Spine of the Dragon

by Kevin J. Anderson

  Queen Tafira also rose to the occasion. She brought out her throwing knives and trained others, including the kitchen staff. “But we aren’t soldiers, my lady,” complained one of the baker women whose particular skill was in making pies.

  “If wreths overrun the castle to rape and kill us all, wouldn’t you like to cut a few throats before you go?” Tafira asked. The pie woman chewed on that thought, then applied herself to the training with a grim determination.

  Explaining to Koll, the queen said, “We can only justify a pampered life during quiet times. These are no longer quiet times, and I won’t be a quiet companion.”

  “No, beloved, you are not complacent or quiet. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  One morning, a scout rode to Fellstaff Castle with a troubling report of three unusual travelers making their way to the city. “One of them is a female Brava traveling with a teenaged girl, and…” He scratched his head. “And a stranger.”

  “What kind of stranger?” Koll asked.

  “I think … Sire—I think it’s a wreth.”

  Koll had the scout turn around. “Take me there. I’ll saddle up Storm so we can go meet them on the road.” He turned to Tafira. “If someone captured a wreth, then I am determined to gain as much information as possible.”

  * * *

  Several miles down the road, they came upon the three travelers, who were by now escorted by more wary scouts. A plain teenaged girl with limp brown hair hiked along carrying a pack half as large as she was. The Brava woman was tall and attractive, dressed in loose traveling clothes, rather than the traditional black leathers and finemail of a Brava. Her deep red hair was gathered behind her shoulders in a single band. A strange tattoo marked her face.

  The third companion drew all of Koll’s focus, though. He was lean and handsome, but alien looking. His eyes were long and narrow, his chin pointed, his teeth unnaturally even. His mane of black hair was wild like a thunderstorm. He wore silvery leggings, chest armor with prominent shoulder pads, and a tattoo on his face similar to the Brava woman’s. The stranger had haunting similarities to the frostwreth warriors Koll had faced at Lake Bakal, yet there was something different about him, too.

  Reining up, Koll sat high on his warhorse. “You look like a wreth.”

  “I believe I am,” the man said with no hint of sarcasm. “And you look like a king. I am honored to meet you.”

  Koll growled. “I don’t know if there’s any honor in meeting a wreth. Your people destroyed an entire town and killed the people who lived there, including my daughter and her family.”

  The wreth’s deep blue eyes met him squarely. “For that, I am sincerely sorry, but I do not belong with them. My name is Thon.”

  Disturbed, Koll turned toward the woman. “What is your name, Brava?”

  “I’m Elliel.” Her expression was guarded, and her green eyes showed an edge of pain.

  “She was accused of a terrible crime and her memories were erased,” the plump girl said, adjusting her pack. “But she remembers everything now. She was betrayed. She didn’t really commit those crimes.”

  “Doesn’t every criminal say the same?” Koll asked.

  “Do you expect a Brava to lie?” Elliel asked.

  He considered. “In my experience, Bravas are honorable. My own was the most loyal man I’ve ever met.” He lowered his voice. “We think the frostwreths captured or killed him.” He turned Storm around. “Come with me back to Fellstaff. I want Queen Tafira to hear your tales as well. She often has more insights than I do.”

  * * *

  Inside the castle, Tafira joined them in the banquet hall for a detailed conversation. Pokle brought in wood for the fireplace and helped carry food trays. He flinched from the wreth man, fearful, but seemed even more nervous around the talkative scholar girl, who was about his age. Shadri ate with great enthusiasm, asking Pokle questions about the food he served, how it was prepared, what spices were used. The gawky young man promised to take her to the kitchens to show her everything.

  As if strengthening her resolve, Elliel formally addressed the king and queen. “When I got my memories back, I became a Brava again.” She held up her ramer, then turned her wrist to show the half-healed scabs there. “Now I can call the fire and wield my flame, just as I did before. I will offer my skills here, if you can use them, Sire. I am not bonded.”

  Shadri said quickly, “You would do well to have her in your service, King Kollanan.”

  Koll nodded slowly. “I know the value of a Brava, but your service will not be a simple task, and you’ll need to do more than just frighten off the occasional bandit. I fear the frostwreths intend to run roughshod over our lands.” He glanced accusingly at the stranger. Anger and questions had built up inside him for too long. “What do you wreths want from us? Why did you come back?”

  Thon looked deeply troubled. “I wish I could tell you, but I have no memory of wreths since the beginning of their great war long ago. I know only that I am awake now, the dragon is stirring, and fire is bursting out of the mountains. It is only part of many great upheavals in the end days of the world.”

  “You don’t inspire me with confidence, wreth man,” Koll muttered.

  Thon insisted that he was neither part of Queen Onn’s army to the north nor Queen Voo’s army in the deserts beyond Suderra. He claimed never to have heard of either of them.

  Elliel spoke up on his behalf. “Thon does want to help, Sire. He’s no part of this new war, and he is not allied with either faction of the wreths.”

  “How can you be sure of this?” Tafira asked.

  “Because I believe him. And I’m a Brava, for what it’s worth.”

  The queen wasn’t convinced by the argument. “A Brava, perhaps, but you said you were disgraced, your legacy wiped. And now you say you never committed such a crime?”

  “No, I did not.”

  Koll said, “You had better tell us the entire story.” In harsh detail, Elliel explained about Lord Cade and the rape, the poisonously jealous Lady Almeda, the threat of exposure and how Utho had made her a scapegoat to cover it. She said in disgust, “It was politics. And now I am adrift. I can offer you my services and do my best to defend your kingdom in these troubled times.”

  Koll’s expression darkened. “Cade’s county is far away, but my brother should know what his vassal lord is doing.” After what he had already told Conndur, though, and how he had been rebuffed, he doubted the konag would welcome more disruptive news. “I’ll deal with the politics in its own time.”

  Elliel seemed to be wrestling her past into submission. “And what about Utho? The konag’s own Brava is not to be trusted. Doesn’t he need to know that?” Her voice caught. “What Utho did to me—”

  Koll’s expression was as hard as an iron mask. “Utho is no friend of mine either. He was one of the strongest voices against Konag Conndur providing help to Norterra against the wreths.” He felt the heat in his cheeks. “I will write my brother. He needs to know about Utho and about Lord Cade. But right now, we are on our own here. We are facing the possible destruction of Norterra, maybe a war that will tear the world apart.”

  He lowered his voice, looked appraisingly at Elliel. “Yet kings do depend on their Bravas. Since Lasis is gone and possibly dead, I do need a Brava here with me. Whatever your past, I know your abilities. When a man buys an old sword, he only worries about the sturdiness of the blade, the sharpness of the edge and point. He doesn’t care how many other people the sword has killed in the past.” He studied Elliel in silence for a long moment. “If you swear your service to me, you’ll be a weapon in my hand.”

  “I will accept a bond to you—but only if you swear to be honorable to me.” Her answer shocked Koll, and Tafira gasped, but Elliel crossed her arms. “I will accept nothing less than such an oath from you, to me.”

  After the moment of tension, Koll chuckled. “After you told me your story, I see that as a perfectly reasonable request.” He saw a haunted hurt deep behin
d her eyes. “I have no qualms whatsoever in swearing to uphold my honor to you—or to anyone else in Norterra.”

  Elliel nodded and visibly relaxed. “Then I accept.”

  With greater suspicion, though, Koll turned to Thon. The dark-haired wreth was an enigma and certainly dangerous. “You, however … how can I accept the cooperation of a wreth, when I know what the wreths did at Lake Bakal? Jhaqi and Gannon, poor Tomko and Birch, all of them frozen to death on a whim and a winterspell!” His voice rose as his temper did.

  Thon said seriously, “I do not know my part in what is to come, but I believe I can help in ways that no one else in your kingdom could imagine. Let me use my wreth magic in your service.”

  Queen Tafira studied the wreth man intently, then turned to her husband. “When you brought me back to the Commonwealth, Husband, your people were shocked, suspicious. They saw me as an Isharan, an enemy, not to be trusted. Even so, you took me as your wife, you believed in me. You loved me, and I’ve never given you reason to regret it.”

  Tears stung his eyes. “No, beloved, I never regretted it for a moment.”

  “If you’d listened to the fears and suspicions of others, you might have let the villagers sacrifice me in Sarcen. You might have abandoned me back there and taken a fine Norterran bride instead.”

  “But I didn’t. I loved you.”

  “This wreth man deserves a chance as well, if he says he can help us. Are you so confident in your ability to fight the enemy alone?”

  Kollanan couldn’t disagree with her. “Ancestors’ blood, we’ll see what this wreth can do.” With that, he opened the shutters in his mind just a crack and let himself consider possibilities.

  76

  WHEN the ships arrived at Fulcor Island, Konag Conndur disembarked onto the sturdy pier in the harbor cove. He had never personally visited the isolated garrison, although Fulcor had been an important strategic asset for many years. Knowing he was initiating a portentous event, he felt the weight of his legacy, yet he also felt hopeful.

  Seabirds swooped overhead, scolding the visitors. Sharp breezes whipped into the cove and up the sheer cliffs. Farther out to sea, waves hissed and boomed over the reefs.

  Conndur stood on the dock as Watchman Osler came to greet the party in his military uniform and a rust-colored old cape that might once have been bright red. The sword at his side looked ornamental, but could well be used for battle. “Our brave garrison soldiers are pleased you’d come on such an important mission, Sire.” Osler’s expression became troubled. “Though we wonder why you’d invite Isharans here…”

  Conn clasped the man’s extended hand. “Because the future of the human race may depend on stopping these hostilities and allying against an even greater enemy. Therefore, I must try.”

  Osler gave a dubious bow. “As you command, Sire.”

  Conndur looked up the winding staircase mounted on the outer cliffs, then even higher to see more than a hundred soldiers peering down from the high walls of the fortress above. The prince and Utho followed him off the ship, and more of the party disembarked. Half of the crew would be stationed inside the garrison as the konag’s personal retinue, while the others would remain aboard the ship, always ready.

  Watchman Osler led them up the cliffside steps until they reached the cleft in the rock, which led them to the interior of the fortress. Osler spoke over his shoulder as they followed. “The garrison is on high alert, Sire. We spent days working on the main hall, the courtyard, the fortifications. We doubled up the men in the barracks to clear rooms in two separate wings of the main hall. Your party will stay in one wing, and the … others will have quarters in the second wing. We have to keep you separate from the Isharans, for safety.”

  Conn read grim tension on the old veteran’s face. “Thank you, Watchman. There may be great changes ahead.” He didn’t reveal the possibility that they might even relinquish the island garrison if the Isharans agreed to fight beside them against the wreths. Osler and these dedicated soldiers wouldn’t approve of that, not at all. He didn’t much like it himself either, but he knew how necessary this was. Having witnessed the quakes and fires in the Dragonspine, having heard the pleas from Adan and Kollanan, he had to do what was right.

  As they passed through the narrow cleft in the cliffs and up to the open air above, Conndur regarded the soldiers lined up in ranks in the courtyard. He touched his chest to acknowledge them, which sparked loud applause, cheers for the konag.

  Then Watchman Osler called out. “And also show a special welcome to Utho of the Reef, one of the greatest heroes of Fulcor Island.”

  The Brava revealed neither pride nor embarrassment, but accepted the wave of cheers that rolled over him. Prince Mandan looked at him with deep admiration.

  More Commonwealth troops came up the stairs from the dock, carrying supplies and filing into the open courtyard. Conndur watched the activity, satisfied. “The empra arrives in three days. Make sure she feels welcome.”

  * * *

  After the traveling chests, diplomatic supplies, and ceremonial weapons were unloaded and the Commonwealth retinue had chosen quarters in the main wing, Utho found Mandan in his stone-walled quarters down the hall from the konag’s larger chamber. The prince’s room had a narrow, open window through which breezes whistled, and Utho knew how cold it would be at night. Fortunately, he saw blankets placed on Mandan’s traveling chest, and a fireplace in the corner with a stack of wood. He doubted the prince would realize the sacrifice that private fire entailed to the other soldiers, with wood so scarce on the island.

  Mandan had changed into a silk tunic, fine trousers, and brown leather boots, as if he were going to a formal ball. He was already bored. “Why did we have to come three days early? I wish I had brought my paints.”

  Utho said in a firm, paternal tone, “You are here at Fulcor Island for a very important meeting. Learn from it. You will see our enemies face-to-face, so plan to study their mannerisms, their habits, their weaknesses—and then remember everything. This is an opportunity you won’t have again.”

  “Why would I want it?” Mandan asked.

  “Answer that for yourself, and if you’re a wise leader, you will find an acceptable reason. Learn everything, observe everything.” He took the prince outside the main hall and up to the top of the fortress wall that encircled the crown of the island. “From up here you can watch the ocean in all directions.”

  Mandan peered into the distance. “So we’re able to see the enemy coming?”

  “You always want to see them coming. Otherwise they may attack before you know it.”

  They followed the walkway on top of the wall, gazing back toward the Osterran coast. “Isharans have captured Fulcor Island many times throughout history, and each time our brave fighters seized it back.” Tendons stood out on Utho’s neck as he struggled with his anger. “For decades, we have held this garrison at great cost in blood, and now the konag intends to hand it back, just to foster an unnecessary alliance. He knows how many Osterran lives they’ve already taken.”

  Mandan pointed westward, back toward home. “Look, you can still see some smoke in the sky from Mount Vada all the way out here.” His brow furrowed. “What is really happening, Utho? What if my father’s right? What if Ossus is awakening, and the wreths want to destroy the world? Shouldn’t we all try to fight together? Maybe it is the only way.”

  Utho frowned. “There are things we can imagine, my prince, and there are things we know. We know that the Isharans are monsters. Do we ignore everything we know because an ancient story might come true?”

  Uncomfortable, the young man went to the edge of the wall and stared down to where the reefs extended like protective claws around the island. He asked in a quiet, awed voice, “Is that where it happened? Where you walked out to sea at low tide, so you could launch fire arrows at the Isharan ships?”

  Utho gestured down and to the left. “Over there. When the tide is out, the reef is exposed and a nimble man can jump from plac
e to place, but it has to be timed perfectly.”

  Mandan’s eyes shone with admiration, drew a deep breath, and spoke in a loud, confident voice that sounded almost like a leader’s. “Utho of the Reef has returned to Fulcor Island. Let the Isharans beware.”

  77

  ADAN and Penda spent the next days preparing for their uncertain trip into the desert with the wreths. Hom bustled about gathering their necessary items, sick with worry.

  Adan’s council was in an uproar over the idea that their king and queen would participate in a dangerous dragon hunt. The Banner guards demanded to go along as an armed escort, and although he couldn’t deny the knot in his stomach, Adan tried to sound convincing. “We have to accept Queen Voo’s guarantees of safety. The sandwreths are a great and terrible force, and we will show that we trust them.”

  Penda raised her eyebrows. “Do we trust them?”

  Adan considered, and chose a pragmatic reply. “I think we’ll be safe. If the sandwreths are trying to woo us into an alliance, it would be bad form for them to let us be killed, wouldn’t it?”

  As she packed for hard travel, choosing sturdy Utauk garments rather than frilly regal ones, Penda gave him a quirk of a smile. “Cra, it is interesting to be your wife, Starfall.” She got out her leather pants, sturdy boots, and crimson and black silks. Seamstresses loosened them to accommodate her growing pregnancy.

  After five days, Quo and the sandwreth escort arrived just after noon—golden-skinned warriors with hair the color of honey and bone, intertwined with bangles of beaten metal. Apart from one dour mage, the wreths carried short obsidian-tipped spears with slender spiraling shafts, and they rode sturdy augas. Two of the creatures had empty saddles, ready for their guests.