“Yes,” Greyson explained. “Galapolos noted the fires and smoke from his mountain aerie not far from here and took wing to investigate the matter. News from little Pips didn’t come until you had almost arrived.”
“Pips?” Beth asked.
“Didn’t you make a proper introduction when you asked Pips to relay your message to me?” Greyson asked, his tone that of a schoolteacher scolding a student for not turning in homework.
“Well, no, Master, but I was rather short on time and a bit tired, and he seemed willing enough.” Beth shook her head.
Greyson smiled, changing his demeanor. “Of course you were. Well, Pips arrived and told me of your plight, and then, before I could act, Galapolos brought you and Wulfric here. You had exhausted yourself, channeling the power of the Mother, and we carried you to your room to rest.”
“We?” Beth asked.
“Wulfric and Dunric, actually,” Greyson said.
Beth turned to look at the Rangers behind her and nodded to them. All three stood in unison and returned the gesture after crossing their hands in front of them. Beth blushed, not understanding the gesture, and neither did her companions. Greyson quickly explained.
“They honor your deed,” Greyson explained. “You defended the Vulcrest and honored all of us.”
“What happened?” Elly persisted, feeling that he only had part of the story.
“Your colleague defended our realm and killed a Kesh wizard,” Greyson stated.
Both Tristan’s and Elly’s mouths opened, their eyes wide.
Diamedes wrote a bit and spoke, not looking up. “That would be quite a deed.”
“Indeed,” Greyson explained. “It almost killed her, however.”
“What of the Kesh beast that chased us?” Beth asked.
“Now that will be a problem,” Greyson said, allowing a long sigh to escape his lips. He looked sad, and his voice turned serious. “I have bad news, I’m afraid.”
“What?” all three Initiates asked in unison.
Greyson looked at Beth. “I’m afraid the creature will never stop hunting you, Beth. It will do so until it is destroyed or you are dead.”
“Mother of Agon be damned,” Gloria said.
Greyson ignored the blasphemy.
Chapter 13
Aftermath
“That wasn’t a fair fight.”
“There is no such thing as a fair fight, Helvie,” Lucina said, walking her horse alongside her ward in the dark forest of the Greenfeld.
Helvie rode for a moment and then started to sob, remembering the attack. No, ambush would be a better word to describe what happened to her subjects that day. “I’m sorry.”
Lucina pulled her horse up, stopping next to Helvie. “Do not apologize for any emotion. They are necessary as part of your life. They are what make you as a person.”
Helvie nodded, using a handkerchief that Godfrey had given her days earlier to wipe her eyes and face clear of her tears. “I’m going to miss him.”
“Yes,” Lucina said, remember the charge of their commander at the dragon. “That was one of the bravest acts that I have ever had the honor to witness. He will be remembered for his selfless deed.”
“I will still miss him nonetheless,” Helvie said, pulling herself together and nodding to Lucina to continue. The pair gently spurred their horses back into a walk, looking for the edge of the forest. They had galloped away all afternoon, and their mounts were exhausted, terrified, and thirsty. They needed rest and water, and the only thing they could do was to return to Blackwell and regroup.
“I should have seen it,” Lucina muttered to herself.
“Now it’s my turn to counsel you,” Helvie said. “You could not have known what they were planning. You may have that divine ability to sense evil, but you are no diviner or psychic.”
“Perhaps not,” Lucina said. “Though I am a warrior, and it makes perfect sense now.”
“What does?” Helvie asked.
“They used those poor children to lure us into the forest and separate us, taking many of our soldiers,” Lucina began. “That was the first phase of their attack. Then, knowing that eventually we would become wise to them, they anticipated us grouping together for mutual defense, bringing us close together for the killing blow.”
“The dragon,” Helvie said, understanding now the conclusion that her guardian was deducing from the attack that day.
“Yes,” Lucina said, continuing to scan the forest for signs of pursuit. “It was brilliant how they executed it.”
“That is a strange word to say about our enemies,” Helvie countered.
“I do not approve of them, but their method was cunning. The creature had that strange breath weapon that killed all who came into contact with it. Having us all in a tight group made it easier for the beast to kill us.”
“The dragon did not expect Godfrey’s counterattack that saved us,” Helvie said, remembering.
“Had he not charged and pierced the dragon’s tongue into the roof of its mouth, more of that deadly gas would have escaped its foul body, and I’m afraid I would have failed your father and my order, and not have fulfilled my oath to protect you,” Lucina said.
The holy woman’s words brought back memories of the evil green beast opening its gaping maw and spewing out that vile cloud of poisonous gas. Godfrey had yelled for Lucina to flee with her, and he didn’t wait to see what happened, instead running full bore, clad in his heavy plate mail, at the dragon, whose head had lowered to expel the gas. Godfrey’s sword had pierced the creature’s tongue, and he shoved it back into the creature’s mouth, upward, disappearing in the sickly, green fog.
Most of the men were still enveloped in the deadly cloud and died, coughing and spewing forth all manner of bile. The pain from Godfrey’s attack was well inflicted on the dragon as it stopped its attack prematurely, rearing back and shaking the commander and his sword loose, and then letting out a deafening, defiant roar of both challenge and agony.
A few soldiers who had managed to clear the green cloud struck at the dragon, battling to give their princess more time. Lucina was obviously torn between staying to attack and protecting her ward. In the end, she had an oath that had to be followed. She grabbed Helvie’s reins and fled with both mounts toward Blackwell, not stopping to look back.
“You are upset that you didn’t stay and fight,” Helvie said, a statement, not a question.
“Yes,” was all the holy warrior said.
“You saved my life,” Helvie said, hoping to cheer her companion up a bit.
Lucina looked at her and smiled. “I should have died there by Godfrey’s side. That would have been my fate, had I not taken this vow to protect you.”
“So, I am a burden to you.” Again, a statement by the princess.
The Fist of Astor pulled up and stopped her horse, turning it to face the princess. “You will never be a burden to me and never speak that way again. It is my duty and an honor to fulfil my vow and protect you. I serve my order, and my order has commanded that I serve your father, Baron Vulgrin. He has charged Godfrey and I with your protection. Commander Godfrey died in fulfilling that charge, and I will do the same, if necessary.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to give offense,” Helvie said, looking intently at the large woman.
“You forget my counsel so soon?” Lucina raised an eyebrow.
“Counsel?” Helvie asked.
“Never to say you’re sorry,” Lucina clarified.
“Yes, though I daresay I’ll be human till I die for feeling this way.”
“That is also not a bad thing,” Lucina said, whirling her mount again and giving it a gentle prod with her heels to continue their journey.
“So now what do we do?” Helvie asked.
Lucina was patient and took her time in answering. “I think we need to get you back to Vulkor first. Your father will want news of what has happened to his lead commander and protector. I’m sure, despite the drain on his forces, tha
t he will marshal a large expedition to hunt the dragon and kill it.”
“You know, more than once, late at night, I heard my father discussing the tribute that he sent to Ulatha. He was concerned that sending half his troops would put undue risk on our realm.”
“True,” Lucina said, scanning the forest, “but it was necessary for the better good of the western realms. Besides, when the duke calls, your father must answer.”
“Perhaps I should have married that Ekin brute,” Helvie muttered.
“I think not,” Lucina said, trying to hide a smile. “His father is worse, by the way. You never would have tolerated his court.”
“Maybe, but at least I could have secured our western borders with that marriage.” Helvie started to think politically, and Lucina nodded in approval. She would make an excellent baroness one day, if she didn’t die first.
“What is done is done. Don’t let that worry you. Focus instead on what we must do now.”
“Will this forest never end?” Helvie said. “You know, I feel the fool for my actions, and I owe you an apology.”
“This time I will let you apologize for not heeding my counsel three times this night.” Lucina glanced to either side, spurring her horse quicker.
Helvie followed suit and did the same, riding until they reached a large green field. “Thank Agon for this.”
“Yes, we have cleared the Greenfeld, and if my orientation serves me well, Blackwell should be to our right a few miles.”
“How do you know?”
“We have journeyed on the west side of the town, and I don’t recognize this side, so it must be to the east. This means we go west to find the town.”
“Then we must have gotten lost in the forest and came out too far away,” Helvie said.
“We did.”
The pair started to walk their mounts further south before turning east, keeping a good distance between them and the forest. “What is it?” Helvie asked.
“I can’t sense evil, but I do sense danger. I think we were followed,” Lucina said, looking suspiciously at the forest.
“The dragon?” Helvie said, also looking at the dark, forbidding tree line.
“No,” Lucina said. “Those death nymphs, I fear, but do not worry now. I think their power is greatly diminished away from the protective cover of the forest.”
“I hope you’re right,” Helvie said, looking intently into the tree line but not seeing anything. “Do you think Fergus and Clive will be at the town, waiting for us?”
Lucina looked at her ward and then back to the forest. “The mayor, maybe. The good magistrate, I saw him taken by one of those woodland women. I do not think there will be a lawgiver in Blackwell.”
“Oh no, such a shame.” Helvie brought her mount closer to Lucina and then whispered, “Do you think Blackwell is safe?”
“No,” Lucina answered. “Nothing is safe anymore.”
“You are following them, then?” Tyranna asked, licking the blood from her fangs and feeling the pain of the human’s sword in her mouth. She was angry still.
“I have two sisters trailing them. They will let us know where they go. Do you intend to pursue them?” Sun asked.
Tyranna pondered her words for a moment but couldn’t answer truthfully. She wanted to engage the humans and kill them all. She also wanted to protect her sole egg, and the recent revelation by the dark dryads that they were aware of what she had done made her suspicious.
It was easy to do that. Dragons were suspicious by nature, and Tyranna more so than most. Add the fact that she had broken Dragon Law and conceived an egg on Agon, well, that was troublesome should her queen find out. She didn’t feel that she could leave her egg unattended for any length of time—no telling what those foul woodland nymphs could do to her unprotected newborn—so she did what came naturally to her and her kind. She lied.
“Yes, I will clear the forest and the surrounding area of their kind as we have done many times over.”
“It has been a long time since they were cleansed from the area. The last few millennia, you only scoured the land, leaving more than enough survivors to rebuild. In fact, the last millennia has been almost anticlimactic with regards to your cleansing,” Sun said, mockery in her voice, yet truth there as well.
Tyranna would play the game as well. “Perhaps an audience with the queen could be arranged for you when she arrives?”
Sun looked down at the ground, breaking eye contact with the dragon. She knew she pushed the limit to what the dragon would endure, but the countless years under their yolk chaffed at her and her kind. Her sisters felt trapped but resigned to obey. No, it wasn’t that they were fond of the humans. In fact, most of her kind felt the humans weak, frail, and fragile. Not worthy of Agon’s treasures, and their brief lives flared brightly but quickly diminished in a flash of glory.
Humans were memorable, but they were predictable as well. Self-centered, and they usually corrupted what they came into contact with. The diminishing forests were proof of that, and every few millennia, it took a great cleansing of the lands by the dragons in order to restore balance to the world and allow for the forests to regrow. Humans were fond of destroying what they couldn’t appreciate.
“No meeting is necessary,” Sun spoke, walking to a nearby tree and leaning against it. She felt the roots deep beneath her as they pulsed slowly but steadily with the energy of the land. She knew that a dozen or so humans would be guests of her sisters’ for decades to come, being released with what would seem to them to have been only days passing and instead coming to discover that the people and lands that they once knew were gone and changed forever.
“Good,” Tyranna said triumphantly. “Dispense with the bodies and see to it that no one disturbs my rest for the next moon cycle.”
“You go to care for your rulebreaker?” Sun asked, leaning on her tree, ready to teleport away in a second if the dragon attacked. Tyranna was too wise for that.
“You should show more respect to my offspring, dryad, else your flow of time could be altered to enhance the sweet agony that awaits you should a lesson be necessary.”
“Your threats are no longer veiled, but they carry weight,” Sun said, dropping all pretenses now. “We only wish for the next passing of Akun to be a swift one. We have work to do as well.”
“Then see to it that my requests are met in a timely manner.” Tyranna shifted her weight, leaning against the side of the grassy knoll where she rested after battle. She had killed all but three of the humans, and that was good, considering that nearly a score of them had sought her out to kill her. Well, she was responsible for that . . .
Sun seemed to understand. “What do you wish done with the human babies?”
Tyranna growled for a moment, murder on her mind, and Sun closed her eyes, dreading the words that she was sure to hear that would command her and her sisters to execute the hapless children. Instead, the dragon’s response was most unexpected. “Care for them and see to it that nothing harms them.”
Sun stood upright from her leaning stance, and her eyes shot open as she turned to face the dragon. Tyranna was watching her through slitted eyelids, and she smiled, if that was what the unnerving facial gesture indeed was. “You jest?” Sun asked.
“You take me for a fool, dryad,” Tyranna said, refusing to use the dryad’s real name. That was an insult, and she enjoyed using it.
“Why?” Sun said simply, not wanting to risk any chance that the dragon would change its mind, though her orders were confusing at best.
“It is not for any altruistic gesture on my part,” Tyranna began. “No, I want to have this leverage and the ability to call forth the humans at the time and place of my choosing. That you do understand, do you not?”
Sun nodded. That would make more sense than a dragon, especially this dragon, showing any kind of caring emotion, toward a human, a defenseless, human child especially, and three of them no less. “Your wish is our command.”
“What of the border?
” Tyranna asked, changing the subject.
“All is secure. The pair of human men left the day before last, returning to their mountain abode where we dare not follow.”
“You fear the mystic man?”
“If you refer to the Arnen, yes. They are most dangerous and dedicated to a fault. I would expect this one to be no different from the many others we have encountered over the eons.” Sun looked back down, breaking eye contact again. It was never wise to lock eyes with dragon kind.
“See to it that I am notified when they enter our abode again.”
“When?” Sun asked.
“I have crossed paths with this particular mystic man before. He will finally force an end to our little game.” Tyranna lowered her head, resting it between her massive claws, and kept her gaze firmly locked on the leader of the dryads.
“How long have you been playing?” Sun asked, curiosity ever present in her kind.
“Only a few centuries, but long enough for him to learn of our secrets. It is time for the game to come to a conclusion, and he must not learn more before the arrival.”
“He did not seem very powerful,” Sun commented.
“The one you saw was a student of the mystic man and the other a warrior, a defender of their kind,” Tyranna said.
“You refer to the old Arnen in the mountains,” Sun said.
“Yes, he has been building his strength and training his successors. We must be prepared to end his line before they end ours. What news, then, of my sister’s servants?”
“The northerners?” Sun asked.
“Yes,” Tyranna confirmed.
“The wind whispers of their arrival. They will enter our realm soon. Do you intend to use them?”
“I do,” the dragon said.
“Why use humans against other humans?”
“These humans are favored by the queen. They make themselves subservient to our kind, and therefore are used to allow an orderly arrival each transit.”
“So you need help?” Sun asked rhetorically.
“Hardly,” Tyranna responded, sounding insulted. “We simply lessen our exertions each passing and ensure the orderly and successful harvesting each cycle. Father Death demands no less. There must be servants to serve, no?”
The Green Dragon: A Claire-Agon Dragon Book (Dragon Series 3) Page 15