Northern Storm ac-2

by Juliet E. McKenna

  ‘Let’s get around this island and see how we’re faring.’ Kheda looked at Dev, who was resting his improvised oar across his thighs, bald head thrown back, his eyes closed. The wizard jerked a single nod of consent.

  They made better speed now, beyond the grip of the current, but the new danger was drifting too close to the mottled, foam-wreathed reef running parallel with the shore. They crawled along the shoreline. Kheda stopped looking at it. It seemed that every time he glanced up, the same stubborn cluster of nut palms had barely shifted to mark their painful progress.

  ‘Let’s land when we’re past the next strait,’ Risala said tightly.

  ‘And find a spring,’ rasped Dev. ‘We’ll have to wait till it’s cooler before we go on.’ Kheda found he was nearly mute with cloying spittle and swallowed painfully. ‘Or we’ll all end up dead of heat prostration.’ We’ll just have to take our chances with the fleet still being at the rendezvous point.

  They toiled on until the raft slipped sideways into the mouth of a channel running between the little islet and a lump of thickly wooded land that tantalised with a moist green scent.

  Dev looked down the channel. ‘Shit!’

  ‘Savages!’ The raft dipped as Risala’s shudder ran down the steering oar.

  Kheda dug his paddle deep into the water, fear lending energy that put his weariness to flight. ‘They’re not looking this way.’

  Not yet.’ Dev matched him stroke for stroke. ‘It looks like a whole horde of those hollow log boats of theirs.’ Risala kept watch as she wrenched their course around towards the far shore.

  The rocky ledge ahead was steeply undercut by the ceaseless waves. Kheda looked desperately for some place to land as wild wordless cries echoed down the strait. ‘What are they doing?’

  ‘They’re not after us,’ Risala said with breathless relief. ‘They’re attacking some of their own.’

  ‘Mezai said the trireme crews heard screams in the night,’ Dev puffed.

  Kheda pointed urgently with his dripping paddle. ‘There, behind that boulder.’

  They pushed the raft through an awkward eddy and on to a narrow shelf of sand behind a tumble of broken rocks.

  ‘You’d think they’d be too busy running from Chazen swords to bother slaughtering each other,’ Dev observed as they hauled the raft out of the water. Kheda peered out over the water but the trees hid the battle from view. We’d better hide until they’ve gone away. We’ll never outrun them on open water—those log boats of theirs are cursed fast.’

  ‘We can look for a spring, can’t we?’ Risala set a hand on the hilt of her dagger.

  Dev settled his swords in his belt. ‘I don’t suggest we stand and fight if we bump into anyone.’

  No, we cut and run,’ Kheda agreed. ‘Let’s try to see what’s happening. Best we know what’s behind us before we go any further.’

  He led the way cautiously through the welcome shade of the forest. Defiant yells crushed inarticulate cries of pain that were pierced in turn by desperate screams. Rage and agony struggled for supremacy in the bitter cacophony.

  ‘This way.’ Dev pushed past Kheda towards the water, where reflected light rippled through the thinner trees.

  Risala halted. ‘I’m going to find a spring or some fruit or something. I’m parched.’

  Kheda stopped, torn. ‘Shout if you see anything dangerous.’

  ‘More dangerous than Dev?’ Risala’s half-smile lifted Kheda’s spirits just a little.

  Kheda pushed cautiously through a dense screen of tassel-bevy bushes to find a finger of pocked and pitted rock thrust out into the strait. Dev was already lying flat on the rough sandy ground, chin resting on his interlaced hands, intent on the scene before him. Careful of his swords, Kheda lowered himself to join the wizard. The rock was hard and gritty under his bare stomach.

  ‘It’s the usual mayhem,’ Dev said thoughtfully. ‘The attackers from over yonder are getting the worst of it.’ Some way off, though still too close for comfort, the flotilla Kheda had seen as they rounded the point was attacking an invader’s encampment on this larger island. Not built in the ruins of a Chazen village, that’s something to be thankful for.’ He spoke the thought aloud.

  The invaders had merely cleared a wide swathe of trees and brush, using the lumber and leafy branches to fashion crude shelters. There were a few blackened scars where cookfires had burned and some heaps of unidentifiable detritus.

  Dev’s dark eyes were fixed on the fighting. The shallow boats that had come over from the outlying island had almost reached this near shore when savages lying in wait had launched their own hollow log boats from the cover of bushes running down to the water. They hadn’t gone straight for their foes but had paddled out to the middle of the channel to cut off their retreat before driving them on to the hostile shore. The wild men fought out on the water, riding their perilous vessels as they stabbed and smashed at each other with wooden spears and stone-studded clubs. The dull thud of bludgeoning and the sharp crack of bone was a counterpoint to aggressive yells and pain-filled screams.

  The two mobs of savages were indistinguishable from each other. Their brief leather loincloths were virtually the same colour as their skin and all were impartially plastered with crude designs in pale paint, swirls and spirals and palm prints. All had their hair caked in mud, some decorated with feathers or leaves. None boasted the gaudy cloaks or brightly coloured garlands that the savages’ mages usually affected.

  Is it just the knowledge that their enemy’s wizard can rust the very weapons in their hands that keeps these people from using metal to offer and receive a cleaner death? Or do these wild mages choose to keep them in such barbarism, all the better to rule them?

  Sickened, Kheda watched an uneven fight turn into a massacre. The rough and ready weapons were brutally effective. Men disappeared into the sea, some with screams cut short by the smothering water, others stunned and silent, not a hand outstretched to save themselves. Bodies washed up against those who had nearly reached the shore. There was fighting on the waterline now, desperate attackers swinging murderous clubs against new foes racing out of the forest with blood-curdling cries.

  No sign of magic,’ Kheda said with hollow relief. Precious little sign of tactics, either.’

  ‘Why do you suppose they’re gathering up the bodies?’ Dev squinted across the bright water.

  A noise behind them sent both men reaching for a sword, hearts whipping round, ready to spring to their feet.

  ‘I found some setil melons by a little stream.’ Risala had halted a prudent distance back. She displayed the warty green globes in the lap of her tunic. What’s going on?”‘

  ‘They’re killing each other.’ Kheda took a melon and, slicing off the top, scooped yellow seeds out of the vivid red flesh with his knife.

  ‘This lot’s doing most of the killing.’ The wizard also took a melon and cut himself a hunk, spitting the seeds out as he chewed.

  ‘Are they killing them or taking them prisoner?’ Risala sat in the cover of the scrubby shoreline trees. ‘Is there a stockade for captives?’

  ‘Hard to say’ The melon’s aromatic tartness quenched Kheda’s thirst astonishingly fast. He waved away tiny black flies that had appeared from nowhere.

  ‘They didn’t dig any ditch or plant a palisade.’ Dev bared his teeth to scrape the last flesh from the melon skin.

  Kheda sucked on another piece of melon as he watched the triumphant savages sweep the debris of the battle back towards their own shore, bodies and log boats alike mere bobbing brown shapes. A few of the defeated wild men staggered to their feet in the shallows, only to be felled with lethal thrusts of wooden spears.

  ‘They don’t seem overly concerned with keeping them alive,’ Risala observed with distaste. Dev snapped his fingers at her. ‘Give me a melon, a whole one.’

  Risala tossed him a knobbly green fruit without comment.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Kheda watched the wizard slice off the top and scoop out
the seeds, staring intently into the hollow.

  ‘If there’s no wizard, then there’s no one to tell them they’re being scried on.’ He shrugged. ‘If there is, then that’s one question answered at least and we can make a run for it.’ He broke off as he saw something in the juice.

  ‘What is it?’ Kheda pressed close to the mage to get a look at the spell.

  ‘See for yourself.’ Dev swatted at the greedy flies obscuring his view.

  Kheda peered into the melon to see the victorious savages piling bodies in a crude heap. Some were plainly dead, hearts distorted with wounds, shattered bone and grey ooze pale against their dark, matted hair. Others still struggled feebly, gasping for air that shattered chests could no longer supply, spitting bloody foam as broken ribs tore their innards. Wooden spears jutted from pierced bellies and limbs, welling dark blood against pale timber barely dried.

  ‘Dev!’ Risala darted forward to snatch the melon and hurl it out into the water.

  ‘What the—?’ Dev gaped at the girl.

  Kheda froze, looking to see if any distant savage had heard the sudden splash.

  A flap of great leathery wings reverberated along the strait. Kheda grabbed for Risala and pulled her down beside him, sheltering her body with his own. The noise of wings came again, rending the air with a sound like tearing calico. The savages raised an exultant ululation.

  ‘What’s going on, Dev?’ Kheda demanded in a harsh whisper.

  Dev’s eyes were wide and wondering. ‘Cursed if I know,’ he hissed, frustrated. ‘And I won’t be scrying to find out.’

  Frantic drumming of spears and clubs on the hollow log boats echoed along the strait, volume swelling, pace increasing. It stopped, cut off by the thunderous crash of the dragon’s landing.

  Did it really make the earth shake or is that just my imagination running riot?

  Kheda moved as far forward as he dared, to the edge of the rocky promontory where the three of them lay.

  The dragon had landed and was crouching in the middle of the area the savages had cleared. Its lashing tail smashed a scatter of crude shelters. The wild men were all prostrate on the ground, not moving even when the beast’s mighty tail sent broken timbers thumping down on their unprotected bodies. The dragon threw back its head and roared, an ear-splitting, unearthly sound penetrating flesh and bone. Flocks of panic-stricken birds surged up from the forest all around. Even the pied forest eagles that had few foes to fear burst screeching from the trees and fled.

  Kheda reached for Risala and she held his hand tight. The warlord spared Dev a glance. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘It’s the magic. I can feel it.’ Dev’s eyes were wide and bright and the breath was shaking in his chest, as if he had a fever. ‘I’ll be all right,’ the mage said through clenched teeth, ‘as long as it doesn’t come any nearer.’

  Kheda shared a glance with Risala that told him they were in unspoken agreement.

  If it does, that’s when we start running. And don’t you dare follow us, you star-crossed barbarian. The dragon roared again, not so loudly this time, more intimidation than challenge. Rising to its feet, it stalked towards the tangled heap of dead and dying savages. It snapped at the helpless victims and severed limbs fell from its mighty jaws as it tossed its head back to swallow.

  ‘Stars above.’ Kheda watched, aghast, unable to look away.

  ‘So that’s how you stop a dragon eating you,’ Dev said with a strained attempt at sarcasm. ‘Make sure you’ve taken enough prisoners to fill its belly.’

  ‘Is that why the invaders didn’t care that their captives were too old to be useful slaves?’ Risala wrinkled her nose. ‘They just wanted meat on hand in case a dragon arrived?’

  ‘But none of their wizards summoned a dragon last year.’ Kheda looked at Dev. ‘Why not?’

  Dev glared back. ‘I’ll weave a quick net of elemental air to grab one of those shoving his face in the dirt, shall I? We’ll hope he’s managed to learn enough Aldabreshin to explain, shall we?’

  ‘Look.’ Kheda extracted his aching fingers from Risala’s fierce grip with some difficulty and laid his hand on top of hers. Down on the shoreline, a single figure rose slowly to his feet from among the huddled mass of savages. ‘Is that their wizard?’

  ‘The one bastard astute enough to discard anything that would single him out for death at our hands?’ Dev narrowed his dark eyes, sweat beading his forehead.

  There was nothing to distinguish this wild man from the rest. The beast paused in its grisly feast and regarded him, cocking its massive head quizzically. It opened its mouth, rags of flesh dark on its white teeth, and hissed, low and menacingly.

  The man kept his eyes lowered, not meeting the creature’s burning gaze. Head bowed, he reached into some recess of his scant loin cloth and threw something in the dust before the dragon. Its head darted down and the scales fringing the back of its neck fanned out. Tongue flickering, the beast rumbled deep in its throat, making the air throb. Losing interest in the meat scattered around it, the dragon crouched, hind legs coiled beneath it, front legs bent, claws digging into the sand. The light at the centre of its lurid red eyes shone fiery gold.

  The solitary bold savage walked slowly to one of the remaining shelters. The dragon’s brilliant gaze tracked his every step. The great beast froze, motionless, as the man ducked inside. He reappeared almost immediately with a wooden chest. Still with that same measured pace, he approached the dragon and set the brass-bound box down just within striking distance of its long neck. Then his nerve broke and he scrambled backwards, tripping over one of his companions to go sprawling in the dust. He cowered, drawing up his legs like a terrified child, one arm impotently lifted to ward off the dragon’s murderous bite.

  The creature ignored him, stretching out its head to sniff at the coffer. Dusty earth stirred around its forefeet as it dug its claws deeper into the ground. Its forked tongue flickered out, tasting the dark ironwood and the tarnished bindings. Then, with the same delicacy it had shown when extricating the hapless Chazen warriors from their armour, it extended one forepaw and drove a claw into the top of the chest. One powerful twist broke the coffer into kindling and the dragon sniffed at the contents. What is he giving it?’ Risala asked, baffled.

  ‘Is that the mage we must kill?’ demanded Kheda.

  ‘I don’t sense any hint of magic in the man,’ Dev said slowly. ‘It’s hard to be sure, though, with the dragon filling the whole island with its aura. Only . . .’ His voice trailed of

  Kheda couldn’t recall when he had last seen uncertainty in the barbarian’s eyes. ‘What?’

  ‘To be a wizard, you must be mageborn and have an innate affinity with one or more of the essential elements of nature,’ Dev said slowly.

  Born to twist and corrupt nature.

  ‘I know that.’ Kheda bit down on his distaste.

  ‘It’s like any skill—there are some with more aptitude than others. There are some with so little capacity that all the training in the world won’t make them useful.’ Dev nodded towards the dragon still intent on nosing at the fragments of the little chest, ignoring the wild men prone all around. ‘I think we did kill all the wizards. If that man is magebom, I don’t reckon he’s got anything more than negligible ability in the ordinary way of things. But he can draw enough strength to work plenty of mischief if he can keep the dragon close at hand—if he can keep it from eating him.’

  ‘How can we kill him?’ demanded Kheda.

  ‘With that thing playing watchdog?’ Dev chewed his lip. ‘I can’t see us doing that. Still, it should take him a few days to work out what to do with his new power. And just having the dragon around might promote a few other new wizards from the spear-carriers. Maybe they’ll start fighting each other. Maybe we’ll get lucky.’

  ‘What will the dragon do then?’ Kheda wondered with a hollow feeling of dread.

  Not a lot, I would hope,’ said Dev. ‘As long as there are plenty of dead for it to eat.’

&nb
sp; ‘He knows what else to give it to keep it happy,’ added

  Kheda thoughtfully. ‘What do you suppose that is?’

  The dragon was lying down now, tail curled around its haunches, forefeet cradling whatever the wild man had given it. Stretching out its long neck, it plucked another lifeless body from the heap of dead and slowly ate it with an audible crunching. Sliding backwards on their bellies and elbows, the surviving savages retreated into the forest.

  ‘It’s gems. It has to be,’ Risala said suddenly. ‘The invaders were never interested in other loot. They’d barely take more food beyond what would fill their bellies after a fight.’

  ‘Why give gems to a dragon?’ Kheda looked at Dev.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Vindictively the wizard crushed a fly crawling on a scrap of melon rind. ‘Velindre might, but I’m not bespeaking her within fifty leagues of that thing, even if I had the means to do it.’

  ‘We need to get away from here.’ Kheda tried to see where the savages had gone but the all-concealing foliage made that impossible.

  ‘We’ll take some melons with us.’ Risala crawled backwards to j nut palm and, cutting a few fronds, began plaiting them rapidly. ‘And we need hats in this sun.’

  ‘You were quick off the mark back there,’ Dev said grudgingly as he glowered at the contented dragon. Nothing like the thought of being eaten alive to sharpen the ears.’ She shuddered.

  Kheda waited impatiently until she had finished the basket. He shovelled melons into the lopsided container and gathered it up. Hot and sticky with juice and sweat, dust and grit coating his arms and chest, the weight of the basket ground painfully against his skin. The discomfort was nothing compared to the torment of this new threat to Chazen.

  A dragon. Which looks quite happy to stay as long as these savages keep feeding it their can-ion. Whose very presence may be enough to give these wild men new mages. We barely survived their last assaults backed by their murderous sorceries.

  ‘There you go, my lord.’ Dev tossed a crudely woven hat to Kheda. ‘Sony if it’s not quite suitable for your dignity.’