Return of the Exile l-3

by Mary H. Herbert

  The owl’s head swiveled toward the entrance. “The kestrel says Crucible needs you now.”

  Linsha grabbed Tancred’s hand and hauled him to his feet. “Come on, healer. I need your help.” She pulled him down the mound, and without looking back at the corpse of her enemy, her husband, her nemesis, she strode out of the cave.

  Down the slope in the valley at the foot of the volcano the battle thundered beneath a calm sky. Smoke towered above the burning woods and flames had begun to lick out across the grass of the meadow.

  Linsha ignored it all. The whole of her attention focused on the form of the bronze dragon. She could see the black lance, in obedience to its evil spells, had penetrated deeper into the dragon’s haunch. While it would not kill him immediately, if they didn’t remove it soon, the barb would eventually work its way through into his lower body and kill him. She ran down the hill to his head and caught his nose in both hands.

  “Crucible, I’m sorry. Lie still now, and we’ll get the barb out.”

  “You’re back,” he moaned, barely able to speak.

  “Of course,” she reassured him.

  “Lanther?”

  “Dead.”

  “The eggs?”

  “Eight hatched. The gods have returned, Crucible. They have restored their magic to our world. Takhisis is defeated.”

  “Good.” There was no mistaking the sound of triumph in that one word. He twisted his head around and looked at her with one golden eye. “We have come so far.”

  “We will go the rest of the way,” she replied. “Together.”

  Strengthened by her resolve, Linsha nodded to Tancred and indicated the lance that dangled from the dragon’s leg. “Take the dagger and cut out the barb. I will keep him still.” His eyes grew huge and she added, “Danian taught you well, Tancred. Remember his faith in you.”

  Linsha watched the young man study the length of the big bronze and the leg that trembled under the weight and agony of the Abyssal Lance, and she knew she need say no more.

  Still holding Crucible’s head, she knelt in the rocks and pushed his head down. She knew Tancred had begun work removing the barb when Crucible’s body stiffened and the breath rushed through the dragon’s throat. He held still, motionless as a statue beneath her touch. While she waited, she gathered the reserves of her magic-the magic to heal, the magic to unite her feelings, thoughts, and empathies with a dragon-and as soon as she heard Tancred yell, “Lady Linsha, it’s out!” she released the power through her fingers into Crucible’s mind and body and filled him with the strength to heal. She sensed lingering shreds of dark magic in his leg and realized this second wound from the Abyssal Lance would not be so easy to heal.

  She felt Crucible stir under her hands. His horned head lifted, his body rolled around to his belly. He leaped to his feet, and his scarred wings spread overhead to cast the two humans in shadow.

  Linsha saw the wound on his leg was only partially closed and the scales around it were blackened. But the lance was out and there were no splinters. For that she gave thanks.

  Crucible dipped his head to Tancred and nudged the young man. “Thank you,” he said. But to Linsha he send a silent message that held no words, only the glorious intensity of his feelings for her.

  Then he sprang into the sky and spread his wings on the wind.

  The Tarmaks had mounted a fearsome defense and almost overwhelmed the slightly larger Duntollik army when Crucible joined the fray. Healed by Danian and Linsha together, the bronze still ached from the half-healed wound caused by the lance, but his wings could carry him and his fury bore him swiftly over the field of battle. He smashed into the Tarmak lines, seared the mounted warriors on their horses, and sent the Tarmaks fleeing across the Plains. The few that were left were harried unmercifully by the Plainsmen and centaurs. Only a few determined Tarmaks returned to the Missing City to report their defeat and the death of the Akkad-Dar.

  The field was left a smoking ruin. The Plainsmen helped their wounded, stripped the Tarmak dead of the weapons that had not melted under the dragon’s breath, rounded up the surviving horses, and lit a bonfire to celebrate a victory that had been long in coming.

  Linsha returned to the satiated dragonlets in the cave and waited while they settled down. After a quick glance, she avoided looking at the mangled mess of shredded clothes, armor, and gore that had been the Akkad-Dar. When the last dragonlet had found a place in the sand and fallen asleep, she left them under Varia’s watchful eye and went to find Callista and Sir Hugh.

  The members of her party had been freed by some of Falaius’s men, so she and Callista went to help Tancred. The young healer needed all the willing hands he could get to help. Linsha worked late into the night before she said goodnight to Tancred and trekked up the hill to the cave entrance. She found the brasses still asleep, but this time they were crowded around the recumbent form of Crucible. Varia perched on one of his horns, her eyes closed, her brown body almost invisible in the dark cave. The remains of Lanther’s corpse were gone.

  The big bronze didn’t so much as twitch an eyelid when the Lady Knight came in. Grinning to herself, Linsha crawled over a baby dragon and found a comfortable spot by Crucible’s front leg. Happier than she had been in many years, Linsha joined the dragons in sleep.

  Thank you.

  A voice spoke quietly in the darkness, a soft but powerful voice that woke Linsha with a start. She blinked, still groggy with sleep, and saw a large form in the darkness. A pale light like silver moonlight emanated from its shape, outlining its edges just enough to reveal a dragon.

  “Iyesta?” Linsha said sleepily.

  Yes. The voice filled her mind. I had to come to say thank you.

  Linsha sat up against Crucible’s leg and looked down at the sleeping dragonlets. “I didn’t do very well. The Tarmaks killed many of them.”

  There are eight who will he grateful you honored your vow.

  “Thank you for trusting us.”

  Iyesta lowered her head. The young ones are in good hands. I must go now. The dark goddess no longer holds us.

  “Iyesta,” Linsha said. It was important to her to let Iyesta know. “I know who Crucible is now.”

  The dragon’s pale eyes glimmered. It will not he easy.

  “What won’t?” Linsha asked.

  The bonds between a human and dragons are worth the effort to forge them.

  Dragons, Linsha noted.

  Iyesta began to fade, her outline blurring into darkness.

  “Good-bye,” Linsha called. “And if you see a good-looking man named Ian Durne? Tell him I said good-bye.” And thank you, she added quietly to herself.

  Silence returned to the cave.

  24

  Farewells

  By the next day, the baby brasses could fly well enough to make circles around the volcano while Crucible watched. He reported to Linsha that the dragonlets were healthy, considering everything they had gone through during their interrupted incubation and early hatching but that they would need a little time to grow and gain strength before they could move anywhere. He could only wait to see if the magic used by the Tarmaks to speed up their embryonic development would have any affect on their growth.

  That same day Wanderer and Falaius gathered in the wounded and the scattered units and began making plans to return to Duntollik before winter set in. They knew there was little they could do to take the Missing City back. They had broken the back of the Tarmak army, with Crucible’s help, but the Brutes still held the city, and the winter was too miserable to allow for fighting. They had to regroup and plan a campaign for spring before the Tarmaks rebuilt their ships and came back in increasing numbers.

  Linsha spent her day caring for the wounded, playing with the dragonlets, and trying not to think about the future. The truth of the matter was she was exhausted in mind and body. She couldn’t think clearly, and she didn’t know what to do. Falaius, once he finished his effusive welcome to her, encouraged her to return to Duntollik wit
h them. However, she and Sir Hugh were the only Knights of Solamnia in the area. By their orders, they should be in the Missing City, perhaps working undercover against the Tarmaks. Linsha personally felt that if she never saw another Brute again, it would be too soon.

  Then there were the dragons to consider. Linsha knew she should talk to Crucible about his plans, but she dreaded what she thought he would say. She put off talking to him for several days until at last the Plains army was ready to march back to Duntollik. Falaius asked her again to join them, and Linsha knew she had to make a decision.

  She waited until the brasses were asleep in their cave before she asked Crucible to join her outside. For a long while she leaned back against him and stared silently at the two moons that hung like pearls in the sky, one silver and one red. Their new presence in the night sky still amazed her. For all of her thirty-four years there had only been one pallid moon, but now that the gods were back, the moons of Lunitari and Solinari had returned to grace the darkness. And, she knew from a dozen childhood tales, somewhere in the darkness between the stars, black Nuitari looked down on Ansalon.

  Finally, she told Crucible of the Legionnaire commander’s offer.

  “I don’t know what to do,” she confessed.

  The dragon did not hesitate. “Whatever you decide, I will come with you. I cannot bear to lose you again.”

  “I will die long before you do,” Linsha said. “And what about Sanction?”

  “I could die tomorrow,” he said, curling his neck around her. “I would be dead, if it weren’t for you. I will not hide that I want to go back to Sanction. It is my city and I want it back. I don’t know what is waiting for me there, but I want you to come. You and the brasses.”

  She threw up her hands, so tired she was close to tears. “I don’t know what I must do. I am still a Knight of Solamnia. I am bound to the Grand Master in Sancrist.”

  “Is it what you want?” he asked. “Is it enough?”

  “It was always what I wanted,” she replied. But she thought of Lord Bight/Crucible and the brasses who had bonded with her as surely as her own children, and her heart filled with doubt. “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  She agonized over her decision through the night, and discovered the next morning that the weather had given her a reprieve of sorts. A snowstorm moved in during the night and prevented anyone from leaving the area. The snow lasted for several days, then in the vagaries of autumn weather, promptly melted in a brief warm snap. By then Wanderer and Falaius knew it was time to go before the cold and the snow settled in for months.

  Linsha finally declined the offer to go to Duntollik, at least for now. She released Sir Hugh from any decision of hers and suggested he go. But Sir Hugh refused. He wanted to stay with his superior officer. As long as they were together, he argued, they were a circle, of sorts. His choice did not ease Linsha’s mind at all.

  Callista, however, did decide to go to Duntollik. “There is nothing left for me in the Missing City,” she told Linsha. “I’ve never been to Duntollik. Perhaps there I will find another profession.” And she smiled at Tancred.

  The next day, Linsha had to say good-bye to many friends. Some of the partings were pleasant; some were very difficult. Leonidas gave her a fierce hug and a dagger of centaur design he had carried from Duntollik. Callista wept and promised to come see her when she settled somewhere. Falaius made her an honorary Legionnaire and told her to join him any time. Tancred, his arm already healed, bowed low to her. She gave him her heartfelt gratitude for helping her heal Crucible.

  “It was an honor, my lady,” the young healer said. “I think we will both find our way.”

  Then the horns sounded, the horses stamped in anticipation, and the Duntollik army marched west for home.

  Two days later the decision was taken out of Linsha’s hands. On a cold, cloudy morning a silver dragon appeared above Flashfire and bugled a greeting to Crucible. The two Solamnic Knights and the eight brasses watched in amazement as the silver dipped and soared over the volcano and winged in to land in the level ground in front of the cave. The small brasses crowded around him. Varia hooted a welcome.

  “Chayne?” Linsha cried. “Is that you?”

  The young silver male dipped his head in a bow. He had once been one of Iyesta’s close comrades and had flown with her on the journey to see Thunder in his lair. He had disappeared the night of the storm and no one on the Plains of Dust had seen him since.

  “My apologies, Lady Linsha, for leaving at such a time. I was drawn away from Krynn with all the other silvers and golds and held prisoner until just recently. When we were released, we flew to Sanction and fought against the Dark Queen’s forces. I am only now returning to the Plains to learn what has happened. I also have a message for you.”

  Linsha, Hugh, and Crucible glanced at one another. “Do you know what has happened here?” Linsha asked.

  The silver ground his teeth. “I know some. I found Falaius and the Duntollik army just yesterday. They told me about Iyesta and the Brutes. They said you were here and could tell me much more. But first I want to tell you that when the Solamnic commanders heard I was going back to the Missing City, they asked me to tell Sir Morrec to return to Sancrist to report on events in the city. They are trying to contact all the Solamnic circles.”

  “Sir Morrec is dead,” Sir Hugh said without emotion. “Sir Remmik is dead. The entire circle is dead. Except for Lady Linsha and me.”

  Chayne nodded his shining head. “Yes, that is what Falaius said. So I guess I’d better take you both back.”

  “I don’t think-” Linsha started to say.

  The silver, eager to please, cut her off. “Oh, it is no problem. Someone should tell the Solamnics what is happening down here, and since I cannot return to the city right now, I will take you. We can fly there in a few days. Otherwise, it would take you months.”

  Linsha swallowed hard against the lump that suddenly blocked her throat. “Of course,” she said.

  “Perhaps we had better go now,” said the bronze dragon. “There is still plenty of daylight, and the dragonlets and I can get a good start.”

  Linsha and Hugh gathered what food they had and wrapped themselves in all the warm clothes and blankets they had been able to collect. Hugh climbed onto Chayne’s broad back while Linsha rode on Crucible with the owl nestled comfortably in front of her. Bouncing with excitement, the dragonlets gathered between the two adult dragons and bugled their readiness to begin.

  25

  A Sort of Homecoming

  The High Justice, the head of the Order of the Rose, leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “I want to be sure about this point, Lady Knight. You said the Akkad-Dar was a Dark Knight accepted by the Tarmaks. Would you say he acted in accordance with the orders of Takhisis or his own ambitions?”

  Linsha sighed and shared a glance with Varia, who sat silently on her shoulder. They had been over this before. Several times.

  The High Council, after hearing of her arrival at the great Castle uth Wistan, had convened to hear her testimony on the destruction of the circle in the Missing City. They had only given her a day to rest and eat a hot meal before they summoned her to the presence of the Grand Master, Sir Liam Ehrling, the three High Knights of the Orders, and a small troop of scribes. The last time she had been summoned to a council at the castle, it taken weeks for anyone to get around to it.

  For two hours she had talked, telling them the events of murder, trials, death, invasion, war, massacres, capture, battles, slavery, and escape. The only thing she left out was any mention of the text of the Amarrel and Afec’s prophecy. It was probably just the ravings of an old man, but he had given the book to her, and she wanted to translate it before she turned it over to anyone. She told the council about the ambush, her trial and sentencing, and Sir Remmik’s obsession with her guilt. She told them, too, about Crucible, Iyesta, and the brass dragon eggs. When she was finished and thought back over her choices and decisions, she de
cided there was little she would change.

  Then the questions began.

  “How was the ambush arranged?”

  “Who sat on the council at your trial in the Citadel?”

  “How was Lanther able to fool the Legion and the circle for so long?”

  “Why did you chose to accept Iyesta’s request to guard the eggs?”

  “Tell us about the leadership of the Plains tribes.”

  “What is your assessment of the Tarmak ability to rebuild their fleet?”

  And on and on for several more hours.

  She responded to the best of her ability and answered each question without overt emotion, as befitted a Rose Knight. The council seemed to react well to her honesty and treated her with respect and only mild suspicion.

  When at last they finished, the room fell quiet. The only sounds Linsha could hear were the crackle of the embers in the fireplace and the scratch of the scribes’ quills as they finished the last few words.

  Sir Liam finally stirred as if returning from a deep meditation and bent toward the other knights. They deliberated quietly among themselves.

  The room grew warmer. Linsha leaned her head back in her chair and felt her eyelids grow heavier and heavier. If the knights didn’t hurry and release her soon, she feared she would fall asleep. To keep awake, she looked around the elegant, wood-paneled council room and felt decidedly shabby. Her armor was gone, her hair was long and unkempt, her clothes were a mismatched collection of things donated from other people, and the only weapon she had left was a centaur dagger. She did, however, have three dragon scales and her honor.

  The High Knights sat up in their chairs and looked down at her from the dais.

  Sir Liam spoke for them all. “Your report is excellent, Lady Linsha. We had no idea of the full extent of the disaster in the Missing City or of the growing threat of the Tarmak empire. Sir Hugh’s testimony has corroborated most of your report concerning the circle and certain events of the war. However, there are parts of your tale that are… disturbing-your escape from the Citadel after the trial, your collusion with the Akkad-Dar, and most especially the killing of this… Malawaitha. These actions of yours are transgressions against the Measure, yet you have given extenuating circumstances that have painted these events in a different light. Unfortunately, there are no witnesses present to confirm or deny these exact circumstances-”