Dragon Choir

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by Benjamin Descovich


  “Human, come forward.” The man in purple robes beckoned Elrin closer. “Does this shankakin speak the truth?”

  “Does an army approach?” asked the akiri.

  “Do they seek our hoard?” asked the muden.

  Elrin walked before the choir, summoning all his courage to speak. “They do come and they are many. They have black powder and the biggest ships I have ever seen. We helped another, the pirate Kobb, to face them in battle.”

  The undanae sneered. “Indeed. Our little parasite uses black powder also, does he not? We’ve allowed him to float in the sanctuary and prey on those who venture too close to our islands. He knows what not to touch and when to leave, and so he is tolerated.”

  “Our desire is to end slavery. The Jandans trade slaves for black powder with Calimska. Kobb would do this too if he defeats the Jandan armada. He would be the only power over the sea.”

  Smooth delight grew across the elven battle maiden’s face. “So, you wish them both crushed. If either wins, you lose. What better than the might of dragons to foil your enemies?”

  “We thought the choir was a device to use, to call dragons here. We didn’t come here to offend you with demands. If we had known ... We should have known.” Elrin wondered if he would have been brave enough to seek out the choir, if he had.

  “Your words speak true,” said the akiri. “And yet, you desire more.”

  “He covets our hoard!” roared the orc.

  “No! I don’t.”

  “Truly?” The undanae produced a sack and tossed it at Elrin’s feet. Treasure spilt across stone. “You don’t lust after gold and silver? You’re Calimskan, yes?”

  “Yes, but I—”

  The orc slammed her fist on the arm of her throne. “As I say, they come for our hoard. At the end of this battle they will plunder our birthright.”

  Elrin was insignificant. They twisted his words and ground him down. He gripped at his dagger, searching for strength. “I didn’t come here for your treasure! And neither did they.”

  “You set yourself apart from them.” The man in purple bore through him, burrowing in his mind. “Your desire flows from a different stream, yet meets the same river. Why did you come here?”

  “I was sent to seek your aid to help my father.”

  The undanae chuckled. “What is it? Gambling debts? Is Papa locked up in some dungeon ready for the axe?”

  “I don’t know where he is.”

  The muden croaked with laughter. “This is ridiculous.”

  The man in purple ignored his fellows’ amusements. “Who is your father?”

  “He’s a famous adventurer from the coast, he—” Elrin cut himself short when he saw Delik’s face wrinkle in disapproval. If the shankakin had never heard of his father then why would these dragons know or care of his exploits.

  The Akiri leant forward, probing Elrin’s hesitation with avian eyes. “Reveal not what he does, but who he is. Speak his name.”

  “Arbajkha.”

  A moment of emptiness engulfed the cavern, a drop of vacant time fell before his father’s name exploded into chaos amongst the choir.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Advance the Armada

  Uighara wrapped the last of the rations and placed them in his pack, pulling the drawstring tight. He wished for a stronger back to carry more, then thought better of it. Brawn was its own burden. The Good Lord’s gifts would supply him with all he needed. They had delivered him thus far and tomorrow they would crown him in the glory he so rightly deserved.

  Fatigue weighed on his eyelids. He sat in his hammock, mentally ticking off the day’s preparations, rubbing his forehead to relax. His brothers in the Lord knew the ritual and while their part was simple, if a few of them faltered, their sacrifice would only please the Lord more. The clear weather had been a blessing and the pontoons were taking the journey well. All was in order. It was time to rest.

  Just as he rose and blew out the flame in his lantern, the familiar rattle of sacrificial bones caught his ear. A faint yellow glow danced with two metacarpals upon the blackstone at his desk.

  Uighara placed his hands on the stone. “Almighty Lord, receive this sacrifice and bless this communion.”

  “I know what you are up to,” said his father. The leagues between them were no security against the scolding his tone implied.

  Uighara tensed. “You shouldn’t be using this.”

  “You should have contacted me when your feet touched land.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “You lied.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m not blind, I have eyes in the High Temple.”

  “Are mine no longer good enough?”

  “Explain yourself!”

  “I already have. The plan is unaltered. Their net will fail.”

  “Why did my agent detect a jump just before you arrived, thumping your pious stick on the wasps nest?”

  “The inferior batch was hijacked by rebels, as was I. I got away and jumped back to my ... to a net I had prepared as a contingency. I had to use the untainted powder.”

  “So the net under the High Temple does work.”

  “To some extent, yes, but it is flawed.”

  “Yet, my agent tells me it is not. Did you actually think you could get away with pulling the prize from under my nose? You?”

  “Who is your agent to know the difference? Does he have the Lord’s gift or is he a charlatan? There are only two who know the process back to front; you and I.”

  “Don’t bring your god into this.”

  “The Lord is your god too, whether you believe or not. When he returns to his throne, you will bow down before him and ask for redemption.”

  “By Calim, you really believe that nonsense. Where is the proof of their Lord? Does he even have an arse to sit on his fictitious throne?”

  “He will return.”

  “Why? Because some glorified poachers are praying for it? No wonder the Jandans were banished across the ocean. They’re second rate hacks who use religion to justify their inferior magic.”

  “How then do you justify yours?”

  “Don’t give me that! I protect Calimska by whatever means are necessary. I had no choice. You did.”

  Uighara ground his teeth; this argument was without end. Every time it was the same, he couldn’t win.

  Not yet.

  The redeemer held his tongue, and redirected the subject. “So, here we are again, have you got yourself ready yet?”

  “I have, no thanks to you. However, the transition will be problematic. Arbajkha won’t survive the increased strain.”

  “A shame, though it won’t matter. Just supplement the draw from another source.”

  “Don’t you think I know that!” His father’s voice cracked with the retort. It pleased Uighara to know he was so tense.

  The redeemer pressed the advantage. “If you’re not able to capture your own, I’ll have some candidates transported. Did you find the eavesdropper?”

  “No. He was last seen at Rum Hill. If he’s smart he’ll be on his way across the ocean.”

  “He can’t get in the way now.” Sleep weighed down Uighara’s eyelids. “Is that everything?”

  “Don’t cross me, Uighara.”

  “I pay my debts. This will be the last.”

  The ether retracted from his mind. He didn’t bother cleaning the bone dust off the blackstone, just shuffled across the cabin in the dark and dropped into his hammock, letting sleep blanket his weary body.

  ***

  “Last one in’s gotta clean out the bins!”

  Uighara’s cousins ran through the meadow down to the creek. Tep had the lead while Roel and Klana shouldered each other for second place. Uighara bolted after them, through the squelchy patch, under old Dernin’s fence and down through the orchard. He tried to keep up, but they were too fast. He slid down the bank and dove into the cool water. When he came up for air, his cousins were floating face down
surrounded by fish floating belly up.

  Uighara swam to Klana and turned her over, her blue face stared at the green canopy arching over the creek. He dragged her to the bank then went to get Tep and Roel, but they were gone. The creek was low and stagnant. He was covered in mud.

  Zarkas walked through the tea brown sludge, his saucer eyes devoid of his usual aloof cheer. “A deep sleep. Perhaps, too deep, yes?”

  Klana had disappeared too, though the memory of her cold limp body still weighed down his arms. His heart twisted with grief; dredged from the past, yet still as painful as the day he buried it.

  With great effort, Uighara reined in the emotion and narrowed his focus, morphing into his adult self. “It has been a tiring day, you should be pleased. I bring the armada.”

  Zarkas shifted the dreamscape to a cliff top.

  Uighara flinched, taking a quick step away from the edge. Death came just as swift in dreams as it did when conscious.

  “Arbajkha’s son is in the sanctuary,” announced Zarkas, unloading the fact with a gust of wind that buffeted Uighara back to the edge.

  “What? How can that be?”

  “He arrived with Kobb and the rebels.”

  Uighara’s stomach dropped. Could it be the same Calimskan who tried to stab him with a fork? He was man grown, not a boy. How long had it been? Thirteen years? Fourteen?

  With every question Uighara came to realise the depth of his mistake. How could he have been so close and not known; under his very nose and he never thought to ask a name, to make the connection.

  Zarkas’s wide eyes narrowed. “You knew?”

  “No, how could I? I wouldn’t recognise him now.”

  “He has clarity, he sways them. I will delay the debate as long as I can. You must make haste.” Zarkas pointed to the open water between the islands and the caldera. “Advance with everything you have.”

  ***

  The fresh dawn light greeted Pelegrin’s command. Great galleons and frigates, carracks and caravels sailed shoulder to shoulder. Signals flashed between the vessels and the armada fanned out in a battle front thirty ships wide and two deep. Pelegrin ordered twenty more to bolster the centre and flanks. He would not be caught out by an ambush this time.

  From the quarterdeck of the flagship Saint Jan, Pelegrin watched the pirate fleet quiver their way out of the island channels and square up to face him. It was a pathetic sight. Kobb’s prize ship Bone Dancer pranced to the centre of a single line of scrawny caravels and galleys; twelve in all their bravado. There would be more, they had his Juniper, and the galleons they took as prizes. Kobb would have them protecting their hideout or laying in wait to ambush.

  Pelegrin spoke to his solargraph officer. “Advance. Maintain formation.”

  The armada sailed forward, a pride of sails hungry for the hunt. The pirate ships fled, one by one, deserting Kobb in the face of the invincible might of Jando. Only after all his line had left did Kobb wheel Bone Dancer around and flee. Pelegrin didn’t blame him. He would do the same faced with these odds.

  If Kobb wanted him to chase then he would wait. “Halt advance. Await instructions.” The solargrapher wrote the order and transmitted the message to the armada.

  Pelegrin watched the pirates sail into the calm waters between the hoard islands through his spyglass. Just as he had suspected, they slowed and came to rest before losing sight of the armada behind the islands. They weren’t fleeing. They were bait.

  Uighara strode up to the quarterdeck, patting down his dishevelled hair.

  “Ah, Uighara! Glad you could join us. You’ve missed the first manoeuvres I’m afraid.”

  “Why wasn’t I awoken?”

  “I sent for you, but you did not answer your door. The messenger feared you would rather not be disturbed should you be praying for our souls in the coming battle.”

  Uighara pulled his cowl up to shield his eyes from the new morning’s glare. “Yes, that was considerate of him.”

  “Are you ill? You seem out of sorts.”

  “No, there is urgent news from Jando. I have received instructions from the High Priest.”

  “Have you now?”

  “We must advance.”

  “All in good time.”

  “Now!”

  “I am the commanding officer of the armada, not you. I will make that judgement.”

  “The High Priest conveyed that he had a vision.”

  “A vision?”

  “Yes, from the Lord.”

  “The Lord spoke to him directly?”

  “Do you question our most venerable and holy leader?”

  “No, I question you.”

  Uighara stepped close. “See where you stand. You command the armada. Is that not what I promised the Lord wished for you?”

  “Yes, but ...”

  “The Lord has great plans for you. This is the beginning or the end; faith or death. Take my hands and choose for yourself.”

  Pelegrin took Uighara’s hands and was pulled into a dream.

  He commanded the armada to halt and wait it out, probing the island channels and testing for an ambush. He advanced the armada north with caution and discovered the pirate hideout empty. Monstrous shadows circled. The sky clouded with dragons raining fire upon the entire fleet.

  Uighara squeezed his hands, lifting him back to the present. “You must advance with the full force of the armada.”

  He was right. “I will advance with our full force.”

  “The Lord protects the bold and faithful. Use everything he has blessed you with to smite his enemies.”

  “I have faith, I will smite the Good Lord’s enemies.”

  Uighara released Pelegrin’s hands and embraced him. “May faith be your armour, the will of the Lord your sword.”

  The Lord’s arms surrounded Pelegrin with strength. He was chosen to wield the Lord’s armada. He wasn’t going to waste this blessing.

  Pelegrin called to the solargrapher. “Advance full speed north in trident formation.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Protection

  The ancient dragons wrestled in an intense debate. A strange field had wrapped around the companions, distorting sound and warping light. Elrin’s senses were skinned and pulled inside out, altering the landscape of understanding. It was impossible to penetrate any meaning. Only the memories of times past had real substance. The dragons had warped the weave, stitching him into an inescapable, incomprehensible pocket of incapability.

  Time bent around them, a moment was at once an age. When an understanding of the present finally emerged in Elrin’s consciousness, his legs were weak from standing. Against dry eyes, a parched mouth and a stomach that ached for food, Elrin battled to recover his senses.

  Jaspa fell to his knees, exhausted. “What did they do to us?”

  Delik helped Jaspa back to his feet, his own legs struggling with the effort. “If they bothered to tell us, it would make no sense.”

  Hurn rested on his knees and his stomach growled like a tiger. “We here long? Have we missed battle?”

  The unified voice of the choir tolled.

  Silence. We have chosen the path ahead.

  The companions were compelled to cease their questions and bear witness to the choir’s decision.

  The akiri rose from his throne, clutching his spear in his clawed hands. “I shall remain to defend our sanctuary and the innocents within from the aggressors.”

  The muden stood and thumped the butt of her trident down. “I shall also remain to guard our sanctuary and protect those who did not choose this battle. When the aggressors have been dealt with, those who remain must depart. Neither have any place here. We have grown lazy, leaving others to defend our hoard.”

  The elven warrior stood beside the man in purple robes, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We shall join you in battle. Your cause to end slavery is just. We will secure the birthright of our kin and punish the aggressors. We will aid Arbajkha when the sanctuary is secure.”

&
nbsp; “Now we must go,” said the man in purple. “The time is upon us.”

  “I am Tetula,” said the elf warrior. She motioned to the man in purple. “This is Qarim.” Next, she motioned to the akiri, stretching his wings. “That is Wyggen.” The muden approached, her soft speckled skin shining with moisture. “And this is Obst.”

  The undanae and the orc left their thrones, throwing foul looks at their fellows before disappearing behind the column.

  Elrin listened to the sound of claws scrapping down stone and great wings flapping. “What of the others?”

  “Zarkas and Goranuk will keep the vigil,” said Obst, dripping water. “They do not see any advantage to helping you. They will hold until it is time to sing the return.”

  “Each of you will ride into this battle with us,” said Tetula, her polished armour catching the light like a sunrise over the sea. “You do not command us like pets to face your enemies. You will suffer this battle just as we do, in a common cause.”

  Wyggen handed his spear to Hurn. “Take this and defend the innocent with your life.”

  Obst passed his trident to Jaspa. “Ready yourself to repel any who threaten our sanctuary.”

  Qarim hung an amulet around Delik’s neck. “This will shield you from the storm you summoned.”

  Tetula unsheathed her sword and held it before Elrin. “Show me the weapon you carry.”

  Elrin pulled the dagger from his belt and held it next to Tetula’s elegantly inscribed, exotic sabre. The same foreign symbols were etched across the gentle curve of both blades, their hilts were of the same design, each pommel held a stone as black as the abyss. The arcane sigils on both weapons pulsed, as if in recognition of each other’s presence, two long lost friends united again.

  “Is it yours? Did my father take it from you?”

  “No.” Tetula’s face softened, her eyes moist. “It was given.”

  “You knew my father?”

  Obst chuckled. “How could we not?”

  Elrin was ready to burst with questions. “Then you’ll help me find him?”

 

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