Storm of Wings

by Chris Bunch

  "Don't be too quick to fly around any of our barges," he said cynically. "Sailors have a great reputation for shooting at anything in the air, no matter whose pennons they're flying. Each dragon'll fly a banner with Deraine's colors on it, but don't depend on that being much of a shield.

  "This time, everybody draws trumpets, and if you see anything—an ambush, a dragon—blast your little brains out.

  "Gart, since you're the seaman among us, I want you to tell everybody how these river barges sail, so we can maybe anticipate what they'll do when they get hit.

  "I'll lead the first flight out tomorrow. We'll fly north, where we'll link up with a river convoy. Chincha, on my wing. Mariah, you'll fly number two. Pick your own wingman."

  The dragons lumbered into the still, summer sky at dawn. Hal led the four to the river, turned north. They flew slowly, Hal peering ahead to look for signs of the enemy.

  Storm began snaking his head back and forth, sensing something.

  Hal decided to trust him, waved for the other three to climb.

  They rounded a bend, and saw two black dragons, sitting on a sandbank.

  They waddled into the air, necks stretched like geese, but it was too late. The Deraine fliers were on them, bolts slamming into the fliers. One dragon squawked like a wounded goose, slammed into the water, a gout of spray around it.

  The other ducked through river-edge brush, and flew hard east, deeper into Roche territory.

  Hal let it go, signaling the others back toward the river, expecting the pair had been waiting for the Deraine boats to appear, which meant there should be an ambush laid nearby.

  There was—twenty cavalrymen, some in uniform, some in ragged civilian attire.

  They had only a moment before the four dragons were on them, talons ripping, tails lashing down, smashing horses and men.

  The riders broke, and were harried by the flight away from the river.

  Only a handful escaped.

  Hal returned to base, sent an exuberant message to Lord Cantabri:

  "Dragons love fishing. Took about eighteen bottom feeders this morn."

  Another flight went out in the afternoon, and jumped soldiers setting up a block where the river narrowed, and attacked.

  Hal heard, a day later, the Roche troops assigned to ambuscades along the river had started calling the dragons "Whispering Death," from the slight rush of air across their wings as they attacked.

  "I would like," Limingo the wizard said precisely, "a flight around Aude."

  "I have read the orders here from Lord Cantabri saying you're to get anything you want," Hal said, tapping the scroll the magician's extraordinarily handsome assistant handed him. "And I obey my orders."

  "I know," Limingo said. "But it's always nicer to have some enthusiasm, rather than simple rote obedience."

  "You can have that, and more," Hal said. "Provided you do me two small favors."

  "Magical, I assume."

  "Of course."

  "No love philters until the war's over," Limingo cautioned and started laughing at Hal's annoyance until he caught on.

  "I'd especially like," Limingo said, "you to fly me—"

  Hal stopped him with an upraised hand.

  "Tell me when we're in the air."

  Limingo lifted eyebrows, but obeyed.

  Unlike his master, Limingo was eager to clamber up behind Hal, and positively glowed as the dragon lumbered into the air, and changed from a waddling monster to a graceful creature of the heavens.

  He leaned forward. "Are we a little suspicious of our fellows?"

  "I'll explain later—when we're alone," Hal said. "Now, what do you want to look at?"

  "The far side of Aude, particularly the main gate," Limingo said.

  Hal did, swooping low, and getting a few arrows in his general direction for his bravado.

  "They're getting better," he said over his shoulder.

  "Let's hope," the wizard said, "this marks the limits of their expertise. If you could do what you just did, two or three more times?"

  Hal obeyed. The magician seemed to have no idea of bodily harm.

  "Very well," Limingo said. "I think I have enough."

  Hal flew back to the base, landed Storm a ways from the barn, and explained his caution.

  "My," Limingo said, "a possible spy. What happened to that dagger that was used to kill your serjeant?"

  "I still have it. The matter hasn't been reported, by the way."

  "Aren't you playing your cards a little close?"

  "Maybe," Hal said. "If I let the provosts know, they'll be kicking through my whole flight, looking here and there and everywhere.

  "We've got a war to fight, and it won't get any easier if my fliers are looking over their shoulders for spies or, for that matter, warders who'll suspect everyone."

  "Why don't you give me that dagger," Limingo suggested. "A spell here and there might give some fascinating answers."

  "That was one of the favors I was going to ask," Hal said. "I assume, the reason you wanted to fly where we did is there is a plan afoot?"

  "I hope so," Limingo said. "This crap of sending men against solid stone is doing nothing but guaranteeing Deraine and Sagene are going to have some very empty counties for a couple of generations.

  "But everyone, even our noble lords in command, know the Roche have paid close attention to their gates, so it's not a matter of just wandering up and knocking politely.

  "I thought I might be able to devise something. And I think I was right, assuming the Roche thaumaturges don't pay attention to every detail.

  "You mentioned you could use two favors. One we've discussed. What about the other?"

  "I could do with some help looking for a dragon base," Hal said. "I took one of their flights out of the war once by attacking their base.

  "Now we've got those black dragons, who're giving everyone a rough way to go. Maybe a good wizard could be of assistance?"

  "I might," Limingo said. "Especially if you happen to have any scales, banners, whatever that belonged to the Roche or their dragons."

  "I think we have a couple of souvenir keepers," Hal said.

  He put Gart to rooting through the flight, and produced a pennon and an arrow that'd wounded one flier.

  "Excellent," Limingo said. "My assistant and I'll set up this very night."

  That night, at the far end of the field, there were strangely colored lights, flickering, and chants that seemed to come from more than two throats.

  The soldiers of the flight shivered, and held close to their quarters.

  In the morning, Limingo said, a bit angrily, that there were some heavy counterspells on what he'd been given.

  "Perhaps," he suggested, "the leader of this black dragon unit is aware of the flight you obliterated, and is taking thorough precautions?"

  "Perhaps," Hal said. "Yasin is no idiot."

  "I'm sorry, Lord Kailas," Limingo said. "Perhaps, with my other incantation, I'll be more successful.

  "In the meantime, stand by to be given special duties in the not distant future."

  Three days later, Hal returned from a river sweep to find he had visitors.

  Thom Lowess had arrived.

  With him was Lady Khiri Carstares.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Hal followed his first instinct, and kissed Lady Khiri thoroughly. After awhile, she pulled back and whispered, "I'm certainly glad you're not one of those who believe in propriety."

  Only then was Hal vaguely aware, through the roaring in his ears and his mind yammering for him to lug her into the nearest tent and work his lack of will on her, the cheering from the men on the dragon line.

  He blushed a little, let her go.

  "You know," she said, still in that wonderful whisper, "what they say about fliers is true. You all do smell like dragons."

  "Uh," Hal managed. "I guess so. I suppose it's because—"

  Khiri interrupted him. "I don't mind it at all. It makes you smell like sex."

/>   A few feet away, Thom Lowess coughed discreetly.

  "I'm also glad to see you, Lord Kailas."

  Hal came back to himself, half-saluted Lowess.

  "And I you, sir. What brings you here?"

  "I, and my aide," Lowess said, indicating Khiri, "are in search of good tales. Tales to embolden the hearer, tales of victory and hope."

  He made a face.

  "And, right now, the dragon fliers are about the only good thing of notice around Aude. Although…" He let his voice trail off.

  Hal looked at the taleteller questioningly, but got only a bland smile.

  "Well," Khiri managed. "You certainly don't have to make any protestations of your virtue after that."

  "Sorry," Hal said. "I didn't mean to lose control… at least not so quickly."

  "So shut up," she said, lifting her legs around him, "and don't stop."

  She moaned, then bit his ear.

  "What would you say if I said I thought I was falling in love with you?"

  Hal covered her mouth with his, didn't answer.

  Hal vaguely expected some comments from his fliers about Lady Khiri, or at least some raised eyebrows. If there were any, they were very much behind his back, and it seemed that most soldiers in his flight thought it was perfectly all right for the "old man," as he'd come to be known, not yet twenty-five, to have a little joy in his life.

  Both Khiri and Lowess busied themselves during the day interviewing everyone in the flight, including the dragons, or so it seemed.

  "Good tales, m'boy," Lowess said. "Especially this duel you're having with Sir Nanpean Tregony for being the ultimate Dragonmaster. Especially especially with you both having come from the same town, and now being friendly rivals.

  "It's the buzz of all Deraine, you know."

  Hal thought of explaining, decided what he and Tregony felt about each other was no one's business, so long as it didn't get in the way of the war.

  He did have one question of Lowess—how had this matter of their purported competition spread so widely?

  "You certainly don't think you're the only young hero who's got a taleteller hanging to his coat tails, do you?" Lowess answered briskly. "You just happen to have gotten lucky and drawn the best."

  Hal and his flight element, now down to ten fliers, nine dragons, went about their mission, escorting the convoys up and down the River Comtal. Sometimes they met the black dragons, and fought them if they had the advantage, but mostly were forced to flee, swearing at Hal's absolute orders, and sworn at by the sailors below, who had no reason to understand their abandonment.

  Hal realized, after a day or two, that Lowess was just passing time, waiting for something.

  Since he didn't get in the way much, and his presence kept Khiri around, that was well and good with Kailas.

  He wanted her not to leave until he finished puzzling this matter of love over in his mind.

  Now the rumor was everywhere—Deraine and Sagene were getting ready for a great offensive that would end the siege once and for all.

  Hal cursed the inability of anyone in the army to keep his mouth shut and his nose in his own business, but it didn't change matters.

  Alarms were shouted, trumpets blared, and there was chaos in the village. Hal made it out of his sanctuary, no more than a towel wrapped around him, in time to see a huge black dragon climbing away from the village.

  "What is it?" Khiri asked sleepily, coming out to the head of the steps. It was just dawn, and they'd been up later than they should, still delighting in each other's body.

  Hal shook his head, saw a soldier running toward him, waving a tube.

  "Sir!" the woman shouted. "It's for you."

  Hal blinked, took the tube. Tied to it was a pennon Hal recognized—Ky Yasin's!

  And his name was neatly written on the tube.

  He twisted it open, forgetful of sorcery, and took out a note.

  It read:

  Lord Kailas:

  There appears to be a matter of honor between us, that you might find amusing to settle at your convenience.

  I have heard that you are the ranking dragon killer of Deraine and Sagene, and have even had the temerity to dub yourself Dragonmaster.

  I will meet you, just the two of us, over any place you name, at a time and date of your choosing, where we may discuss this matter at greater length.

  If you have interest, and consider yourself an honorable man, return this container with your conditions across the walls of Aude. It will reach me.

  Ky Bayle Yasin

  Commander

  First Guards

  Dragon Squadron

  Hal read it once, again. A smile came. He had an idea that might possibly solve two problems at the same time.

  The dragon fliers listened closely as Hal outlined the challenge from Yasin. Lowess hovered in the background, beaming at yet another superb tale falling into his lap, pen scribbling frantically.

  "First question I've got," Hal said, "is the bastard being honorable. Opinions?"

  He pointed around. They ran from Mariah's "friggin' impossible. He's a Roche," to Gart's "maybe. Just maybe," to Sir Nanpean's "who gives a hang. What a chance to go down in history, win or lose."

  Indeed, Hal thought. Especially if I lose, Tregony'll be the one going down in history. I'll just be going down:

  "My own opinion," he said carefully, "is it's worth a shot. I personally don't believe Yasin'll be the only one to show up.

  "But that doesn't mean we should play the utter fool."

  He went to a large-scale map of the Aude region.

  "Now, here's what I propose. I'll drop the message over Aude, agreeing to the meet. I'll set it for… oh, five days from now. At dawn. We'll meet here," and his finger stabbed at the map about ten miles downstream from Aude.

  "Away from the front lines, and this is a huge damned meadow," he went on.

  "I'll agree to fight him at, say, 500 feet."

  "That'll give you some advantage," Sir Loren said judiciously. "The air's thicker down there, and his black will be a little harder to handle in tight turns."

  "More than one advantage," Hal said. "Just in case he brings friends, I'll want the rest of you on the ground here," and he indicated an area about a mile from the meadow.

  "Light trees, which'll give the dragons cover. If he fights fair, you can stay where you are. But if he shows up with his squadron, then you can get in the air fast, save my young ass, and maybe wipe out some of those blacks.

  "Rumor has it we'll be needing all the help we can get in the not too distant future."

  "You're a damned romantic fool," Khiri said.

  "So it appears," Hal agreed. "But I happen to believe I can tear Yasin's nose off, and feed it to his damned black dragon."

  "As if he'll be the only one there!"

  "If that's the case, then I'll have the whole flight behind me. I don't think he'll bring his whole squadron to wipe out one dumb Deraine."

  "You think!" Khiri said. "Men!"

  "Shut up, and come here."

  She came across the room, sank into his arms.

  Hal nibbled on her ear, then whispered, "Even a romantic can be a sneaky bastard."

  She lifted her head back, considered his smile.

  "You have a plot."

  "Maybe."

  "Which you won't tell me about."

  "Not now. Now, give me back that ear, if you will."

  Hal rode to Command Headquarters, looked up Limingo.

  "I'm sorry, Lord Kailas," he apologized. "But I've been running myself ragged, like every other magician with the army, with… with this plan we're developing. But I promise you, within the week, I'll let you know what clues that dagger gives."

  Hal wasn't happy—he'd hoped sorcery could keep him from having to play out the game with Yasin.

  But since it wouldn't, he found Lord Cantabri, asked him for a small favor, and explained.

  "One company, only?" Cantabri looked at the map again. "I'll have tw
o there, I promise. That might improve the quality of slaughter.

  "You know, your duel with Yasin has shot around the army like an arrow-chase."

  "What are the odds?"

  Cantabri hesitated.

  "Six to five," he admitted. "No one feels that the Roche will live up to their end of the bargain."

  "Six to five," Hal mused. "That's the best life gives you, isn't it? Either way?"

  Cantabri grinned.

  "Perhaps, knowing what you told me, I might be convinced to have a bit of a go myself."

  The days crawled past. Hal watched his fliers closely, but none of them behaved differently than before, and he wasn't able to narrow his search for the spy, if spy there was.

  A courier came down to summon Sir Thom Lowess to the Armies' Command, the day before the duel. Hal knew that meant the offensive was drawing near.

  Lowess sent the courier back, saying he'd be honored to join them, in a day's time, but he had another matter to take care of first.

  "I don't know," Khiri said, "if I should be here, or not. If something happens…"

  "If something happens," Hal said, "wouldn't you rather hear it directly?"

  "I suppose so. Oh, dammit, I'm going to cry."

  Hal slept badly that night. He was glad to be roused by the orderly warrant two hours before dawn.

  He dressed quickly, went to the fliers' room. He'd ordered guards around the building, and the only people to be admitted were Sir Loren, Farren Mariah, Mynta Gart.

  "I'm changing the orders," Hal said briskly. "I want each of you to take two other fliers out under your absolute orders.

  "But don't, I repeat, do not, land where I ordered you to.

  "Instead…" And Hal outlined his orders.

  "A question, if I might?" Sir Loren asked. "Why the change?"

  "You can ask, but you'll not get an answer. At least, not right now.

  "You're dismissed. The other fliers and the dragons should be getting rousted out and fed by now."

  Half an hour before dawn, the rest of the dragons in the flight took off. Hal had told each of them to obey any commands signaled by the three team leaders, no matter what they were.

  He waited until they disappeared into the darkness, then went to Storm.