Rondel whined about the distance, complaining that she would likely break a hip along the way, but she finally acquiesced, “Very well, but we can’t wait that long to start his training. We’ll begin on the way there.” Aletas shot her a contemptuous look. Rondel raised both hands innocently. “Just the basics!”
The queen didn’t look happy about the situation, but she turned away and left them without further argument.
“Guess we’re done here,” Rondel said. She glanced at Iren, her stupid grin rising to the surface. “Look lively! We’re bound for Serona!” She started walking west through the forest, not bothering to wait for a response.
“When did she get so enthusiastic?” Iren grumbled. He didn’t dare ask how far Serona was. He was sure he’d rather not know.
Iren and Minawë now stood alone in the woods. Suddenly, Iren felt uncomfortable. He couldn’t meet the Kodama’s eye. Instead, he dug the toe of his boot into the soft forest earth.
“I guess I won’t see you for a while,” Minawë said at length. Her voice trembled.
“Yeah,” Iren managed. The word was flat and woefully inadequate, but he couldn’t think of anything to say.
“I never got to thank you before,” the princess said. “If it weren’t for you, I’d be dead now.”
A lump formed in Iren’s throat. “You don’t have to thank me. Anyway, I could say the same thing to you. I’d be at the bottom of the Yuushin Sea if you hadn’t dived in after me.”
“That’s true,” she admitted, “but all the same, I wanted to thank you.” She wrapped him in a tight embrace. Unused to such close contact, his first instinct was to recoil, but slowly he relaxed and let her hug him. Her hold was soft, yet strong as well. He smiled. It made him feel secure in a way he’d never experienced before.
They stayed like that a few moments before off to the west a high-pitched, sarcastic voice called, “Pick up the pace, slacker! Serona won’t come to us!”
The pair separated, and Iren felt his face redden. Nervously, he asked, “Will I ever see you again?”
Minawë smiled, but Iren thought he saw sadness underneath the expression. “I’m sure,” she said, but the waver in her voice told him more than the words.
Then she was gone, leaving Iren alone in the woods. He sighed. He had no idea what kind of training Rondel planned for him, but he knew he wasn’t going to like it. Still, he supposed he shouldn’t keep the impatient hag waiting. Following Rondel’s voice, Iren raced to catch up to her.
“About time,” Rondel spat, glaring up at him.
“Just because I had someone to say goodbye to,” Iren retorted. “I wasn’t really expecting to get kicked out of Yuushingaral. What was all that with Aletas, anyway? Something happen between you two?”
Rondel shrugged. “Nothing in particular. Aletas lost her husband to Iren Saito’s curse a thousand years ago, and she still bears a deep grudge against Maantecs because of that.”
“So then, she didn’t fight that day?”
“No. In Kodaman culture, the king leads the army, but the queen truly rules the race. She oversees all non-military affairs. Even before the curse, Aletas almost never left Ziorsecth. She never fought in the Kodama-Maantec War, as far as I know. However, her husband, Otunë, did. He wielded the Chloryoblaka, the bow of the Forest Dragon, Dendryl. He also fathered Minawë.”
Iren’s thoughts drifted back to the Kodaman princess. If Otunë had fathered her, yet died during the Kodama-Maantec War, then that meant Minawë had to be nearly a thousand years old. He swallowed hard. No wonder she’d gotten upset when he’d asked about her age.
“Anyway,” Rondel continued, going back to her original topic, “while Aletas directed the brunt of her anger at me, she was equally incensed with both of us. She hid her ill will toward you, since you rescued Minawë. Truthfully, though, she abhors our presence here.”
“Why?”
“Ever since the Kodama-Maantec War ended and her husband died, Aletas started fearing the dragons and, by extension, Dragon Knights as well. You carry the Muryozaki. That alone makes her despise you.”
“That’s crazy,” Iren said. “Divinion is the Holy Dragon, right? That makes him good. Aletas shouldn’t fear him or me.”
“You don’t understand,” Rondel replied, shaking her head. “None of the dragons, not even Divinion, are inherently good or evil. They just are. After all, when Iren Saito cast his curse on the Kodamas, which dragon lent him power?”
Iren didn’t have to answer. He knew it well enough: Divinion.
“The Ryokaiten only create a conduit between dragon and knight,” Rondel explained. “The wills of both parties determine the nature of that bond. Draw your sword, and I’ll show you what I mean.”
Iren pulled out the Muryozaki, and Rondel pointed to the three concentric rings of Maantec writing that emanated from the dragon’s heart on the blade’s hilt. “I told you before that the kanji enchantment allows for a connection between you and Divinion, but there’s a lot more to it. Actually, only the innermost ring allows a knight to draw on the dragon’s power. The second ring permits the dragon to test would-be knights. Most important by far, though, is the outermost ring.”
“What does it mean?” Iren asked, rubbing his thumb over the strange characters.
“That circle keeps the dragon’s will in check. It prevents the dragon’s spirit from leaving its gem except when the knight calls upon its magic.”
“Why is that so important?”
“Use your head! Back in Veliaf, I explained how using the dragon’s magic is a contest of wills between the two of you. The more magic you draw, the more of the dragon’s will enters your body. If you only use a little magic, the dragon’s will can’t affect you. But if you draw too much, the dragon can enter your mind. In the extreme case, it overwhelms you and transforms you into a dragon, as I previously explained. Do you understand? The third kanji circle is the reason why you could communicate with Divinion after you healed Dirio, but normally you can neither see nor hear him. Without that ring, Divinion’s will could enter you regardless of any spells used.”
Iren shrugged. “That doesn’t sound like a bad thing. I mean, I’d probably understand a lot more about being a Dragon Knight if I could talk to Divinion all the time.”
Rondel threw her arms in the air. “Fool, letting your dragon inside your mind is the last thing you should ever want! Once there, he can manipulate you, using your insecurities to gradually take over your mind. Over an extended period, your personality would change until you literally became the dragon.”
“Why would the dragons do something like that?”
“For the most part, the dragons despise mortals. In their eyes, not only did we eternally imprison them in gems, but then by making the Ryokaiten, we tried to tame them. When a dragon wrests control from its knight, it takes advantage of the situation to get revenge on the mortals who dared to contain them. They transform the knight’s body to match their own dragon form, and then they rampage and slay all in their path.”
Iren thought back on his experience with Divinion. Granted, he’d only met the dragon once, after healing Dirio. Still, Iren didn’t consider Divinion evil. At the very least, he didn’t seem like someone who would commit genocide. Confused, Iren asked, “Rondel, does any of this really apply to me? Divinion’s the Holy Dragon, after all. Even if I lost control and set him loose, surely he would do nothing but good for Raa.”
The old woman replied without hesitation, “Are you willing to take that chance?”
Rondel let her question hang. When Iren didn’t answer, she turned away and resumed walking. Iren followed her silently for over an hour before Rondel called them to a halt. “This looks like a good spot,” she said. “We can train here a while before continuing westward.”
Iren glanced around, unimpressed. This patch of woods didn’t seem any different from the others they’d walked through. “What kind of training?” he asked. “What do I have to do?”
Rondel ga
ve him a mischievous grin that made him gulp. “Simple,” she said, “hit me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Loyalty’s Reward
Balear walked through the world yet felt as though he had departed reality. He’d left Captain, no, King Angustion’s temporary lodgings and made his way to Haldessa Castle, wandering its vacant halls like a ghost. The cold, charred stone bore testament to the battles fought here, the opulence ruined, and the voices silenced. Each step rang, echoing hollowly through the ruin.
Ever since he’d caught up to Iren outside Ziorsecth, everything Balear had thought he’d known had upended itself. He’d found Iren’s healing abilities bizarre, but that white light from his palm had been more than Balear could handle. Balear wanted just to dismiss it as devil magic, but Iren’s words kept coming back to him: “All that matters to me now is protecting the life of someone precious!”
Balear kicked a piece of rubble. Iren’s changes were unsettling enough, yet they paled in comparison to what had happened to Haldessa and, more disturbingly, King Angustion. As Balear meandered through Haldessa’s vacant halls, dark premonitions gathered around him. If enemies could bring down this great castle, then truly nothing on Raa was secure.
King Angustion, however, hardly looked affected by the tragedy. He was more interested in trinkets like Rondel’s dagger. Balear held the traitor’s tiny weapon in his hand, doubt gnawing at him. What kind of leader would the new king be? The mere fact that Balear asked himself that question mortified him. He’d always believed in his superior officer. A truly gifted man, the king saw events ten steps in advance and reacted accordingly. Moreover, he never lost his temper. Even when his subordinates failed, he forgave them and motivated them to try harder next time.
Balear wondered what could have caused such a dramatic change in King Angustion’s behavior. He’d never seen the man react as violently as he had that morning. Doubtlessly, devil magic had something to do with it. From the second Balear had laid eyes on the king’s new sword, glowing red like some demon’s blade, he’d been convinced. That weapon was evil.
Still, the king had confronted countless challenges in his life. The crown, the sword, and the magic had all only recently come to him. With time he would adapt. Until then, Balear would simply have to accept the king’s temperament and support him faithfully.
Balear spent most of the afternoon wandering the castle, absorbed in old memories and fighting back tears. By dinnertime, his whole body ached both physically and emotionally, and all he really wanted was a hot meal and a long, long rest.
He received neither. The castle’s kitchens were just as obliterated as the rest of the place. In one of the pantries he came across some not completely charred bread, salted pork, and ale so old he determined no one should ever drink it. He was so famished he consumed it anyway.
As for sleep, he’d nearly returned to Ceere to find a room for the night when a young man ran up, a servant in Amroth’s new residence by the look of him. The man bowed deeply to Balear, saying, “King Angustion sent me to find you. He commands all Castle Guard members to meet with him immediately.”
The order unsettled Balear. After the display that morning, he had no desire to see the king just now. Then again, that outburst was probably all the more reason not to keep him waiting.
The servant led the way back to the house and ushered Balear into one of King Angustion’s chambers. With the sun fully set, the room had a morbid feel to it, lit only with candles on tall, narrow sconces. Balear gulped, not just at the setting but at the small number of those gathered. Including himself, not even a dozen Castle Guard members stood before the king.
The moment Balear arrived, King Angustion began, his tone grave, “Look around, all of you. This is all that remains of the Castle Guard. This is all that remains of Lodia’s strength. Only you few, who were not at the castle when the Quodivar attacked, escaped with your lives.”
Balear glanced at the other men assembled, realizing that they all came from the same company, a group regularly detached to Ceere to monitor the docks. He wondered what each of those men felt at this moment, to have survived when so many others had fallen. He knew how he felt about it. If not for his loyalty to Lodia, he would have killed himself the moment he’d heard.
“Haldessa’s fall taught me a critical lesson.” The king met the eyes of everyone in the room, his words boring into them with cold intensity. “Lodia is weak. It has been weak for centuries. We pretended the Castle Guard was an army, but they never amounted to anything more than a minor militia barely able to defend itself. To be sure, we defeated the Quodivar and Yokai, but it cost us nearly all our strength. Our neighbors will not sit idly with us in such dire straits. They will attack unless we rebuild quickly!”
Balear frowned, not sure how to take King Angustion’s speech. He agreed that rebuilding the Castle Guard and Haldessa was a good idea, but he didn’t follow the king’s logic about the neighboring countries. Lodia had solid relations with all of them aside from the Kodamas, and they never left their forest anyway. Even in Lodia’s weakened state, it was hard to see any of the surrounding nations as dangers.
“But we must do more than rebuild,” King Angustion continued. “We must make ourselves stronger than ever before. Therefore, these are my orders. Travel throughout Lodia and spread my edict that all young, able-bodied men are hereby immediately drafted into Lodian military service. They shall come to Haldessa, where I will personally train them. We will have a grand army of Lodia! No one will stand against us, because our numbers and skill will make any potential adversary quiver in fear!”
Glancing around, Balear could see the other Castle Guard members looked as uneasy about the king’s decision as he was. None of the history books recalled a time when Lodia possessed such an army, nor had any king instituted a draft in the country’s written history.
“My liege,” the head of the Ceere detachment spoke up, his voice trembling, “what is the purpose of this army? Do you intend to attack another nation?”
King Angustion gave the man a look of such withering contempt that Balear flinched, remembering the fireball from earlier that day. “Its purpose does not matter. I am the king, and you shall obey or be found guilty of treason! You do not understand the peril surrounding us. Thanks to Balear’s failure,” he turned his harsh gaze to the sergeant, “both Rondel Thara and Iren Saitosan remain at large. These traitors seek to poison our neighbors against us.”
Though he looked like he might wet himself, the Ceere company leader dared to open his mouth once more, “Great king, do you really believe these criminals pose such a danger? After all, they are just two people and—”
He never got to finish his sentence, because in that moment, King Angustion flicked his hand at the man. A jet of flame shot forth, igniting the soldier’s clothes. The poor man screamed and fell to the floor, writhing as he tried to douse the flames. No matter how he rolled, however, they would not abate. The fires burned until his flesh caught as well. Balear turned away, unable to watch as the soldier’s cries gradually faded. When he dared look again, he immediately wished he hadn’t. Where the man had stood less than a minute ago, only ash remained. The other Castle Guard members stared in horror at their king. Balear felt the urge to vomit on the spot, the spoiled ale in his stomach not helping matters.
“Let those who would resist the draft know that this is the penalty of disobedience. I will not suffer any insubordination.” King Angustion let his words hover in the air alongside the acrid smell of burnt flesh. He then took a seat on his high-backed chair and gave a dismissive wave of his hand. The meeting was over.
The remaining soldiers tripped over themselves getting to the door, all but one. Balear hung back, some strange force holding him in place. He longed to question his new king, to demand why the man he loved and admired would do such a vile thing, yet he dared not. To question the king was, as his liege had made quite plain, equivalent to treason and punishable by death. Besides, although the
king might use brutal tactics, Balear reminded himself that Azuluu’s luxuriant ways hadn’t made Lodia secure. On the contrary, they had led to its near destruction. Perhaps this new approach, violent though it may be, was the right way to protect Lodia.
He’d just made up his mind to leave when King Angustion barked, “Wait, Balear.”
Balear knelt before the king, his head bowed and eyes downcast. “How may I serve?”
“You will not leave with the other Castle Guard members. I want you to remain in Ceere with me.” Balear dared a glance up, and for a moment he saw a shred of his former commander, a reassuring smile on his battle-weary countenance. “You are, without a doubt, the most skilled and devoted soldier I have. I need valuable men like you for the battles to come. When Rondel and Iren attack us, we must be prepared.”
Balear couldn’t say for sure about Rondel, but he had his doubts about Iren. He still couldn’t get Iren’s last words to him out of his head. All the same, he had no intention of voicing those concerns. He enjoyed breathing too much. Instead, he said, “You honor me, King Angustion. I look forward to protecting Lodia alongside you.”
The king nodded, apparently pleased. “When the new recruits arrive, they’ll be green and vulnerable. They won’t last five minutes against Kodamas or Tengu, or even the hardened seafaring humans of Tacumsah. They can become an invincible force, but to do so, they will need extensive training. Such an undertaking is too much even for me. I need a second-in-command. This person must possess absolute loyalty. He must inspire the troops and carry out my orders unquestioningly to lead us to victory. Balear, I would like that person to be you. As a reward for your loyalty, I hereby name you General Balear Platarch, head of the First Army of Lodia.”
The new general prostrated himself, murmuring his humble acceptance. When it became clear the king had nothing more to say, Balear begged permission to leave. He received only a curt nod in reply, but he considered that more than enough. He rose and departed as quickly as he dared.
The Wings of Dragons: Book One of the Dragoon Saga Page 19
