He knew immediately what was happening. Locke had brought siege devices—devices Alured had helped him design. They were large constructions made of wood and rope. A bucket was attached to one end of a log and a heavy weight attached to the other end. The weight was lifted after the bucket was filled. When the weight was released, the contents of the bucket were thrown forward. Large wooden wheels allowed the device to be moved long distances, though movement was slow due to the massive weight of the machine.
Based on where the stones were landing, Alured estimated that the devices were still a good bit away from the camp, though they were steadily moving forward. Wagons further into the clearing were now being destroyed. After some brief thought, Alured called to two dragons—Klya, a venom spitter, and Jasa, a fire spitter. When they arrived, he explained the situation.
"I want you to fly around the main group and come in from the back. Take two others for support. Hit the base, near the wheels. Your spit will eat away at the supports. Bring the machines down. Go, now!"
Alured watched the dragons as they flew out of sight beyond the trees. The battle below them was just as tenuous. The Gypsies were fighting the soldiers tooth and nail, but the soldiers clearly had the upper hand. Gypsies and soldiers lay strewn about the clearing, both having sacrificed everything for their side, yet the soldiers continued to advance, albeit slowly and in minute increments. Dragons were going toe-to-toe in battles in the skies, their blood raining down on the combatants below. Several of Locke's soldiers lay crushed beneath two dragons, who had wounded each other fatally in a vicious air battle and crashed unceremoniously to the ground.
Several old Gypsy women, cloaked in dark capes, slipped between the ongoing battles, finding wounded combatants who needed their help. The women did not discriminate among the injured, willingly helping Gypsies and soldiers alike. A dozen young boys, too young to be allowed in battle, followed the women and carried those who were not fatally injured back to pre-designated aid areas where cots had been set up and healers were working nonstop.
Alured watched in horror as one of the women was ambushed by an enemy dragon and his rider. The woman stooped down to assist a wounded soldier whose leg bent underneath him at an unnatural angle. Behind her, a large purple dragon rose up, a rider on his back directing his moves. The creature swept in, swiftly and silently, as the rider nocked his bow and took aim. The arrow flew toward the woman's back, straight and true, promising a swift death.
At the last moment, the old Gypsy turned, staring down the rider with sadness in her eyes. Her hand moved in almost unnoticed and the arrow fell harmlessly from the sky. The rider's eyes grew large as he felt his saddle slip from the dragon's back and he plunged to the ground behind the Gypsy line. Both legs broken and unable to move, he was quickly surrounded and captured. His dragon, seeing his master's fate, attempted to escape, but met with two other dragons bearing Gypsies on their backs. He chose to surrender without a fight. The old woman nodded satisfactorily and turned back to her task.
Graol, too old to be of use in close combat, had led most of the women, children, and elderly men into the woods, where they set up a safe area to wait out the battle and prepare to flee if the need came. Malxon remained on the edge of the battle, directing his militia against the attackers. Khaili, at her husband and Alured's pleadings, agreed to remain at one of the healing areas, outside the main battle.
It was here that a small contingent of soldiers attacked. Khaili, not one prone to meekness, whipped out a surgical knife and stood her ground, along with several others. The soldiers did not expect to meet such resistance from a group of women and were thrown off guard. Khaili lunged at the nearest attacker, slicing across his sword arm, forcing him to drop his weapon. She slipped behind him, slicing his throat with practiced efficiency before advancing on the next soldier. The other women were not as learned in the ways of battle, but they held their own and the small group of foolish soldiers were quickly dispatched. One wounded soldier surrendered and was taken to a holding area where he was interrogated.
A flaming chunk of wood flew through the sky in front of Apoph, crashing into the nearby wagons, setting them alight. Alured recognized the wood, seeing evidence of spit marks on the burning chunks. Klya and Jasa had taken out at least one of the siege devices. The former king did not know how many remained, but boulders and wood continued to fly through the air toward the Gypsy encampment.
Slowly, painfully, and at great cost, the Gypsies began to gain a foothold against the invaders. Many were lost on both sides, but the soldiers were being beaten back into the woods. Gypsies not engaged elsewhere slipped through the trees, lighting controlled fires, keeping the soldiers from escaping. The boulders slowed, lapses between the flaming wood growing greater. All but one of the siege devices had been destroyed and the black dragon and his rider watched as the final boulder flew wildly askew as the device collapsed. Within minutes, Klya and Jasa returned, reporting their successes. Both were riddled with small wounds, arrows sticking out where their scales had not been covered with armor, but the wounds were minor. At Alured's request, they flew off to the dragon healing camp behind Gypsy lines.
The battle raged for nearly the entire day, but eventually the invaders were chased out of the camp. The Gypsies followed the soldiers through the path until they were far enough away to not pose much of a threat and guards were stationed all around the area, but the attackers' forces had been so depleted in the losing battle that they were unlikely to return. Scouts reported seeing Locke's forces fleeing toward Rona, unwilling to risk their lives further in a futile effort.
The Gypsies had suffered greatly, as well. More than a third of the dragon force was killed, another half of the remaining dragons were wounded severely. All involved in the attack had suffered injuries to some extent. The humans involved in defending the camp fared no better. At least a quarter of them were killed and more than two-thirds of them were wounded. Several lacked limbs or suffered other crippling wounds.
As Alured and Apoph rejoined Malxon, Graol, and Khaili around the fire at the end of the day, few words were spoken. The successes of the day were far outweighed by the losses. Legh, normally alive with song and cheer far into the night, remained silent as tears were shed, the stillness broken only by the occasional scream of pain or anger.
Chapter 31
The citizens of Rona lived in fear and trepidation. Slyvania had called them all to the entrance of the palace a month prior. For nearly an hour after the designated time, the inhabitants stood in the drizzling rain, huddling together to keep warm, waiting for the princess they all despised. Tension and excitement spread among the people gathered at the gates and rumors were murmured throughout the crowd as to the nature of the coming speech. Such rumors had been circulating for months, but no one really knew what had transpired in the imperial palace.
People jostled for the best positions to view and hear the princess, who was expected to speak to them for the first time in more than six months, when she had informed them of the king's horrible illness. Children climbed up onto poles or their parents' shoulders. Bodyguards of rich men and women shoved weaker peasants aside, securing coveted breathing room for their charges. A homeless woman, thin and weak from near starvation, fell to the ground as the crowd grew restless waiting. Not a soul realized they were stepping on the body of a fellow human being.
Just when those on the fringes of the massive crowd had grown short of patience and were leaving, the heralds came through the gates and took their places among the crowd, ready to relay Slyvania's message. A double line of guards filed out from doors on either side of the main entrance to the palace, forming a barrier between the crowd and the entrance.
The princess, wearing a heavy black cloak embellished extravagantly with gold thread, stepped through the doors above the main gates onto the balcony designed to allow royalty to speak to the crowd as a whole. She was flanked by half a dozen royal guards, all dressed in chain mail, none wearing the typical ceremonial armor tha
t was common for a gathering such as this. The woman was pudgier than the crowd remembered; the cloak could not hide the intense weight gain she had apparently gone through in the last half a year. Her face was splotchy and swollen, a fact which was quickly passed on to the rest of the crowd by those close enough to see her. Her makeup was smudged and she appeared to have been crying.
Clearing her throat, the woman raised her hands, covered in black gloves as elaborately decorated as her cloak, calling for silence. The crowd quieted, though not quickly, and her face flushed in anger, growing more mottled and splotchy.
"Shut up!"
Her voice cracked as she screamed at the crowd, stomping her foot in a minor tantrum before she could pull herself under control. Her advisor had warned her that the citizens of Rona would not appreciate this behavior, but old habits are hard to break. Snickering from children below her only angered her more, but she closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, attempting to calm herself so she could speak to the rabble with expected proper remorse. Eventually, with the assistance of the guards and heralds, the crowd quieted enough for her to be heard above the ruckus.
"My beloved citizens," she began, noting the many eyes that rolled below her and the scoffs from several known dissenters in the crowd. Taking another deep breath, she began again, refusing to let these peons ruin her day.
"My beloved citizens, I stand before you today in great sadness. For many years, we have been plagued by strife in our lands. Crops have failed, money grows short. Those wretched Gypsies attacking our precious supply trains, killing our soldiers—our family and friends."
Laughs rang out through the audience. For many of those who Slyvania deemed unworthy pests, the Gypsies were the only light in their dismal world. The Gypsies, feared, hated, and outlawed by King Aron all those many centuries ago, continued to thrive and prosper, feeding off the rich and bloated aristocrats and military, giving as much as they could spare to the poor citizens of Layr who struggled simply to feed their small families. The Gypsies had been growing braver in the last year or more, much to the pleasure of the peasants and lower society of Rona.
"Alas, my dear people, I regret bringing you even more bad news. As you know, my brother, King Alured, has been ill for quite some time."
Murmurs broke out in the crowd again. Since Slyvania spread the news that her brother was ill, rumors had been circulating. None believed that the princess told the truth. The three most commonly accepted rumors were that the king was dead already, that he was imprisoned in the dungeons below the palace, or that he had grown tired of being king and had run away to join the Gypsies. Most of the rumormongers did not realize how close to the truth they had come, or that the seeds were planted by spies in the palace.
When the crowd fell silent once again, she continued, "Yesterday, I spent most of the day at his side, as I have done for the last six months. Late in the evening, I was called from his side to deal with an urgent matter, and when I returned..."
She paused for a moment, pulling an embroidered cloth from a hidden pocket to dab her dry eyes. Before she could continue, the murmurs started again. Anger clouded her vision and she gritted her teeth, but forced herself to keep speaking, whether they could hear her or not.
"When I returned, I watched his chest, as I always do, to make sure he was still breathing. I watched for many moments, hoping to see his chest rise. Growing panicked, I grabbed a mirror from the side table and placed it in front of his nose, as the doctor had instructed me to do before. The mirror remained clear. In a state of distress, I called for the guard, who went to fetch the doctor. The doctor confirmed my fears. King Alured, the man who has ruled you steadfastly for many years, my beloved brother, is dead. This is a very sad day, but in a way it is a blessing. He has been suffering for so long, finally his pain has come to an end. I know you all want to share your condolences and show your respect to the king. I will be holding a funeral for him at the church, three days from today, at noon. I invite you all to attend."
With that, Slyvania turned her back on the crowd and left the balcony. As the heavy door closed, a moldy tomato smashed against the wood. Her soldiers said nothing and did not attempt to find the culprit. With thousands of citizens gathered in one place, having just heard news they clearly did not believe, it was all the guards could do to keep the press of bodies from rioting. More than an hour passed before the majority of the incensed citizens agreed to disperse, with much pleading and cajoling from the guards and heralds. Angry shouts aimed at the lying princess echoed through the square for hours after.
Over the next three days, the citizens of Rona grew more angry and vocal at Slyvania's obvious deceit. Crowds formed outside the palace, demanding she speak to them honestly, many calling for her to be replaced as head of Layr. On the third day, an hour before noon, the guards returned, again in double lines, forming a wide corridor between the gates of the palace and the door of the church. Citizens who had entered the church previously in preparation for their king's funeral were removed forcefully, shoved roughly through the lines of guards and blocked from returning.
The bell on top of the church announced the arrival of the noon hour amid an irritated murmur from the crowd surrounding the guards. As the last bell tolled, the gates to the palace opened and the procession started. More guards formed rank at the front, back, and sides of the procession. Nobles who had been invited to walk in the procession came first, with their entourage of attendants. It took better than a quarter of an hour for all the nobles to pass through the gates.
Behind them was Alured's coffin, painted black as night, wreathed with flowers. It was placed on an open wagon, drawn by two black horses and escorted by a contingent of soldiers clad in ceremonial garb. Last, surrounded by another full contingent of soldiers, rolled the royal carriage, drawn by two pure white stallions, decorated with flowers and fabric. The curtains were drawn, but everyone knew who was inside. The royal carriage was meant to be used only by the current ruling party. Slyvania's use of it meant she now viewed herself as the queen.
This was not taken lightly by the attending crowd. Not only had they been uninvited to the funeral of their king, but now the woman they feared and despised had declared herself his successor. More tomatoes flew through the air, followed by dangerous and less savory items the citizens had brought with them. By the time they carriage reached the steps of the church, it was smeared with rotten vegetables and other disgusting things and the horses were spooked.
The driver attempted to put the door the carriage as close to the steps of the church as he possibly could, but the new queen still had to walk up the long flight of stairs. When she stepped from the white carriage, an astonished silence fell momentarily over the gathered citizens. The woman, who had only announced the death of her king earlier that morning, wore the snow white coronation robe and carried her mother's crown in her hands. The crowd resumed throwing items, and, despite the increasing distance between them and their target, the white robe was streaked with red, green, and brown by the time Slyvania reached the door. She glanced back at her new citizens, hatred and revenge sitting bitterly on her face. As her eyes met those of a little boy clinging to a torch pole, arm cocked to throw a moldy piece of fruit, she turned her full hatred on him. Feeling his new ruler's anger wash over him, he cowered in fear and dropped the fruit, huddling against the pole until the queen entered the church.
On that day, Rona was no longer the struggling, but surviving city Alured had ruled. Slyvania tripled the guards, set up a curfew, and offered large rewards for any information leading to the capture of Gypsies or suspected Gypsy supporters. All non-essential services were discontinued. Shops selling everything from jewelry to clothing to books were boarded up, their wares deemed frivolous. The best of those merchants were hired privately by the queen to provide her with the most precious items available.
The food market remained open, but its hours were cut to three days a week for only four hours after noon bell. Normal citizen
s were forbidden to carry any weapons and those who were caught with any were immediately thrown in the dungeon. Schools were closed. People who did not have a good reason for being out of their homes were fined or thrown into chains. Entire families had been sent to the prison, which was overflowing. Others were taken to the stockades in the middle of town, the number of which had been tripled since Slyvania's reign began. The dungeon was packed beyond capacity, with rumors circulating that a small orange dragon was being held in solitary confinement.
Taxes were raised and those who were unable to pay were arrested or thrown from the city. Begging became an arrestable offense and thieving, once only punished by the loss of a hand, was paid for by the noose. Dissenters who had complained about the conditions under Alured's rule now longed for the days of the compassionate king and prayed for freedom to come.
Chapter 32
The skies were dark over Rona. The sun had risen, but thick clouds blocked the light and a gray drizzle soaked the city. Sparse rays of sun slipped through the heavy cover, casting an eerie glow on the palace. A beggar woman, often decried as a witch while she preached on the square of the dark future, stood beneath a torch pole, her rags soaked through. Looking to the north, she watched as the sky grew darker. The old woman squinted her eyes as shapes appeared in the fast-moving clouds. Nodding in satisfaction, she pulled a heavy cloak from beneath her ragged cloak and, wrapping herself tightly, moved off through the shadows toward the side of the palace.
Other citizens, some of the few allowed out during the day, noticed the darkening skies and rapidly moving clouds. It took them all much longer than the old woman, however, to notice that the clouds were changing shape. The two guards stationed at the north gates were the first to recognize the black beasts winging over the forests below the city. At first they did not react, assuming the beasts would break off to their left and head for the stables, as usually happened. But as the sky continued to darken and the shapes continued to multiply, their fear overtook them. Summoning one of their compatriots, they sent word to the captain of the guard that dozens of dragons were making their way toward the city.
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