"Just a few little things I picked up from some hill dwarves," he muttered.
There was no time to argue this. Sara strode forward and grabbed the first part of his anatomy she reached, his blunt tail, and tugged hard. "Cobalt, if you have a stash here already, fine. I don't care, just bury it well. We will be gone from here for a while."
The dragon paused, for her worry had reached him at last. "Why?"
"There are people from my village coming to look for you. I don't want them hurt."
"Where are we going?"
"Neraka," she replied flatly.
Cobalt's eyes gleamed gold in the darkness. "Why?"
Sara was exasperated. "Is that all you can ask?"
"I want to know. You've been stewing over Neraka for days."
Sara tried to sort through the jumble of her feelings, and it was out of the jumble, not from any reasoning process, that she said, "Because I have to."
What the dragon made of that he did not say. He only shoved the dirt back in his hole, tossed on a few rocks, and trampled it all down. Then he nudged Sara out the opening.
For the moment, they said nothing more, postponing for a breathing space anything else that needed to be said. Sara hurriedly harnessed the dragon saddle to Cobalt's back and strapped on her packs.
In the quiet of the coming morning, they heard clearly the bay of dogs and the muffled shouts of approaching men.
She donned her cloak and gloves and, without further hesitation, pulled the helm down over her silver hair. It was time to go. Cobalt bent his foreleg to help her up, and she swiftly climbed into the saddle.
As soon as she was strapped in, his powerful hind legs thrust them up into the cold, clear air. His translucent wings unfurled, blue sails against a cerulean sky.
The sun lifted above the eastern peaks just in time to gild his scales with pale gold. He gleamed like a blue diamond caught in a beam of light.
From below came more shouts and angry cries. Sara glanced down and saw several dozen men running through the trees below. They carried flails and pitch-forks, few old swords, and bows. One man even had a lance. Sara knew they wouldn't have stood a chance against a dragon like Cobalt. She did not know whether to admire them for their courage and determination or laugh at their idiocy. Briefly she saluted them before the dragon carried her away out of sight.
They flew south for a time, paralleling the range of peaks in the Vingaard Mountains. The day was crisp, the air crystal clear, and the winds aloft were just strong enough to provide lift for Cobalt's wings—perfect flying weather. The blue stretched out his neck. He flattened his horns and reveled in the joy of flight.
Strangely, Sara was able to share in his pleasure. She had left her work, her home, her friends, and perhaps her future behind to face dark intrigue, evil, and dismal danger in the days ahead. And yet she felt relieved, almost excited. A terrible tension in her mind, one she had not even recognized, was gone, shattered with the strength of her final acceptance of her duty. This journey was right. She knew it with every fiber of her being, and if she died or failed in her attempt, at least she had made the effort and not languished in Connersby, always wondering if she should have.
Sara smiled to herself. Steel would have been proud of her actions whether or not he approved of her intentions.
She let Cobalt fly for most of the morning before she suggested he find a place to hide and rest.
He did not argue, since he was already tired from a night of hunting and chasing hill dwarves, and he banked down to a narrow canyon where a creek provided water and a cliff offered an overhang just large enough to shelter a blue dragon.
Sara cut some pine boughs for a bed and, weary from her long night, wrapped herself in her cloak and went to sleep. Nothing disturbed her, and she woke several hours after sunset feeling refreshed, if a little stiff from the unyielding ground.
Get used to it, she told herself. There was no telling what lay before her in the days ahead. To be honest, Sara did not know exactly what she planned to do when she reached Neraka. Ideally she wanted to hide on a high vantage point overlooking the city and just watch what was going on without stepping foot in its foul streets. When she had seen all there was to see, she and Cobalt could slip away unsuspected. That was the ideal.
But Sara knew from long experience that life was rarely ideal. Scouts or flying dragon guards could spot her; she and Cobalt could be captured, possibly executed as spies. And if she did not go into the city, she would miss a wealth of detailed information about the knights: their organization, their leaders, their strength, their plans.
Lord Ariakan had studied everything he could about the Solamnic Knights before he formed his own order for the Dark Queen. Know your enemy, he used to expound to his men, and his precepts had worked. The knights had been highly successful against the Solamnics — until the god of Chaos turned against them all.
Yet if she went into Neraka itself, there were dozens of new difficulties to think through. She had never been to Neraka before. What was it like? Could she get in undetected? If she was questioned, how would she explain her presence to the authorities? How would she get out? Should Cobalt go with her? Would he want to go?
When she asked the blue that question, he cocked his head to one side and repeated what he had told her earlier in the mountains near Daron. "I've already lost one rider. I do not want to lose another."
"Will you keep my identity secret from the other dragons?"
He huffed a cloud of steam. "Since they would kill you if the knew, of course I will." He thought of something else and added, "What if one of the older knights recognizes you?"
"I thought of that. I think a little change in appearance would not hurt."
"A disguise?"
"Nothing so obvious. Just a little alteration. Even eight years ago my hair was long and gray. People would remember something like that. So I'll try shorter and lighter." She dug into her pack for a small packet she had thrown in at the last moment. "Camomile and basil," she chuckled, throwing the packet into a pot of water she had heating on her small fire. "Camomile to lighten the gray. Basil to add body and shine. If it does nothing else, it'll make me smell like a salad."
By the light of the tiny fire, she used her dagger to cut off her silver braid just above her shoulders. She tried not to sigh as she tossed the braid on the fire. Her thick, full hair had been a source of quiet pride for years and had not been cut since Steel was a boy, before her brown tresses turned prematurely gray.
She washed her hair in creek water with a sliver of soap and rinsed it several times in the infusion of camomile and basil. While it dried, she ate a quick meal, packed her gear on Cobalt, and buried her fire.
The dragon curled his neck around to look at her critically in the dim starlight. "You look different. Younger. Your hair is curly."
"It is?" Sara's hand flew to her newly shorn hair. To her surprise, she felt waves in her hair—nothing like corkscrews, but there were definitely soft curls that had been released from the weight of the long braid. She tied it back behind her head with a strip of leather and grinned. "I should have done this sooner."
On the skirts of a west wind, they crossed over the mountains and flew westward above the night-dark lands of Elkholm. They passed over the Vingaard River and into Heartlund, and at dawn they sought shelter in a strip of forest not far from the edges of the Dargaard Mountains. In the dense woodland, they spent the day resting and poring over Sara's map and planning their approach to Neraka.
Since she did not know what to expect, Sara left many of their decisions as open as possible. She did not want to commit themselves to a plan that could prove untenable the moment they laid eyes on the city. "Whatever happens," she told Cobalt, "just follow my lead."
After nightfall, Cobalt flew Sara over the edge of the grasslands into the hills and the desolate Khalkist Mountains of the old Taman Busuk. The mountain peaks rose like a series of ragged saw blades interspersed with wide valleys of grassy wasteland
. Snow robed the summits and lay thick along the gray-black granite slopes. A powerful wind swirled among the peaks and set plumes of ghostly white trailing from their crowns.
To rise safely over the mountains, Cobalt had to fight against the icy winds that threatened to send him tumbling sideways or sweep him into a cliff wall. He stretched out his long neck and blunt tail, and strained with all his strength to keep his wings moving and his direction true. He did not want to be swept off course if he could help it.
Sara clung to his back and tried to keep her cloak tightly wrapped around her. She was very thankful for the leather boots and flying gloves that kept her feet and hands from freezing.
Both of them breathed a sigh of relief when they reached a valley and could fly lower into the warmer, quieter air.
They flew over three distinct splintered ranges before they reached the dense heart of the Khalkists, where the volcanoes steamed like sleeping giants and the valleys disappeared entirely. Below Cobalt's wings, as far as Sara could see, stretched a vast, bleak realm of barren peaks and stony ridges.
She shivered as much from the cold as the bleakness of the land beneath. Although she had never been near Neraka, she had heard descriptions of it from other knights at Storm's Keep. Yet that did not prepare her for the harsh, almost cruel character of the landscape surrounding the city.
I shouldn't be surprised, she thought. The city was founded by Queen Takhisis and had been the location of the Temple of Darkness. It seemed only fitting the Dark Queen would choose a place in the midst of a massive natural stone fortress.
Sara grimly held on to the horn of her saddle. She forced her mind to tramp down any tendrils of fear that tried to grow. Cobalt was close to Neraka, if her map was right, and she needed to stay alert.
Daylight glimmered on the eastern horizon when Cobalt spotted pinpoints of light on the ground far ahead. He dropped lower in altitude and skimmed along the flanks of the mountains toward the lights. They skirted a smoking volcano, turned south slightly, and glided to a landing on the top of a tall, steep-sided ridge in the highlands north of the city. In the shelter of a rock outcropping, they looked down into the basin of Neraka and watched silently while the rising sun brought the city of the Knights of Takhisis to life.
At first there was nothing to see but the city's torches and lamps clustered around the central fortress. The rest of the valley was shrouded in dense darkness. Little by little, though, the sky grew brighter and shed its pale gleam on buildings, walls, tents, and barracks. Details became clearer; colors returned. The mountain's shadow still loomed over the valley, but slowly the shade retreated as the sun rose higher.
Sara took a long, contemplative look and thought the city looked better in the darkness. The opal light of dawn could do nothing to improve the scene below.
The city of Neraka had sprung up in a wide, flat basin that reminded Sara of a piece of old, worn crockery. The valley floor was brown and barren, cracked with fissures, and any trees that may have grown on the floor or on the slopes were long gone, cut down to fuel the endless fires that burned within the city. Around the bowl loomed massive volcanic peaks that steamed and smoked and added their own fumes to the pall that hung over the city.
The city itself consisted of three main areas, one within the other, like concentric rings. In the center was the heart of Neraka, the fortified inner keep that sheltered within its confines a large open square. In the square was a crater, a deep black hole that at one time had been the foundation of a huge building. Nothing reflected off its black emptiness, and no amount of sunlight could enhance the evil gloom that hunkered over the sunken stone.
Sara knew without asking that the ruin was the Temple of Darkness, destroyed by the forces of good nearly thirty-five years before.
Outside the inner keep was the inner bailey, crowded with buildings of all descriptions. A second, higher wall, strengthened with massive watchtowers, surrounded this part of the inner city, and at its base was the outer bailey, This, too, was jammed with buildings and streets, stables and markets. Even in the early morning hours, the streets crawled with activity.
Outside the walls was the second ring of the city proper, if "proper" was a term that could be applied to the warren of brothels, bars, shops, slave pens, huts, and hovels that clung close to the fortress walls like so much fungus.
The last ring of Neraka belonged to the Knights of Takhisis and was shaped by orderly sections of barracks and tents arranged in a circle around the city. The area looked frightfully organized and busy with troops hurrying back and forth. The wall of tents reminded Sara not so much of an organized military establishment as a prison wall meant to keep inhabitants of the city in and intruders out.
Guards marched everywhere, on the fortress battlements, at the gates, in the busy streets, around the tent quarters. She could see sunlight glint off their weapons and armor and hear the distant echo of their horns. A dozen dragons, mostly blues, flew lazy circles over the valley floor, keeping a close watch on the four roads that led into the city.
Apparently the Knights of Takhisis had already built up a sizable force in the three short years they had occupied the land around Neraka. The thought made Sara shudder.
"Well," she said to Cobalt, crouched beside her. "Do we stay here, sneak in, or knock on the front door?"
Cobalt suddenly lifted his head and swiveled around to look at the ridge behind them. His nostrils flickered, and he grunted, "I think we'd better knock."
Sara sprang to her feet, her hand automatically reaching up for her sword strapped to her back. She didn't see what disturbed the dragon at first, but then she spotted them, a squad of draconians loping across the top of the ridge toward them.
"Wyrmsbreath, that was fast!" she muttered irritably. "Where did they come from?"
"Do we fight?" Cobalt asked hopefully.
"No. Not yet. Since they know we're here, that rules out secrecy." She untied her blue-black helm from the saddle and pulled it decisively over her silver-blond hair. "Come on. We'll knock. You are now the mount of one Knight Warrior Sara Conby."
"Knight Warrior?" Cobalt snorted. "Last time you were an officer."
"I don't want to push my luck," she said briefly. Ignoring the rapidly approaching draconians, she climbed to the saddle. Cobalt spread his wings and leapt aloft.
Ever alert, the dragons flying above the city spied the blue immediately and abruptly veered toward him.
Cobalt paid scant attention. Huffing to himself, he glided over the ridge until he was over the squad draconians. There were six of the big brutes, all heavily armed and clad in crude black tunics. They turned their reptilian heads upward to glare at the dragon.
He chuckled to himself, a sound Sara always found disconcerting. Forewarned, she tucked her seat deeper into the saddle, wrapped her hands around the leather of the padded horn, and leaned forward. Cobalt suddenly snapped in his wings and dived straight for the draconians.
Their mouths fell open to reveal yellow, snaggled teeth, then surprise turned to fear, and they stood rooted to the ground as the dragon plummeted toward them. The blue sent a blast of dragon lightning scorching into the ground beside them. The draconians suddenly found their feet and scattered in all directions. As skillfully as an eagle, Cobalt swept over their heads, altered his wing angle, and pulled up into a smooth ascent.
Sara's head snapped back from the force of his turn. Bemused, she rubbed her neck while he spiraled upward. She would have bet any number of steel coins he was grinning.
Satisfied with himself, Cobalt veered back toward Neraka and all at once came snout to snout with three suspicious dragons. Three more quickly circled behind him and effectively cut off any escape. Three of the blues carried helmed riders—knights, by the look of their armor. They waved lances at Sara and gestured fiercely toward the city.
Sara and Cobalt understood the message. Meek now, the blue dragon followed their escort into the valley and winged downward toward the approaches to the teeming st
reets of Neraka.
10
The dragon escorts led Cobalt to the broad, open field in front of the main gate and landed on either side of him their stance threatening, their yellow eyes hooded in suspicious stares.
Two of the three riders slid off their mounts and strode with wary purpose toward Sara.
Sara closed her eyes for just a heartbeat, a silent prayer on her lips. She had no idea if any god or immortal being could hear her, but this time she did not care if it seemed foolish to pray to an empty firmament. She had to put her hopes and fears into some form of expression that let her soul reach out beyond her own limitations to something more potent, more powerful than she. She would command her own actions and decisions, but if some deity wanted to throw a little luck her way, she just wanted him to know she would be grateful.
She then swallowed once to sooth the dryness in her throat and slid off Cobalt to the parched, hard-packed ground.
The two knights stopped in front of her. Their hands rested on their sword hilts. Their armor gleamed from hours of careful polishing; their weapons were honed and in good repair, and their boots were new.
Sara felt her stomach lurch from a flash of memory that exploded in her mind like a crack of lightning; two knights, wearing armor decorated with the skull and the lily of Takhisis, walking up the path to her house—Lord Ariakan and his guard coming to take her son away.
Sara stiffened her back and saluted with a mix of feigned arrogance and stifled hatred. "I would like to see your commander," she demanded before the other two could say a word.
They exchanged a glance. Their gaze slid to Cobalt, then back to Sara, their eyes unreadable behind their own helms.
"Your sword, please," one ordered.
Sara handed it over grudgingly. "Take care of it."
"This way." The man indicated the main gate with a gloved hand.
Legacy of Steel Page 8