Rage of the Dragon dov-3

by Margaret Weis

  Sund shrugged his heavy shoulders. “I did not bring you here to hold discourse with you, Daughter. I brought you here to tell you what you are going to do.”

  Aylaen shook her head. “My small mortal eyes may not be able to see into the future, but I know that if I was meant to do what you are going to tell me to do, you would not need to tell me to do it.”

  Owl Mother chuckled. Sund’s gaze roved through the future, always searching and sifting through the myriad threads of the wyrds of men and gods.

  “You know where to find two of the spiritbones of the Vektia dragon. You will be given the opportunity to obtain a third. You will take the two you have now and destroy them. You will destroy the third should it come into your possession.”

  “Destroy them!” Aylaen repeated, not believing she had heard him right. “The Vektia bones hold the power of creation. If I destroy them I destroy the ability of the gods to create!”

  “Precisely. And lacking that power, Aelon and the Gods of Raj will grow bored and depart. They will leave the world once more to us. If you attempt to use the Five, you will lose control. Torval, Vindrash, all of us will be destroyed. Aelon will gain control of the power of creation. And the first thing he will do with it will be to slaughter you and your people.”

  Aylaen was distracted by Owl Mother, who was seated at the table, playing with a small wooden spinning top, a toy made to entertain small children. Owl Mother gave the top a twist with her hand and set it spinning on the table. The top spun and spun and then began to slow down and wobble. Finally, it fell over, rocked for a moment on its side, and ceased to move. Owl Mother folded her hands in front of her and winked at Aylaen.

  Sund was not watching Owl Mother, yet he saw her, for he scowled. Owl Mother rolled her eyes and twiddled her finger around her head.

  “That is one future,” Aylaen argued. “One among the many.”

  “No, Daughter,” said Sund, “it is the one.”

  Sund’s roving eyes rested on her at last. She looked into the wide and terror-filled eyes and realized with shock that the god’s fear had driven him to madness.

  “I have tried to kill Ivorson and thus far I have failed,” Sund said. “His wyrd is strong and Torval protects him. But though Skylan is the one who finds the Five, it is you who will use them.”

  Sund clenched his fist. “Promise me that you will destroy the Vektia bones, and all will be well between us!”

  “I cannot make such a promise,” said Aylaen, trembling.

  “Know this, then, Daughter,” Sund said, his voice deep and shaking with rage. “If you bring the power of creation into the world, you yourself will lack it. Your womb will be barren. No children will be born to you! This I have foreseen.”

  “You are mad!” Aylaen cried.

  “Your sister, Treia, is carrying Raegar’s child,” Sund continued relentlessly. “Her son will become Emperor of the Oran nation. Her son will grind his boot into the necks of the Vindrasi. I know this. I have seen it all. This is what will come to pass if you do not destroy the Five!”

  Aylaen shrank away from him. She had to hold on to the back of the chair, where the seagull had perched, to keep from falling.

  “Ivorson says his son must be born in honor.” Sund gave a hollow laugh. “His son will not be born at all! His seed will fall on dry, cracked ground.”

  Aylaen could not bear to look at him and she covered her face with her hands. The baby dragon hissed in fear.

  “Many wyrds,” Sund shouted. “Many wyrds wrapped together into one doom…”

  And then all was quiet.

  Slowly, Aylaen drew back her hands. Owl Mother let fall the tapestry. The god was gone.

  “He is mad,” said Aylaen.

  Shivering uncontrollably, she moved her chair closer to the fire. The dragon edged over to make room for her. Owl Mother took off her shawl and draped it around Aylaen’s shoulders.

  “Sund was distraught over the death of the Sea Goddess’s sister, Desiria,” said Owl Mother. “He foresaw her death and he tried to warn Torval and Vindrash and the other gods, but they would not listen. They believed they were invincible…”

  “Will what Sund threatened come true?” Aylaen asked, chilled. “Will I be barren?”

  Owl Mother filled a horn with mead and handed it to Aylaen.

  “Drink this,” said Owl Mother. “I will cast the rune stones.”

  Aylaen drank the sweetly bitter mead and warmth returned to her body. Owl Mother drew from her belt a tattered and greasy leather pouch, opened the pouch, and took out six stones worn smooth from much handling. On one side of each stone was a rune. The other side was blank. Each of the six runes had meaning and were read together to reveal the future. Owl Mother dumped out the stones on the table and began to mix them with her hand.

  Aylaen stirred in her chair.

  “I only want to find my way home,” Aylaen said.

  “You know the way,” said Owl Mother.

  Aylaen realized she did know the way. Why then did she feel lost?

  “If Sund, a god, cannot see the future, how can a bunch of rocks predict it?” Aylaen asked.

  “Close the door tight when you go,” said Owl Mother, mixing the stones. “Or else the wind blows it open.”

  Aylaen gazed down at the stones on the crude, rough-hewn table polished by loving hands rubbing oil into the wood.

  Owl Mother indicated the stones with a nod. “Pick them up. And cast them down.”

  Aylaen hesitated, then did as she was told. She held the stones tightly for a moment, then threw them onto the table with a jerk.

  “Humpf,” said Owl Mother. “Never seen that before.”

  Five of the stones came up blank. Only the sixth had fallen rune-side up.

  “What does that mean?” Aylaen asked nervously.

  “Only one choice brings victory,” said Owl Mother. She pointed to the sixth rune. “That is the rune for Death.”

  “You talk in riddles,” said Aylaen shakily. She was sorry she had stayed. But still she did not leave. “Will I be barren?” she demanded. “The stones were supposed to tell me that.”

  Owl Mother shrugged. “The stones have said all they can say. If they didn’t answer your question that was because you didn’t ask it. And now the vision is ended. You must go.”

  “Vision? What vision?” Aylaen asked.

  Owl Mother took hold of Aylaen’s elbow and steered her toward the door.

  “This isn’t a vision,” Aylaen protested, frightened. “I’m home. I want to see my mother.”

  Owl Mother yanked open the door. A gust of cold air blew inside. The dragon whimpered in displeasure and curled up tightly, tail wrapped around her nose. The seagull swooped down from the rafters, flying so near Aylaen’s head she ducked with a startled cry. The seagull sailed into the wind and perched in a tree. Aylaen shivered with the cold.

  “I can tell you this much,” said Owl Mother. “Sund seeks to frighten you. Have faith in yourself and in that young hothead, Skylan. So far he’s turned out better than I imagined.” Owl Mother gave a shake of her head as though finding that hard to believe.

  Owl Mother raised a gnarled finger. “And remember this, child. Love is never barren. Now before you go, give me back my shawl.”

  Aylaen unwound the shawl and handed it to Owl Mother. The old woman shoved Aylaen out the door, then shut it with a bang that woke her.

  * * *

  Skylan lay in his bed in the small room they had given him. Wulfe was in the room with him, curled up in a corner, sound asleep, feet and hands twitching. Skylan was wide awake, gazing into the darkness that for him was as bright as sunlight with happiness.

  Aylaen loved him. She was to be his wife.

  Skylan closed his eyes and he could still see the sunlight that seemed to glow throughout his being. He pictured their children. Their firstborn would be a son. They would name him Garn. He would have his mother’s red hair and his father’s fighting spirit. Skylan would teach his son how t
o use a sword and shield, how to take his place in the shield wall. He would teach his son to hunt, sail, and fish. He would teach his son, too, how to be a good chief. Skylan imagined his joy as he laid his newborn son in his grandfather’s arms, beseeching Norgaard’s blessing. Such a moment would help make up for the pain Skylan had brought his father.

  Their second born would be a daughter. She would be a redheaded, saucy little imp who could reduce him to pudding with a look from her green eyes. They would name her Dawn and he would teach her to fight, as well, for women must know how to defend their home and children. His little daughter would nestle in his arms and fall asleep with her curly head on his breast. She would be as beautiful as her mother and as brave and courageous. The young men would be wild about her, but she would scorn them all. And when the time came for him to give her to another man-though Skylan could not imagine there would be any man worthy of her-she would hold fast to Skylan’s arm and whisper that she would always love her father best.

  And at night there would be Aylaen. She would be there to love him, to tease him, to chide him and scold him. And at the end, Aylaen would hold him in her arms as his eyes closed upon the world. He would wait for her in Torval’s Hall. The afterlife would hold no joy until she was with him.

  Wulfe gave a violent sneeze that jolted Skylan from his dreams. Smiling, he rolled over and went to sleep.

  * * *

  Owl Mother sat in her cabin. The baby dragon lay at her feet. The seagull perched upon the arm of her chair.

  “You gods,” Owl Mother grumbled. “You’re all mad, as far as I’m concerned. Is it any wonder I would rather spend my time among the fae? They know how to enjoy life.”

  “They will not enjoy life if Aelon takes control of the world,” said Akaria. “We gods put up with their nonsense. Aelon will not. He views them as dangerous.”

  “He views you as exceedingly dangerous, Owl Mother,” Vindrash added. “I wish you would come to live with us in Torval’s Hall.”

  Owl Mother snorted. “Maybe in the old days, when Torval knew how to throw a feast. Not now. His gloom turns the ale sour.”

  The dragon smiled and rested a clawed foot gently upon Owl Mother’s boot.

  “I thank you for warning us of Sund’s scheming, Owl Mother.”

  “I still think we should have stopped him,” said Akaria with a vicious snap of her seagull beak. “We should not have let him threaten the mortal. Aylaen will give in to her fear and all will be lost.”

  “We needed to hear what Sund had to say,” Vindrash said, adding with a sigh, “He may be mad, but he still sees the future. I have faith in Aylaen. She will be a worthy guardian of the Five.”

  “I am not impressed,” said Akaria dismissively.

  “The two of you must go,” said Owl Mother, pushing herself up out of the chair. “Some of us have work to do. I have a sick calf to tend to at the Jorgeson’s.”

  She began to gather together her stock of herbs and poultices. The two goddesses, in their true forms, gazed down at the casting stones that still lay where they had fallen on the rough-hewn table: five blank and one marked with Death.

  “What do you suppose it means?” Vindrash murmured.

  “That a bunch of rocks cannot predict the future,” said the Sea Goddess.

  CHAPTER 27

  Aylaen sat on her bed, watching the coming of day, hearing Sund’s words.

  Destroy the spiritbones …

  The Vektan Torque. Made of solid gold, adorned with jewels, the torque had been given to the Vindrasi people centuries ago by the hand of the Dragon Goddess, Vindrash. The torque was the most valued treasure the Vindrasi possessed. Countless warriors had given their lives to protect it. Skylan had fought an ogre-chief to keep it. Aylaen imagined taking a hammer to the torque, smashing the spiritbone of the Vektia dragon, pulverizing it, crushing it to dust and scattering the dust to the winds. She might as well smash the heart and soul of her people.

  “I can’t do it,” she said softly.

  Yet … to be barren! To never give Skylan a son to bring him honor, a daughter to bring him joy. And there was her sister, pregnant with Raegar’s son! A son destined to grow up to rule the Vindrasi!

  Aylaen pressed her hand on her belly, her fingers clenched.

  Owl Mother might say love was never barren. Skylan would love her. Aylaen was certain of that. He would always love her, but he would be unhappy that she could not give him children. He would never say anything to hurt her, but she would see the pain in his eyes when he watched other fathers playing with their children. He had already fathered sons, so he would know that she was the one at fault. If Aylaen was barren, Skylan was entitled by law to take a son by another woman into his home.

  Aylaen was jolted from her unhappy reverie by the door opening. She had the impression that someone had been knocking for a long time. She rose to her feet.

  “I thought perhaps you were asleep,” said the servant. “The Queen summons you.”

  “Thank you. I will come now,” said Aylaen, hastily wiping her eyes.

  She glanced at Skylan’s door as she passed, thought of saying something to him. She decided to let him sleep. He would want to come with her and she was not yet ready to face him. She had to decide what to do.

  The servant did not take Aylaen to the throne room, as she had expected, but outside the castle to the garden. She found the Queen on her hands and knees, pulling weeds from the flower bed. Seeing her, Queen Magali rose and dusted the dirt from her hands and smiled at Aylaen’s look of astonishment.

  “I enjoy working with my flowers, watching them grow,” said Queen Magali. “They are like my children-”

  Aylaen felt a spasm of pain. She bit her lip. The Queen regarded her with concern. “Are you unwell?”

  “I had … a bad dream,” said Aylaen. She managed a smile. “I worked in the fields in my homeland.” She held out her hands. “These calluses do not come from fighting men with my sword. They come from battling weeds with a hoe.”

  Queen Magali laughed, then grew somber.

  “Come walk with me, Aylaen. I misjudged you,” she said. “I was too quick to believe Commander Neda when she told me you had come to invade our realm. I prayed to the Sea Goddess, Akaria. She and I have made a decision. We will not turn you or any of your people over to the priests of Aelon.”

  “I am grateful, Your Majesty,” said Aylaen. “Though I fear that this decision will mean war for your people. I am sorry to have brought this trouble on you.”

  “Trouble was here long before you came,” said Queen Magali with a sigh. “My cousin, Queen Thais, is ambitious. She has been promised rich reward by Aelon if she brings all the other cities under her sway. I fear war is inevitable. Which means that you and your friends are in danger. You should leave immediately. My warriors will escort you and your friends to your ship.”

  Queen Magali beckoned to one of the servants, then started to walk away. Aylaen stared after her in dismay.

  “Your Majesty, I cannot leave without the Vektan Torque,” said Aylaen. “The Torque belongs to my people. It is sacred to us.”

  Queen Magali turned to face her, her expression cold.

  “I have only your word for that,” she said. “My warriors found the Torque on the floor of the sea.”

  “I can explain what happened,” said Aylaen. “The ogres were going to attack Vindraholm. The former Chief of Chiefs was a coward. He bartered away the Torque to save his own life-”

  Queen Magali made a dismissive gesture. “I do not have time for bard’s tales. I have given you leave to go, Vindrasi Lady. You said you wanted only to return to your homeland. You are free to do so. But the Vektan Torque remains with me.”

  “Then so do we, Your Majesty,” said Aylaen angrily. “Those who came with us are free to go, but neither Skylan nor I will leave without the Torque.”

  “You are clearly troublemakers. Perhaps I should hand you over to Aelon after all,” said Queen Magali.

  “You mus
t do what you think best, Your Majesty,” said Aylaen. “The Vektan Torque belongs to our goddess and our people. I will not be like that coward Horg. I will not barter away the torque to save my own life.”

  Queen Magali raised an eyebrow. “The torque is sacred because it holds one of the spiritbones of the Five Vektia.”

  Aylaen blinked, not knowing what to say. She realized a moment too late that her very silence had spoken for her. She tried to repair the damage. “I … I don’t know what you mean, Your Majesty. I have never heard of the Five-”

  Queen Magali smiled. “Do not ever try to lie, Aylaen. You are no good at it.”

  Aylaen flushed and bit her lip. Queen Magali sat down on a bench made of bamboo. She motioned Aylaen to sit beside her. Aylaen did so, gingerly, warily, keeping her distance.

  “I did cast my net to ensnare you, Aylaen,” said Queen Magali. “Do not fear. You escaped. You chose to stay, rather than save yourself. That told me much about you.”

  “And why did you need to know anything about me?” Aylaen asked, annoyed and angry.

  “Because I have it in my power to give to you a trust sacred to my people,” said Queen Magali. “I had to know first if you were worthy of my trust. I know all about the Five spiritbones of the Vektia. I hold one of them in my care. For many generations, the Queen of the City of the First Daughter has kept the spiritbone safe. The First Daughter was the Sea Queen’s eldest child and she passed the spiritbone to her daughter and so on down through the generations. But now war is coming to the twelve cities. We will fight, but we are not strong. Many of the other cities are allied against us. If we fall, the spiritbone might end up in the hands of Aelon.”

  The Queen fixed with Aylaen an intense, penetrating gaze that seemed to turn Aylaen inside-out, lay all her secrets bare.

  “The Sea Goddess has given me permission to send the spiritbone with you,” said Queen Magali. “Will you pledge to keep the spiritbone of the Sea Goddess safe?”

  Aylaen could not speak. Her chest was tight, she couldn’t breathe for the pain. She closed her eyes for a moment. There had never truly been any doubt. Just one little selfish qualm and that was soon over.