Blood of Dragons

by Jack Campbell

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I can’t recall things,” Kira said, suddenly irritable. “I mean, I was on that ship, and I hadn’t eaten anything or had any water for days, and when I did the spell I must have been so tired that I couldn’t remember what was happening for a little while.”

  “There is still something you are not saying. Using Mage powers requires strong concentration and focus. I remember every detail of casting a spell.”

  “You probably haven’t ever done one under those conditions!”

  Asha looked at Kira, her calmness somehow making it harder for Kira to handle the examination. “I have sometimes been very stressed when casting spells, Kira.”

  Which meant, Kira knew, that at such times Asha had been facing death while worn out from exertion. Guilt at feeling that she had denigrated Asha’s own experiences made her angry, which drove her next words. “Look, I’ve been through a whole lot lately. Like yesterday! Do we have to go into all this?”

  Asha paused before speaking. “Always you have said that you are ‘fine’ when using your Mage powers. I have never seen a lie in you at such times.”

  “There! See?” Kira insisted.

  “You will speak to your father Alain of this?”

  “Yes,” Kira promised with a heavy sigh to make clear how badly she was being put upon.

  “You used a spell yesterday, early on,” Asha continued.

  “Yes,” Kira said. “The spell to make me and Jason invisible.” Guilt tugged at her as she remembered that she had lied to Jason about blacking out during that spell as well.

  Asha must have seen that, but didn't press it. “It is fortunate that you did. I sensed you using the spell, and directed General Flyn to send his forces in this direction.” She smiled slightly again. “It was difficult to explain how I knew you were here without disclosing your…special talents.”

  “Thank you, Aunt Asha,” Kira said. “I'm sorry I'm a little on edge.” She felt weariness overcoming her again, perhaps triggered by the emotional turmoil inside her. She didn’t remember lying down, but when she woke next the sunlight on the outside of the tent told her that it was well into the afternoon.

  Fortunately, the issue of blackouts didn’t arise again. But after drinking some more broth and eating some crackers, Kira felt a strange restlessness. She couldn’t sit doing nothing, and once she had gotten to her feet couldn’t stop pacing inside the tent even though every step hurt a little. Asha had gone off to rest, and Calu was watching Jason. “Why don’t you take a walk?” Calu finally suggested.

  “Because that’s crazy,” Kira said. “I need to rest. And it hurts to walk.”

  “Then how about a ride? Ask outside.” He saw her glance at Jason. “I won’t leave his side. Promise. He’ll be all right, Kira. He just needs a lot more recovery than you do because he got hurt a lot worse. But he's not in any danger.”

  Reassured, Kira turned to go but paused before leaving, looking at her pistol hanging in her shoulder holster from one of the tent poles. Even though she should be perfectly safe while surrounded by Alexdrian troops, Kira still felt a need to have that protection. She couldn’t wear the holster with the uniform she was in, though, so Kira drew the weapon, deciding to carry it. Her last memory of the weapon was of holstering it, but she couldn't remember making it safe. Kira ejected the magazine and worked the slide, emptying the round still in the chamber, mentally chastising herself for not having done that last night. She set the safety before loading the loose cartridge back in the magazine, pausing for a moment to gaze at the three rounds.

  “Are you all right?” Calu asked.

  “Yes,” Kira said, looking at him. “I was just thinking how close it was. See? Three shots. That's all that was left.”

  He gazed back at her, solemn, before nodding in wordless agreement.

  She slid the magazine back into the pistol, then cautiously stepped out of the tent, seeing a string of guards posted around it. Before she could go any farther, a sergeant confronted her with a salute.

  “May I be of service, Lady?”

  Kira straightened and returned the salute. “Is there any chance I could get a mount? I’d like to ride around the camp.”

  “Certainly, Lady. Do you prefer Lady or Lieutenant?”

  “Lieutenant,” Kira said.

  “We’ll have a mount for you in a moment, Lieutenant.” The sergeant barked orders and a nearby private ran off. “And get the lieutenant a proper holster while you’re at it!” the sergeant called.

  Kira stood looking around at the neat rows of small tents set up on what had been an open plateau. Occasional larger tents like the one she stood by anchored the ends of rows. Horses were gathered in temporary corrals formed of rope strung between steel poles driven into the dirt. Smoke drifted upwards from wagons parked near the corrals as farriers worked on the mounts’ hooves and replaced horseshoes. Pennants set at regular intervals flapped in the breeze, marking the locations of subunits of the regiment. Some of the soldiers she could see were resting, others walking about with purpose or attending to some of the horses or standing sentry. There wasn’t any sense of imminent danger, or of urgent preparations for more fighting soon. “Have the Imperials been defeated?”

  The sergeant nodded. “The word I have is that the legion that entered this portion of the Northern Ramparts has been destroyed, most of them taken prisoner. We caught them spread out in small units and exhausted from very rapid marches over the last few days. The other legion has been cut up very badly, the remnants retreating toward Imperial territory. We were told to rest and regroup.”

  “You’re not heading for Umburan?” Kira asked.

  “We were hoping to,” the sergeant said with a grin. “But orders came to stop. Orders from the daughter herself, Lieutenant. She has other plans for dealing with the Empire.”

  Kira smiled. “I have no doubt of that.”

  The sergeant’s gaze on her grew apprehensive and fascinated. Kira wondered just what her smile had looked like, and how her voice had sounded.

  The sergeant pointed downslope to the southwest, where Kira could see large groups of people gathered. “The prisoners are down there. Legionaries captured near here, and some other Imperials caught farther south.”

  “Sailors?” Kira asked.

  “Yes, Lieutenant.” The sergeant eyed her. “You sank a ship, they say.”

  “It blew up after I set it on fire, so it was really the ammo magazines exploding that sank it.”

  “I see. Here’s your mount, Lieutenant.”

  The steed was a gelding, a little frisky but not too much to handle. Unlike the tall breeds she had worked with in Tiae, this mountain horse was of only medium height, stocky and sure-footed, perfect for use in the rocky and uncertain terrain of the mountains. Kira tried to strap on the belt holster the private had brought, her sore, battered fingers fumbling at the simple task. She paused to look at the cuts and scrapes, trying to identify the cause of any particular injury, but her mind offered up only a blur of activity over the recent past.

  “May I offer assistance?” the sergeant asked in a low voice that carried real respect.

  “No, thank you,” Kira said. “I’ll do it.” Working slowly and methodically, she got the holster on her belt.

  The sergeant waited, obviously prepared to help her mount, but Kira took a deep breath and swung herself up. Gritting her teeth, she made it into the saddle, feeling assorted parts of herself spasm with pain or simply protest the effort. But she wasn’t about to be helped into the saddle like some new recruit straight from a pumpkin farm.

  Smiling, the sergeant handed her the reins. Kira left them loose, guiding her mount with her seat and her legs. Lancers had to know how to direct their horses without the use of hands that had to be employed with weapons, and Kira wanted anyone watching to know that she really was a Lancer. The gelding was a well-trained and responsive mount, allowing her to relax and enjoy the ride.

  She rode slowly
through the camp, trying not to notice the stares that followed her and the pointing fingers. Soldiers she met rendered salutes, and Kira returned them. She passed a major and a captain and saluted them, earning herself bemused looks as they acknowledged the gesture.

  As Kira rode, she realized why she had been restless. Being inside the tent had felt too confining, like another prison to be escaped. Even knowing how hard it was to walk had been difficult to bear, since that meant she couldn’t easily get away if trouble erupted. But mounted on a fresh horse, Kira felt those fears subside. If she wanted to, she could ride off to the west, urging her mount to a gallop, all of the Northern Ramparts open to her until the mountains gave way to the great plains outside of Ihris.

  She wasn’t trapped. She could ride hard in any direction. It was amazing how good that felt.

  Kira steadied her seat in the back of the saddle and pressed lightly with both legs, bringing her horse to a stop. She looked north, up the slope, to where the cliff face loomed. It didn’t seem that far away. The bodies of the fallen had already been collected, but Kira had no trouble identifying the rocks where she and Jason had fought the legionaries. The cliff-face behind those rocks was spalled where numerous bullets had struck, giving it a rough, pockmarked appearance even from this distance. Dark stains marked the rocks where blood had been shed. Jason’s blood, along with that of the legionaries who had attacked them.

  Kira shivered as if a cold wind had found its way inside her uniform jacket and turned away, not wanting to view that place again.

  Looking away from the north took her gaze to the southwest. The prisoners of war were gathered there, including among them the legionaries who had almost killed her and Jason.

  Kira gazed down toward the prisoners, trying to sort out her thoughts and feelings. She shifted her weight in the saddle, pressing lightly with her outside leg and opening her inside leg a bit to turn the cavalry mount that way.

  She rode up to the nearest mass of prisoners, confined behind the same sort of temporary corral as the horses, a heavy guard set around the perimeter with carbines at the ready. But the prisoners of war didn’t appear to pose any danger. They sat closely together in the field, slumping wearily, looking both tired and beaten.

  Kira stopped her horse, looking at the legionaries over the heads of the guards.

  She hadn’t known what she would feel when gazing on the men and women who had pursued them and nearly killed Jason. She feared to feel hatred for them, and rejected the thought of fearing them. As Kira gazed on the prisoners, she realized that she too felt tired, but also victorious, glad she had won but also regretful for those who had died.

  Some of the prisoners were looking her way. They wore the uniforms of Imperial sailors, crewmembers from some of Prince Maxim’s ships. Kira saw recognition blooming in their eyes, followed by something else. Fear? Awe? Disbelief? Or all of those things?

  The prisoners whispered among themselves, word of who was watching them spreading rapidly among the dense group. Kira could see the results move through the prisoners like a wave as they turned to look at her.

  She finally, fully understood why her mother hated so much any supposed connection with Mara, the Dark One. People like Prince Maxim probably enjoyed seeing fear in the eyes of those who looked upon them, but Kira found it painful. She had used that weapon against the Imperials out of necessity, but now wished that she had not. It was not easy having men and women look at you as if you were a monster.

  The legionaries were shifting around within their confined area, but didn’t seem to be moving toward the edges of their prison. The guards around the edge took note, eyes alert and weapons at ready, but none of the Imperials moved any closer to the guards. Watching them, Kira gradually realized that the women legionaries were edging toward her while pushing the males behind them, placing themselves between Kira and the men her supposed unnatural appetites might threaten.

  That didn’t feel very good, either.

  She looked over the Imperials facing her, seeing a female centurion in the front rank. Kira gestured. “You. Come here.”

  The centurion walked toward Kira with the demeanor of someone walking to her execution and determined not to show a trace of fear. Behind her, the other Imperials watched with looks of dread.

  Kira considered dismounting to speak with the centurion, realized how awkward she would look because of her stiff body and injuries, and instead chose to lean forward on her horse.

  “There’s something I want you to know,” Kira said. “Something I want you to tell the others. You are prisoners now, and you will be treated with all of the respect and dignity that honorable prisoners of war deserve. Once this war is over, none of you need fear me, or my mother, or my father. Not unless the Empire once again attacks us or any of its neighbors.”

  “And our families?” the centurion asked, her expression unyielding. “What of our families near Umburan?”

  “The Free Cities do not war on the innocent. Neither does General Flyn, who commands. You know of him from the war against the Great Guilds. You know I speak the truth.”

  “What of you, daughter of Mara?”

  “I also do not war on the innocent,” Kira said, keeping her temper by a heroic effort. “Do not ever call me that again. My name is Kira of Dematr. My mother is Master Mechanic Mari of Dematr, the daughter of Jules. The only Dark Ones in this world are those who pursue war for their own profit or benefit. They threaten your children, not me. How many in your legion have died in this invasion?”

  The centurion remained silent, her eyes on Kira.

  “In exchange for your obedience, your rulers owe you respect!” Kira said. “How many lives has Prince Maxim thrown away in pursuit of me? Look at me, Centurion! How many deaths am I worth?”

  The centurion shook her head. “Such decisions are not mine to make.”

  “You have a right to be respected,” Kira repeated. “Your lives should not be thrown away like broken toys. I do not want to fight the legions again. I will only if I have to. But if I have to, I will fight just as hard.”

  “I understand.”

  “I’m truly sorry for those who died. Will their families be looked after?”

  The centurion nodded. “That is an obligation the emperor has never neglected.” She studied Kira, the centurion's eyes lingering on the large bandage below Kira's jaw. “You put up a hard fight. There is no shame in our failure to defeat you.”

  “There is no shame,” Kira said.

  She was about to dismiss the centurion when the legionary spoke up. “I request to speak.”

  Kira nodded, quieting her mount. “Go ahead.”

  “It is said that you met Princess Sabrin.”

  “Yes,” Kira said.

  “Alone? She had no guards or followers?”

  “Princess Sabrin was alone,” Kira said, thinking of their first meeting in the passageway of Maxim’s flagship.

  “Why did you not harm her?”

  Kira considered her answer carefully, trying to recall everything she had heard of Mara and her relationship with the first emperor, Maran, who had supposedly been the only one who could control Mara. And remembering how Sabrin had helped her escape from the harbor by providing a boat. Maxim was still out there somewhere, still enjoying the prestige and benefits of being an Imperial prince, while those he had heedlessly ordered into battle were dead or wounded or prisoners.

  What would best support the position of Sabrin?

  “I could not,” Kira finally said. That was true enough, because she couldn’t bring herself to kill or injure anyone without cause, and Sabrin had given her no cause, but the Imperials would probably interpret that very differently.

  They did. The other Imperials had been listening. Kira saw the wave of reaction through them at her words. Sabrin, they now thought, could control Kira despite Kira’s supposed dark powers.

  She addressed the centurion once more, speaking in calm tones that made her words sound even more chilling. “
But if ever I meet Prince Maxim again, I will rip his rotten heart from his chest as it still beats. He fears me. And he should.”

  From the look in the eyes of the centurion, her words had been taken literally. “What if the war is over?”

  “My quarrel is with Maxim,” Kira said. “Not with the people of the Empire. May you all return safely to your homes and families when this war has ended.”

  The centurion nodded. She hesitated, then saluted Kira in the Imperial fashion.

  Kira returned the salute in the manner of Tiae.

  As Kira turned away to ride back north, she saw that General Flyn sat his horse nearby, doubtless having been told where Kira was. “What was that about?” he asked as they rode slowly side by side through the camp.

  “Facing my fears,” Kira told him.

  “That is something I usually advise doing,” Flyn said. “But you also ventured into Imperial politics at the end. I think that your mother would want me to warn you against that. Even the sharpest and most ruthless players can find themselves in too deep when they enter that swamp.”

  Kira couldn’t help a short laugh. “General, I respect your warning, but Imperial politics reached out and dragged me into that swamp. I came very close to drowning in it.”

  “Princess Sabrin is not your friend.”

  “I know that. But she understands loyalty, General. I can see truth or lies in people, as my father taught me. And she is smart. Smarter by far than Maxim, who thinks he’s the smartest person in Palandur.”

  “Smart enough to realize how foolish it is to attack your family?” Flyn shrugged. “Perhaps. But you remain a pawn to her. She will sacrifice you without remorse if needed to advance her position.”

  “I know,” Kira said, remembering the way that Sabrin had appraised her. “I heard we've beaten the legions that entered the Northern Ramparts. Can you tell me what's next?”

  Flyn sighed heavily. “It's not over.”

  “But I heard you're not striking for Umburan.”

  “We're not. Your mother offered the same wise advice she did twenty years ago, and fortunately the Free Cities listened once more. But there's a major attack heading for the Sharr Isles. The Imperials are going to be ejected from those islands once and for all.”