“I would not do that to her.” Alador shook his head. “For such noble and wise beasts, you dragons can be rather animalistic.”
“Well, the key was in the word.” Henrick chuckled. “It might come with the word beast.” He shook his head as his fingers stilled. “I fear that I find mortals more the beasts that the most ferocious of all of Vesta.”
Alador sat down in the chair to the side of Henrick’s desk. He was truly curious as to how Henrick could think such a thing. “How so?”
Henrick leaned back in his chair folding his arms behind his head as he kicked his feet up onto the desk. “Well let me see...despite the level of intelligence the gods gifted them; mortals across the world kill for control. In the world of beasts, one might kill for a mate, territory, or food. There are many places in this world you have yet to see, but there is fighting about which god is best.”
“Other races kill each other because someone in control told them that they had to. They leave their lands, their mates and everything that they would truly kill for… to kill for someone who takes no risk at all.” Henrick shook his head in disbelief. “To kill to prove that a god or a view is supreme, yet they themselves may not even believe it.” He tapped the arm of his chair to make his point.
Henrick closed his eyes and continued. “The Lerdenian war was about power and control. While the Daezun fought to protect the dragons and the old ways, the Lerdenians fought to control the isle, as well as to gain in power and glory. Mortals are pack animals. They may be righteous on their own, but they will bow to an alpha and commit atrocious acts that they would not do on their own.” Henrick looked at him.
Alador considered Henrick’s words. “Then why try to save them?” he asked curiously. He knew long ago that Keensight had sworn to see all Lerdenians burn for the crimes of the egg hunters.
“Because … while this is the mortals overall,” Henrick stared at his hand on the desk. “I have learned that there are so many that are not known, who do not rise in power, and that are so much more than beasts. There are many that would be happy to remain on their lands, and with their families. They create wondrous things without the use of magic.” Henrick’s eyes held a faraway look. “Such beings, deserve to exist. It is those that lead them into folly and cruelty that must pay the price.” An angry edge filled Henrick’s words. “Men like Luthian,” he snarled.
“Luthian has good intentions from his point of view,” Alador began.
Henrick rose angrily to his feet interrupting the younger mage. “Do not ever utter that in my presence again.” His eyes was cold and hard. “As you know Renamaum, I know Henrick. As you pointed out, I hold many of his memories. I know what that man did to his family, his brother, and many orders he has given that were carried out by others. Do not forget his use of people like Keelee who is not one of ill intent in and of herself.” Henrick leaned across the desk.
“I did not come this far… WE did not come this far” the older man continued. “To see you go soft on that vile snake now.”
Alador froze in the chair at the vehemence in Henrick’s tone and voice. “I did not mean he deserves to rule,” he offered, trying to appease the man before him. “He sees himself as being able to heal the isle, even if he goes about it the wrong way.” Alador felt some need to see the good in his uncle. His words were partially a surprise to his own ears.
“Trust me, Luthian sees only to himself, and what he desires. If he seeks to unite the isle, it is not for the good of anything but his plans,” Henrick spat out. “Good done with evil intentions … is still a form of evil.” Henrick’s nails rake the varnish of the desk.
“And evil done in the name of good… people who die to see your cause come to fruition? What of them?” Alador rose up to make his point setting his glass aside. He leaned equally across the desk so that the two men were eye to eye and his words were lowly spoken. “The reverse is not true. Evil done in the name of good is also still evil.”
He rose up and crossed his arms. “Yet I will kill for this… greater good. In my mind, that makes me just as evil as Luthian.” He glared at Henrick. He waved a hand at himself and gestured toward the upper tiers. “The only difference between Luthian and I is that if I don’t follow this path, I will die due to the geas placed upon me.”
Henrick rose and moved about the desk. “That is not true. What you do… You do to save three races and an even greater number of lives,” his voice dropped to one of genuine concern. He put a hand on Alador’s arm. “What Luthian does is to save one and absorb the rest while he basks in glory.”
“It does not lessen the blood on my hands, father.” Alador turned to face Henrick fully, brushing off the concerned hand. “It does not lessen the stain on my soul. I will soon cast a spell that may kill beast, child, and plunge half the isle into a period of darkness."
“It is a hard path. I never said it was not,” Henrick said, his eyes took on a haunted look.
“Yes, yes it is.” Alador’s eyes met Henrick’s evenly. “Yet you and Renamaum miscalculated one small matter.”
Henrick looked shocked for a moment as if that was not possible. He frowned and raised an eyebrow as he considered Alador’s words. “I fail to see any miscalculations?”
“You gave a dragon’s mind and power to a man who you just admitted was from a race that is one of the bloodiest on the isle.” Alador’s soft words held a hint of threat within them. He stepped close to Henrick.
“We gave it to a young man that we both believed had a sense of duty, love for his people, and in the long run, will always do the right thing even if it is not how we would do it.” Henrick did not give ground, his eyes met Alador’s with concern.
“You don’t really know me. None of you really do. I have the power to disappear, and never look back to any of you.” Alador let out a small growl as he stepped forward. “I could choose to do what is best for me.” Alador could feel that strength pulsing through him as he spoke.
Henrick put a restraining hand on Alador’s arm. “Boy, do not play with me. I know you better than you think.”
“Do you? Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I want power? Or that, maybe I just want done with all of this?” Alador shrugged him off. “I feel like a piece on a King’s board. Except, both sides want control of the piece. I am tired of being pushed about at everyone’s whim.”
“Of course you think those things. It would be stranger that you did not.” Henrick replied firmly. He tapped Alador in the chest. “But it is your soul that is pure and good, Alador. It is the heart of the man or dragon that matters, not the fleeting thoughts of greed or selfishness.”
“I hope you are right, father. For if you are not... I assure you, you have given me the means to be far more a tyrant than Luthian could hope to be.” Alador turned and strode from the room leaving his father and friend to think about the true seriousness of the situation. They were so busy trying to maneuver him, they forgot to consider what he might truly want.
Henrick watched him go and muttered softly. “I hope so too.”
Alador smiled as he strode away. He had heard those words. It had been fun to give Henrick a bit of payback for making him climb the cliff to his cave. Maybe the conversation would make Henrick be a little more forthcoming in the future, and maybe he would quit trying to use him. Alador intended to see the isle freed of Lerdenian cruelty, but not for Renamaum or Keensight. He would do it for the people that Henrick had spoken about earlier: The farmers, the poor, and those who were helpless to defend themselves deserved a life free of such tyranny.
Chapter Fourteen
Alador startled when Nemara’s moist tongue teased his earlobe, interrupting his thoughts. He barely stilled his pull of power at her first words in his ear. “So did you and your father get to watch the duel?” Nemara plopped down beside Alador in the dining hall after sliding her tray next to his.
Alador looked over and smiled. “Duel? What duel?”
“Do you two ever take your nose out of
books? The whole city is talking about it, and you don’t know anything?” Nemara rolled her eyes as she flipped her red hair back over her shoulder. “Your uncle was challenged for the seat of High Minister.” She leaned over to continue in a breathy whisper. “I heard he almost lost too. But... he burned his challenger to a toasty piece of flesh. At least, that is what is being passed about.” She began to dig into her food not waiting for his response.
Alador was staring at her as he tried to digest what she had just cascaded over him in a torrent of words. Luthian had been challenged and nearly lost? “That would have been a fight to see for certain,” he muttered more to himself than Nemara. He had missed a chance to see Luthian’s skill in the use of magic.
He realized as he looked Nemara over that her hair was a lighter red than he had first thought as this was the first time that he had seen it dry. Today it reminded him of fire bricks reflecting the dancing flames of a fireplace. He smiled at his own thoughts and realized she was speaking.
“...said he used some fiery dragon to win the duel.” She glared at him. “Are you even listening to me?” Her copper eyes narrowed in irritation.
“I most certainly am.” He gave her a winning smile hoping to distract her. “Luthian won the day with a flaming dragon,” he repeated solemnly.
“Why don’t they teach us spells like that?” grumbled Nemara as she continued to ladle food into her mouth.
“Honestly? I suspect that they are afraid we will use them to rebel,” Alador mused picking at his own meal. Her words had driven the desire to eat away.
Nemara looked about them and leaned over to continue in a whisper. “Speaking of which, I have seven so far. How many are we going to need?” She looked about to make sure no one was too close to them.
“Maybe ten. There is the matter of transportation,” Alador replied. Even as the words left his lips, he realized that he could take them all. He would just have to figure out where so as to be certain the area was clear and large enough. Not only that, the memory of Renamaum’s observations of the bloodmine were clear. Did dragons ever forget anything? He mused to himself as he realized that so many things had just gotten a lot simpler. Maybe he could complete the geas after all.
“Well, so far those I trust have been excited to see this through. It is like a chance to strike back for being abandoned for some, for the war for others; each has their own reasons.” Nemara’s voice trailed off.
Alador did not miss the shift in her demeanor. “Nemara, are you sure that revenge is what you really need?” Alador asked after a guardsman passed them by to sit for his own meal.
She did not hesitate. “Yes! Anything that makes your uncle bleed will make me happy. Nemara looked down at her tray, her hair obscuring her face. She was quiet for a long moment then looked over at him “I want my revenge.” Her words came out a whispered hiss.
She pushed her tray back although it was still nearly full. “Meet after class today?” She smiled at him though it did not reach her eyes. Her body and tone shifted to cheerful as quickly as it had shifted to reflection and hate.
Alador frowned. “I am afraid I can’t. I was given extra duty for being back late. I have to clean the ovens and help in the kitchens till the midnight hour for the next week. All my half days were canceled as well.” He actually felt he had gotten off lightly. He had been late by almost a full day.
“Well shite,” she said. Her tone held her surprise. She flashed him a sly look through her lashes. “I hope she was worth it."
Alador grinned. “First, I have hardly enough time for you. I doubt I will be fitting in any other female companions.” He pushed his own tray back. “Secondly, I was with my father and yes…” He grew more serious. “It was worth it.”
“I suspect there is a tale that comes with that look,” she turned to face him fully.
Alador shook his head. “Not much of one and what there is, I am afraid I will not tell you.”
She leaned in next to his ear, her breath warm against his cheek. “Even if I am in your bed when you get out of the kitchens?”
He felt her fingers trail up his thigh suggestively. “I am afraid, Nemara, you have nothing you could offer that would make me part with this particular tale,” he whispered back, despite his stirring interest.
Nemara squeezed his leg as she answered him. “That sounds like a challenge.” She swung up and grabbed both their trays leaving him chuckling at the table.
He had no doubt that she would make good on her promise. She was rather an aggressive woman, and he was certain she could hold her own in any arena she chose, even a bedroom. He sat for a moment watching the room as others milled about, ate or made their way to class. It was fuller now than when he had first arrived. It was time he got to class though. As he left the noisy room, his thoughts focused on the red-haired spitfire who had hinted she would be waiting in his bed.
His next class was on strategy, and it was the one that held the most interest for him lately. Renamaum’s strategies that he could recall all involved assaults from above. While he might have the spells of the dragon, he did not have wings. He was going to have to learn to approach battle from a different angle than his benefactor.
Master Levielle was not a member of the Blackguard or the magi ruling class. The weathered man was a general in the standing army of Lerdenia. Despite his rank, he would not let them address him as anything other than Master. Though he was Lerdenian in nature, Alador could sense a high level of honor in the man. He had come to admire his straightforward approach to problems as well as his dry wit. Alador managed to slip into the classroom just as the bell sounded.
Master Levielle did not look up from his desk where he was writing. “Alador, it would seem you think this class an inconvenience.” He looked up to skewer Alador with his intense gaze, the dark purple eyes narrowed. “You are the only one who continually slips in my room as the last chimes ring.”
Alador sat back in his chair as he took in the man’s words and the snickering of his classmates. He always found the man firm but fair. He did not have the usual look of most of their instructors. His dark brown hair was short enough to quickly fit within a helm. “I assure you, Master Levielle that is not the case. Why my tardiness is but a reflection of my studying.” He flashed a winning smile as the man’s brow raised.
Master Levielle did not look amused in the slightest. “Then let us put that to the test.” He rose and began to pace slowly through the room as he spoke. “Everyone pull out your slates. You may thank Alador for a sudden test of your studies.”
Alador squirmed under the nasty looks he received from many of his classmates. He had pushed Master Levielle a bit too far apparently. He suspected that he was in for a tongue lashing after class. He should not be late for the next few days, he thought.
Master Levielle stood formally before them all. He did not teach in his uniform, but rather adopted a simple pair of breeches and tunic, though they appeared fine in quality. He stood erect with his hands clasped behind. The instructor fired off questions barely giving time for each student to write down their answers. The scratching of chalk on slate ticked out the hurried answers.
When he was done, Master Levielle strode forward and removed Alador’s slate. He quickly read over the answers then glanced at Alador, his face unreadable. He turned and took the slate to the front of the room. Alador felt the triumphant gazes of those around him but he was not worried, he was fairly certain of his answers.
“Let us approach the first question. What are the most important considerations when drawing up an order of battle?” Levielle set Alador’s slate on his desk then turned back to the rest of the class.
A woman near the front stood and gave the first answer. “The position of the sun, the amount of dust, and the direction of the wind.”
“Very good.” Levielle nodded then looked at Alador. “Why Alador?”
Alador stood and took a deep breath. “The position of the sun is necessary as it needs to be in the enemy
’s eyes and not our own. The same with dust. An army’s eyes burning with dust cannot see and fight with distinction. The wind also applies to dust but in the cases of our own army, it is important to the mages. Poisons cast into the wind must not have a chance of blowing back into our own troops faces.” He looked at the man hopefully.
Master Levielle nodded and moved on to the next question. Each time, their instructor had Alador answer the reason behind the answer. It was not until the last question that Alador realized that the instructor had asked them out of order. “What is the most important element on the battlefield?” Though he asked the question generally, he was looking at Alador.
The man next to him stood and gave the answer that had been drilled into them over and over. “The order of mages is the most important element.” He sat down with a smile. Levielle gave a nod of approval along with a tight smile.
He picked up Alador’s slate and held it aloft. “That is the answer I have told you time and time again. The answer I have been instructed to give you.” He looked at Alador’s slate as if to reread it. “Yet, Alador, you wrote infantry. I am interested in your reasoning,” his tone held no censor just an edge of curiosity.
Alador slowly stood as he realized that he had indeed written infantry instead of the magi. He swiftly searched for a reason for his answer. It occurred to him that it had not been mages that had beaten back the dragons in the Great War. “I am sorry if my answer is disrespectful, Master Levielle.” He put both hands out to his side. “But I feel strongly that my answer is the more correct one.”
Much to his surprise, Master Levielle smiled. “Go on,” he encouraged, waving the slate at Alador.
“Not all armies will have the number of mages that Lerdenia can supply in a time of war. In many ways, this does indeed give us an advantage. But, if the opposing army can field a large infantry then they merely need to wait until our mages are spent before they deploy their own advantages.” Alador gained more confidence when he saw no disapproval in the General’s face.
Pseudo-Dragon (The Blue Dragon's Geas Book 4) Page 14