Again silence from the ancient creature. More time passed. I just wanted to head home. By now Ansel would be worrying about us. I had promised him we would be back in Dorsal no later than three days time. At this point, if we left now, it would be over four days he hadn’t heard from us. An uneasiness filled my chest.
“Eshshah and Amáne,” the old dragon said, “thank you for your engrossing story. It’s been too long since I’ve heard from your world. I take pity in your plight and wish you success in uprooting the usurper.
“As to the eggs that will not hatch, it appears where they are held is cursed or polluted in some way. If you remove them from the area, they will recover.
“But the concerns and squabbles of humans have rarely been events in which we have taken part. Our last human contact came when Sitara arrived with Leyna, who has since met with her ancestors. Leyna’s company was delightful, her passing saddened me. Perhaps it was Leyna’s information you followed to find this island. I see no reason for our involvement in your affairs. The dragons of Teravinea have passed.” Another angry rumble quaked in Senolis’ chest. “Our interference will not bring them back.”
My heart sank. All this time, I thought his questions and interest in Teravinea were to solidify his decision to come to our aid. It served only to gratify his curiosity of the outside world.
“Don’t be discouraged, Amáne. I see your cause to be as worthy as you believe it to be. You will find a way to succeed — without the valley’s dragons. I can sense your strong character and your sincerity of heart. You must persevere and continue to accept whatever befalls you. Remember to be patient when you come upon great misfortune, because it is in fire gold is refined.”
My breath left me. His words nearly matched those my mother had uttered on her dying bed.
He continued his prophetic words. “Through your trials you have brought hope, and through them perhaps attainment of that for which you fight. I see that one day you could be a leader, but you have two weaknesses that may be your undoing. Your stubbornness and your pride. In truth, at this moment, your fate hangs by a thread. I only see what may be. It is up to you to direct your life.”
My stomach twisted at his foretelling. There was nothing for me to say in response. I simply bowed in respect.
Senolis turned to my dragon. “Eshshah, your duty and devotion to your rider is noble. Notwithstanding, my advice to you is to remain strong in your convictions and guide Amáne away from imprudent decisions. Mastering this will ensure a long life together.”
Eshshah touched her nose to the ground.
“Go in peace, young ones. You are welcome back when you so desire. Bring the Drekinn with you.”
With a nod to Eshshah and I, he turned and disappeared into his cave.
Utterly defeated, I couldn’t stop my tears as I mounted the saddle. I turned to Sitara and Dinesh. “We are honored to have met you. I hope one day our paths cross again. We have much to talk about. But now we must take our leave.”
I gave Eshshah the word to at last head for home.
We flew swiftly — straight south, a more direct flight than if we’d gone by way of Trivingar. I decided to fly to the Dorsal Outpost and contact Ansel from there, rather than approach him in person. I would also get hold of the Healer from the outpost. I was a little afraid of facing her, too.
Ansel always tolerated my poor decisions, but something ate at me this time. As much as I longed for his embrace, I feared confronting him in person. Why couldn’t I have thought this trip out before I just jumped into it? Nonetheless, I convinced myself he could be persuaded to see my reasoning. He would appreciate my effort.
Even at the speeds at which Eshshah flew, it was still about nine or ten hours of travel before Eshshah spotted the outpost. I put my misgivings behind me and looked forward to telling Ansel, Gallen and the Healer of our findings.
At last, familiar territory. I could see the scattered islands in the blue waters of our bay.
“Amáne! Sovann and Lord Ansel are at the outpost!”
My heart skipped. At once I was excited to see him, but in the next beat, a twinge of apprehension shot through me.
“What are they doing there?”
“I don’t know, but Sovann says Lord Ansel is angry.”
I took a deep breath as the outpost came into view. I could just make out the small figure of Ansel, pacing — watching our approach. As we came closer I gasped at the sight of him. He looked a wreck, disheveled. The desperate look on his face stopped my heart.
I unbuckled myself before Eshshah touched down. Sliding off I ran toward Ansel, anxious for his embrace, but stopped short. The wild look in his eyes frightened me.
“Ansel? I ...”
“What do you mean by this, Amáne?” he shouted only inches from my face.
He had every right to be angry, having no idea what had become of Eshshah and me. My heart hurt thinking of the anguish I’d put him through.
“I’m sorry, Ansel. I was only trying to ...”
“Did you, or did you not go out on your own decision to chase after some legendary dragons?”
I wasn’t surprised he had figured it out. “They’re not ...”
“Do you know what you’ve done?”
Without waiting for my answer, he repeated, louder, “Do you know what you’ve done, Amáne?
“I haven’t done anything. I’m sorry if I went without telling you or the Healer. I just wanted to ...”
“You don’t get it, do you? You have no idea.”
“What, Ansel? You’re scaring me.”
“You should be scared. You, a sworn dragon rider, have decided you know better than the Council. That you can make up your own quest without so much as conferring with anyone — without going through the proper channels and discussions on your safety and that of your dragon. You went rogue.”
“No, let me explain ...” but my words froze in my throat.
He looked closely at me. His eyes focused on my right cheek. My hand went to my face. There must still be some henna tattoo left. He shook off whatever question he seemed about to ask, turned his back on me and cursed.
Ansel strode to the fireplace at the far wall. His breath released in a sound of agony. He pounded his fist on the mantelpiece.
“Do you know the extent of your violation, Amáne?” He began to pace the floor. His hands raked through his hair.
“Violation? No,” I whispered.
He pulled up and faced me, his eyes piercing. “It’s called insubordination.” The word came out slowly, each syllable pronounced.
I was confused with his anguish. “I said I was sorry, Ansel. I didn’t mean to be gone so long. I didn’t mean to do this to you.”
“Insubordination, Amáne! This is not just about what you did to me. You obviously don’t realize the seriousness of this charge.”
I shook my head.
He took several strides before he spun around and came back. He stopped directly in front of me and put his hands on my shoulders, gripping tighter than necessary. I was terrified.
Barely in control of his voice, it quavered as he whispered, “Amáne ... the maximum penalty ... for this crime ... is ... death ...”
My knees went weak. I felt the blood drain from my face.
Ansel let go of me and cleared his throat. “I’ll go before the Council and plead leniency for you. I’ll do whatever I can, but your fate will be decided by a majority vote. It’s not my sole decision.”
He started pacing again, pulling his hair and cursing. My stomach churned. My body shook.
“If I ever gain my throne,” he went on almost to himself, “how would it look for a king to not know the whereabouts of his queen — if she takes it upon herself to go off on a whim?”
I froze, queen? I hoped one day I would marry him, but the thought never fully formed in my mind — I would be queen. But now, it may be a future no longer attainable. I’d overstepped my bounds. I’ve lost his trust. That, in itself was worse than t
he penalty of death. He must have felt betrayed — as if his love for me didn’t matter. It does.
I took a deep breath and turned to him to try to salvage a thread of whatever faith he had left in me.
His hand commanded me to stay silent.
His eyes filled. “I’ll always love you, Amáne, but you were right all along.” He tried in vain to blink back his tears. “You can’t mix duty with desire. It just doesn’t work.” He backed away.
“No, Ansel. Please don’t. Don’t do this!”
My knees gave out. I sunk down and sat on my heels. My hand started to reach out toward him, but went instead to my breast. I felt as if my heart would fail.
The pain showed in his eyes. He squeezed them shut. When he opened them, his jaw clenched. Taking in a deep breath, his voice became cold and authoritative. “You will remain here until the Healer contacts you. That is a direct order. Is that understood, dragon rider?”
I bowed my head, and gave a nearly imperceptible nod. My eyes followed him as he turned and strode briskly to Sovann. He mounted. Sovann pushed off and dove from the ledge.
“Ansel,” I whispered.
I sat on the floor in utter disgrace as Sovann and Ansel grew smaller in the distance. I had to turn my back until my darkness passed. But it wouldn’t pass. My life, or what was left of it, would be ruined by my stubbornness and my pride. The words of Senolis, the Ancient One, echoed in my head.
A shock went through me. “Eshshah, please tell me that Sovann hasn’t dismissed you as well.” That, I would not be able not take.
“No, Amáne.” She trudged over to me, as devastated as I, which added to my wretchedness. “I will, more than likely face punishment for insubordination, but this separation is between you and Ansel.”
“This is all my fault. You shouldn’t have to suffer a bit of punishment. I’m going to make certain that everyone understands you can’t be held to blame.”
“No matter. Whatever you must suffer, will affect me just as much.”
My remorse couldn’t bore any deeper. Exhausted, destroyed, I slumped forward. I rested my head on my arms on the cold stone floor, and cried until I succumbed to fatigue.
Between waking and giving in to exhaustion, I struggled to keep from falling off the edge of my despair. The last time Ansel was angry with me — I nearly laughed mid-thought, Ansel isn’t angry with me, he’s done with me — my depression affected Eshshah. I couldn’t repeat that selfishness. I had to hang on ... for her. Privately, I panicked when I thought what my death would do to her. I was sure they’d allow her to live. But, she’s bound by duty to the Drekinn throne. That and her commitment to Sovann would force her to remain in Teravinea. What a mess I’d made of the lives of all those I loved.
Thinking back to Ansel, I forced myself to face the fact his life would be miserable if he stayed with me. I’d never make a good queen. The truth was easy to see. I had to accept I would be living my life without Ansel — if I’m even allowed to live.
The days went by and still no word from the Healer. Maybe I should be the one to contact her, but my shame prevented me. I couldn’t bear to see the disappointment on the face of another person I loved. Besides, I had orders to wait until she contacted me. I might as well start obeying orders.
Each day I made an effort to drag myself out of bed; to get dressed; to face the day. In order to fight my depression, I had to keep myself busy, and make no time for thought. I awoke early one day and put myself to the task of scrubbing the entire outpost. From the library to the entry cavern, I oiled every piece of wood, washed or aired every item of bedding in the three bedchambers. Another day, I brought all forms of weapons outside — spears, swords, daggers, throwing knives, crossbows, longbows and I practiced relentlessly. The trees on the island suffered dearly that day. Eshshah and I went on many flights, and worked at consoling each other.
My efforts were only partially successful. I couldn’t shake the burning reality that my crime could be punishable by death. I hoped with every fiber I wouldn’t have to pay that price. But right now not knowing our fate was the worst punishment we could have been given. I deserved this, not Eshshah. She had tried to talk some sense into me. I didn’t listen. I had shirked my sworn duty.
Our days moved slowly forward at the Dorsal Outpost, until one dreary day — it may have been the fifth day, or maybe the sixth. At early light I jerked awake from a nightmare when I felt Eshshah’s alarm.
“What is it, Eshshah?”
“Someone’s out there.”
“Is it Sovann and Ansel?” Was I mad to even think that?
“No!” She got up quickly and headed to the entryway. My heart beat wildly as I threw a tunic over the sleeveless chemise I’d slept in. Pulling on my tights, I stumbled down the corridor to the entryway. In the next breath, a deafening boom echoed through the cavern. I was thrown against the wall as the outpost quaked.
“We’re being attacked, Amáne!”
I made my way to the entry. We’d left the large stone door open the night before. My heart froze in my chest. Anchored in the deeper water was a great galleon, its port side angled toward us, cannons smoking. The open entry must have attracted their attention. Several rowboats were holding just outside the shore break, awaiting the end of the assault before heading in to our beach.
“Quickly, Eshshah, to the library! I need to contact the Healer. We have to get geared up. If we can’t stop the galleon here, its next destination will be Dorsal.”
I closed the entry, hoping the massive door would sustain another barrage. We raced to the communication disc.
Placing my hand on the knob that protruded under the glass disc, I said, “Gyan,” and then “Nara.” I tried to even my breathing and stop my tremors as I waited impatiently for the Healer to answer. After an interminable moment, her face shimmered into view.
Without any greeting or formality I shouted, “Healer, we’re being attacked! They’re firing on us! A galleon. I don’t recognize its markings. If we can’t stop it, Dorsal might be next.”
“Amáne,” the Healer exclaimed in alarm, “you need to — ” Before she could finish, the outpost shook with the next volley. The impact flung me from the communication disc. Her image disappeared.
Angry at losing the connection, I tried to get her back again, but the device had been jostled. There was no time to figure it out. We rushed to the tack area where I chose the smaller fighting saddle. I flung on Eshshah’s breastplate then saddle, thankful that Gallen had drilled us repeatedly on the importance of speed.
I buckled my breastplate and tugged on my dragon-scale boots, gauntlets, and helmet. Grabbing some spears, daggers, a bow and a few quivers, I jammed them in their places on the fighting saddle. I yanked a shield from the wall.
Our hearts quickened as we switched into fight mode. We charged out of the library. The outpost shuddered with another bombardment. We bolted down the corridor to the entry cavern. Eshshah held her step for a brief instant so I could climb her leg and hoist myself up into the saddle. She hardly missed a beat. I buckled into the boot pegs as we arrived at the ledge. We hoped our timing was right to avoid the next barrage.
The door slid open and we dove off.
Eshshah and I headed straight for the soldiers in the rowboats. We took them by surprise. Eshshah roared, causing several to throw themselves off the boats. More men tumbled into the sea as they were pitched off balance. The braver ones stood as if they would fight her with their spears. Some went for their arrows.
I took in a deep breath. “Go ahead, Eshshah, we have no choice. Flame them.”
She belched a massive inferno. Their screams were cut short as the men and rowboats went from flame to ash in seconds. The smell of burning flesh rose on the steam that came up from the churning water. I closed my eyes and wished them to their ancestors.
Racing toward the galleon, I could see alarm in the faces of the soldiers on board. Their beliefs instantly disproved if they thought there were no such creatures as
dragons.
Eshshah and I worked as one. We dove and dodged. Searching the deck for the commander, I let fly my arrows. Eshshah flamed at every pass. The sails were ablaze. More soldiers met their ancestors. Some had already abandoned ship, not dedicated enough to stand their ground.
Dragons’ ability to belch out flames was not inexhaustible. Eshshah needed to take a few minutes respite to replenish her combustion. On our next pass, I hurled all of the daggers I’d collected. Many found their mark. Arrows flew around us, bouncing harmlessly off Eshshah. Her tough scales and her breastplate made them useless. Only her wings were susceptible. She jerked when one would find its way through the leathery membrane. She assured me the pain was minimal. We would work to heal them once we returned to the outpost.
My shield was indispensable as a sea of shafts rushed toward us. The odds were against me, however, that I could fully protect myself from the onslaught. I yelped out in pain as one got by and lodged itself in my left upper arm. I felt it penetrate my bone. Eshshah flinched.
“I’m all right, Eshshah.”
Ignoring my pain, I melded with my dragon We continued to dive and flame the ship. I regretted the fact that we had not been trained in aerial battle. We both knew we were sorely missing in technique and strategy. If my life were not forfeited for my insubordination, I wanted that training without delay.
As we flew over the bow, I noted some activity in the forecastle — the high deck at the front of the ship. Soldiers clustered together. I never gave it a second thought.
Eshshah and I had gained the upper hand. The vessel listed dangerously. One more pass and it would be completely incapacitated. Victory.
We dove at breakneck speed for our final onslaught. Only the soldiers on the bow remained — the ship almost consumed by flame. My blood ran cold when I realized what they had concealed. It was a cannon, smaller and thinner than those on the port side that had fired on the outpost. I screamed at Eshshah when I realized our danger. But too late. They fired off a harpoon. Our only advantage was the inaccuracy of the weapon. Eshshah dodged the projectile hurtling straight at us. She couldn’t get completely clear. The harpoon whizzed by to our left and raked a deep gash in Eshshah’s thigh. She howled in pain. I screamed in anguish for my dragon.
Amane of Teravinea - The Crown (The Teravinea Series Book 3) Page 11