The Blind Dragon

by Peter Fane

  Lord Layne gasped in the straw.

  The dragon foal cooed.

  What's happening?

  Lord Layne groaned and managed to hiss, "My father will see your head on a spike, you old—."

  Master Khondus kicked Layne in the stomach, and he shut up.

  The foal tutted.

  Master Khondus put his scarred hand on Nightlove's side and took a deep breath. He seemed suddenly tired. The big dragon sighed at his touch.

  Anna suddenly remembered something Father had said to her many years ago: "Duty usually means obedience. But sometimes, duty can mean defiance."

  Anna nodded. "Truth and honor, Master Khondus, sir." She snapped her heels together and crossed her fist over the leather apron at her chest. "We serve you, the High Lady Abigail Dradón, and her rightful lord and liege, High King Bellános Dallanar, the true King of Remain."

  Nightlove growled. The foal stared at Anna for a moment, then hissed its agreement, reared up, and extended its white wings, as if showing them off.

  "I know what you want, girl." Master Khondus shook his head. "But it must be done. Walk him down to the last stall, away from her."

  The foal was right behind her now, its head leaning over her shoulder. Then it opened its wings and slowly fanned the air. Hay stirred. The lanterns' orange flames guttered. Without warning, it leapt to an oak perch that penetrated the birthing stall's far wall. Its rear claws had fully spired. They dug into the perch, the wood crunching and splintering. It cocked its head, eyes glowing, as if waiting for Anna to speak.

  "It's a pity," the Master said. "But it must be done. Bring him down. If he bonds any further with her, it could ruin her." He patted Nightlove's side. "We can't delay. These next days—these next hours—will determine the fate of our House."

  "You're all dead!" Lord Layne hissed from the straw. "My father—."

  Master Khondus kicked him again, much harder this time, in that soft spot right below the ribcage. The lordling coughed and doubled up, wheezing.

  "I will care for him, sir," Anna said calmly.

  She knew that it might sound childish. She knew she could lose her position. She knew that they had no time. But she also knew that her family owed this foal something. This was Voidbane's son. She would obey Master Khondus's orders, of course. But the very least she could do was try to convince him of another course.

  "I will find a place for him, sir. Until we find his rider. I'll clean him and mind him when I'm off duty, sir. I'll do the extra work. I will pay for his food and bedding out of my own purse, sir. I can take him home to our farm. Any offspring of Voidbane will be welcome there. I know my Mother will agree."

  "It's not your decision, girl," Master Khondus said gently. "Nor is it mine. Nature has chosen. We must honor that. He can't see. He can't fly. And he can't fight. He's strong, no doubt. Strangely so. But he cannot serve. Would you put your own momentary suffering before his lifetime in a cage? And what of Nightlove? Every moment they share now will make it twice as hard for her to continue. You know this."

  The Master's words sounded like wisdom. They were wise. But it didn't matter. She wouldn't do it. And, she realized quite suddenly, she wouldn't let the Master do it, either.

  She didn't know how, but this dragon foal would live.

  From its perch, the foal growled, as if reading her thoughts. Lord Layne coughed. There was blood on his lips. He tried to speak, but gasped and coughed wetly instead.

  "Forgive me, sir." Anna nodded calmly, but her mind raced. "I'm sorry, sir."

  Sometimes, duty can mean defiance.

  Was this what Father had meant?

  "You've done no wrong," Master Khondus said. "If you didn't feel this way, that would be cause for concern."

  Anna nodded with what she hoped seemed like agreement and looked at the straw. Her head spun.

  Think!

  But she felt paralyzed.

  And it was starting to make her mad.

  "Anna." The Master's voice was gentle. "Look at me."

  Anna did.

  Her face was hot.

  It cannot die!

  The foal hissed.

  Her brain whirled like a black pinwheel. And she could feel the anger coming on now, stronger than ever, hungry teeth glittering in that dark corner of her brain. Great Sisters, she hated the feeling, and yet sometimes . . . . She shook her head to clear it.

  "Anna."

  It was hard to look Master Khondus in the eye.

  The foal cooed.

  Easy.

  She looked at the foal. It seemed to look back at her—even though it couldn't see. Its silvery eyes glowed, as if looking into her heart. And, just like that, the dark pinwheel slowed. She took a deep breath. And it was gone. The foal gurgled. Everything would be alright.

  "I understand how you feel," Master Khondus continued. "When I was a dragon squire, I stood in the very place you stand now. This very stall, in fact. There's nothing harder. And nothing I say will make it easier. I can only tell you what my father told me. Sometimes, we're called upon to do things that must be done, whatever the cost. We must be the strong ones, Anna. The duty is ours, or it is no one's. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir. It doesn't feel like duty, sir."

  "I know," Master Khondus said. "Sometimes, that's what duty feels like."

  9

  "COME HERE," ANNA said.

  The dragon foal looked down from its perch, its eyes glowing in the dark. Then it dropped to the straw with a muscly grunt and gave Anna a gentle head-butt. She started to smile, then cut it off. The foal furled its wings and flopped backward into the straw, as if waiting for its chest and belly to be rubbed. But it had landed directly beside Lord Layne, who promptly squealed, coughed, and twisted away in terror. Upside down in the straw, the foal turned its huge eyes to Anna, fangs gleaming in what looked like a demented smile—as if Lord Layne's squeaks and yelps were the funniest noises it had ever heard. Which, considering his age, Anna supposed they were.

  "Walk him down to the last stall." Master Khondus cocked his head at Nightlove. He held the hammer in one hand. "I'll be there in a moment."

  "Yes, sir." She nodded.

  And when the Master arrived, Anna realized, she and the foal would be gone.

  But where?

  Anna could barely understand why she was thinking like this in the first place. All she knew was that she felt good when the foal was around. That when she looked into its eyes, there was no more room in her head for that dark, hungry rage. Would Mother understand? In one sense, yes. Mother loved Voidbane almost as much as Father had. She might appreciate Anna's regard for the dragon foal, but she'd never condone direct insubordination. But still, Anna just felt . . . better. Better than she had in three years.

  "Anna—." Master Khondus began.

  Anna nodded. Her mind was made up.

  We'll run.

  Outside in the hallway, iron-shod boots scraped the stone pavers.

  Anna and Master Khondus looked at each other, at Lord Layne, and at the stall door, almost in the same instant. Nightlove's sapphire eyes snapped open with a growl. The foal leapt back to its perch and stared down, eyes glowing. It sniffed once, hissed, and showed its fangs. Master Khondus changed his grip on the hammer so that it was ready to swing.

  "Get behind me," he said.

  Floren d'Rent, Guard Captain of House Tevéss, stepped into the birthing stall's doorway. He wore a jet-black beard that rode high on his cheekbones. His armored hand rested on the well-worn pommel of his broadsword. Behind d'Rent, five guardsmen wearing the dark maroon livery of House Tevéss stood at the ready. They wore short battleswords at their hips and round shields on their backs. Like d'Rent, they all wore steel breastplates. D'Rent also carried a firearm, an ancient revolver crafted of the finest high silver. The gun was slung beneath his left armpit in a leather shoulder rig, its grip worn with use. He was a big man, yet he moved with that weird smoothness taught in the Kingdom's best combat schools. A muscula
r night lynx. His dark eyes seemed to take everything in at once, flickering only a moment on Lord Layne, before settling on Master Khondus.

  "Take these traitors!" Layne choked. "Take them! Look what he did to me!" He tried to show d'Rent his bound hands. "He struck me! They were going to take me to—."

  "Shut up," d'Rent told him, not taking his eyes off Master Khondus.

  Anna saw the Master ready himself.

  "No need for further injuries, good Master." D'Rent smiled, seeing the Master's stance. D'Rent's teeth were very white against the black of his beard. His western accent was thick. He showed Master Khondus his palms. "We will go now together to Lord Gideon, yes? Put the hammer down."

  "Come take it," Master Khondus said quietly.

  Nightlove growled, grunted, and struggled to rise, but she was too weak and collapsed into the straw with a groan. The foal hissed, but uncertainly, its eyes wide.

  Be ready.

  The moment the thought entered her mind, the foal cocked its head and went perfectly still, as if preparing itself—as if it understood exactly what Anna was thinking. Its white tail hung straight down from its perch, a pale serpent against dark stone.

  "We both know that he is a fop and a fool," d'Rent said, cocking his head at Lord Layne, not taking his eyes off Master Khondus. "But his father cares for him. And he is a High Lord, after all. Lord Gideon will hear you fairly, Master. House Tevéss and House Dradón, we are friends, no? There is no reason for anyone else to be hurt. No reason for this to . . . how do you say? Escalate?" D'Rent pronounced each syllable of the word carefully.

  Master Khondus didn't answer, but his grip tightened on the hammer.

  "Take them, curse you!" Lord Layne cried, wiggling in the straw. "Take them! Kill them! I order it! By my father's name, I order it!"

  And then d'Rent's revolver was in his hand, and he was moving smoothly into the stall. He didn't act on Lord Layne's hysterical command. Rather, his move was calm and deliberate, the calculated action of a professional soldier ready for combat. His weapon was trained on Nightlove's head. Three of his guardsmen drew steel and followed him. The two others blocked the stall's door, standing just outside it, battleswords and shields at the ready.

  Anna had no weapon. But she could still punch and bite. From its perch, the dragon foal hissed. Anna set her jaw, her head clear. She wasn't angry. She was determined. It felt right. They were at war. This was the enemy. And she'd make House Dradón proud. Father had died in battle. Perhaps she would, too. She looked at Master Khondus's broad back. If she did, then she'd die fighting beside one of the Kingdom's greatest warriors.

  "We are strong," she whispered to herself. She could feel the foal's silvery eyes on her. "This is our time."

  Anna stepped out from behind Master Khondus, looked d'Rent straight in the eye, and said evenly, "Prepare to die, traitor."

  "See! You see!?" Layne screamed. "Why do you wait?!"

  One of d'Rent's guardsmen chuckled, ignoring Lord Layne completely. The other guardsmen seemed to relax a bit. But not d'Rent. He didn't smile. If anything, he seemed even more wary. His dark eyes were practiced and lethal. Behind her, Anna felt the dragon foal tense, its white presence a vibrating silver javelin in her mind, waiting to be launched.

  "Calm that thing," d'Rent said, feeling the foal's energy but not looking at it, keeping his revolver trained on Nightlove's head. "I will put one in its mother's brain. There is still time, Master. Come with us quietly?"

  "You fool!" Layne shrieked and kicked in the straw, rolling, coughing, trying to stand.

  The foal reared back, wings spread, took a huge breath—and burped a cloudy puff of silvery smoke.

  D'Rent's revolver swung up and locked onto one of the foal's eyes.

  "No!" Anna yelled and ran straight at the gun, waving her arms like a lunatic. "Me! Here! You coward! Me! Me!"

  And then she was staring into the black bore of d'Rent's weapon. She stopped in spite of herself and looked into death.

  Time slowed.

  Master Khondus grabbed Anna's shoulder and pulled her back just as d'Rent fired. The shot was impossibly loud. Anna's ears rang. Master Khondus grunted and staggered back. Something wet spattered Anna's cheek. But the Master was still moving forward, still brandishing the hammer. Nightlove bellowed. The stable shook. The big dragon tried to stand, collapsed. Layne squealed. On its perch, the foal rose to its full height, white wings wide against the darkness. D'Rent adjusted his aim and fired. The foal snapped its head back with preternatural speed, the bullet sparking off stone. D'Rent adjusted his aim once again and Anna dove straight at him crazily, arms wide and waving, doing anything to get in front of the gun. The foal took a deep breath, snout pointed at the ceiling. D'Rent knocked Anna back with a fast slap, aimed. But the foal was already dropping its head, fangs wide, wings spread. It blasted d'Rent with silver-white fire—neck craning, eyes clamped shut, flame roaring from its mouth. But d'Rent wasn't there. He'd already dropped to his side, rolling towards Lord Layne fast as a cat. The three guardsmen behind him weren't so lucky, however. They took the full force of the foal's discharge and were instantly burning, screaming, and running frantically into each other, swords dropping mindlessly to the straw. Not trained to war with dragons? Anna thought, a weird glee rising up in her mind. Her lip was bleeding. And she loved it. She reached for one of the guardsmen's swords. "Back." Master Khondus grabbed her by the collar and pulled her behind him, moving once more for d'Rent, hammer ready. The guard captain was up on one knee, his arm on fire, aiming at the foal, correctly assessing the most serious threat even as Master Khondus closed. Nightlove roared. The stable thundered. The two guardsmen at the door looked like they wanted to enter, but they dared not face the dragon foal's flame. Layne screamed. D'Rent fired. Again the foal seemed to anticipate the shot, its neck whipping sideways, the bullet punching through the membrane of its right wing even as it craned its head to the ceiling, taking another breath, its head coming down, mouth yawning wide. Master Khondus saw the foal's intent and threw himself sideways. For d'Rent, however, there was nowhere to hide. Beside him, Layne shrieked, legs churning in the straw. The foal blasted them both full on, plastering them back in the straw, silver-white flames funneling flesh from bone. D'Rent dropped his pistol, raised his hands as if to fend off the dragon fire, lips and beard crisping and melting, white teeth flashing in a molten skull. Layne squealed once and went silent. And still d'Rent's three guardsmen burned. Two were down, but the last one ran in place with tiny steps, his voice a kind of mad gibbering. One of the guardsmen outside dove into the room and knocked his comrade to the ground, trying to tamp out the flames. "Run!" he shouted to his mate outside the door. His partner made to turn, but Master Khondus rose on one knee and hurled the hammer, striking the turning guardsman on the back of the head, dropping him like a stone. The foal swelled on its perch, wings spread wide, took another huge breath, and hit d'Rent and Lord Layne one more time for good measure, the force of the blast knocking them across the floor smack into the far wall. Then the foal turned its attention to the two living Tevéss soldiers at the center of the stall, cocking its head, staring at them inquisitively. The Tevéss guardsman who'd come in from the doorway had managed to put out the fire on his friend. He now rose to his knees, his sword held uneasily before him. The foal's wings slowly fanned the air. Cinders swirled. The stench of scorched straw and charred flesh was everywhere. D'Rent and Layne burned amidst the blazing straw. Nightlove stretched, calmer now, savoring the heat and the smell of battle. Smoke billowed. The foal seemed to be waiting for something, its silvery-white eyes wide, staring at Anna.

  "Traitors!" the Tevéss guardsman finally shouted helplessly, his voice cracking. "Treachery!"

  "You are the traitor, soldier," Anna shouted, her mind roaring. "We know your plan. Understand?"

  The man stared at her. Clearly, he did not understand.

  "We know!" Anna pointed at him, her finger aimed like a thunderbolt. "We know!"

  The foal le
apt from its perch and landed with a grunt in front of the guardsman. The man screamed. The foal looked at him for half a moment, cocking its head. Then it casually bit the man's head from his shoulders, tossed it out the birthing stall's door, and started in on its dinner, gnawing on the man's spurting neck, oblivious to the burning straw around it.

  "And so die all who break their word!" Anna roared.

  "Anna," Master Khondus said gently.

  Anna blinked. A blood stain had appeared beneath Master Khondus's right armpit, but it wasn't large.

  "The fire, Anna," he said. "I'll lock the outer stable door."

  The foal looked up at her, as if awaiting a command.

  "No." She shook her head at it and took a deep breath. "You did well."

  The foal grunted and shoved its snout back into the bloody hole it had made at the top of the guardsman's corpse. It seemed to be eyeing d'Rent and Lord Layne hungrily, even as it feasted.

  "Anna," Master Khondus repeated, "the fire." Then he hurried out of the birthing stall, pausing a moment to finish the Tevéss guardsman he'd downed outside the door with a boot stomp to the throat.

  Anna blinked, and things came back into focus. In front of the door, everywhere on the far side of the stall, the straw was burning fiercely. Somehow, she hadn't really noticed it. Their enemies were dead and—despite the smoke and the flames—Anna felt like she could breathe for the first time in three years.

  10

  STAYING LOW, ANNA ran and pulled several woolen blankets from their shelf on the near wall, calmly laying the thick fabric over the fire. The smoke stung her eyes, but she was able to get the blaze under control. Master Khondus returned just as she'd finished tamping out the last of the flames.

  The Master set the hammer down, saw that the fire was entirely out, then opened the shutter of the stable's small window to let in some air. A large crow sat on the window sill. The Master shooed it away, came back, and took a knee beside Anna. He glanced at the feasting foal then inspected Anna's face and arms and torso.