When Dragons Die- The Complete Trilogy Box Set

by K. Scott Lewis

  Arda brushed back a long strand of hair from her eyes, tucking it behind her right horn. “I’m surprised I told you that,” Arda remarked. “There’s something about you that makes me feel safe confiding in you—against my better judgment.”

  “I will keep your secrets,” Anuit assured her.

  “Anyway, I know Kaldorites are supposed to be indomitable. Sometimes we fall. Sometimes we break.”

  “What happened?”

  “I… I can’t speak of it. But every night since, I’ve stayed at infested inns. I’ve grown reckless. I’ve listened to them and almost let them take me.”

  “Not many people understand enough to fear themselves or where their minds will take them,” Anuit remarked. “Most people believe they are in control of their own thoughts, and that they will never change unless they want to.”

  The two women locked eyes in that moment, and Anuit saw the connection of understanding.

  “Yes,” Arda said. “That’s why we have a code. But I am changing. I am tired, and the code did not save me from my pride.”

  The sky lightened and the first crescent of the sun cleaved the horizon. The long dawn shadows of the short rocks and ridges gave a fluid depth and texture to the ground that was otherwise absent during the day. It created a breathtaking backdrop of black, brown, and lightening tan against a purple and orange sky.

  “I don’t want to surrender to fear,” Anuit said.

  “Neither do I.”

  “Then let’s watch out for each other,” the sorceress offered.

  Arda suddenly smiled and laughed. The purity of her voice added to the clarity of dawn’s light. She reached forward and took both of Anuit’s hands. She held them up and briefly squeezed them.

  “You mean like friends do,” she said. “Yes, I think I’d like that.” She released Anuit’s hands and the two of them stood side by side.

  “Do you love him?” Anuit suddenly asked.

  “What?”

  “The bard.”

  “Oh!” Arda exclaimed. “No, no. Not like you mean. We’ve known each other for a long time. We’ve been through a lot together. He’s a friend.”

  Anuit considered her words in silence and looked away to the dawn. They watched together as the sun spilled light over the world and the sky brightened to blue.

  9 - The Paladin’s Judgment

  It was midmorning on the fifteenth day when the three companions approached the city of Astiana. There had been no repeat intimacy between Arda and Danry since that first night. They detoured around Rille, but otherwise stayed at inns along the way. It had been as Arda described. Each town was infested, yet the three of them were left alone. She insisted on them sharing a single room with three beds, which she consecrated as their “home.”

  Astiana spread over a gradual slope leading to the sea, built up on either side of the River Astia. The seaside was covered with piers and docks where pre-Imperial sailing vessels, a style never completely abandoned during the God-King’s reign, were berthed. A little to the north they could see the walls and planks of a shipyard.

  The houses were short and flat, typically three stories or less, and built in squares around open courtyards. The terra-cotta tile roofs stood in sharp orange relief against white stucco walls encrusted by creeping vines whose leaves had fallen for the year.

  The center of the city boasted a castle on its hilltop that oversaw the surrounding land. At the base of the hill was an old city wall, but Astiana had grown past that centuries ago. At the present, it had no outer barrier delineating the city’s borders; instead, an urban sprawl gradually trickled out into farmland.

  The sun shone warm but not hot, and the thick humidity in the air clung at their skin. Though uncomfortable, Arda still wore her coat and hat over her armor, concealing the signs that would otherwise boldly announce the presence of a Kaldorite. Beads of sweat covered her brow and she felt the heat of her body hover and cling to the air around her.

  “It’s November,” Danry remarked. “I thought it was supposed to be cooler by now.” He wiped condensation from his brow with the back of his hand, and then flung the droplets to the ground. The underarms of his shirt were dark with sweat.

  Anuit seemed unfazed by the wet heat. Her dark skin showed not even a sign of glistening, and her gown had no moist spots. Whatever magic she had woven into the fabric kept her cool and dry in the sun, just as it had kept her warm in the chill wind.

  The three of them walked side by side. Arda had taken all their packs and fastened them to Dart’s saddle, and the warhorse ambled behind her, silent and loyal. They followed the road down the sloped plain and walked into the city.

  When Arda had been a young girl, Attaris, the dwarven runewarden of Modhrin, found her and took her to the city. He brought her to Tulley, who was old even then. Tulley was the head of the secret Kaldorite chapter in Astiana, and he had personally trained the young darkling woman. She had returned to Astiana from time to time during her travels, but it had been years since the last time she had visited her mentor.

  Tulley must have been truly old by now. It was sad he could not retire in his twilight years, instead of leading the resistance in Astiana. She had traded messages with him between visits, at first sharing her frustrations in her quest for the lost wizard and hopes that he might still be alive, and then trading information on the spread of the contagion. His letters tried to dissuade her from her continuing quest to find Kaldor. He reminded her again that the wizard hadn’t made contact for decades, maybe longer. Nevertheless, she had searched.

  No one knew where the ancient tower of Taer Iriliandrel lay, and the histories conflicted with each other regarding its location. Some had said Roen, others Erindil or Tavenport. Some even said that the tower moved, appearing at different times in history where it was needed. She suspected the latter was true, since she had visited each location at some point in the last nine years and seen that no such tower existed. In the end, she had started to worry that maybe Kaldor was just a myth after all, the central figure of a symbolic foundation story that the chapter house commanders kept alive to unite the Order through the ages.

  But now. But now! Kaldor lives!

  Some stared curiously at the companions as they passed, but they were ignored for the most part. People’s faces held a gloomy air, and some wore open bite marks on their necks while others appeared untouched. Arda remembered how the vampire girl had healed her mother through her blood.

  She led her companions to a small alley and knocked an almost indiscernible pattern on the door of a residence. When no one answered, she focused her strength and slammed her palm flat against the lock. The metal broke and the door gave way.

  She opened it and stepped inside, using her natural darkvision to see. The front room was empty, and from the looks of things, the rest of the apartment had been uninhabited for some time. She walked over to a small secretary desk on the back wall that she remembered from the years she had spent there as a younger woman. It was clean and polished, well kept despite its age. She reached her hand under it and knocked until she found the hollow point. Finding the seams, she pressed up and back, sliding away the concealed panel.

  “There’s a note,” she said, retrieving a sealed envelope from the compartment. She broke the wax seal with her fingers and flicked it open, removing and unfolding the parchment inside. It was written in Kaldorite code.

  * * *

  Anuit watched the paladin’s eyes narrow as she read the message.

  “He’s had to move,” Arda said. “It’s not safe here any more. The resistance is all but undone.”

  “How can this be?” Danry asked. “I spoke with him here only a few weeks ago!”

  “There’s more,” she continued. “This location is compromised, but there is another safe house we can go to. I know the one. We can get there quickly through the catacombs.”

  “Won’t there be vampires in the catacombs?” Anuit asked. “Isn’t the safety of daylight better?”

&
nbsp; “No, they will be asleep. Vampires must go far beneath the earth before they escape the effects of daylight altogether.”

  “And then what?” Danry asked.

  “He says, ‘Nothing is as it seems.’ I’m to meet him alone.”

  “I don’t like it,” Anuit frowned. “Why would he want to meet you alone?”

  “The Order can be secretive,” she answered. “If he has gone underground, he will not wish to reveal himself to anyone but another Kaldorite. He is my superior, at any rate, and I will obey his orders.”

  “I still don’t like it. Not one bit,” Anuit restated, crossing her arms over her chest. Arda’s decisive tone annoyed her.

  Danry shared a worried look with her but he shrugged. “Tulley’s never been wrong before,” he said.

  “Follow me,” Arda told them, and walked deeper into the house. Anuit could see just fine, but Danry lit his glow-crystal as they went through the dark halls.

  At the back of the house in one of the small bedrooms was another hidden passage. Arda lifted a loose flagstone in the floor, revealing a ladder that went down into inky darkness. “Close the stone behind you,” she instructed, and then descended into the tunnels.

  Anuit followed, and then Danry. Arda led them through narrow, labyrinthine passages on uneven dirt floors. It was difficult to tell how far they had walked, but a little less than an hour later, Arda led them up another ladder and into a small, enclosed room with no windows. In front of the ladder was a cast-iron door.

  Arda tried it, but it was locked. Again, she gave the slight knock with an almost imperceptible pattern.

  After a few moments of silence, a responding knock with a different pattern sounded. Arda nodded and seemed to relax. “The one inside is a friend,” she explained.

  The door opened, and a young man stood on the other side. He studied them for a moment and then said, “What are your names?”

  “Arda, Danry, and Anuit,” the paladin answered. “We’re here to see Tulley.”

  “I recognize two of you from my instructions, but I don’t know her,” he pointed to Anuit.

  “She’s with me,” Arda said. “Stand aside.”

  He frowned, and then complied. “Very well.”

  They entered a larger chamber with gray stone walls and a worn red carpet on the floor. This one too had no windows.

  “I’ve been waiting for you,” the young man—almost a boy—explained. “I’m known to live here. I can procure food and supplies without raising suspicion.”

  “Even the day is not safe,” Arda commented.

  Danry nodded. “See, it is as I told you.”

  Anuit felt useless. She was wondering again why she had even come along.

  “What is your name?” Arda asked.

  “Bestan,” he answered. “It will be dusk soon. I will go purchase food for dinner and breakfast, and I will send word to the commander that you have arrived. You should meet him at the appointed place and time.”

  Arda agreed, and the squire left the home.

  “I’m not waiting for him to get back,” Arda said. “I’m going to meet Tulley. Hopefully I’ll return with him shortly.”

  “Well, we’re not going anywhere,” Anuit remarked. It was hard to keep the irritation from her voice.

  Arda didn’t seem to notice. She left quickly, following the squire back into the tunnels.

  Anuit thought for a moment, and then summoned Belham. “Follow her,” she instructed the imp. “If there’s any sign of trouble, let me know.”

  Danry’s brow furrowed in concern. “Are you sure that’s wise?” he asked. “Sending a demon to spy on the Kaldorites?”

  “It is both wise and necessary,” Anuit said. “Something is very wrong here.”

  * * *

  Arda left her friends behind and made her way through the tunnels and then out onto the city streets. It was still over an hour before sunset. The instructions in the letter concerned her, but she knew why Tulley could only meet her alone. He was somewhere in the castle, home of Count Markus. Presumably, the count was turned now, if he were not dead. She guessed the first, since Tulley was there. Tulley must have infiltrated his staff. He asked to meet Arda in a place that would be difficult for anyone else to reach, an upper apartment in the north tower that was marked by red curtains hanging from the window. It should not be difficult for her.

  The castle gates were open, and she meandered into the inner courtyard. Ducking behind one of the interior buildings and out of sight, she scaled the wall, finding handholds and footholds in the masonry. The darkling claws on her fingers only helped.

  She climbed, jumping from rooftop to rooftop on the ceilings of lower structures until she reached the north tower. She felt confident she could scale the castle unnoticed. Even though there was still light in the sky, her experience told her that most people did not take the time to look up. She climbed the last wall, finding the window with red curtains draped on the outside as specified in the note.

  She stepped into a comfortably furnished apartment containing tables and green and white upholstered chairs. The inner wall held a cold hearth with a great mantle carved of polished and stained oak. It must have taken the craftsmen years to work the fine details of horses and dragons interlocking over carved spiraling columns. Unlit candles were mounted on brass wall sconces.

  Arda stood with her back to the wall beside the window and waited. The minutes passed, and her commander did not show. By the time the sun set, she had already deduced why.

  The door opened shortly after nightfall. The room was dark, but she could see Tulley clearly as he entered and closed the door behind him. She knew he could see her, too.

  “You’re one of them now,” she stated dryly.

  He smiled. He did not seem quite as old as when she last saw him, as if some new life had filled and smoothed his skin, yet his age still shown around his eyes and cheeks. “As I put in the message, nothing here is as it seems.” He gestured to the two seats in front of the hearth. “Will you sit with me?”

  She tensed, and her mind went to her sword.

  “I assure you, I have no desire to fight you,” he said.

  “It was you then,” she said. “You granted me safe passage, somehow. You told the vampires in the towns not to interfere with my return.”

  “Not quite so straightforward as that, but yes,” he admitted. “I intervened with Count Markus on your behalf.”

  “Why?”

  “I want to talk to you. I want you to hear me out.”

  “So the message was a lie then?”

  “Sit,” he gestured again. “Arda, you know me. Come look into my face, feel my hands. You know it is me.”

  She took two steps forward and then hesitated. She heard the familiar timbre of his voice, and his eyes seemed earnest enough. It was Tulley, of that she had no doubt.

  But that’s not the question, is it? It doesn’t matter that it’s him.

  “Just hear me out. If you don’t like what I have to offer, then you and your friends are free to leave.”

  She inclined her head and accepted his invitation, sitting with a straight back on one of the chairs.

  Tulley waved his hand absently, and the hearth lit with orange flame along with the wall-mounted candle sconces, which added their individual flames to the light. He moved to the other chair with the bold deliberateness of youth in every step. The slight stoop of age was gone, and no movement betrayed a hint of knee or back pain. His shoulders were broad, and his head was held straight and confident. Even though Arda had seen him in the darkness, the light from the fire brought out the aura of youth and strength. She caught her breath as she saw him in a way she never had before.

  He sat across from her, feet planted on the ground, and then reclined a bit, leaning straight back into the center of the chair. He was comfortable with who he was, listing neither to the left nor the right. He seemed firm, deliberate, and in command of his surroundings enough to relax into the chair’s back.

/>   “It is as I said,” he repeated. “Nothing is as it seems.”

  Arda’s black eyes glittered in the firelight. “What does that mean?”

  “We were wrong,” he answered. “Very, very wrong.”

  “We were wrong to fight vampires?”

  “No,” he stated. “At least, not in the beginning. The contagion caused evil. What the hunger made people do was evil. But the people who are afflicted with it are not. They were just unprepared for it.”

  “Did you choose this?” she asked.

  “I did.”

  She saw the truth in his eyes. “Why?”

  “Because Count Markus came to me, not as an enemy, but as a friend. He convinced me of the good of the Covenant.”

  “Then your message was a lie.”

  “Message?”

  “Kaldor lives.”

  “Oh, that. Yes, I had nearly forgotten. No, that was not a lie.”

  Arda leaned forward. “Kaldor lives?”

  He bent his head slightly. “Not precisely a lie,” he amended. “In truth, I’m not sure. Taer Iriliandrel reappeared in Erindil, but there has been no more word from our chapter house since. I suspect the tower is empty and the Order in Erindil fallen to the hungerbound.”

  “Then why send me the note?”

  “I thought you would want to know, and it was the best way to get you to come here,” he said. “I originally intended to send you to Erindil to investigate, but it does not matter now.”

  She frowned. “Damn right I would want to investigate! How can you say that it’s not important now?”

  He waved his hand dismissively. “You will have to decide for yourself,” he said. “If you still want to go, I will not stop you. I only ask that you hear my argument.”

  She sat back in her chair and crossed her legs, folding her hands patiently on her knee. “Go on then.”

  “You have a right to live,” he stated.

  She stared at him.

  “Everything we have been taught is a lie,” he continued. “Gods and dragons have used mortals for their own ends. Sorcerers have known the truth that priests hide from us: there is no afterlife. When we die, we die, and gods have robbed us of the lives we could live.