A Broken Throne

by Jordan Baker

  "If your mother is correct and this power has returned, then it would make sense that dragons would be considered a threat if they fought against the shadow in the past," Ariana said. "Borrican spoke of it to the elders, and maybe the wisdom of the Akandra has shown him things that he understand more than I do, but he believes that Cerric has the power of the shadow, and from what I saw at Kandara, it has something to do with those mage priests."

  "There is much that is happening in the world, and things I do not understand though I now share many of your thoughts," Vale said. "Perhaps dragonkind has been away from the world for too long."

  "Maybe we can help one another to understand," Ariana offered.

  "I would like that," Vale said and she reached over and touched Ariana's hand.

  As before, the echoes of emotions that flitted between them became a torrent within their thoughts, and they sat together exploring memories, those of dragons past and many of their own. Ariana was overwhelmed at first by the intensity of Vale's thoughts, but she began to understand the way of dragons and how much of what she thought to be anger was merely the aggressive nature of their being, and was not malicious. It was merely a part of dragon culture, to challenge and to be challenged, always demanding and commanding respect. It was a different way, but it made sense among dragonkind. Ariana was also surprised to discover that the intensity of dragons in their aggression and the rage and anger of dragon thoughts was also matched by a depth of passion that was equally powerful, love and loyalty that could not be swayed by anything or anyone. It was comforting to feel such unreserved commitment from another, knowing that they both would defend each other to the death.

  Thought the light of the outside world did not penetrate into the deep cavern, when night finally fell, the two queens, one who was not a dragon, and the other who was, lay together and allowed their thoughts and emotions to carry them away on a warm river of comforting bliss. Together, they let go of their many worries about all that had happened and drifted off to sleep, the first restful night either of them had in a good long time.

  *****

  Keira nudged Margo and the two women slipped out from underneath the furs where they had been pretending to sleep. They stole over to the hearth, where the fire had burned down and burning coals now cast only a faint reddish glow. Not worrying about burning themselves, since neither the cold nor the heat of flame seemed to affect them any longer, they scooped out handfuls of black ash and mixed it with oil and bits of fat they had pilfered from the food they had been given, making a dark paste out of it, which they smeared over their bodies. Once they had covered the stones that now glowed brightly with the energy that had been absorbed from them, they looked each other over and prepared to leave the dwelling, which was strangely unguarded.

  "I can see in the dark, so keep close to me," Keira said.

  "Of course," Margo replied, smearing a little more of the black coal paste on the elven woman where the light of a stone was showing through. "Lead the way."

  Silently, they slipped out of the stone dwelling and into the icy cold of the night, picking their way through the village to where they knew their belongings would be. Dala, who they had learned was the leader of the village, had offered them to join her people and become watchers, but they would have to give up their worldly possessions and begin new lives. The only alternative to her offer was that they would be put to death, painlessly and mercifully in honor of their service to the order, but killed just the same, for Dala and her people were determined that the village of watchers would remain a secret. Keira and Margo had tried to reason with the woman, but to no avail, so they decided that if the only real option was death, then they might as well try to escape.

  With stealth borne of years of training and experience, Keira and Margo snuck to the center of the dwellings where their clothing was kept in piles, laid out before the village fire, ready to be burned as a sign, a symbolic act as demonstration that they would join these strange people who lived in the ice and snow and kept watch over the land of fire. Intending no such thing, the two women waited at the corner of a stone building near the fire circle, holding in place as one of the villagers walked by, then they dashed like two dark apparitions through the glow of the fire, snatching their things and disappearing into the shadows once more. They rolled their clothes into bundles and quickly strapped their swords and knives to their waists and legs, then flitted through the gaps between the dwellings, making their way toward one last place.

  Near the edge of the village was a small forge, where they had seen Dala and several of the villagers working with a kind of fire magic, a white hot flame that they had never seen before, and they used it to craft jeweled weapons and armor of the same metal from which Dala's dagger was made. Both Keira and Margo were sure that it was silvergold, a metal so rare that it was believed by many that it could only be fashioned by the gods. And yet, here in this village of watchers, an estranged tribe of people who appeared to be descended from a group of Rangers, there were several who could work such metal, and it looked as though they had been doing so for generations. Though the people of the village seemed to keep no belongings of their own, the weapons and other implements of battle they possessed would fetch a king's ransom at least, if it were even possible to put a price on such items.

  The forge was quiet and Keira and Margo slipped in and out, each taking a sword, a dagger and a few pieces of armor that they were able to grab silently without risk of making any noise. Once they were clear of the village and well down the path toward the fields of lava, they ducked into a thin crevice that ran away from the trail, taking a moment to gather themselves. Keira began to unroll her bundle of clothing and Margo shook her head.

  "Do you think those will last even a few moments in that heat?"

  "And what would you have me do?" Keira said. "Continue to traipse around with nothing?"

  "I don't mind looking at you," Margo told her with a shrug and she smiled with a twinkle in her eye. "It isn't like it's going to be cold where we're going."

  "Margo," Keira said her name with only the barest hint of irritation, and she felt her pale cheeks flush in embarrassment. "If we are to find Ariana, we should do so as proper Rangers and I am a member of the Queen's Guard."

  "And once we find the princess and we return to Kandara and the elven forests, what will you wear when your clothes have been turned to ash? While these stones seem to protect us from the fire as well as the ice, the heat coming from that lava will surely destroy cloth and maybe even leather."

  "So, we should walk naked into the fire?"

  "How else does one do such a thing?" Margo quipped. "I suggest we don this armor and hope that neither it nor we will melt or burst into flame."

  Keira sighed and rolled up her clothing into a bundle once more and they strapped on the pieces of armor they had stolen, shoulder guards, bracers, greaves, which clasped together with linked mail so finely crafted it was almost like cloth. They strapped their newly acquired blades to their sword belts and hoped that the thick leather that hung from their hips would survive the heat that lay ahead.

  Once they were equipped, Keira and Margo made their way back out to the path and continued onward to the place where Ariana had leapt from the cliff and into the lava fields below and they found Dala waiting for them.

  "You have made your choice," she said.

  "No," Margo replied. "We are making a different one. We wish you no harm, but we do not wish to join your people. We are Rangers of the Order, and must fulfill our duties."

  "And you would steal as well?" Dala accused.

  "And you would kill us if we do not join your people?" Keira responded.

  "Your lives were forfeit in the snow," Dala said. "They are no longer your own."

  "We happen to disagree with you," Margo said.

  "Stand aside, Dala," Keira said. "We wish you no harm."

  Dala stared at them, her expression both incredulous and unyielding.

  "You wi
ll be harmed," she told them. "It cannot be prevented, for you have made your choice."

  "You're not giving us a choice," Margo said and then she looked over at Keira and let out a sigh. "This is much like talking to a wall."

  They drew their new weapons, ready for the blinding attacks that they knew would come. Dala disappeared, but Keira blocked her attack and shoved her back. Dala caught her balance, then she moved again, barely even a blur. Margo caught her dagger on the crosspiece of her blade, then she smashed her head into Dala's face. The watcher woman staggered backwards, caught off guard and her vision blurred. Keira and Margo took advantage of her confusion and moved in, smashing at her with the hilts of their swords. Dala fell to the ground, and her dagger fell from her hand as she tried to fend them off. Margo grabbed a handful of the woman's white hair and dragged her toward the edge of the cliff and Keira picked up Dala's dagger, taking a closer look at the glowing gem embedded at the end of its hilt.

  "How?" Dala cried as Margo held her over the sheer drop. "How have you beaten me?"

  "Dala," Keira said as she walked calmly toward her and Margo. "You and your people are watchers, member of our order, and you have been diligent in your task. You are also skilled at making things and your talents as fighters is impressive, but you lack knowledge of the world, and you lack experience of what it means to fight a real opponent."

  "It is impossible," Dala said. "I am the most skilled warrior among my people."

  "You betray the direction of your attack with your eyes," Margo told her. "It leaves you blind."

  "It is the same with your duty to the order. You have become so focused on your task, that you have forgotten the purpose of that task. That you would threaten us, members of your own order, shows that you have lost your way and that you have forgotten why we search, watch and defend."

  "We must keep watch," Dala said. "It is our oath, our duty."

  "Yes," Margo said. "But what is the purpose of that task? Do you not have an oath and duty to give aid to allies, to shelter and support members of our order? What is the purpose of the order? It is not simply to watch. That is but one of your duties, and it seems you have forgotten the rest."

  "We seek the truth."

  "If you seek the truth, then you will watch the world, and not just some forsaken lands," Keira said. "Let her go."

  "You would throw me to the fire?" Dala asked, accusingly.

  Margo shook her head and tossed her to the ground, safely away from the edge of the cliff.

  "Stop assuming things," she said. "We don't appreciate what you've done to us, but we're not going to kill you for it. If you want to do some good, you might think about stopping the madness that has gripped Kandara. You and your people, you are Kandaran, aren't you?"

  "We are watchers," Dala said.

  "You are Kandarans," Margo said. "You may look different now, your hair turned white and marked with symbols and stones, but I know my own people. Your duty is to protect Kandara, and while you have been up here in the ice and snow, watching and waiting, the kingdom has fallen to darkness."

  "The kingdom is secure," Dala said. "The oath of the dragon king is eternal."

  "The dragon king is dead," Margo told her. "Killed by another king who calls himself a god and commands legions of the dead. If you would care to seek the truth, you and your people can go and see it for yourself. In the meantime, we must find the one you would have condemned, for she seeks one who might stand against the darkness, the Prince of Kandara, a dragon of fire."

  Dala slowly rose to her feet and stared at Margo and Keira, then she moved like a blur once again, but she stopped in front of Keira, who pressed the jewel of her own dagger against the center of her chest. Dala gasped and crumpled to the ground as the jewels on her body dimmed and her body became weak. Keira trembled as the power that flowed from the watcher ran through the dagger and into her, a powerful infusion of energy suddenly coursing through her being. She was surprised at the intensity of it, and how pleasurable it was to gain so much power all at once. It was the sort of thing that one who was weak of will could easily want more of, and she did not like that feeling.

  "These weapons and these stones," she said, looking down at Dala. "They steal power. I have heard of this from ancient stories, and how such things were hidden away, for they caused much destruction. You and your people must be careful with such power, Dala, or you would risk falling prey to the shadow."

  Keira dropped the dagger to the ground next to Dala, who she knew would be too weak to move for some time. Leaving her there, she and Margo walked away and began picking their way down the jagged rocks that sloped off to the side of the cliff, toward the lava flows. With every step closer, the heat became more and more intense, and Margo and Keira both began to feel a little uncomfortable, but at least the glow of the lava gave off enough light that they could see the way ahead. Keira pointed to a dark path of rocks that ran from the bottom of the slope and crossed to a large slab that jutted out from the other side.

  "Even with the protection of these stones, I do not like the idea of touching this molten stone," Keira commented as she leapt across a gap between the stones.

  "Are you sure that Ariana could have survived it?" Margo asked, jumping across, over the lava.

  "She is different," Keira said. "She has the power of fire, and she was unafraid. I think she would have been unharmed."

  "I truly hope so," Margo said. "I would hate for us to have come all this way to fail at protecting her."

  "We will not fail," Keira said, and she leapt to the next stone. "We must not fail."

  CHAPTER NINE

  "Is your name Brian?" a voice growled behind him.

  Brian looked up from the remains of his plate of food and turned around in his seat at the tavern table to see a mean looking warrior with his sword drawn. He noticed that two uniformed soldiers stood behind the man, looking on.

  "Who are you?" Brian asked.

  "Answer the question," the warrior said.

  Brian pushed his plate away and stood up from the table, turning to face the man.

  "Is there a problem of some kind?" he asked.

  "Just answer," the warrior growled.

  "I'm Brian," he said.

  "Good," the warrior replied and he raised his sword to attack.

  Brian rushed forward and grabbed the man's sword arm and smashed into him with his shoulder armor, knocking him back. Patrons scrambled out of the way as they grappled, knocking against tables and smashing into people who were too slow to move.

  "What's going on here!" yelled the innkeeper.

  "It's the tourney," said one of the soldiers. "Final rounds are in the city, by order of King Cerric."

  "You're soldiers," the innkeeper complained. "You're to keep the peace, aren't you? Now get them out of here before they ruin my tavern!"

  "We're to observe the match," said the other soldiers. "You don't like it, take it up with the King."

  Brian felt his grip on the warrior's hand slipping and he was worried that the sword might hit someone so he dodged to the side and let go, then pushed the man's arm forward so his swing would carry too far and hit the floor. The warrior stumbled forward and Brian stepped back, pulling one of his axes free just in time to block a wide swing as the man spun around. He twisted the handle around and tried hooking the blade but the warrior pulled his sword free, then thrust quickly at Brian, narrowly missing his face as he ducked to the side. The blade came at him again and he jammed his axe upward, knocking the sword away, then he dashed forward, throwing his weight into the man and knocking him back toward a table now empty of patrons.

  The warrior fell back onto the thick, wooden surface, knocking mugs and plates and he rolled out of the way as Brian's axe came down with a crash. It was not meant to be a killing blow, which Brian had tried to avoid in his fights, but it was obvious the warrior knew that a hit like that would end the fight immediately. He spun to his feet and sidestepped away from Brian as he yanked his axe free fr
om the table, then drew his second axe.

  Brian moved in on his opponent, blocking his lightning quick sword thrusts and knocking his blade aside. The warrior was fast, and his attacks were erratic and without pattern, switching unpredictably from short stabs to whirling swings. Brian crossed and slashed with his axes, blocking and cutting at the man, driving him back, then he noticed the patrons behind the warrior, crowding up against the back wall of the tavern. Another wide swing of the man's sword could easily cut someone, and a few of them began to draw their own weapons.

  "No interference! Anyone caught interfering in the King's Tourney will be guilty of treason and put to death!" yelled one of the soldiers and Brian saw the patrons stay their hands, though they still kept them on their swords and knives.

  He glanced over his shoulder and saw that one of the soldiers had raised a crossbow and had it aimed at the patrons. The warrior swung wildly again and the tip of his blade grazed a young man behind him in the chest, and he screamed, but the warrior ignored it. Several patrons, red faced and angry looked as though they were ready to attack the warrior, but the soldier yelled for them to keep back, threatening with his crossbow.

  Brian was already angry that Cerric would make such a degree, that tournament fights would take place like this in the city, and he was angered further that the soldiers did not seem to care that regular people might be injured. He knew he could beat the warrior if he cornered him, but the only way to do that would be to press him against the crowd, and they would surely be harmed if he did, so he stepped back, drawing him away, and sidestepped in between jab and blocks, trying to angle the fight in a different direction. The warrior smiled, apparently thinking that he was winning the fight, but he did not shift his position. Instead, his attacks became more powerful, but with the added strength they became slower as well.