Dragonbards

by Murphy, Shirley Rousseau

As half the children were herded into a field, Teb saw the red-haired boy. The child had stumbled, and a guard kicked him down into the mud, knocking off the dirty cloth he had tied around his head. His hair was red as flame. He had a fresh, bloody wound across his forehead, and his face and arms were bruised. Teb saw Marshy looking, but when a guard paused, Marshy felt Teb’s fear and turned back, and began to hoe sullenly. The guard turned away to snap a cadacus pod off a bush, crack it open, and lick the dry fibers inside.

  Teb moved ahead, keeping his face down. He looked for the owls but couldn’t see them. A lone jackal was winging low in the sky, but he knew the owls wouldn’t let themselves be taunted by jackals. He stood slackly, like the guards, seeming to stare at nothing as he searched the ranks of children for the girl. None of the guards paid any attention to him. The two un-men seemed caught between waking and that silent, stony staring the unliving did in place of sleep. The rest seemed simply sullen, or drugged.

  Teb couldn’t see the girl. Hardly aware he was staring at the red-haired boy, he felt the child touch his mind.

  Don’t stare at me—turn away! Who are you?

  Teb reached to hit at a child near him, turning his back on the bard child. I’ve come to get you out. Where is the girl?

  In the next field. Don’t trust her.

  But she—

  Don’t trust her. The boy went silent as, ahead of them, guards began herding some of the children together, teasing them, making them crawl and grovel, then trying to make them lick the cadacus pods. Some children refused, fighting with terror. Others took the drug obediently. When the obedient children groveled, the guards shoved them and laughed. They beat the children who refused the drugs. Teb watched, feeling sick, keeping himself still with a terrible effort. Marshy’s silent cry was pleading, No, Tebriel—don’t let them. . . .

  The redheaded boy jerked around to stare at Marshy.

  Teb watched, fists clenched. They would risk everything, they would risk the bard children, if they helped.

  We can’t, Marshy!

  He tried to meet the redheaded boy’s eyes, but the child’s face had gone closed and stupid. There was another scuffle, the guards swore, a girl screamed with fury, then voices were lowered. The guards sent the children back to work. Two soldiers started down the lane toward Teb dragging a girl between them.

  It was the bard girl, her dark hair tangled around a pale oval face. She was fighting and shouting. “You promised! You promised you wouldn’t hurt me!” The soldiers dragged her toward Marshy, jerked Marshy out of the field, and shoved the two toward Teb. At once, he was surrounded by guards, their swords pricking his ribs and throat. When he whistled to signal the owls, a guard hit him across the face.

  Marshy shouted, “Neeno . . .”A guard knocked him down. Teb heard an owl scream and saw jackals leaping and feathers on the wind.

  Teb’s right leg was chained to Marshy’s crippled one. They were shoved against a tree as the jackals came to circle them, snapping at their ankles. The girl’s legs were chained together. Teb searched the empty sky. We are captured! Captured! When a jackal bit him hard, clamping its teeth on his ankle, he kicked it in the face. The guards laughed. They were led away, stumbling in the chains.

  Behind them in the cadacus field, the redheaded boy watched their slow, hobbling retreat toward the castle, then returned to hoeing.

  Chapter 15

  I have heard that the greater a man’s strength, the more perfect the un-man’s pleasure in destroying it. Oh, please, whatever powers exist beyond us, guard my children from the unliving.

  *

  Kiri jerked awake, chilled by an owl’s scream. She stared around her. It was light. The owl screamed again, and she heard the yapping of jackals. She grabbed her sword and ran scrambling down the mountain toward the cry. The two owls who had been asleep in the cave swept past her, shouting, “Afeena! Afeena!” The three dragons dove low over her head.

  Halfway down the mountain, among boulders, two winged jackals were pawing and snuffling at a deep crack. The dragons dropped on them, belching fire. Seastrider beheaded one. Windcaller bit the other in two.

  Tybee and Albee hovered over the crack, crying out to Afeena. Kiri knelt and reached in but could barely touch Afeena’s feathers. “Come closer. Come to me, Afeena.”

  Afeena struggled into her hand. Gently, Kiri lifted her out. The little owl’s feathers were bloody. Her wings dragged along Kiri’s wrist. Kiri carried her up to the cave as Tybee and Albee fluttered around her.

  She laid Afeena in her pack among the softest clothes. She was afraid she couldn’t examine her gently enough to search for broken bones. One wing drooped out sideways, and Afeena’s inner eyelids were half closed. Tybee and Albee huddled into the pack beside her and spread their wings to warm her. Afeena’s voice came in a faint whisper.

  “Neeno, ooo, Neeno . . . The jackals killed Theeka and Keetho, but Neeno—I helped him into a hole in the tree beside the cadacus field. He is alive—I took him insects, water, in my mouth, but not enough.” The little owl coughed, then continued. “The jackals watched me, followed me. He will die—he will starve there. Help him . . .”

  “And Teb . . . ?”

  “The guards captured them both, in the field . . . the jackals came. . . . Ooo, help Neeno. The tree closest to the lane where the first two fields meet. Neeno . . .”

  “Can the jackals get into the hole?”

  “No. It is far down and deep. An oak tree.”

  Kiri tied the remaining bundle of drugged meat to Windcaller’s harness and strapped on her pack with Afeena inside. She sent Albee to find Teb and Marshy. She mounted Windcaller carefully, so as not to jar Afeena. Seastrider was in a frenzy to get to Teb, and she knew she must not charge the castle. The three dragons dove for the cadacus field.

  *

  Marshy was chained in the slave cage, huddled down, pretending sleep. All the children had been brought in shortly after he and Teb and the bard girl were locked in the cage. The courtyard had been in an uproar, the dark captains arguing, then going quiet and sullen when Quazelzeg appeared. They beat the dark-haired girl and chained her at the far end of the cage.

  Marshy watched her, but she wouldn’t look at him. What kind of bard was she, to have given away fellow bards? To have ruined her own escape, besides. Across the slave cage, the red-haired boy lay quietly, watching Marshy beneath his crooked arm as he pretended sleep. Marshy had not tried to touch his mind, because the slave girl would know. Fear lay inside Marshy— Teb was somewhere in the palace. He had seen them beat Teb, then march him into the palace in chains. And the dark leader had known Tebriel, had known his name.

  They had tried to make Teb say where his dragons were, how many dragons, how many bards. Marshy knew he had to get out of the cage, had to get to Teb.

  The tortures would be terrible. Where were the owls? He had to get the key.

  *

  The cadacus fields seemed empty as the three dragons skimmed low over the trees. Windcaller came down beside an oak, and Kiri peered into the hole. “Neeno?”

  Neeno gave a small, choking answer. Afeena and Tybee slipped in to him. Kiri filled a twist of leather from her waterskin and pushed it into the hole, then crumbled up dried meat and pushed that in, too. Inside, the owls brushed against her hand, helping Neeno. The dragons were fidgeting and nervous.

  ‘Tebriel lies deep in the palace,” Seastrider said, trembling. “I can sense him; he is strapped to a table, in a windowless chamber.” She shuddered and pawed, huffing fire. “I could storm the palace; I could tear it down. But they would kill him.” She looked hard at Kiri. “I will go there into the courtyard, and I will trade myself for him. The unliving would—”

  “No!” Kiri stroked the trembling dragon. “That would do no good. They won’t give him up, not even to have a dragon. Teb has angered them too often.”

  “But—”

  “We will free him,” Kiri said. “Quazelzeg will not kill him. He—he will torture and drug him.�
�� That knowledge made her feel sick.

  She did what she could for Neeno, but her whole being was shaken with fear for Teb. It took all her strength to make herself wait, with the dragons, deep in the woods until Albee came. The dragons crouched beneath the trees, their wings folded tight, their backs pressed against the low branches, their minds filled with the tortures that battered Teb. The pain of the tortures coursed through Kiri, twisting her, and her mind reeled with the drugs forced into him. When his arms were bent backward, Kiri choked down screams. When Quazelzeg’s face filled her mind, and his cold laugh thundered, she fought him just as Teb did. She saw only hazily the false visions with which Quazelzeg filled Teb’s mind, but even those images sickened her. The dragons shivered with the power they brought to help Teb. Near to dark, Albee came swooping between branches, rousing them from the horror as he buffeted his wings in their faces.

  *

  It was dusk when a kettle of thin gruel was shoved into the slave cage. The stronger children began scooping the slop up in their hands, drinking like starving animals. The weaker ones watched, knowing they would get none, then curled down again to sleep. Marshy shifted position so he could see the red-haired boy, swilling in the gruel. He must speak to him. He must have his help. It would be dark soon; he would go to him then.

  But when the children were black silhouettes against the iron bars, most of them asleep, a little wind stirred Marshy, and an owl fluttered close to his face.

  “It’s Tybee. I have the key.”

  Tybee dropped onto Marshy’s shoulder, and Marshy’s hand closed over the cold metal key. He stroked Tybee, then knelt to unlock his leg chains. He removed them with painful slowness, to make no sound. “They took Tebriel into the palace,” he whispered.

  “Yes, I found him.” Tybee said. “Kiri will go in; she will drug the jackals first. You must unlock all the children, but leave them here. Leave the gate unlocked and closed when you go out. You must help carry Tebriel; he is drugged.”

  “I will bring the bard boy to help us, too.”

  Marshy waited for some time after Tybee had gone, watching the still, dark shapes of the children. When no child stirred, he began to crawl, unlocking each child as he went.

  It took him half an hour to go the twenty feet to the red-haired boy. Finally he lay beside him, barely breathing. The boy put out his hand, touched Marshy’s shoulder, and shifted position so his lips were near Marshy’s ear.

  “Why have you come?”

  ‘To get you out. You and the girl.”

  “It was she who told.”

  “Yes. Why did she?”

  ‘To keep from the things the unliving do to us. She traded the knowledge.”

  “She is a traitor.”

  “No, she only lied to help herself. It’s worse to be a girl—she is often hurt.”

  “We mean to get all the children out. What is your name?”

  “Aven.”

  “And hers?”

  “Darba.”

  “Come with me. Do you know the way to Quazelzeg’s chambers?”

  “Yes.”

  They waited inside the unlocked gate while Windcaller flew slowly across the courtyard and Kiri dropped the meat. Aven stared up at the white dragon, struck to silence by the sight.

  The jackals snatched up the meat, fought, and soon they slept. Windcaller dropped down outside the wall, and Kiri slid onto it. As she secured her rope and swung to the courtyard, Marshy ran to her, dragging Aven. She knelt between them, pulled them close, and told them what she meant to do.

  “You can’t!” Marshy said. “You can’t do that!”

  “We must. It is the only way.” Kiri hugged him hard. “There is no other way to distract the soldiers. Iceflower agrees. She is very brave, Marshy. And so must you be.” She hugged him. “It will work. It must work. There are two grown dragons to protect her.”

  Marshy shook his head, mute and miserable.

  Kiri sighed. “We must try it. We must—for Tebriel. We can’t wait.” She reached into her cloak and gave each boy a knife and sheath. “Strap them on.”

  She led them along in the shadow of the wall, to the scullery door. “Tybee was able to slide the bolt. It took all his strength.”

  They slipped through the heavy door into the palace.

  Chapter 16

  Rebellion against the dark is the greatest gift one can make to the Graven Light—it is the gift we must try to give.

  *

  Teb lay barely conscious, strapped to a tilting table. His mouth was bruised and torn; he was covered with sweat and blood. His drugged mind drifted among labyrinths of terror, and of obedience. Not even when he had lain for weeks on the drowned seawall, mind tortured by the black hydrus, had he sunk to the depths he now embraced. Now he loved Quazelzeg with a raw fear. Quazelzeg was All, was everything, Teb was a part of him, Teb’s will was Quazelzeg’s will.

  He had no notion that Quazelzeg had left the room, nor would it have mattered—Quazelzeg was everywhere, his immediate presence only a minute part of his total presence; his power was in everything.

  Teb had no notion that a small gray owl had winged into the room high against the ceiling shadows, then come to perch on the table to watch him. He would have killed it had he seen it. The floor was scattered with the tools of Quazelzeg’s torture and with the metal tubes the dark ruler had used to siphon the drugs into him. Quazelzeg had given him a boiled derivative of cadacus, powerfully intrusive and deforming of the mind.

  As Kiri and Marshy approached down the dark passage, a sickening smell made them gag—the same smell as of the caged monster. Could Quazelzeg have brought the monster here? But how, in these small chambers? Soon they stood staring, from the shadows, into the chamber where the smell was strongest.

  The room was lit by candles and rich with velvet and gold. Teb was not there, but in the corner stood a small cage. Inside, pressing against the bars, was a little dirty-yellow animal with creased and folded wings and an evil, wrinkled face. They couldn’t make out what it was, but its blazing red eyes searched the doorway and the darkness where they hid. When it glanced away, they went on quickly, following Tybee’s fluttering shadow. They had left Aven posted down the passage in a storage niche.

  They found Teb alone in a bare room, pale, blood-streaked, unconscious. When Kiri untied him and took his shoulders, his head lolled against her. Marshy took his feet, and they fled down the passage and into the storage alcove. His hands and face felt so cold. They hid him behind some crocks and buckets, and Kiri wrapped her cloak around him. His breathing was uneven and thin.

  “What did they give him, Aven? Would cadacus make him like this?”

  “Boiled cadacus would. They put a metal tube down his throat. See the bruises around his mouth?”

  Kiri didn’t want to look. She spit on her handkerchief and wiped blood from his face. If his body was so damaged, what scars did his mind hold? “Can we wake him?”

  “No, it must wear off.”

  She took Teb’s feet, Marshy and Aven took his shoulders, and they fled past the stinking room of the yellow creature and up the dark stone passages. When they heard the shuffle of boots, they froze against the wall, laid Teb on the floor, and waited, knives and sword drawn.

  Two human warriors went by along the cross passage, never looking to right or left, walking with the rigid, unbalanced gait of the drugged.

  The bards were almost to the scullery when a shout sent them running and stumbling. They pushed Teb beneath a scullery table and crouched, weapons drawn, as footsteps pounded toward them.

  “Albee . . .” Kiri breathed. “Albee . . .”

  “Ooo—here.” The owl dropped onto her wrist.

  ‘Tell Iceflower—tell her, Now!”

  The little owl fled, winging through the scullery and out through a crack above the shutter. Feet pounded by them, and more toward the main door, some so close Kiri could have tripped the dark soldiers. Suddenly a dragon’s scream filled the palace, echoing from the co
urtyard, and confused shouting began—Iceflower had begun her act. Kiri slipped to the scullery door to look.

  The courtyard was aflame with Iceflower’s breath. She was rearing, dodging swords, screaming—she twisted away from soldiers who leaped at her head, trying to throw ropes over her. All attention was on the dragonling. Kiri grabbed Teb’s legs; they pulled him from under the table, fled into the shadows of the courtyard, and ran stumbling along the dark wall. They made for the blackest corner, nearly knocked down by milling soldiers backing away from Iceflower. Behind them, Quazelzeg had appeared in the main doorway, shouting, “Get the nets—get the nets on it!” Kiri was terrified he would see them.

  Suddenly white fury dropped out of the sky as Seastrider dove, spitting flame, crushing soldiers. She banked to Kiri, took Teb in her mouth, and shoved him onto her back. Marshy climbed up to tuck Teb’s legs into the harness. In the center of the yard, Iceflower knocked chains away and melted them, burning soldiers—but a captain saw Teb.

  “The bard’s escaping! Get the bard!” The soldiers abandoned Iceflower and charged Seastrider.

  “No!” Quazelzeg roared. “Forget the bard! The bard is mine now! Catch the dragon—I want the dragon!”

  As the dark soldiers turned back to circle Iceflower, Seastrider lifted clear. Kiri grabbed Aven’s hand, and they ran for the slave cage. “The girl first,” Kiri said. “Get the girl!”

  Windcaller dropped down out of the sky to them as the slave children swarmed around the gate. When Kiri flung the gate open, she saw the bard girl. The bolder children surged out, and the bard girl’s eyes met Kiri’s. She was pressing forward three timid, confused children, but they fought her, backing and staring. Aven moved to help her, and together they herded the children toward Windcaller, pushing and dragging.

  “Don’t be afraid,” the bard girl begged. “It’s a singing dragon! She’ll free us.” But the three children balked and turned back.

  “She won’t hurt you!” Kiri cried. “She’ll carry you to safety. Go to her!” She lifted one and pushed him up onto Windcaller. “She’s a singing dragon, she won’t hurt you!”