Dragons and Destiny

by Candy Rae

  It was a quarter candle-mark after the fifth when Crown-Prince Paul handed over a glass of mulled wine to his visitor.

  “You’ve intrigued me,” he said to Peter Duchesne. “Why do you think that this Larg attack will be any different?”

  “My Prince?”

  “Call me Paul, we’re on our own, we’re friends and it becomes very tedious having the appellation Prince attached every time someone speaks to me.”

  “I couldn’t possibly.”

  “Let protocols go hang,” said Paul with some heat, “try it out, Paul’s an easy name to remember.”

  “Where to begin My … Paul,” said Peter. “Have you read any of the volumes written by Tara Sullivan, ‘Tales of Rybak’ in particular?”

  “When I was a boy, but why?”

  “There is a story in one of the volumes, an old Lindish fable about creatures that arrived from outer space and taught the Lind how to talk and of how these creatures, the Lind call them the Lai, continue to watch over them.”

  “I suppose you’re going to tell me that the fable is nothing of the kind and that they exist,” laughed Paul. “Pull the other leg why don’t you.”

  “Well My … Paul, actually I am. It is true. They do exist.”

  “The wine must have addled your wits.”

  “On the contrary, I am sure that the Ryzcka who visited me was telling the truth.”

  * * * * *

  Zilla

  Zak Talanson ran as fast as his legs could take him up the hill from the town to the inn. He shoved open the side door with scant attention to who might be passing, so eager was he to shout out his news.

  “You’ll never guess,” he called out, “muster’s been called.”

  “What?” shouted his father, his head emerging from the wine cellar door. “Muster? I don’t believe you.”

  “Its true Father,” answered Zak with suppressed excitement. “I met Joh Smithson at the market and he told me. The Militia is to muster in the town hall at Sixth Bell and we’re marching out at once.”

  Talan frowned, “now see here Zak,” he began, “you’re going nowhere. I need you. I didn’t mind you joining the Militia with your friends and going to drill every tenday but I’ll not countenance any more and you know it.”

  Zak shook his head, “I’ve got to go Father, don’t you see? Joh said it’s a real muster. I don’t have any choice.”

  “I’ll see about this,” declared Talan darkly, taking off his apron and hanging it on a nearby hook. “You’re not real soldiers, none of you are. You march up and down drill night a few times, play about with a sword then decant to the pub. You’re of far more use here. None of the beacons are lit or I’d have heard. No pirates are attacking that I know of. The Larg can’t get here, the defences at Settlement are too strong, there’s enough been spent on them.”

  “I am going.”

  “Stuff and nonsense,” scoffed Talan, picking up coat and hat and putting them on. “You get the ale barrels ready for opening bell. I’m going into town to find out what this is all about.”

  Zak watched him leave, shrugged and ignoring his father’s order ran three at a time up the stairs to his room where he kept his uniform, including helmet, sword, leather neck and shoulder protectors that were standard issue in the Argyll Militia. As Zak readied his uniform, cursing when he found that the thongs that kept the protectors in place were all tangled up, Talan was walking with rapid steps down the hill towards the town hall where he intended to put a stop to Zak’s madness.

  Zilla heard Zak as he rootled round at the bottom of his wardrobe for the rest of his kit and wondered what was happening.

  “Zak?” She knocked on his door. “It’s me, Zilla. May I come in?”

  “Course,” Zak called back and Zilla’s blonde head appeared.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Militia has been called up,” answered Zak, thrilling with excitement. “We’re marching out.”

  “Where to?” Zilla enquired.

  “Don’t know yet,” he answered.

  “You’re enjoying this,” she accused. “How long do you think you’ll be away?”

  “Couple of tendays at most.”

  “Couple of tendays.” exclaimed Zilla, “and who is going to do all the heavy work around here while you’re gone? You and half the outside staff are with the Militia.”

  “You’ll have to manage the best you can. I’m going and that’s that, despite what Father says. It’s the best thing that’s happened to me for a long time.”

  “You hate it here, don’t you?” asked Zilla.

  “As usual, your intuition is quite correct,” he answered, quirking an eyebrow at her. Zilla entered the room, closing the door behind her, all her exasperation at the extra work evaporating in a flash.

  “Tell me,” she encouraged.

  “I’ve no time. I’ve got to get ready,” he dissembled. He wasn’t sure he wanted his baby sister to be the repository of all his inner angst.

  “I’ll help you get ready,” she said, “if you tell me about it. Zala used to tell me things when I was little. Everyone tells me their problems eventually, Mother says I’m a good listener, she calls it a gift. Tell me what’s troubling you Zak. If I can help I will.”

  “You’re not to tell anyone else,” he warned.

  “I never do,” she answered with a gentle smile, “Mother says that’s another of my gifts though I don’t see how. I suspect she was trying to make me feel better when she said it. You see, everyone else, you, the others, they have careers, Zala has her family, everyone has something important to do except me.”

  “That’s what you think,” murmured Zak.

  “That’s what I did think about you, until now, but you’re not happy here, are you?”

  “No, I’m not,” admitted Zak, “not for a long time.”

  “Tell me.”

  “No one asked me,” said Zak, sitting on his bed and gazing up at the ceiling. Zilla curled herself up at the bottom of the bed and composed herself to listen.

  “I suppose really it’s because I’m the eldest and the only boy but I wasn’t asked if I wanted to stay here and learn how to run the inn. Zala understood, at least in part, she was going to ask Matt if there was an opening for me with his father’s business but she forgot.”

  “Her first baby did arrive soon,” said Zilla.

  Zak nodded.

  “And Tala is at Stewarton doing what she wants to do and here I am, good old Zak, morning, day and night, moving ale-barrels and mopping up spills. The only break I ever get is on Militia nights. That’s where my friends are, not here.”

  “I understand,” said a sympathetic Zilla and Zak looked at her. She had always been the most outwardly childish of the triplets but now he realised she had more common sense than the other two put together. When Hilla had left for the Garda and Rilla for the Vada, Zilla had continued, quietly doing the tasks that fell to her lot, never complaining.

  “Are you happy Zilla?” he asked.

  It was Zilla’s turn to shrug. “I don’t think about it very much, thinking can’t change anything.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  Zilla hadn’t finished, “what can’t be cured must be endured,” she continued, “if you don’t like the way it is you have to have the guts to do something about it, like Tala and Hilla and even Rilla though I don’t think she had much choice in the matter once Zawlei appeared. You have the choice now, if you want to take it. You can go with your friends, with the Militia. Father can’t stop you, not really.”

  “Do you think I should go?” Zak felt that it was important that Zilla should have her say, at this the crossroads of his future.

  “I think you should,” she answered, “if you don’t you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

  “Father has gone into town to get me exempted from the call. He’ll do it too,” fretted Zak.

  “You don’t have to obey him. Do you? I mean, if you turn up at the hall with
the others and march out he can’t do anything about it.”

  “You’re right,” Zak answered. “I will go. It was just important that I listened to what you had to say. Thanks Zilla.”

  “Hope I never regret it,” she said with a hint of a smile. “Don’t go off and get yourself killed, that’s all I ask. I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself if you did but …”

  “I was going anyway?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about you?” asked Zak, “do you want to leave here?” He had never considered Zilla’s wants before.

  “Where would I go? What would I do?” she asked in a sad little voice. “Until a few months ago I never thought there might be a life for me outside Dunetown unless I got a husband.”

  “Like he tried to find Rilla?” teased Zak.

  She laughed, “he never knew her very well, did he?”

  “It might have worked out if Zawlei hadn’t appeared as he did. She might have been happy.”

  “Not deep down,” Zilla disagreed, “there’s more to Rilla than as a wife and mother.”

  “There’s more to you as well,” insisted a generous Zak.

  “Perhaps,” she smiled, “perhaps I don’t know what I want.”

  “Come with me, they will need nurses,” he urged but she shook her head.

  “I can’t. Mother needs me. With you gone she’ll need me all the more. Anyway, enough of my woes. I’ll help you pack. Have you got enough under-things and socks? Socks are important.” She got up and hunted in his drawer. “I darned those thick socks of yours the other day. Good, here they are.” She held them out.

  “They are beautifully darned, thank you,” he said. “You’ve done so much for me over the years and I’ve never thanked you before.”

  “Quiet good little Zilla,” she teased, “now, that’s it. She piled up the bundle of spare clothes on the bed. “That should do it. Your uniform?”

  “In the wardrobe.”

  “You get into it and pack away these clothes and I’ll go down to the kitchen and make some sandwiches. Goodness knows when you’ll next get a decent meal.”

  “Thanks,” said Zak with affection and gratitude.

  “I’d also make sure you’re gone by the time Father gets back. Say goodbye to Mother, she’s in the stillroom. I’ll bring your sandwiches to you there. Hurry up.”

  Zak did as she said, donning his black uniform with frantic haste and stuffing his clothes into the pack. He clattered down the stairs and made for the stillroom.

  Talan returned to the inn triumphantly clutching Zak’s exemption document. He was incandescent with rage when he found out Zak had already gone.

  “Father, be quiet,” Zilla insisted when Talan declared his intention of going back into town and forcibly removing Zak from the ranks. “Leave it be, don’t shame him in front of his friends. He’ll never forgive you.”

  Talan glared at her, speechless. This was a new side to Zilla. She had never argued with him before.

  “It’s not as if he’s going to actually be doing any fighting,” she continued, “it’s the Militia. He’s not in any danger. He’ll be back soon. It’s Hilla and Rilla who you should be worrying about.”

  “That’s all you know,” Talan growled, his shoulders slumping. “The Militia is not going to take up guard duty in an outlying spot as you fondly imagine. They’re marching east, to Settlement. The Larg are coming.”

  Zanda burst into floods of tears at this and Zilla was silenced, her face one of consternation and horror. That Zak would have gone anyway she gave not a thought.

  What have I done? He wouldn’t have gone if I hadn’t encouraged him. The Larg, after all these years. Her thoughts went to her sisters, Hilla in the Garda and Rilla in the Vada. Will they be in the thick of the fighting with Zak?

  Here she was, stuck at the inn and her sisters and brother were in danger.

  There must be something I can do to help. An idea began to form in Zilla’s mind.

  * * * * *

  Julia

  Great Andei’s pawprints! I am tired fit to drop. There weren’t enough bells in the day to do all that had to be done. The Stronghold was in ferment.

  With each bell more and more vadeln were reporting in from leave as well as the Ryzcks arriving from the surrounding area. Status reports … all the time.

  She had sent an exhausted Alyei to get some rest and had called into her offices some vadeln of the Fifty-first Ryzck to take over communications. They were doing shifts, four pairs at a time and even then there were not enough of them. She might have to take Ryzcka Niaill up on his offer of assistance from the First Ryzck.

  Groups of the Militia of Vadath were also appearing at the gates and the Ryzcka in charge of billeting was at his wits end as to where to put them all.

  No less than three Lindars were also expected come morning.

  “Get your vadeln rested and fed,” she told the Ryzcka of the Fourteenth, “then move out, along the coast to Settlement.”

  “Yes Julia,” answered Ryzcka Lainert. “There’s no room to swing a vuz here.”

  “Set up your dom in the woods above Battle Plain and wait for orders.”

  “Food?”

  “Supply are dealing with it. The first boat is already on its way. Supply Stations are stocking up. If you need any replacement equipment, take it with you. Alyei and I will be leaving here in two days with the cadets and the Fifty-first. We’ll set up advance HQ in the woods. You can start getting the shelters built. Yes?”

  This last was directed at yet another visitor who was standing at the door.

  “Susa, that’s the Forty-seventh coming in. They’re asking where they are to go. Even the salle is full to bursting.”

  There was no help for it.

  “Tell the cadets to double up in their cubicles,” Julia ordered. “It’s only for a couple of nights, they’ll manage.”

  The visitor nodded and departed. Julie’s gaze fell on Lainert again. “Better go see to your vadeln. I’ll try and make time for a chat before you go. If not, Alyei and I will see you in the east.”

  Lainert nodded and left.

  “Any word from the Avuzdel?” Julia called in the direction of the outer office where communications was based.

  “Nothing new Julia,” a disembodied voice shouted back.

  “Tell me as soon as news comes in. What about Field Marshall Johnson Jones? Has he been in touch?” For the life of her Julia couldn’t remember the names of the vadeln-pair allocated to the O.C. Garda.

  “Garda battalions are all heading towards Settlement,” the voice answered. “He’s commandeered every vessel that can float. Those closest are making their way to Settlement on foot and horse.”

  “The Council?”

  The disembodied voice laughed.

  “You don’t want to listen to what Paula has to say.” Paula was the vadeln who had been sent by Julia to keep an eye on what the Councillors were up to. “That Anders man is countermanding every order but few are paying much notice except for a few Militia commanders. None of the Garda nor the Navy. I don’t think you’re his most favourite person at the moment.”

  “As if I cared a whit,” Julia called back, “keep me informed of any developments.”

  “Wilco.”

  “One last question before I get some shut-eye. Any word from the south?”

  “Nothing,” another voice replied. “We think the Armageddon must be approaching the Murdoch coast by now. If Rand is on schedule he’ll reach Port Duchesne tonight. Any orders for Captain Hallam? It’ll be your last chance before he’s out of touch.”

  “They know what they must do,” Julia answered with a yawn. “Tell them good luck from me and Alyei.”

  “I will Julia.”

  “And tell Asya and Inalei to inform us when they land up the coast, the day after tomorrow sometime I expect.”

  “No problem Julia, now go get some rest.”

  * * * * *

  Rilla

  “We’re le
aving Vada tomorrow,” Shona announced as she plonked herself down in the jam-packed cubicle that she and Danei were sharing with Rilla and Zawlei.

  All the cadet duos were doubling-up to make room for the vadeln-pairs who were reporting to Vada in response to the muster. So crowded was the Stronghold that meals were being served in shifts and it wasn’t possible to know when luncheon ended and evening meal began.

  The cooks were correspondingly tired and irritable and the cadets with cookhouse chore duty had begun to dread the bells spent there.

  Shona looked at her hands with a rueful expression. They were all white and wrinkled.

  “I must have washed hundreds and hundreds, if not thousands of dishes today,” she complained, “thank the lai I’ll not need to go back.”

  “My chore bells weren’t much better,” said Rilla who was hot, tired and dusty. She and Zawlei had spent the afternoon out with the Commissariat helping to gather in some of the more distant herds of kura. She wanted food, a bath and a rest, not necessarily in that order and was not altogether pleased to hear Shona’s news. It would mean a frenzied night packing and preparing for the journey.

  She was sitting on her bed mending one of the leather straps of Zawlei’s harness which has strained and snapped during the afternoon’s exertions.

  “Who says so?” she asked.

  “I overheard Weaponsmaster Jilmis talking to Weaponsecond Fastia,” she explained, sitting down on the temporary bed affair that was hers; they were in Rilla and Zawlei’s cubicle, “he told her to order the cadets off all chore duties and to start getting us ready.”

  “Are we all going?” She tested the leather by the simple expedient of tugging it hard from each end.

  “Second, Third and Fourth Stripes are and a good many of the Firsts. Not the recently paired of course. They stay here and take over message running. I heard Jilmis say he wasn’t happy about it but that every cadet pair with the necessary training was needed.”