Five Kingdoms

by T. A. Miles

  “Tristus, jump!” Alere shouted from his position now beside Xu Liang, who appeared in familiar concentration.

  Tristus did as Alere urged, leaping for the wall, as if he had some hope of making it from the ground to their level. He was surprised and momentarily without breath to find that he was given a sudden, tremendous amount of lift. The sight of the ground moving away from him threatened to throw him off his balance—there was nothing to balance against—but he leaned his weight forward. The wall came directly. He struck the edge of the battlement, his torso smashing against the edge painfully enough that he almost failed to gain a grip.

  Alere was quickly there, hauling him up with the aid of others.

  The dragon remained below, not quite as tall as the city’s battlements without raising itself vertically, which its injuries may have been preventing. It scored its claws over the stone, then turned about and dragged itself across the yard.

  “Are you all right?” Alere asked Tristus, helping him to his feet.

  “Yes,” Tristus replied, ignoring the sharp sting around the injury he’d taken from the elder’s stone.

  Alere accepted his claim, moving off to join Xu Liang and the others at the wall. Tristus followed and all of them looked out across the yard. The damage done to it appeared worse with a higher vantage. More than one pavilion had been struck apart, statues and trees had been felled, and the palace at the center of the district was severely damaged on one side. The gates had all been closed to contain it within the immediate area, but it seemed unlikely that a creature of such strength wouldn’t be able to ram its way through any one of those gates with enough effort. As well, it might return below ground. Defeating it could be more difficult if that happened.

  Tarfan seemed to be thinking of that as well. “If it goes under, we’ll have a risky fight on us to get it out of its hole again.”

  “I imagine a cornered dragon is as dangerous as any other beast,” Alere said.

  Tarfan nodded. “Aye, we have smaller fiends tucked within the Stormbright Caverns. Hell getting them out. Worse fighting them while they’re tucked. They’re strikes are swift and deadly as a poisonous snake. The nasties within the caverns will spit a smoldering toxin at you; it’s how we lost Taya’s parents.”

  Tristus placed a hand on Tarfan’s shoulder, to acknowledge the mentioned loss, even if the dwarf wasn’t seeking sympathy for it in the moment.

  “And this dragon projects a destructive force of sound,” Shirisae said. “Our strategy would consist primarily of shielding.”

  Xu Liang spoke in Fanese, perhaps to relay the exchange of information to Jiao Ren and Guang Ci. Afterward, he said. “We will do all within our power to keep it at the surface.”

  Tarfan gave an approving nod, though his brow rose with unhappy anticipation of the fight ahead. Tristus patted his shoulder, taking the moment allowed them to catch his breath.

  Taya sat huddled near a pillar with a horde of ornately dressed strangers. She felt terrified and in the wrong place. The relief that came with her uncle and Guang Ci arriving was snatched away in a matter of moments when her uncle revealed that he had only come long enough to let her know that he wouldn’t abandon everyone else. As much as she was glad that he was standing by them, she couldn’t help that she wished that he’d stayed anyway. And if he couldn’t, then she wished she could be out there as well. She’d tried to join the fighting just once, because it seemed that they had no other choice. She would have a scar forever over it, Tristus’ insanity at the time might have been partly her fault, and now no one would let her near a weapon that wasn’t being wielded by someone else to protect her. A part of her was fine with that—she was terrible with a sword anyway, she’d learned. Still, she couldn’t imagine what she would do—or what might happen to her—if everyone else managed to get stomped by a dragon. She would be lost in a country where she only knew a handful of names in the language.

  Just when she felt like truly panicking over the stress of the ruckus from outside and the dangers it represented physically and emotionally, a woman who had been hovering near laid a hand on her arm. Taya looked up at her. She had a mature face, though it still appeared somewhat young. She spoke to Taya, and her tone wasn’t quite as condescending as many of the others had been. The woman still regarded her as if she was a child, but more in the way of knowing she had a child on her hands, who could think for herself. And that was all that Taya could make of her words.

  “I wish I knew what someone was saying,” Taya murmured, lowering her chin onto her hands.

  The woman touched her arm again, seeming to beckon.

  Taya looked at her once more. She held a slim hand with lacquered nails to the layered collar of her fancifully stitched robes of pink, red, and white, and said three words. “Song Bin Ce.”

  “Song…” Taya began to repeat. That was the Empress’ name—Song Da-Xiao, of the Song family. Their surnames came first! So, this woman was one of the royal family, then. Taya felt comfortable assuming that. How many Songs could there be who weren’t related? All of the Fairwinds were related, after all.

  Mimicking the woman’s gesture of indicating herself, Taya gave her own name.

  The woman didn’t smile, but nodded once for a span that Taya had seen Xu Liang doing when he was indicating acknowledgment or understanding. It was something. It made Taya feel a little less isolated. And then the woman began to speak to her in Fanese again, dampening the effect somewhat.

  Taya sighed quietly. A terrible crash sounded from outside and she jumped. When Song Bin Ce put an arm around her with what may have been a mother’s instinct, Taya scooted herself closer and decided she didn’t care about being treated like a child. There was a monster outside, trying to tear down the city and her friends. She’d only been as scared once before.

  “What about surrounding it? All of us attacking from different sides?”

  Xu Liang shook his head. “We will not draw the beast to the Empress. We will remain at a distance, and we will find a way to defeat it, without further endangering the court.”

  “Tell us what to do,” Tristus said, and Shirisae nodded afterward.

  “There is a way to defeat it,” Xu Liang said, perhaps as much for his own benefit as for theirs. He’d already implemented the strategies available to him to keep it contained, but he felt that would not last. His mind was currently sifting through tactics of assault. He had men, the Swords, and their bearers at hand.

  That was when Tarfan said, “What about…Pang Xiu?”

  Xu Liang looked at him. Everyone did, but it was only Xu Liang whose expression bore understanding, and also appreciation. The gratitude he felt for the dwarf in that moment could not be described.

  “I must have gotten the name right,” Tarfan murmured.

  The dwarf’s levity lifted some of the immediate weight from Xu Liang’s heart. He said, “Yes, you did. And you’re right. We shall turn to the teachings of Pang Xiu.”

  “For what?” Tristus asked.

  Xu Liang said to all of them, “For guidance on how to slay a dragon.”

  The walls that formed the Imperial City’s various sections were quite large. Full units were able to fit atop them and to traverse the stairs in number. Horses had no trouble navigating the wide stairs and walking along the battlements as if they were merely another road. The only creature too large to make adequate use of the architecture of the Fanese city was the dragon. Fortunately, the walls were too thick to be easily battered down by the beast. Its wailing assault would be what eventually broke through.

  Alere agreed that it needed to be stopped now, while it was above ground and contained. His assignment was the stomach. His method for getting it done would be simple enough, though he wished he had Breigh with him. Since he did not, the Fanese horse guided toward him would have to do.

  The animal came willingly, and obediently, as an animal trained
to serve a cavalry. An army could not afford skittish animals, nor animals that had preferences where riders were concerned. It had a set of commands impressed upon it from a young age and had been inured to a pattern of living that assured it recognized the difference between pasture and battlefield. This was the explanation Alere received of the animal, and it was self-evident, based upon Alere’s own experience as a soldier for hire, among humans. He stroked the horse’s rich brown muzzle for the sake of introduction, then swung himself into the saddle. It tolerated him with no issue.

  “Shirisae and I will begin the process at the north wall, above the arches,” Xu Liang reminded. “Your strike must follow ours, and it must be delivered quickly.”

  “It may not fall,” Alere forewarned.

  “It may not,” Xu Liang agreed. “I suspect that it will not, but I anticipate the wound will fester quickly.”

  “Based upon what?” Alere asked.

  “Based upon legends, which is all any of us have to rely on now.”

  “That’s not true,” Alere contradicted. “We have our instincts, and one another.”

  Xu Liang paused, seeming to process the offering late. And then he placed his hand briefly on Alere’s.

  Immediately following the gesture, Alere guided the horse around and in the direction of the stairs. Behind him, Xu Liang remained to finish going over their strategy with the others. After Alere, Tristus would make the attack on the spine. Guang Ci would follow through with the lungs and the heart was for Jiao Ren and the Sun Blade. The attacks would generate primarily from the west and north walls in an effort to keep the dragon occupied and away from the Empress’ centrally located palaces. Troops would rush out to secure the temple remains with the hope of deterring it from retreating underground. If the gods were willing to aid them, there would be a dragon defeated in the yard by sunset. If they were not, it might take the six of them longer.

  The dragon came fully around the yard in the moments Alere was positioning himself on top of the stairs. A clear path had been formed for him by the men at arms waiting to rush out just behind him in order to secure the beast’s best route for escape.

  The wall vibrated with the nearness of the creature. Shirisae planted her feet and managed to stay balanced. Her footing wasn’t at risk until Xu Liang ushered her forward before the dragon had fully passed. The mystic was affording the loss of not a single moment. She understood his urgency; this was his home and the home of his most revered leader. She and her brother would both have handled an attack on Vilciel in the same manner, with haste and efficiency.

  They moved as quickly as they were able along the wall, cornering the point where the north and west walls adjoined in order to place themselves in front of the dragon’s meandering path. Their goal was to blind it. Both the Storm Blade and the Moon Blade had the ability to channel their magic in a projecting path. Each of them had a fair chance at accomplishing their task and with one to protect the other, their chances of survival versus the still capable beast was better than for any of them to start the process alone. Shirisae agreed with the method, and privately she was pleased by it, since it meant that she would be required by the mystic’s side. Even regardless of the Phoenix, she had come to best appreciate her fights alongside Xu Liang. She admired his leadership, demonstrated even through ailment and weakness. She also felt as if there was no competition between them during combat, nor any leaning on his part to recall her gender, something that perhaps should have mattered in his culture, but that didn’t seem to matter to him. Like her, he seemed to only require the convincing of ability and the assurance of his faith in the gods, that they had ultimately placed the weapons in the hands that would best use them. He respected each of the bearers in that way. There had been no attempt made to wrest their weapons from them and to put them in the hands of Fanese warriors. Shirisae believed with full confidence that such had never been Xu Liang’s plan.

  “The dragon seems agitated by the light of Pearl Moon,” Xu Liang said while they hurried across the north wall, toward the center of it. “I will utilize that to our advantage by casting a shield. The shield will also protect us while you take aim at its eyes.”

  “It will not require much aim,” Shirisae told him. “Firestorm tends to know my targets and makes its own path. Like lightning, the magic makes a connection that is first unseen before it strikes.”

  It was evident, even in their rush that Xu Liang’s scholar mind was at work with the information that had been given to him. He fell immediately silent and the manner in which his brow creased suggested a new concentration. He excelled at more than one focus, however, and did not overlook the center position on the wall when they came to it.

  The dragon was agitated, seeking either escape or a target for its revenge. Possibly, it had only destruction on its mind—a beast of war awakened for a single purpose. Observing it, Shirisae could not firmly decide if this was destiny or a coincidence of nature.

  A veil of blue filtered her vision, which became not of a creature testily stomping over debris both human and structural, but of a spirit of chaos manifested to destroy. The swiftness of its focus while it made a sudden and direct path toward where she and Xu Liang stood was alarming. It launched its rending wail. Shirisae watched the air distort before them, a funneling of dust and debris expanding toward the wall, protected currently by Xu Liang and the Moon Blade. To delay would be to risk the mystic’s strength and possibly his safety. She raised Firestorm and looked into the glare of Chaos.

  Strands of silver reached for the dome, snatching into it, fortifying it against the dragon’s assault. The combined forces cracked the sky, arcing a heavy chain of power over the city. It scattered in all directions through the air, seeming to redistribute the dragon’s assault. The sound rolled overhead, like thunder. Xu Liang lowered the Moon Blade afterward, and Shirisae thrust Firestorm toward the dragon, setting loose a second chain of magic, which snaked around the dragon’s neck and head. The light disturbed and distracted it.

  Alere was already on his way, daring fate as only one of the Verressi could.

  Finding a place from which to strike at the spine of such a beast was not so easy as it seemed in idea. Tristus was to take advantage of the dragon’s preoccupation with the others in order to stage his attack. The simplest part was returning to the ground level. From there, he and a handful of soldiers—plus one stubborn dwarf—made their way quickly and discreetly to one of the intact buildings. The one selected appeared a string of residences or offices with all of the rooftops connecting to one another. One of the soldiers, carrying a ladder, propped it against the building and anchored it with Tarfan’s help.

  “Thank you,” Tristus said to both of them. To Tarfan alone, he said, “See to it that you make it back to the wall in time, Master Fairwind.”

  “See to it, pup, that you get your backside onto that roof in time,” the dwarf quipped in return.

  “How is Alere managing?” Tristus asked.

  Tarfan took a look around. “Can’t see so much as a feather of him,” came the report.

  The owl feather he wore. Tristus recalled while he set about climbing. When he made it onto the canted roof, a man passed his spear up to him. He stood once he had it firmly in his hand, then turned to look for the beast and his companions. The dragon was in the process of reeling from Firestorm’s attack. And Alere was riding out to the monster.

  Be safe, my friend, Tristus prayed, and set about crossing the rooftops. He kept low for the time present in order to better maintain his footing against the constant disruption to the buildings caused by its colossal attacker. Moving with equal caution beneath a covered walkway was Guang Ci. Tristus hoped that he would be able to disable the beast long enough for his ally to have fair opportunity to make his contribution.

  The dragon cried out fiercely, halting Tristus and drawing his attention back to Alere, who was in those very moments passing bene
ath the dragon, sword raised, trailed by the glow of its magic while arcs of that same power preceded him and his borrowed mount. The dragon listed to one side, toward Alere. Tristus’ heart seemed to plummet into his stomach for an instant, and he set off running across the rooftops.

  In the moments that passed—slower than time seemed to allow for—the dragon recovered itself and Alere routed himself away from its upper body. The tail coiled inward like a snapped rope, but the elf ducked low and managed to guide the horse safely from its erratic course. The beast turned its head, a defiant shriek physically chasing Alere as it tore a path of destruction after him. Tristus moved as quickly as he could while the dragon was turning itself to pursue the elf. Further strikes from Shirisae helped to confound it, but it was difficult to tell whether or not any of the damage beyond what had been done to the wings was lasting.

  Alere was well out of Tristus’ line of sight by the time he arrived near to the dragon. With no further roof to carry him, he came to an abrupt halt at the edge facing the beast, planted his feet, and spun Dawnfire. The very action seemed to draw the attention of the beast. It craned its neck around. Its body remained aligned with the roof. Tristus released the disk generated by the Dawn Blade. The force pushed him backward several steps while the magic launched forward with the toll of its battle cry, raking across the dragon’s back, following its spine for only a brief span before drifting off its shoulder and driving heavily into the already ruined yard.

  The dragon was driven awkwardly earthward. Guang Ci and Jiao Ren both emerged from their hiding places. Tristus stood breathless while the two Fanese warriors rushed to the defense of their capitol and of their empress.