Akiri: Dragonbane

by Brian D. Anderson

  “You were asking about Yarrow,” said Dema. “I first heard rumors of his evil a year ago – unbelievable stories of the dead walking among the living and human sacrifice. Not that I believed a word of it. I mean, who would? But then I saw it for myself.”

  “You saw the dead walking?”

  Dema nodded. “It was just after the spring last year. I was on my way to Avaria when I ran across an old cemetery. Half the graves were churned up. I figured it to be grave robbers. I was even going to report it to the magistrate. But just as the sun began to set on the mausoleums, I saw it. At first I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. Those dead eyes and the way it stumbled with each step.” He shuddered. “Scared poor Hayes out of his wits.”

  “It didn’t attack you?”

  “No, thank Mishna. It just wandered off into the night. After it left, we packed the wagon and got the hell out of there.”

  “And Yarrow. You are sure he’s the one responsible?”

  Dema shrugged. “Yarrow is a legend. I figure it’s someone using the name. Someone wanting to instill fear in the ignorant. The stories say he was seeking immortality. But you never know, perhaps he actually found it.”

  “Where can I find him?”

  “Why would you want to?”

  “That is my business.”

  They rounded the corner to the street where the wagon and ox were stabled. Dema scrutinized Akiri, looking him up and down several times before he finally said, “I don’t know where he is. No one does. But I can point you in the right direction if you really are intent on getting yourself killed.” He stopped short and met Akiri’s eyes. “Is that who you’re looking for here?” The fear in his voice was unmistakable.

  “I don’t know. It’s possible.”

  “And you intend to kill him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you are either a fool or the bravest man I’ve ever met.”

  They continued until they reached an inn at the corner of the next street, where Dema secured him a room. Akiri unpacked his belongings and then decided to head out and mingle amongst the locals rather than just take the merchant at his word.

  He asked the same question again and again: Have you seen anything strange?

  “Only you,” said one inebriated man.

  A few mentioned seeing Kyra, but aside from that, no one had seen or heard anything worth noting. No walking dead, no mysterious robed figures. Eventually, Akiri gave up and returned to the inn for the night. He lay on the bed, still fully clothed, hands clasped behind his head while he stared up at the ceiling pondering his options. There wasn’t much he could do. It was either find him here or track Yarrow back to his lair. And it didn’t look like he was here to be found – which meant taking the fight to him.

  Eight

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Dema did a steady trade for the next two days, each evening returning to the inn within minutes of sundown. He kept himself in the thick of it, always with several people. Akiri assumed this was to avoid any further confrontation with Ushton Malor. Akiri didn’t waste a minute of the time he had to himself, making inquiries with both citizens and guards, describing the man he now assumed was Yarrow, but kept coming up against the same blank stares and denials. No one had seen anything untoward. No one had heard anything or noted anything worth remarking on. Life in town, if they were to be believed, was the same bland, flavorless life it always had been. The only thing anyone wanted to talk about was the dragon that had been spotted over the lake. Kyra’s fame spread quickly. It wasn’t long before everyone seemed to be walking around with their face turned to the sky in the hope – or fear – of catching a glimpse of her. Like it or not, Yarrow had either slipped away or was so adept at hiding the truth of his nature that he blended in seamlessly with his neighbors.

  A few had heard tell of an evil rising to the east. But it was only ever something vague. A stirring. Disquiet. A change in the atmosphere. A friend of a friend had heard something. A cousin’s neighbor had seen something. All anecdotal. No one had firsthand experience of anything. He met three people who claimed to have heard the name Yarrow. Three out of an entire town. And not one of them had anything useful to add to what he already knew. It was dispiriting. By sunrise on the morning of their departure, Akiri was gripped by a sense of urgency that would not recede; every second spent in the lake town was time wasted. He wanted to be moving before the trail cooled.

  Dema was in high spirits as he climbed into the wagon. Hayes, on the other hand, wasn’t. He didn’t manage much more than a grunt as he took up his place. They rode through the streets together in silence for a while, and then Hayes decided he wanted to stretch his legs, so he hopped down from the bench seat and walked alongside the cart for a while. Akiri joined him and they slowed to drop behind a few yards. The gates were open when they reached them. Thinking they were out of earshot, Hayes said flatly, “One day that idiot is going to push things too far and no one will be there to save his hide.”

  Dema obviously heard him and burst out laughing. “Ah, dear boy, think how dull your life would be without me in it to make it interesting.”

  Hayes scowled.

  As they were passing through the gate, one of the two town guards approached and held up his hand to stall them.

  “Are you Akiri?”

  This couldn’t be good, he thought. “I am.”

  “You need to come with us.”

  “Why?” he asked, not unreasonably, but with an edge of steel to his tone.

  “My friend has broken no laws,” Dema quickly interjected.

  “No, no, of course not. He isn’t under arrest,” the guard said. “I was merely told to fetch him.”

  “By whom?”

  “The dock master.”

  “Hayes, go with him,” said Dema.

  “There’s no need,” said Akiri. “I’ll catch up with you.”

  “If you’re sure…”

  He nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

  The merchant nodded in return, glancing at the guard with a worried expression.

  Akiri followed the two men through the town to the rear gate, where he’d first tried to enter. The market outside the palisade was in full swing. He noted that the docks were empty save for a single boat.

  “Do you know who that belongs to?”

  “No idea,” the guard replied, without even looking. “You could ask the dock master when you’re finished, if you’re that curious.” The guard pointed to a building at the far end of the walkway. Standing with a weather-worn older man with a thick gray beard and arms like hawsers was Seyla.

  Akiri let out an involuntary sigh as he approached the fisherman.

  “So, do you know the boy?”

  “I do.”

  A woman wearing a plaid dress, her salt and pepper hair tied back in a loose braid, emerged from the building. She waved the guards away and turned her attention to Akiri.

  “He says he’s looking for you,” she said. “Marl here found him trying to cross the lake on a homemade raft this morning.”

  “What the hell were you thinking, boy?” scolded Akiri.

  Seyla refuse to speak or meet his eyes.

  Akiri knelt and grabbed him roughly by the shoulders. “Answer me. What are you doing here? What happened?”

  “I…the monks,” he said finally. “They were scared of me. Even Julla was. I heard them whispering about what happened… They said it was all my fault.”

  “So, you thought to follow me?” He shook his head. “You could have gotten yourself killed.”

  Seyla looked up defiantly despite the tears welling in his eyes. He puffed out his chest and glared at Akiri. “I can take care of myself.”

  “You will take responsibility for him,” the woman said. It wasn’t a question.

  Akiri blew out an exasperated breath. “Do I have a choice?”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think so. He will be safe with me.” He would have words with the monks upon his return. “Are
you the dock master?”

  “I am.”

  “That boat” – he gestured with a hooked thumb – “Do you know who owns it?”

  “I assumed it was yours. But the guards told me you were the one who left that wreck on my shore. It’s firewood now, in case you’re interested.”

  He took Seyla’s hand. “Come on, boy.”

  Seyla followed without complaint. Dema and Hayes were only a few minutes beyond the gate.

  The merchant frowned when her saw them. “You’re bringing a child?”

  Akiri grumbled a curse and lifted Seyla into the seat beside Dema. “Not by choice.”

  Hayes said nothing.

  Akiri felt the gold in his pouch. He would need to find somewhere for Seyla, and he was running out of coin. He felt Kyra’s reassuring presence nearby. She was hungry. He wasn’t surprised; she had scarcely left the sky for two days straight. The exertion was taking its toll. Hunt, he told her through their connection. I will call you when I need you. He felt a pulse of reluctance fill his mind, but he fended it off with reassuring thoughts. I will not face danger alone. It was an oath he had to swear before she would leave them.

  “You’re talking to Kyra, aren’t you?” asked Seyla.

  Akiri raised an eyebrow. “And how do you know that?”

  The boy shrugged. “I just felt like you were.”

  “Talking to who?” asked Dema.

  “His dragon,” the boy said somberly. “They talk to each other in their heads. But sometimes he speaks to her, too. Out loud. I don’t think he realizes he does.”

  “Is that right, now? You can communicate with the beast?”

  “I can,” Akiri replied. “Though it is difficult to explain. But we do communicate.”

  “Fascinating,” remarked Dema. “I’ve heard tales of dragons. My father used to tell these fanciful stories of great men – dragon lords – riding them into battle. But I never considered that they might be any more intelligent than my ox.”

  “She is,” Akiri confirmed. “Although just how intelligent is hard to say. Kyra is young. What her potential might be, I don’t know.”

  “But the beast belongs to you, yes?”

  Akiri didn’t like it when people referred to Kyra as a beast. “She is my friend. I trust her with my life. But I do not own her. She is free to do as she pleases.” Akiri’s mind turned to the poor dragons in the east; wings bound and necks collared. A rush of anger surged, but he quickly dismissed it. The bond he shared with Kyra made it difficult at times to remember that to most humans, dragons were animals. Dangerous and beautiful, yes. But animals still.

  “I would very much like to see her.”

  “Kyra is hunting.”

  “I saw her when Uncle Akiri brought me to the monastery,” Seyla chimed in.

  Dema gave Akiri a sideways look. “The monastery? You mean the one atop Soul’s Peak?”

  “The boy’s village was attacked,” said Akiri, before Seyla could continue. “I had left him there until I could sort it out.”

  The merchant was no fool; he tied the threads together quickly. “And you think it was Yarrow?”

  “I don’t know. That’s what I intend to find out.”

  The landscape was flat and dotted with small patches of trees and brambles, though off to the distance in the south was a long wall of forest. By the time the wood ramparts was were long gone from sight, they were passing a few small farmsteads. The fields were bare.

  “We’re heading to one of the larger townships in the area, on the edge of a vast marshland,” said Dema. “That’s where we will part ways. My road doesn’t involve going all the way to the necromancer’s door.”

  Akiri could hardly blame him.

  He would need to figure out what to do with Seyla. Taking a child along on the road wasn’t just stupid, it was dangerous. He could not contend with someone capable of raising the dead with the boy hanging around getting in the way. It would be the death of both of them. But he could hardly turn around and drag him back to the monastery, either.

  Worse, of course, was the fact that the boy was now away from whatever concealment spells the monks had woven. This could make stealth impossible.

  Seyla looked content sitting beside Dema. It was hard to remember that he was just a boy whose father had essentially died twice, the second time before his very eyes and at the hands of his best friend. The merchant’s frown soon had vanished and he even appeared to enjoy the company and began telling tall tales for Seyla’s enjoyment. Akiri half-listened as the man spun yarns of magical lands and faraway wonders, all of which were almost certainly untrue, but had the boy captivated nonetheless.

  Akiri caught a brief flurry of movement behind a stand of oaks. Hayes saw it, too. He didn’t hesitate; he rushed ahead of the wagon. Akiri set off after him. Hayes carried a small dagger, and Akiri had no doubt the man knew how to use it. Dema continued talking to Seyla, giving no indication he had sensed the trouble about to close in around them, until Ushton Malor and the same three cronies who had been with him in the tavern stepped into the road.

  Dema drew back on the reins and the wagon came to a halt.

  “This doesn’t concern you, stranger, nor you, Hayes. All I want is justice,” Ushton said. “A life for a life. The merchant for my brother. The rest of you are free to go.”

  “I’m going to give you one chance to turn around and walk away,” Akiri said, the absolute calm in his voice chilling. “If you persist, your wives will be burying their men and your children mourning their fathers.”

  Akiri drew his steel.

  “You would die for this pig of a man?”

  “No,” Akiri replied. “But you certainly will. You and your comrades are not warriors. Whereas I have fought many battles.”

  “You think to frighten me, dog?” spat Ushton.

  “No. Only to give you fair warning. I have no desire to take your life. But I will.”

  “Please,” Dema interjected. “Ushton, I’ve said I am sorry. Surely we can settle this like civilized people? I have coin. Would twenty gold satisfy your lust for vengeance?”

  “You think you can buy your way out of this? My brother is dead. No amount of gold will bring him back.”

  “Neither will your blood,” Akiri told him. “Take the offer and live. Nothing is served by this. Your brother is dead and vengeance is beyond your reach for now. You need to accept it.”

  Akiri recognized the fury and pain in the fisherman’s eyes. His heart was set on a single purpose. This was going to end badly, no matter what Akiri said to him. It was a pity Kyra was not nearby, he thought. The sight of her might have been enough to frighten them into running.

  “Forty gold, then,” Dema countered.

  That was a substantial amount. Probably more than Ushton made in six months of fishing. Any sane man would accept it.

  Akiri could see that the men at Ushton’s back were wavering. It wasn’t their brother who was in the ground. One of them rested a hand on Ushton’s shoulder. “Maybe we should just take the gold. After the loss of the catch and the cost of new nets…”

  “Have you no honor?” roared Ushton, jerking away. “Your cousin is dead because of this bastard’s lies. He saved your life, unless you have forgotten.”

  “I haven’t forgotten. But forty gold…”

  “A hundred gold will not save him, you hear me? My brother will have justice.”

  “Then how much is a life worth?” Dema said, unthinkingly. The tightness in his face said that he regretted his words.

  Ushton glared at Dema, at his own man, and eventually down at the ground. “You cowardly piece of shit. Fine. Do as you please. Take this whoreson’s money. I won’t let my brother’s death go unanswered.”

  The man tried to grab Ushton’s arm, but he wrenched himself free and charged at the wagon, his rust-pitted sword held high.

  Hayes moved in to intercept him, but Akiri stepped in his path.

  The other three men had not moved. They didn’t da
re so much as breathe. The air around them was heavy with pent up violence waiting to explode all around them.

  Akiri easily blocked the attack and sent an iron fist crashing into Ushton Malor’s jaw. It was a hammer blow. The sheer force of it poleaxed him. He stiffened and fell, unconscious long before his head hit the ground.

  Akiri had just saved his life; not that Ushton would thank him for it. He stood silently and motionless, eyes fixed on the remaining men. But the speed and power Akiri had displayed was enough to keep them at bay.

  “Take your kinsman and go,” said Akiri. “Do not look back. Do not turn around. And do not allow him to follow once he awakens. I will not be as merciful again.” He looked back to the wagon. “Give them the gold you promised, Dema.”

  There was a long pause before the men sheathed their weapons. They dragged Ushton’s body from the road while Dema fumbled with his purse, counting out forty gold pieces. He gave them to Akiri.

  “Make it fifty,” Akiri said, much to the merchant’s horror. “That’s how much a life is worth where I am from.” Fifty gold and a horse was actually the traditional compensation in Acharia. But as they had no horse to offer, it would have to suffice.

  He did as he was told, counting out ten more.

  Akiri in turn handed the coins over to one of the cousins. “You might want to bind him, lest his anger lead him to follow us.”

  The man nodded.

  “Even so, we should be well on our way before he wakes up,” remarked Hayes.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Dema said.

  As they pulled away, Akiri noticed the look of confusion on Seyla’s face. “What is it?” he asked.

  “I don’t understand. Why didn’t you just kill him?”

  “He did not deserve to die, boy. And a warrior does not kill without reason. Ushton was blinded by grief. He sought, what in his mind, was justice. I can find no fault in that.” He glanced up at Dema with cold eyes. “And one could argue that he was right to seek it.”

  Dema wilted under Akiri’s stare. “It’s not my fault his brother died. Accidents happen on the lake all the time. Three fishermen died last year. Two so far since the thaw.” He looked back to where the cousins were binding Ushton’s wrists and frowned. “Of course, there’s every chance fifty gold won’t buy him off forever. I suppose I won’t be returning any time soon.”