Battle Mage

by Peter Flannery

  Slowly the dragon rose to its feet and moved towards him, watching as Falco fastened the chin strap of his helm. The dragon loomed over him then bent its head to examine Falco more closely, sniffing at the steel helmet and armour.

  ‘Yes,’ said Falco, feeling strangely self conscious. ‘We can take our armour off.’

  He stumbled back a step as the dragon tested one of its horns against his chest; the sound was more like metal on metal than steel against something organic. Once again he reached out to place a hand on the dragon’s jet black scales.

  ‘Like obsidian,’ he thought and the dragon drew back to look at him.

  Falco found images of the black volcanic rock flashing through his mind and he felt the dragon’s curiosity as something like a name began to form. He had the sudden insight that dragon’s did not use names for each other. Such things were purely a human need.

  ‘It’s what we do,’ said Falco, surprised at how natural it felt for him to be addressing a dragon. ‘I’ll have to call you something,’ he mused and the dragon stared at him as if it had some understanding of what he was trying to say. ‘I mean, what would you call me?’ he asked.

  Of course the dragon did not answer in words. Instead Falco’s mind was suddenly filled with a swift burst of emotions and images. The experience left him reeling from its force. It would be impossible to express it effectively, but if it could be translated into human words it might be rendered as, He That Burns With Grief.

  Falco bowed his head in humility.

  ‘For us, names gain strength and meaning as we come to know a person,’ he said and the dragon looked down at him with a proud and wary expression.

  Falco gazed at the dragon’s shining black scales and the obsidian sheen of the horns that curved out from its head.

  ‘Sidian,’ he said softly as if testing the way the word sounded when spoken aloud. ‘Yes. That will do,’ he added and the dragon angled its head. The haughty expression on its face softening ever so slightly as it deigned to accept so crude a thing as a name.

  Falco smiled as if they had finally been introduced, but then the dragon stiffened and turned its head, its nostrils flaring as it scented something on the air. Falco turned to follow the direction of its gaze. Veils of mist and low cloud still drifted across the mountains but through the gaps they could see the city of Wrath in the distance. For a moment Falco saw nothing amiss, but then he noticed the plumes of smoke rising up from the landward side of the city.

  There was no way he could know for certain but instinct told him that the fires had something to do with the magi and the secret they had kept from the people. There was trouble afoot and it was time for him to return to the city.

  He looked out over the impassable terrain that lay before him and wondered how on earth he was going to get down. Then slowly he turned to look at the dragon standing beside him. With a sudden sense of anticipation he found himself wondering if a black dragon could fly as well as a younger dragon like Ciel.

  Sidian gave him a distinctly affronted look as images of an amber dragon and sunset skies played across his mind. Angling his body towards Falco he lowered his wing and looked at him expectantly.

  Falco swallowed a sense of nervousness, his heart suddenly hammering in his chest. Easing the stiffness from his body he slipped his arm through the shoulder strap on his shield and slung it across his back then using a rock for a boost he climbed onto Sidian’s back.

  The black dragon was a little bigger than Ciel but still its body was only about the size of a slender horse. Falco tucked his knees below the membrane of the dragon’s wings and felt the roll of its muscular shoulders as it walked to the top of the ridge. For a moment he stared down at the steep crags dropping away below them then Sidian spread his wings and turned his head to look back at him. Leaning forward Falco squeezed with his knees and gripped the ridges at the base of Sidian’s neck. The dragon’s scales seemed to shift beneath him, moulding themselves to the contours of his body.

  Just as they were about to go Falco felt the dragon hesitate, its body tense, its claws digging into the rocks and suddenly he understood. They were about to fly down to a city full of people, full of humans.

  ‘It’s all right,’ said Falco. ‘Not all humans are like the magi. And not all magi are like Galen Thrall.’

  An image of Thrall appeared in his mind and with it came a hot flash of anger, but the sense of his words seemed to reach the great black dragon and Falco tensed as Sidian dropped back on his haunches. Then he felt a stomach clenching lurch as the dragon kicked off from the ridge and dropped like a stone before spreading his wings and soaring away from the jagged cliffs. They streaked down into the steep sided corrie and swept over a turquoise tarn before the land fell away in a series of inaccessible cliffs and tumbling waterfalls.

  The wind roared in Falco’s ears, muffled only slightly by the padding in his helm. His eyes watered and his breath seemed to catch in his throat, but slowly he became accustomed to the exhilarating speed. Far below, the crags and hills went past in a blur as they descended quickly towards the city.

  As they drew closer he could see the mass of people swarming towards the mage tower. Even as he watched he saw distant figures appear on the steps of the tower. A few seconds later a bright ball of flame shot out towards the advancing crowd, but it only served to spur it on. The reality of what was about to happen was horribly clear and Falco knew that once the violence began it would be impossible to stop.

  ‘Faster,’ he thought, and with two rapid wing beats Sidian drove them on at ever greater speed.

  *

  Leading the knights up to a higher level of the plateau Malaki watched as the black gates of the tower opened and a line of warrior mages emerged onto the steps. He doubted that the magi would attack the people, but in such volatile circumstances it was impossible to be sure. Then, even as he tried to convince himself that they would not be so foolish, one of the warrior mages sent a ball of fire streaking from his hand. The attack struck the ground and exploded several yards ahead of the advancing mob. It was clearly intended to deter the angry crowd, but it had exactly the opposite effect. With a cry of outrage the people charged forward. Two more fireballs shot forth, but this time a number of civilians were thrown aside in showers of dirt and flame.

  Sweeping around the blasts the people in the front ranks surged forwards and Malaki suddenly realised that the mage tower was about to be overrun. More warrior mages emerged from the tower and it was clear that hundreds of people were about to die but then a ripple of fear ran through the crowd and people started pointing upwards.

  Malaki felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as a shadow swept across the sky. Glancing up he felt his heart quicken as a great black shape swooped down into the space between the tower and the wild advancing throng. The front ranks of the mob stumbled to a terrified halt as a huge black dragon landed before them. It reared up and spread its wings, staring down at them with a fierce, imperious gaze. And on its back was a rider clad in the unmistakable armour of Antonio Missaglias.

  83

  Le Cœur Noir

  Falco stared out through the T-shaped visor in his helm. He could see the fear on the faces of the people as they stared in awe at the mighty black dragon. His own heart was racing after the incredible descent from the mountains and he could feel the tension in Sidian’s body at being so close to a multitude of beings that he had hated for so long. Making an effort to calm his own breathing Falco tried to reassure Sidian that he had nothing to fear from the hordes of people now standing before them.

  The humans behind them, however, were a different matter and Falco turned to sweep his gaze over the warrior mages gathered on the steps of the tower. He could feel their fear and the nervous spikes of power as spells hovered on the edge of release. With newfound control he allowed his own power to rise in his breast, and such was the force of its dark luminescence that the warrior mages literally staggered back in dread.

  Falc
o’s gaze moved up to the magi gathered at the windows and balconies above them, the flesh of their faces blanched with shock. These men could meditate for a week and never match the power that he could unleash in a heartbeat. From his earliest memories Falco had been afraid of the magi, but now he had come of age and there was nothing left to fear from the shadow-hearted men in purple robes.

  Something drew his attention and Falco’s eyes alighted on the familiar face of Morgan Saker. His eyes were as black and implacable as ever, but the sense of utter conviction was gone. There was a crack in the Veneratu’s gaze and Falco knew he would spend the rest of his days riven by doubt and inescapable guilt.

  ‘That’s him!’ cried a mage to Saker’s right, a bald-headed man with a series of runes tattooed down the side of his face. Leaning over the balcony he stabbed a finger directly at Falco. ‘That’s the man who killed the Grand Veneratu! Little wonder a black dragon answered his black heart!’

  ‘Black heart!’ echoed a different mage.

  ‘Murderer!’ shouted another.

  ‘Shame!’ cried a fourth and several magi took up the cry of murder but then another voice echoed back from the walls of the tower.

  ‘Shame?’ cried Meredith as the Queen’s retinue finally broke through to the front of the crowd. ‘You talk of shame!’

  From her own black mount the Queen watched as Meredith slid down from his horse and turned towards the tower. With an impatient gesture he pulled off the palace guard’s cloak and threw it to the ground. A murmur of disquiet ran through the crowd at the sight of a mage within their reach, but by now they had all noted the presence of the Queen. For many of these common folk this was the first time they had seen their monarch up close and a ripple of whispers spread through the crowd as angry shouts were replaced by an expectant hush.

  Meredith’s face was as pale as the bandages wrapped around his head and he wavered slightly as he stumbled forward, but his voice was clear as he looked up into the collective face of the magi.

  ‘Traitor!’ called one of the magi, leaning from a window and Meredith turned to look at him.

  ‘You have the nerve to call me traitor,’ he said. ‘Are you really so blind to the wrong you have done.’

  ‘Kill them!’ called out a voice from the crowd and Meredith felt the mob’s anger surge like a wave about to break upon the tower.

  ‘They don’t deserve to live,’ cried another voice.

  ‘They betrayed us all.’

  ‘They deserve to die.’

  ‘Kill them!’

  The calls for retribution were gaining in voice and number.

  ‘You have no right to judge us!’ came the defiant cry from one of the magi.

  ‘No?’ queried Meredith, and behind him the Queen raised a hand to quieten the crowd. ‘What about the thousands of people camped around the city,’ Meredith went on. ‘The bereaved families, driven from their homes because we lacked the strength to stop the Possessed?’

  Up on the balcony the mage’s mouth drew a thin tight line, his chin sinking back into the folds of his neck as he gazed down at Meredith, unrepentant, arrogant to the last.

  ‘What about the battle mages whose dragons you have slain. Great souls betrayed and broken to protect your lies. What about them? Do they have a right to judge?’

  ‘Kill them!’ came the now familiar refrain.

  ‘Drag them out. Burn it down. Hang them all.’

  The ugly violence of the mob was beginning to rise once more and several magi ducked back from windows as stones began to smack and shatter against the dark walls of the tower.

  ‘No,’ said Meredith his voice now quiet. ‘Death and vengeance will only serve the enemy’s designs.’

  ‘We cannot leave them,’ said an elderly man from nearby. ‘We cannot trust them.’

  ‘Then we shall bind them,’ said Meredith and his voice had the dire tone of an executioner. ‘The magi are sworn to ancient bonds, oaths of unbreakable loyalty.’ His eyes were filled with such a dark light as to give even his father pause. ‘We shall forge a new oath. Not to the magi and the person of the Grand Veneratu, but to the people of Wrath, to their safety and solace.’

  ‘And what if we refuse to swear such an oath?’ asked the bald man with the rune decorated face. His words were directed to Meredith, but it was the Queen who answered.

  ‘Then you will be exiled to the Forsaken Lands, where you can throw yourselves upon the mercy of the Possessed whose mission you have served for the past four hundred years.’

  ‘We would never serve the Possessed,’ said one of the magi, an old man with white hair and a kindly face.

  ‘And yet you have,’ said the Queen and if they had doubted the certainty in Meredith’s voice then the cold dispassion of her tone left them in no doubt. This would not be the first time she had sentenced someone to death. And if the magi failed to swear an oath to the people of Wrath she would do precisely as she had said.

  ‘And what about him?’ asked the rune-faced mage. ‘What about the black hearted devil who killed the Grand Veneratu? What punishment will the Throne of Wrath visit upon him?’

  The Queen gave a sigh and turned to look at Falco who still sat astride the great black dragon. The plateau was embraced by silence as the people waited to hear what she would say.

  ‘As I understand it,’ she began. ‘The Grand Veneratu was himself about to commit murder when he was struck down. Battle Mage Danté was acting in defence of his dragon.’

  ‘And what about the hellish beast? You cannot leave a creature like that free to roam the world! It’s too dangerous... Something needs to be done!’

  ‘Yes it does,’ said the Queen and, turning away from the tower, she guided her horse towards the mighty black dragon.

  As they drew closer Souverain began to shy away and the people watched as the Queen dismounted to close the final few yards on foot. This was the closest she had ever been to a dragon and her heart was thudding in her chest as her vision was filled by the terrible beauty of the creature before her. Everything she had ever heard about black dragons spoke of violence, hatred and death and it was not easy to go against such preconceptions, but she was the Queen of Wrath and the magi were right... something needed to be done.

  Staring into the fierce golden eyes the Queen advanced until it could have taken her head with a single bite. For a moment she paused, overwhelmed by the dragon’s sheer presence. She thought of all the black dragons that had been slain at the behest of the magi, a crime of such proportions that she could barely comprehend it.

  Sidian looked down at her with an austere and quizzical expression as if he were trying to reconcile the vulnerable human body with the strength of the will he sensed within.

  The Queen held the dragon with her gaze and her deep blue eyes swam with tears.

  ‘Forgive us,’ she breathed and with that she swept back her cloak and dropped to one knee, head bowed in obeisance.

  *

  Falco looked down at the kneeling figure of the Queen. Beneath him he could feel Sidian’s rapidly beating heart and he waited to see what the dragon would do. For a moment Falco thought he might take flight and retreat from this unsettling scene but then, in the front row of the crowd, the old man who had spoken out followed the Queen’s example as he too knelt before the dragon. And that was that.

  Like a field of wheat bowing before a gust of wind the gesture spread throughout the crowd as two thousand people dropped to one knee and offered up their regret for the wrong that had been done to dragonkind.

  Falco’s heart swelled with emotion and he could feel the powerful effect this display of remorse was having on Sidian. Seeing movement near the tower he turned as several of the warrior mages put down their swords and dropped to their knees. More followed their example until only two remained on their feet, while at the balconies and windows of the tower many of the magi closed their eyes and bowed their heads as the realisation of what they had done began to dawn in their minds.

  *


  Sounds seemed to echo strangely in the Queen’s ears as she waited to see what the dragon would do. She was fairly sure that it would not attack her but she could not be certain. Suddenly she sensed movement and heard the faint sigh of the dragon’s scales moving against each other. A shadow loomed over her and she tensed, but then she held her breath and froze as the dragon laid its forehead gently against hers.

  Catherine de Sage closed her eyes as she felt the warmth of the dragon through the steel hard plates on its skull. She could feel its breath on her face, and she caught the vaguely spiced smell of earth and heated metal. She had met kings and princes and warriors of great renown, but she had never experienced anything like being in the presence of a dragon. She had been born into an ancient and royal family but never in her life had she felt so humble.

  As the dragon withdrew its head she looked up in wonder. So this was what it felt like to meet a dragon.

  *

  Falco watched as Sidian slowly lifted his head, still looking down at the woman kneeling before him. He knew what each was feeling and almost smiled at the similarity in their reactions, armoured scales or soft pale flesh, it was the soul within that mattered.

  Together he and Sidian gazed out over the sea of people bowed before them.

  Over to the right, on the slopes leading down to the Crofters’ cottage, he could see Aurelian and Dwimervane and for a moment Sidian’s gaze lingered on the crippled blue dragon. While, away to the left, Falco now saw the familiar figures of Malaki and Quirren, with Huthgarl and several of the other cadet knights.

  As he felt Sidian begin to shift beneath him, Falco gave his friend a nod and saw Malaki dip his head in response. Then he gripped the ridges at the base of Sidian’s neck and squeezed his knees against the dragon’s flanks. It was time for them to leave.

  The Queen came to her feet and held Falco’s gaze as the great black dragon slowly backed away. Looking into her deep blue eyes Falco felt as captivated as ever and he laid his right hand across his chest in salute, a gesture of respect and loyalty that the Queen returned.