Complete In the Service of Dragons

by William Robert Stanek

  He told them where the others waited, and they made a quick exit. A silence fell. Speech was not necessary as long as they had survived.

  Calyin was filled with emotion as she and Midori met. The two sisters felt closer to each other now than they had since childhood. The exchange of emotions between them in these moments would bind them for life.

  Fearing discovery, especially if anyone else had glimpsed their movements, they departed. Captain Brodst knew the obscure corridors of the palace as well as the two sisters, so he took charge. He conducted them to the far end of the upper level, coming upon a set of stairs that led to the rear armory.

  As they descended the stairs reaching the final landing, Captain Brodst met a pair of cold, bitter eyes. The sword guarded in the hands spoke volumes to him as his life passed before his eyes. A single, monosyllabic word escaped his lips before he drew his sword. “Why?” he asked.

  “I wanted to see the light leave your eyes as your world collapsed beneath you as it did from my mother’s.”

  “But I loved your mother with all my heart. It was not my fault.”

  “Oh, yes it was.”

  “You are no son of mine.”

  “Then am I the bastard you fostered with the regal whore?”

  “Step aside, for I could not kill you. To wallow in your charity would suffice my honor.”

  “You will not find escape!” cried Pyetr as his sword fell from his grasp.

  The captain looked clear into Pyetr’s eyes as he slumped, pained, against the wall. He lowered his eyes with shame and stepped passed him. The others behind him said nothing as they, too, passed by. Lord Serant stayed the call for blood that desired to move his trembling hand. He also understood that sometimes to live was a greater transgression than offering oneself to die. Pyetr would take his own life and pay his atonement in full.

  Their retreat was short, for none knew where to go or what to do next; and as they reached a place they thought secure, at least for the moment, they began to argue and tempers flared. Calyin and Midori soon separated themselves from the other three, who ceaselessly debated without gaining ground.

  “I will go nowhere; Imtal is where I belong,” said Captain Brodst obstinately.

  “You must! Can you not see that the city has fallen?”

  “Lord Serant, something has clouded your wisdom. You cannot believe the words you are saying. The capital is far from doomed; if we fight, we will most assuredly win it back.”

  “Think, man! You know what has occurred. Do not let your pity blind your vision. We cannot wait here much longer.”

  “Lord Serant is correct,” interrupted Geoffrey. “If we hope to escape, it must be soon. We do not have time to waste. I say we go to Solntse and return to Imtal with the garrison troops. My men cannot have deserted, nor can the garrison troops here from Imtal be very far off. They must have been sent somewhere. By my hand I will have the traitors swinging if I discover any—begging your pardon, of course, Captain Brodst. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “It was due me and I take no offense, but I could no more kill my own flesh and blood than I could kill a loyal servant. I believe time repays all those who are untrue. All the same, I still think we should stay here.”

  Calyin and Midori were conversing separately from the others. Calyin was telling Midori in great detail the words of their mystic visitors and Midori was listening with very earnest ears; something in the message caught her interest. Midori held her thoughts until Calyin had told her everything she could recall.

  “I know the place,” announced Midori as Calyin finished. She stopped and then mumbled something Calyin thought was, “Towards the rain. Interesting.” Midori stepped between Lord Serant and Geoffrey to move towards the window. She had been listening also to the words of the three men behind her as she had been following Calyin’s story. “Solntse, it is,” she said, agreeing with Geoffrey.

  Captain Brodst was quick to cut Midori off from further speech as he turned back to Geoffrey asking, “What are you saying?”

  “Yes, what are you saying?” asked Lord Serant.

  Geoffrey didn’t respond; he liked the additional vote for Solntse and wasn’t going to say anything either to add to or detract from Midori’s statement. “Toward the rain,” repeated Midori, and she pointed to the eastern sky, which was dark with heavy rains in the distance. “East is where we need to go. Solntse is east, so we will hopefully appease two of you. But what do you say, Captain Brodst?”

  “Do you honestly wish to leave? I cannot believe what I am hearing from you, Midori.”

  “My good captain,” returned Midori, “I believe what I have heard, and I think if we put our heads together we will find that the riddles are quite easily solved.”

  “She is right,” said Calyin.

  “We do waste time here, do we not?”

  “Yes, but we must first find a way out of the city.”

  “We have only to try.”

  Chapter Ten

  Valam, Seth, and Teren moved through the deserted camp wondering where everyone had gone. They searched through tent after tent only to find them empty, abandoned. Glumly they proceeded towards the center of the camp, reaching the command tent last.

  Valam dismounted, he hoped, for the last time. As he cast the flap widely aside, it caught the wind and pushed back at him. He clipped it with his arm and entered. The tent was empty like all the others, save for a chest in the center.

  He dropped to his knees and opened the chest. Its only content was a plainly bound book, a ledger of sorts, guessed Valam. Rapidly, he scanned the first two pages, gathering from this that it was a journal, Father Jacob’s journal. He quickly turned through the pages of the chronicle, skipping to the last page.

  Confused, he turned back several pages and started reading again. “What did he mean, ‘Martin is gone and I am alone’,” thought Valam. He read forward again, closing the book as his eyes fell upon the last word. Valam dropped the book on the ground, running from the tent, “Captain Mikhal, where are the ships? Are they near?”

  “Just south,” he replied distantly, “about a half hour’s ride along the coa—” The captain stopped mid-sentence. “They didn’t?”

  “I am not sure. Come!” Valam shouted as he mounted, spurring his horse frantically, “Let’s find out!”

  Valam instructed most to wait in the camp until he and the captain returned, but a handful followed the two as they raced southward. Valam shouted to the wind, “No, Jacob, don’t leave!” to which Seth returned, “I don’t believe even my thoughts could reach him, my friend.”

  “Is he already gone then?”

  “I don’t know. We are too distant. As we draw closer, I will try.”

  Tsandra followed close behind Teren and the others; she was not going to be left behind. Captain Mikhal spurred his horse to the lead, as he knew the way best. Ahead of them lay low-lying hills, mostly a series of short inclines and declines that occurred only along the coast.

  The shore they rode along reached out into the sea via an outcropping of rocky crags. As they rode, the shoreline changed, weaving back and forth from rocky outcroppings to straight-line earthen bluffs, which the water was slowly eroding away. In the distance, as the captain promised, lay a sandy-beached inlet, where the ships should be waiting.

  Seth reached out with his thoughts, trying to reach a consciousness that could understand his words. At first he just called out with a name, and then a simple message, “Wait!” hoping the strength of his will could breach the distance. He retreated his will when he perceived that nothing lay ahead of them. He hoped it was just that he could not reach whoever was out there yet.

  Teren veered right suddenly as if struck, coming to an abrupt halt. He thought he felt a tug of a consciousness upon his mind, but the voice he heard could not be here; it did not belong to the plains. Teren turned back to the path and began again, casting off the thoughts.

  Seth and Tsandra also felt the voice touch their farseeing mi
nds, but only Seth returned the call. Nothing returned to him as he reached out, and he rode on in silence. Tsandra whispered to his mind that perhaps they had all been mistaken, which Seth accepted.

  The snows had barely touched the coastal areas, but a thin layer of it still clung to the frosted ground, and not far away it lay in deep mounds. They rode as those possessed, knowing their travel-weary animals wished to rest. Other thoughts pervaded the riders’ minds; they were also weary and did not have time to waste.

  As they approached the inlet, which was still a good clip away, the tip of a mast seemed to protrude above the line where the shore appeared to join the sea. Seth reached out again with his mind and perceived a presence. “Wait! Do not go!” he yelled outward.

  Valam released a sigh of hope. He hoped what he had read in the last pages of the book were not true. He did not understand everything he had read, but he hoped the closing was false. In his mind he pictured the last page, and slowly his eyes led him to the last paragraph, which he re-read again in his mind. “By the time you read this, we will have returned to the kingdom, our home; do not hold ill feelings toward us for we waited as long as we could endure, and this the last I write in honor of Prince Valam, who, among others, gave his life for your lands. Say a prayer for him so that he may rest in peace.”

  Father Jacob had always been long-winded, thought Valam as he returned from his reverie. As was Keeper Martin, he added a moment later. His thoughts soared as the white of a sail grew before his eyes. Indeed, it was only a small tip, but it was a sail, he was sure.

  As they drew nearer to the curve of the coast which led into the inlet, it became readily apparent that many ships floated in the small harbor, not just one. In their thoughts, they sang for joy; it was a beautiful sight. Seth called out again, in thought, and told them who they were, and why they had come. He registered great surprise in many of the minds he touched, and one almost collapsed with shock upon hearing the sound of his voice.

  Those on the flagship sent out a message to the other ships, which had also heard Seth’s message, and were already commencing the orders to lower their sails and weigh anchors. A longboat launched from the lead and made for shore and was soon followed by a second one from a different ship.

  “Brother Liyan, no, you must leave,” directed a voice into Liyan’s mind alone.

  “We cannot.”

  “They must not see him.”

  “It is too late.”

  As the group was ferried out to the flagship, a single rider faded into the distance. Valam sighed as the waves sent a calm sweeping through him. He thought perhaps Cagan should have come with them; he would have enjoyed the ride immensely. Later, as an afterthought, a shudder ran down his spine as he watched in thought as a boat sank into dark churning waters.

  The trek from shore to the ship was short, and soon the oarsmen were maneuvering the longboat gracefully along the port side of the waiting vessel. Valam accepted the outstretched hand as he stepped up to the deck, taking in with a single glance the whole of the ship from aft to stern as he did so. He was greeted with surprise and disbelief, and certain awe intermingled with relief and thanks.

  “By the Father!” exclaimed Father Jacob. “We had given up hope of supplies ever reaching us and behold what they return with!”

  Father Jacob hesitated as he reached out for Valam, a hint of doubt touching his lips. “I am real!” replied Valam. “Believe it!”

  “I do, but for so long I have thought you had passed.”

  “No such luck, I am afraid.”

  Valam’s reply brought a smile to the father’s deeply worried face. “You must tell me everything! Don’t forget anything! But wait—wait until later,” said Jacob as Valam began to speak. “First things first. The supplies?”

  “Yes, Father Jacob, the supplies are here although for a time we thought you weren’t.”

  “I am sorry. I lost my faith, but it was only momentary,” said Father Jacob. As he talked with Valam, the embedded lines in his face seemed to lighten and the weariness of his soul began to disappear. So much had been heavy on his mind lately. It was a great relief, a breath of fresh air, to see Valam’s face flourishing with color, with life.

  “How long will it take to unload these boats and return to camp?”

  “Not very long at all,” said Father Jacob, winking, “we have only men and horses aboard and few supplies. You will be surprised how fast they unload when the word is spread that Prince Valam, or should I say King Valam, has returned.”

  Father Jacob bit back any further words. His tongue had slipped; he had said too much. The fatigue had not so easily left him as he had thought; his mind was still not as sharp as it ought to be. Father Jacob hoped that perhaps Valam had not understood his words, but his looks gave everything away to Valam. Any sense of happiness left Valam’s face as he realized the import of Father Jacob’s words.

  “When? How? How long have you known?” pleaded Valam, retaining his composure, but stuttering over his words.

  “I do not know for sure,” began Father Jacob, choosing his words very tactfully, “perhaps—no, not perhaps. Prince Valam, I am very sure. Come, we should withdraw to my cabin for a time.”

  Father Jacob was quick to note who was close at hand and could also have overheard their conversation. He was glad to note only Captain Mikhal, to whom he offered a glum smile as a greeting, and Brother Seth, whom he indicated should follow. They were the only ones close enough to have overheard this conversation. The others behind them, none of whom Father Jacob knew, were told politely to wait. Tsandra was the only one who was offended.

  “Why did you not return to the kingdom at once!” demanded Valam.

  Father Jacob looked hurt and did not reply. He was attempting to gather his wits before he opened his mouth and said anything further. Valam mistook the silence as another opening to lash out, which he did harshly.

  Father Jacob quietly spoke the words that he would have preferred never to repeat. Quickly and precisely he brought Valam up-to-date. Father Jacob’s account was very well spoken, which was a big surprise, mostly to himself, because of the confusion in his thoughts.

  Valam was slow to respond as Jacob finished, and Jacob had not expected, nor wanted Valam to reply to his words. Nevertheless, Valam spoke. Sorrow overshadowed his words, which would hang heavy on all who were present for a long time to come. After he finished, Valam returned above decks; there was too much to be done to allow a delay to mull over past events.

  Shortly after Valam left, Captain Mikhal knocked on the cabin door and entered. The captain remained very official as he walked in and announced that the flagman was already sending orders to the other ships. By his estimate, if they hurried, the camp, which included the new arrivals and many supplies, could be fully organized by nightfall.

  Seth stopped Father Jacob, who was about to leave the room, after Captain Mikhal departed. Seth understood much more than Jacob did about Valam’s current situation; a number of pressing matters were on Valam’s shoulders already and Seth also knew enough about Jacob to say the right words to calm him. “It was not your fault, Father Jacob. You said the right things. He will accept it. Give him some time. I felt the things he did not say.”

  “You, Brother Seth, are a very wise man,” said Father Jacob, as the despair began to leave his eyes.

  “Yes, but I know another wiser,” replied Seth. “Come, I have someone I would really like to introduce you to. I think you and he will have a lot in common.”

  Seth introduced Father Jacob to Teren, Tsandra, and lastly Liyan. He was right—Liyan and Father Jacob were very much alike. He could feel questions bubbling through the father’s mind as the three talked. Momentarily, Seth’s thoughts roamed to Valam, who had gone to the bow of the ship where only the wind in his face was a companion.

  Valam stayed there for a long time watching the waves roll into the ship and feeling the swaying of the boat beneath his feet. He contemplated numerous things before he finally
rejoined his friends, but most importantly he said a few long overdue words to someone who was gone. Afterwards he felt much the better for saying those words.

  Chapter Eleven

  High, fortified walls of stone rose before them, looming greater with each step. Even on their horses, the travelers looked minuscule compared to the heights of the peaks; the mighty oaks even paled in comparison. Their minds were filled with wonder, even though some had seen the guarded fortress before.

  Noman reminded them that it was more an outcropping of rock, a mountain, than a man-made structure, but awe still marked their expressions as they passed within the city gates. The only requirement for passage was a token, an offering that spoke more even than gold to those who dwelled within the city’s walls. All had readily given up their armaments without a word of protest. Most had heard rumors of the penalty for not doing so, and Noman ensured that they heard them again as fact, so when they were requested to relinquish their arms, they did so quickly out of fear more than anything else.