The Dragonbards

Chapter 14

In the palaces of the dark, the unliving replenish their powers by torturing their captives. They sustain themselves by breaking the human spirit—oh, I pray to the Graven Light for my children. The unliving must be driven from Tirror.

*

The little owls darted through the moonlight, leading the dragons over a deep, shadowed chasm. Ahead rose the mountain, its rocky face pale in the moon’s glow and alive with giant lizards oozing over its ledges. Lizards were crowded at the foot of the mountain, too, around the wall of mortared stone that sealed the monster’s cave. When the dragons dove at them, spitting flame, the lizards fled.

The dragons settled before the mortared wall, and the bards slid down and stood looking. The stink of the monster was like rotten meat. The door at the bottom was just large enough to herd a few rats through. Next to the wall was the cave where the rats were kept—the bards could hear them squeaking and fighting behind the iron door. Two dozen wooden barrels stood waiting to be filled.

“How do they get the monster out?” Kiri said.

Teb examined the wall. “Maybe there’s another way, back in the caves.”

“Whatever that creature is,” Seastrider said, “it is certainly no dragon. No dragon ever smelled like that.”

The bards unstrapped the bundles of cadacus wafers from the dragons’ harness and began to empty them into the barrels. They sprinkled handfuls of dirt on top, so the wafers wouldn’t be seen. The rats would stir them up, seeking the smell of food. As the bards filled the barrels, they could hear stirrings behind the monster’s wall, as if the creature was snuffling and scraping along the stone. Suddenly it began to scream. The dragons leaped at the wall, belching flame.

“Get back,” Teb shouted. “Do you want to free that thing?” He tried to imagine the shape of the creature, but it touched his thoughts only as writhing darkness. “Come on. Before we all throw up.”

Marshy, Kiri, and Teb mounted up, and the dragons leaped skyward, sucking in fresh air.

They circled the highest peak and found a lizard cave. When the giant lizards attacked, the dragons killed them. For over an hour they battled the creatures, pushing the bodies down the mountain into the ravine. The bards swept lizard dung and trash from the cave and laid out their gear. Two pairs of owls went to steal the key to the slave cage and to search for the bard children. Kiri cleaned Teb’s arm where the jackal had bitten it; then she put on salve and bound it.

The owls were gone perhaps an hour; then Theeka and her mate swept in on the wind, to drop onto Teb’s arm.

“What happened?” Teb said. “Where are Neeno and Afeena?”

“Ooo, on the wall, Tebriel,” Theeka said. “Waiting for you. They have the key to the slave cage. It was not in the larder, ooo-ooo, but deep inside the palace, beside the door to Quazelzeg’s chambers. Ooo, what a tangled warren of halls.”

“Did you find the children?”

“We could hear children,” Theeka said. “There were lights in a cellar. Ooo, we heard ugly laughing, and a child screamed. We tried to get in, but there was not a hole big enough. We could see the children through a crack. We could not see the bard children. You will have to use the other plan.”

Kiri glanced at Marshy.

Teb laid a hand on the little boy’s shoulder. “You can change your mind. No one would think the less of you.”

“It will be best if I go right away,” Marshy said. “I’m ready—old clothes, musty smell, and all.” The little boy squeezed Kiri’s hand and climbed onto Iceflower’s back.

Teb put on the hooded cloak Garit had given him, like those worn by Quazelzeg disciples. He hugged Kiri and held her. “You have the rope and the rest of the drugged meat. Don’t leave here until the owls come for you. It could be a few hours, it could be tomorrow night.” He cupped her face in his hands. His look was deep and searching. “It will be all right, Kiri. Be careful . . . for me.” His eyes darkened, and he held her to him fiercely. “You . . . it will be all right.” He held her tight for a long moment, then turned away as if it were easier to leave her quickly. He leaped to Seastrider’s back, Theeka and Keetho swept up to his shoulders, and Seastrider beat up into the night with Iceflower close behind.

Kiri watched dragon and dragonling lift above her and disappear beyond the mountain. She felt lost, torn away from Teb, and she was cold with fear for him. Windcaller stretched out before the cave entrance, watching her. The two owls who had stayed went inside the cave to grub after insects in the rough walls. Kiri stood staring at the empty sky for a long time, trying to be with Teb in her mind. But her vision was stifled by the closeness of the dark. She strained for any sound, and heard nothing. At last she turned back into the cave, drank some water, and lay down with her head on her pack. But her stomach felt empty with terror. Very soon Teb and Marshy would be alone within the walls of the unliving. Windcaller said, “You were not afraid all those years you spied for Dacia.”

“Yes, I was. You didn’t know me then. I was afraid for myself, and for Papa.”

“Oh,” Windcaller said. “But you did your job anyway.” She gave Kiri a stern look. “Your fear cannot help Tebriel and Marshy. Only your strength and your cleverness can. You must rest and be ready.”

Kiri scowled at Windcaller and closed her eyes, knowing she couldn’t rest.

*

As Seastrider and Iceflower circled above the palace, the only movement in the courtyard was the shadows thrown by the torches, leaping across the still bodies of the jackals. The dragons dropped to the wall, left Teb and Marshy there, and banked away toward the mountain, out of sight.

Teb looped his rope over a spike and went down, his hand never far from his sword. Marshy swung down close behind. They moved toward the slave cage, skirting the drugged jackals. Inside the cage, the children were a dark mass of sleeping bodies huddled close together. Neeno swooped down from the top of the cage and laid the key in Teb’s hand. Teb unlocked the gate, and they slipped in, to search, staring into sleeping faces.

They searched for a long time. The two bard children were not there. A dozen chains hung empty. Marshy chose one, and they tried the key to make sure. Yes, the same key unlocked both gate and chains. Marshy locked the steel cuff around his ankle. Teb left him, locked the gate behind him, and passed the key in to Marshy. Marshy hung it on a cord around his neck, underneath his clothes, and settled down in a position of sleep. If he didn’t use the key, if they were still there at dawn, Afeena would return the key to the palace before the dark soldiers woke.

Teb followed Afeena’s faint flutter as she led him to the outbuilding she had chosen. There, she dropped to his shoulder, to speak softly.

“Neeno and I will be on the roof above you. We will wake you if they bring the children back, or . . . if there is need.”

Teb ducked inside and settled down against some barrels, listening for the first stirrings of the jackals. He had an ugly picture in his mind, of a jackal flying up to snatch a little owl from roof or wall. He had not dared drug the creatures enough to leave them asleep when Quazelzeg’s soldiers came out at dawn. From his position in the shed he could see part of the courtyard and the slave cage.

He did not mean to sleep. He dreamed of Thakkur, and felt his love powerfully, and then his admonition, Take care, Tebriel—take care . . . He woke to a fluttering “Ooo-ooo” that jerked him from sleep with his hand on his sword.

“Shh, Tebriel.” Afeena fluttered before him in the graying darkness. “They are coming to take the slaves to the fields. The two bard children were in the cellar! They are being brought up to the courtyard now.”

“Did you return the key?” “I did.”

Teb pulled his loose cloak over his sword, moved back among the tools, and knelt beside a wooden plow as if examining the blade. Soon there were footsteps behind him. He heard tools being taken up, men’s voices, then, from the yard, the clang of the metal slave gate. Chains rattled, and a voice barked, “Wake up, you filth. Get out of there, get in line.”

When there was sufficient commotion in the toolshed, Teb rose, took up half a dozen hoes, and joined the other men. The sky was a flat, heavy gray. The guards were featureless black shadows within their hooded cloaks.

The slave children were marched toward the fields, the limping ones slapped along by the guards. Teb could not see Marshy. The procession was flanked by growling jackals that had come awake irritable and snapping. As it grew lighter, Teb pretended to cuff the children, and he swore at them in a low, angry growl, mimicking the other guards.

On their left lay fields of cadacus plants, waist high and heavy with pods. The sky was growing lighter. But the woods on his right were still thick with shadow. He saw Marshy ahead, stumbling along in a group of children. He searched for the boy with red hair and the dark-haired girl and watched among the trees for the owls. Jackals began to fight among themselves, biting children as well as each other. Suddenly four small shapes winged between the shadowed trees, and Teb felt easier. If he or Marshy was discovered, it would be only minutes until the owls alerted the dragons. He had no sense of the dragons’ voices in his mind, or of Kiri.

As half the children were herded into a field, Teb saw the red-haired boy. The child had stumbled, and a guard kicked him down into the mud, knocking off the dirty cloth he had tied around his head. His hair was red as flame. He had a fresh, bloody wound across his forehead, and his face and arms were bruised. Teb saw Marshy looking, but when a guard paused, Marshy felt Teb’s fear and turned back, and began to hoe sullenly. The guard turned away to snap a cadacus pod off a bush, crack it open, and lick the dry fibers inside.

Teb moved ahead, keeping his face down. He looked for the owls but couldn’t see them. A lone jackal was winging low in the sky, but he knew the owls wouldn’t let themselves be taunted by jackals. He stood slackly, like the guards, seeming to stare at nothing as he searched the ranks of children for the girl. None of the guards paid any attention to him. The two un-men seemed caught between waking and that silent, stony staring the unliving did in place of sleep. The rest seemed simply sullen, or drugged.

Teb couldn’t see the girl. Hardly aware he was staring at the red-haired boy, he felt the child touch his mind.

Don’t stare at me—turn away! Who are you?

Teb reached to hit at a child near him, turning his back on the bard child. I’ve come to get you out. Where is the girl?

In the next field. Don’t trust her.

But she—

Don’t trust her. The boy went silent as, ahead of them, guards began herding some of the children together, teasing them, making them crawl and grovel, then trying to make them lick the cadacus pods. Some children refused, fighting with terror. Others took the drug obediently. When the obedient children groveled, the guards shoved them and laughed. They beat the children who refused the drugs. Teb watched, feeling sick, keeping himself still with a terrible effort. Marshy’s silent cry was pleading, No, Tebriel—don’t let them. . . .

The redheaded boy jerked around to stare at Marshy.

Teb watched, fists clenched. They would risk everything, they would risk the bard children, if they helped.

We can’t, Marshy!

He tried to meet the redheaded boy’s eyes, but the child’s face had gone closed and stupid. There was another scuffle, the guards swore, a girl screamed with fury, then voices were lowered. The guards sent the children back to work. Two soldiers started down the lane toward Teb dragging a girl between them.

It was the bard girl, her dark hair tangled around a pale oval face. She was fighting and shouting. “You promised! You promised you wouldn’t hurt me!” The soldiers dragged her toward Marshy, jerked Marshy out of the field, and shoved the two toward Teb. At once, he was surrounded by guards, their swords pricking his ribs and throat. When he whistled to signal the owls, a guard hit him across the face.

Marshy shouted, “Neeno . . .”A guard knocked him down. Teb heard an owl scream and saw jackals leaping and feathers on the wind.

Teb’s right leg was chained to Marshy’s crippled one. They were shoved against a tree as the jackals came to circle them, snapping at their ankles. The girl’s legs were chained together. Teb searched the empty sky. We are captured! Captured! When a jackal bit him hard, clamping its teeth on his ankle, he kicked it in the face. The guards laughed. They were led away, stumbling in the chains.

Behind them in the cadacus field, the redheaded boy watched their slow, hobbling retreat toward the castle, then returned to hoeing.