Blood of Dragons

by Jack Campbell

  He finally spotted a flash that told of a Mechanic rifle firing. With the illusion of heat already glowing above his palm, Alain sent it instantly to that window.

  A shriek of pain answered as the air near the sniper became intensely hot. Flames flickered at the window as the wood caught fire.

  “How many are there?” Mari, her pistol out, demanded of the legionary officer.

  “Five or six, I think.” The legion commander listened intently to her far-talker over the sound of the shots continuing to be fired in their direction. “My forces are moving in. Sir Master of Mages, I request that you not launch any more attacks.”

  “It is well for you,” Alain said, “that I can tell your surprise at this attack is genuine.”

  “My orders were to see that this arrangement was carried out! Orders from the emperor’s own hand! We were also ordered to ensure that the daughter was not harmed, and you see we have followed those orders! Those who fired on us are traitors!”

  Another bullet struck the pavement nearby, ricocheting back into the sky. Alain lunged to the side, placing himself as well between Mari and whoever was shooting.

  “Alain!” Mari shouted angrily, but before she could berate him for risking himself to protect her, a flurry of shots erupted from the buildings.

  Bracing himself for those bullets to strike nearby, or to strike him, Alain realized that the new shots had not been aimed this way. He looked toward the buildings, seeing the dark red uniforms of legionaries swarming about them.

  The bell of a fire alarm began insistently clanging as someone summoned the city fire wardens to deal with the building that Alain's counterstrike had set aflame.

  The legionary commander listened again to her far-talker, then turned to check the ambassador. “We need healers here,” she called. “Two wounded. Get the healers here fast.”

  Alain saw Mari crouching beside Councilor Glyn and realized she was rendering first aid. He stood, watching as Mage Alera got up and stared into the sky. “How is Swift?”

  Alera blinked rapidly as she looked up. “Hurt and scared. It is safe?”

  “It is safe,” Alain said.

  Mage Saburo gestured to Mage Alera. “Come. We will ride Hunter to meet Swift so you may calm him.”

  Alera scrambled onto Hunter with Saburo, and the remaining Roc rose with a brief hurricane of wind as Hunter's huge wings pumped the air.

  Which left Alain and Mari alone with the Imperials. He gave her a flat look, knowing she would understand his meaning.

  “All right,” Mari said. “You were right. It was dangerous.”

  Alain glanced at the legion commander, who betrayed to a Mage's eyes both anger and shame at the attack on those she had been ordered to protect. “You were also right,” Alain said. “The offer was sincere.”

  Healers were running across the square, dropping down beside Councilor Glyn and the ambassador.

  The legion commander stepped away to allow the healers to work, nodding to Alain and Mari. “Several of the traitors were killed, but we have three prisoners. I directed that they be brought to me.”

  Alain saw a squad of legionaries walking their way, among them two men and a woman in the clothing of ordinary common folk. As they drew closer, Alain saw that one of the men, the youngest of the three, had bad burns on his hands and one side of his face, the marks of Alain's heat spell. The young man was consumed by pain, trembling and stumbling, but the hardfaced legionaries herding the prisoners showed no trace of concern.

  The other two presented outward attitudes of defiance, but their underlying fear was obvious to a Mage.

  The legion commander, looking ready to commit murder then and there, yanked a dagger from the belt of one of her legionaries and held the naked blade up in front of the prisoners. “Start talking.”

  The three looked back, the burned man shaking with pain, but none of them spoke.

  “Hold it.” Mari stepped forward, looking over the prisoners. “I know you,” she said to the woman.

  The woman stared straight ahead, saying nothing, her jaw clenched.

  Alain, having seen something in the prisoner’s repressed reaction to Mari’s words, stepped up beside Mari. “Ask her if she is a Mechanic.”

  “Are you a Mechanic?”

  Once again, silence answered her, but Alain had seen the reactions the prisoner had not been able to suppress. “She is.”

  Mari frowned, turning to look back toward the old Mechanics Guild Hall, then at the prisoner again. “There. That’s where I saw you. You…you were an apprentice at the same time I was.”

  “She’s a Mechanic?” the legion commander said, her tone gone from hot to dangerously cold.

  “So is he!” Mari said, pointing to the uninjured man. “Senior Mechanic Tod! He was at Caer Lyn.”

  “An old friend?”

  “No,” Mari said. “He never liked me, and the feeling was mutual. What Tod liked was lording it over apprentices and Mechanics.”

  Senior Mechanic Tod stared at the pavement and said nothing.

  “Two Mechanics in a group of three,” the imperial officer said. “And perhaps more. Once we have finished interrogating them—”

  “I can tell you about your daughter!” the Mechanic first identified by Mari suddenly yelled, her fear out in the open. “You remember me, Mari! Jil of Caer Lyn! You wouldn’t leave a fellow Mechanic like this! Not someone you apprenticed alongside!”

  “What can you tell me?” Mari asked, trying to sound calm. Alain heard the skepticism and hostility in her voice, but he did not think any of the others here could.

  “I was on Maxim’s ship! Operating under his orders! Imperial orders!” Jil looked around, trying to judge the impact of her words on the legionaries. “I offered to help your daughter, but—”

  “You lie,” Alain said, his voice totally impassive, but powerful enough to immediately cut off the flow of words.

  Mechanic Jil hesitated. “I did everything I could—”

  “You lie.”

  “I didn’t hurt her!”

  Alain studied Jil for a moment. “How would Kira react if she saw you again?” The Mechanic said nothing, but the answer was obvious to the eyes of a Mage. “They did not part on friendly terms,” Alain told Mari.

  “Because of him!” Jil said, pointing to the prisoner who had been burnt by Alain’s spell. “He was the other Mechanic on the ship and—” She realized what she had said and hesitated before plunging onward. “And he said terrible things to her. Your daughter attacked him and told him never to come back! That’s true!”

  “She withholds something, but that much is so,” Alain told Mari.

  “Another Mechanic,” the legion commander said. “Three of three. And two who were recently in Imperial employ.”

  Mari shook her head. “You already know who must have given them their orders. The Grand Master of what remains of the Mechanics Guild. Sheltered in the Empire after the Guild’s authority was shattered elsewhere. This is a viper the Empire has held close to its heart.”

  The legion commander shifted her gaze from the prisoners to Mari. “They attacked you because of a desire for revenge.”

  Alain saw the suppressed reactions in Mechanic Jil and Senior Mechanic Tod. “That was not the only purpose. It is an old game for the Great Guilds, to play common people against each other. What would have happened had you and Mari been killed or seriously injured? A terrible battle in Caer Lyn and the rest of the Sharr Isles, sowing chaos and fueling an immense war in the hopes of perhaps causing enough damage to offer the remnants of the Guild a foothold to regain power.”

  The legion commander gestured for the legionaries to bring Mechanic Jil forward, stepping close to her. “If you tell us all that you know, the emperor might be forgiving of your crimes,” she said to Jil in a low voice. “The emperor is merciful. Help us, and we'll help you.”

  “I…yes,” Jil whispered in reply, her terror now easily visible. But when her eyes rested on Mari, Alain saw no sign
of real remorse or friendship.

  “Take those two for questioning,” the commander ordered her legionaries, indicating the two male legionaries. “Take this one to the embassy. Make sure no one harms her.”

  The commander grinned conspiratorially at Mari and Alain as the three Mechanics were led away. “Torturing those two won't provide any useful information. It never does. But an unexpected offer of honey can make words flow.” Her smile vanished. “Does our agreement stand?”

  Mari nodded. “Evacuate all of your forces from the Sharr Isles, without fighting, and I will guarantee their safe passage to Landfall. Your forces will, of course, leave their weapons here.”

  The legion commander's eyes narrowed. “We have not been defeated.”

  “Yes, you have been,” Mari said, her tone unyielding. “Thanks to the actions of Maxim, you are in a hopeless position. The emperor knows that, and wants your lives spared. Weapons like rifles can be easily replaced. Men and women cannot.”

  “Sidearms,” the commander insisted after a long moment. “Officers are to retain their sidearms and swords. All other legionaries retain their swords. To surrender our swords without a fight would be unthinkable.”

  Mari nodded. “I agree.”

  “And we will undertake one more operation before leaving this island,” the commander added, pointing toward the Mechanics Guild Hall. “We will clean out that place, and find any evidence of crimes against the Empire.”

  “Anyone inside who wishes to renounce membership in the Guild, their sincerity judged by Mages, must be allowed to remain in the Sharr Isles,” Mari said.

  “Very well. If you and Sir Master of Mages Alain will excuse me, I have a nest of vipers to clean out before I hear the song sung by one who wishes to save her neck.” The commander gave Mari one more look. “Do you care about her fate?”

  “She made her decisions a long time ago,” Mari said. “We all have to live with the consequences of our decisions.”

  “Yes, Lady. We all do.” The legionary commander saluted and walked off, calling out orders.

  “You were right,” Alain murmured once more to Mari.

  “So were you,” she murmured back. “Blast. Jil. I'd almost forgotten her.”

  “She clearly never forgot you.”

  Alain sensed another Mage approaching and turned to look, seeing an old woman in Mage robes. The woman paused before them, her Mage impassiveness giving no hint of her purpose. “This one sensed that one casting a spell. Is that one Master of Mages Alain?”

  “This one is,” Alain replied.

  “This one has a message for that one. The one Mage Asha sends that the one Kira and the one Jason are safe. Injuries are to both, the one Jason shot by a Mechanic weapon, but that one is in no danger. The one Kira sends…” The old Mage hesitated, as if uncertain of the next word. “Love. Love to the mother and father.”

  Alain found himself unable to speak for a moment. Mari closed her eyes and laughed softly, then looked at the old Mage. “Can this one ask that one to send a reply message? This one will pay.”

  “This one accepts,” the old Mage replied.

  “Send to that one Mage Asha for that one Kira and that one Jason, love.”

  “I do not know this word love,” the Mage grumbled. “Is that the message?”

  “Tell them also we will meet them in Marida.”

  * * *

  Two days later, Kira woke to hear excited conversations outside the tent. Calu soon entered, grinning. “Mari did it. The Imperials are evacuating from the Sharr Isles, and the emperor has personally promised no further aggression. Between the defeat of the legions in these mountains and the imperial retreat from the Isles, the West is celebrating a win that should satisfy popular demand for retribution. It'll take a while to work out the details, but it looks like this war got damped out long before it could peak. Flyn has received orders to bring the prisoners to Marida so they can be returned to the Imperials under a vow that they not be used outside the borders of the Empire again.”

  Mari sat on her cot, looking over at Jason. He had recovered fairly rapidly with enough food and water and other care, but was still weak and confined to the cot. “We're going to make it to Marida after all, my hero.”

  He grinned. “Next time we decide to visit the Free Cities, can we do it without being chased all over the place?”

  “I'll see what I can do.”

  It took a while to get down out of the mountains. Kira had recovered enough to be able to ride without much discomfort, and Suka proved a reliable and affectionate mount. But Jason had to travel in a wagon for the wounded. Losses had been light enough, and most of the badly hurt already sent back to Alexdria, that Jason had the wagon to himself.

  As the column of soldiers moved south toward the coast, Kira rode beside Jason's wagon, always close, and when the column made camp Kira sat nearby while the healers checked him over. She stayed with him through the nights, sleeping near.

  On the second day of travel, Kira paused as she bent to drink from a bucket of water, remembering the buckets she had drunk from on Maxim's ship. She looked at the image reflected in the water, a young woman soldier whose face bore scrapes and bruises and a large bandage under one jaw. The eyes of the soldier held a shadow deep inside, where recent memories lived. Was that really her?

  “Admiring yourself?” Calu asked from nearby.

  “Trying to recognize myself,” Kira admitted.

  “You still look like Mari. She got banged up a lot, too. Oh, bad news. Boiled bacon and beans for dinner.”

  Kira shook her head. “Do you know how amazing it is to have food, Uncle Calu? To be able to eat when you're hungry? I am never going to take that for granted again. Even if it is boiled bacon and beans.”

  As they traveled, more soldiers joined them as different units which had been fighting the legions and searching for Kira and Jason returned, many with their own prisoners in tow. By the time they wended through the pass just north of Marida and headed down toward the city, the column was an impressive thing indeed.

  As they began the descent from the pass to Marida, a messenger rode back from the front of the column, saluting Kira. “Captain Kira, General Flyn has received information that he wanted passed on to you. Princess Sabrin has been declared the Crown Princess of the Empire.”

  “She has?” Kira smiled slightly, remembering her last sight of the princess. “Maxim must be upset.”

  “The same message reported that Prince Maxim is dead, Captain.”

  “Dead?” Kira inhaled sharply, thinking of her mother and father. “How?”

  “The report says only that he had an accident while returning to Palandur.”

  Kira rode in silence for a moment, thinking of Maxim’s assaults on her, his kidnapping of her, and how many had died because of him.

  “Captain?” the messenger asked. “Do you have a reply for General Flyn?”

  “Tell him I’m sorry I won’t have to be the one who kills Maxim,” she said.

  “Yes, Captain.” The messenger saluted again before riding back to the front of the column.

  “Kira?”

  She looked over and down to Jason on his litter on the wagon. “Are you all right, love?”

  “Yeah, um…” Jason looked at her with troubled eyes as Kira rode beside the wagon. “Did you mean that? About Maxim?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you hate killing. Kira, don’t let him do that to you.”

  She paused, breathing slowly, thinking. “He had to be stopped.”

  “Yeah. That's true.”

  “I wonder if he's really dead?” Kira added.

  “Can't your mom and dad find out for sure?”

  “If anybody can, they can.” She looked at him again, remembering how he had come to help her and stood by her. Those memories formed a beacon of light amid the darker ones. “Hey, Jason.”

  “What?”

  “Will you promise yourself to me?”

  “You already as
ked me that,” Jason said, smiling.

  “I just want to hear it again.”

  “Yes, Kira, I want to promise myself to you. You still want me, huh?”

  “More than ever,” Kira said.

  “Will you promise yourself to me?”

  “Yes, if you still want me. You do realize people are probably going to keep trying to kill me? It’s kind of a family tradition, I guess.”

  “That's okay. I guess they'll try to kill me, too, since I'm going to be in their way when they come after you.”

  “Did I mention the other family traditions?” Kira said.

  “What other traditions?” Jason asked.

  “Nothing. No big deal. Forget I mentioned it.”

  “What traditions?”

  “Nothing you can’t handle, Jason.”

  “I’d still feel better if I knew what they were!”

  She laughed, noticing Mage Asha and Mechanic Calu watching them and smiling. And that was good, too.

  * * *

  They entered Marida through a great northward-facing gate, the plains outside the city and the streets inside crowded with throngs come to see and cheer for Lady Mari and her Mage, and for the Free Cities soldiers who had once again given the Empire a harsh lesson on staying out of the Northern Ramparts.

  Kira had never ridden with a victorious military force before, and she was startled by the mixture of exhilaration and relief she felt as they rode through the streets of Marida past the cheering crowds. She and Jason had survived. The world was a place of astonishing and unexpected beauty.

  To her surprise, the cheers following the column of soldiers seemed to redouble around her and Jason, and then to her astonishment Kira heard her name being chanted by the crowds. “Dragon slayer! Conqueror of legions! Daughter of the sea!”

  “Who do they think I am?” Kira wondered out loud.

  “Just don't forget who you really are,” Calu advised from close behind.

  “They should be cheering for Jason, too. Jason!” Kira cried, pointing toward him in the wounded wagon. “Jason of Urth!”

  Those nearest in the crowd took up the shout, and Kira grinned at Jason as he looked around, embarrassed.

  Finally the head of the column reached a broad open area near the piers, normally used for transferring cargo to and from the ships that came to Marida. “Captain Kira! Jason of Urth! Forward!”