Bard's Oath (Dragonlord)

by Joanne Bertin

  What he found sent him out of the door in a rush. He’d take his chances with the lightning. Linden crouched beneath a small pine tree to wait out the storm. He’d been a soldier, but what was in the hut …

  Linden breathed a prayer for the souls that had died here.

  Fifty-nine

  “It’s getting lighter ahead. I think it’s a clearing,” Kaeliss whispered over her shoulder.

  They paused at the edge of it and huddled together, looking carefully around. The clearing was big, much larger than any other they’d come across with what looked like a tumbledown hut at one end. The thought of crossing that much open space made Pod’s skin crawl.

  A crow’s harsh “Caw!” made her whip around. To her horror, she saw Arlim perhaps a hundred paces away, trying to push his way through a brier tangle to get at them. The long blade of his knife gleamed dully in the grey light.

  “He’s back!” Pod shrieked.

  The girls ran as hard as they could across the clearing, the madman’s curses following. As they plunged into the forest on the other side, the skies opened and rain pelted down. Half-blinded by the pouring rain and frantic to put as much distance as possible between themselves and Arlim, they ran heedlessly. And as they ran, Pod noticed that the underbrush grew thicker and thicker. Luckily there always seemed to be a way open; if they’d had to push through the thickets they might well have gotten caught in a bramble patch as Arlim had. They were soaking wet, shivering with cold and exhaustion, when the path they followed led them to another clearing.

  While not as large as the one with the small hut, it was unnaturally even, an open circle in the middle of the forest. And where there should have been grass or cloudberry or something green growing there, the ground was instead covered by small, evil-looking mushrooms of a leprous grey.

  But even the mushrooms kept their distance from the large stump that squatted in the center. Aside from piles of sawdust here and there, the ground was bare; nothing grew there, not even the tiniest patch of moss.

  As if they’re afraid to get too close.… Pod shook her head at the odd thought. She knew one thing: she was not going to enter that clearing. Nothing could make her.

  “Now why in the name of all the gods would someone cut down a single tree in the middle of a forest?” Kaeliss muttered. “That’s not how timber is—”

  A flash of lightning split the sky and a massive thunderclap drowned out the rest of her words. A sudden strong wind set the trees around them swaying, their leaves rustling with a sound like far-off whispers.

  Prickles of fear snaked down Pod’s spine. Then came a sound like stones rattling the branches overhead.

  She looked up. Something smacked her cheek just below one eye. “Ow!” she cried. Tears filled her eyes. “Get down!”

  They huddled together while the storm raged overhead and the rain pelted down, holding their packs over their heads to protect themselves as much as possible from the stinging rain.

  In a momentary lull in the thunder, they heard something crashing into the bushes behind them. Kaeliss screamed and ran into the clearing, shrieking, “It’s him! It’s him!

  Pod followed Kaeliss across the stump’s clearing without thinking. She cast a look behind her, fearing to see Arlim. Instead, she saw a big, freshly broken branch dangling from a tree. As she watched, the last shreds of bark holding it on gave way and the branch fell with a noise like a horse crashing through the undergrowth.

  Before she could call out to Kaeliss to stop, the other girl slipped on the wet, slimy mushrooms and slammed to the ground. Her pack burst open when it hit the ground, scattering the blossoms and roots of King’s Blood everywhere. The red flowers looked like drops of blood against the mushrooms.

  “Oh no! I’ve got to—” Kaeliss’s words died in a moan of pain. She clutched her arm, then gasped, “Where’s Arlim?”

  “It was just a branch falling.” Pod knelt and gently examined the arm. “This might be broken or just badly sprained. I can’t tell. Either way we need to splint it, but we can’t do anything about it just now,” she said. “You must have landed on it just wrong. I’ll help you up.”

  “Get the King’s Blood first. Too many lives depend on it.” Kaeliss moaned again.

  It was the last thing Pod wanted to do. But the other girl was right, and Fiarin had died for the sake of these plants. She scooped them up and packed them away again as fast as she could. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to get away from this place now!

  At last she was done. With Kaeliss leaning heavily against her, Pod led the way across the clearing. Something about the stump frightened her and she gave it as wide a berth as she could.

  It seemed to take forever but at last they were into the woods on the other side. Pod needed all her strength to force a way through the underbrush. It was as if the woods were determined to keep them in the clearing. Whichever way she turned there were thickets of brambles whose thorns caught at them, snagged deep into their clothing, held them back. They had to fight desperately for every finger-length of progress. Their only reprieve was that the rain ended at some point in their nightmare journey.

  At last they had to stop. Kaeliss sank down, her face grey with exhaustion and pain, cradling her arm. Looking at her, Pod knew they’d gone as far as they could. If the madman was still after them, it was here they would make their stand.

  But until then, she would do what she could for Kaeliss. Drawing her knife, Pod cut some sticks and smoothed them as much as she could. Using strips cut from the spare tunic from Fiarin’s pack, she quickly fashioned a rough splint and a sling. Then she found two long, sturdy sticks and began whittling one to a point.

  “If he comes here, jab at him as best you can,” Pod said. “Until then, rest as much as you can. I’ll take first watch.”

  Kaeliss silently nodded. Moving carefully, she lay down, head pillowed on her pack. Soon she was fast asleep.

  Pod dropped the first stick next to Kaeliss and began work on the second. Pathetic as these “spears” were, at least they were weapons of a sort.

  And something—anything!—is better than nothing, she grimly told herself. If only Kiga was here.… Hot tears filled her eyes. She wiped them away; the last thing they needed was for her to slice her hand open because she couldn’t see straight.

  With each stroke of the knife, with each sliver that fell away, Pod thought over and over, Kiga, stop hunting and find me! Stop hunting and find me!

  When she was done, she set the spear down next to her, then pulled up her knees, rested her head against them, and cried. Even as she realized that sitting still was a mistake, exhaustion swept over her and she fell asleep.

  It was the rattle of leaves that woke her some time later. Pod lifted her head and rubbed her bleary eyes. “Kiga?” she whispered.

  Kaeliss sat up. “Oh, thank the gods he’s back!”

  “Yes, I am,” a soft voice said. Arlim’s face leered at them through the branches and he laughed, low and chilling.

  Sixty

  It seemed a lifetime, but was likely less than a candlemark later that the worst of the storm passed. He listened as the thunder retreated, then slipped out from beneath the pine tree.

  It was still raining, but he was running out of time. Remembering the “brightness” he’d felt earlier, Linden stretched out his senses. Everything else in this forest was tainted, but not that. Who could it be? Was it someone that could help him?

  But to his disappointment, he felt nothing but the evil that seemed to permeate everything here. Sighing, he walked quickly to the center of the clearing. Turning his face up to the rain, he let himself flow into Change.

  Moments later, a large, red dragon crouched in the clearing, hind legs tensed. A mighty leap, and Linden beat the air with his wings, fighting to clear the treetops. With the rain streaming from his wings, Linden once more began to search.

  Candlemarks passed as Linden flew over a new part of the forest. It was far larger than he’d thought it wo
uld be and try as he might, he could not pinpoint the source of the evil. He was desperate now; he had to find that witch spruce. If his theory about the wood in Leet’s harp was correct, Raven had a chance. But without that proof, the younger Yerrin would hang, and time was running out.

  And still nothing. Linden cursed and dug deeper—dangerously so—into the magic that bound the two halves of his soul together. Any more and he feared he would wake Rathan, the dragon half of his soul.

  Just as he feared it was all for naught, he felt that elusive spark again. It came and went, first flaring brightly, then dwindling so that he feared to lose it. Whoever it was, it burned bright and pure, and like nothing he’d ever touched before.

  Not knowing what else to do, Linden waited for one of the “flares” and sideslipped through the air toward it. To his frustration, it died down once more as he neared it. Then he found it again, but in a different place, as if whoever made it was moving through the forest. Once more he followed, losing it, finding it, losing it again as it zigged and zagged seemingly at random.

  The sun slipped lower in the sky. He peered through breaks in the trees, but could see nothing of his quarry, and whoever it was avoided the few clearings below.

  Once more it disappeared. Linden cursed long and hard in his mind; he wanted to howl his frustration, but didn’t want to terrify whoever was below. The roar of an angry dragon was a fearful thing to hear.

  Then, just as he thought he’d lost it for good, the spark returned.

  Who are you? Linden asked, seeking the other’s mind.

  What he found astonished him: no thoughts, no words, just a welter of swirling emotions and fierce, driving instincts.

  An animal? The realization so shocked him that for a moment he forgot he was supposed to be flying. An instant later he spread his wings once more, catching himself just in time. What in Gifnu’s hells kind of animal could it be?

  There was no sort of animal he’d ever heard of that felt so … intelligent, was the best he could think of. So very aware of itself. Linden made one last effort to reach it, extending his magic to the limit, opening his mind as far as he could.

  He touched the mind below him and held the contact; at the same time, he “heard” in his mind faint words, as if of a far-off echo.

  Stop hunting! Come to me! The fear and longing and desolation behind those words tore at him.

  Once more the spark below flared, this time so bright that Linden caught his breath at it. A love so pure that it could put many a truehuman to shame, a desperation to stand once more by the side of …

  Of its person, Linden realized. Gods have mercy, I think that’s a brother-in-fur down there.

  At once the spark ceased its random wanderings and raced, arrow-straight, through the forest. Somehow, when he’d stretched his mind to the animal below, he must have acted as a link between a familiar and its Beast Healer.

  What, by all the gods, is a Beast Healer doing here? he wondered. And why is his familiar so far away that he couldn’t call it back? All Linden could think was that the Beast Healer was injured or ill.

  He turned in the air to follow. As much as he needed to help Raven, this might be a matter of life or death to another. Perhaps the Beast Healer was no more than lost, but he would not leave someone in this forest of evil.

  The trees were still too thick for him to see what he followed, but he had no difficulty now, the spark burned so steadily and bright. Whatever it was, judging by the speed it made, it was certainly larger than a cat. It wasn’t, he thought, a horse. There was too much underbrush for something so large to move so quickly, and he was certain that if it had been near that size, he would have seen it through gaps in the branches.

  Then he remembered the fierceness of the mind he’d touched. No, this was no eater of grass. A dog or a wolf was his best guess.

  From his vantage point, Linden saw that his invisible guide was leading him toward the ruins of Worton and the section of the forest he’d deemed unlikely to hold Gull’s remains. Once this is done, I’ll work out from there to continue searching, he thought with resignation, certain now that he’d never find the witch spruce in time, but refusing to give in to despair. He’d search until the last moment.

  Ahead of him he could see two small clearings; although they weren’t close to each other, they lay in a line along the course his guide was running. Unless his quarry changed its course, it would pass through the first clearing in a few moments. Linden winged ahead so that he could see the animal when it broke from the cover of the trees.

  Linden caught the barest glimpse of a brown shape as it burst from the trees, hurtled across the little glade, and disappeared once more. He snorted in surprise, smoke curling from his nostrils. What on earth had that been?

  No dog or wolf; that he was certain of. Its shape and long fur, and the way it moved, were wrong. He would have said small bear, but not with a tail that long.

  He cursed when he finally identified the creature: a ghulon, one of the fierce, solitary predators that made their home in deep woods. He hadn’t been chasing a brother-in-fur; he’d been wasting time following a wild animal.

  You fool. You’re so desperate to help someone, anyone, your mind’s playing tricks on you. There’s no Beast Healer out here.

  He tilted on the breeze and turned away from the futile chase.

  Sixty-one

  The two young women jumped up and ran, Kaeliss grunting with pain at every step as she cradled her arm against herself. They grabbed their packs, but only Pod thought to grab her sharpened stick.

  This time the branches and thorns let them pass, but only along one path. Like a giant funnel spider’s web. Pod knew they were being herded, yet they had no choice. Ahead lay hope, however faint it might be. Behind them …

  They came out into the clearing with the wide stump once more. Pod pushed Kaeliss around to the other side of it. Arlim sauntered out of the underbrush like a man who had all the time in the world.

  “Should we try to run through the woods?” Kaeliss whispered.

  “No. I’m certain the woods will hold us here,” Pod whispered back. “Then he’d catch us for certain. This way … maybe he’ll make a mistake.”

  She wished he would try to jump up onto the stump; perhaps she could stab him with her spear as he scrambled across.

  Instead he sidled around. Pod and Kaeliss matched him step for step, always keeping the stump between themselves and the madman.

  Arlim tittered. “Such a charming dance, pretty girls. How long can you keep it up?” He held up his knife and turned it this way and that, making the light flash on the blade. “It would be easier, so much easier, to come to me now. So, so much easier…”

  His voice was soothing as he droned on and on. Pod blinked; to her horror, it was akin to the “voice” that Beast Healers used to calm fractious animals. And now she thought she could hear a melody in it.

  Beside her, Kaeliss came to a stop. Pod told herself she had to fight whatever Arlim was doing. Instead the spear drooped in her hand, then fell from her nerveless fingers.

  With a triumphant howl, Arlim leaped onto the face of the stump, his knife held high. Pod screamed, knowing she’d never reach her spear in time.

  But before Arlim could take that final step and fall upon her, a tremendous roar split the sky above the clearing. She fell to her knees, as did Kaeliss and Arlim, covered her ears, and looked up.

  A red dragon glared down at them, its wings beating furiously to hold it in place. Its head turned so that one glittering eye was fixed on Arlim. It roared once more and Pod cowered from the fury in its voice. Then the dragon tucked in its neck and tail and, to her amazement, folded its wings. It dropped straight down like a stone.

  A red mist enveloped the falling dragon, shrank, and became a man. Pod clapped a hand to her mouth; could even a Dragonlord survive a fall from that height without harm?

  He landed heavily, close to the stump, falling to his hands and knees and shaking his head
as if dazed. A long, blond Yerrin clan braid slipped over his shoulder.

  Arlim launched himself from the stump, landing on the Dragonlord before he could stand. They went down together in a tangle, rolling over and over. Pod saw Arlim’s knife flash as he struck at the Dragonlord.

  A moment later Arlim flew through the air as the Dragonlord heaved him off. He fled into the woods.

  The Dragonlord staggered to his feet and turned to where she stood wide-eyed with Kaeliss. She saw that he favored one leg and that a sleeve of his tunic was slashed.

  As soon as she saw the wine-colored birthmark that spread across his right temple to his eyelid, Pod knew who he was. “Linden Rathan,” she cried out in joy.

  “Pod, you and your friend need to stay here while—” He broke off, staring at the stump. “Oh dear gods—the one place you can’t stay.”

  He cursed under his breath. “Stay here, but as far away from that thing as you can while I hunt—”

  A shrill scream from the woods cut him off. A second scream died in a torrent of snarls. In their turn, the snarls faded into an awful silence.

  Linden Rathan ran a hand through his hair. “It’s over,” he said wearily. “Kiga found him.”

  “Kiga?” Pod asked, hardly daring to believe him.

  “Yes, Kiga. You have him to thank for leading me here. I remembered at the last moment what Conor had told me about your brother-in-fur. I’d thought I’d wasted time following a wild animal.”

  A movement in the underbrush caught Pod’s eye. The branches parted to reveal wild, fury-filled eyes above a snarling, bloodstained muzzle. But the instant that terrifying gaze fell upon her, the rage vanished. Kiga burst from the undergrowth and threw himself at her feet.