by Meg Cowley
~
Within hours Soren had set up a lavish camp half a mile outside the city’s south gate on a small hill by the royal forest, joined by throngs of people who flocked to see him and offer themselves, their men or their goods in his service. His solitary tent, surrounded by the three dragons, became one of many as first Behan and his soldiers set up tents nearby, and then makeshift tents sprung up all around as more men joined him.
Behan inventoried everything; every man and woman, every set of chain mail, every horse that joined them, and reported regularly to Soren. Soren, despite his tiredness and wounds, rode about the camp on a spirited stallion, loaned to him by Behan with his personal guard, also loaned by the steward, to meet and thank as many individuals as he could for their support.
He was surprised to find some of the great houses there, though more shocked by how few men they brought. When he spoke to them, they reported themselves still loyal to his cause despite many of their men already lying dead, massacred and killed in the fighting following Zaki’s seizure of the throne.
Soren did not know whether to be disheartened at the fact that so few men from the houses he had expected to be loyal were signing up in his service, or gladdened that any true fighting men had joined at all. Hiding his troubled feelings, he thanked their captains and lords for their support and promosed rewards and revenge for their help – hoping he could fulfil his words.
The most surprising contribution to his ranks was the swelling group of women from the farmers’ guild. As hunter-gatherers, they were strong and skilled in a wealth of useful talents from spear throwing to archery, in addition to having a bank of knowledge regarding local natural remedies and poisons. He found himself gladder for their pledges.
Many more ordinary citizens had joined his cause, including more women than he had expected; they seemed to relish the thought of having the chance to help. Despite his invite for women to fight alongside him, Soren turned away many a young boy eager to fight, specifying to Behan that he would not allow any boy under the age of sixteen nor girl under the age of eighteen to sign up. Soren returned to oversee his new recruits’ skills testing personally after a few hours riding around the growing camp of people, which Behan’s men conducted on a patch of land kept clear from tents and other people.
By sunset that day, the camp had swelled with people joining from the outlying lands of the city, those who lived in the city beyond the gates, and men from the great houses that were within the walls. Nearly three and a half thousand men and women signed up promising their service, with Behan assigning them tasks from fighting to cooking – and healing, knowing there would be casualties to come.
Night was fraught with anxiety for Soren. After the previous night, he did not much feel like sleeping. Edmund remained with him, as did Behan and a large personal guard within the tent. As awkward as it felt trying sleep surrounded by men, Edmund’s relaxed presence helped soothe his nerves and before he knew it, the sun had risen once more before he woke.
“Sire, wake up!” Behan called to Soren, who sat bolt upright at the noise and cast around for the source. “Riders approach from the city!”
Soren scrambled to dress, smoothed his hair down and rushed out of his tent to find Myrkdaga stood before it, facing the city. The dragon huffed as he smelt Soren, turned around to greet him and paced with the prince towards the north of the camp, which had grown even more since the day before. Men and women in a hive of activity paused with various expressions of astonishment at the prince and the dragon walking through the camp; a murmur followed them as they went.
A crowd of people stood behind the prince as he emerged at the edge of the camp. Fifty feet away a nervous rider stood, the horse’s anxious prancing mimicking its rider’s discomfort. He had good reason to be nervous. Several men had openly drawn swords and arrows already to the string on bows held ready to be drawn.
“Speak your business, rider,” stated the prince. The rider briefly regarded him, but did not dare keep his eyes off the glittering black dragon crouched beside Soren. The horse had its ears back, the whites of its eyes visible as it too fixed its rolling eyes on the dragon.
“I come under the white banner of parley bearing a message from the council, who rule the city in the King’s stead,” said the man, whose voice belied his youth. Although he wore the crest adopted by Zaki, Soren himself did not recognise the young man.
“The council order your immediate peaceful surrender and that of any armed man with you. You will all be taken into custody and charged appropriately for such treasonous rebellion against his majesty. Should you do so peacefully, the king will show greater leniency and mercy to all those but Prince Soren. The Lady Irumae will also be shown greater mercy if you comply, Prince Soren.”
He was jeered at then by those behind Soren and struggled to continue. Soren had stopped listening. They have my sister. She is alive. His eyes were wide and he was glad none of the men behind him, or the rider in front could see his shock.
“I demand the safe release of my sister before I will so much as consider your requests,” Soren shouted out in desperation. “If you have harmed her...” He left the threat unfinished, but the envoy knew his words were empty as he did.
“You are in no position to demand such things. Should you choose not to comply with the demands laid forth,” the envoy carried on as loudly as he could, “you will unleash the wrath of his majesty who will sweep down upon you with no mercy.
“Every house supporting you will be razed to the ground, with property and land being forfeited to the king. He will execute every man, woman and child of those families for treason. Your life and that of your sister will be forfeit, Prince Soren. You will also consent for your dragons to be restrained so that the king can deal with them as he wishes.”
“His dragons?” Myrkdaga rumbled with anger. “We are no dumb beasts to be possessed, you insolent rat!”
The rider’s horse squealed, an ear piercing sound, and bolted towards the city. Its rider clung on for dear life, as Soren’s men mocked him and cheered Myrkdaga. Myrkdaga’s two clan members dropped from the sky in front of him, as he roared as loud as he could in defiance, joining his voice with their own and creating a din that forced the men behind them to cover their ears and retreat some distance away before the noise was bearable.
Soren stood with his fingers in ears before his allies as he watched the south gate open and close for the horseman. I think he can guess our answer, the prince thought, distracted from thoughts of his sister.
Myrkdaga was quite literally fuming with anger; smoky tendrils twisted from his nostrils, as they strode back to Soren’s tent. In the space around it, Behan’s guards cleared the area so that Soren could hold a small, private council with Behan, Edmund and the dragons.
They unanimously decided to reject the surrender and with that formality over with discussed what their course of action should be. Behan and Edmund supported a swift attack with the element of surprise, and marching up through the city, which as yet appeared to be barely fortified; the majority of men barricaded in the castle according to the hourly reports from informants within the city. The dragons supported this, much more in favour of action than inaction.
Myrkdaga, riled still by the envoy, wanted to fly with his brethren over Pandora castle and set it aflame to rid them of their enemy, however Edmund, Soren and Behan protested against this, calling it needless destruction. Soren dithered over what to do; he was torn between supporting the strategically effective sudden attack suggested by Behan, but did not want to do anything that might cause his sister to come to harm.
Eve
The din was overwhelming – a roaring sound they could not identify. It broke over the camp startling Eve and her companions with various exclamations. Nolwen sprinted off in the direction of the sound.
“Where’s he going?” said Eve, confused.
“To find out what that noise is,” said Nelda, her eyes narrowed as she watched him leave.
“Hmm,” replied Nelda noncommittally. “We should pack.” Nolwen soon returned, crashing through the trees, his face flushed and his eyes alight.
“The dragons are here!” he crowed to his sister in the old tongue, who replied with exclamations and questions in the same language.
“What?” Eve exclaimed, open-mouthed. “It cannot be!”
Luke and Irumae burst out in a babble of enquiries, for they had not understood Nolwen’s words.
“The dragons are here, he said,” Eve relayed to them, distracted as she tried to listen to their fast-paced exchange. “What does this mean Nolwen?”
Nolwen related what he had seen in the common tongue; a great camp outside the city and three dragons at its centre by a large tent. His companions plied him with questions about what it could be. It was Nelda who answered.
“Take out your mirror, Eve. Scry the prince and I think you shall have your answer.”
Eve did as Nelda bid her to and the mirror revealed an astonishing sight. In the company of men and dragons was her cousin. Irumae cried out, and fingered her brother’s image on the mirror as if by doing so she could touch him.
“We must go to him at once!” Irumae said.
“Could it be a trap?” asked Luke, his brow furrowed with mingled confusion and suspicion.
“It is unlikely. Dragons are cunning. They are not creatures to be tricked,” replied Nolwen.
“Are they on our side?” Luke said.
“Undoubtedly. I believe Lady Eve will know I speak the truth?” Nolwen raised an eyebrow at Eve.
“The pact?” she guessed in the old tongue, knowing it to be a secret she should not reveal.
Nolwen nodded, grinning.
“I believe Nolwen to speak the truth,” Eve said with a little shrug to Luke, who didn’t look any less confused.
“It seems counter-productive to return from where we’ve just fled,” he muttered, not convinced, but the opinions of his companions outnumbered his in number and rank, giving him no choice but to agree.
They rode to the eastern edge of the forest through the thinning trees and were greeted by the sight of the camp outside the city, nearer to the forest than they had realised. The camp thrummed with life. Men and women went back and forth on their business. Randomly picketed horses stood chewing grass and straw, whilst armoured men wandered about.
Eve rode first with her arms clasped around Irumae who sat in front of her on the saddle. Behind them rode the Eldarkind, now undisguised and followed by Luke. They were worn and dirty, but Eve hoped they would be able to gain entrance with Irumae.
Guards exclaimed as they broke the cover of the forest, rushed towards them with weapons drawn ready and called for them to halt. Irumae stood up in the saddle, half supported by Eve as they drew near.
“Lay down your weapons,” she said with an authority that did not match the stature of a girl of twelve. However, as her face became visible to the men, they dropped to the floor and bowed, lowering their weapons and murmuring greetings to her.
More and more people approached and cheered when they recognised the princess; her absence in the capital had been notable and many had feared for her life. The din soon brought more attention as they made their way into the camp. Around the corner of a tent, Prince Soren himself ran towards them, his eyes glittering with hope at the news of his sister’s arrival, which had spread like wildfire to him, despite being in a private meeting.
Irumae threw herself down from the horse and rushed to embrace him with tears flowing down her face. He picked her up in his arms and swung her around before setting her down and kissing her on both cheeks.
“Dear sister, I have missed you so! I cannot believe I see you before my very eyes!” Soren’s smile could not widen any more across his face as he hugged his sister close once more. “How on earth did you come to be here?” he asked incredulously, still clasping her hands. Eve smiled at the sight, Soren’s joy infectious.
Irumae turned and gazed at her companions, who had dismounted behind her. Soren followed her glance. His expression caught when he beheld her strange company, recognising Eve under the grime and in her masculine clothing.
“Cousin Eve?” he said, incredulous. Eve guessed that he was trying to reconcile the grubby young woman in men’s pants before him with the polished and lady-like image that he had last seen at the royal court.
“Your Majesty,” Eve replied. She dipped her head, conscious of the strangers surrounding her; their attention and crowding presence stifled her after so long in relative isolation.
Soren caught the undertone implied by her formal greeting and swept his eyes around the crowd gathered by them. “Come sister, cousin and your companions to my pavilion.”
Soren led the way back to his pavilion, flanked by guards. At the base of the hill, in the wide, open area kept clear of other tents, waited the dragons, Behan and Edmund, in heated discussion. Guards held at bay the gathered crowds, far enough away to allow some privacy. Behan and Edmund froze, mid-sentence, as Soren strode back into the open space, followed by the rabble of strangers and horses.
Silence reigned for a moment and then chaos erupted. Behan and Edmund greeted Soren and his sister with delight, welcoming her and expressing their joy at her safety and good health.
Nolwen and Nelda bounded into the grassy knoll to greet the dragons in the old tongue with delight and offer them strange bows that were mirrored by the dragons themselves; bowing as low as they could and then, rising back up and arching their heads backwards to offer their necks to each other. Eve entered the space with Luke close in tow, making a mental note to ask Nolwen or Nelda the significance of this, but before she could take in anything else, a thunderous voice broke over her head.
“Eve!” Edmund’s eyebrows and the corners of his mouth slanted dangerously low as she froze and regarded him like a rabbit caught in a hunter’s gaze. He stormed over. “What in the blazes are you doing here?” he hissed so just she could hear.
“I came to rescue the princess,” Eve said as bravely as she could. She stood tall and tried to appear more confident than she felt, faced by Edmund’s wrath. Edmund frowned and glanced at Irumae, who stood huddled under her brother’s protective arm as he and Behan spoke.
“Be that as it may,” he said, seemingly put off by the unexpected answer, “you were supposed to return at once to your father after your visit to Ednor and promised to me that you would do so.”
“I promised to you that I would neither follow you nor seek out Soren.” She dared to correct him. “I am old enough to make my own choices and I felt strongly about my cousin’s plight.
“I felt she needed my help and look – I and my companions managed to secure her release from the castle, which wasn’t without its risks and dangers. If there’s to be an issue, let it be between my father and myself. I know I’ll have to answer to him.”
“I do not wish there to be enmity between us, Eve,” sighed Edmund, “I shall not pretend to be satisfied with your choices. Nevertheless, I am glad you are well and that Irumae is once more safely with us. It will help our position having her here.” He enquired as to how they had managed to rescue her, but at that moment Soren called them over to introduce his companions and for Eve to introduce hers.
Nolwen and Nelda seemed at home with the dragons but Eve felt more hesitant and she could tell that Luke was resisting the urge to draw his sword from the way he kept tapping his fingers upon its hilt. She had heard of the dragons from Artora and her Eldarkind kin; the tales did nothing to convey their impressiveness and imposing presence. She admired them with wide eyed and managed a steady curtsy and greeting in the old tongue after prompting from Nelda with a slight squeak to her voice.
Soren allowed everyone save Luke and Irumae to sit in on the council; he was of too low a rank and she too young. Eve looked apologetically at L
uke as a guard chivvied him away, but he regarded her with an indecipherable expression before turning away. The dragons crowded in around them, forming an impenetrable barrier to the outside world and the meet re-convened with its extra guests in a circle on the grass.
Soren
Eve recounted her journey from Arlyn to Ednor, explaining some of her stay there and continuing with a summary of their journey from Ednor to Pandora before reaching the part of her story that Soren and his companions had been waiting for. In halting tones, she explained how they had rescued Irumae, though she omitted the fight with the dungeon guards in detail. Finally, Nelda picked up the tale of Irumae’s recovery, stressing that she was fully healed and would suffer no ill effects from her captivity or drugging. She finished with the moment that reunited brother and sister.
“You surprise me, cousin,” said Soren to Eve, his voice coloured with respect. “I cannot say how much I thank you and your companions for rescuing my sister. I find myself on the brink of warring with my own people and having her in my possession makes my position much more straightforward.”
Soren briefly explained the current state of play for their benefit before returning to his earlier discussion. The decision of what course of action to take seemed far simpler now that Irumae’s fate had been determined, but there were still issues to account for.
“He has no personal leverage to use against you,” said Behan, “so our advantage would be in the surprise attack. We should sweep through the city and press them back into the castle. If we can contain them there it will be easier than them holding the city.”
“And if they should run, through the royal dock for example?” replied Soren.
“Not many would chance it, fewer should make it and I dare say it; good riddance to the dogs, for there will be less for us to deal with.” Behan slapped the grass in front of him to emphasise his point.
“Are we not opening ourselves up to a vulnerable position in the city, though? The people of Pandora will surround us. Many have joined my cause, but there are still a significant number of people left in the city. What of their intentions?”