Redheart (Leland Dragon Series)

by Jackie Gamber

  Startled, one Green clamped his mouth shut to stare. Kallon wedged his way through, squeezing between scaled shoulders and ribs, heaving this way and that to force openings. “No! No! You are wrong! Our leaders would not want this! My father would never want this!”

  A Gray moved aside to let him reach the platform steps. He climbed them. Whitetail appeared from behind the council members to wave them forward and block his path, but he shouted again. “I have the right to speak!” That captured Blackclaw’s attention, because he swung his gaze over. Council members of green, brown, blue, and ginger exchanged looks. Kallon repeated, “I have the right to speak! I am Kallon Redheart, son of Bren Redheart, grandson of Arin Redheart!”

  Blackclaw glared, gesturing for Whitetail to stop him. When Whitetail pressed forward with an outstretched palm, Council Member Brownwing reached out his own paw to Whitetail’s chest. “He is Kallon Redheart. He has the right to speak.” Whitetail peered pitifully over his shoulder to his leader.

  Kallon realized the crowd had ceased shouting. All eyes were on him once more. He faltered back a step, feeling the weight of those eyes as an oncoming boulder. A rattle of chains roused him, and he turned to find not a boulder, but an oncoming Riza. Her young face was tight, her eyes dark with shadows. With arms pinned behind her back, she ran to him, but was stopped violently short by the wooden post to which she’d been fixed. She nearly toppled over.

  He lunged toward her and caught her in his claws. He steadied her with one paw on each shoulder and lowered his gaze to find her eyes. “Be strong. I’ll fight this.”

  “You see?” said Blackclaw in his now-familiar, rumbling voice. “Before all as witnesses, he consorts with the prisoner! This one who claims the right to speak is a spineless traitor who keeps murderers as friends.” Blackclaw pointed a menacing claw at Orman, who lingered at the side opening of the arena. “And spies as company!”

  Gasps broke out, but Kallon turned from Riza to speak again. “Fellow dragons, I urge you to think. Many of you know Orman Thistleby as a wizard and friend. My own father trusted and protected him, even died in service to him. What purpose would he serve to gather secrets from us?”

  “Bah! I already know all your carnsarned secrets anyway, you fools,” Orman said. He crossed his arms and scowled.

  “You use the word ‘us’ as though you belong here, Redheart,” snorted Blackclaw. “One claim to heritage does not a leader make.”

  Kallon found Armitage’s eyes on him, and for a moment, he was so filled with outrage he nearly forgot himself. He managed to peel his gaze from the man to respond. “I am only here to remind you of the hopes of our leaders. They believed their purpose, our purpose, is to serve, protect, and above all else, honor the ways of peace between Mankind and Dragon.”

  “A sentimental and outdated view!” Blackclaw addressed the crowd once more. “This was a respectful purpose at a time when both sides honored and valued the agreement, but it has long since lost its meaning. Humans do not want our friendship! They want our land, our crystals! They want our extinction!”

  “So we retaliate by causing theirs?” Kallon faced the dragons as well. “Is this what our leaders would have wanted?”

  Blackclaw turned to Kallon, his upper lip snarling. A tuft of blackened smoke escaped across the tip of his tongue and slithered upward. “There is that word ‘we’ again, Red. You are not a part of this community any longer. It was your choice to abandon it. It was I who stepped in to fill the responsibility.” His dusky eyes turned to his citizens. “The Red forgets that I am your leader now! I say we have bowed to tradition for so long that it has broken our backs!” Up went a clenched fist again. “I say no longer! I say our time has come!”

  “Our time has come!” echoed scattered voices.

  “I want my territory back!”

  “I want their territory!”

  Kallon’s chest fluttered in panic. He searched for Orman over the crowd; the wizard only stared back with steady eyes. He looked for Riza, who had drifted to her knees on the platform. Armitage’s chained wrists reached for her, and this time she didn’t even flinch. He looked over his shoulder to Kallon, and slowly drew her in against his bare chest. His chains groaned as he stroked her hair.

  “No!” Kallon cried before he was even conscious of it. “It cannot happen!”

  “It can happen, and it will!” Blackclaw lumbered toward Kallon. “You have had your chance to speak, now go back to your hiding place and stop blundering in things that do not concern you.”

  “No,” Kallon murmured, falling back from the approaching Blackclaw. “Not right. This is not right.” He searched again for Orman, but failed to find him. Armitage kissed Riza’s forehead, and she quietly wept. Blackclaw’s face loomed ever closer, joined by Whitetail’s, and even Brownwing’s. They closed in to run him off the platform. He’d failed again!

  “Kallon.” Kallon looked down to find that Orman had managed to squeeze through the throng and now stood near his feet. Their eyes met, and in that instant, Kallon’s mind was filled with ancient words. In desperation, he shouted them. “Fordon Blackclaw! Your ways of leadership are not commensurate with the long-held beliefs of your citizens. Your aspirations for their future are counterfeit, and your ambitions are self-seeking. I challenge your post!”

  Chapter Forty-One

  The three approaching dragons halted and exchanged looks. Council members gaped. Mount Gore’s arena went silent.

  Kallon was as surprised as the others. He didn’t even know he remembered the words. What’s more, the challenge wasn’t only a desperate act, he believed in it.

  Blackclaw didn’t take long to recover. He laughed. “Are you serious? How can you possibly think yourself a better leader than I? You do not even know your fellow dragons! How can you know their long-held beliefs?”

  “Nevertheless,” said Hale Brownwing. “The challenge has been issued.”

  “That challenge is as out-dated as the notion of peace, Hale. This whelp thinks he can appear after all this time and challenge a leadership he knows nothing about? That challenge no more applies to him than to a dragon stranger from Esra Province, or from Manent!”

  “I am not a stranger from a distant province, Blackclaw. I am a citizen of Leland,” said Kallon. “And more than that, I am the rightful leader.”

  “Yes. So you say. I have yet to hear one other dragon speak out for you. We do not really know who you are, do we?”

  Brownwing thumped a fist to his chest. “I will speak for him. I know him, even after all this time.” Brown claws gently gripped the back of Kallon’s neck and gave an encouraging squeeze. “I have often thought of you, son. Vaya has never stopped believing this day would come.” He swept his open paw toward the backdrop of seated council members. “Most of us served beneath your father. I am not the only one who remembers you.” Colorful dragon heads nodded.

  Kallon lowered his chin. “Thank you.” He looked at Blackclaw, whose face swelled and darkened so that Kallon thought it might pop like a ripe blackberry. Blackclaw’s eyes swirled with something vicious, but when he spoke, he sounded perfectly rational.

  “Brownwing, it sounds as though you have already given this Red your vote. That could be considered inappropriate, but never mind. If you insist on playing out this little challenge game, so be it. Whitetail, find the particulars in our scrolls, please. I believe there to be something about the challenger having to prove his accusations, and the challenged allowed to issue a quest.” Whitetail turned to descend the platform.

  “I will go with him,” Brownwing offered. Silent onlookers moved aside to let them pass.

  “This challenge ritual is a part of our history, Fordon, and our law. We should not look upon it as a game,” said Shera Yellowfang. “As Herald of the Yellows, I should be happy to step aside and let another serve in my stead if it were to serve a higher purpose for my tribe.”

  “Yes, of course, true words,” said Blackclaw. “And if it were to serve a higher purpose, th
en I would step aside without hesitation. I only remind you, Shera, that this Red is a stranger to our ways.”

  “So if he is not fit to replace you, the ritual will show that. Our laws are not arbitrary. They are precise for exactly the reason you describe.” Yellowfang rose from her place on the council pallet. “The Red will have to prove his accusations, and prove himself. In the meantime, perhaps we should dismiss the meeting, to reconvene later?” She looked out across the shifting crowd. “They need not be a party to all of this drama.”

  Blackclaw narrowed his eyes on Yellowfang. “That would be my decision to make.” He moved beside her and raised his voice. “I, for one, feel the citizens have a right to witness all that pertains to them. I say let them stay, if they so wish it!”

  A ripple of murmurs moved out across the gathering. The atmosphere tightened. Dragons spoke among themselves, but quietly.

  Kallon remembered overhearing many arguments between council members in the manor chambers, but that dissention was strictly kept from public view. Now he understood why. This conflict tested confidence and broke apart the council into individual dragons, forcing the onlookers to choose loyalties. He could see the result on their faces. They didn’t want to choose.

  But no one was watching him, or seemed to even be aware of him, so he slowly made his way sideways to Armitage and Riza and growled, “Get away from her.”

  Armitage glanced up. His jaw clenched. His arms tightened around Riza. “You stinking beasts. You’re all going to die. Every one of you. I only hope I’m still around to watch.”

  “Your words are the buzz of a tiny fly, Armitage. Release Riza. It will be hard enough to convince the others she had nothing to do with this, without your cradling and kissing her like a lover.”

  “You assume we aren’t lovers.”

  “I needn’t assume something I know for certain.”

  “Stop it, both of you,” Riza said, eyes darting to the dragons behind them. She squirmed. “Jastin, let me go. Kallon’s right.”

  Armitage let her go. He gave her a push, and she bobbled and fell. “You smell like one of them, anyway,” he said. “Even after a bath. Even wearing my tunic. You smell more dragon than woman.”

  Kallon helped Riza to her feet and she pressed against his chest. “I don’t understand what’s being said,” she whispered, turning up her face to him. “But I know about your dragon friend. You know I didn’t have anything to do with that. I never wanted to go with Jastin.”

  “I know, Riza. Jastin knows. I think even Blackclaw knows, which is why I don’t understand what he’s doing.”

  “Blackclaw knows,” said Jastin. “But to him, she’s just one more human he can kill, and not only will he get away with it, he’ll be idolized for it.” He sneered. “Isn’t that what you dragons do best? Kill humans?”

  Riza spun around to stamp her foot at the kneeling man. “Listen to yourself! You murder dragons for money!”

  Kallon blinked. “What did you just say?”

  “It’s his job,” she said, nudging Armitage with her foot. “He’s a dragon slayer.”

  Kallon slapped his paw to his forehead. Finally! It made sense! “Armitage, what happened to your shirt and vest?”

  He shrugged. “A Gray took them. I don’t know what he did with them.”

  “When he took them, was the pouch still in your vest? The pouch that—”

  “Whitetail and Brownwing have returned,” said Council Member Orangepaw. Yellowfang and the other council members turned to face them, then swept gracefully back to their places along the honored stone pallet. The crowd focused fresh attention on the platform.

  Orman joined Kallon and gently nudged him away from Riza. Kallon tried to catch her gaze as he stepped back, but Yellowfang passed and blocked his view.

  Whitetail approached the massive podium and settled a large wooden box on it. “Our laws and edicts, Council Leader Blackclaw, as pertains to the Ritual of Challenge.” Kallon could see Whitetail’s pawprints in the layer of dust coating the box. Whitetail and Brownwing had obviously already broken the spellcatch protecting the lock, judging by the smear of marks there, too.

  “Well. Be on with it, then,” said Blackclaw, his forelegs crossing. “Our feast of celebration grows cold in the manor.”

  Whitetail opened the lid. He withdrew a length of parchment, yellowed with age but otherwise flawless. He cleared his throat and then read aloud, “Any citizen of Leland Province who feels the chosen leadership is failing in its responsibilities to the greater whole may challenge any council seat to be replaced.”

  Kallon felt Blackclaw’s intense stare. Kallon kept his gaze on the White, afraid he might cave in if he dared to meet Blackclaw’s raging eyes.

  Whitetail continued reading. “The challenge must be stated before two or more witnesses, and spoken as thus: Council Member name, your ways of leadership are not commensurate with the long-held beliefs of your citizens. Your aspirations for their future are counterfeit, and your ambitions are self-seeking. I challenge your post.”

  “Word for word,” whispered Orman. “Got my wits about me so far!”

  “The challenge was spoken correctly, and satisfies me,” said Shera Yellowfang. She addressed the others. “Any disagreements?” Looks were exchanged, heads wagged. “Very well, please continue, Fane Whitetail.”

  He did. “Upon issuance of the challenge, the confronting citizen must offer irrefutable proof, A, that the confronted council seat—foregoing amendment procedures—votes, or coerces others to vote, contradictorily to established edicts, and B, that the confronted council seat has misused the authority and/or stature of the station by supplanting the goals of the community with personal gain.” Whitetail glanced to Blackclaw. Kallon thought he saw the scrolls trembling.

  “Is that all?” Blackclaw asked of the White, with a warning shot in his eyes.

  Whitetail took a deep breath and gathered himself. “No, it goes on to explain that you have the right to issue a quest, if Redheart wishes to replace you himself.”

  “Let us hear it, then,” said Brownwing.

  Whitetail glanced to Blackclaw again and tugged the parchment straight. “The confronting citizen, if wishing to replace the council member himself, must prove his honor and loyalty by completing a task commensurate with the level of responsibility to the seat. This task may be assigned by the challenged council member.”

  Kallon held up his paw. “That will not be necessary. I do not intend on replacing Blackclaw as council leader.”

  “Yes you do!” said Orman, and slapped Kallon’s shoulder.

  “No, I do not,” Kallon said, and waved for the proceedings to continue.

  Orman grumbled. “When you issued that challenge, you meant to reclaim your rightful place as heir to the council!”

  “No, I didn’t. One of the other council members is a better choice.”

  “But,” Orman said. “It’s your duty! Your destiny!”

  Kallon sighed heavily. “Orman, you have to let that go. I’m not my father.”

  Orman snorted and crossed his arms. “No. You aren’t.” Orman moved to Riza and put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I thought he would do the right thing.”

  “What’s happening?” asked Riza. “What’s the white dragon saying?”

  “Kallon has challenged Blackclaw as leader of the dragon council, but he doesn’t intend to replace him. I’m afraid that doesn’t bode well for you, my dear.”

  “Now wait a minute,” said Kallon. “Any council leader can free her. It doesn’t have to be me.”

  “Any council leader convinced of her innocence.” Orman raised his voice for the panel. “How many of you just now would say without a doubt that the girl should be released?”

  Council members regarded one another. No one spoke. Orman turned hard eyes to Kallon.

  “We all agree that a murder has been committed, Orman Thistleby,” said Shera Yellowfang. “We know the human in black is responsible, and the girl was in
his company when he was found. We have not seen enough evidence to convince us she is innocent.”

  “Though her respectful conduct during our proceedings has impressed us,” said Brownwing.

  “What are they saying, Orman?” Riza asked quietly.

  He patted her shoulder. “They appreciate your respect, but in order to be released, Kallon is going to have to pardon you as council leader.”

  She began a small smile for Kallon, but it froze on her face. Instead, she looked fearfully toward Orman.

  “Riza…” Kallon began to explain, but her eyes wouldn’t let him finish. He watched her in silence. Then he turned to the council members. “Very well. I include in my challenge the claim to the council leader seat.”

  Orman clapped his hands together in a single beat, and grinned. He hugged Riza, who couldn’t hug back.

  “Did he say he would do it?” she asked into Orman’s shoulder.

  “He did,” said the wizard. “I feel a change in the wind.”

  “There’s a change all right, but I wouldn’t lay odds in your favor.” Jastin yanked his chains. “How long are we going to stand here? How long is this challenge going to take?”

  Orman looked at Jastin with raised brows. “You understand dragonspeak?”

  Jastin rolled his eyes. “What kind of soldier would I be if I couldn’t understand the language of my enemy?”

  “Enemy!” Riza said, hushed. She glanced to the dragons all around them. “Mind your words, Jastin, they may decide your fate.”

  “My fate’s already decided,” he said. “I’m only sticking around now to make sure the stinking beasts don’t really hurt you.”

  “Jastin!” Riza chastised again, and moved away from him to the length of her chain, which took her near Blackclaw. When she looked up to find the black dragon glaring at her, she startled and inched back toward Orman.