The Dragon Knight's Soul

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The Dragon Knight's Soul Page 24

by D. C. Clemens


  “I realize you don’t enjoy the idea of being betrayed,” said Odet, “but facing the Advent on our own is far too great a risk.”

  “But who do we go to?” I asked. “Do we be blunt and head straight for the Wregor capital?”

  “Blunt is not bad, but I’d be wary of statesmen. I would go to the Warriors Guild and use them as more than just a ploy. After all, they used to assist the dragon knights before the war, and they’ve been rudderless sever since. Most people now consider them little more than mercenaries, not protectors of the innocent. You can give them a direction, a grander purpose.”

  “But you can still keep them at arm’s length,” said Gerard. “If they listen, then they can also be used as an intermediary between you and the various nobility.”

  “Why wouldn’t they listen?” asked Clarissa, holding back a yawn.

  “Because we’re foreigners,” said Ghevont. “History shows that outsiders telling natives what to do rarely goes over well. Even the worldly dragon knights were not immune from the disagreeable outcomes that transpire due to coming from somewhere else.”

  “We won’t be telling anyone what to do,” said Odet, doing her best to quash a yawn of her own. “We’ll present them with our problem and ask anyone who can help to join us. Advent supporters might answer the call, but I’m confident more well-meaning people impressed by the first dragon knight in centuries will aid us as well. Who knows, we might gain so many enthusiasts that we can assault multiple forests at the same time.”

  “And don’t forget the staff,” said Clarissa. “Anyone using nismerdon magic will be found out. If anything, attracting Advent supporters could be a good thing. We can find them before they cause real trouble.”

  “Not all Advent will use nismerdon magic,” I pointed out. “Still, the staff should warn us of the stronger ones if the last Advent we faced was any indication.” I opened one of the scrolls Beatrice had given me. “Well, Wregor’s main guild house is in Tawahori.”

  “Where’s that?” asked the vampire. “That’s not the capital.”

  “It’s on the northern coast of the Wregor Sea. Kikokumo is on an island in the middle of the sea, so I doubt the guild would be of much use there. Someone named Chun Miyake is the guild master.”

  “I hope you’re pronouncing these names right. We don’t want to insult the people we’re trying to get help from.”

  “I believe there should be less emphasis on the vowel sounds,” said Ghevont.

  “We’ll have half a continent to get it right,” I said. “Everyone get some sleep. I’ll take first watch.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I set foot in Efios again two days after leaving the now single palm island. A good three thousand northeastern miles of solid ground lied between us and Tawahori. To give ourselves something of a respite before taking on this latest breadth, Aranath decided to take a day long nap. In turn, I now gained a full day to train, relax, and travel the traditional way. Nothing beat the haste and pure euphoria of flying, but using one’s own legs to amble through a garden inhabited by chirping birds, pollen-laced flowers, and buzzing bees did bring a sense of tranquility I missed from time to time.

  Part of Nikno’s northern border was defined by the crescent-shaped coastline, which ate into the continent for hundreds of miles. Chosoky rested at the southern tip of the curving coast while another city rested on the northern tip fifteen hundred miles to the north. Almost all the lands east of these port cities had to contend with the host of Chiszir clans. Unless battling their neighbors, the Chiszir warrior tribes wrestled with each other for resources, power, and, like in the Glims, bragging rights.

  Excluding a handful of permanent villages used as meeting places, trading posts, and growing crops, the vast majority of the Chiszir moved about their vast territory on agile horses. More common than war, they employed their trusty mounts to chase down their living food, which included massive beasts like the hornless rhino illustrated in one of Ghevont’s pamphlets on Efios’ wildlife. I saw a herd of the gray, bulky creatures myself after Aranath’s first flight here.

  The biggest one stood higher than any elephant I had ever seen, thanks in large part to its taller, thicker legs and a longer neck. Clarissa laughed at how small its head looked compared to the rest of its physique, but it probably weighed more than her entire body. Same went for the stumpy tail. Somehow, in spite of Aranath being the larger creature, the hornless rhino gave the impression that it weighed twice as much. Either way, it would have made for a hearty meal for a dragon twice as large as Aranath.

  Their human hunters lived in cone-shaped tents made from animal skins when they weren’t on the move. Others lived in bigger domed huts, with quite a few of them painted in shades of green to make them harder to spot from a distance. Clusters of these transportable homes could easily be seen from our altitude, a few signifying large groups of two or three thousand people. The scattered, itinerant society made it trickier for us to find deserted regions, especially considering we had to fly through the heartland of their territory.

  We managed to find secluded regions that fit our purposes. Due to their relative uselessness to the horsemen, the strewn assemblages of trees seemed to dissuade them from getting too close, so we could land by a tree line to get a bit of shelter and food without having to worry about being interrupted by the natives. Nevertheless, the more north we went, the throngs of trees became smaller and less common.

  At one point, with no miniature woodland in sight and rain inbound, we headed for a small field of dark rocks in what looked to be a long dried lakebed veneered with graveled sand. However, as we flew closer, the pasture of rocks attained a pattern of parallel deliberateness to them—a ruined town of stone. Figuring the Chiszir had as much use for stone as they did foliage, no qualm steered me away from the deterioration.

  Aranath landed on the lip of the lake turned town turned abandoned decay. The mile long hole appeared to be once filled with about fifty feet of water. Now its arid floor held the quasi-crumbled frames of a forsaken settlement.

  Getting up close to the first neglected structure, Odet asked Ghevont, “This isn’t on any of your maps?”

  Running a finger on a cobblestone wall, the scholar replied, “No. Space and weight considerations forced me to only bring along the most recent records available. Priority was given to active sites and trade routes.”

  “Do you think this was a tribe’s attempt to build a more cozy civilization?” asked Gerard.

  “How are rocks cozy?” asked Clarissa.

  Answering the knight, Ghevont said, “It’s possible. I’m not seeing any signs of violence, so perhaps people unaccustomed to a sedentary life merely chose to abandon this place. Still, it’s more possible none of the Chiszir were involved in its construction. This could be the result of an old incursion from northerners who took a foothold long enough for this town to sprout. That changed when the invaders realized the Chiszir and their land could not be overcome.”

  Looking up, I said, “Either way, let’s get in as much training as we can before it starts pouring.”

  “It doesn’t look that bad,” said Clarissa.

  “Aranath disagrees.”

  Aranath was right. A cloudburst drenched us ten minutes later. Uninterested in upping our chances for sickness, I forced us to stop training under the cold rain. The heaviest drops persisted for the rest of the afternoon, which we dodged inside one of the roomier and sturdier homes.

  Hours passed and I found myself staring at the dying fire under the powder blue light of a near full moon. Gerard and Clarissa had recently taken over the watch from Odet and Ghevont, who now slept in the same room we waited out the downpour in. I sat outside the home, focusing on my heart meditations. Another hour of this training and I figured I could still get in a worthy slumber.

  Then, high above my head, a bizarre noise that sounded like a cow mooing underwater broke my focus. I searched the stars for the origin of the inexplicable sound, only getting t
he briefest glimpse of a vulture-shaped silhouette gliding under the moon. A few moments later, scrambling footsteps moved my attention to the sloping shoreline in front of me. It was a ruffled Gerard coming down from his lookout.

  “What is it?” I asked, standing up.

  “Clarissa sees at least three people on horses heading our way. They started galloping at the same time we heard a strange bird call. Did you hear it?”

  “Aye. It flew right over the dead town. Must have seen us and alerted its master.”

  “So it’s too late to hide.”

  Dashing up the defunct lake’s brink, I said, “Wake up the others.”

  I climbed up to Clarissa’s vantage point, then squatted beside her. With the aid of the universe’s natural light, I had no trouble discerning three human figures on horses hurrying toward us. They were less than a hundred yards away from us.

  “Do you want to summon Aranath?”

  “It still feels too soon to panic. There’s only three of them.”

  “Why are Chiszir interested in this place?”

  I put a hand below her arm and guided the vampire to her full height. “We’re about to find out.”

  The horses slowed their gait when they saw us stand up. They stopped altogether when the rest of my group made themselves known. After a short-lived discussion between the riders, the slimmest of the trio dismounted their horse and took a few steps closer, getting within thirty feet of us, or a range where the human eye picked up simple facial features and clothing.

  We eyed a thirty-something woman with short black hair, small eyes, and an upturned nose. She wore an earthen colored garb of cotton that was somewhere between a ritualistic dress and a practical doublet that extended to her knees. Brown hide boots protected her feet, and fingerless leather gloves would give her a good grip of the steel saber hanging tight by her left hip.

  Her small eyes shrank further when she squinted them. Under her breath, she said something in a language Aranath was not familiar with. I did not need a translation with her next sentences. “Who are you? Northerners?” She articulated each word as though she had to choose them from a translation tome.

  “Simple travelers from Iazali,” I answered.

  “Nothing simple about being out here. Why are Iazalians here?”

  “Just passing through as we journey to Wregor. We thought a stone ruin would be bereft of Chiszir activity. Do you belong to one of their tribes?”

  “Who I pledge to is no matter to you. Have you seen others here?”

  “Others? Ah, I get it. You’re supposed to meet another group here, aren’t you? Your bird told you about us and you assumed it was them.”

  “And have you seen others?” she asked again, her voice crosser.

  “Unless they’re doing a very good job of hiding, no, we’ve been alone all night. Look, it’s clear we interrupted your plans, and I have no interest in disrupting them further. We’ll get out of your hair.”

  I bowed and took a step back, but before I turned all the way around, the woman said, “Stay there! You can’t leave. We first make sure you’re not a danger to us.”

  “Why would we be? We don’t know who you are. Even if we did, there are only two choices for us to make—attack you with our greater numbers or help you. We’re not doing either.”

  “Then why are you here? If you’re really going to Wregor, why are you not taking a ship or the northern roads? Why cross here?”

  “We’re flying over these lands, not walking, so we don’t need to sail or take the roads to avoid unpredictable people. Or so I thought.”

  Her distrustful tone turned almost childlike when she asked, “Flying? On winged lions?”

  “Uh, no. Winged lizards. May we leave now?”

  Returning to her austere tone, she said, “No. First we search to make sure no bodies are being hidden. Then we decide when you go.”

  I sighed. “Fine. Search away.”

  She mounted her horse and I tramped down the slope. The clopping of hooves trotted into the lakebed.

  Following close behind me as the others kept an eye on the horses, Clarissa asked, “In my experience, one group of people meeting another in the middle of the night are usually up to no good.”

  “Should we kill them, then?”

  “Um, no.”

  “Then what do you want me to do about it?”

  “You clearly need more sleep, you big grouch. Your little nap did nothing.”

  “I wasn’t tired earlier. Now I’m getting there.”

  Our group huddled by the cinders of our campfire, waiting for the Chiszir to finish sweeping the area. At least one of them always had us in their view. Floating fireballs gave them light inside a building, and earth spells cleared away any crust of sand and rock they believed could hide a body.

  For the next twenty or so minutes I concentrated on my heart meditation. Early on, thinking I must have slept sitting up and with eyes open, Clarissa poked my arm to check my alertness. The next interruption transpired exactly like the first, with that mooing bird call.

  “Sounds like the other group is here,” said Gerard. “I’m guessing we’re outnumbered now.”

  Responding to my yawn, Ghevont said, “I don’t think Mercer is worried about numbers.”

  All three horsemen returned to us. The woman rose a hand over her head and cast a bright flame. It squirmed for a moment before she snuffed it out. Seconds later and we heard flapping wings and the subdued squawks of griffins. Three of the aerial beasts, whose outline appeared bulkier than the whiptail species, touched down at the top of the slope in front of us. One of the griffins carried two passengers on its back. The woman and her horse trotted up to meet them. Hushed voices then discussed what kind of flowers best impressed a girl, or something close, I’m sure.

  “Can you see who the griffin riders are?” princess asked vampire. “Are they Chiszir?”

  “Uh, maybe. Well, three of them are definitely dressed differently than the horsemen. They’re wearing pieces of leather armor over a heavy looking cloth thing. They do not look happy.”

  “Who wants to bet a gold standard we’ll be attacked?” I asked.

  “I’ll take that bet,” said Gerard.

  Clarissa moaned. “I suppose I’ll take on the horsemen.”

  In one of her serious tones, Odet said, “We don’t have to take on anyone. Mercer, will it be too much trouble to summon Aranath?”

  “Less trouble than killing people we don’t know.”

  I stood up, clutched the hilt with one hand and made a fist with the other. Then I looked at the sky. Proclaiming the spell’s success, an ass-clenching roar from a diving dragon panicked the horses, griffins, and their riders. The dragon’s landing scattered them faster than a spraying skunk could clear a royal ballroom. We used the opening to climb on to the beast and flee east.

  Seeing as my nerves were going to suffer anyway, I pushed Aranath to fly near his limit for the half hour we stayed in the air. When we landed near three parasol-like trees, I told Aranath to serenade the landscape with two or three of his best warning roars in the hopes they scared the shit out of anyone listening.

  As I crumpled by a tree, Clarissa asked, “Are you all right?”

  Closing my eyes and crossing my arms, I said, “Kill anyone who disturbs me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Flying over forts, trampled paths, and small towns told us we entered Wregor controlled land. Another day’s travel made the towns larger and the formally dirt roads paved with stone or bricks. When on the ground I could see how Wregor architecture differed from something like Dracera’s obsession with pyramids and Alslana’s open air style.

  Except for roads and fortifications, Wregor’s architects did not appear to relish working with stone. They did enjoy courtyards and building outward instead of vertical. Despite few structures reaching above thirty feet, many larger homes put much effort in making their roofs stand out with a rippling texture and a yellowish color that came from
their tiles.

  Excluding military strongholds, the only tall edifices were tiered towers with multiple eaves fanning outward. Ghevont assumed these pagodas to be temples. Some resembled little squat pyramids stacked on top of one another. Yet others stood like narrow obelisks with right-angled or circular eaves only sticking out a couple of feet. We observed these buildings from a distance, of course. Being obvious outsiders, we did not wish to draw attention to ourselves just yet.

  Similar to Dracerans, airy, robe-like clothing established itself as the main dress of the people, though generally dyed with less bright colors. As for guardsmen and soldiers, many wore flexible looking brigandine or lamellar armor over a layer of hardy cloth stained in reds and yellows. Plate armor did not seem to be a popular choice in this region.

  Finding miles of uninhabited land became harder to find the deeper we flew into the empire. Farms, villages, and larger towns dotted the countryside with regular occurrence, and plenty of busy, patrolled roads lied between them. At night we sneaked close to the roads so we could find out their names and check our exact location. Many signs were transcribed in the shared tongue, but even more were written in Ubin, now the most widespread language in Wregor.

  As in most lands the dragon knights touched, the shared tongue used to dominate here. However, after the dragon war, Wregor and other nations in central and southern Efios desired to demote the imported speech and reassert their own languages. Wregor’s aggressive expansion allowed their old way of speaking and writing to proliferate faster than competing tongues.

  Regardless, trade connections and the prevailing translation of Duality kept the shared tongue alive. Furthermore, at least in my eyes, the written form of Ubin appeared harder to learn. Most of their symbols looked like horseshoes in various angles and surrounded by a different number of dots, wavy lines, straight lines, and smaller horseshoes. They appeared more similar to runes than sentences. Aranath had some exposure to the old spoken languages of Efios, but not so much their written forms.

 

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