Dragonbards

by Murphy, Shirley Rousseau

  News had traveled fast down across the island continents, from owl to fox to great cat to wolf to owl, and at last to Nightpool. The bards listened with excitement to how skilled the animals’ network had grown.

  Thakkur said, “The news that there are still dragons has given us all new hope. Even the owls are working as one for the first time. Owls are always such loners.

  “They have formed cadres and have begun living in communal groups, in the cave sanctuaries. By carrying messages, they have helped the rebel bands come together into a strong army. When news of the dragons and of your victory in Dacia swept the continents, Tebriel, within a matter of days every creature rose to join us.”

  The otters began to talk all at once, telling how the owls had brought news of boats carrying dark soldiers, and how teams of otters had sunk those boats, swimming deep underwater to pierce the hulls with sword and spear. Or if no otters were near, the great cats or the big speaking wolves had swum out in force, clinging to one side of a boat to flip it, killing the soldiers as they tried to swim ashore. The speaking animals were working so well with the resistance that Teb thought this was nearly like the old times when all speaking folk, man and animal, lived in an active, working harmony.

  This very harmony would infuriate Quazelzeg. They all agreed that he would invent new ways to fight them, and a chilling fear touched the little group. The wind seemed to come colder, fingering down inside collars and parting fur, and the surrounding sea seemed all at once an open highway to evil invaders instead of a safe barrier. Little Hanni pushed closer to Thakkur, reaching out a paw. Kiri put her arm around Marshy and drew him near, and squeezed Teb’s hand very hard; and she thought, with Teb, that they dare not let fear touch them so powerfully.

  In late afternoon the two white otters grew restless. Hanni fidgeted, and Thakkur began a nervous pacing.

  The otters and bards had gathered again in the valley, but soon Thakkur was moving back and forth among them; then he and Hanni roved out along the marsh alone, tilting their heads as if they scented something alarming. When they turned to look at the gathered crowd, everyone was watching them.

  The two otters left the valley, climbed the black cliff, and stood on its ridge, sharply white against the afternoon sky. The bards and otters rose and followed them, toward the sacred cave.

  Chapter 11

  I will miss our picnics in the caves of Nison-Serth and the joy in the children’s faces when they explored there. The sacred caves are the only places left that hold the magic of ancient times. The otters have such a cave, and it is utterly secret. Only bard knowledge tells me. I hope they take great sustenance in it, great joy

  *

  The crashing sea echoed across the sacred cave and flung its spray at the door. The walls of the cave, shimmering with sea light, were covered with animal pictures that shifted and changed in the dancing reflections—mosaics wrought from tiny shells by ancient generations.

  “It’s beautiful,” Camery whispered. Kiri and Marshy were silent, looking. Colewolf reached to touch a shell picture of running unicorns—the unicorns that had been driven from Tirror by the dark into other worlds. Perhaps they waited somewhere, for a time when they could return, to bring their healing powers to all men and to the other speaking animals.

  The otters sat down on the floor, crowding together before the raised dais in a tangle of brown bodies. The bards sat on a stone bench against the wall, close together and hushed. The sacred clamshell stood alone on a stone pedestal at the back of the dais, gleaming in the sea shimmer. A white mosaic dragon reared on the wall behind it, wings spread. The chattering otters became still as Thakkur and Hanni mounted the dais. Hanni, only half Thakkur’s height, stretched up as tall as he could, straight and rigid beside Thakkur. The cave was still.

  The shell was perfectly curved, like a great and beautifully made bowl. Its inside was the color of a pale sunset, and it was deeply scalloped around its curved top. As Thakkur lifted his paws to it, its blushing surface began to turn smoky. Thakkur’s whiskers were straight and still, his thick white tail laid out rigid behind him. Hanni stood exactly the same. As Thakkur muttered softly, shadows began to move across the shell and to gather into an image.

  A castle of blood-red stone shone out. Winged jackals paced the top of its high wall, their heads down, their thin lips pulled back to show jagged teeth. Dark soldiers walked in the courtyard. The vision changed to a dim room lit by two greasy torches. Quazelzeg was there, his pale eyes watching the child slaves who knelt before him blank faced. He jerked a dark-haired girl from the line. Her eyes shone with hatred, then were shuttered. When he slapped her, she fell sprawling. When a red-haired boy reached for her, Quazelzeg knocked him to his knees.

  Suddenly a light shone deep in the shell, touching the two children as if a hand had reached into the room and thrown sunlight in their faces. The light condensed down into a shape, touching the boy’s freckled cheek, the girl’s dark eyes with its fleeting image—a three- clawed footprint.

  *

  The vision faded.

  For a long time, no one moved or spoke. In every mind the mark of the dragonbard blazed, searing away all thought save its wonderful—and terrible—meanings. There were two more bards on Tirror. But they were held as slaves by the dark.

  Thakkur and Hanni left the cave without speaking. The bards and otters followed.

  Outside, the dragons had come close to the island, rocking on the sea, their eyes blazing as they crowded against the cliff, for their minds, too, were filled with the vision. They stared north toward Aquervell, fierce with the need to avenge the child bards and to rescue them. Nightraider roared, “We will go at once!” and stretched his wings impatiently.

  “At once,” thundered Starpounder.

  “Attack at once,” roared Windcaller.

  The dragonlings echoed them.

  Teb stared at them, scowling. “No! We’re not going to storm Aquervell in a great show of flashing wings and tempers. Quazelzeg would kill those two children in a second.”

  “Nonsense!” Starpounder bellowed. “We will release them before he can touch them.”

  But they all knew that wasn’t possible.

  Teb stroked Starpounder’s nose. “I think that Quazelzeg does not mean to kill them. He means to use those children. He will torture them, terrify them, in order to train their minds. But he won’t kill them— unless we force him to.”

  “What do you plan?” said Nightraider.

  “We must be stealthy, and we must plan carefully,” Teb said. “I think Quazelzeg wanted Iceflower because he has the child bards—I think he meant to train the children and the young dragon together.”

  “Fool—he is a fool,” Starpounder shouted. “But I think that you are right, Tebriel.”

  “Quazelzeg could never train a dragon!” Nightraider roared.

  “Never,” the dragons agreed, hissing flame.

  Seastrider nudged quietly at Teb. “You mean to go alone, Tebriel—just the two of us.”

  He nodded, reaching to stroke her. “We will slip into Aquervell at night.”

  “No!” Kiri and Camery said together.

  Teb’s look silenced them. “Seastrider and I will go. She will stay hidden. I will get into the palace and get the children out—one shadow slipping in and quickly gone.”

  “And quickly dead,” Camery said.

  He ignored her. “The rest of you will be here to fight Sivich when he brings the dark forces down on Nightpool. This time, Sivich’s attack will be powerful. This time, he will attack Ebis as well. All of you will be needed.”

  “You won’t go alone to Aquervell,” Camery said. The set of her face was as stubborn as Teb’s. “Nightraider and I are going with you.”

  “No,” Kiri said. “The palace at Auric belongs to you and Teb. It is right that one of you be here to fight for it. Besides, the folk of the resistance know you, trust you. I will go with Teb.”

  Teb said, “No one is going with me.” He saw Tha
kkur’s scowl and ignored it.

  Camery said, “You will endanger the children if you go alone. So you will endanger us all. If you were killed, who would get the children out?”

  “Camery is right,” Thakkur said. “Do not let your terrible hatred of the dark lead you astray, Tebriel. Do not underestimate Quazelzeg and what he is capable of—do not let your pride lead you.” The white otter touched Teb’s hand. “We are all in this. You are not a bard alone anymore. Let the love of your friends strengthen and help you.”

  Teb looked at Thakkur and was torn between rebellion and respect for the white Seer’s wisdom.

  “Do you remember the prophesy I once gave you, Tebriel?”

  “I remember.” Thakkur’s prediction spoke sharply in his mind: I see a street in Sharden’s city narrow and mean. There is danger there and it reeks of pain. Take care, Tebriel, when you journey into Sharden.

  “You are not invulnerable,” Thakkur said. “You must not do this alone.”

  He felt perfectly capable of doing it alone, of getting the children out secretly and quickly. But he had never turned away from Thakkur’s wisdom.

  “Do not let pride rule you, Tebriel.”

  Teb sighed. “I will take one bard. Colewolf—Colewolf’s silent speech is strongest. That talent will be needed, with the power of the dark so close.”

  Thakkur eased his rigid stance and touched his worry stones. Colewolf nodded at Teb’s selection.

  “No!” Kiri said. “Papa—you are a stronger fighter. You are needed here. You know more about battle tactics than I. I am smaller; I can get into small places.”

  Teb was silent. He knew very well how clever Kiri was at moving in the shadows of palace passages, at losing herself in attics and niches. But he did not like to take her into danger. He felt a strange and unsettling need to protect her.

  “I want to go with you.” She touched his face. “All the war against the dark is born of danger. You can’t protect someone. I want to be with you.”

  He took her hand and looked up at Colewolf. Colewolf nodded. There is no way one can skirt danger, Tebriel, either here or in Aquervell.

  Teb clenched his jaw, very torn. “Kiri—Kiri and I will leave at dusk.”

  Thakkur said, ‘The otters will prepare dried fish and roots for your packs.”

  Camery put her arm around him. “Will you draw me a map of Windthorst? I haven’t seen it much from the sky, only from horseback—and that so many years ago.”

  They got a piece of charcoal from the fire and crowded into Thakkur’s cave, where the stone floor was smooth and pale. Thakkur and Charkky and Mikk were very interested in the map Teb drew. Marshy curled up on Thakkur’s sleeping shelf, absorbing the strategies of war. Hanni had disappeared.

  “The mountains curve in deeper here,” Teb said, tracing along the center of the continent. “There is a village here, and the river starts here.”

  “We can station mounted troops along the ridge,” Camery said. “In clefts at the foot of the mountains, and along the river.” She smiled. “Seven dragons breathing fire should send Sivich’s army careening into Ebis’s lines like rabbits into a snare.”

  Colewolf nodded, his gray eyes alight. He was going to enjoy this operation.

  “While we’re routing Sivich’s armies,” Camery said, “rebel troops can come up from our coastal villages to clean out Auric Palace and secure it.” She looked at Charkky and Mikk. “Would you two be willing to ride one of the dragonlings, to rally those troops? From the sky you can follow all the action. You have worked with the coastal folk, and you know the lay of the palace.”

  The two otters gawked, their whiskers stiff with excitement. “Hah,” Charkky shouted, “we’ll do that! Oh, yes, we will. We’ll ride a dragon!”

  “I’ll get busy on a harness,” Kiri said, nearly laughing at the otters’ excitement.

  Mikk twitched his whiskers at her. “We’ll help. We sew very well—Tebriel taught us.”

  No one noticed Marshy’s look of annoyance. No one had included him in any plans.

  “Are there still winged jackals in the palace?” Camery asked.

  Thakkur smiled. “Not anymore. There were, until the wolves went with Charkky and Mikk to clean them out. They fed their bodies to the sharks.”

  *

  Marshy left Thakkur’s cave before the bards were finished. No one noticed him leave. No one had asked him to help. No one asked what he could do to help, or what he wanted to do. He limped along the top of the cliff, scowling out at the sea. He could see the dragons far away, circling over the water, diving for fish.

  They hadn’t asked because they meant to leave him and Iceflower behind, in Nightpool. He kicked at the black stone path. They thought he was too small and Iceflower still too weak. Well, they were wrong. Iceflower was all well now, with Mitta’s potions. And he was a bard, as much as they. He had powers, too. He headed for the meeting cave, filled with anger at the older bards’ unfairness, wanting only to be alone.

  He didn’t see Hanni at first, curled up in a little white ball before the mosaic of the white dragon. When he did see the little otter, he went to sit on the dais, beside Hanni. The otter looked up at him, yawning.

  Hanni felt worn out after the vision. He had wanted Thakkur to snuggle him close again and make a bed for him in his own cave, but the old otter had been so busy with the bards, with the terrible business of the captive children. Hanni had come back to the sacred cave and curled up on the dais near the sacred clamshell, watching the play of sea light across the walls.

  The two youngsters looked at each other.

  “They don’t want me to help them,” Marshy said. “They think I’m too little.” He stared at Hanni. “I could help. They will need me.”

  “How?” said Hanni sleepily.

  “I am the only bard small enough to pass for a slave child. They haven’t thought of that.”

  Hanni touched Marshy’s cheek with a soft paw.

  “I could pass as a slave,” Marshy said. “I could get them out.” He stared at Hanni. “They think I’m too young and too little, and that is the very thing that makes me just right.”

  Hanni looked hard at Marshy, his dark eyes shining. Marshy looked back, sullen and angry. Hanni rose and approached the sacred shell.

  The small white otter reared up before the shell and began to mutter in a soft, chittering voice. Soon the surface of the shell grew dark. Dull lights moved deep within, became streaks, then shafts of sunlight falling between cage bars, to touch the faces of children sleeping on a bare stone floor. Dirty, thin children, chained to the bars by their ankles.

  When Hanni began to whisper, darkness tumbled across the clamshell. The next scene was from the sky, looking down upon the red-walled palace. They could see the slave cages in the shadowed corner of the courtyard. Yellow-clad soldiers appeared, driving the slaves out behind lashing whips. Marshy saw the dark, pleading eyes of the girl slave looking up in fear, almost as though she knew they were watching.

  Suddenly the little otter turned from the clamshell and hunkered down on his belly, his nose tucked under his foreleg, his eyes squeezed shut, and he was shivering. Marshy stood staring, terrified for him.

  Thakkur found Marshy on the dais, kneeling over a limp puff of white fur. The old white otter pushed Marshy aside and scooped Hanni up. He stood looking from Marshy to the clamshell.

  “So,” Thakkur said.

  “He brought a vision,” said Marshy.

  “It must have been terrible,” the old white otter said.

  “No worse than before.” But Marshy was filled with the hopelessness in the faces of the two slave children.

  “Hanni may have seen—or felt—more than you.” Thakkur sat down on the edge of the dais cradling Hanni against him, chittering to the young otter. When Hanni didn’t stir, Thakkur carried him out into the sunlight and along the path to his own cave and disappeared inside.

  Marshy stood irresolutely on the ledge, looking toward Thakkur’s cave
, then toward the diving dragons. When suddenly the water below the cliff heaved, and Iceflower thrust up through the waves to stare at him, he was very glad to see her.

  “You are angry and afraid. Come onto my back.”

  Marshy scrambled to her back, and she lifted away from the cliff, over the open sea.

  High on the wind, she said, “Now tell me what has happened.”

  “It’s the child slaves. I want to go. We can help, but Tebriel will never let us.”

  She turned her head to look at him. He stared back into her wide green eyes.

  “I could pass as one of the slaves. I could get inside to them.”

  “How would you get them out?”

  “With Tebriel and Kiri on the outside, I could. But he won’t take me!”

  “Have you asked him?”

  “He’d only say no. He thinks I’m too small—that you are still too weak. But look how strong you are.”

  “Tell Tebriel that.”

  “He won’t listen. If they wanted us to help, they would have said so when they were making their plans.”

  Iceflower bowed her neck. Their minds joined, secure in the same unfolding thought. She gave him another long look; then they flew higher into cloud, to make their plans.

  Chapter 12

  I feel complete trust in only a handful of our soldiers. Garit is one. I would trust my life to Garit. It was he who taught the children to ride, who trained their first ponies—he has been like a brother to us.

  *

  The sky was the color of copper, the sun gone behind the mountains, when Seastrider and Windcaller winged up between streaks of cloud. Below, on the island, Marshy and the otters were crowded together, waving. The five dragonlings had settled obediently among the rocks. Take care, they thought. Take care.