The Ikessar Falcon

by Villoso, K. S.

  For my weapon, I picked a spear and kept my sword. I lingered at the selection of bows, the craftsmanship of which was one of the things the Kyo clan prided themselves with. Dropping a dragon before it got close to me would be nice, but I had never been a good shot. Making a fool of myself by fumbling around with a bow and arrow—especially in front of this crowd—was probably not what San had in mind.

  No, I told myself. You have to face the damn thing. Not that I put much thought on Warlord San’s rationale—a leader should be able to command respect, dragon or no. How often had my father preached against the sort of madness that consumed Rysaran? Still, San had promised a small dragon, one that would’ve been weakened in its time in captivity. Certainly nothing compared to the wild dragons I had faced in the Sougen. I just needed to use my wits, control my nerves, and use my surroundings to my advantage. Perhaps I could trap it somewhere. I knew now that it needed momentum while in the air to stoke the flames inside its belly, so if I could keep it grounded, pin it down the way I did last time, I might have a chance.

  I reconsidered my equipment and took an extra spear.

  Warlord San’s people had been thoroughly informed of the whole situation. Every step seemed rehearsed. No one made small talk around me or even questioned what was happening. From the palace, they led me down a long, narrow hallway, which opened up into a stone tunnel. The far end was lit with torches. A guard came up to check my equipment and to ensure that my armour was strapped on properly. From behind the giant, wooden door, I heard the thunder of what sounded like thousands of people cheering.

  “Warm up sessions,” the guard said to my confused expression. “Don’t worry—you’re the main attraction. Shifted in at the last moment. We didn’t even think anyone would actually take it. I know the prize money is big and all, but a dragon! You’re a braver woman than most.”

  I gave him what I thought was my most foolhardy smile. “Maybe I just don’t know enough to be scared. Have you seen it?”

  He patted my shoulders. “I saw the first. Bony little thing—not much fit for a battle. It’s been sick the last few days. Good thing we found a new one before Warlord San found out, especially now that we’ve learned he actually got someone to take the offer—”

  “Wait.” I grabbed his arm. “What do you mean a new one?”

  The guard clinked his helmet. “The first dragon wouldn’t eat. Wolves and wild cats have no problems feeding on carrion, but I think it wanted clean prey. It’s been listlessly lying at the end of its chain—can barely move—and we didn’t want to tell Warlord San until we found a replacement. As luck would have it, they found this new one wandering around the foothills near Natu. They brought it in just this morning.”

  “And you haven’t exactly seen this other dragon?”

  “No. But I wouldn’t worry—the men said it was big and vicious enough. You’ll have plenty enough beast to sate your lust.”

  “That’s not really what I was worried ab—”

  A gong sounded from the arena. “That’s your signal,” the guard said, stepping to the side to lift the bar. “May the gods keep your sword sharp and your aim steady.” Before I could say anything else, they pushed me through. I heard the doors slam shut behind me.

  The sun was in my eye. I lifted my hand to shade my sight and realized I was now standing on one end of a rectangular pit, covered with a near-transparent roof membrane of some sort. The crowd was seated above me from every corner. At the far end was a closed platform, where I could make out the figure of Warlord San as he stood on the edge of the railing, arms outstretched.

  “And now, to grace our arena and attempt to slay a dragon to prove her worth,” he said, his voice booming, “may I present Lady Talyien aren dar Orenar, rightful ruler of Oren-yaro and claimant to the Dragonthrone, council be damned.” He turned to me with a grin.

  The crowd fell silent.

  I think it was the absurdity of the situation that caused it. Under any other circumstances, I could tell that they would’ve been inclined to disbelieve it. Right behind Warlord San, Qun was sitting as an honoured guest in a semi-closed platform with his soldiers. I also spotted a few robed lords among the crowd, most of them very close to the front. Only the banners of Natu and Meiokara, Kyo-orashi’s neighbouring cities, floated above the seats, which meant that Warlord San hadn’t planned this for more than a few days in advance.

  The certainty, even amusement, in his voice said it all: it was his plan to reveal me as a surprise all along. The queen of Jin-Sayeng’s triumphant return after slaying a dragon—and who else was responsible for her rise to glory but the Warlord of Kyo-orashi himself? Absurd and brilliant. I was starting to think that madness was a necessary component for a successful ruler. It certainly seemed to work for Yuebek. I wonder if Qun was aware of all of this. I doubted it—he wasn’t Jinsein. San’s subtle manipulations would’ve flown over his head completely. No—Qun wasn’t as much in control as he thought he was. San was playing him somehow.

  The thought gave me renewed energy. I hefted the spears in my hand and made my way to where the royals could see me better. I wasn’t wearing a helmet, and I think the royals among the crowd recognized me. The silence turned to cries of outrage. The royals began to demand San to remove me from the arena at once.

  “My lords and ladies of Kyo-orashi!” I called out. “Why the pandemonium? Do you not want to see me crushed between the teeth of a dragon this fine morning?”

  I clambered up the stone platform nearby, one of the many scattered among the pit. The steps were already slick with blood from the earlier fights. “My lords and ladies of Jin-Sayeng,” I continued, the words bubbling through my throat as if they had a life of their own. “Is this the best greeting you could give the queen you chose? I spent months trapped in the Empire of Ziri-nar-Orxiaro with no assistance from any of the royal clans. Yet here I am now, ready to kill a dragon to prove to you that I am more than what you say I am. More than Lord Rayyel’s unfaithful wife, more than Warlord Yeshin’s bitch whelp! At least stay and watch the show! Warlord Graiyo!” I lifted my spear and pointed it at the audience.

  The pale-faced warlord of Natu turned on his heels. His wife, whom I recognized by the atrocious amount of paint she loved to apply, gawked at me.

  “You would turn your back on me?” I asked, feigning shock.

  “Enough of this farce, this play, whatever this is. You are not Queen,” Graiyo replied. “I don’t know why Warlord San would go through such lengths, but it’s no matter to me. The council wants you. I intend to send a message to inform them of your presence in this city at once.”

  “And here I thought you’d be the first to want to see me fed to a dragon,” I said. “I’ll be gone by the time the council gets here, one way or another. Unless—” I stabbed the spear in the air. “Perhaps you’d rather fight me yourself?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Graiyo snorted. “We all know the Lady Oren-yaro is an unrefined, uncouth woman who would be more at home with a battlefield with her soldiers.” He gave a bark of laughter. A handful of his lords and ladies followed suit.

  “Warlord San himself reminded me recently that in the old days, a warlord achieved his position by proving his worth in battle,” I said. “Of course, Warlord Yeshin’s treaty with the Ikessars was too effective. It seems as if most of you have gone fat and soft.”

  This time, it was San’s booming laugh that echoed through the arena. “Oh,” San managed, after regaining his composure. “I think she’s challenging you to a duel, Warlord Graiyo.”

  “Maybe I am,” I added. “I’ve been wanting to beat that golden helmet into your skull for years.”

  “I refuse to entertain this nonsense,” Graiyo hissed. He started to walk away again.

  “If I’m at home in the battlefield, then let it be said that Warlord Graiyo belongs in a dress shop!” I called to his retreating back. “And Akaterru knows, it would still be an insult to the seamstresses!”

  The crowd parted as Graiy
o and his retinue disappeared through the doors. I turned back to the remaining royals. “One down,” I said. “Any of you want to try your luck here with me?”

  They stared at me in silence. I think if madness was the route I was going for, I was doing a damn good job. The fear in their eyes had a touch more panic than usual.

  “If we’re done talking…” Warlord San broke in.

  “I’m bored. Bring the bastard out,” I droned.

  San nodded towards his guards. The gong sounded a second time. I checked my spears and my sword, noting that somewhere during the entire process of addressing Warlord Graiyo and the rest of the crowd, my fear had all but dissipated. My every movement was smooth, unhampered by nerves, and I was almost excited to see the dragon.

  I heard gates creak open from the far end. The dragon came barrelling like a bull and my heart sank.

  It was Lord Eikaro.

  ~~~

  The black dragon was gaunter than the last time I had seen him, as if he hadn’t eaten since. I felt my whole body grow limp. The spear I had been holding with confidence this whole time suddenly felt like a red-hot poker. I wanted to drop it—I had no desire to kill Lord Eikaro, not after what he had done for me. Not for a mere throne.

  I made my way down the steps to meet him. “My lord—” I began.

  The dragon continued running towards me with an open mouth. I swung my spear out, dodging just in time. He crashed into the platform, sending loose rocks spraying. He turned towards me.

  “Lord Eikaro!” I called out again. I could barely hear myself above the sound of the cheering crowd. The dragon snapped his teeth at me, black scales quivering. I knew I wasn’t mistaken—it was the same dragon, that very same head. Only…

  His eyes were black.

  They had been yellow with black slits when it contained the original dragon and the corrupted soul, and then brown and human-like when it was Lord Eikaro speaking to me. Now they were just black, and I gained the impression that he wasn’t seeing me so much as he was reacting to my presence.

  I made an arc with my spear and began to walk around him. He watched me like a wild animal, like a creature wary of a hunter who had dared step too close, before he spread his wings and flamed. It was a weak fire, no bigger than a torchlight; I rolled out of the way and half-heartedly jabbed at his exposed belly with the tip of the spear. He smacked the weapon out of the way with such force that it broke.

  The crowd cheered louder.

  I was down one spear now, and I still had no plan. I managed to avoid the dragon’s tail as it smashed towards me and found myself standing close—too close. His jaws came snapping towards me again and I hurled myself onto the familiar shape of his back.

  He flapped its wings and tried to make its way to the ceiling. My body swayed with the motion and I felt as if a club had come swinging down on my skull. I tried to gather my senses, grabbing onto the scales of his neck for dear life just as he reached the end of his chain.

  “Eikaro,” I tried again, getting close to his head. I thought that if he heard my voice, it would be enough. “Eikaro, it’s me, Talyien. Snap out of it, Eikaro. Remember? You said you were going to fight it. Lord—”

  The dragon grabbed me by the shoulder and flung me halfway across the arena. I crashed into the ground. If he had been flying any higher, I think I would’ve smashed into a thousand pieces. Not that it didn’t feel like it. I struggled to get up, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. I glanced down and realized the dragon’s teeth had punctured my flesh. The jolting pain was spreading out throughout my arms and down my fingers.

  But there was no time to think about the damage it had caused. The dragon had returned to the ground and was lumbering towards me once more. I forced myself to draw my sword. Even just wrapping my fingers around the slippery hilt felt difficult—I could feel the blood pulsing around the swollen flesh on my shoulder and my fingers were tingling. I faced the realization that there was no way on earth I could fend off another attack. My mind began to run through my decisions. Couldn’t I have tried something else? Did I really go out here just to die?

  The crowd’s roar had become deafening.

  I took a step back, keeping my eye on the dragon’s jaws. My head was spinning. I felt like if he didn’t kill me in the next instant, I was going to black out, anyway.

  The gong sounded a third time. The ground began to shake. Before I realized what was happening, bars shot up from the floor just as the dragon lunged at me. His body battered on the iron barrier.

  Although I had been trained never to turn my back on my opponent, I found myself gazing up to Warlord San for an explanation.

  Chapter Six

  The Coin of Loyalty

  “The Lady Talyien fought bravely!” San called out. “I think none here will dare contest that. She faced an attack head on, bearing the dragon’s savagery on her body, and yet she still stands.”

  The crowd cheered. Behind me, the dragon hissed as it tried to claw its way through the bars.

  “But shall we let her fight on?” he continued. “She is tired, she is injured, and more than horribly outmatched. Is a warlord ever expected to fight alone? Is he not supposed to have blades at his side—guards to protect him, soldiers to die with him?” Now he faced the audience, holding his hands up in the air. “Is there anyone willing to face the dragon as the Lady of Oren-yaro’s champion?”

  The crowd began to clap—not the torrent of applause, but a low, steady clap, like the pounding of battle drums. Someone was walking towards the royals’ platform. San dropped one hand, holding the other out, and the crowd fell silent.

  “I’ll do it,” the figure said.

  A wave of anguish tore through me as I recognized Khine’s voice.

  “A brave, loyal servant.” San didn’t even sound surprised. “You’ll fight for this woman? You could die out there.”

  Khine turned his head. I almost caught sight of his smug smirk. “No better death than to die for her.”

  I saw Qun with a look of outrage on his face just as the crowd began to cheer, though he remained glued to his seat. I realized what Warlord San had done—what he and Khine were both doing. Throwing me at the dragon had never been the plan. It was a trap—they only wanted it to look like I meant to fight it before stopping me at the last moment. And then…

  “You fucking idiot!” I yelled in Zirano. I didn’t know if he heard me. I started to walk back towards the platform, but more bars appeared around me, caging me like a rat in the middle of the arena.

  Khine clambered down from the platform and marched across the field. There was a spear in his hand—a glaive, really, heavier than the ones I had picked—and a look of grim determination on his face. “You’re struggling to hold that weapon properly. Stop flattering yourself,” I snarled as he walked past me. “You can’t even face Agos without splitting your head open!”

  “Exactly why I think I’ll survive this,” Khine replied. “Agos, dragon, what’s the difference?”

  “Go back there now. Of the two of us, I’m the one more likely to get out of this alive.”

  He glanced at me. “Considering you’re all chewed up—”

  “You’re going to get chewed up a lot faster.”

  “I’m touched by your concern, my queen. I’ll cherish it to the grave.”

  “This isn’t a joke!” I reached through the bars to grab his elbow.

  Khine’s expression softened. “I am a starving con-artist from Shang Azi. What value does my life have compared to yours? What you are, what you can accomplish—”

  “Don’t talk like everyone else,” I hissed. “You’re the one who’s been lecturing me about lives having the same weight this whole time. You—”

  “We assign value to lives however way we want. To a mother, her own child’s life is easily worth hundreds. My own life, to yours?” He placed a hand over mine. “Consider me a soldier willing to give it all up for his liege lord. They certainly will.” He jerked his head over to the crowd.
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  I refused to let go of his arm. “It’s not like that. You know it’s not like that. But if you want it that way, then we’ll do it that way—I order you to go back.”

  His eyes crinkled. “Like you said.” And then, taking my hand in his, he lifted it up and kissed it.

  Even knowing it was all an elaborate act, that he was mimicking the highest Jinsein gesture of respect, I felt the heat creep up my cheeks. It was only slightly less distracting than that gnawing irritation over what he had done. He pulled away from me and held his spear aloft, signalling to Warlord San. An idiot, through and through. If his sisters were here, they would’ve gone into hysterics.

  The gong sounded. A portion of the bars separating us from the dragon dropped. I was still caged, but Khine was now free to approach it.

  The irritation turned to fear. Real, tangible fear, the sort I didn’t realize I could experience in my life. Even fighting our way through Yuebek’s dolls had been straightforward compared to this. Here, I was suddenly a helpless spectator, watching a man I had come to care for—a man who loved me, for all the uncertainty that knowledge created—about to face a dragon on my behalf. I had known girls who longed for such things, who would swoon over such a passionate act. I might have once been one of them. But the selfishness of the notion struck me now. This was not the rose-tainted atmosphere of a dream. Everything about this—the smell of blood in the air, my racing heart, the feel of the ground disappearing from under my feet—came straight out of a nightmare.

  The dragon charged.

  Khine moved faster than I gave him credit for. Everything that had led up to this moment may have been fabricated, but the look of concentration on his face now seemed real enough. He stepped to the side, keeping the dragon’s jaws away from him with the tip of his glaive. The dragon stared back at him, throat membranes quivering.