Northern Storm

Chapter Fourteen

You’ve got a funny idea of pleasure, my lord,’ Dev mused as he climbed up on to the Mist Dove’s bow platform. We barbarians would generally prefer living in luxury with a beautiful woman open to our every suggestion to spending a full turn of the moon up to our arses in blood and slaughter.’

And we civilised men know that taking a girl to your bed because you feel sorry for her and angry with some other woman is seldom a good idea. At least, I used to know that. I certainly owe Itrac better than that, when we get back. Though I don’t know what that will mean for me and Risala, whenever she returns. Will she have thought better of tying herself to my fate, when she can still turn aside to make a new life for herself? ‘Do you have any news for me?’ Kheda looked meaningfully at the supposed slave. ‘Did you have an enjoyable shave?’

The wizard grinned, running a hand over his bald pate before he put his helmet on. Then he slid a covert glance at the side deck to be sure the trireme’s archers weren’t close enough to overhear him. ‘She left Jagai waters yesterday.’

‘She’s a couple of days out from Relshaz, then.’ Kheda fixed Dev with an unblinking stare. ‘Is there anyone there for her to meet?’

‘I don’t know,’ Dev replied with repressed savagery. ‘The stupid bitch is brushing aside my questions. I don’t know where she learned that trick.’

Has this magewoman learned the tricks we need, that we were promised? Or is there something Dev isn’t telling me?

He bit down on the questions crowding on the tip of his tongue, conscious of the storage space under the planking beneath their feet.

Do you know who’s in there? Some of the sail crew? The ship’s carpenter, about some innocent business? No, so watch your words.

The Mist Dove was rowing steadily past a shallow white slope of sand where a coral islet barely broke the waves. The Gossamer Shark and the Brittle Crab flanked the heavy trireme. Kheda looked out past the upswept prow, frustration burning like acid in the back of his throat. ‘Risala has courier doves. She’ll send word when she reaches Relshaz. Itrac knows to send out a dispatch galley with news from the north at once. Until then, all we can do is go on.’

How long can I rely on that sole omen of the infant shark? When will I see something more to guide me? And what an irony this is: I’m risking my life consorting with wizards and I’m still reduced to relying on birds carrying messages because Dev and this magewoman have somehow lost touch. ‘Go on slaughtering savages?’ Dev raised an eyebrow. ‘I suppose it’s a living.’

‘You imagine we’re enjoying this?’ Kheda rounded on the wizard. ‘You don’t think we’re all sick to our stomachs of the stink of blood and bowels?’ He gestured at the armoured swordsmen sitting along the rails of the trireme or lying down on the side decks. All showed signs of fatigue, some sitting with heads hanging or eyes closed, faces drawn. Hauberks and helms betrayed signs of rough cleaning but foulness still stained metal and leather. Only swords were bright and unspotted. Plenty of warriors were busy with whetstone, rag and oil while the archers sat to check that the fletching on their arrows was secure and that no damp threatened the soundness of their bows or mildew compromised their strings. At least I got my armour back and no one was killed fetching it. Is that any kind of omen? ‘It has to be done,’ Kheda said with weary determination as he wiped away a trickle of sweat from underneath his helm’s brow band. ‘And it will be done. We will clear every last island of these savages and then Chazen can look to the future.’

And pursuing them gets me away from the residence where everyone pursues me looking for answers and judgements. Where Itrac increasingly wants something more than affection, something I find I just cannot give her.

‘This little campaign of yours is certainly doing wonders for my swordplay,’ Dev commented idly. ‘I can really play the part nowadays. And it’s keeping everyone’s mind off the dragon,’ he added in a lower, thoughtful tone. Kheda rubbed a hand over his beard. ‘Is it possible we’ve already killed whoever was summoning it?’ he asked quietly. ‘There’s been no sign of it, no word, since the full of the Lesser Moon.’

‘I wouldn’t bet your residence on it,’ Dev said frankly. ‘Let’s see what’s happened at this village we’re heading for first. That sounds like the work of some wild wizard with a rush of blood to the head.’

‘It’s done no good for morale, has it?’ Kheda leaned back against the prow post, surveying the trireme’s tired contingent. ‘We thought we had the last of then penned in on the rocks beyond Conti with nowhere to go but the empty ocean and then we get news of a village razed to the ground two days’ hard pull behind us.’

‘Which is what makes me suspect some prentice wizard has felt his stones drop.’ Dev cracked his knuckles. ‘Who wants a quick and lethal lesson in his art.’

‘You’re to keep watch for the dragon,’ Kheda told him forcefully. We want to kill them all before it arrives. Try to think of anything we might do to drive it off, if we can’t get away in time, even if we’ve no idea how to kill it as yet.’

‘Without getting myself killed?’ queried Dev sceptically. ‘By the beast or by my own side,’ he added in a low tone.

Kheda looked up at the empty skies. ‘We can tell every archer to watch for it. Perhaps a storm of arrows will send it looking for an easier meal.’

‘As I said, my lord, I wouldn’t bet your residence on that,’ Dev scoffed.

‘Then we’ll have to try throwing gems at it.’ Kheda shrugged. ‘You know where the chests are.’

A warlord’s ransom in jewels extorted from Daish and stacked in the stern cabin of this trireme. It’s a good thing any pirates have long since fled these waters for fear of the dragon.

He frowned as he saw activity on the shore on the far side of the strait the Mist Dove had turned into. Skiffs with deft triangular sails were drawn up on the sand and bare-chested fishermen were landing a fresh catch and haggling with islanders in creased and sweat-stained cotton who sat on sacks of sailer grain, baskets of vegetables by their feet. Youths waiting out on the water saw the triremes and began shouting and waving.

Ready to give us all the precious sailer from storehouses that barely hold enough to see them to the end of the dry season. They’ll strip their village plots of reckal roots and send children into the forest to forage for hira beets instead, if that’s what it takes to support their warlord and his warriors, so we can put an end to these savages, so they can return to a life with only the usual chances and hardships to fear. ‘They’re a bit cursed close to this village that was attacked, aren’t they?’ Dev frowned. ‘They don’t seem overly worried’

‘It’s possible no one got away to raise the alarm.’ Kheda looked towards a slew of larger islands rising in low palm-fringed green hummocks. Pale reefs in the channels between them made a turquoise and lapis mosaic of the waters. ‘Maybe the savages killed everyone there.’

‘Hadn’t we better warn that lot dallying on the beach?’ asked Dev.

‘I don’t want to start a panic,’ said Kheda slowly. ‘Let’s see how bad it is before we do anything rash.’ I’d rather kill every last savage and take those islanders the news that the danger they didn’t even know about is gone without threatening their fragile peace.

‘Shouldn’t be long now,’ Dev murmured.

‘Get me some water, will you, please?’ Kheda licked lips dry with thirst and apprehension. He watched Dev make his way back along the ship through the warriors on the side decks.

Earl day’s wanner than the one before. We’ve this last cycle of the Greater Moon to fight through before the rains break and the heat will rise like a stoked furnace between now and then. We must finish this butchery before we have to abandon this campaign because the men in armour are boiling in their own sweat.

As Kheda watched, Shipmaster Shaiam got out of his seat and, after a brief discussion with the helmsman Yere, said something to the young warrior Ridu who was sitting on the top of the ladder leading down to the rowing deck. The word was passed along and the swordsmen on both side decks drew themselves up, alert. Archers had their bows at the ready and every eye was turned outwards. Across the water Kheda heard the purposeful rattle of the troops aboard the Gossamer Shark and the Brittle Crab making ready. He walked back to the stern, meeting the grim determination on the faces of the Chazen warriors with nods of equal resolve.

‘Keep a lookout for those log boats of theirs, Shaiam.’

‘We’ll crush them under the ram and the scum can drown, my lord.’ The shipmaster ran long, dark fingers through the plaits of his beard, crow’s feet around his eyes deepening as he watched the fleeter, narrower Brittle Crab pull ahead of the other two ships. ‘That’s if they run, my lord. I think they’re more likely to be hiding in the cane brakes again.’

‘Then we’ll hem them in and hunt them out again.’ Kheda turned to follow the line of Shaiam’s gaze. ‘Hunting such wily prey in this thick cover has cost us good men already on this campaign, my lord,’ the shipmaster said tentatively. ‘Setting a few fires might send the savages running for the open.’

‘And fire would purify the land their foul feet have trodden.’ Kheda nodded. ‘Unfortunately that cursed dragon seems to relish fire. I’m disinclined to draw its attention this way.’ He managed a wry smile. Not till I’ve learned how we’re to kill it.’

‘Do you truly believe your slave, that there are barbarians who know how to kill these creatures?’ asked Shaiam quietly. He glanced down to the oar deck where Dev was carefully filling a brass ewer from a water cask. ‘Can we trust a barbarian’s word? Magic runs through their lives like rot through wood.’

‘Dev’s been an Archipelagan longer than he was a barbarian.’ Kheda shrugged with well-feigned unconcern. ‘And we’ve seen Aldabreshin wisdom find ways to foil magic in the northern reaches. That saved us last year.’

‘True, my lord,’ Shaiam allowed. Distaste still creased his face.

‘Let’s deal with one problem at a time,’ suggested Kheda. ‘Let’s see what’s become of this village.’

‘My lord.’ Dev climbed up the steep stair to the stern platform, carrying the ewer and a broad-based brass goblet.

‘Thank you.’ Kheda drank gratefully before refilling the goblet and offering it to Shaiam.

‘My lord.’ The shipmaster bowed before quenching his own thirst.

The brassy scream of a horn from the Brittle Crab silenced the chatter from the oarsmen and all activity on the side decks halted. Everyone watched the fast trireme round a headland choked with tangled dark-green vines and edged with jagged grey rocks.

Shaiam shouted orders down to the rowing master, the trireme’s piper translating his commands into shrill whistles. The shipmaster stood by the helmsman’s chair, one hand gripping Yere’s shoulder. The youth’s cheerful face was deadly serious as he glanced from side to side, judging the courses of the other two ships, hands gripping the twin steering oars.

The oarsmen on their triple-tiered seats below leaned over their sweeps and the oars crashed into the water. On the side decks, the swordsmen lined the rails, dulled armour still catching the sun here and there. The archers stood alert on the prow platform, ready to loose a rain of arrows in an instant. The Gossamer Shark was running level with the Mist Dove, white spume foaming up around the mighty ship’s brass-sheathed ram. The two ships swung around, giving a wide berth to the broken waters where the eager current gnawed at a long finger of land.

As Yere pulled on his steering oars and the rowing master shouted his orders to each rank of rowers, the Mist Dove wheeled around. Kheda, Dev and Shaiam turned as one man to get a clear view of the long beach protected by the curve of the headland. It was empty—both of defiant, painted savages and of any sign that there had ever been a settlement there.

‘Shaiam?’ As Kheda voiced his surprise, a querulous horn sounded from the Brittle Crab, seeking instructions.

‘This is where we were told the village had been seen.’ The shipmaster was splitting his attention between watching Yere’s steering and riffling through the pages of his route records.

‘A new village,’ Kheda reminded him. ‘A fresh start for some of those who escaped last year. Perhaps we’ve been misdirected.’

‘Perhaps.’ Shaiam looked at the vacant shore, baffled. ‘We certainly haven’t gone astray,’ he insisted. A second horn sounded from the Gossamer Shark as the heavy trireme took up position guarding the Mist Dove’s seaward flank.

Kheda saw that the warriors on the side decks were similarly bemused, more and more faces turning to the stern expectantly, their hands still resting on their sword hilts. The murmur of speculation among the rowers below grew louder.

‘Shaiam, this can’t be the right beach.’ He tried not to sound too severe.

‘I can’t see how we made a mistake.’ Yere twisted to pull his own book out of a deep pocket in his over-mantle. ‘It was the Lilla Bat that saw it. I know their helmsman—’

‘They said it was just like before,’ Shaiam insisted. ‘A village burning, a stockade for prisoners, wild men clubbing women and children to death!’

Kheda looked at Dev and jerked his head towards the stern post. The two of them retreated as far from Shaiam and Yere as possible.

‘Is there magic at work here?’ Kheda demanded in a low tone, under cover of a vehement argument erupting around the helmsman’s chair as the rowing master and Ridu arrived to demand an explanation. ‘Hiding the wild men?’ Dev looked past the curve of the stern. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘Don’t think, be certain!’ snapped Kheda.

Dev scowled before narrowing his eyes. He rubbed his palms lightly together, lips moving soundlessly. ‘It’s—’

He got no further. The trireme shuddered from end to end and the stern reared up out of the water. Soaked by a wave of spray, and with the deck tilting abruptly beneath them, Kheda and Dev both lost their footing. They slid down the planking, Kheda bracing himself behind the shipmaster’s chair. Dev barely managed to grab hold, fingers slipping on the smooth wood. Kheda grabbed at the neck of the barbarian’s hauberk, hauling him up to share the inadequate perch.

Yere clung to his useless steering oars, feet slipping on the deck. Shaiam was hanging on to the helmsman’s seat with one hand, the other maintaining a precarious grip on Yere’s tunic. Ridu and the rowing master were nowhere to be seen. Down in the body of the ship, the rowers were clinging to their oars as the swordsmen fell in amongst them. Other warriors had fallen over the rails to land among the oar blades with yells of shock and pain.

Kheda looked to see what incomprehensible disaster had overtaken the ship’s bow. The dragon looked back at him, cavernous mouth agape, its long crimson tongue flickering over those glittering white teeth. It had landed full on the front of the ship, hind legs breaking down the upswept prow posts before seizing a foothold on the brass-sheathed ram, claws tearing through the thickness of the metal. Its massive front feet, with vicious curved claws the colour of old bone, splintered the planking of the bow platform and the downdraught from its outspread wings sent showers of debris to land in the water.

Those swordsmen who hadn’t fallen to death or injury were flinging themselves from the rails into the sea. Some died under a hail of arrows hissing in from the Gossamer Shark and the Brittle Crab, both vessels coming as close at they dared. Shouts of terrified consternation mingled with the screams of the Mist Dove’s stricken crew.

Ignoring the arrows skidding harmlessly off its crimson scales, the dragon ducked its head towards blood oozing through the shattered wood at its forefeet. It paused to lick at a man’s torn leg protruding from the wreckage before scorning it with a rumble deep in its colossal chest. It took a pace forward, drawing in its enormous leathery wings. More of its weight bore down on the hapless trireme. The upper decks buckled and broke, crushing the oarsmen trapped beneath. The ship sank deeper, the rising waters cutting short the screams from the rowing deck.

The dragon looked up at the stern and advanced, step by ponderous step. The Mist Dove levelled out as it sank still further, seas rising to the middle oar ports. The dragon looked down, careful not to let its feet slip into the chaos of bloodied foam, shattered oars and broken bodies. Its heavy, blunt head swept from side to side, forked tongue still flickering over those murderous teeth. Pinpoints of golden fire burned in its ruby eyes as it nosed among the injured and dying men tangled up with the shattered planks. Then it looked up at the four men still clinging to the sloping stern platform. Crimson scales fringing its head and jaw bristled and its great red flanks swelled as it opened its maw. The fire in its eyes burned white hot and it breathed a great gout of scarlet flame.

What hope is there for Chazen now?

When his next breath wasn’t one of searing fire, Kheda forced himself to open his eyes. He wished he hadn’t when he saw Yere and Shaiam being consumed by the flames. The shipmaster threw himself blindly away from the ship, searching for the sea. There was no escape. The malicious red fire that enveloped him kept on burning even after he had sunk beneath the waves. The helmsman burned to a blackened skeleton still clinging vainly to the charred steering oars.

Why aren’t we dead?

Kheda saw the scarlet flames abandon Yere’s contorted corpse to split apart the deck that had been risen above the worst of seas. The wood crackled and disintegrated into feathery ash blown away by the punishing down-draught of the dragon’s wings. But the planking where the warlord knelt was somehow proof against the enchanted flames.

Dev crouched beside Kheda with one palm outstretched, denying the dragon’s fire. Frustrated, the crimson flames crawled around their refuge to reunite behind them, racing up the trireme’s stern posts to devour the seasoned timber like the driest kindling. The sorcerous red fire was burning whatever remained above the water-line. Scarlet flames sprang across the cowering seas to devour wood, cloth, flesh and bone floating helpless in the turmoil.

The dragon roared, deafening Kheda. The blaze all around leapt up as high as the beast’s scaly spine, wreathing the creature in fire. Its scales glowed like molten metal as it breathed another furnace blast straight at the two of them. Dev kept his arm outstretched to deny it as he swept his other hand around to gather a handful of enchanted fire from the burning stem. He flung it at the dragon, a blazing missile shooting straight at the creature’s eye. It sprang up, great wings fanning the flames to even greater fury. The Mist Dove rocked violently, relieved of the massive weight, and water poured over the burning decks. The seas were still helpless to quench the murderous magical fires.

‘Come on!’ Dev dragged Kheda towards the side of the sinking ship. The water was lapping around the hem of his hauberk and rising fast, a cold grip around his thighs.

‘We’ll drown,’ protested Kheda numbly, looking at the impossible distance to the dubious refuge of the shore.

No, we won’t,’ yelled Dev. ‘Do you want to burn to death?’

The deck beneath their feet fell away, leaving Kheda frantically trying to swim, to keep his head above the water. Lumps of wood battered him in the roiling foam. Bodies jostled among the wreckage, arms and legs limp. Kheda couldn’t tell if they were—alive or dead as they appeared and vanished in the chaos. The water was cold but cuts and scratches he didn’t know he had stung like fire.

The weight of their armour dragged both men below the surface. Kheda managed to draw a last, despairing breath before the sea closed over his head. Dev still had hold of his hand, their fingers intertwined. Kheda opened his eyes, trying to prise Dev’s fingers loose with his free hand. Dev held on still tighter. He shook their linked fists, face twisted with anger. Kheda stopped fighting to free himself and they sank together.

The water became calmer beneath the uppermost surge of the waves. Sooty black trails from burning shards of wood followed them down towards the pale ripples of the sea floor. Bodies floated around the still smouldering hulk of the ship, slowly sinking as the curious sea riffled their lifeless hair and clothing. Some were intact, others cruelly maimed and burned. More were caught twisted among the remains of the stricken trireme.

The pain in Kheda’s ears was indescribable. Water was forcing its way up his nose. His eyes felt raw. He looked up, his chest burning. The surface of the sea was opaque confusion, shining like nacre. He blinked and rubbed at his eyes. Everything under the water was blurred and weirdly distorted. Noise filled his ears but he couldn’t make sense of it. He couldn’t tell where any sound in the deafening turmoil was coming from.

Dev tugged at his hand, still kicking to drive them at least some way towards the shore before they landed on the sea bed. They came to rest with a soft thud on the undulating sand. It was hard and unyielding beneath Kheda’s feet. Kheda tugged, panicked, at the neck of his hauberk then realised that he could barely feel the weight of the armour. Before he could make sense of that, an invisible swell nearly knocked him off his feet.

Still holding tightly to Kheda’s hand, Dev let himself drift down to lie almost prone on the sea bed. The warlord saw that the wizard was pinching his nostrils tightly closed with his spare hand. Kheda blew the water out of his own nose and did the same. Somehow that eased the vicious pain in his ears. He squinted at the mage, seeing Dev still blunted and looking oddly bleached.

Stern face demanding obedience, Dev released Kheda’s hand. The warlord half-lay, half-crouched on the sea bed, not knowing what to do. Dev turned and began half-crawling, half-swimming towards the distant beach.

Kheda tried to stand up again and once more a swell knocked him down. He sat on an unyielding ridge of sand for a moment. His chest was a hollow cavern of agony and the strain in his throat was becoming intolerable. Tenor paralysed him like a stone fish’s sting.

I can’t swim for the surface and I won’t make it to the shore. I can’t help it: I’m going to take a breath. Then I will drown. Will it make any difference to Chazen if I die a natural death instead of being burned to ash by the dragon’s fire?

Dev appeared beside him, face twisted with a fury apparent even through the blurring still plaguing Kheda’s vision. Kheda opened his mouth in a mute, hopeless plea. Dev reached out to force Kheda’s jaw shut, his fingers digging in painfully. The wizard raised a warning finger in front of his eyes and pointed towards the shore. Somehow in the midst of his panic, Kheda realised that foul as the feeling of being half-suffocated was, it wasn’t actually getting any worse.

Will it make any difference to Chazen if I’m saved from a natural death by wizardry?

Dev turned and began his laboured crawl back towards the shore again. This time Kheda followed, pushing with his feet and knees, doing his best to drag himself with his spare hand. The fingers pinching his nostrils threatened to cramp as he grew colder. He found himself fighting against the water and the drag of his chain mail, even though he couldn’t feel its weight. Jaw clenched so tight his teeth ached, he ducked his head and continued fighting his way towards the pale promise of the open air.

The sea bed sloped more steeply upwards and the ridges in the sand grew closer together, telling Kheda that they were getting closer to the shore.

I suppose it makes sense to move more like a crab than a man down here.

He looked up and in a heart-stopping moment of relief thought they were within reach of the open air. He tried to stand and raised a frantic hand only to realise that the surface was still more than an arm’s length away. A roll of surging white foam knocked him sideways, shoving him this way and that. Kheda fell back to the sea bed, using hands and feet in a desperate scramble until his head broached the surface. He gulped down clean, salt-scented relief before choking on a mouthful of water as a wave broke over his head. When he could breathe again, he retched and coughed.

‘Come on.’ Dev’s hand grabbed the scruff of his neck and hauled him forwards. Before it sees me.’

‘Where’s the dragon?’ Kheda wiped water from his eyes and tried to run in the knee-deep surf. He lost his footing and fell, only saved from another ducking by Dev’s strong arm.

The wizard hauled him upright and gave him a feeble slap across his nerveless face. ‘Move, curse you!’ Kheda’s armour felt five times the burden it had ever been as the waters fell away behind them. Where his hands and feet had been numb before, now he realised that the water and rasping sand had left his skin sodden and tender. He staggered after Dev as the wizard reeled across the sand like a man drunk on barbarian liquor. The mage barely reached the shade of a cluster of nut palms before he collapsed, chest heaving, breath rattling in his throat.

Kheda rubbed at his stinging eyes. His hair and beard were sticky with salt. Looking out to sea, he saw the Brittle Crab and the Gossamer Shark racing desperately away from the island. The dragon wheeled above them. ‘They can’t outrun the beast,’ he said despairingly.

‘They won’t have to.’ Dev forced himself up on to his hands and knees. ‘It’ll be back.’

‘Look!’ Kheda pointed to men crawling ashore among the wreckage of the Mist Dove. We must get everyone together, before the savages attack.’

‘There are no savages.’ Dev’s words were muffled as he scrubbed his face with his hands. ‘There never were any savages. The dragon wrought an illusion. It wanted us to come and see what had happened.’

‘It can do that?’ Kheda gaped. ‘I don’t know what it can do.’ Dev broke off, shuddering. ‘I know what it wants to do. It wants to kill me. It’s realised I come in a ship. It’s realised Chazen ships are hunting the wild men. So it showed a Chazen ship a Chazen village under attack by the wild men. Ah!’ He gasped with pain and began frantically tearing at the lacings of his hauberk

‘What are you doing?’ Kheda asked in alarm.

‘The dragon,’ said Dev, jaw clenched as he fought his way free of his armour. ‘It’s back.’

A black shape blotted out the sun and Kheda saw the creature’s evil shadow sweep across the sand. ‘Run!’ Dev threw his chain mail away as hard as he could. The ungainly sprawl of metal burst into flames, the plates writhing and buckling, the rings melting into drops of liquid steel.

With the deafening sound of the dragon’s wings directly above, Kheda took to his heels. The stand of nut palms exploded into flames as the dragon wheeled overhead, blasting the sand with its fiery breath, scorching whatever was left of Dev’s armour into oblivion. It crowed with exultation before landing with a thud that shook the whole beach. Thrusting its massive head into the flames, it began ripping at the burning trees with its murderous foreclaws.

Warlord and wizard crouched in a tandra thicket. Kheda saw that some of the men washed up on the shore who had fallen terrified to the sands were cautiously lifting their heads. One made a dash for the dubious safety of the trees. The dragon ignored him, still intent on reducing the nut-palm thicket to smouldering fragments. More of the men ran for their lives.

They’ll never believe I swam ashore in this armour.

Kheda threw his helm aside and began wrestling his way free of his own hauberk.

‘I’ve got to get away from it,’ Dev said fervently, shaking like a man wracked with fever.

‘We’ve got to get away from all this tinder.’ Alarmed, Kheda saw the dry husks of tandra pods start smoking. A tuft of the white fibres within flared up. He flailed at it with his armour before the oily black seeds ignited.

‘It knows its magic speaks to mine,’ Dev said with difficulty. ‘That’s how it’s going to find me.’

‘This beast’s too cursed clever by half.’ Kheda looked at the dragon standing in the midst of the blackened nut-palm stumps. The creature had lifted its head and was surveying the trees and brush that fringed the beach. But you said it was doing a wizard’s will. Where is he?’

‘I’ve no idea,’ said Dev tightly. ‘All I know is that thing wants me dead.’

The dragon took a few paces along the shore and blasted a striol-choked spinefruit tree into fiery oblivion.

Could I escape, along with whoever else has washed ashore, while it hunted him down?

But Dev saved my life, so I’m bound by every code of honour to try to save his barbarian, magic-cursed hide. Besides, this magewoman won’t be too inclined to offer her help if she learns that I left him to be eaten by the beast.

‘What do you suppose it wants more?’ Kheda said slowly. ‘Do you think we could escape it if it was sated with gems?’

‘They’re all at the bottom of the strait along with the Mist Dove? Dev watched with sick apprehension as the dragon studied the spreading blaze it had created, tongue tasting the air.

No, they’re not,’ Kheda said with growing determination. ‘Look.’

Several of the survivors were seizing chests or coffers from the broken wreckage scattered on the shore before scurrying towards the forest.

‘That fire’s coming our way.’ Dev began backing out of the tandra thicket.

Kheda stood his ground despite the scarlet flames crawling towards them, crackling and spitting. ‘Can you distract it somehow, while I try to find some gems? We can at least buy some time to run. How far do we have to go before it loses your scent?’

‘I’ve no idea,’ spat Dev. ‘There’s no hiding from it—’

Kheda slapped the mage hard across the face. ‘You’re a lot of despicable things but you’ve never been a coward. Don’t start now!’ He caught Dev’s arm, barely saving himself from the wizard’s fist in his face. ‘How can you distract it?

Dev rubbed his flushed cheek. ‘We could see what it makes of your armour if I set it melting,’ he muttered without conviction. ‘Leave it there.’

‘Just keep one step ahead of it.’ Kheda gripped Dev’s arm, trying to encourage the mage. ‘I’ll be back.’ Dev pulled away and disappeared into the trees. His bare feet left scorched, smouldering prints in the dry leaf litter.

Kheda caught up his swords and ran along the edge of the shore. He scanned the trees urgently for any signs of the Mist Dove’s crew.

‘My lord!’ An ashen-faced oarsman peered out from behind a spinefruit tree. He flinched and ducked back again as a ball of fire erupted in the trees behind Kheda.

The warlord flung himself into the shelter of the spine-fruit’s shadow. Do you have any gems?’ he demanded. Did you pick any up?’

No, my lord,’ the hapless rower quavered.

Kheda looked back to see a pillar of flame snaking up into the sky. The dragon sprang into the air and circled it, lashing at the writhing scarlet fire with its tail. It was all far too close for comfort; Kheda could feel the heat on his forehead.

‘Come on.’ He drew a sword and began hacking a path through the tangled underbrush. ‘Chazen!’ he yelled. ‘To me! We need gems to fill the creature’s mouth or we’ll all get eaten!’

A couple of terrified archers appeared on either side of a tandra thicket. Neither had bow nor arrows but one clutched a small coffer in his shaking hands. Kheda hurried forwards and seized it. His heart sank. It was his physic chest.

‘That’s something,’ he said tightly. ‘Look after it. But we need gems.’

‘My lord.’ Another rower appeared, this time holding one of the coffers of jewels so grudgingly sent from the Daish treasury.

‘Good man,’ Kheda breathed with heartfelt relief. ‘Are there any more?’

There were stirrings further along the shore. Unseen, some man called out to another, passing the word of Kheda’s appearance and of his search for gems.

‘Come on.’ The warlord led his stunned, disparate band further away from the dragon.

The creature was now roaring horribly at the pillar of flames. Every time it blasted the taunting inferno into oblivion with its fiery breath, the stubborn blaze sprang back up again.

That hauberk was definitely bad luck. Whatever Dev’s doing, how much longer can it last? ‘My lord.’ A handful of shocked oarsmen appeared from behind a sandy outcrop.

‘Gems.’ One thrust another small coffer at Kheda.

The warlord took it and looked around the stricken handful of survivors. A strange calm came over him as he put the only plan he could think of into halting words. ‘I’ll see if I can distract the beast, then I’ll make a run for it. Get yourselves over to the far side of this island. Find the most northerly point. Wait until dusk and try to flag down a fisherman. Don’t light a fire, that’ll only attract the beast. I’ll try to join you.’

‘My lord—’ the man still clutching the physic chest protested inarticulately.

‘Give me that.’ Kheda took the ebony and silver coffer and knelt to open it. He found a small wax-sealed box and tucked it inside the front of his sweaty, sandy tunic. ‘Go on. You have to take word of what’s happened back if I don’t return.’ He looked at the men now staring at him, aghast. ‘I can’t and won’t ask any of you to do this. This is my duty to you as your lord.’

And how better to find out if I am truly doing the right thing by Chazen, or if I’m truly cursed to die by the magic that I’ve brought to this domain.

‘Go!’ he barked, with all the authority he could summon.

Slowly, the survivors of the disaster backed away. As they turned to see where they were going, they began to move more quickly. Soon they were running away through the forest, heedless of the noise they were making.

Kheda picked up the two jewel coffers by their rope handles. They weren’t overlarge but were still heavy enough to drag painfully at his arms as he walked slowly out from the shelter of the trees. The dragon had finally managed to quell the impudent flame Dev had raised against it and was stamping violently on the ground where Kheda had left his armour. Its vehement throbbing growl made Kheda’s head ache.

The warlord walked slowly down to the waterline and scanned the debris, glancing up at the dragon with every second step. He saw another battered chest and splashed into the shallows to retrieve it. Movement caught the corner of his eye and he halted, knee-deep in the water. The dragon was looking at him, heavy blunt head cocked to one side. Faint trails of smoke rose from its nostrils. It snorted and the smoke stopped.

Kheda straightened his back and stared the dragon straight in the eye. It looked back at him, unmistakable intelligence in that white fire lighting its ruby eyes. Kheda swung one of the coffers at aim’s length, backwards and forwards, the arc lengthening with every swing. Putting all his strength behind it, he flung the little chest down the beach. The dragon’s eyes followed it as it flew through the air and landed with a solid thud further down the waterline.

Kheda stood still. The dragon stared back at him before turning to look over its shoulder into the unrevealing trees. Kheda threw a second chest, the effort forcing out an unintended groan. The chest landed and broke open. The dragon’s head whipped around and the light in its eyes glowed brighter. It took a pace forward before looking at Kheda again.

He threw the third chest as far as he could. It fell not far from the first, Daish workmanship holding firm. Just what I don’t need. What do I do now? There’s no way I’m going any closer to open the cursed things!

The dragon took another few paces forward, its attention switching between the two unopened coffers and the one spilling bright jewels over the white sands. Kheda began walking slowly backwards, feeling his way as best he could to avoid tripping over broken wood and bodies. The dragon ignored him as it crouched low to run its tongue over the scattered jewels.

Kheda risked a glance over his shoulder as he shifted his path towards the tree line. A few more men were dragging themselves out of the water and scrambling across the sand. He looked back to see that the dragon wasn’t interested in them, and was advancing on the two unopened chests.

Now Kheda was half-way between the waterline and the trees. He abandoned caution as the dragon broke open the second coffer with a splintering claw. He ran for the forest, but rather than join the fleeing rowers, he doubled back towards the blasted ruin of the tandra thicket where he’d left Dev. His heart pounded in his chest as he tried to recall the oath the wizard had taken. Caught unawares, he skidded to a halt as he saw the black footprints charred into the dry leaves. Curbing the urge to shout out the barbarian’s name, he forced his way through the entangling brush. Behind him on the beach, the dragon’s growl had softened to an unnerving croon.

Dev hadn’t got far. Kheda fell over him behind a green-stained outcrop. The mage was lying in the shade of the rock, eyes tightly closed, arms wrapped around himself and shaking violently.

Kheda dropped to his knees. ‘Dev,’ he whispered urgently, shaking him. He snatched back his hand as the coarse hairs on the wizard’s forearm slid away to dust beneath his seared fingers. The heat within the mage was singeing him hairless.

Back on the beach, the dragon roared with sudden fury. Kheda heard the deafening clap of its wings. He looked at Dev. Before he had time to think, he caught up a rock the size of his fist. He winced as he smacked it into the side of Dev’s head. The wizard moaned and went limp. Kheda ducked as the dragon made a pass overhead, the wind from its wings setting the leaves rattling. As the shadow passed, he tried to drag Dev further into the shallow hollow beneath the overhang and tested the wound he had inflicted with careful fingers.

You don’t seem to have cracked his skull. That’s one good thing. Or is it? No one would have batted an eyelid if you’d returned without your awkward slave, who could then be safely praised as a hero for spending his life in your service.

No, we’ve been here before. I didn’t kill him then and I won’t kill him now, not unless it’s the only way to save ourselves from the dragon. I owe him more than that.

And he owes this domain a more valuable death, if it comes to it. There’s still much his blood could do to wash away the stain he’s brought to these islands.

Kheda glowered at the unconscious Dev as he reached inside his tunic and brought out the wax-sealed box. Cracking the tightly fitted lid open, he found that the speckled powder inside was still largely dry. Forcing the unconscious wizard’s jaw open, he tipped a hefty dose on to his tongue. After a moment’s thought, he ripped the sleeve from his tunic and bound the wizard’s mouth closed. Then he ducked down as the dragon swept overhead again.

Going back to the shore. Then we’re going the other way.

Forcing himself upright, Kheda dragged Dev’s senseless body on to his shoulders and began breaking a path though the undergrowth, heading away from the nightmare on the beach.