Spine of the Dragon

by Kevin J. Anderson

Lightning flashed in a blinding, skittering display outside the windows, and thunder boomed with such ferocity that it shook the stone walls. When the roar faded, a disturbing sound came from behind the heavy doors of Mandan’s quarters across the hall. The prince let out a terrified scream.

  10

  UNDER clear skies that showed no hint of the terrible sandstorm, the sandwreths departed from Bannriya, riding their augas back toward the distant desert. They left King Adan with many weighty matters to consider.

  He had long depended on Penda and her father as sounding boards, and now he summoned them, along with his vassal lords, advisors, trade representatives, diplomats, and military experts. Word had passed swiftly through the city after the wreths were gone, and his chief councilors present in the city came at his call, though the vassal lords from more distant counties in Suderra would be several days arriving.

  As the meeting began, young Hom scribed notes, doing his best to keep up with the stream of suggestions and arguments made by the gathered dignitaries. No one had answers about the wreths, because few had even considered such a question before.

  Only a few years ago, their greatest concerns had been possible civil war in Suderra as the boy king Bullton was ousted from the throne, the corrupt regents sent into exile, and Adan Starfall acclaimed as the new king. No one had ever expected, much less wanted, the aloof creator race to return.

  Finding his ornate chair uncomfortable, Adan got up and paced the room. “Why would the wreths come back now, after two thousand years? Have they been in hiding all this time? Recovering?”

  Though the others offered uninspired theories, Penda looked at him. “They are back because they expect to fight a war that will remake the world.”

  “Cra, they may intend to cause the war themselves!” Hale muttered. “You know the legends. They need to wake the buried dragon and kill it, then their god will return, save his chosen ones, and make a new world from scratch.”

  “I don’t see how that benefits humans in any way,” Adan said.

  “Humanity will lose, no matter which wreth faction wins,” said Lady Ylloh, a plump middle-aged widow who ran her county with extreme efficiency.

  “Why would the sandwreths want us as allies?” Adan asked. “What can we offer them? You all saw how they summoned a dust storm.”

  “And are the frostwreths better or worse?” Hale asked. “Why should we choose sides, when we are doomed either way?”

  Penda drew her brows together in a skeptical expression. On the stand, Xar ruffled his wings and leaned forward to peer at each speaker in turn, as if he disagreed with every word spoken. On a stool next to the green ska, Hom glanced up, then returned to his writing, catching up with the conversation.

  Hale Orr tapped his good hand on the tabletop. “Maybe the Utauk tribes could venture into the desert and see what the sandwreths have been doing out in the Furnace. We could say we are trying to initiate trade. Yes, why not? We will make it true.”

  “You’re welcome to send an expedition out there, but don’t expect your people to return.” said Lord Buroni, who ruled one of the larger counties. He had come to Bannriya for a wine festival and delayed his departure because of the dust storm. “No one comes back from the Furnace.”

  “Unless the sandwreths help us,” Adan pointed out, though the words didn’t ring true. “Queen Voo made no threat other than to warn us of a disaster that may come.”

  “Just as a spider makes no threat to a fly hovering near its web,” Penda said, drawing a circle around her heart. “Wreths make me uneasy. Cra, they’re like … goose bumps in my mind.” She shivered as if from something she sensed, but could not define. Xar squirmed on his post, absorbing Penda’s emotions through their heart link.

  “We can’t go to war with an entire race, especially not the wreths,” said Lord Adoc, a war veteran from the hill country. “We don’t know how much is legend and how much is truth, but we do know that their last wars wrecked the land. We spent two thousand years healing it, and their ruined cities still litter the countryside.” His stony expression became defiant. “This land is ours, Sire, and I’m not keen to hand it back to them. The wreths created us. Do they still consider themselves our masters?”

  “What if they do?” asked Adan. It was a disturbing possibility. “What can we do about it?”

  * * *

  The sky was thick with stars when Adan stepped out onto the open gazing deck that night. He had spent countless hours on countless nights looking for patterns in the sky, letting his thoughts wander, but tonight the universe gave him no peace. Until now, he had been satisfied with the world and his place in it, ruling Suderra with the woman he loved, with their first child on the way. As king, he was giving the people a fresh start, and he would do right by them.

  While being raised as a prince in Convera Castle, he and his father had often stood on a similar gazing deck, watching for streaks of meteors. Starfall. His own name reminded him of those times. Here in the southern kingdom, he made meticulous notes about the stars overhead and wrote letters to his father describing how the constellations were different from those back in Osterra. Now, it was imperative that he write his father a warning letter. The konag needed to know about the return of the wreths.

  “You prefer to spend your hours out here alone rather than in a much friendlier place—with me?” Penda stepped out to join him in the darkness, with Xar on her shoulder. Now that the wreths had gone, the ska seemed much calmer. Penda wore comfortable attire for the night, a loose white gown that seemed all the more alluring because of its simplicity. “Come to our chambers, my Starfall.”

  “Even the stars can’t compete with such an offer.” He kissed her on the cheek, let his lips linger there as he breathed in the scent of lavender and sage from the soap she used. “Do you think the baby would be scandalized if we made love?”

  Penda took his arm. “The baby had better get used to it. We certainly haven’t worried about it thus far.”

  The ska extended his wings to balance on her shoulder and looked accusingly at Adan. The king laughed. “Oh, Xar, I owe you a debt of gratitude. If not for you, Penda and I would never have found each other.”

  The reptile bird made a rude noise and preened his long green feathers.

  “It wasn’t entirely up to him,” Penda said, stroking under the ska’s faceted eyes. “But he did his part.”

  Adan remembered well how they had met. On a bright, sunny day shortly after taking the throne of Suderra, to wide acclaim, Adan had gone out to reassure the people of Bannriya who had gathered for the celebration. The young king wore a high-collared cape, a brocade vest, and a gold pendant that dangled on a thin chain around his neck. Addressing the people from an elevated dais, he had opened his arms to cheers and applause, and sunlight flashed on the pendant.

  Just then a wild green-scaled ska swooped in with startling speed. When the king reeled backward in surprise, Xar snatched the bright object from Adan’s neck and flew away with the prize, burbling and clicking in triumph. Momentarily stunned by the reptile bird’s audacity, Adan had stared up into the sky. The crowd gasped in horror and many shouted that it was a terrible omen.

  The new king, however, let out a loud, genuinely heartfelt chuckle that immediately dissolved the tension. He pointed to the sky. “I may be the ruler of Suderra, but it seems the skas plan to be rebels!”

  Taking their cue from him, the people also laughed, the sounds swelling into a chorus of relief and amusement. He continued the day’s celebrations without mentioning the incident again.

  King Adan was sure he had lost the pendant permanently, but the next day a beautiful young daughter of the Utauk tribes presented herself at the castle doors, begging to speak with him. A green ska rode on a leather pad on her shoulder, his wings tied down with a thong. The reptile bird twitched, seemingly incensed.

  But Adan kept his attention on the young woman. She had deep brown hair that flowed below her shoulders, dark eyes that reminded him of the n
ight sky, and full lips set in a serious expression. Adan immediately wondered what they would look like if curved in a smile. Meeting his curious gaze, the young Utauk woman extended her cupped hands, opening them to reveal the gold pendant he had lost the day before.

  “My ska took this from you, Sire. He is greedy and hard to control.” Adan glanced at the scaled bird, while the young woman contritely averted her dark eyes.

  “I’ve heard that is often the case with skas,” Adan said. “What is your name?”

  “I am Penda Orr,” she said in a soft voice that could not hide her pride, “daughter of Hale Orr of the Utauk tribes. We do not steal.” She shot a glare at her ska. “Xar needs to learn that as well.”

  Intrigued, the king rose from the throne and walked down the marble stairs to accept the pendant from her outstretched hands. He held it up, letting the gold chain dangle, and it caught the ska’s faceted gaze. “Thank you for returning it to me, Penda Orr. I didn’t expect that at all. Be thankful that under my rule we don’t execute thieves.” He wanted to know more about this young woman. Pocketing the pendant, he continued in a serious voice. “But they must still be punished. Don’t you agree?”

  “You are the king, and that is your prerogative, Sire.” Penda remained tense, while Adan paced. Xar ruffled his feathers. She added, “I have a heart link with my ska, and I feel the guilt as well. What sort of punishment would you suggest?” She seemed to be beginning a negotiation, which was not unexpected from an Utauk.

  Stroking his lip, Adan said, “The pendant has been returned, so in this case, I think imprisonment is sufficient. For a week.”

  “Imprisonment, Sire?” Penda asked, alarmed. The ska buzzed and clicked.

  Remembering that his predecessor King Syrus had kept falcons for hunting, Adan called for a cage to be brought from the castle’s storage rooms. “We’ll keep your ska here in my throne room, on display as a thief. Perhaps other skas will learn not to cross me.” He hoped Penda understood he was teasing.

  She gave an uncertain smile. “I’m sure Xar will learn his lesson.” She drew a circle around her heart.

  Though Xar grumbled and twitched, Penda forced him into the cage and closed the door. She waggled a finger at her pet. “Cra, it serves you right for what you’ve done. Stealing from our new king!”

  Adan found Penda Orr intriguing, and he continued with mock seriousness. “There is more to the punishment. Unfortunately, I have no experience in caring for a ska, therefore you have to remain here at the castle to tend to the prisoner until his sentence is over.”

  His plan worked perfectly, and the beautiful young woman stayed with him for the required week. Since she had to pass the time somehow, Penda ate meals with Adan, and they talked. She taught him Utauk games of chance, which she always won, while he showed her Osterran games he had learned as a prince in Convera. Her company seemed quite natural to him, and it became the favorite part of the day.

  Because he required Penda to stay for so many days, her father’s caravan had to depart without her. The large convoy of families and goods headed off into the hills, so Penda resigned herself to stay in Bannriya until such time as the tribes circled back to the capital city.

  But since he was king, Adan decided to solve that problem for her. When Xar’s formal sentence was over, he mounted an expedition. With Penda and her ska, they rode hard to catch up with the much slower Utauk caravan, and Adan delivered the proud young woman to her father, much to Hale Orr’s delight.

  Only later did Adan learn that Penda had trained her ska to snatch the pendant, just so she would have an opportunity to meet him. A devious plot! But considering how their romance had blossomed, how could he resent it? He could not have planned it better if he had tried.

  Now in their chambers with candles burning low and giving off a sweet scent of beeswax, the two engaged in a slow dance of disrobing, paying attention to every touch of fabric, silken hair, warm skin. They kissed deeply, trading warm breath with each other, in no rush.

  On a stand near the wall, Xar drowsed, basking in their contented emotions after two tense days.

  Adan brushed his lips along Penda’s shoulder, kissed her ear, stroked her hair, letting his fingertips linger and absorbing every small whisper of sensation. He pulled off her soft white shift, and she helped him remove his loose shirt, speaking no words. They reclined together on their bed. Penda purred while he kissed above her heart and then reverently touched the smooth swell of her golden belly where the baby was just beginning to show.

  He kissed her again and caressed her skin with his palm as they gradually worked themselves closer and closer together. She wrapped herself around him, holding him, building their passion until he carefully, gently entered her.

  They embraced and rocked in a perfect duet for a long while until they were warm and spent. For nearly an hour, Adan had managed to forget about wreths and a war that might destroy the world.

  Afterward, Penda held him, whispered in his ear, “Starfall, you are truly a good ruler, a good husband, and a wonderful lover.” He drifted off to sleep, barely hearing her final sad, whispered words, “And there is so much you don’t know.”

  11

  THE next morning, as Kollanan prepared to ride north to see his daughter and grandsons, he adjusted the blanket and cinched the saddle straps on his warhorse, a sturdy gelding named Storm.

  An Utauk trader arrived in the courtyard, and his pony’s saddlebags were nearly bursting with goods to sell. Koll recognized the balding trader. “Darga! It’s about time you came back to Fellstaff. Tafira says our pantries are nearly empty.”

  Darga’s rounded cheeks were flushed in the morning chill as he tied his pony’s halter to a post. “I have a full load of spices, Sire. Expensive and rare. I hope the lady offers me a good price for them.”

  “If she didn’t, you wouldn’t keep coming back.”

  The Utauk laughed. “Cra, that’s true!”

  Queen Tafira emerged from the keep wearing an embroidered day-robe lined with rabbit fur. “Did you bring cumin seed? Fire-curry leaves? Black mustard?”

  “A bit of everything, my lady.” The Utauk opened pouches to display powders and dried roots. Even from several feet away, Koll could smell the mingled scents, some pungent, some bitter, some sweet. The trader held up a packet in his stubby fingers. “Red and yellow pepper, enough to make your eyes water—clears out the tear ducts, so you never need to cry.” He continued to rummage. “Mace, crisroot, nutmeg for your bakery, even some blue poppy seeds.”

  Tafira inspected other pouches and pulled out a tiny paper packet, opened it, took a sniff. “Saffron? Real saffron?”

  “Indeed, and cinnamon bark, rolled and dried. All obtained at great effort and expense.”

  She gave him a knowing look. “Most of these come from Ishara. Did you trade with the spice farmers in the jungles of Janhari District? Did you buy them in a market at Serepol?” She lowered her voice with a cautionary tone. “Or were they confiscated from Isharan ships during raids by the Commonwealth navy?”

  Darga drew a circle around his heart. “Utauk traders are neutral and we go where we wish. I couldn’t identify the origin of each packet here, my lady.”

  Tafira frowned. “I want to know if there might be an aftertaste of blood, if they were taken through piracy.”

  Darga’s expression hardened. “You mean the blood of Commonwealth men? Or the blood of Isharans? There’s been enough spilled on both sides. Utauks see it all.”

  Tafira didn’t deny that and looked away as she set aside the pouches she wanted. “It ruins the flavor in either case.”

  Emerging from the keep, Lasis ignored the trader’s haggling and went directly to his king. The Brava wore his usual black leather outfit and traveling cape, with the golden ramer band and a fighting knife at his belt. “I’m prepared to ride with you, Sire. Two of us can travel just as swiftly as one.”

  Koll patted the sword at his side. “The northern road is wide and well traveled, e
ven if we haven’t heard from Lake Bakal in a while. Stay with Tafira and help her fight the household battles.”

  Though not convinced, the Brava relented. “As you wish, Sire. You’ve made the ride many times, and I have spent years scaring the lawless away. The roads are safe.” He flashed a very small smile. “You are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, as you’ve shown many times.”

  Leaning close to him, Koll said, “You serve me well, Lasis, but sometimes it’s good for a man just to be alone. Let me get reacquainted with my own thoughts.”

  The Utauk trader departed smiling, and Tafira had enough fresh spices to supply her kitchen for months. Saying goodbye to his wife, Koll wrapped his muscular arms around her waist and crushed her against him. She chided him, “I’m not a silly romantic girl anymore!”

  “That’s still how I see you, beloved.” He kissed her, then swung up onto the black warhorse. “Don’t ever change!”

  Koll rode out of the courtyard and Storm pranced along, as if proud to be out on a grand ride. Leaving the castle, the king made his way through the city of Fellstaff. The thick defensive walls were built from a mixture of fieldstone and perfectly cut blocks scavenged from wreth ruins. He waved to the guards as he rode through the northern gate and headed on the main road toward the mountains in the distance. The forests were still lush with golden aspen and red maples, but in another few weeks the leaves would fall, leaving the trees bare.

  Enjoying the beauty, Kollanan no longer thought about the old war with Ishara, but rather considered his land and his people. He thought of their daughter Jhaqi, who had grown from a spunky tomboy into a fine young woman who married the town leader of Lake Bakal, a calm and caring man named Gannon who was altogether too proud of his mustache. Their two sons, Tomko and Birch, were delightful and energetic grandchildren; they often had other village children over to play, creating even more chaos for their mother to manage.

  Tucked in his pack Koll carried carved wooden animals, a fox, a spotted cat, a bear, and a trout, as gifts for the boys. He liked to carve new ones while the two watched with rapt expressions. He would press a block of soft pine to his ear, saying things like, “Listen, there’s an animal inside here! I think it’s a pig. I’d better let him out.” Then he’d carve with his hunting knife, flicking curls of pale wood onto the floor as he wore down the edges, shaped the curves, and produced a little pig. Because Tomko liked the first one so much, Koll had been forced to carve a second pig so that his other grandson wouldn’t feel slighted.