When Dragons Rage

69

From Procimre’s back, Isaura was able to see the disk of winter’s always-night curving sharply down over Aurolan’s white tundra. North they had flown, over the Sebcian peninsula, past Vorquellyn and the ruins of Fortress Draconis. Over the Boreal mountains they went and yet farther north. As the day died and darkness overswept the world, the purple dragon began to descend into the valley in which her mother’s castle sat.

Isaura shivered, but not with cold. The heat from the dragon’s muscles took the edge off the air. She had also never thought of her mother’s realm as cold, but seeing it shrouded in shadow, it suddenly seemed frigid to her, and part of her wanted to avoid this homecoming.

The rest of her immediately rebelled. Her mother feared betrayal, but she would not be the one to betray her. She trusts me, and I owe her everything. The young woman steeled herself for what she feared might be her mother’s displeasure, and sought those things that might brighten her mother’s outlook.

There were not many. Neskartu had been slain by a child. The dragon Vriisureol had destroyed the rest of the Conservatory students. The entire army besieging Nawal had been eliminated. Naelros had not been a favorite of her mother’s, but the loss of any allies hurt.

Trib’s death had saddened Isaura. She’d beseeched the kryalniri to join her and escape, but he had refrained. He knew Vriisureol would permit only her escape; his presence would put her in jeopardy.

The dragon landed before the black citadel, then reared up and rested his chin on the balcony. Isaura unhitched herself, scaled his neck, passed between his horns, then slipped off his nose and onto the stone. Without so much as a hiss or murmur, the dragon withdrew, and Isaura did not regret his slinking departure.

The grand chamber she entered had been changed somewhat, but it took her a moment to figure out how. Some of the furnishings had vanished, though from the smashed piece of a bench leg near the hearth, she supposed they had been broken up and fed into the flames.

Opposite the fireplace, an inky blackness stained the wall. A couple of steps into the room she realized it was not paint, but the flaccid flesh Neskartu had last worn. She saw the limp limbs and the withered wings. It hung there from the wand, which appeared to have been driven into the stone to half its length.

Isaura fought another shiver, then smiled happily. “Mother, it is good to see you again.”

Chytrine’s head came up and, just for a moment, Isaura caught the last of a venomous expression as it bled away. A smile replaced it, though not as broad as the one she wore. “Daughter, you are come home. Had you not arrived within the hour, I would have sent Nefrai-laysh to find you.”

The smaller of the two sullanciri sketched a bow. “Within the hour, the skies I would scour, to find that shining star which, dear Isaura, you are.”

“My lord Nefrai-laysh devalues the stars.”

“He thinks too much of them, you mean to say, daughter.” Her mother’s blue-green eyes narrowed slightly. “You were seen home safely?”

“Yes, Mother. Vriisureol allowed me to come north.” She hesitated and bit her lower lip. “He destroyed the army at Nawal. He killed Naelros.”

Her mother waved that report away. “That army never should have been there. It was useless, and remains useless. The fall of Caledo will render that loss insignificant.”

“It pleases me that you are not disappointed, Mother.” Isaura smiled again and looked at the other sullanciri. “And you, Lord Nefrai-kesh, how goes the war in Okrannel?”

“It is done, Princess.” Nefrai-kesh smiled politely.

“You defeated Adrogans?”

“By no means. He has taken Svarskya and Okrannel. He has won his prize.”

Isaura frowned. “I don’t understand.”

Chytrine laughed lightly. “It was necessary for Adrogans to succeed in order for us to succeed. We have given them back a ravaged country, while we have made great gains in the south. When Muroso falls, we will be farther south than we were before, and Oriosa will not be an obstacle.”

“But, Okrannel…”

“Isaura sweet, you do not understand. In Svarskya are hidden the seeds of the Southlands’ destruction.” Chytrine’s voice took on an edge. “Okrannel’s loss did come sooner than I had intended, but other events conspire to make up for this setback.“

Nefrai-kesh dropped to one knee and bowed his head. “It is to my mortification that I have failed you so, Empress.”

“A minor failure, pet, and one worth nothing compared to your victories.” Chytrine reached a hand out and lifted his chin. “You will not fail me again, will you?”

“Never, Mistress.”

“Good. There are important tasks to which we must attend. You, Nefrai-kesh, shall remain here to coordinate things. Your son has been given his assignment. I shall be taking Myrall’mara and Ferxigo with me. Anarus shall press the siege. Things are working to my satisfaction.”

“What would you have me do, Mother?”

Chytrine regarded Isaura with wide-eyed innocence. “You, child? I would have you remain here and learn from Lord Nefrai-kesh.”

“But is there nothing else I could do?”

“Oh, sweet child, what is it?”

Isaura started to speak, but her throat thickened. How can I tell her that I feel she does not trust me? “Mother, I did not mean to fail you.”

“Fail me? Oh, no, child, you mustn’t think that.” The Aurolani Empress moved to her daughter and embraced her. “You have seen much in the south, and I wish you a chance to know peace again. To know peace before I call upon you to help me once more.”

Chytrine took her by the arms and pulled back to look up into her silver eyes. “I have minor tasks to attend to, and so I shall deal with them now. There is the matter of the ruby fragment. It is not lost to me, and may well be had for a reasonable price.”

Isaura’s face brightened. “That is wonderful, Mother!”

“Yes, child, it is. Three pieces are so much more powerful than two, and the ruby especially so. Even if the others were gathered to oppose me, the balance of power would leave me with the advantage on the ground.”

Isaura glanced at where Neskartu’s flesh hung from the wall. “What of the youth who did that?”

“A vexing problem, yes, but one we shall work upon.” Chytrine reached up and caressed Isaura’s left cheek. “Fear not, daughter, the enemy’s victories shall sour in his mouth, and what he swallows will poison him. The course may not be the one plotted, but our destination shall remain the same.”

Adrogans rubbed his left hand over his face. “Read that to me again, please?” The signal-mage’s exasperation filled his voice. “My lord, if you do not believe me, you can read the reply yourself.”

The Jeranese general spitted the man with a furious glance. “It is not you I disbelieve, it is the message.”

The signal-mage clutched the arcanslata to his chest. “You do not understand, sir…”

“READ!”

His bellow made the man jump back and brought a smile to Phfas’ face. Both Gilthalarwin of the Loquelven Blackfeathers and General Caro managed to keep their faces blank, but he knew they were mulling over what they had heard.

“From King Stefin of Okrannel to General Markus Adrogans. We have heard of your victory and our heart knows great joy. The debt owed to you by the Okrans people can never be repaid. Your victory is the greatest ever won in our nation and shall be sung of forever. You will ever be revered in our nation, and we shall always consider you a friend of the highest order.

“From Queen Carus of Jerana to General Markus Adrogans. I convey to you my grand admiration at your feat. Six months ago the liberation of Okrannel was but a dream, and one many said could not be realized. You have proved them wrong, and proved yourself the greatest military mind alive. While nothing would please us more than to have you join us in Narriz for the Council of Kings, we would not trouble you to overcome your aversion to traveling by water. We bid you remain there in Svarskya until you are called forth again.”

The signal-mage looked up. “It has all been authenticated.”

Adrogans nodded. “I believe you. Leave us now.”

The signal-mage withdrew from the chamber that had previously housed Nefrai-kesh. Adrogans waited until the man was gone, then Phfas invoked his yrun of air to swirl about the tower and prevent the words spoken from being overheard.

The Jeranese general sat back in the high-backed wooden chair at the head of the table. “That’s it. We are thanked and told to wait: no word of reinforcements or redeployment.”

Caro nodded. “I do not know if I should take heart that King Augustus did not send a message of congratulations. I wonder if there is dissent in Narriz over what should be done in the future?”

“I have no doubt there is, my friend.” Adrogans shifted his shoulders as Pain stabbed long talons down either side of his neck. “Things would be much worse if our leaders knew the full import of this victory.”

In searching the city, several important discoveries had been made. There had been boombags rigged to explode, but their fuses had never been lit. Other searchers had located a workshop where firedirt was formulated.

Equally important, a ship that had been scuttled in the harbor had not sunk in deep water. At low tide men had gone out to it and discovered a cargo that included dragonel shot and a number of dragonels in watertight crates. The common soldier took it as a very good sign that their advance had been so rapid that Nefrai-kesh had not been able to use those weapons.

Adrogans was well aware that the weapons had been deployed. Ever since Chytrine had introduced the first dragonel a quarter century before, the secrets of their manufacture and the production of firedirt had been sought after. Dothan Cavarre, the Draconis Baron, had jealously guarded that secret and refused to share it with the nations of the Southlands. He feared that once they had a weapon capable of bringing down castle and city walls, wars would rage in the south. When Chytrine came again, there would be no one to oppose her.

And now they have given me these secrets. He shook his head. Here he was, a victorious general who had just been given weapons that would guarantee his invincibility. He already had Okrannel. Jerana was his nation, so he could just declare Okrannel a province of a Jeranese empire. Gurol and Valicia would fall quickly enough, then an alliance with Alcida against Chytrine would allow both nations to descend upon and divide up Reqorra, Helurca, and Salnia. Were Adrogans to let Alcida become the battleground where he fought Chytrine, he would have that nation, too.

Gilthalarwin gave Adrogans an easy smile. “I wish I could imagine your leaders as being shrewd enough to see the dragonels for what they are. I fear they will just see them as a means to dominating their neighbors. You are right to conceal this information.”

Caro shook his head. “There is a problem, however. This information will not remain secret forever. Once someone—let us use King Scrainwood as an example—learns you have the dragonels, he will point to a conspiracy against nations that do not. He could choose, then, to accept Chytrine’s offer of protection against you, and there are other nations that would do likewise to avoid destruction.”

“Fools who deserve her,” Phfas hissed derisively. “They flow from fear to fear.”

“That may be true, Uncle, but do their people deserve it?”

“If their people allow it.”

The Loquelf frowned. “And if they do not, they attack their leaders and overthrow them. More chaos and Chytrine to benefit.”

Adrogans sighed heavily. “We are congratulated, but told to wait. For what, we do not know, and that will destroy this army as surely as the dragonels would have.”

The Alcidese general nodded in agreement. “Our army needs to be active. I would like to put them to work rebuilding the city’s defenses.”

“Yes, we want them to think we are going to make sure Svarskya does not fall when the Aurolani return.” Adrogans looked at the Loquelf. “I wonder, Mistress, if you and your people would be willing to engineer a deception for me?“

The elf’s dark eyes sparkled with amusement. “How much of one?”

“I want to send your scouts out, both to the east toward Crozt and northwest toward the mountains. I suspect there are Aurolani troops operating in the east. If there are not, or they are insufficient to threaten Svarskya, I want reports from the west indicating that Aurolani troops are gathering for a strike on Svarskya. I need the reports to hold this army together.”

“And to convince those in the south that they should not call their units home?”

“It is a mild deception. The Aurolani will interpret your scouting as preparation for an invasion, which will tie up some troops.”

“And if we find nothing to the north and west?”

Adrogans smiled carefully. “Chytrine gave us the dragonels in hopes that we might create an empire. She expected Okrannel might be the northern reach of it, but the Ghost March exists further north. It’s been a quarter century since King Augustus took an army through it, and he never had dragonels. I may carve out the empire she wants, but just not the one she expects.”