Dragontiarna

by Jonathan Moeller

  “You and Sir Angaric will always be welcome in any lands held by the Count of Eichenfel,” said Sigurd. She glanced at her husband and smiled. Sigurd seemed to have picked up some of his sardonic manner. “After all, husband, I would not have lived long enough to present you with heirs had Sir Tyrcamber and Sir Angaric not rescued me from the Dragon Cult.”

  “For which you have my gratitude, sirs,” said Niamar.

  Tyrcamber decided to see if he could rattle Niamar’s control. “You did tell me you wished for a wealthy and powerful husband, my lady, and it seems that you found him.”

  Niamar grinned. “She did, didn’t she? I admit when the Shield of Falconberg proposed the match, I was skeptical. But then I met my lady Sigurd, and she proved to be most persuasive. And the match enraged my lord the Duke Cormarl.” His smile widened, and he lifted Sigurd’s hand and kissed her fingers. “I never thought love had a place in a lord’s marriage, yet here it is nonetheless.”

  She smiled back. “When you first told Duke Cormarl about the marriage, that’s when you decided that you loved me.”

  “Indeed,” said Niamar. “The Duke turned such an interesting shade of purple.”

  “But my congratulations to you, Sir Tyrcamber, on your marriage,” said Sigurd. The amusement faded from her eyes, and the keen, serious look Tyrcamber remembered from Falconberg returned. “When I heard that you had become a Dragontiarna, I confess that I was amazed…but not surprised. After all, the man who rescued me from the Dragon Cult could survive the ordeal of the Malison to become a Dragontiarna. But for you to wed the one other Dragontiarna in the Empire…surely such a thing must be the hand of God, for it is too unlikely to be a coincidence.” Her gaze turned to Ruari. “Is it true that you are unable to speak, my lady?”

  Ruari nodded. Tyrcamber had worried that she would be uncomfortable – Ruari generally did not like to socialize and preferred to remain working among the hospital tents – but she seemed more thoughtful than anything else.

  “You are welcome here as well,” said Sigurd. “I owe your husband a great deal. Please, if there is any service I can render for you, you have but to call upon me.” Ruari nodded again, and Sigurd smiled to Angaric. “I would make the same offer to you, Sir Angaric, but I suspect you enjoy yourself wherever you go.” Maybe she had overheard his system for ranking the beauty of women.

  Angaric offered a polite bow. “A man must make his way as best he can in this dangerous world.”

  “Are you truly from another world, my lady Selene?” said Niamar. “It is a strange thought, though I know our ancestors came here from Old Earth.”

  “It is not so strange since I experienced it firsthand a few weeks ago,” said Selene. “Merovech Valdraxis came to our world to claim an artifact called the Great Eye, a relic of the ancient elves. During the fighting, the Great Eye opened, and my cousin Third and I were drawn here. Since the Dragon Cult and the Fallen Order are creations of the Theophract and his master the Warden, Third and I decided to aid the Empire against the Order of Blood.” Selene grinned. “And since Third has become a Dragontiarna Knight, our aid will be all the more valuable.”

  For the first time, Niamar, Sigurd, and Rincimar all looked surprised.

  “Three Dragontiarna Knights?” said Rincimar. “Truly? Then God has indeed favored us. One Dragontiarna Knight slew the Valedictor and broke his siege of Sinderost. What could three do?”

  “Perhaps we shall find out,” said Niamar. “Which is why I asked you here, Sir Tyrcamber.” His dry smile returned. “No doubt you think this is part of my rivalry with Duke Cormarl. And obviously, it would be wise for my house to have a friendship with a Dragontiarna Knight.” His smile faded. “But I think we face a hidden threat from the Fallen Order, and Duke Cormarl refuses to take the matter seriously because of his hatred of me.”

  Tyrcamber shared a look with Ruari. She looked as puzzled as he felt.

  “Please explain,” said Tyrcamber.

  “I think you had best tell the story,” said Niamar.

  Rincimar nodded. “Very well. I am sure you recall that the Fallen Order started to build siege works around Sinderost during their attack.”

  “Aye,” said Tyrcamber. “I couldn’t understand why they bothered. Unless they sealed off both the city’s harbors, there wouldn’t have been any point to it. And they never sent any large forces across the River Bellex.”

  “I suppose Theudeuric built them as a fallback position,” said Selene. “A place he could retreat if another army attacked the Fallen Order without warning.” She shrugged. “You and the other western lords were marching to Sinderost, and so was Prince Everard’s army. Perhaps he feared that you would arrive sooner than he expected.”

  “I thought that as well,” said Angaric. “But the layout was wrong for fortifications, wasn’t it? It was like the undead of the Fallen Order were digging holes at random.”

  “Whatever the reason, they abandoned the siege and pulled back to Corbrast,” said Tyrcamber.

  “We’ll have a devil of a time there,” said Rincimar with a grim shake of his head. “The mountains of Corbrast are a good place for a defender, but bad for the attacker. Some of the castles in the mountains can be held by seven men with bows.”

  “Unless the attackers have a Dragontiarna Knight or two,” said Selene.

  “That would make matters different,” conceded Rincimar. “But the men of Falconberg and Count Eichenfel’s men marched with the army of the western Dukes. When we arrived, we arrayed ourselves to camp near the half-finished earthworks the undead of the Fallen Order had raised. The first night, we were attacked.”

  “Attacked?” said Selene, taken aback. “I thought the Fallen Order had withdrawn back to the north.”

  “They have,” said Angaric. “The bulk of their forces, anyway. But Theudeuric has kept scouting parties near Sinderost, no doubt to warn him when we move, and we’ve spotted some undead griffins in the air north of the city.” Tyrcamber remembered fighting the leathery, withered things over the battlefield, remember the icy touch of their claws raking against his scales. “No doubt he will want to know the minute we march from Sinderost.”

  “We fought off the raiding party,” said Rincimar. “But I commanded the men of Falconberg to move their camp so we would make use of the half-finished earthworks. The next night, we were attacked again by more undead, stronger ones. Wraiths and armored skeletons. And several muridach raiders as well.”

  “Muridachs?” said Tyrcamber, surprised. The muridachs had mostly stayed out of the Empire’s civil war, save to launch raids on the northern borders. The ratmen had come in large numbers to the Valedictor’s call, but after his death, the muridachs had remained aloof from the fighting.

  “Muridachs,” said Rincimar, voice grim. “I fought enough of the damned things in Corbrast as a lad, and we fought them in Falconberg, you’ll recall. I know a muridach when I see one. There was also a Knight of Blood with them. Those you cannot mistake for anything else, not with the gray skin and the blood-colored eyes. The Knight killed several good men, but I cut him down in the end.”

  “I fear you may have the chance to cut him down again, my lord Shield,” said Tyrcamber. “The Knights’ spirits are bound to soulstones within their hidden stronghold. Likely the Knight you slew will return to a new body soon enough.”

  “I’m aware,” said Rincimar. “Once we find their hidden stronghold, you can burn it with dragon fire, and the Knights’ spirits can join the Adversary in hell. But before I finished him, the Knight of Blood was screaming something about how the obelisks would destroy us all.”

  “Obelisks?” said Tyrcamber.

  Rincimar nodded. “That’s what the fool said.”

  “But the Fallen Order doesn’t raise obelisks or standing stones,” said Angaric, puzzled. “Not the way the dark elves did”

  “I don't know what to make of the matter,” said Rincimar with a shrug. “But that’s what he said.”

  “You can see why I was co
ncerned,” said Niamar. “I thought to speak with Duke Cormarl and Prince Everard about it, but Cormarl hates me enough to ignore my counsel.” He offered a bitter smile. “My alliance with Falconberg has made me richer than the Duke, and Cormarl will never forgive me for it. Then my wife and father-in-law told me of their past friendship with you, and I thought we could call upon you.” He shrugged. “If you had refused to see us, I would have sought out the Guardian of Cathair Kaldran myself. I have never met with the Guardian, but it is said that he will speak to anyone who seeks him out, whether noble or commoner.”

  “He would have spoken with you,” said Tyrcamber, thinking about Rincimar’s tale. “The Guardian has no false pride in him. But your account…it’s almost as if the Fallen Order attacked because you had gotten too close to the earthworks.”

  “That was my thought,” said Rincimar.

  “Since the Fallen Order marched out of Corbrast,” said Tyrcamber, “I have thought that Theudeuric’s strategy seemed…erratic. He attacked us a few days west of Castle Valdraxis, but immediately turned and marched to Sinderost, sacrificing part of his army so he could make his escape. He laid siege to Sinderost and launched heavy attacks, digging those half-finished earthworks, but fled without committing his army.”

  “Is that so strange?” said Sigurd. “I am no knight or captain, but the gathered army of the Empire is outside the walls. The Fallen Order could not hope to stand against them all. Retreat was sensible.”

  “Or his strategy is not erratic, but has some purpose we cannot see,” said Angaric.

  “You know,” said Selene, “I used to be an assassin.”

  They all looked at her.

  She grinned. “I’ve since reformed. But I used to be an assassin, and I look at the world through those eyes. And it occurs to me that all the chief nobles of the Frankish Empire are gathered within Sinderost. If I wanted to kill the leadership of the Empire, this would be an excellent time to do it.”

  The Count frowned at her. “You think that the Fallen Order means to assassinate the nobles?”

  Selene shrugged. “Why not? Or maybe just Prince Everard and the Dukes? Tyrcamber’s father put so much work into making Everard the next Emperor that if the Prince is killed, you’ll have years of chaos. Which is easier? To kill twenty thousand men upon a battlefield, or to kill a dozen Dukes and one Prince?”

  “I suppose it depends on how well-guarded those Dukes and the Prince are,” said Sigurd.

  “You were right to tell me this, my lord Count,” said Tyrcamber. “This is potentially dangerous. I will speak to the Guardian and my father and have them arrange defenses for the Prince and the Dukes.” He looked at the Count and the Shield. “I do not have the right to command you, but I have some suggestions.”

  Niamar smiled. “The suggestions of a Dragontiarna Knight may not be commands, but they are close.”

  “You are camped on the western bank of the Nabia,” said Tyrcamber. “Send out patrols, as far north and west as you can. If the Fallen Order intends to surprise us, we will need advance warning. I will speak with the Guardian, and we shall investigate these earthworks. Perhaps we can see why the Fallen Order doesn’t want us looking at them.”

  Rincimar looked at Niamar. Some unspoken communication passed between them.

  “Very well, Sir Tyrcamber,” said Niamar. “We will do as you suggest.”

  “Lady Ruari and I are invited to the Dukes’ feast tonight,” said Tyrcamber. “I will raise your concerns.” He hesitated. “I do not know if my father will act on them. But the Guardian will listen to me, and we will both investigate.”

  “Thank you, Sir Tyrcamber,” said Niamar. “I see my wife’s description of your abilities was not exaggerated.”

  Tyrcamber kept himself from blinking. Did Niamar know, and this was a subtle form of mockery? He decided not to think about it.

  Then something else occurred to him.

  “Before we go, Lord Shield, a question,” said Tyrcamber. “You were a mercenary captain in Corbrast before you became the Shield of Falconberg?”

  “I was,” said Rincimar.

  “Did you ever encounter Lady Rosalyn Aginwulf?” said Tyrcamber. “She has thrown her support behind Theudeuric and the Fallen Order, but I don’t know if she has been coerced or if she has freely chosen to follow the Order of Blood.”

  “Is that your chivalrous instinct, Sir Tyrcamber?” said Sigurd. “I am grateful for it, doubt it not, but a woman is just as capable of villainy and treachery as a man.”

  “As your husband, should I be concerned?” said Niamar.

  “If I told you half the tales of her mischief as a child, aye, you would be,” said Rincimar. Niamar laughed at that, and Sigurd actually flushed a little. “But I do not know. I saw old Duke Aginwulf, Rosalyn’s father, once or twice, but I never actually spoke to him or any of the family. The rumors said they were always strange. The mountains of Corbrast are a dangerous place. There are many old dark elven ruins in the peaks, and the muridachs lurked there. The House of Aginwulf had a dark reputation. If you had told me five years ago that the House of Aginwulf was secret members of the Fallen Order, I would have been surprised, but not very much. That is all I know about the matter.”

  ###

  Later that afternoon, as evening approached, Ruari prepared for the feast.

  Tyrcamber was surprised. His wife was a beautiful woman, but at times she seemed indifferent to or even oblivious of that fact. She was more interested in her work among the wounded than anything else, and thanks to her efforts, many men lived who would otherwise have died of poisoned wounds or gangrene. And the armor of a Dragontiarna was more prestigious than all but a few other garments in the Empire.

  Yet tonight, Ruari decided that she would look her best. Lady Adalberga, Ruari’s lady-in-waiting and most trusted friend, came to their room in the mansion and helped her dress. Ruari donned a gown of pale blue that went well with her eyes, and she reshaped her hair into an intricate crown of braids. Tyrcamber supposed he ought to follow her example, so he wore his best tunic, mantle, trousers and boots, Kyathar hanging in its sheath on his hip. It felt strange to be wearing something other than the armor of a Dragontiarna Knight since he had worn it every day since the fall of the Valedictor.

  Perhaps one day, he could go months without wearing it.

  Tyrcamber walked into the bedroom he shared with Ruari. He saw that she had used her powers with water magic to conjure a frozen mirror, using it to scrutinize her reflection. Adalberga stood next to her, adjusting Ruari’s hair. She was a stout woman in a plain dress and a wimple, her face leathery and creased. The withering plague that had taken Ruari’s voice and left mild scarring down the right side of her neck had inflicted much worse on Adalberga. But by then Ruari had come into her powers, and she had used her magic to heal Adalberga and her sons. Because of that, the older woman was devoted to Ruari and would do whatever she asked.

  Adalberga had decided to approve of Tyrcamber after he had threatened Ruari’s mother with a judicial duel if she did not stop bullying her daughter. A few days after that, Ruari had revealed herself as a Dragontiarna, and now Ruari’s mother was as scared of her as she was of Tyrcamber herself.

  “My lord Tyrcamber,” said Adalberga. Despite her travails, she always sounded cheerful. “Doesn’t he look handsome, my lady? You will make a splendid pair at the Dukes’ feast.”

  Ruari smiled at him, and Tyrcamber had the sudden urge to pull her out of that dress and carry her to the bed. But she had gone to a lot of work with her appearance, and it would be churlish to undo it before she even went to the Imperial Palace.

  “Thank you,” said Tyrcamber. “But you’ll be coming with us. A lady must have her attendants.”

  Ruari glanced at Adalberga. The older woman also had the gift of being able to divine Ruari’s intentions and wishes from a glance.

  “I’ll wait for you downstairs,” said Adalberga. “To think I’ll visit the Imperial Palace! And my sons are pages for D
uke Cataul, they’ll be able to see it as well.”

  She bustled from the bedroom and closed the door behind her.

  “I think she’s more excited than we are,” said Tyrcamber.

  Ruari nodded, picked up her tablet, and wrote on it.

  DID YOU SLEEP WITH SIGURD EICHENFEL?

  Tyrcamber sighed.

  “It was years ago,” he admitted, gazing at the frozen mirror. “Long before I met you. You weren’t even of marriageable age then, I think. After we killed the Dragon Cultists and saved Sigurd, there was a feast to celebrate the treaty between the Empire and the umbral elves of Sygalynon. I was tired and sick at heart, and I happened to run into Sigurd, and she was…persuasive.” He shook his head. “It was only one time.”

  Well, it had actually been three times, twice that night and again in the morning before he left Falconberg with the Order of Embers, but it had only been the one day. No need to belabor the point.

  Ruari stared at him, and Tyrcamber feared that he had hurt her. She had already suffered so much in her life, and he didn’t want to add to those pains…

  Then she smiled and wrote some more on the tablet.

  I FEAR I AM TEASING YOU. IT WAS OBVIOUS.

  Tyrcamber sighed and ran a hand over his hair. “Not to everyone, I hope.”

  PERHAPS JUST ME. BUT I KNEW I WASN’T YOUR FIRST WOMAN.

  She paused, rubbed out the words, thought for a moment, then wrote some more.

  I WAS SURPRISED BY HOW GENTLE AND KIND YOU WERE. I DIDN’T EXPECT THAT. I THOUGHT YOU WOULD BE A HARD MAN, ONE WITH MANY WOMEN. She paused again, and the stylus flickered over the tablet. YOU ARE A GOOD MAN.

  “I love you,” said Tyrcamber. Her hands were holding the tablet and stylus, so he settled for putting his hands upon her slender shoulders. “How could there be anyone else after you? In all the Empire, you’re the only one who can understand what it’s like…”

  TO BE DRAGONTIARNA.

  “Yes,” said Tyrcamber.

  LET US GO TO THE FEAST, HUSBAND. She smoothed the front of her dress, smiled at her icy reflection, and then dismissed the mirror with a wave of her hand. THE FIRST DRAGONTIARNA KNIGHT OUGHT TO HAVE A BEAUTIFUL WIFE UPON HIS ARM.