by Greg Curtis
All three of them; him, Heri and the Dragon had all just been pieces in some giant game, and had been moved around by players they couldn't see. But what else could you expect when the gods were getting involved? The only real question was who were the gods? Crodan? The Goddess? Draco? The All Father? Or all of them?
And of course there was another, perhaps even more important question. Were the gods finished with them?
Sam didn't know and he guessed he never would. That was the sort of thing the priests would argue over for years. A wise man, he decided, wouldn't concern himself with such matters. Whether the gods were involving themselves in the affairs of the world or not, a man still had to live his life as if it was his own.
And that began with his wife who abruptly appeared from out of nowhere to drag him off his horse, push him down in the long grass and start covering him with kisses. She was happy to see him he gathered. Impatient too since he hadn't even reached the city. The horse seemed a little confused though. Probably because she kept calling him her beautiful man. That was one thing he had never thought of himself as being.
“Ryshal.” He murmured her name a few times until she finally gave him a chance to speak. But not a chance to get up. She wasn't having that.
“Yes husband?” She smiled happily and returned to her kissing.
“Isn't this a bit open? I mean someone could see.” Not that he really cared. Normally he would. He hated to do anything that could cause embarrassment – especially to Ry. But she felt so good in his arms. Warm and soft and filled with life. And all he wanted to do was make love to her.
“No one will see and no one will care.” And then she proved how little she cared by starting work on the straps to his armour.
That was as much as Sam needed to hear and he grabbed her up, carried her to a quiet spot between a few trees a little distance from the track, and laid her down in the long grass as they both wanted. Soon after that they were eagerly renewing their wedding vows, while the light of the sun and the rainbows played over their naked bodies.
Afterwards both of them lay there for a time, enjoying the peace and each other, but saying little. For his part Sam was most curious about his wife's belly, and kept rubbing his hands over it, feeling the very slight bulge that he knew was the promise of their child to come, and wondering how it could finally be. It seemed so incredible after everything else.
But he also found himself wondering why it had taken so long. They had lost five years and those years should never have been lost. Yet this last year for all that it had been so hard on them all, had been wondrous. Maybe it all balanced out somehow. He didn't know.
Ry didn't think as he did though. She had forgotten the pain and hardship quickly and knew only the joy and the hope for the future. It was something he had always admired in her. And something he thought their child would find a blessing in his or her mother. She wasn't thinking of anything but their marriage and their child to come. Or probably he guessed, their children to come. She liked to think ahead.
“I suppose I should visit with the elders,” Sam said finally, remembering his duty. Still, he was loathe to leave.
“They don't really have time to see you beloved.” She laughed merrily. “They don't really have time for much lately.”
“Mmm?” He twirled a little of her hair in his hands, so very glad that he could. It was once more her rowell aylin. Her golden crown.
“It's been six weeks since you killed the Dragon.”
“I didn't kill him.” He corrected her without thinking even though he hated doing it. “Heri did?” And he still didn't understand that.
“You did defeat him though. And Heri's not going to be taking any praise for the act. Or any praise at all. In fact he's very unhappy at the moment.”
“He's – ?! … You've seen Heri?” Sam was surprised.
“Through the Window of Parsus. He's in the great temple of the All Father in the Fedowir Kingdom. He has been relegated to menial chores and is being regularly pelted with rotten fruit by those of Fair Fields who fled there. And a giant snap wolf watches over him, preventing him from running away. Your brother is a very unhappy man.”
“Good!” It might by churlish and less than noble but Sam was pleased by that. Besides, Heri should really have been put to death. Ryshal tittered happily into his chest which he assumed meant she agreed.
“The elders though are far more concerned with the rest. With the sylph who arrived here a couple of weeks ago. They are apparently upset because they have a phoenix problem.”
“A phoenix problem?” Sam raised an eyebrow in question.
“The phoenix has nested in the mountain above their city of Istantia in Racavor. They believe it's laid a clutch of eggs and soon they'll be overrun. Their flocks of sheep will be at risk. And they say it's our fault. They want compensation.”
“These would be the same sylph who refused to raise a finger to help when Fair Fields was threatened?” Sam wasn't particularly upset by the idea that they would lose a few sheep. Perhaps that showed.
“The elders have made that point themselves. Several times!” She laughed softly. “But the sylph still want access to the treasures from Heri's sanctum as payment for the trouble we have caused them. They are a difficult people.”
“That they are.” Sam agreed with her, though he would really have described them as arrogant.
“The priests have been difficult too.”
“Priests?” He wouldn't have thought of priests as difficult. Annoying sometimes and occasionally in the way. Actually they were mostly annoying and in the way. But by and large they didn't cause trouble.
“Both the priests of the All Father and Draco are requesting that they be permitted to build large temples within Shavarra. The priests of the Goddess say no. They can have shrines only. They say that this is the Goddess' land and we are her people. They say that the priests of the All Father and Draco have no place here. They are however considering allowing the priests of Phil the White to build a healing chapel. The elders have been hearing submissions on the matter every day.”
“I'm sure the matter will die down in time.” He wasn't actually though. It was just something reassuring to say when he didn't know what the future held. And really, Sam's thoughts were once more with Heri. His brother had saved his life and destroyed the Dragon! That still seemed impossible. But mostly he thought about what Heri had said afterwards. That he would make sure Sam's story was told. The last thing Sam wanted to be was a symbol or a witness for several faiths to fight over. Was he the witness to the All Father's victory over Crodan, the caller of Draco's Dragons or the Goddess' servant? Suddenly he wasn't so sure he wanted to visit with the elders. Not when three faiths might each want to claim him as theirs. Somehow he suspected he was going to be approached by all of them in time.
“And the rainbows?” Sam changed the subject, not wanting to dwell on matters he could do nothing about.
“Didn't I tell you? It's been six weeks since the Dragon was defeated. And for six long weeks we've been celebrating. The rainbows are created by one of the treasures from Heri's sanctum. And you're just lucky that you aren't close enough to hear the drum.”
“The drum?”
“Another ancient treasure. Whenever anyone beats it, everyone within hearing starts dancing for joy. You can't help yourself. It's like some madness that sweeps everyone up. And when it ends everyone's left exhausted. After six weeks of it people are beyond simply exhausted. In fact I think that may be one of the treasures the elders would be happy to give to the sylph!”
“It's good that the war has ended.” Sam tried to turn things back to the positive.
“Ended? It's more than that. The Dragon's dead. The war's over. The machina sit rusting in the streets and fields, never to move again. The trolls are mindless. Far less of a threat than they once were. And all of it is your doing. The bards spend endless hours in every inn and alehouse in every land, making up songs of the Fire Angel's heroic dee
ds and mighty victory.”
Sam groaned quietly. But he had always known that that was going to happen and there was nothing he could do about it.
“Best of all the people are starting to reclaim their homes. Returning to their abandoned cities, and starting to rebuild what they can. In fact for the last month we've been debating the same. Do we return to the original Shavarra or remain here in this new Shavarra in Golden River Flats?”
“Only yesterday the elders made the decision that we should go home. That the original city of Shavarra is our home and we will return to it. It will however be up to each person individually to decide whether to stay or go. But the elders will organise a caravan for those who want to return and the rest can continue to build this new city here. Most people I think want to go home though.
“Ever since the defeat of the Dragon the rainbows have been in the sky and that accursed drum has been playing. The city is filled with unconscious people and many more simply too exhausted to move. As I said no one will see us.”
“The whole city?” Somehow Sam couldn't quite believe that.
“That infernal drum is powerful beyond understanding. Most people have collapsed. Thousands are lying on the ground like drunks who've passed out across the entire city. The rest are probably doing the same in their homes. Or if they had any sense, they've run.” She laughed. “That damned drum comes from one of the underworlds! It belongs with the sylph!”
Sam laughed with her. He didn't really know anything about the drum or its power. And truthfully he didn't really care, save that he thought it might be fun to see some of the elders cavorting around under its influence. But one thing he did care about.
“And you and your family – our family – will we be returning to Shavarra?”
“We hope to. I hope to. It is our home, and I have not seen it in many years. I ache to return to it. If you're willing?” She asked the last carefully, as if fearing his answer.
“I will go anywhere with you. You know that. And I have – we have – a home near Torin Vale which I want you to see.” He took her hand and kissed it. “Besides, I have to return and replant a forest else the shadelings will come after my head.”
“As long as I don't have to ride a moose there! Or a roc! Or –,” he shuddered as the memory returned, “– in the mouth of a dragon!”
“Beloved, you know none of those things ever happened! When the tales are told you will have ridden on the back of a great dragon with a flaming sword in your hand. Or on the back of a phoenix as you raced into battle. The Fire Angel does not ride on a moose!” She laughed happily.
She was probably right Sam realised. He had read the tales of the previous Fire Angel – the real one – and he had guessed that they had been written by wine soaked bards more interested in a fine story than the truth. But it didn't matter anymore. The war was over and he was no longer the Fire Angel – if he ever had been. He was just a husband and in time a father. And that was a far greater thing to be.
It was a strange thing to realise, but everything he had been through was someone else's intent. He had started out on his journey as an angry man. And that anger had made him powerful. But that power had been a lie in a strange way. It had never been his, just something he had been loaned. And not so he could defeat the Dragon. Just so he could be the Fire Angel. And perhaps also so that the Goddess could have her creature returned to her. Now that the anger was gone and the power had been returned he had become just a normal man again. A man in love, and that was a far greater thing. It was a lesson neither his brother nor the Dragon had ever learned. And he guessed that no matter how many times he tried to tell that tale, it would never be heard. Instead the Fire Angel would have come and defeated the Dragon in glorious combat. Because that was the way that those who had arranged all this, wanted it told.
And he didn't care.
“Aylin mi elle we should go and start packing. I want you to be in our home well before our child is to be born.”
“It can wait a few hours husband.” She smiled cheekily up at him from the long grass. “You still have a little more riding to do!”
Sam smiled back at her as he reached for his wife. And he suddenly realised that he didn't care about anything else she had said. He only cared that he was with his wife and their family to come. He had finally returned home.
