“Agreed.” Vila smiled at him – yes, she was glad he hadn’t failed her. “I have already given it some thought. I will go to the forward command and take charge of the scouts. You collect the map then join me in the valley. There is nothing to do but follow the procession if I stay here. And I do not wish to entrust the map or the tunnels to another fool.”
The general took a long, hesitant breath. Scratching his chin, he said, “Yes, I agree we must not trust the map to anyone else, but you shouldn’t risk yourself. I can send Colonel Nezan to the valley.”
Vila resisted the urge to snap at him; he was only doing his job, part of which was protecting her – from herself, as much as from anything else; she knew she could be reckless. Still, she didn’t like him questioning her ideas. Sitting back, she tapped a finger on her lip as she mulled over what was left of her carefully arranged plans. There was nothing to do until the column reached Karan; the likelihood of meeting resistance this side of the border was miniscule. If she stayed, she would be bored; she would likely grow more agitated by the day. No, she needed to be at the front. “Your concern is touching, General, and not unappreciated, but I feel I should be the one to go. Besides, I would be more at risk moving slowly with the precession than flying down to Karan. In fact, I think all the dragons should come with me. We can travel along the coast under cover of darkness, then turn west; hide behind the Karan Ridge for the rest of the way.” Lacing her fingers, she leaned back in the chair and waited for his response – she already knew what he was going to say, but he deserved to have his moment.
“Clouds are coming in from the east, Ma’am,” he said, folding his hands in front of him. “They will cover our flight. If you leave tonight.”
Vila smiled. The general looked pleased. Letting him think he was in control of her movement was no skin off her back. As long as he didn’t try too hard.
She took a long breath. “Then that’s settled; we leave tonight. And may the Gods of the East fly with us.” She raised her goblet to the general.
The matter settled, Turasan shouted to one of the Guards. Vila listened absentmindedly as the general gave the order to put her plan in motion. After a quick salute, the guard scuttled off.
Vila relaxed. She poured a goblet of wine for the general. “So, Ebon, how is your wife? I hear you have another child on the way. Here’s hoping you have a boy this time.” She handed him the goblet of wine.
The general took the wine with a smile on his face and a nod of thanks – it was rare for her to serve anyone a drink. “Thank you, Ma’am. I, too, hope for a boy, though he will be sorely outnumbered.” He laughed as he took a sip of wine.
Vila smiled. “Yes,” she said, “what is it now, six daughters…?
* * *
An hour later, the guard returned and informed them all was ready. Without a word, Vila gathered her personal belongings and followed the escort to the top of the cliffs. Two serving maids, who had been busy packing up her clothes and other larger items, followed.
The dragons stood in line. There were fourteen in all. Six huge Cuis’gaw, with bladed armour, coloured dark green and blue; two Drin, the fastest and smallest, with yellow and orange scales; four Heeras’gaw, dragon killers, experts in aerial combat; and finally, a single Nirad – the “Packhorse,” as some called him – a ninety-foot, vegetarian mule of a dragon. At the end of the line stood Sek the Black, leader of the Toi’gaw.
Despite his position as their leader, Sek was far from the largest. The smallest of the Cuis’gaw was longer by a good two spans. However, Sek was as agile as a Heeras and as strong as any Cuis – a formidable combination, matched only by his brother, Tor’gan.
The sight of the dragons always heartened Vila’slae; they were her greatest prize. Not toys, not like the Kel’madden nobles – those arrogant mongrels were more Kel’mai than Madden: selfish, squabbling men with their petty ambitions. The dragons were majestic: fitting companions. If only she could control more of them, enough to fulfil her plans without the Kel’madden. Of course, there were other dragons under her control: a dozen in Eiras, nineteen more in Toi’ildrieg, but they were either too young or too old to fight. Forty-five dragons in all, which was barely a fifth of the number living on the islands. Oh well, maybe one day.
The dragons lined up ready to depart. Vila walked along the line and nodded to each in turn. They bowed as she passed them by. Even the Drin showed her respect, and they weren’t far beyond feral beasts –not unlike the Raekawn, wild dragons who lived on the northern Toi’ildrieg coast.
Vila’slae glanced beyond the dragons towards the ocean. The water was the colour of dark velvet, barely visible under the cloudy sky. The general was right; there would be plenty of cover for their flight.
Hiding under the cover of darkness annoyed her; she wanted to take her dragons and land them in the square at Bailryn, right in front of the palace. She longed to see Vierdan on his knees. The Royal Court: they’re nothing but a group of inbred opportunists. Amateurs. They have no idea how to rule their own house, never mind a kingdom. I will have their lands. They will bow to me! I’ll show them how a leader should behave.
The huge Nirad stood alone at the end of the narrow path, barely ten spans from the edge of the cliff. He would be the first to take flight. Tied around his immense shoulders was a cabin of sorts. Plush cushioned seats filled the bamboo housing, enough for Vila, the general, two guards and her maids. Her trunk, full of clothes and personal items, was already on board. Vila climbed the roughly made wooden steps and then sat down in the centre chair. Cushions surrounded her. She had done this before; comfortable cabin or not, travelling by Nirad was no smooth ride.
Once the general was set, Vila watched as the Dragon Guards ushered the other dragons into place. They didn’t really need showing; they knew their positions as well as the guards did. The Drin would be her escorts. Sek, once he was airborne, would take the lead – he always did, regardless of what she said. The others would follow, flanking on the Nirad.
Vila tensed her stomach as the mighty Nirad stood and began to walk towards the cliff’s edge – dragons could fly from a running start, but diving off a cliff was preferable. As the occupants of the cabin held their breath – and their supper – the dragon dove off the ledge. A few seconds of freefall… and then the Nirad’s colossal wings caught the air. The beast steadied itself, tipped its wings back, and levelled off. With two whooshing downward beats, he was away, gliding south towards the Karan. The dragon riders would follow the coast but remain at least two leagues out to sea. No one would see them from that distance. Once over the Karan, they would turn west and fly low until they reached the valley north of the Tunnels of Aldregair.
The worst over, Vila sat comfortably, contemplating the days and weeks ahead. This time… this time, Moyathair will be mine!
CHAPTER 2
A Long Way West
Aleban hadn’t complained once; wolves rarely complained about pain, least of all a Rukin Grey. He had hobbled at the rear of his group for three days, walking on the grass verge whenever possible. The road had been hard, baked to a crisp by the seemingly ever-present sun. At least they were getting closer. The steep, winding track from the Raithby River was the first sign they were approaching Illeas’den. The sight of narrow dirt road had lifted his spirits; they were almost there.
Behind them had been three days of dried-out fields and stony ridges, with only the occasional muddy riverbank to soften their footfalls. Resilient wolf or not, Aleban wished there had been more soft ground. Still, their journey would soon be over; a day’s rest and some ease underfoot would see him right… if he could afford to take a day’s rest.
What was he going to do about Toban’s orders? “Bring the Darkin into the fight, Aleban,” was what his Alpha had told him, as if hunting Crenach’coi for the Darkin was like walking to a barn to fetch milk. A visit to the Wolves of Crenach’coi was the last thing Aleban wanted to do. He was no coward, not by any means, but the Darkin! If the rumours w
ere true, they were all but feral, almost twice the size of his Rukin brothers and fiercely territorial.
Toban had told him to take Sarai, the caretaker of the Hall of Wolves, with him to Crenach. A good idea, on the face of it; the caretaker did know Darkin customs. However, all seemed irrelevant when he considered the amount of time which had passed since the two wolf packs had communicated with each other. Time was when the Darkin called the Rukin “Battle Brothers,” a time when the two packs shared a common goal. These Darkin – the mysterious beasts inhabiting the dark woods surrounding the Eurmac Canyon – may not have rituals. And why are they twice the size they once were?
Aleban sighed. There would soon be answers to his questions. Orders were orders and, one way or another, he would discover the truth behind the mystery. He just wished Toban had not expected a miracle to go along with it.
Elspeth turned to him as he eased himself back onto the track. “How are you feeling, Aleban?” she asked.
Aleban knew her sentiment was genuine. She had become very close to the wolves over the past few days, sharing her stories of home and her childhood. Nothing was more personal for a wolf than to tell others of your childhood. Aleban often wondered why the humans were so relaxed about sharing their secrets.
Elspeth had begun to look relaxed in the wilds, sure of herself, competent, more… Rukin-like. The tall Surabhan female was still dressed like a girl from town, a girl off on a hunting trip with her father, but at least she was beginning to carry herself better. Day by day, she became less concerned with keeping up appearances and more willing to embrace the ways of the wolf. She had even tied her long brown hair into a braid, to keep it out of her eyes. Another year or two, she might make a half-decent Rukin.
“I'm fine, Elspeth,” Aleban told her. “No need to worry, I’ll be good as new after a few day’s rest.” He consciously picked his feet up. He could not have her worrying about him. That just would not be right, not with all she had gone through.
“Good. I think we will all be glad for a little rest. It’s been a hard few days… a hard few weeks!” Elspeth hitched up her pack. She gave a surprisingly contented sigh as she looked to the horizon. “How much further to Illeas?”
Aleban looked at the horizon, following the line of the Illeas Ridge to where the crest dipped into the valley. They were close to the northern track. “We’ve made good time. We should be home with some light to spare. You will be sleeping in a good bed tonight; no more bedroll for you – not for a few days, at least. You should spend tomorrow at Illeas’den; have another night’s rest before you start for Albergeddy.”
“Really! You think we should?” Elspeth's eyes widened at the idea. Did she think she wasn’t welcome?
“You will travel all the faster for having rested. And a day to sort through your bag wouldn’t hurt; you’re carrying too much gear to cross the Am’bieth Marsh with any haste.”
Elspeth's head dropped. “The marsh, I had forgotten about that. Can’t we go south? It wouldn’t matter if we take a few more days, nobody is expecting us.”
Aleban shook his head. He had to say no to her, though he didn’t want to. He knew the marsh had been the source of her brother’s predicament. She would likely do almost anything to avoid the Am’bieth. “It wouldn’t be a ‘few more days,’” Aleban told her. “The Am’fierth Bridge is a week to the south, and once there, you’ll be the wrong side of the Arandor Break. You will have to troop all the way down to Beugeddy before you can turn north. The journey would take near on a month, and that’s assuming you didn’t hit bad weather. Sorry.”
Elspeth rubbed a finger across her forehead. She looked agitated as she absently gazed at the scenery. “No need to say sorry; it’s not your fault we live on the wrong side. Maybe if I sent a pigeon, mother and father might decide to move to Illeas.”
Aleban jerked his head back. “Move here! Well, they’re more than welcome, you know that.” He acknowledged Elspeth’s kind grin, but he knew she was only joking. “It may not be all bad news,” he said. “The weather seems calm enough; I think you can risk the northern track. Going the Blue Rock route is only a two-day march.” Aleban looked up at her with his best stern expression. “You know what to look out for, don't you?”
“Yes. How could I forget? I see that black slime every time I close my eyes.”
Aleban felt a pang of guilt. There was no need to remind her of the dangers. Gods, her brother had come close to death because of the marsh.
Ealian; what was the boy to do now? Possessed by one creature, only to have another heal him. Would he go back to Crenach’coi, take up his post – or rather, Alacin’tien’s post: the ancient Cren’dair leader, who now occupied part of Ealian’s mind.. “I'm sure he's fine. He has good people around him, and once this is finished, he can—”
“Once this is finished?” Elspeth interrupted. She seemed to paw over the words, scrubbing her fingers through her hair. “That's the part I’m worried about. Gods, what's going to happen when we get him home? Is he going to come home?” She forced in a deep breath that made Aleban wish he had not brought up the subject. “I can't think about that now,” she said, pulling at her shoulder straps as if the pack might fall off. “It’s all too confusing. I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“Of course, I'm sorry. One day at a time.” Aleban tried a wolfish grin to cheer her up – that always made her laugh – but she would not look at him.
“No, no, it's not that,” Elspeth said. “I just don’t know what I am going to tell my parents. Father will probably get on the first boat to Beugeddy. It will be all I can do to stop mother going with him, which means I will probably end up going, too. I wish he had returned with us. I wish he were here.”
Aleban said nothing in reply, knowing well and good nothing he could say would make her feel better.
The wolf at the head of the pack turned and shouted back along the line. It was Mott. “The Northern Ridge. Another hour!”
The other wolves howled, and Gialyn, who had been walking up front, talking to the other wolves, let out a whoop. The young man raised his arms in apparent triumph, then turned and ran back to Elspeth.
Gialyn had embraced the wilds, too, but probably for different reasons than Elspeth. He just appeared happy to be there, alive and well, and going home. The tall, dark-haired boy had lost some of his loping awkwardness over the past few days. At least Aleban thought he had. Maybe he was just getting used to the sight of Gialyn’s loping stride. The boy had been practising hunting with the wolves. Mott seemed to think he had some talent for it, but Elspeth was usually the one who brought the food back to camp. Maybe Gialyn chased the rabbits in her direction. Still, he was handsome enough, for a human. He would make a good mate for Elspeth, in a few years, once he had filled out a bit.
“Nearly there,” Gialyn said. “Food and a good bed!” Smiling, he rubbed his hands together. “I hope Lanay is in the kitchens, I’ve been looking forward to her cooking since we left the hollow.”
It was remarkable what humans could get excited about, none more so than those two youngsters. They could get enthusiastic about washing clothes… Well, maybe not that.
Elspeth smiled – hers wasn’t as garish as Gialyn’s. “I don’t know about food; I'm looking forward to a soft mattress,” she said, knuckling her back, before adjusting her straps again.
What are these two doing? Aleban thought. Is this the way mating is done in the towns? They obviously like one another, why all the games? Strange humans.
Gialyn was the worst; the boy’s smile creased wider, showing a full set of white teeth. He had his shirt tucked in and, by the looks of them, had cleaned his boots that morning, and…
Has he tried to brush his hair? Hopeless. At least he’s stopped tripping over his feet every time he looks at her. Maybe there’s hope yet. If this is a game, Elspeth must be winning; she certainly has him running around in circles – just like a wolf. I wonder if she has tested his hunting skills.
“Yes. Food an
d a comfortable bed,” Gialyn said. “We're not getting up early tomorrow, are we?” The young man looked to Aleban like it was up to him how long they slept. “Please, I need to sleep for a week, if possible.”
“You can lie in bed all day if you want; you will be staying two nights in Illeas’den.”
Gialyn jumped in the air, triumphantly raising his fist. “Thank the gods; a bit of normality.”
Aleban couldn’t help but howl. ‘A bit of normality…’ Just ten days ago, the Albergeddians had been wide-eyed with amazement on discovering wolves lived with humans. Now they think it normal… No, I’ll never understand humans.
Gialyn continued, “We’ll be home in another week.” He moved to Elspeth’s side, matching her step. “You know when father suggested coming back, I didn’t want to go home. But now we are on our way, I can't wait to see mother… and Pepa.”
“Who is ‘Pepa’?” Elspeth asked.
“Oh, sorry, she’s my horse. Uh… father’s horse, I suppose. Never mind who she belongs to, I'll just be glad to see her.”
Elspeth laughed, then immediately sank back into her mood. “Nice that you have something to look forward to.”
Aleban caught Gialyn’s eye and gave a subtle shake of his head. Hopefully, the boy would understand and not bring up Ealian again; Elspeth needed a few days’ rest, not a few days’ worry.
“We'll all be there with you, Elspeth.” Gialyn put his hand on her shoulder and shook her as if she were a male.
Elspeth patted Gialyn's hand. “I know. Thank you.” She smiled but with her mouth only – her eyes stayed fixed on the ground in front of her.
Gialyn patted her on the shoulder one more time and then lowered his arm. He looked embarrassed, for some reason. What is it with humans? They will tell you all their secrets, but not show an ounce of caring. Aleban shook his head at the contradiction. She needs a mate; the girl should not be dealing with this alone.
The Dragon Oracles: Omnibus Edition (The Eastern Kingdom Omnibus Book 1) Page 46