innate sense of where the rest of their kind might be, especially if they were nestmates, and it seemed he was right. Aket-ten pointed, and they all changed direction in accordance with her guidance, as another shake made the water of the canal slosh in its basin.
So intent was he on assessing the damage to the rings below them that it wasn’t until they were crossing the Seventh Ring (wide enough that entire farming estates were set up there) and approaching the eighth and final canal, that he realized he should have known all along where the Tian army would be.
Because the Tian army was just starting across the only “bridge” that could accommodate them all, the so-called “Grand Causeway” of the Eighth Canal. It was huge, wide enough for forty men to march side by side. Of course, it had to be that big, after all, the Altan army had to use it to get out of Alta City. It was also the only way for a large force to cross the Eighth Canal without going hundreds of leagues north.
The advisers—and Kiron could see them, in three war chariots behind the King’s chariot—knew that this was a potential ambush point, and they knew that the Eye could reach this far. But there was no sign of the Altan army, and the advisers must be certain that on an overcast and rainy day like this one, the Eye could not be used.
There was no need to look for Ari, though. Planted right in the middle of the causeway, just before it connected with the land of the Seventh Ring, were Ari and Kashet. Lined up behind them, Orest and blue Wastet, Menet-ka and indigo Bethlan, Gan and green Khaleph, and Kalen on brown Se-atmen.
The Tians might have expected an ambush. They didn’t expect this.
The Tian King, mindful of the fact that the massive number of troops behind him took time to react to anything, had already slowed his chariot to a crawl as they approached Ari. Ari was wearing his blue War Crown rather than a Jousting helmet, and that would keep the Tian King from recognizing him until they got very close, but it couldn’t be long now. And just how did Ari intend to stop the Tian army with five Jousters?
This isn’t what I’d have done, Kiron thought, as he urged Avatre to more speed; Ari was going to need all of them to back him if he had any hope of pulling off a bluff. I’d have come in and plucked those advisers off their chariots and dropped them. Then I’d have gone into negotiation. . . .
But he wasn’t the Great King. Ari was. And Ari was the one making the decisions.
Then, some instinct, something caught out of the corner of his eye, or a distant rumble made him turn his gaze briefly back the way they had come. So he was the one who saw the thing that was going to render all of Ari’s plans null, the ripples in the land, like ocean waves, racing toward Eighth Canal and the causeway. . . .
He shouted in alarm, and pointed back at the on-rushing earthshake; the others looked, and stared, dumbfounded. Knowing that Ari couldn’t hear him, he shouted at the Jouster anyway. When that wave hit the causeway—
Perhaps Ari couldn’t hear him, but Kashet most certainly could sense something.
With a startled bark of alarm, and with no warning to his rider, Kashet launched himself into the air, followed shortly thereafter by the other four.
The Tian King and his advisers had just about enough time to register that there was something else wrong, when the shake-wave hit where they were standing.
For hundreds of years, this causeway had stood firm, proof against the worst that man or nature could throw at it. Today, it met something it could not stand firm against.
As Avatre threw up her head, snorting with alarm, the causeway disintegrated in an explosion of churning water, sand spouts, flying stones and brick, and thrashing horses. The last few soldiers just setting foot on the causeway had enough time to fling themselves backward to save themselves. The rest were flung into the water of the Eighth Canal. Whether or not they could swim was irrelevant; very little was going to survive being dropped into the midst of a collapsing causeway.
The Great Tian King and his advisers did not even have time to understand what was happening before they were gone.
EPILOGUE
ROUGHLY half of the Tian army was left after the causeway collapsed, but most of the senior officers of the army were gone, and the rest were having no luck in convincing the common foot soldiers that the collapse had been anything other than the hand of the gods raised against the Tians.
Ari was in no way discouraging this attitude. When he landed again, wearing the very Tian Blue War Crown, and declaring his lineage, most of the army was perfectly willing to declare for him, and the rest were perfectly willing to keep their mouths shut about their opinions.
Especially after the Altan army that had been lying in ambush closed in behind them. They were trapped between the canal and an overwhelming opposing force; they were leaderless and masterless, and to a man, they surrendered.
With ruthless efficiency, Ari set the Tian army to creating shelters for the evacuees from the rings. That last shake was the final shake, but Kiron didn’t know that for two days, becaus
e he had gotten an idea, and as soon as Ari was firmly in charge, he took the entire wing back to Sanctuary. But not to stay.
The dragons remained only for a good long night’s rest, and then came flying back—but this time, carrying double burdens.
Kaleth, in full priestly regalia, was up behind Kiron. Nofret flew on her own dragon, which was just old enough and strong enough to keep up—and she was begowned in mist linen and a small fortune in ancient jewelry, wearing something enough like the Iris Crown of the Great Queens as made no difference. The rest of them carried Tian senior priests, except for Aket-ten, who had the Eldest Winged One.
By this time, it looked as if the inevitable conflict between Tians and Altans was about ready to explode, though the presence of the Eldest Healer and her seniors, and several High Priests from major Altan temples was mitigating things so far as the Altans were concerned.
Kaleth dismounted first; the Tians probably had never seen a living Mouth of the Gods before, but there was no mistaking the aura that hung about him. He’d had that look from the moment that Kiron had come to get him and the Tian priests, but now it was so powerful that even those who were not particularly sensitive to such things were staring at him open-mouthed.
There was also no mistaking the fact that the most senior of all priests of Tia were deferring to him with profound humility.
The crowd cleared a path for them as they marched—with as much grace as middle-aged men and women who have just endured a long and somewhat uncomfortable trip can muster—toward Ari. Meanwhile Nofret landed on her own, putting her dragon down right beside Kashet, but remaining in her saddle.
As they reached Ari, Kiron was halfway expecting some sort of portentous announcement, a “Hail, Great King of Tia and Alta” sort of thing.
Instead, Kaleth paused for a beat or two, then with great deliberation, gave Ari the Bow of Equals, which the others echoed, and which Ari returned.
“We come at your summons, Great King,” Kaleth said simply. “How may we serve you?”
There it was; the implied blessing, not only of the gods of Alta, but of Tia as well. There was a stirring throughout the ranks as word of what had happened was passed from man to man.
At that point, Nofret dismounted from her dragon and joined him. He reached out to her, and the two stood side by side, a somewhat foreign sight to the Tians, but a comforting and familiar sight to the Altans.
Ari’s reply was equally simple.
“Help us build a kingdom from these two shattered lands,” he told them, more than loudly enough to be heard.
“Then, Great King, perhaps we could begin with a double crowning,” said the High Priest of Haras, and so, with a lack of pomp and ceremony that was somehow more impressive than all the chants and processions, all the clouds of incense and weighty speeches possible, it was done.
It was at that point that Kiron signaled to the rest of the wing, and with a lifted chin, suggested they take themselves elsewhere. Lord Khumun and Lord Ya-tiren would be coming in a more conventional fashion along with whatever others of rank wished to appear, and Ari and Nofret had the all the support they needed for right now.
They took themselves to a sand blow from which all the water had drained, and which had absorbed sunlight and was now satisfactorily, by draconic standards, hot. The dragons promptly made themselves wallows, and Kiron looked with longing at a patch of lush grass shaded by date palms nearby.
Gan yawned. “I could sleep for a week!” he exclaimed.
“Me, too,” Orest agreed, as Aket-ten and Kiron exchanged a glance and hastily looked away. But Orest—observant, for once—caught it.
“Oh, here,” he said gruffly, giving his sister a shove so that she stumbled and ended up in Kiron’s arms. “Stop mooning at each other. You thought you’d never see each other again, and now everything has turned out fine! Or—well, fine for us! Act like flesh-and-blood people for a change and do something about it!”
Kiron felt himself flushing and grinning at the same time. “I don’t know,” he said to Aket-ten. “Should we really give him the satisfaction of following his advice?”
“Yes,” she said decisively. “It’s the first time he’s ever given good advice on anything. We’d better take advantage of it while it lasts!”
She put her arms around him, and he held her while the others sauntered pointedly away. This was not going to be easy. In fact, they were going to have a long, hard slog to get to that attractive future Kaleth had promised. Two enemies were being united into a single people, and that alone was going to make for a thousand problems.
But for now, there was a little peace, and someone to savor it with.
“You’re right,” he said to the pair of merry brown eyes turned up to look into his. “We should. Good advice from your brother is too rare to squander.”
“Hmm,” she replied, and raised one eyebrow. “Shall we let this lot of sluggards loll about while we go take a flight?”
A flight—a flight where they were not hunting, not scouting, not doing anything but fly, together. As if responding to their very thoughts, Avatre and Re-eth-ke heaved up out of the sand wallow and came trotting over to them, making eager little noises.
“I think,” he replied, with his heart already soaring into that free, blue sky as he looked down into those eyes, “that would be perfect.”
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