Storm Riders

by Margaret Weis

  “How do I look?” he asked Stephano.

  “The admiral of the fleet pales by comparison,” Stephano replied. He looked at the crate and asked curiously, “What’s in there?”

  “Books. From my days at university,” Rodrigo replied. “Books on magic theory and philosophy. A little light reading for the voyage.”

  Stephano eyed his friend. “You’re up to something.”

  “Reading a book!” Rodrigo smiled. “How dangerous can that be? Now if I were writing one, that would be a different story. The scandalous tales I could tell…”

  They traveled to Argonne, where Stephano met with Captain Leydecker and Leutnant Baumann on board the Sommerwind to explain his plan that three dragons and their riders would escort the ship to Braffa. Once Captain Leydecker recovered from his astonishment, he had a great many questions: Where would the dragons sleep since the ship would not be stopping on the way, how would the dragons get along with his crew? Stephano explained that the dragons would take turns sleeping on the deck near the stern. As for the crew, they need have no fear. The days when dragons ate humans were long past.

  Captain Leydecker appeared dubious. He and Baumann walked to the bridge to hold a private conference. Stephano could not hear what they were saying, but Baumann appeared to be urging the captain to accept the dragons. Captain Leydecker was by nature a cautious man and he seemed to be having reservations. The lieutenant cast a glance toward the cargo hold and said something in low tones. The captain looked that direction, as well. Then he nodded and both men returned to Stephano.

  “We are agreed, sir,” said Captain Leydecker.

  They came to terms on payment, which was lower than what Stephano had hoped, but far more than he would have made otherwise. His only problem now was persuading Rodrigo to relinquish the gold epaulettes.

  “I will,” said Rodrigo, taking off the gold-trimmed coat with regret. “But please don’t tell my mother. She was so impressed when she saw me in my uniform. The dear woman thinks I’m finally going to amount to something. I would hate to disillusion her.”

  The next morning, the Sommerwind sailed with a fair wind, heading east for Braffa. Three dragons, with their riders, flew alongside.

  34

  To a dragon, a human guest is considered to be “a jewel upon the pillow of hospitality.” For those fortunate enough to be invited to spend time in a dragon’s household, they can look forward to days filled with splendor, music, art, and excellent conversation. I never spend my holidays anywhere else.

  —Contessa Christina Mandalay

  Sir Ander looked down with interest as he flew the yacht over the city of Ciel-et-terre, which could be roughly translated as meaning “Sky and Land,” so named because the city was built in the mountains and thus close to the sky. Ciel-et-terre was one of three cities in the dragon duchies where humans resided.

  Long ago, when the noble dragons first began to interact with humans, the dragons found much in the human culture they admired, particularly the arts. After visiting the grand palaces of their human counterparts, the noble dragons built palaces of their own, hiring human architects, crafters, and masons, and bringing them and their families to the dragons’ province of Ondea. The humans built their own town there, and as more and more humans came to offer their services to the dragons in return for dragon gold, the town grew to become one of the largest cities in Rosia.

  But that was in the past. Ciel-et-terre’s prosperity was now sadly at an end. The city was now practically deserted. Sir Ander looked down from the yacht on empty streets. No carts, no wagons, no people hurrying about their business. A single person walked across a plaza in front of a church.

  The yacht’s door opened behind him. Father Jacob looked out. “May I join you?”

  Sir Ander was pleased and relieved to see the priest. Father Jacob had spent much of their journey absorbed either in his thoughts or rereading Saint Marie’s book. He ate barely enough to keep body and soul together, and endlessly paced the deck of the yacht, back and forth, back and forth, his hands behind his back. Sir Ander calculated that Father Jacob was likely walking the same distance they were flying.

  “We are over the city of Ciel-et-terre,” observed Father Jacob, taking a seat beside Sir Ander.

  “It appears to be deserted,” Sir Ander commented. “What happened?”

  “King Alaric happened,” said Father Jacob drily. “His decision to disband the Dragon Brigade. Your godson, Stephano, was not the only human to be adversely affected by the king’s foolish act. The dragons as a nation were offended and angered. The noble dragons withdrew from court and went back to their own lands. In retaliation, they ordered humans to leave the dragon duchies.

  “Construction halted on the dragon palaces, workers and artisans were dismissed. Rumors began to circulate among the human population that the dragons were going to attack them. People fled and, with tensions still running high, they have not returned.”

  Sir Ander shook his head at the folly of both species.

  “Sounds like the situation was bungled from top to bottom. Who are these noble dragon friends of yours we’re going to visit?”

  “The duke and duchess of the Talwin clan, the largest and oldest of the dragon gatherings, named for the Tall Winds, the thermals that rise from the mountains. I was a guest in their palace many years ago, shortly after my arrival in Rosia. You know that I have always been interested in dragons and their history and religious beliefs. I spent several months with the duke and his mate pursuing my work in that field.”

  Sir Ander had never heard this. “So you fled your home to follow your faith, but you didn’t go to a monastery. You went to visit dragons.”

  “I was young. I had watched my mother die a horrible death. I had seen my faith maligned, my brethren persecuted. I was angry, unhappy, grieving. I had thought I would find peace in the church here. Instead, I found only more questions. I left to pursue my studies among the dragons.”

  “Did the dragons help you find your faith?” Sir Ander asked.

  “Heavens, no!” Father Jacob chuckled at the thought. “Dragons have their own religious beliefs that are quite different from ours. Dragons have no concept of God or the Evil One. They do not believe in an afterlife, no heaven or hell. Dragons believe in living life in the moment. Contentment is found in being at peace with oneself, accepting what life brings. The duke and duchess were very kind to me, very patient. For though dragons do not think as we do about religion, they have a deep fondness for theological discussions. They encouraged me to talk with them. I learned about myself from dragons.”

  They left the city far behind, flying over thick forests broken occasionally by large swathes of fields where the land had been cleared for farming. Father Jacob suddenly leaned forward and pointed. “The duke’s palace. Up ahead. You can see the walls.”

  Sir Ander landed the yacht in a field near the palace. Once the yacht was landed and secured and the wyverns fed and settled, Sir Ander and Father Jacob changed into their finest clothes. Father Jacob wore his black cassock and biretta, with a red sash around his waist. He rarely wore the sash, which he claimed restricted his breathing. He said the dragons would appreciate the formality, and so Sir Ander struggled into his dress uniform and polished his ceremonial sword for the occasion.

  The palace was the largest structure of any kind Sir Ander had ever seen, as well as the strangest. It was eight stories high, perhaps a mile or more in length, and looked as if it had been designed by an architect having an opium dream.

  The palace of the Duke and Duchess of Talwin was built to resemble the palaces of humans, though on a much larger and far grander scale. Unlike human palaces, dragon palaces did not act as fortresses. If the dragons ever felt threatened, they simply retreated to their ancient caves in the mountains. Dragons were fond of towers, crenelations, ramparts. They liked chimneys and gabled roofs, mullioned windows, stained-glass windows, arrow slits in the walls, columns, porticos, and gargoyles. Double doors,
single doors, iron-banded doors, so many doors Sir Ander had no idea which was the main door. Small doors for humans and doors for dragons that were forty feet tall.

  Father Jacob led his friend to the correct door, which was a door within a door. They rang a bellpull and it was as if all the church bells in Evreux began ringing at once. Every tower had its bell and every bell rang with a different timbre. The sound was wondrous, and Sir Ander listened, enchanted.

  They had no idea what sort of reception they would receive. Father Jacob had not sent word of his coming to the duke and duchess, fearing that a letter he wrote might be intercepted by the Arcanum.

  A young man answered the door. He was dressed in the bright colored tunic, garishly colored tights, and soft leather slippers of a jongleur. Father Jacob stared, startled. The jongleur invited them inside with a warm and engaging smile.

  “I just happened to be passing when I heard the welcoming bells. Come inside.” The young man waved his hand. “The duchess is in the main chamber. Go ahead and announce yourselves. I would do so, but I’m late for rehearsal.”

  The sounds of the bells faded away as the jongleur lightly ran off. Father Jacob and Sir Ander stood in the entryway, listening to the last echoes. Then the house was silent.

  “Things have changed since I was here,” said Father Jacob in regretful tones. “The duke and duchess had a staff of hundreds: footman, pages, cooks, servants, as well as artists, entertainers, musicians. Their home was filled with music and talking and laughter.”

  He sighed deeply, as Sir Ander stared at the large cavernous chamber, the vastness of which overwhelmed his senses.

  Enormous granite columns supported a cathedral-like ceiling beautifully painted with the cycle of a day, beginning with the portrayal of the sunrise in the eastern part of the castle, proceeding through to sunset and the night sky with the moon and stars. The real sun stone though hundreds of windows, casting hundreds of shafts of sunlight, all slanting down to illuminate the marble floors.

  Paintings decorated the walls. Sir Ander did not know much about art, but even he could recognize works by the masters. The dragons never used furniture, but they had thoughtfully provided furniture for their human guests. The tables, chairs, and sofas were all placed against the walls, to be out of the way of the dragons, along with pianofortes, clavichords, and harps. Trumpets and hunting horns hung on hooks on the walls. Hearing the sound of violins, he looked across the chamber to see four musicians playing their music for the entertainment of a large dragon, who had turned her head to observe her new guests.

  The dragon was about forty feet in height, and her scales were green, as were her wings and tail. She was an imposing sight.

  “Stop gaping,” said Father Jacob, latching on to Sir Ander’s elbow. “That is the duchess. I’ll introduce you.”

  “Father Jacob Northrop,” called the duchess, as they approached. “How good to see you again.”

  She dismissed the musicians, who departed with bobbing bows of respect.

  “I am pleased that Your Grace remembers me,” said Father Jacob. “Sir Ander Martel, I have the pleasure of introducing you to Her Grace, Drohmir, Duchess of Talwin.”

  “Sir Ander, you are most welcome,” said Drohmir in rich, melodious tones.

  Sir Ander made a deep bow, said he was pleased to make her acquaintance, and after that he was silent. Overawed by his surroundings and the regal dragon, he decided to leave the conversation to Father Jacob.

  “I regret that I could not send you advance notice of our coming, Your Grace.”

  “You are an old and cherished friend. Please do not concern yourself with such formalities, Father,” said Drohmir. “I am glad you came. Will you and your Knight Protector be staying with us? As you recall, we have rooms in the towers we make available to human guests.”

  “We do not want to inconvenience you, Your Grace. We will stay on our yacht, which is nearby.”

  Sir Ander was relieved. He could not imagine living in this lofty, drafty, cavernous palace.

  Drohmir lowered her head politely to be able to speak more comfortably to her human visitors, and turned her shining eyes to Sir Ander.

  “I am sorry you could not have visited us in better days, Sir Knight. We hosted a great many human guests. We had servants to wait upon them, cooks to prepare food for them. All that has changed. We have only a few guests these days, a group of traveling musicians and jongleurs. I have a fondness for music, as you may have gathered. Our guests wait upon themselves now, Father,” Drohmir added with a sigh.

  “We don’t mind, do we, Sir Ander?”

  “Not at all, Your Grace. If you would like, I could bring some chairs.”

  The dragon gave a graceful nod. Sir Ander carried over chairs for himself and Father Jacob and placed these in front of the dragon. The two men sat down. The dragon lowered herself to the floor and wrapped her tail around her feet. The floor shook as the dragon moved.

  “I hope that you plan to remain with us for some time, Father,” Drohmir said. “I do enjoy human conversation. The duke and I are very fond of each other, but after living together for two hundred years, we run out of things to talk about.”

  “I would like nothing more than to stay for an extended length of time, Your Grace, but we are here to meet with you and the duke on a matter of some urgency.”

  “The duke has gone to a gathering of the clans in the Oscadia Mountains, a supreme council. He does not plan to return for a week at least.”

  “I am sorry to hear this, Your Grace,” said Father Jacob, clearly dismayed. “My need to see the duke is very great. Can you send a message to him?”

  “Even if I could send a messenger, he could not leave a meeting of the supreme council, Father.” The duchess saw the priest’s unhappiness and she was distressed. “Is there anything I can do to assist you?”

  Father Jacob considered. “I hope you can, Your Grace. Shortly after the Dark Ages, a nun named Sister Marie Allemand came to visit here. Her arrival would have been before the duke was born. She would have been a friend of the duke’s esteemed parents.”

  “I do not recognize the name of this nun,” said Drohmir regretfully. “If the duke’s parents knew of her, they never spoke of her to me, nor did the duke. You could wait for his return…”

  Father Jacob shook his head. “There is not time, Your Grace. Lives are at stake.”

  “I am truly sorry, Father,” said Drohmir regretfully.

  Father Jacob’s brow furrowed. He rose to his feet, clasped his hands behind his back, and began to pace about the room.

  So we came all this way only to crash headlong into a mountain, Sir Ander reflected gloomily.

  The duchess observed Father Jacob with concern. The dragon was obviously distraught over having to disappoint her guest. Dragons pride themselves on their hospitality, considering nothing too good for those who visit them.

  “Father Jacob,” Drohmir said suddenly, “I’ve had a thought. The duke’s family retainer is still alive. He might remember this nun. His name is Vroathagn. He was retainer when you were here.”

  “I remember him,” said Father Jacob, pleased and relieved. “Vroathagn was an excellent manager. He had quite a gift for dealing with humans.”

  “He was a marvel. We have never found another dragon to replace him,” said Drohmir.

  “Vroathagn was quite old when I knew him,” said Father Jacob. “I am surprised he is still alive.”

  “He is a tough one,” said Drohmir. “He is crippled, however, and no longer able to fly. But his wits are sharp as a fang, as the saying goes. I will take you to him, if you would find that agreeable.”

  “I would like that immensely, Your Grace,” said Father Jacob.

  The duchess rose ponderously, carefully uncurling her tail, lest she accidentally knock over her guests. The sounds of violins started up again, this time from a different part of the palace.

  “What does a dragon retainer do?” Sir Ander asked Father Jacob in a low voi
ce as they moved their chairs back against the wall.

  “Much the same as their human counterparts,” Father Jacob answered. “They run the household, manage the business affairs of the estate. The retainer also acts as a diplomatic liaison between the human guests and their dragon hosts, settling misunderstandings, explaining the ways of dragons to humans and the ways of humans to dragons. That was quite important in the days when dragons would entertain human ambassadors, royalty, nobility, and high-ranking members of the church.”

  “You seemed surprised to find the duke absent. Do dragons often hold these supreme councils?”

  “No, they do not,” Father Jacob replied, casting Sir Ander a sharp glance. “A supreme council brings together the heads of all the clans. They hold such large gatherings only in times of crisis.”

  “Do you think this meeting has to do with the Bottom Dwellers?”

  “I would stake my hope of heaven on it,” said Father Jacob.

  Sir Ander and Father Jacob accompanied the duchess across the enormous chamber. On their way, they passed two of the musicians, young women, carrying what looked like their laundry. The women were in good spirits, singing songs as they went about their work. They paused to curtsy respectfully to the duchess and merrily greeted Sir Ander and Father Jacob. Obviously life among the dragons was still pleasant for these humans, despite having no servants to wait upon them.

  “The dragon clans meet so rarely, Your Grace,” said Father Jacob, advancing the length of her body to walk alongside her. “The duke and the other dragon clan leaders must have important matters to discuss.”

  Drohmir inclined her head in polite agreement. “These are troubled times, Father.”

  He waited for her to elaborate, but she said nothing more. She was uneasy, Sir Ander noted. He had to quicken his pace to avoid being swept away by her twitching tail.

  “You do not attend the council, Your Grace?” Father Jacob asked.

  “I invited the musicians to spend the summer,” Drohmir replied. “It would be impolite of me to leave my guests. The duke knows my views and he will express them for me. I do not enjoy supreme council meetings. I much prefer my music.”