The Dragon Oracles: Omnibus Edition (The Eastern Kingdom Omnibus Book 1)

by T. J. Garrett

  He raised his arm again. It felt heavier. The iron had merged with the Krassis steel, making black and silver stripes along his arms. If not as strong as before, it certainly looked impressive.

  Two men walked out of the tent opposite. Arfael hitched back into the shadow and watched as the troopers moved closer. Neither looked in his direction. They must have come out for some air, or maybe a smoke. They certainly were not on patrol.

  The men stood on the far side of the cart. They were talking…

  “How much longer do you think they’ll keep this up?” the taller of the two said.

  The shorter man shrugged. “No idea. I’m surprised they lasted this long. If it were not for the dragons, we would have slaughtered them by now.”

  “I don’t know why they care about those dragons, it’s not like they’ve been any bloody use.”

  The shorter man hushed the other. “Don’t say things like that; if someone hears…”

  “Ha! Let them hear. Someone needs to admit what’s going on around here. The dragons have left; once the Surabhan find out, they’ll send their dragons, and that’ll be the end of us. Either way, more trouble for the likes of us. Mark my words.”

  Their dragons have gone! He had heard half a dozen of them fly off but had assumed they were on a mission. I should let Daric know.

  He knew this news could win the battle for Daric and the Surabhan, but dare he use the Voice so close to Vila? He could leave; go back to the woods. From there, he would be able to speak to Gialyn without risk. But that would mean leaving the witch! No, he would wait. Ten minutes would not change anything. If he hadn’t killed the witch by then, he would go and tell the others about the dragons.

  * * *

  Gialyn woke suddenly, beads of sweat rolling down his cheek. What he’d seen felt like a nightmare, but he knew it was real, as real as the cold, sickening feeling he now felt in his gut: Elspeth was dying!

  Holding his stomach—the wound was still throbbing—he pushed his feet out from under the blanket and felt for the floor. He had to roll onto his elbow to ease himself up straight and, when he did, he immediately felt dizzy. Catching the chair leg with his foot, he pulled it closer and used the back as a climbing frame. Once stood, he thought he was going to fall back down, but the feeling passed. One unsteady step at a time, he made his way to the stairs.

  His father was standing by the fire talking to Ker when he stumbled into the common room.

  “Stone me, boy, what the bloody hell are you doing up out of bed?” Daric said, as he pushed a sergeant out of the way and took Gialyn by the arm.

  “I had to,” Gialyn said. “Elspeth, she is dying. We have to go and get her.”

  “Elspeth! Gods, no! Where is she?”

  “Northwest of the bog, not far from the woods. Grady is with her; he’s injured, too.”

  Daric tightened his jaw and turned to the wildling. The wolf shook his head. “We can’t, Gialyn. The Kel’madden are running all over those fields.”

  “But… No, Father, its Elspeth. We have to try. And what about Grady? We can’t leave him there to die. There must be someone nearby who can help.”

  Daric pulled in a long breath. “Son, our eastern flank is lost, we’re barely hanging on. I’ll send some riders out, see if they can squeeze through, but I doubt they’ll manage it. I’m sorry, I truly am. Believe me when I say I would go myself if I thought there was one chance in a hundred.”

  Gialyn felt panic rise in his chest and a cold sweat bloom over his face. He wasn’t hearing this! He must still be asleep! How could his father say such a thing? Why wasn’t Daric shouting orders for a hundred men to ride out and save them? Could he really let Elspeth die?

  Gialyn could feel her in his mind; sense how much she was hurting. He couldn’t leave her to that.

  “What about the wolves? Maybe a few could get through with a single soldier, someone who knows how to dress wounds and stop the bleeding. There must be someone who can do that.”

  Daric looked at him—stared, really. His eyes said no, but Gialyn knew his father didn’t want to speak the words.

  “I’ll go,” a voice said.

  Gialyn turned to the table in the corner where a young sergeant stood. The young man pushed his chair away and moved into the lamplight. Gialyn thought he recognised him as one of the men who had carried his cot down from the palace.

  “Sergeant Wicks,” Daric said. “That’s very brave, lad, but you must know there’s little hope.”

  “I understand, sir,” the sergeant said, “and I’ll keep my head down. But someone has to try. I’ve done six months with Master Chandry. I’m good with needle and thread, and I’ve pulled more than one arrow in my time.”

  Gialyn spun round to his father. Then wished he hadn’t. The wound in his gut flashed with pain at the sudden movement. Daric walked him over to a chair.

  He sat down slowly, holding his gut against the pain. “You have to let him try, Father. You have to!”

  Daric sighed. “Very well, Wicks. Go now, and keep an eye out.” He waved the young sergeant off, giving him a stern look as he did so. “I tell you true,” Daric said to the sergeant’s back, “Grady will not thank you if you get yourself killed rescuing him.”

  “I’ll take a horse as far as the eastern wall,” the sergeant said over his shoulder.

  Daric just nodded, but Gialyn said, “Thank you.”

  With Wicks gone, Gialyn settled into the chair. Daric brought him some water and then sat opposite. “You mustn’t get your hopes up,” his father said. “There’s very little chance that Wicks will make it through. You must prepare yourself for the worst.”

  Gialyn beat down a pang of anger. He was about to say, “It sounds like you’ve given up,” but he knew that simply wasn’t true. Daric would do everything to save Elspeth, never mind Grady.

  They sat in silence for a long moment, before Daric stood and resumed his duty. A maid helped Gialyn back to the stairs…

  But he didn’t go back to bed. Instead, he slowly made his way down the rear stairway and out the back door. The stable yard was quiet. Sergeant Wicks was saddling his horse. A small boy was helping him.

  “Sergeant,” Gialyn said, “can I talk to you? I have an idea.”

  The sergeant finished testing the harness while looking over at him. Then nodded for the boy to carry on.

  “What is it, Gialyn? You should be in bed. Does your father know you’re out here?”

  “No. Never mind that. If I could get you there quickly, would you help me bring Elspeth and Grady back?”

  “And just how are you going to manage that?” the sergeant asked. “You can barely stand! The only place you’re going is back to your room.”

  Gialyn clenched his teeth. He’d had had about enough of people telling him to be careful. “You can either help, or I’ll go alone.”

  He glared at the sergeant, hoping the man wouldn’t call his bluff. The moment turned into half a minute. Wicks must be considering his offer. “It would be safer for you, too, Sergeant,” Gialyn told him. “We will be above the fighting.”

  “‘Above’! Gods, boy, what sort of lunatic idea have you got in mind?”

  “The dragons,” Gialyn told him. “I’ll ask the dragons to take us.”

  Sergeant Wicks stood with wide-eyed astonishment. His mouth slowly turned into a mischievous grin. “Dragons, eh.” He scratched his neck while looking over his shoulder at where the stable boy was just now finishing with his horse. “It would certainly be safer than riding. Where are these dragons?”

  “Not far,” Gialyn said. “And I can ask them to come here.”

  The sergeant glanced to his right. “They’ll not land in here. I’ll have to go to the market. Can you send them to Butcher’s Square? It’s just off the Blue Mile, a few minutes south.

  That made sense, Gialyn thought. “Come on. We’ll go the back way.”

  “‘We…?’ You’re not going. You father will string me up if he learns I let you leave the inn,
never mind flying off on the back of a dragon.”

  Gialyn sighed. “Why are people always trying to do what’s best for me? I’m nineteen, nearly. With or without your help, I am going to save Elspeth.”

  Gialyn walked to the back fence, then through the gate into the alley. Once outside, he turned south in the direction of the Butcher’s Square.

  He hadn’t gone ten paces when the sergeant caught up. “Your father will do more than string me up if I let you go alone.” Wicks smiled at him.

  “I suppose he would,” Gialyn said, hiding a quick grin—which wasn’t hard, given the pain in his stomach.

  He knew, from the sergeant’s expression, that a ride on a dragon was all the persuasion Wicks needed. Gialyn didn’t care what his motive was, as long as Elspeth would get the help she needed.

  The animal pens were all empty when they walked into the Butcher’s Square. Gialyn sat on one of the benches. He opened his mind to the Voice…

  He felt a tugging sensation pulling him to the south of Bailryn—though he knew, only his mind had Travelled. Stopping just short of his destination, he walked the last hundred paces to where Lyduk was resting.

  “No, Gialyn,” the dragon said before he even opened his mouth to speak. “I’m not going to rescue your friend. You know Tor has forbidden us from getting involved in the fighting—defending the city, that’s all.”

  “But it’s Elspeth! Bausamon has plans for her. We have to save her.”

  Gialyn hoped that mentioning Bausamon would add some weight to his argument. But Lyduk just laughed.

  “Then let Bausamon save her,” the dragon said. “It’s out of my hands.”

  “How can you…? It will only take ten minutes. They probably won’t even notice. It’s still dark out.”

  Gialyn stared pleadingly at Lyduk. He couldn’t think of another argument—not with his mind so full of worry—and he couldn’t force the dragon, either.

  For a long moment, the dragon looked him up and down. He seemed to be measuring him, determining his worth.

  “You’re not an Oracle,” Lyduk suddenly said. “What has that White Dragon done to you? You have the earth and sky… can you speak to water, too?”

  Gialyn blinked. What did he mean by that? “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what he did. Well, that’s not true; I know a bit, but Bausamon told me it would be months before I quickened. Whatever that means.”

  Lyduk chuckled. “It’s what they call it when an Oracle receives the Knowledge of Ages. But if you’re not an Oracle, then I don’t know what will happen to you.”

  The dragon continued staring, scratching his chin with a long talon. Finally: “Well, I didn’t fly all the way to Eiras just to have the girl go kill herself two days after rescuing her. Ban!” Lyduk shouted the last.

  “I heard you,” Ban said. “I’ll take the boy; you take his friend and pick up the girl.”

  Gialyn felt his mouth stretch into a broad grin. “Thank you, Lyduk. Thank you, Ban. I’ll never forget this.”

  A few minutes later, Ban and Lyduk landed in the Butcher’s Square. Gialyn struggled up onto Ban’s back and Wicks, with a wide grin on his face, jumped up onto Lyduk’s. Then they were flying over the northern wall towards where he knew Elspeth was lying. They were high up, out of sight of prying eyes. It was cold, and his wound ached.

  He could barely see the ground. Here and there, a flash of light broke through the darkness, but those were to the west, from the Kel’madden camp. Below, Gialyn could see nothing but the blackened hue of what had been green fields up until a few hours ago. He could see the trees, though—their branches made faint silhouettes against the slowly clearing sky. The rain had stopped, but there were still clouds all around. Fortunately, they were mostly to the west.

  “That way,” Gialyn said.

  “I can’t see where you’re pointing, boy,” Ban said. “Left… right… which way are we going?”

  “Head for the trees, she’s close to the southeastern edge.”

  “Good enough,” Ban said. “Hold on, I’ll have to fly lower if I’m going to see her.”

  “No need for that, I know exactly where she is,” Gialyn told him, but the dragon still descended. “Why are you—?”

  “Can you tell me where the trees are?” the Dragon asked. “Can you see the enemy? No, of course, you can’t. I’m not going to land without knowing what’s about. There could be troopers and archers all along those hedgerows.”

  “Sorry,” Gialyn said. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  No, he wasn’t thinking, not about that. His connection to Elspeth had strengthened since leaving the city; she was in pain, cold, and scared. Gialyn didn’t know if the pain was his own or hers, but it made him grip tightly onto Ban’s neck. He would have to break his link with Elspeth soon, or neither of them would survive the night.

  “Down there,” Ban said.

  Gialyn squinted at where the dragon was nodding. On the ground, a wide circle of dead and injured were scattered between the field and the thin line of trees to the north. Nobody was fighting, though; the troopers had left.

  “Land near the trees,” Gialyn said. “She not far from them, I can see through her eyes. Look for a large stump with a deep hollow behind it.”

  The dragon looked up and down the line of trees. “There!” he said, nodding the east.

  Gialyn managed to turn and give Lyduk a signal. He pointed down at the stump. Lyduk began his descent.

  Ban landed, and Gialyn grabbed his wound. It wasn’t a soft landing. He could feel blood soaking through his shirt. Master Roan was not going to be pleased with him.

  Gialyn watched as Wilks slid off Lyduk’s neck. The sergeant ran over and helped him down. Gialyn winced as his feet hit the ground hard. He could feel the wound opening.

  Ignoring the pain, he moved as fast as he could towards the large stump. All around, dark human-shaped shadows littered the field. He could hear moaning; not all of them were dead. Gods, he should have brought all the dragons… and a dozen men.

  He sensed a presence in the Voice. “Qiel, is that you?” Gialyn asked.

  A wolf moved out of the shadows and took a pace towards him. Qiel was limping, but otherwise fit.

  “What are you doing here?” the wolf asked.

  “I’ve come for Elspeth.”

  “You’re too late; she won’t make it back to Bailryn.”

  Gialyn ignored the wolf. He had seen a familiar shape huddled by the stump. “Elspeth!” He ran as fast as his wound would allow, and knelt by her side. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing slowly. She looked pale. Her hand, red with blood, was still clutched around the arrow in her gut. “Over here!” Gialyn shouted to Wicks.

  The sergeant ran over, pulling the pack off his back. “Move aside, Gialyn, I need room.”

  Gialyn shuffled around by Elspeth’s head. He stroked the hair from her face and lifted her onto his lap. She moaned as he moved her. He had never been so pleased to hear someone complain.

  Wicks sighed. “Well, it’s missed all the important stuff,”—the arrow was embedded in Elspeth’s side—“but she has lost a lot of blood. I can stop the bleeding and dress the wound, but I’m afraid whether she lives or dies is up to her.”

  “Grraady!” Elspeth whispered. She raised her hand and pointed towards the stump.

  Gialyn looked over; he could barely see the outline of Grady’s body.

  Wicks caught his arm, and when Gialyn turned to look at him, the sergeant was slowly shaking his head.

  “Are you sure?” Gialyn whispered.

  The sergeant just nodded.

  Gialyn fought the urge to be sick. What was his father going to say? Poor Grady, he didn’t have to come with them, and now he was dead. He wanted to get up, walk over to Grady and say goodbye, maybe say something poignant, but he couldn’t move. For a long minute, while Wicks was fussing with Elspeth, he stared at Grady’s body. He would have to move him before they left; he couldn’t just leave the man face down in the mud!


  Gialyn brushed the tears from his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. He looked down at Elspeth. “We’ll take care of him,” he told her. She closed her eyes and relaxed a little.

  Minutes later, Wicks had finished dressing her wound and was packing away his things. “I’ll have to carry her back,” he said. “You’re not strong enough to hold on to her and the dragon.”

  Gialyn nodded. “What about…” he gestured towards Grady’s body.

  “I’ll take him back with us,” Ban said.

  Gialyn felt a wave of relief. He had thought of moving Grady, covering him up—the thought of what the crows would do was too much to bear. It hadn’t occurred to him to ask the dragons.

  “Thank you, Ban,” Gialyn said. “I know father will be grateful. Once he calms down.”

  Ban nodded.

  Gialyn could still hear moaning coming from all around. Some of the dark lumps were moving: raising a hand in the air, or turning on their side. “We’ll have to send someone back as soon as we are able,” he said.

  “We’ll send a hundred,” Wicks said. “There’ll be a break in the fighting come morning; there always is, with this type of battle. They only need wait a few hours.”

  That made Gialyn feel better, a little. Every one of those souls was somebody’s loved one. He felt guilty about leaving them, but if Wilks were right it would only be for a little while longer.

  Wicks helped Gialyn onto Ban’s back before lifting himself and Elspeth up onto Lyduk’s. Ban took off, and Gialyn had to hold his wound while the dragon hovered over Grady’s body and gently picked him up with his huge rear claws. Then both dragons turned south. They would be back in Bailryn in a few minutes. Gialyn was already wondering how he would break the bad news to his father. It was not going to be easy.

  CHAPTER 26