Spine of the Dragon

by Kevin J. Anderson

  The konag felt a knot of fear in his stomach, seeing the torn expression on Utho’s face as he struggled with his beliefs and convictions. Conn was not so sure. “I know your doubts, old friend. You say it can’t be true, but you also know the legends, and you heard what my son and my brother said. If the wreths have indeed returned, they vowed to wake the dragon beneath those mountains. What if it is true, after all?” He knew the answer to his own question. They might be facing the end of all things.

  Conn gestured to the guard captain and the refugees. “See that these poor people are taken care of. Give them food, shelter and clothing.” He knew what he had to do. “Stay your horse, Utho. I need more than just a scout. Gather troops, tents, horses, and supplies so we can mount a full expedition.”

  He placed a hand on the ash-caked cape that covered his son’s shoulders. “Mandan, you’re the prince. Bring your maps. Let us see what’s happened to our land.” The ash and smoke in the air made him cough. He caught his breath. “As konag, I have to respond to this in person, see if there is any evidence of the great dragon after all. We were warned, and I didn’t listen.”

  52

  WHEN the Utauk trading ship pulled into Serepol Harbor, the Isharans sent out a pilot boat to guide them to a segregated dock. The proud voyagier directed his sailors to pull on rigging ropes, trim the sails, and tend the rudder so they smoothly reached their designated berth at the far end of the bay.

  Resplendent in crimson and black, Hale Orr stood at the Glissand’s bow, proudly lifting his chin, but he felt uneasy. After their tense last stop at Fulcor Island, he didn’t know what to expect here. The simple Utauk circle on the mainsail identified them as a neutral party, and the Isharans would know that they carried desirable cargo. Most Isharans wouldn’t admit that they wanted anything from the Commonwealth, but they bought the items nevertheless.

  Mak Dur looked at the foreign harbor with grim satisfaction as the wind blew his purple silks and his long dark hair. When the ship approached the dock, sailors threw down hawsers to burly Isharan workers who wrapped them around stanchions, then heaved the hull firmly against the pier. The Utauks waved at the crowd on the dock already gathering to pore over the goods for sale.

  “Bring your merchants and your customers!” Hale shouted. “We have treasures, but not enough for everyone in Serepol. Some will go without! Who will be the lucky ones?” He remembered serving aboard a trading ship in his younger years. Being a grandson of Shella din Orr made him an important man among the tribes, the old woman had so many grandsons that Hale was never all that special, so he had to earn his prominent position by accomplishing great things. That was the way any person should make himself special, no matter what his bloodline might be.

  He waited for the first crates of foodstuffs, bales of fabric, and baskets of wrapped trinkets to be brought down the gangway and placed on display. The Utauks strung ribbons and spread out blankets, setting up their market right there rather than venturing into the city. The buyers came to them.

  Hale hopped onto the pier, welcoming the Isharan customers, but also keeping his ears open, because he was here to ask questions and gather information as well. The first time he had come to Ishara, he was only twenty years old, cocky and full of curiosity, sure he would make his fortune in a single voyage. Instead, he had lost most of his profits in a gambling game with local dockworkers. He had been naïvely confident in his Utauk luck, not realizing that even luck could be trumped by clever cheating, and the dockworkers cheated. His real good fortune was that they hadn’t beaten or killed him, but had been satisfied just to take his money.

  This time, Hale was on a mission. The beginning is the end is the beginning. He needed to learn if anyone in Ishara had also heard of the wreths returning, even in their far-flung districts. Since no humans had even been to Ishara during the ancient wars, no one knew if the wreths had touched this land. If they were returning in Suderra, maybe they were here as well.

  He pondered who might be the best person to ask, someone who had information more reliable than rumors, although even rumors might be worth investigating. Serepol was a bustling harbor with sea captains and wealthy merchants, as well as duty-bound sailors, armored soldiers, and illiterate carters. If any strange incidents had occurred, surely someone would be willing to tell tales.

  Merchants pushed their way to the front of the curious customers gathered out on the pier, hoping to buy large quantities. The entire crowd parted, though, as six armored men marched forward in a military file, wearing golden capes and stony expressions. Some people scattered, while others were preoccupied with bidding on the items spread out for sale. The soldiers paid little attention to the displayed Utauk goods, but suspiciously regarded the ship itself.

  Looking from Hale to Mak Dur, the guard commander called out, “You come from the Commonwealth. Who is your merchant captain? Empra Iluris wishes to speak to him. She has questions.”

  Hale drew a circle around his heart and forced himself to maintain a broad smile. “As do I.” This was better than he expected. The empra would certainly know if wreths had caused trouble in Ishara. “I expect it’ll be a mutually beneficial conversation.”

  Leaving Mak Dur and the crew with their goods for sale, he willingly joined the gold-uniformed soldiers. They folded around him and marched him along the pier into the city toward the palace. Maybe this was a sign of good luck after all.

  * * *

  He bowed deeply before Empra Iluris under the arched ceilings of the palace’s reception hall. “Utauks have always been welcome in Ishara, Excellency. Your people are eager to buy our wares.”

  “I did not say you weren’t welcome. Perhaps you have something I wish to buy,” Iluris said. She was thin and small-framed. Her face was pretty, a bit washed out with age and stress, her ash-blond hair mostly covered by the wrapped folds of her headdress. If she had worn normal clothes on the street, she would have drawn no notice, but here, on her gilded throne, she was magnificent. Her hands and throat sparkled with jewelry. “Utauks have been good sources of information for us.”

  “We sell a variety of items,” he answered cautiously.

  “Tell me about the Commonwealth’s plans for war.”

  The empra’s guards, stationed at the wall in the throne room, had made no move since he arrived. He could sense them watching him, as if he might pose a threat.

  The question surprised him. “Nobody wants war, I assure you, Excellency. It is bad for business, on all sides. Trade is better when the customers aren’t killing one another.”

  “I could make you the same reassurances, Merchant Captain. War is wasteful and certainly not my intention after so many years of peace.” Iluris drew her lips tighter. “But not every person in this land believes the same. What about honor? What about revenge? What about all the blood that’s been shed, recently and in the mists of history?”

  “Blood is a costly thing, often more expensive than gold.”

  A teenaged girl with short dark hair entered the throne room and unceremoniously took a seat beside the empra. She was dressed in colorful finery similar to what Iluris wore, but she seemed awkward in her garments, as if they were a costume. Hale gave a polite nod. “Is this your heir, Excellency?”

  Iluris responded with a quick smile while the girl flushed. “That remains to be seen. For now, Cemi is here to learn, and my discussions with you are part of that learning.”

  The presence of the unexpected girl changed the tone of this meeting. Taking a gamble, he chose to fix his attention on Cemi. “And how may I help? What would be most useful? I have seen a great deal in my travels. I listen and observe everywhere I go.”

  Iluris spoke up. “Private Isharan vessels and fishing boats have disappeared beyond our coast. We suspect that Commonwealth navy ships from Fulcor Island sank them.”

  “Or maybe captured them,” Cemi added. “Less wasteful, isn’t it?”

  A fleshy man hurried through the doors, surrounded by imagined importance. He wo
re a dark blue caftan and a gold medallion around his neck. “Apologies, Excellency. I came as soon as I heard of our visitor.” He glanced at Hale. “Is he a spy?”

  “We are about to commence negotiations for his services, Key Priestlord Klovus. He’s given me no reason to think we’re not friends.” She turned back to Hale. “Now, tell us what you know about our missing ships, Merchant Captain.”

  Negotiations for his services? Cautiously, Hale pointed out, “I hear that there is outrage in the court of Konag Conndur over a recent Isharan raid that destroyed a peaceful coastal town. It seems that a godling was involved. Some might say that such raids are not the best way of ensuring peace between the two continents.”

  A scowl crossed Iluris’s face, but Hale didn’t think the displeasure was directed at him. “Peace and war tug us back and forth, and we hold on as tightly as we can,” she said. “I can assure you that the raid was a lawless act not sanctioned by my throne. One can impose laws, but laws mean nothing to the lawless.” Her pointed words seemed to be directed at … Klovus?

  The priestlord huffed. “But the depredations from Fulcor Island can’t be excused! We’ve let that wound fester for decades, and maybe it’s time for us to take back the island. It is, after all, part of the ancestral land of Ishara. Our first ships stopped there on their voyage to this continent.”

  Hale straightened, looking to the priestlord. “Konag Conndur would argue that the island rightfully belongs to the Commonwealth.”

  Iluris leaned heavily on the arm of her chair. “The sad fact is, Fulcor is a bleak and windswept rock that no one should covet, much less shed blood over.” She turned her hard gaze to him. “I am more interested in purchasing a wider range of information, Merchant Captain. As neutral Utauk traders, you are accepted everywhere. You travel widely and freely. That makes you very valuable. I want to buy your eyes, as an observer. Whenever you come back to Ishara, simply tell me what you’ve seen in the Commonwealth.”

  Tempted, he smiled and moved on to the next step in the dance. “I’m glad you asked so bluntly, Excellency. That brings me to the real reason I wanted to come to Serepol. I have indeed seen something interesting, maybe dangerous. This can be the start of our interchange. Share and be shared. My information comes at no charge, except that you must answer a question in return.”

  She was intrigued. “Oh? And what is that?”

  He again drew the circle over his heart. “Wreths. The ancient race. A group of them has reappeared from the wastelands.”

  “Wreths? Still alive?” Klovus scoffed. “That’s not possible.”

  The priestlord’s unfiltered reaction told Hale most of what he needed to know. Still, he looked hard at the empra’s stony face. “Has there been any sign of wreths in Ishara, Excellency? This continent has stronger magic than what remains in the old world. The ancient race may come here to take advantage of such a resource.”

  Klovus started to answer, but Iluris silenced him. “I can assure you I’ve heard nothing of it, Merchant Captain, and I just completed a procession across all of my districts. No one speaks of wreths here. They are creatures of the old world and the distant past. They have no relevance to Ishara.”

  Her answer gave him great relief. “There, Excellency. Our relationship is off to a good start.”

  The empra leaned forward again. “I am not concerned about wreths. I had in mind hiring you for more conventional spying, about more conventional things.”

  He was more comfortable with a familiar conversation. “I’ll take your gold, Excellency, and I will be happy to provide you with information, so long as you don’t object if I also sell my information about Ishara to the konag? Utauks must remain neutral. If those are acceptable terms, I am happy to share my observations with you.”

  Klovus turned red. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then made a rude noise. “Impossible and ridiculous.”

  Iluris just smiled. “What if you agreed to give Konag Conndur only the facts about us that I tell you to give him?”

  “So long as what I say is the truth.”

  Cemi blurted out, “And who decides the truth?”

  “In this instance, I do,” Hale said, giving her a respectful nod. “No one else.”

  Iluris pondered for a long moment. The key priestlord shifted from one foot to the other as if bursting to ask questions, but a cold glare from the empra kept him silent. Finally, she rose from her gilded throne. “Thank you for your conversation, Merchant Captain. That’s not the sort of bargain I want to make at present.”

  53

  AFTER the long journey home over the mountains from Convera, embracing his wife was Adan’s first order of business.

  Penda greeted him at the Bannriya city gates as he rode in with the twenty soldier escorts. Adan focused only on the beautiful Utauk princess he had married. She wore maroon silk skirts embroidered with leaf designs. Penda stretched up to greet him, tilting her head back, and he leaned down to kiss her, running his fingers through her rich, dark hair. The escort soldiers watched, smiling.

  When he gave her a chance to draw a breath, Penda said, “I send Xar out to look for you every day, so I knew you were coming. Cra, I’ve been waiting for hours since he spotted you! You should have ridden faster.” Adan dismounted and swept her into his arms.

  Her ska circled overhead, then landed gracefully on her shoulder with a flounce of green plumage, seemingly unimpressed that Adan was back.

  “Suderra was lonely without its king,” she said, “just as I’ve been lonely without my husband.”

  He touched her stomach, feeling the gentle swell of their baby. “You have a part of me with you at all times.”

  “I don’t want part of you. I want all of you.” With her fingertip, she drew a circle around his heart.

  “And so you have me.” He took her arm, and they walked into the city, with the horses following. Seenan, resplendent in his Banner guard uniform, led the escort soldiers to the Bannriya garrison, where they would be given temporary quarters.

  Back inside the castle, Adan told Penda everything he had done in his long journey to Fellstaff, Lake Bakal, then downriver to Convera Castle, and finally back home. The squire Hom was happy to tend his master again, though still disappointed that the king hadn’t taken him along in the first place. Remembering the terrible frostwreth incursion at Lake Bakal, however, Adan shook his head. “You would not have wanted to see what I saw.”

  The boy brought a private meal for the king and queen in their suite, and nearly dropped the tray as Xar flew in and deftly snatched a silver spoon from beside a plate. The ska flew off, hissing and clicking. “You bring that back!” Hom yelled, not knowing whether to pursue or keep the rest of the meal intact.

  Xar proudly dropped the spoon in front of Penda, but she frowned at the reptile bird. “That is not how you please me, Xar.” Feeling Penda’s disappointment through the heart link, the ska drooped his head in forlorn apology.

  As they ate, it was her turn to tell Adan of the great tension across the counties as the Suderran people reacted to the news about the sandwreths. His vassal lords had all reported in, and armed local militias were scouting some of the more isolated towns, which had fallen suspiciously silent.

  “But Queen Voo sent no further word?” Adan asked. Recalling the disaster the frostwreths had caused, maybe he would have to agree to an alliance for Suderra’s very survival.

  Penda shook her head. “They vanished back into the desert, as if they were only myths after all.”

  In midafternoon, the two went up to the gazing deck to look out over Bannriya and the surrounding terrain of the kingdom. Accompanying them, Xar landed on one of the crenellations, bobbing his head.

  Penda took Adan’s hand as they looked out at the countless tile rooftops. “While you were gone, I came up here to watch for you every day, but this afternoon … I sense something wrong again.” Her dark eyes met his. Adan felt a chill, knowing not to discount his wife’s instincts. “Perhaps another harbinger.�
��

  Xar flapped his wings, turned his mothlike gaze back on Penda, and let out a strange sound unlike anything Adan had heard before. His wife shuddered and paled, and he caught her in his arms as she collapsed. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head as if trying to clear it. “Bright noise, deep shadow! Inside the circle, outside the circle…” The ska whistled again, and Penda put a hand to her head, breathing rapidly.

  Adan smelled an odd taint in the air, a hint of spoiled meat and sulfur. “Maybe the wreths are doing something.”

  With a piercing shriek, Xar took wing, pulling into the sky above the towers of Bannriya Castle. Penda let out a gasp, and her eyes rolled up so he could see the whites of her eyes, as if she could see through Xar’s eyes. She winced and bent over, clearly feeling a psychic blow through her heart link. Penda’s eyes squeezed shut and her breathing came fast and shallow. Though her eyes remained closed, she moaned, “This isn’t right, Starfall.”

  As he held her, Adan felt a tension in the air as if the world itself had shuddered. “Is it the baby?” he asked, cradling her. “Is something wrong?”

  “Not the baby,” she said, then shivered violently.

  Adan supported her, tried to move her to one of the stone benches, but she took his arm and held him still. “I need to see, Starfall! You need to see.” Strands of dark hair blew about her face. Her eyes remained closed. “There’s an anger, an uneasiness in the sky, the world.”

  Xar let out another strange cry. Penda opened her eyes and pointed urgently toward the east. “Look, over there! The sky is…”

  He turned, and the sight snatched the words from his throat. “I rode over those mountains with the escort party just days ago.”

  A monstrous gray blur dominated the eastern horizon, where the Dragonspine crossed the land. A background mutter of dismay came from people standing at windows, all staring to the east. Xar swooped back, landed on Penda’s shoulder, and buried his scaled snout in her hair.