"Here, Doog, here!" Lord Cain said.
The huge, scarred man trundled up to his master, then stood on wobbly legs. Saliva dripped from his wound down to his shirt.
"Merciful stars, Cain," Rune said.
Cain barked his laugh, fluttering his mustache. "Meet Doog. Do you like his face? Ha! I gave him that wound myself—slammed my axe so hard into his face he leaked half his brain. He kind of looks like the canyon we live in, doesn't he?" He turned to the poor soul. "Here, boy, I have a treat for you."
Cain fished through his pocket, produced a wafer, and held it out. Doog ate it from his hand like a trained hound.
"By the Abyss, Cain," Rune muttered. "He's a man, not a dog."
Cain spat. "Ah, he's got no sense left in him. Took it with his face, I did; he's more beast than man now. I trained him myself. Want to see him do tricks? Sit, Doog, sit!"
"We have no time for this," Valien interjected. "Cain, enough of your games. Rune will fight the poor soul. And he will defeat him."
Rune bit his lip, not so sure about that. Doog was perhaps a halfwit, but he was twice Rune's size. Each of his arms could have been a person on its own.
"Valien…" he began.
The gruff knight strode toward him, grabbed his shoulders, and leaned close.
"Is there a problem, Rune?" Valien said, and a hint of a smile touched his lips. "I've trained you well. You are young and strong. You can defeat him."
Rune looked over at Doog. The brute was chortling and drooling and begging for treats from his master. An ugly sound rose from his wound, halfway between a yowl and a mewl. Rune wasn't sure whether it sounded pathetic or terrifying.
He leaned closer to Valien and whispered. "Stars, Valien, he's bigger than Beras."
Valien shrugged. "Should make a bigger sound when he falls." His face grew somber. "Rune, understand—Cain is an old sort of fighter. You're used to fighting among resistors, men of honor and hope and light. Cain is a different kind of man. He will not follow starlight or dreams of Old Requiem. He will follow strength. He will follow a man he believes can be king. Show him your strength today, and he will lend us his army." Valien nodded. "When you joined our fight, I never promised you safety. You knew that battles lay ahead. You fought soldiers in a great battle. This man you must fight alone." He dug his fingers into Rune's arms. "And greater enemies await you; someday you will face Frey himself in battle. First you must pass this test."
Rune looked again at Doog. He was now howling and swinging his arms; Cain was goading him with a spearhead like a man riling up a war dog before a fight.
If Kaelyn were here, she would say this is madness, Rune thought. She would urge for calm, for peace, for another way. He tightened his lips. Yet Kaelyn isn't here, and Lord Devin Cain is a different sort of man; Valien is right about that. I'll have to play by his rules today.
He nodded. "I will fight him."
They left the hall—Rune, Valien, and a hundred dwellers of the castle. They stood within the canyon. Outside the palace facade stood Lord Cain, wrapped in his ratty cloak, his wild red-and-white hair fluttering in the wind. At his side stood his daughter, the Lady Lana, clutching the hilt of her saber; her hair too billowed, its single white strand like a banner. Around them stood a crowd of canyon soldiers.
These men were Cain's personal host; they had served his family for hundreds of years, and they did not wear the black steel of the Legions. Their armor was pale, their cloaks gray like the cliffs around them. They did not bear the longswords of the Legions, but curved sabers shaped like the canyon they dwelled in. They wore the red spiral upon their armbands, as decreed for all soldiers in the empire, yet not upon their breastplates; there they sported the sigil of House Cain, two stone statues guarding a gateway.
The actual Stone Guardians towered above the men. Rune glanced up at them, then back down at the cracks at their feet. He swallowed when he remembered how close their fists had come to crushing him.
"Remember, Rune," Valien said, leaning close to whisper in his ear. "You will fight as dragons here. Fly fast. Do not hesitate to blow your fire. We have flown many times in the night. Use the sun now; let it blind your enemy."
Rune nodded and looked over at that enemy. Doog stood in the canyon, his iron collar and anklets gleaming. The beast tossed back his head and howled, a roar so loud the canyon seemed to shake and birds fled. Spittle flew from the smaller canyon rifting his face.
"I'm afraid," Rune said. Ice seemed to encase his innards.
Valien nodded. "All wise men fear battle. Only fools rush fearless into a fight. The true warrior is not he who feels no fear, but he who conquers fear."
Rune nodded, forcing himself to swallow, and clenched his fists to stop them from trembling.
I will conquer my fear, he told himself. I will fly fast. I will use the sun. I will win this. For Kaelyn. For Requiem. For Tilla.
"Doog!" Cain shouted and raised his fists. "Crack his bones!"
Doog repeated the gesture, raising his fists to the sky, and his howl pealed across the canyon. The scarred, collared man shifted into a dragon. Scales of motley grays, blacks, and browns rose upon him, clattering like mismatched plates of armor. His claws drove into the canyon floor, and his tattered wings raised storms of dust. Long horns grew from his head, but like his human form, the dragon Doog had no face; the same scar drove into his dragon's head. A single fang thrust out from the crevice, and fire smoldered within. His head looked like a volcano ready to erupt.
"Rune, shift!" Valien shouted.
Rune summoned his magic. Black scales flowed across him, and he beat his wings and soared.
The scarred, metallic dragon howled and flew toward him, a beast of rattling scales and smoke and spurting flame.
Rune blew his fire.
The jet blazed across the canyon, roaring and spinning. Doog howled and his flames burst, not a neat jet, but a wild fountain like exploding barrels of gunpowder. Rune's stream crashed against the inferno, and fire filled the canyon.
Rune beat his wings and rose from flame. He flew higher. The canyon walls raced at his sides. Below he saw Doog thrash in the blaze, and then the beast soared too, howling and lashing his tail. Doog blew more fire. The beast had no jaws for blowing narrow, flaming streams like other dragons; instead he spewed burning showers thick with saliva.
Rune cursed. He had trained to dodge thin jets of fire; he knew how to bank around them, then blow his own flames. Toward him rose an inescapable inferno like an overflowing smelter. He kept soaring. The fire kept rising below; Doog was still ascending, spraying his heat. The canyon walls raced at his sides, trapping Rune. The fire was rising too quickly; he'd never reach the canyon top in time.
He cursed, shut his eyes, and swooped.
He screamed as he crashed through the flames. His scales blazed; he felt the flesh beneath raise welts. He burst from the blaze, stretched out his claws, and slashed at Doog.
Rune yowled. Sparks flew. Doog's scales were thick as steel plates. Rune's claws flared in agony, not even denting the beast's scales.
He kept diving toward the canyon floor, smoke rising across him. The men howled and shouted below. Valien was shouting commands, but Rune couldn't make out the words. Doog yowled above him, and when Rune glanced up, he saw fire crashing down.
Stars damn it!
Rune swooped toward the canyon floor, then leveled off and skimmed across the cracks and stones. When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw Doog crash down onto the canyon floor, cracking the stone before rising again with a howl.
They raced through the canyon. Rune flapped his wings with all his strength, streaming over the canyon floor. The wind roared. The canyon walls blurred. Birds fled overhead. Flames crackled behind him, and when Rune glanced behind him, he saw the beast following. Doog flew at a totter. A burly dragon, his belly slammed against boulders, his tail lashed at canyon walls, and his claws tore the ground. Dust and rocks rained around him, and he screeched from his wound of a mouth, spraying
fire.
Rune cursed, looked back ahead, and flew faster. His lungs and wings blazed with pain. The Castle-in-the-Cliff vanished behind.
He wanted to attack. He had trained to fight dragons. Yet this felt more like fighting an erupting volcano.
Rune snarled.
I tore off the wing of Shari Cadigus herself. I fought an army of legionaries and axehands. I can defeat this beast too.
The flames licked his tail. Rune narrowed his eyes, lowered his flight to a mere foot above the ground, and raced toward a towering boulder that rose from the canyon floor like a lighthouse. Doog squealed behind him, flames showering across the canyon and singeing Rune.
With a howl, Rune reached the boulder, curved his flight, and spun around it. Flames crashed against the stone. Rune came shooting back toward Doog and blew his fire.
The jet blazed and roared. Doog screeched. Flames crashed against him and Rune rose higher. He overshot Doog and swiped his claws, driving them across the dragon's back.
Sparks showered. Rune screamed. One of his claws tore off and clattered down. His blood spilled.
Bloody stars! he thought. Did the dragon have scales of steel?
He kept racing along the canyon, now moving back toward the Castle-in-the-Cliff. When he glanced behind him, he saw Doog following. The flames had blackened his scales, but the dragon was still howling and sputtering his fire and drool.
Rune flew with all his might, but he was too slow. Doog's claws wrapped around his tail. Rune floundered, caught in the grip. He kicked, slamming his claws into Doog's ruined race. The beast bellowed. His mouth, a mere hole with one fang, opened inside his scar. He drove his head forward and bit.
Rune roared. The fang drove into his leg, and blood spilled, and fear flooded Rune.
I can't win this. I will die here.
He kicked and beat his wings madly, unable to free himself. Doog pulled him down, and Rune slammed against the canyon floor. Rock cracked beneath him. Claws lashed him.
"Rune!" shouted a distant voice; it seemed to be calling from another world. "Rune, on your feet—burn him!"
He looked up, blinking, but saw only flames. The heat blasted his back. His scales widened in the heat and cracked. Pain drove through him like daggers, and the howls of the beast tore through him. His blood splashed across the canyon floor.
"Rune!" shouted the distant voice. "Up, damn you! On your feet."
Valien.
It was Valien shouting in the distance. In the cloud of pain, memories of his training returned to him: long nights swinging swords, flying as dragons, blasting smoke, and lashing claws tipped with wood.
Valien. Leader of the Resistance. The wisest, strongest man Rune had known. The man who raised the torch of Requiem, who gave Rune hope.
I will not die today, Valien.
He snarled, shoved against the canyon floor, and flipped onto his back.
Doog howled atop him, a demon of scale and flame, twice his size and showering fire and blood and smoke.
I maimed Shari Cadigus. I toppled the walls of Castra Luna. I can defeat him.
Doog's maw came lashing down, his fang thirsty for more blood. Lying on his back, wings splayed out, Rune blew his fire.
The jet shrieked, crashed against Doog's face, and showered back down onto Rune. He closed his eyes against the heat. The weight lifted above him. Rune leaped up, beat his wings, and flew.
He raced back toward the Castle-in-the-Cliff. Behind him, Doog howled and chased, claws banging against the floor, tail chipping the canyon walls at their sides. They raced through fire and dust and raining rocks.
I can't cut him, Rune thought. I can't claw or bite him. I slammed my fire into his head, and still he flies.
Rune gritted his teeth.
He's too strong. He's too big. I cannot cut or burn him.
He roared, blood in his eyes.
I will crush him.
He saw the castle facade ahead. Cain and the others still stood outside the palace, watching and howling and cheering. The Stone Guardians framed the castle gates, a hundred feet tall.
Valien's words echoed in his mind. The true warrior is not he who feels no fear, but he who conquers fear.
Rune roared and flew toward the palace gates. His wings beat and raised storms of dust. In mid-flight, he released his magic.
He returned to human form.
He tumbled through the air, shouted, and landed at the feet of a statue.
He looked up. He saw Doog flying toward him, belly skimming the canyon floor, claws reaching out to tear him apart.
The statue creaked above.
Rune leaped back.
The burly, scarred dragon came flying beneath the statue.
The statue's fist slammed down.
Stone drove against scales. The fist crushed Doog's head like a war hammer crushing a tin helmet. The dragon's skull caved in. Blood and gore gushed out. Doog's single fang tore free and clattered against the canyon floor. He gave a few last flaps of his wings, and his tail lashed… and he lay still.
Rune panted, still in human form, his clothes soaked with sweat and blood. Silence fell across the canyon. The hundreds of soldiers watched, not daring to breathe.
The stone statue raised its fist, straightened, and stared blankly ahead. Below, Doog's skull leaked. With a fluttering of dust, the dragon returned to human form. He lay dead, a burly man, his head caved in.
Rune stood, breath shaking, legs bleeding, and clothes smoking. He stared down at the corpse. He shook his head, clenched his fists, and looked up at Lord Cain with burning eyes.
"He was only a halfwit," Rune said, voice hoarse. "He was only a poor, scarred man with the mind of a child. And you made him fight." Rune spat. "I slew him, Cain. I slew him for you." He stepped up toward the lord, fists shaking, and hissed. "But know this—I will never more shed blood for your sport. I fly to kill Frey Cadigus next, and you will fight with me, or it will be your blood I shed once Frey's throne is mine."
Lord Cain stared back, eyes shrewd beneath his bushy brows. His lips twisted. His face was like beaten leather bristly with red and white stubble. His fists clenched too, veins rose in his neck, and Rune was sure the lord would strike him.
Then Cain snorted out a great laugh that ruffled his mustache.
"Aye, you scoundrel!" the lord boomed, grabbed Rune, and pulled him into a crushing embrace. He then shoved him back and punched Rune's shoulder. "Your cheeks might be as smooth as a virgin's teats, but you've got bollocks, boy."
He roared his laughter. It echoed across the canyon. Rune only stared, fists still tight. Sweat and blood dripped down his forehead, but he would not even blink. He kept staring at the lord.
"Fight with me, Cain," he said.
Lord Cain was still roaring his laughter, chest heaving. "Aye, I'll fight with you, lad. We two… we will shed blood together." He raised his fist and roared. "We will roast Frey's warty backside, and the south will be mine! House Cain will rise!"
His soldiers repeated the cry, raising fists and howling the name of their lord.
Rune stood still, blood dripping. Valien approached him, eyes somber, and clutched his shoulders.
"You did well, Rune," the older man said.
Rune did not turn to look at him. He only stared down at the brute's corpse.
Killing him was a mercy, Rune told himself, and his eyes stung. Cain tortured him. Cain drove that axe into his face, then forced him to beg for treats like a dog. It was a mercy.
And yet Rune's heart twisted, and he couldn't swallow the lump in his throat.
Lady Lana approached him too. Rune looked up at her, wondering how a woman so fair, her face pale and noble, could have been born to a monster like Cain.
"Rune," she said softly. "Stay with us tonight. Feast with us. We will tend to your wounds, then eat and drink."
Rune looked over her shoulder at Lord Cain; the man was roaring with laughter and pointing at the dead Doog.
Kaelyn's words echoed in his mind
, soft and kind.
The wise work with small devils to slay the big ones.
Rune closed his eyes. She had spoken those words about Beras, and Rune clung to them now, but they could not warm the ice in his belly.
"We're leaving this place," he said and opened his eyes. He looked at Valien. "We leave now. Come, Valien. There's still an hour of daylight. We can cross a few miles before night falls." His voice sounded too dry to him, too pained. "We're going back."
Without waiting for a reply, Rune shifted into a dragon, took flight, and soared. The canyon walls blurred at his sides. When he reached the forest above, he landed among the trees, shifted back into a man, and gritted his teeth so hard they hurt. He walked through the forest, refusing to look back.
SCRAGGLES
He walked through the forest, hungry and thirsty and so weary he almost fell. His tongue lolled. His belly twisted, feeling so shrunken it could touch his back. The trees rose around him in the sunset, branches creaking and reaching out like cruel men in armor. They frightened Scraggles, but he had to keep moving. He had to find food. He had to find water. And more than anything, he had to find his master.
He had been walking for a long time now. Scraggles could barely remember the last time he lay upon a blanket, ate a true meal, or felt warm and safe. Yesterday he had caught a robin and eaten it, then retched it up later. He had not eaten since. A few miles back he had drunk from a stream, but the water had tasted foul, and his throat still blazed.
I need food, he thought. I need real food—roast meats and stewed vegetables and anything hot and hearty.
He thought back to the food at the Old Wheel. His master would feed him from his table, and Scraggles would feast upon roast boar, fresh bread, and cheese, and he would even drink of the tavern's ale. There had been a warm fireplace too, a rope to gnaw, and a blanket by the hearth Scraggles would rest on. There had been his master tending to him, patting him, and hugging him in the cold nights.
All that was gone now. The woman with the pale hair had snatched his master from the tavern. The dragon had swooped and its fire rained. Scraggles had barely escaped the flames. He had raced through the city, his fur smoking, seeking his master, but could not find him. He had spent moons on the boardwalk, waiting for Master to return, never losing hope. Finally he had set out into the forest, seeking him.
A Birthright of Blood (The Dragon War, Book 2) Page 7