When Dragons Rage

by Michael A. Stackpole

  Alyx forced herself to keep a sympathetic expression on her face. She wanted to smile broadly because Will’s angst was achingly innocent and funny, but to him it was anything but. “No reason you wouldn’t like it, Will.”

  He nodded. “Okay, then on the ride to Caledo we talked more, and that was good, but then when we got here, well . . .” Will’s expression got solemn and he grabbed her right hand. “You have to promise me you won’t say anything, you have to promise.”

  “I promise.”

  “Okay, okay. So when we got here Sayce came to me. In my room, and she stayed with me. And she did that the next night and even last night. And, and . . . I think she loves me and I like her fine, but, I don’t love her, and I think she thinks I love her and when I have to go away . . .” His voice shrank to a squeak. “I don’t know, I don’t know.”

  Alexia felt ice sluice through her midsection. She and Crow had spent the nights in Caledo together and had bravely acknowledged that their being apart was necessitated by circumstances. Each had fingered their rings, cherishing the link that gave them to each other. They remembered the pledge to avenge the other’s death, but both felt confident that they would never have to do so.

  The hopelessness in Will’s voice just ripped open the sack of all the emotions she’d been tucking away. Fear of losing Crow, of never seeing him again, pounded her. Fear of his dying in pain, of her dying without seeing him, without having the comfort of his arms, lashed her. Just the sense of emptiness transferred from a cold, lonely bed into her heart made her gasp.

  Will looked up. “What’s wrong? What did I do?”

  “Nothing, Will, nothing.” She gave him a brave smile. “Is what you are asking, ‘What do I say to Sayce when we part?’ ”

  He nodded. “You have to help me.” He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “All the songs only deal with true love, where they can’t bear to be apart and where you know they’ll be reunited, or one of them will die really, really horribly and the other will die of a broken heart, or forever love the other until they’re reunited in some other life or something like that. But, as for my situation . . . Nothing.”

  “Your situation is too real to make for a good song.”

  His hands came away and he stared at her. “Took me hours staring at the ceiling last night to figure that one out.”

  “I’m not helping, I know.” She drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “If you think she’s really in love with you, wait . . . Are you sure you’re not in love with her?”

  “Well, according to the songs . . .”

  “Forget the songs. What do you feel inside?”

  He shook his head. “I’m all confused. I mean, I was confused about Chytrine and being the Norrington and everything, but by comparison, I’ve got that all figured out clean. Do you love Crow? How do you know? What do you feel?”

  Alyx started to answer, but words froze on her tongue. A host of emotions tightened her throat, but brought with it a smile that sparked the hint of one on Will’s face. “I feel everything, Will. Mostly, I guess, I feel as if he’s the answer to questions I never knew to ask. Wants and needs I didn’t know I had, he fulfills. He’s as vital to me as the air or wine or food.”

  The thief smiled. “Now that is the kind of stuff mentioned in the songs.”

  “But not what you feel for Sayce?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. I mean, I like her. She is my friend and I like being around her. I’ll miss her and everything, but . . .”

  Alyx nodded. “Any chance you will come to love her? The songs talk about folks growing into it, as I recall.”

  “Yeah. I don’t know. Maybe.” He shrugged. “That’s what makes it difficult, don’t you see? She loves me, and if I say I don’t love her, I break her heart and then if I do love her . . . But she shouldn’t be loving me. Sometimes I don’t think it’s me she loves, but the Norrington. She loves the guy who saved her, who will save her nation. She sees a me that I don’t know is me, you know?”

  The princess smiled softly at him. “I know. When I meet my people, the Okrans exiles, they look at me that same sort of way. They expect much, learn to love their vision of the person who will fulfill their expectations. That’s not me, but trying to change their minds would be impossible.”

  “So, you’re saying that there’s nothing I can tell her?”

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying.” Alyx frowned. “What I’m saying is this: you and Sayce are each going to be heading out on very dangerous missions. There is no guarantee that either of you, or Crow or I, will survive. Times like these, we all need our friends. If she loves you, and if you could learn to love her, letting her think you love her isn’t bad. There will be enough pain out there for all of us that we don’t need to be creating more.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I should lie?”

  “You ask that question with a lot more ease than makes me comfortable, Will.”

  “Well, in the Dimandowns, truth was kind of squishy. Lying was just self-preservation.”

  “No, I don’t think you should lie, but I don’t think you need to close any doors. It could very well be that if we are successful . . .”

  “When we are successful.”

  “When, yes, when we are successful, you could come back to that lake she gave you and raise a brood of children and live happily ever after.”

  Will grinned. “I like the idea of being the King of Oriosa better.”

  “I’d rather have you on that throne, too.”

  “But I guess what you’re saying makes sense. If I die out there, or she dies out there, there’s no harm in being loved or thinking you’re loved. Might make things a bit easier.”

  “Hey.” She leaned forward and caught a handful of his tunic. “No dying out there. Not you, not Crow, not Resolute, not any of you.”

  Will grinned broadly. “Okay, so no dying with you or Sayce or Kerrigan or Peri, right? Deal?”

  “Deal.” Alyx gave him a wink. “You’ll need to figure out what to say to her and when.”

  “I know. I’ll work on that.”

  “In the middle of the night?”

  “Probably.” He stood, then abruptly leaned down and kissed her on the top of the head. “Thank you.”

  Alyx stood and gathered Will into a hug. “Glad to be of help. Don’t want you preoccupied when you’re supposed to be out there stopping the supply of firedirt that’s going to be used against me.”

  “Just make sure you don’t let them get to my castle on the lake, okay?” He freed himself from her embrace, then shot her a quick salute. “If you need to use it, though, feel free.”

  “Good luck, Will.”

  The young thief shook his head. “Save the luck for yourself. I’m the Norrington, remember? I don’t require anything more than that.”

  CHAPTER 51

  T he dawn came cold and clear the morning the northern raiding force was to set out. Will, standing on a South Tower balcony overlooking the palace courtyard, shivered beneath the thick hide robe he wore, but he knew it wasn’t because of the cold. Out beyond the city walls the white plains stretched on to the north forever, and nothing seemed to be moving out there. The landscape looked sterile, and the idea that anything could survive the trek north seemed impossible.

  He knew it wasn’t true—both that nothing was moving and that nothing could survive. According to the reports from Murosan scouts, the Aurolani force had decamped from Porjal and were heading south toward Caledo. The refugees from Porjal had headed west to the coastal city of Navval and would be sent farther along the coast until they came to Paloso, the city near Lake Eori. Will didn’t know if that choice had been made as an omen, or just because the next stop would be Saporicia and, with any luck, an escape from danger.

  They run from it while we ride into it. Will shook his head, then smiled and nodded at a couple of the Freemen in the courtyard below who were preparing their horses. At his headshake they had begun to double-check wha
t they were doing, assuming he was signaling displeasure. Once he nodded, they smiled and went back to work.

  The Freemen, who comprised a legion drawn from Murosan refugees and Oriosan volunteers, were one of three units that would be in the northern force. To them were added a legion of Murosan Lancers—the Queen’s Own Guards, whose chosen uniform was white with slashed red sleeves. Originally these two groups, comprising two hundred warriors, along with members of the Crown Company, as the princess’ allies had become known, were all who were going to head north. While all of the warriors were skilled or enthusiastic, that didn’t shield them from reality. Their mission would be very dangerous and would very likely get them all killed.

  The odds improved slightly when a company of meckanshii rode into Caledo the afternoon of the day Will had spoken to Princess Alexia. Colonel Sallitt Hawkins led them, and all of them came equipped with draconettes. The colonel had spoken with King Bowmar, and it was explained to Will that these warriors were intent upon returning to Fortress Draconis or, barring that, “causing maximum discomfort to the enemy.”

  Nominally they were just traveling in conjunction with the task force, but Colonel Hawkins immediately began coordinating with Wheatly, integrating his supplies with those for the rest of the task force. Oddly enough, Lindenmere evidenced some skill for getting the supplies ordered and stowed—and likewise estimating how much of what would be needed for the campaign. North helped him with the lifting and toting, and a true affection for Lindenmere seemed to have grown up between the other Freemen and him.

  And Lindenmere has become a bit harder and leaner, as has Kerrigan. Will watched the magicker move through the courtyard. He still had that gawky, awed look on his face that he always wore, but he stood a bit taller and had shrunk a bit around the middle. That wasn’t to suggest he was even close to cutting the sort of figure that Dranae did, but in Kerrigan one could almost see someone who could be taken for Dranae’s younger brother or cousin.

  “What are you thinking, Lord Norrington?”

  Sayce’s question surprised him, primarily because she’d managed to sneak up on him. He turned slowly and smiled for her, which brightened her face and made his guts flip-flop. “I was thinking how much the war changes people, and how much they’re likely to be changed. Lindenmere probably never did a bit of hard work in his life, but he’s down there working now, and not shrinking from it. And Kerrigan, he’s changing.”

  “And you?”

  Will closed his eyes and nodded. “Not even a year ago I was slumkin, stealing anything I could lift and getting regular beatings from my master and my enemies. My world was a place maybe six blocks long and wide, and if you’d asked me then if I’d ever leave it, I’d have said no. And now, here I am, far north, volunteering for something that might get me killed, and certainly will get me hurt. Definitely true of those down below.”

  His eyes opened as Sayce approached. Up to that point she had hidden any public signs of affection for him, but with less than an hour before he’d ride away, she was throwing caution to the winds. She reached out and slid her hand over his shoulder.

  “I’ve changed, too, Will.”

  “I know.”

  Sayce smiled and gave Will a look that he knew would haunt dreams and warm him on cold nights. “How do you think I have changed?”

  He looked her straight in the eye, then gave her a wry grin. “You were raised as royalty, but young enough that you knew you’d never have to accept responsibility. You realized that you were not exempt from the duties of your blood, so you accepted them and have done your utmost to fulfill them.”

  Sayce’s face froze for a moment, then she looked down. “You read me very well, Lord Norrington.”

  “You’re not easy to read, Princess; I just know the story well and recognize it.” His gloved right hand emerged from beneath the heavy cloak. He took her chin between thumb and forefinger and lifted her head until she looked him in the eye again. “These are extraordinary times and require extraordinary measures from all of us. Doing what we must is something in which we can take pride and even joy.”

  “Yes, exactly. I . . .”

  Will pressed his thumb to her lips to silence her. “Sayce, you will be going with Princess Alexia and fighting to delay those on their way here. I will be going north. Neither of us knows what the future will bring. Out there we could be killed, which would be bad. Worse, we could be broken. Maybe they will make us into meckanshii, maybe not. We could be captured and tortured. We might even be made over into sullanciri.”

  She blinked at him and tears began to gather in her eyes, but did not yet flow. “What are you saying, Will?”

  Again he smiled for her. “What I am saying, Princess, is that our futures are uncertain, but our past, the time we have spent here—the time spent here together—it will be eternal. It can’t be taken away from us. We don’t know if we will ever be able to stand together like this—if after what we will go through, we would even recognize ourselves as the people who stood here—but we have. I won’t forget. I can’t. I don’t want to. What I remember will be a great comfort in the coming days.”

  Sayce stepped closer and enfolded him in a hug. She pressed her right cheek to his, and he felt the burn of a tear. His arms went around her and he held her tightly. That surprised him, because while he knew he didn’t love her, he didn’t want to let her go. Not just yet.

  So he held on to her and she clung to him. And, just for a little while, the horror of the future was held at bay.

  Through the stable doorway Alexia could see Will and Sayce on the balcony. She watched them embrace and wished she could have heard what Will said. If he was able to order his emotions, then something in what he said would help me order mine.

  She’d given some thought to what she wanted to say to Crow on their parting, but that was only in the little snatches of time they were apart. They’d conspired to minimize them, to their mutual delight, but there were times when duty called them one from another. Just that morning she had been off listening to the latest reports from the north and had agreed to meet him in the stable, but Crow had been delayed.

  “Princess Alexia, begging your pardon, but I would appreciate a favor.”

  She turned and the smile growing on her face slowed. She had recognized the voice in pieces. First she linked it to Crow, then realized who had spoken. “Colonel Hawkins, what may I do for you?”

  The meckanshii, swathed in thick furs and wearing a mitten on his left hand, lowered his eyes. The silver of the mail used to replace the flesh of his face glittered around the right edge of his black mask. “I would ask you to introduce me to your husband.”

  “But . . .” She hesitated. “You already know him.”

  “That is not why I ask, Highness.”

  From behind her Crow spoke. “He asks, my love, because I’ve not spoken with him yet. I’ve refused.”

  Alexia heard pain in Crow’s voice and watched it tighten Sallitt’s expression. She turned to Crow. “Why would you refuse?”

  “Because I have no family outside you and Will and Resolute.” Bitter anger strained Crow’s voice. “All that was taken away from me.”

  Sallitt’s head came up. “And it was taken away from me, too.”

  “You still have your mask. You still have our family.”

  “But not our complete family.” The meckanshii’s metal hand snapped into a fist. “Tarrant, you don’t know how it was.”

  Crow snorted. “It doesn’t take much to figure it out.”

  Alexia gripped Crow’s forearm. “Give him a chance.”

  Crow nodded and the tension flowed out of his forearm.

  Sallitt’s metal hand opened slowly. “After the Okrannel campaign they brought me back to Valsina. That was before the Draconis Baron had figured out how to make meckanshii. I was useless. You’d had your mask stripped away, but for what I didn’t know; and our father forbid us from mentioning your name ever. I knew you weren’t dead and had I been whole, I�
�d have found you.

  “Then the stories started saying you were dead and that you’d killed yourself. I couldn’t believe them, but I couldn’t prove them otherwise. Several years later, long before I ever heard a song of Crow, the Draconis Baron sent for me and made me as I am now. He gave me a purpose. I accepted my position at Fortress Draconis not, as some have said, to redeem our name, but to continue the fight we’d both been part of.”

  Crow said nothing, but a tremor began to run through him.

  Sallitt’s hazel eyes flashed from within his mask. “Some meckanshii suffer what we call ‘metal fatigue.’ We get tired of trying to be human because we so clearly are not. We try to forget who we were because our injuries carry with them a lot of mental pain. I had that, plus the way our father had changed, and the loss of my little brother. I was lucky, though, and met my wife—gods grant Jancis still lives. She brought my human half back, and it’s that human half that makes me seek you, brother. To tell you I’ve never believed what has been said of you.”

  The man who had been Tarrant Hawkins looked up. “But when you were told who I was at Tolsin, you rode away.”

  “I did, yes, because I felt betrayed.” Sallitt’s eyes tightened. “We’d been long on the road together. You’d saved my life and yet you had not trusted me with who you were. Should I have known? You, traveling with Resolute, in the company of a Norrington, it all seems so obvious now, but it wasn’t then. You were Crow, a living legend. Had you been Oriosan, you’d have worn a mask, so I never made the connection. But you knew who I was, and you didn’t trust me. That hurt me and made me doubt.”