Spine of the Dragon
Page 57
“I’ll want to hear the whole story, every bit of it,” Shadri said, loud enough for all to hear. “I can act as a legacier and write it down in great detail. We can send a full chronicle to all of your vassal lords as well as the konag in Convera. Every remembrance shrine will have a copy. They will know what really happened.”
“Ancestors’ blood, there is much to tell,” Koll said. “You’d better write it down quickly, because soon there’s going to be much more to the story.”
Shadri bowed, feeling her excitement build. “I’m at your disposal, Sire. I’ll write the chronicle, and then copy it, again and again, so the story will never be forgotten.” She thought of the stern, self-important Chief Legacier Vicolia from the great Convera remembrance shrine, who was unimpressed with the curiosity of a mere cleaning girl. Vicolia would certainly be surprised now.
“You will have all the paper and ink that you need, Legacier,” the king said. Hearing the title warmed her heart. “I will tell you my story, and then you can hear more from Elliel, Thon, the lords, and perhaps a soldier or two.”
“All of them, Sire—I have to talk to all of them. This is important. This is the legacy for everyone.”
Koll walked alongside his black horse. “It might also be our last legacy.” Curious people came out to watch the returning party of soldiers, and Shadri knew that by evening many versions of the account would spread throughout the taverns as each soldier embellished his own part of the tale.
Koll put his arm around the queen as he led them back toward the castle. “First, beloved, I have a long letter to write to Conndur. It’s time for the two brothers to go together to war again. Koll and Conn, like when we were younger. We have to summon the armies to Norterra and defend our lands against the frostwreths.” He lowered his voice. “Conn will know what to do. I only hope we can hold out here long enough for those reinforcements to come.”
101
DUSTY and tired, Adan and Penda headed back to Suderra, guided by Quo and a party of warriors. In the wake of the dragon hunt, the sandwreths were giddy with their victory.
Adan tried to convince himself the wreths were not overtly threatening, just … odd. Surprisingly solicitous, Queen Voo reiterated her desire for an alliance with the humans and agreed to meet with Konag Conndur, because he represented the entire Commonwealth. Once he got back to Bannriya, Adan would send messages and arrange a frank discussion between the konag of the three kingdoms and the queen of the sandwreths. He would also inform King Kollanan that there might be help for Norterra. Maybe they could strengthen themselves enough for the coming conflict.
As they rode out of the desert toward home, Penda kept her thoughts to herself, though Adan could tell she was troubled. Her ska—which had returned to them as soon as the dragon hunt was over, as if nothing had happened—rested on her shoulder. Xar crunched contentedly on a large beetle he had caught.
When they finally reached the forested boundaries of Suderra, Quo pulled his auga to a halt. “There is your kingdom, Adan Starfall.” He cocked an eyebrow. “I assume you know your way home from here?”
“Bannriya is half a day’s journey,” Penda said quickly, as if she were anxious for them to be on their own again. “We’ll be fine.” She drew a circle around her heart.
Done with a tedious duty, Quo turned his reptile mount around, as did the rest of the wreth escort. “We will contact you soon. Be ready for us.” He waited for an awkward moment, expecting something. Adan didn’t understand, and Quo added an impatient comment: “We did not offer to give you our augas. You can walk from here.”
Surprised, Adan said, “But my wife is pregnant.”
“Your wife is strong, my Starfall.” Penda dismounted. “We can walk.”
Seeing her expression, he did not argue. Adan, too, wanted to be away from the wreths. “I’ll enjoy the time alone with my wife.” Dismounting, he removed his pack and said farewell to Quo. “Thank you for the remarkable experience.”
Quo snatched the reins of Adan’s auga, while another warrior took Penda’s beast. The reptile mounts flicked their black forked tongues. Without looking back, the strange escort party rode away, leaving the king and queen alone in the hills.
Standing with Penda at the edge of the forest, he took her hand, and he suddenly realized how anxious she was. “Cra, they frighten me down to the marrow of my bones!”
Adan was also uneasy. “But I saw what the frostwreths did, too. If we are caught between the two forces, Queen Voo may be our most powerful protector.”
Leading the way through the hills on foot, Penda spotted a blooming blue poppy and smiled.
* * *
The royal couple arrived home to great fanfare. Adan and Penda told stories of the dragon hunt and showed off the scale and the tooth, trophies from the defeated monster. Hale Orr was there to greet them with a hearty laugh and many stories of his own from Convera to Ishara and back again. He had just returned from several days in the hills with other Utauks.
Young Hom attended them, hanging on every tale, and Hale pestered him to snap to his duties. “Bring food from the kitchens, boy! And have servants heat water—King Adan and my daughter sorely need baths! Have you not been trained in your duties?” The squire scuttled away, and Hale sat down.
Penda picked at her food, claiming not to feel well. “I’ve learned to trust my senses, Father. The sandwreths are so … alien.”
“We all trust your senses, dear heart.” Hale drew a circle with his finger.
Adan relished the meal. He’d eaten pack food for so long, plus whatever strange victuals the wreths had offered. “I’ll tell you this, Father Orr—if that dragon had attacked Bannriya, we could not have fought it. The sandwreths wielded impressive magic. They may be strong enough to drive back the frostwreths if they do march down to Suderra. We should consider them seriously.”
“That was exactly what Voo meant to show us,” Penda said. “A promise but also a threat. She wanted to convince you that we need her for the coming war.”
Adan took another sip of wine. “We do have to consider the possibility. These are not normal times.”
A courier burst in, a young Utauk woman who had ridden hard all the way from Convera. Her face was encrusted with dust, and she looked about to drop, as if she hadn’t eaten in days. Banner guards rushed her into the dining hall.
“Adan Starfall…” the courier gasped. “I was told by the konag himself to present this to you—to place it directly in your hands.” She fumbled with a leather satchel at her hip, pulled out a folded letter sealed with wax, a mark that showed a stylized “M.”
When Adan accepted the document, the courier collapsed into a chair without asking leave. Penda offered the woman her own meal, and she ate ravenously.
Adan recognized his brother’s mark on the wax seal, but also saw a significant change. “What is this? Konag … Mandan?” He tore open the letter.
When he read the account of what had happened on Fulcor Island, each word felt like a physical blow to his heart. He could only stare for a long moment, finally whispering, “My father is dead, murdered by the Isharans.”
Penda and Hale crowded close to read the grisly description of how Conndur had been assassinated by the Isharans, how Mandan and Utho had fought their way out of the garrison and barely escaped back to Osterra.
Hale’s expression turned gray. “I can’t believe Empra Iluris would do this! I spoke with her myself. This is not what she wanted!”
“My father is dead,” Adan said again, as if he could negate the words by repeating them. “They killed him, and now Mandan is konag.” With trembling hands and blurred vision, he read the letter again. “My brother rules the Commonwealth. He demands that all the armies of the three kingdoms join the fight against Ishara. He orders me to arm our soldiers and march them to Convera without delay so he can launch a massive attack against the new world. He … he calls it a vengewar.”
After what he had just witnessed out in the desert—the sandwre
ths and the dragon, including Queen Voo’s call to war against her own mortal enemies—Adan had not expected this. “But we can’t … it’s not possible.”
None of this could be possible. He felt dizzy.
“I was there when the warships arrived back at the Confluence, Sire,” the courier said. “It’s true. I … saw the body myself. Horrible!”
Adan’s heart cried out in silent grief for all the times he and his father had watched falling stars in the sky. Now the world was falling apart from within.
* * *
Adan went alone to the gazing deck, though it was only late afternoon. It would be a long time before full dark, when he could look at the constellations, but for now he just wanted to be here, to gaze across his city, the sandstone walls, the hills all around.
From here, not long ago he had watched the great dust storm roll in from the desert. A harbinger, Penda had called it, not realizing the incredible insight she had shown. Right now, the hills looked blurred and washed out—the haze of another storm coming? When he rubbed his eyes, he realized that he was quietly weeping. Tears blurred his vision, not another storm.
Mandan’s letter had described in far too much detail how Conndur had been cut into pieces like a bull in a butcher’s yard. My father is dead.
With silent grace, Penda came up to him, and the warmth of her presence enveloped him like a blanket. She had left Xar inside on his perch. Now she slipped her arms around his chest from behind and held him close without speaking. He squeezed her arms, feeling the swell of her abdomen as she pressed against his back.
A sharp pang sliced through Adan’s heart. “My father will never meet his grandchild. He’ll never unify the Commonwealth and the Isharans so we can fight the wreths together. What if Queen Voo is the only ally we have left?” His voice cracked as he spoke the words. He tried to sound like a firm leader, the king of Suderra. Politics was important. The future was at hand. Mandan had declared war—a war that should have been unnecessary. But now, how could Adan argue?
My father is dead. They cut out his eyes, his heart …
“No matter what happens in the world, we will keep your father’s legacy,” Penda said.
Looking up, he saw a flash of blue in the sky, sapphire scales and blue feathers as a ska winged its way toward the castle. Penda saw it, too, and pointed. “Look, it’s all alone, but I don’t think it’s a wild ska.” She let out a shrill whistle. She shivered as if an odd sensation had run through her, and her expression became troubled. “This is something we should worry about.”
The blue ska circled, sensed Penda calling it, then swooped down. As if recognizing her, it landed on her shoulder, full of energy. Penda caught the small reptile bird, stroked its feathers, saw the mothertear collar around its thin neck. “It’s a young one.…” She frowned. “The Utauks said my sister Glik caught a young ska, a blue one just like this.”
The reptile bird bobbed its head, buzzed and clicked, turned faceted eyes toward Penda’s face. “Glik? Do you recognize the name?”
The ska ruffled its blue feathers.
“Cra, this isn’t right.”
“Nothing in the universe is right,” Adan said. “Not anymore.”
Penda unfastened the collar so she could look at the sparkling diamond. “Watch with me, Starfall. Let us see where this ska has been.” With her thumb, she unlocked the images. When the wavering shapes and sights poured into the air, they saw the young, dusty girl in ragged clothes. “That’s Glik!”
Adan leaned closer to watch. The images showed the girl trudging through the canyons while the ska circled above. “Why was she out in the desert? Was she near us?”
Penda nodded. “The kitchen staff said Glik stopped here for food, asking about us. She seemed interested in the dragon hunt.”
“It would be foolish to wander alone in the Furnace,” Adan said.
“Glik is often foolish,” Penda said.
In the images, the ska ranged farther and reached a sprawling encampment of fences, mud homes, sandwreth guards … and thousands of human prisoners. They were skeletal, barely fed, caked with dust as they labored under their masters. Sandwreths tormented them, whipped them.
Penda’s hand wavered as she held the collar. The images from the diamond shook in the air as if blown by a strong breeze. The image showed Ari flying higher, looking down at Glik, who ran in terror. Sandwreth guards chased the girl and others came from the other side of the canyon to trap her. They rode augas, raised threatening obsidian spears.
“They look like the warriors with us on the dragon hunt,” Adan said.
In the mothertear image, the wreths captured Glik, even though the girl fought and scratched and kicked. The panicked ska flew away, winging across the sky and over the desert until she finally came to Bannriya.
“The sandwreths enslaved all those humans,” Adan said, unable to believe it. “The queen doesn’t want an alliance.” He remembered the stories the Utauks had told about empty villages, missing people, lost caravans. “Everything Queen Voo told us was a lie.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Creating a new world, new characters, new magic, new history takes a lot of work, and I can’t do it alone. Some of the people who helped me bring the Wake the Dragon series alive include: my wife and toughest critic and editor, Rebecca Moesta; my first reader, Diane Jones; my sore-armed typist, Karen Haag; my Tor Books editor, Beth Meacham; and my agent, John Silbersack.
I would also like to give special thanks to Marie Whittaker, Josh Bennett, Kitty Krell for her help on the costuming; Bryan G. McWhirter for the wonderful maps; and my thesis advisor, Tony D’Souza, at Lindenwood University.
And finally, my sneak preview gang of readers: David Von Allmen, Eric K. Edstrom, Martin E. Greening, MaryJane Stricklin, Kristin Jackson, Andrew Bulthaupt, Joseph Bigane III, Daniel Clark, Jeff Evans, Daniel Davis, Richard Pulfer, Ray Tayek, John Everett, and Bradley J. Birzer.
BY KEVIN J. ANDERSON FROM TOM DOHERTY ASSOCIATES
The Dark Between the Stars
Blood of the Cosmos
Eternity’s Mind
Nebula Awards Showcase 2011
WITH A.E. VAN VOGT
Slan Hunter
WITH DOUG BEASON
Kill Zone
Ignition
Ill Wind
WITH BRIAN HERBERT
The Road to Dune
Dune: The Butlerian Jihad
Dune: The Machine Crusade
Dune: The Battle of Corrin
Hunters of Dune
Sandworms of Dune
Paul of Dune
The Winds of Dune
Sisterhood of Dune
Mentats of Dune
Navigators of Dune
Hellhole
Hellhole Awakening
Hellhole Inferno
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
KEVIN J. ANDERSON is the #1 international bestselling author of more than 140 books, 56 of which have appeared on national or international bestseller lists. His novels have 23 million copies in print in thirty languages. He has won or been nominated for the Nebula Award, Hugo Award, Bram Stoker Award, and many others.
Visit him online at www.wordfire.com, or sign up for email updates here.
Twitter: @TheKJA
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Maps
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
<
br /> Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86