Her eyes met those of her father’s, and it was with difficulty that Tahmu did not avert his gaze.
“Called them kulis,” Kevla said. “When I came into my powers, I was afraid and ashamed of them. It is only thanks to Jashemi-kha-Tahmu, the man who began this uniting of the clans, that I can now stand before you.” She paused, and Tahmu saw her swallow hard, saw the pain in her eyes; pain he knew matched his own. Perhaps even exceeded it.
“It is with deep grief that I tell you that Jashemi is dead. He gave his life in order that I might finally understand who and what I am—who and what the Lorekeepers are. He believed that our powers had surfaced at this time because Arukan is in great danger. Our enemies have long been one another, but that cannot be allowed to continue. We must stand together, stand strong, against the enemy that approaches from over the mountains.
“Some of you may have noticed that there are a few clans who are not represented here today. It’s not because they were afraid to come. It is because the armies of the Emperor have destroyed them. Those who did not die were taken and forced to serve beneath the standard of the ki-lyn. You know the flag I speak of, and yes, that strange creature has a name. There is a saying that we all know.”
She paused and turned to the Dragon, who was watching her attentively. Kevla smiled at him and stroked him affectionately. “‘When the Great Dragon rouses,’” she quoted, “‘None shall stand against his flame.’”
Tahmu could have sworn the creature winked. Kevla turned to face the crowd again.
“That saying is true. The Dragon has roused, and the armies of the Emperor shall not stand against his flame.”
“How do we know this is true?” came a frightened voice from the crowd. All heads turned to see who had spoken. It was a high-caste youth from the Sa’abah Clan. He was a little younger than Kevla and looked both defiant and frightened.
“Raka,” Melaan began.
“No! How do we know this isn’t all a lie? How do we know that she isn’t a kuli, casting some sort of spell on us to dream the dreams she wants?”
“You see before you the Great Dragon,” Kevla answered calmly. “Do you doubt the evidence of your own eyes?”
The boy lifted his chin defiantly, but Tahmu could see that he trembled.
“No one can subdue the Great Dragon. Maybe this is a spell, too. Maybe this isn’t the Great Dragon at all, but an illusion that—”
The Dragon’s serpentine head whipped around and he snorted, smoke erupting from his nostrils. Faster than Tahmu would have thought possible for so huge a creature, the Dragon moved toward the boy. It reached out a clawed foreleg, closed it around the terrified Raka, and lifted him high off the ground as it sat on its haunches. Raka was too frightened even to resist, and stared slack-jawed into the Great Dragon’s golden eyes.
“Do I look like an illusion, boy?”
Raka started crying. The Dragon rolled his eyes. He gently put the boy back down on the sand and gave him an absentminded pat. Raka’s legs gave way and he sat down hard on the sand. He was completely unharmed; the Dragon had obviously intended only to intimidate. Which, Tahmu mused as he looked at the faces around him, it had done very effectively.
“I can prove to you that what I say is true,” said Kevla quickly, hastening to the Dragon and laying a tempering hand on his foreleg. “Tonight, the khashim of each clan will select someone he trusts. We will fly over the mountain and I will show you the army that is coming.”
The Dragon turned to look at Kevla. He seemed displeased. “None but the Flame Dancer has ever sat upon my back,” he said in a warning voice.
“Dragon,” she said pleadingly, “you know as well as I what awaits these people. We cannot waste precious time convincing them that what we say is true. Please. As a favor to me.”
If Tahmu had not seen it, he would not have believed it. The Great Dragon’s harsh expression, for it had expressions as versatile as any human’s, softened with affection.
“I can deny you nothing, Flame Dancer,” he said. Turning back to the crowd, the Dragon bellowed, “Those of you who will sit upon my back tonight are honored beyond any men before. Burn this voyage into your memory, for your children’s children will tell the tale of this night and the battle that awaits.”
While they waited for nightfall, Kevla permitted herself to be amused by the homage the people paid their Great Dragon. Once they had gotten over the initial shock of seeing a creature out of legend in the flesh, many felt compelled to prostrate themselves at his feet. With a glint of laughter in his golden eyes, he respectfully listened to them, absolved them of any wrongdoings, real or imagined, and told them to listen to Kevla, for she was in charge now. They came with offerings of beautiful carvings and pots, water, and food, all of which the Dragon graciously refused.
“Your people need this more than I,” he said. “Your sacrifice is noted, but take it back now that I have witnessed it. Feed your people.”
When the last supplicant had reluctantly gathered his food and returned to his clan, the Dragon looked at Kevla ruefully.
“Is it hard, being a god?” she said with mock sympathy.
He sighed, blowing a gust of fiery breath over her. “You have no idea.”
She also approached and welcomed her Lorekeepers. Some of them still seemed reticent, others eagerly went to her, even embraced her. She found she gravitated to Melaan. This was the man Jashemi had trusted, and as Second of a powerful clan, he had no small amount of influence. At one point, their eyes met and he nodded. Even without words, she knew what he was communicating: he would be there for her, at her right hand, no matter what came.
At last, Kevla judged that it was sufficiently dark. She was pleased that the moon was well on the wane. The last thing she wanted was to alert the Emperor or his armies that the foolish, scattered clans of Arukan knew about their approach—and had a dragon at their disposal.
She created several pillars of free-standing flame to illuminate the clearing in which the Dragon sat. She did so with an extra flamboyance, so that those gathered could see her powers.
Oh, Jashemi. Once, we were so afraid of our abilities; we hid them, we lied about them. Now, look at what I am doing. Look at how proud these people are to be Lorekeepers. I wish I could share this sweet moment with you.
Kevla stepped forward and surveyed the crowd. “The time has come,” she said. “Who among you is brave enough to ride the Dragon?”
One person strode forward boldly. “I will ride the Dragon, with the Flame Dancer,” said Tahmu-kha-Rakyn.
She gave him a grateful smile. Now others too came forward, until there were over a dozen. Still more came.
The Dragon arched an eyebrow. “My, you people have a lot of clans, don’t you?”
“Dragon, can you bear so many?” Kevla asked solicitously.
He looked indignant. “I am not a mere sa’abah. I am the Great Dragon, a creature of magic. I will bear what I need to bear, as, my dear, will you. Well, let’s be about it then.”
With a grunt, he lowered himself to the earth, crouching on his haunches with his forelegs extended straight out in front of him. Even so, it was no easy feat for the men to clamber aboard his back. Kevla waited until they had all mounted, watching with satisfaction as fear turned into awed delight. Then she stepped astride the Dragon’s lowered neck. Her father—ai, it was still so strange to think of the powerful Tahmu-kha-Rakyn that way—sat behind her.
Turning to look at the men, she called, “You must hold tightly to one another. You have been enemies before, but now your life depends on the man in front of and behind you. Grasp the Dragon’s spine ridges as well, you won’t hurt him.”
When her father made no move to secure himself to her, she looked over her shoulder at him.
“It’s all right,” she said softly, for his ears alone. “You once put your arm around me like this to keep me from falling from Swift. Let me return the favor now.”
An odd look passed over his face, then he nodded imp
assively. His strong arms went around her waist, and for an instant, she became that little girl again, spinning a marvelous fantasy about being the khashim’s daughter. She wondered if he, too, was reliving that moment.
But that was long ago, and the success of her journey now would affect more lives than those of herself and her father. She faced forward. When she was convinced they were ready, she nodded to the Dragon. She felt him gather himself, trying to adjust to the extra weight of so many riders. His big sides swelled, then subsided as he drew and expelled a breath. He lowered his head, and she sensed—there was no other word for it—the Dragon willing himself to carry this strange new weight. Then, as gently and smoothly as he could, the mighty creature leaped skyward.
Kevla smothered a grin as she heard gasps and oaths behind her. Her father tightened his grip around her waist reflexively, then she felt him force himself to relax.
She permitted herself to close her eyes and enjoy the feeling of the night wind on her face. How she loved this! The moment she had first tentatively mounted the Dragon, she felt an immediate sense of familiarity. She knew exactly how to balance herself and had a complete trust in her friend. The men behind her quieted, but she knew they were still anxious.
It was so peaceful, so quiet up here, away from the noises of the earth. The only sound was the steady, powerful rhythm of the Dragon’s wings, and her own breath. Upward he went, until the campfires of the clans were nothing but tiny specks.
Now the Dragon gently turned toward the mountain range. It was strange to behold them, seemingly so tiny, when for so many centuries their fearsome, jagged peaks had effectively protected Arukan from the rest of the world. Mount Bari loomed over the rest as the Dragon approached the place that had been his home for so long.
Kevla craned her neck. “Look down,” she cried to the men behind her. They all did so, and Kevla smiled. Through the haze of black smoke, she could see directly into the heart of the molten pool of liquid rock. Where she had submerged only to be reborn. Where the Dragon had slept for centuries, awaiting her.
But now the Dragon’s deceptively easy wingbeats carried them smoothly over the Sacred Mountain, and Kevla felt her heart speed up as for the first time she, indeed any Arukani, beheld what lay on the other side of the mountain chain.
At first, this far side looked much like its twin in Arukan. Then, she caught sight of something in the distance.
They might not have believed words, she thought with a combination of exhilaration and apprehension, but surely they will believe this.
They would likely have no clear sight of the armies tonight, no soldiers or tents or engines of war. It was too dark for that; too dark, as well, for the Emperor’s forces to see a mighty Dragon wheeling above them in the sky.
But the men perched atop that Dragon could see the army’s fires.
Tiny little sparks they were, and at first, the eye could not be certain as to their identity. Gradually, the Dragon dove closer, and the small orange sparks became campfires.
There were hundreds on the other side of the mountain, several in each encampment.
The army of the Emperor from over the mountain had thousands.
Again, Kevla heard gasps and murmurings. The Dragon went lower still, sailing silently above a vast army that was almost invisible save for their campfires. Now they could glimpse movement, see the faint outlines of tents.
When at last the men behind her fell silent, Kevla patted the Dragon’s neck. Obediently the great beast wheeled smoothly and returned the way he had come.
No one spoke on that journey back to the encampments. Tahmu kept his arms around his daughter, and at one point she could have sworn he pulled her closer to him. She did not think it was because he feared for his own safety.
Finally, the Dragon headed for the clearing, easily recognizable because of the circle of fires Kevla had left burning, and settled down gently. The men were in no hurry to dismount. Slowly, they did so, not speaking. Kevla remained atop the Dragon, waiting for their decision. Would they join her and fight for their own lives? Or would they scatter, seeing in their isolation an ability to escape from so terrible a foe?
Her mouth was dry and she was aware that she trembled. If they fled, there was no hope.
“Well?” she said finally. “You have seen the campfires with your own eyes. You know what is coming. The army will be here very soon. Will you stand and fight together, or will you scatter like frightened liahs?”
The first to step forward was Tahmu. “The Clan of Four Waters will fight with the Great Dragon and the Flame Dancer,” he cried.
“As will the Star Clan!”
“And the Sa’abah Clan!”
“The Horseriders will prepare for war!”
“As will the Sandcattle Clan!”
One after another, the cries went up and the pledges were made. Not a single clan chose to abandon the others. Kevla felt her heart fill to almost bursting. They believed her. They trusted her.
Jashemi, this is your moment. This is your dream. I wish you could see them.
“We will have a council of war,” announced Tahmu. He turned to his daughter. “Kevla Flame Dancer—will you join us?”
Kevla’s eyes widened. This would be a council unlike any ever seen in Arukan before. All of the khashims, their Seconds, and their most trusted advisors would be present.
A female had never been permitted to participate.
Slowly, she nodded. “Of course,” she said, and slipped off the Dragon. Tahmu extended a hand to help her down. They stood face-to-face for a long minute, each searching the other’s eyes.
In Tahmu’s face, Kevla saw Jashemi. The two men, father and son, had been so alike, she now realized. They had shared the dream that was coming true at this moment, and she would be a part of that.
She squeezed her father’s hand, and went to the council of war.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Kayle’s attendant Parneth stuck his head inside the captain’s tent, grinning fiercely. “Captain? The scouts have returned.”
“Excellent,” said Kayle. “A moment more and I will meet with them.” He took another bite of bread and honey. If Kayle had anything resembling a weakness, it was his fondness for sweet things. The golden liquid dripped off the bread onto his fingers and he sucked it off. He had gone ahead of the army with seven of his most trusted scouts, to find the best path through the mountains and, perhaps, to see if there were any unsuspecting Arukani clans within easy attack distance. Even though the army had many men, they could always use a few more.
“Captain.” Parneth hesitated. “I think you had best meet with them now. They come with an extra prize for the Emperor.”
Kayle sighed and rose, still licking his fingers. Parneth knew his master well, and would not push so if it were not important. However, when he stepped outside into the moonlight and sawthe “extra prize,” Kayle thought he might enjoy seeing Parneth beaten.
He whirled on the younger man. “You interrupt my meal for a camp follower?” Other men might rush eagerly into the arms of such a lovely woman, but Kayle cared little for the pleasures offered by either sex. His passion was slaughter, and he preferred to save his energies for that.
Admittedly, they’d found a good one. Not a maiden, but a woman, still in the prime of her beauty. She looked tired and hungry, but bore herself erectly.
“She is not what you think, my lord,” said one of his scouts, exchanging grins with his companions. “We will let her speak for herself.”
The woman stepped forward, and for an instant Kayle felt a strong urge to kneel in front of her, so commanding was her presence. The desire passed quickly.
“I have come to you with news for your Emperor, which he will wish to hear. You will take me to him.”
“No, lady, I will not. You will speak your news to me, or I will cut out your tongue and you will speak it to no one.”
She looked at him, a half smile on her lips. “Do you know, I believe you.”
“I know you recognize what I once was,” she said. “I hear it in your voice. You know nobility when you see it, whatever tattered rags it comes dressed in. I was once the khashima of a great House in Arukan—the greatest House. Now, I am nothing but a camp follower. How I fell to this is not important. What is important is that you believe that my desire to have revenge upon my husband and his people is real.”
Kayle’s single eye searched her, taking her in, from her long hair to her elegant features to her body. The clothing she wore had indeed been fine once, but was now filthy and stank of sweat. While she was thin, she did not have the aged, emaciated look of one who had lived a step away from starvation all her life. This was a woman who had once lived in luxury.
“Go on.”
“You have been preying on the clans one by one,” she said, “but they have seen your numbers and know what you have planned. In turn, they have abandoned their differences and will greet your army united.”
Kayle scowled and looked to his scouts for confirmation.
“It is true, sir,” said the head scout. “We were shocked when we cleared the range and saw so many campfires. Somehow, they know. I saw hundreds.”
“We have thousands,” retorted Kayle, but still he felt a quiver of doubt. It was one thing to descend upon small groups and conquer them one by one. To face all the Arukani clans together would necessitate different tactics. The Emperor needed to know as soon as possible.
But apparently, the woman was not yet done. “I have followed my former Clan to this meeting place. I have watched what has transpired there. I have listened in the shadows and I know their numbers, their plans, their weapons, and I know of an enemy that would make even your Emperor quail where he stands.”
“Then tell me, lady. My meal is not getting any warmer.”
“In exchange for safe passage in your country,” she replied.“Food, water, clothing, money. I will not return to the land of my shame.”
On Fire’s Wings Page 31
