Samual

by Greg Curtis

  Far too quickly the entire great house was on fire. Four stories of stone mansion was alight, with flames shooting out of a hundred different windows. Those who hadn't been killed in the initial attack had fled for their lives, some of them on fire as they ran. But they had no hope of escaping. The drakes when they saw them running struck at the fleeing people, and caught them inside the courtyard as they ran for the gate. Scores fell to each blast of fire. Those as yet unburnt were left in a desperate situation as they could either take shelter in a burning building or run. Both options were deadly.

  And then things actually got worse as the drakes set fire to the long grass of the courtyard, creating an inferno that completely surrounded the great house. They could either stay where they were and burn, or run directly into the flames.

  But just to make sure that no one could escape the inferno the drakes began knocking down the walls surrounding the estate. Blasting them with fire before smashing into them with their steel bodies, and bringing the walls crashing to the ground as piles of rubble. Rubble that they set on fire, making sure that no one could clamber over them to safety.

  Soon there was no great house left. No courtyard. No walls. There was only fire. A huge inferno of it in the heart of the town of Bainbury. There were also no survivors, or very few anyway. Some had made it to the basement of the great house and were sheltering down there as the world above them burnt. But even though they were safe from the flames they knew they were in danger as the air burnt. They could well suffocate.

  And as they sheltered there, shaking with shock, fear and confusion, wondering what had happened and where the great steel beasts had come from, not a one of them suspected that they had been sent by the king. Not a one of them would have imagined that the former king was even now sitting in his private sanctum, watching the entire battle on his magical window, and celebrating even as he planned the next house's demise.

  Mostly they just prayed that they would somehow survive the night.

  Chapter Thirty Five

  The Fallbrights were gone! Dead! Heri crowed to himself about that. In fact it brought a huge smile to his face as he sat in his sanctum and chewed on his trail bread. He had been celebrating all night long. In addition to destroying his enemies' home and killing all who resided within the drakes had taken out half of Bainbury as well. He hadn't asked or wanted that, but the steel drakes had been thorough and the town had burned. Still, though he hadn't asked for it, it could prove useful. If any Fallbrights survived their people would be angry with them. Raising an army would be that much harder for them because of it. They wouldn't be a threat for a long time to come.

  It had been a good night.

  Still, he guessed there were at least a dozen more noble houses that had to be destroyed, and next on his list was Griffin Dale. The self-styled principality was home to the Venti House, and while the Fallbrights might have been his most annoying rivals for the throne, the Ventis were the most powerful. In fact they'd held the throne until his father had assumed it from them after the attack that had nearly levelled the kingdom and killed the old king. The stupid old fool had actually led his soldiers onto the field of battle. He wouldn't do that twice! And while the Ventis had tolerated Eric Hanor – they'd had to when the people so openly supported him – Heri's rule had been far less tolerable to them. He wasn't quite sure why. He had reversed many of his father's decisions, allowing the noble houses to prosper once more. They should have been grateful. But instead they kept objecting to his rulings in Court, all but openly defying him. And with six large towns – three of them cities in all but name – they could raise a massive army. The Ventis house was the largest of any of the houses. And really, just the fact that they addressed their lord as “Prince” was an offence. Prince Venti had to die.

  “Troll blood!”

  Heri activated the window into the Dragon's cavern and the moment he spotted the Dragon at work, yelled at him. Once again he made him jump. It was good to see the troll blood jump. But he wasn't surprised by it. The Dragon wasn't physically the largest and most powerful of trolls. And trolls often ate one another when they weren't beating each other to death. He would not survive long among his own kind, and very likely the only way he had even made it to adulthood was by being quick on his feet.

  “Again?” The troll blood turned to him, his wrinkled face even more hideous than Heri remembered. “I did what you wanted.”

  “You did and it was a good start. But there are a lot of nobles in Fair Fields to be killed and your drakes are nearby.” He assumed they still were. It had taken them nearly a week to arrive in the kingdom. They weren't fast flyers. Certainly not as fast as pigeons.

  “And when they're gone you can take the throne?”

  “There is no throne left. No king, no throne, no city.” Heri responded instantly with the answer he had always known he needed. Because he could never afford for the Dragon to know who he was. But even as he said it he was thinking that the troll blood was quicker mentally than others. He was not just a troll. But then he wouldn't be. He was a wizard. And he was already trying to work out who his new master was.

  “Let's just say that I have reasons for wanting the entire Court dead. You destroy the houses and I'll take care of the rest.”

  “And is that it?” The Dragon looked upset as well as angry. He sounded it too. But he knew he didn't have a choice – for the moment.

  “For Fair Fields yes. But there are some elves that need killing too.”

  “I'm not going to war with the elves!” The Dragon responded instantly.

  But was he a little too quick? Heri thought he might be. There might even have been a touch of alarm in the troll blood's voice. Even his wrinkles betrayed a trace of panic.

  “Is there a problem with the elves?” Heri asked casually. But inside he wasn't casual at all. He was thinking that if there was a weakness there he needed to know about it. Because at some stage he was going to have to kill the troll blood. Or get someone else to do it. Maybe the elves could handle that for him.

  “They are not my enemy.”

  That was a lie Heri knew. The Dragon was no master of the deceptive arts. That required intelligence. “You destroyed Shavarra.”

  “We have reached an understanding.”

  Another lie! Heri knew he was on to something. The Dragon was frightened of the elves. And that could surely only mean that he had reason. That he'd had his nose somehow bloodied by them. It was time he decided to start spying a little more on the elves. But for the moment he didn't need to push it.

  “Alright then. You destroy the nobles of Fair Fields and I'll destroy the elves.”

  The Dragon didn't answer him, but Heri saw his eyes widen as he heard him say he'd destroy the elves. Partly in surprise, but partly he suspected in hope. The troll blood wanted them dead. But it was beyond him. And there Heri had his weapon. He would use the elves to kill the Dragon. The Dragon to kill the nobles. And in the ruin of both lands he would retake the throne. And maybe he would even take Shavarra too. There was little of it left and no one guarding it after all.

  “Who next?”

  “The Venti Family of Griffin Dale. They once threw me in a dungeon when I was very young. They claimed I was an enemy wizard. I think it's time they burnt for that crime, don't you?” He lied to the Dragon about his motives, wanting him to have no clue who he was. He doubted the troll blood had any idea at all he was being lied to. He really was a simple creature.

  “Where?”

  “Griffin Dale. The town of Griffin Hold. And you should know they have cannon. Your beasts should attack at night, unseen.”

  Heri gave him the rest of his instructions – they weren't really that complex – and then cut the connection. After that he collapsed back into the heavy leather embrace of the chair and celebrated with a little more watered down wine. He had a point of attack to use with the Dragon. And he had the Dragon's services until then. It was now only a matter of working out how best to use them.r />
  Destroy the noble houses. Kill the Dragon. Take the throne. Get this accursed geas lifted from him. And finally kill his brother. At last things were starting to come together.

  Chapter Thirty Six

  Winter had loosened its grip on the land and the difficult weather of spring was taking hold. And while spring wasn't always the easiest of seasons Ry for her part was glad of its arrival. The storms, wind and rain weren't always the most pleasant but the cold of winter spent in a wagon was worse. She didn't want to spend a second one in it – though the chances were that she would. But at least they would be better prepared for it. More rugs, warmer clothes. More food and more firewood. Their new Shavarra was coming along well and with it the gardens and farms. Of course there was always a chance she would be with child by then, and she didn't want to give birth in a wagon if she could avoid it. But that might not be a choice either. Building a city for nearly three hundred thousand people took time.

  At present they had homes for maybe twenty thousand, and they were the families with the most and/or the youngest children. The ones in most need of shelter. They hadn't even started building the shrine to the Goddess. The people cried out for it. They needed a place to go to worship. She did too. But even that had to wait. The priests and priestesses had to work from a small grove they were busy planting in their free time, as they wandered among the people bestowing the favours of the Goddess. It wasn't a choice for them either.

  As for the elders, it would be years before there was a Fiore Elle. And until then they would have to meet in the little clearing where they had decided it would one day be built as they decided the matters of the day. They had no choice in that.

  And it seemed that keeping the elders away was not to be a choice for her and her family in turn. Not when her husband was the Fire Angel. They simply had to live with them. Not that she minded Elder Bela. He was actually a warm and friendly man once you got past his gruff exterior, and his wife was fun to talk to. In fact she rather liked Ellise. But there was so much formality in dealing with the elders. And though they didn't want it and refused most of the trappings of hospitality, they were respected elders and it had to be done. Ry would not shame her family by being less than respectful to any elder.

  So the table was always set out for Elder Bela when he came and he was given blankets and cushions. The tea was the best they had as was the food they served him. And they always addressed him respectfully. It didn't matter what he wanted. He was an elder.

  It would have helped if Samual was with her when he visited. Most of the Elder's words were for him anyway and she and the rest of her family could make themselves scarce while they spoke. But Samual had been called away by War Master Wyldred only a few moments before, leaving Elder Bela sitting there all alone and needing to be attended to.

  Her father was speaking with the Elder about the state of the wagons in their new home as they prepared for the coming summer, something Elder Bela probably didn't know a lot about or want to. But he listened politely, regardless. Meanwhile her mother was preparing some food for the Elder and she was serving him tea. But really, they were all just waiting for Samual to return.

  “Elder Bela.”

  A man's voice came from behind her, causing Ry to jump a little. She hadn't known anyone was there. And it was somewhat rude to creep up on people. But when she turned to see who it was, it was to discover that things weren't as she'd expected. There was no man standing there behind her. Instead there was a window. Or rather, it was the only thing she could describe it as. A window hanging in the middle of the air with no wooden frame and no wall to support it. And through that window she could see a man sitting in a darkened room, his face concealed in shadow.

  But she thought she knew him regardless. There was something about the voice that she recognised. And that something she didn't like. He was human too. He was speaking trade, not Elvish as everyone here did.

  “I am. And you would be?” Elder Bela responded easily, as if this was something that happened every day.

  Maybe it did. He was a wizard after all. But it was shocking to Ryshal and her parents who had never seen anything like it before.

  “Someone who has a little information you might want to hear.”

  And someone who had the tone of a meddler Ryshal thought. He sounded arrogant and somewhat amused. As if this whole thing was some sort of game. A jest he was playing. And she was becoming ever more certain she knew the jester.

  “Which would be?”

  “The location of the Dragon of course.” The man in the shadows laughed as if he had said something amusing. Or maybe he thought it amusing that he knew something that the Elder didn't.

  “You know where he can be found?” The Elder sounded interested but still calm, despite learning that this stranger could tell them what was surely the most important piece of information there could be.

  “Of course,” the man in shadows responded smugly.

  “Where?”

  “There is an island roughly a hundred and fifty leagues south east of Ragnar's Rock. It is a giant volcano in truth, with two smaller mountains on either side. They rise up out of the ocean and are known by sailors as the Three Sisters. The sailors avoid them because of the rocks and the frequent storms that assail the coast. There are also stories of terrible monsters that lurk on the island.”

  “However, if you arrive from the east and sail close to the coast, you will see that there is a hidden cove where scores of black sailed ships are moored. If you dock there, there is a path leading up into the volcano itself, and a great series of caverns inside it. That is where the Dragon creates his armies of machina.”

  “The Dragon himself is a troll blood, forced apart from the rest of his kind because of his small size. He would have been eaten early in life were it not for his magic. For decades he has been alone, building his armies in secret. Dreaming of the day when he can destroy the entire world.”

  “He believes that day is at hand. Or he did until your people handed him a stinging defeat at the Bronze Mountains. He still has plans on his tables of the attack and no thought as to how he could have lost the battle. Now he is busy rebuilding his armies, determined to become even stronger. Determined to crush you.”

  Determined to crush them? That filled Ryshal with fear. But it also sounded disturbingly accurate. The Dragon had come for them twice. Once at Shavarra where he'd destroyed their home. And once at the beginning of the Dead Creek Pass, where his steel drakes had been destroyed. She had no doubt he would want to try again. Especially after their victory at the Bronze Mountains.

  “And how would you know this? Unless perhaps you know the Dragon?” The Elder seemed unmoved by the thought of the Dragon coming for them again. In fact he calmly took a sip of his tea as if it was simply a normal meeting.

  “Is it not obvious?” The man in the shadows gestured in front of him, presumably at the magical window. “I am one of the unseen.”

  “No. I don't think so. There is no magic in you. Mischief, but no magic.” The Elder denied his claim almost casually despite the fact that he was speaking to them from a window hanging in the middle of the air. “So who are you? And how do you know what you claim?”

  “King Heri Hanor,” the man in the shadows began. Then he started. “Alder's hairy tits! Why did I say that?” He sounded frightened.

  “Because it is the truth and you want to tell the truth,” Elder Bela told him simply. “And that unless I am mistaken is a Window of Parsus. It requires no magic to operate. Just a few words. Please continue.”

  Heri! It was him Ryshal knew. She knew that superior tone only too well. And she knew a moment of pure hatred for him. For the dungeon he had thrown her in. For the way he had torn her from her husband's side. But for him she should already have children and a happy, growing family. Why wasn't he dead?! Yet she had to hold back her anger. Not only would it go against the Goddess' teachings, but it would also have served no purpose when he had information they neede
d. So Ry swallowed her fury while Heri's confession continued.

  “I tracked the Dragon down by following his ships with this window after the attack on Ragnor's Rock.”

  “And you have done more than just find him, haven't you?” The Elder accused him of more crimes. “What exactly have you done?”

  “Yes,” Heri grudgingly admitted the truth, and then started telling the Elder all that he had done. And every so often when he paused to take a breath he kept asking how it was that he could be telling Elder Bela everything. But the Elder started him speaking again with just a few words.

  That made Ryshal smile. The fool had contacted an elder with the magic of nature and thought to use him as a tool. But he had forgotten something so simple. If he could speak and be heard, the Elder could do the same. And a lot of his magic was in his words.