Iren fidgeted in his seat, and Rondel laughed inwardly. The poor child surely felt out of place. After all, Aletas had more or less kicked them out of Yuushingaral just a few months ago, and the last time he’d seen Balear, the Lodian had tried to kill him.
“Well now,” Rondel began, when it became obvious that everyone else was just as ill at ease as Iren about the situation, “what brings you to Ziorsecth, Balear?”
She asked her question calmly, as though posing it to a casual tourist. When Balear remained silent, both hands gripping his mug, however, Rondel’s expression turned grave. When she spoke again, she made her voice lower in tone and deadly serious, “Could it have anything to do with Lodia’s new king and Fire Dragon Knight, Amroth Angustion?”
Balear’s head snapped up. Rondel smirked and explained what she’d seen after the battle in Akaku and the connection between Amroth and Nadav. At first Balear expressed disbelief, but then Minawë pulled out the forged letter Amroth had written along with the waiver text Rondel had copied.
The young soldier sat back and rubbed his temple. “I’ve been a fool,” he moaned. “All this time I believed I was helping Lodia, when in reality I was only serving King Angustion’s . . . no, Amroth’s desire for power.”
“We all fell for Amroth’s lies,” Iren said. “Even Rondel didn’t suspect his Maantec origins.”
Rondel nodded. “The past is the past; let’s deal with the present. Why did you flee Lodia? What does Amroth intend to do?”
Shuddering, Balear told his sad tale. He spoke of Amroth’s edict to raise an army, the horrible conditions the soldiers had to endure, and the absolute loyalty, upon pain of death, the king demanded of them.
Sparks flickered in Rondel’s eyes, even though she didn’t intend it. Lightning Sight had a way of activating itself whenever she lost control of her emotions. Right now, she couldn’t tell at whom she felt angrier: Amroth for causing such evil, or herself for not realizing his plan and stopping him sooner.
Balear then turned to Rondel, looking her over as though judging her. Trying to force herself into calmness, she resorted to her faithful standby of a fake smile and sarcastic retort. “How long it’s been since a handsome young man has deigned to glance at me! To what do I owe the pleasure?”
The human said nothing for a moment. Finally, resolving some inner struggle, he stood and produced from behind his back a dagger, one with a perfectly round hilt and pommel.
Rondel’s sarcasm died in her throat, and her false grin vanished. She stared dumbstruck at the blade in his hand. It was her rondel, the Liryometa.
Turning it around, he offered it to her, “Amroth made perhaps his sole mistake with this blade. He gave it to me, although I don’t know why. I think it’s about time it returned to its owner.”
Rondel gingerly took the weapon, relief washing over her as thoughts of her father filled her. She held the rondel as she would a child, delicately stroking its fine features. After nearly a minute, Iren coughed, pulling Rondel from her memories. Standing, she thanked Balear solemnly, meaning it more than any words she’d said in centuries. Then, reluctantly, she returned the blade to its sheath on her belt, feeling complete for the first time since Akaku.
As she sat back in her chair, she did so with newfound respect for Balear. He had clearly risked his life to defy Amroth and ride to Ziorsecth. More than that, he had done so knowing he was betraying his own species to another. She knew that feeling all too well.
She also understood why Amroth had given the young man the Liryometa, and the knowledge incensed her. Fearing Rondel had lived, Amroth had used Balear as nothing more than a test subject to be sacrificed. Even Nadav, uncivilized brute though he’d been, always cared for his subordinates. Amroth had truly descended into madness.
Aletas set down her cup. She hadn’t consumed a drop in all the time they’d been talking, even though she hadn’t said a word up until now. “You two have good timing returning here. Balear arrived in Yuushingaral this morning and told me what he just told you. I believe him, if only because he must know he has no way of returning to Lodia alive after entering this forest.”
The discussion next turned to logistics for the coming battle, and Rondel noticed Iren’s eyes glazing over. Holy Dragon Knight he might be, but he was still only eighteen years old. No doubt he must have found the details horribly dull and overwhelmingly depressing. Even for Rondel, the numbers made grim news. By Balear’s estimates, the Lodian army had nearly five thousand soldiers, though they lacked siege weapons, cavalry, and fighting experience. That might give the Kodamas an edge, except that even if they marshaled their populace from every corner of Ziorsecth, they could field barely a thousand defenders.
Adding to the problem, Amroth’s army had already set forth. Although they would move slowly across Lodia, Rondel doubted half the Kodaman force could reach the forest’s eastern edge by the time the enemy arrived. Worse, nearly every Kodama skilled in magic had served in the Kodama-Maantec War and therefore died in the final battle. The remaining ones could perform basic spells, like opening the doors of their tree homes and creating the orbs that lit them, but such minor abilities would not turn back an army.
An urgent knock on the tree caused everyone to jump. Minawë ran and created an opening, revealing the sweaty face of a Kodaman man. He surveyed the room, his eyes falling on Iren.
Silently, Rondel swore, knowing what news the man brought. She rose to stop him from speaking, how she had not yet decided, but before she’d reached her feet he blurted out, “Queen Aletas, our scouts report an enormous detonation in western Ziorsecth. A miles-long swath of forest has vanished!”
The queen flared. She reached across the table and wrapped her hands around Iren’s throat. “You!” she cried. “Left-handed demon! What do you think you’re doing? How dare you show your face here! Get out of Ziorsecth at once!”
Rondel got behind the queen and tugged at her arms. “It wasn’t his fault!” she cried, but Aletas would not be dissuaded. Her grip tightened.
“Minawë!” Rondel called in desperation, but the Kodaman princess, for the first time since Rondel had met her, stood frozen with indecision. Her eyes flicked from Aletas to Iren, unable to decide who to support.
Aletas whipped her elbow around and struck Rondel in the jaw, sending her sprawling. “Don’t you dare speak her name! You’re as bad as him!” She lifted Iren by the throat and tossed him across the room, her strength incredible even by Rondel’s standards. “Get out of my sight, before I kill you both myself!” She collapsed back into her chair, moaning, “Why? Why did this have to happen? We’ve left the world alone for a thousand years. Why, Rondel? Why did you have to go and involve us in your Maantec squabbles? Haven’t the Kodamas suffered enough because of you?”
Rondel hauled herself to her feet, for once in her life at a loss for words, sarcastic or otherwise. Aletas was right; she couldn’t involve the Kodamas in this anymore. They had just one option.
“Iren,” she called, “let’s go. We’ll go to Lodia and fight Amroth alone. That way, his army will never reach the forest.”
There was no response. “Iren?” Rondel turned a circle in the room, dread taking her. She put a hand to her head. “Not again.”
The fool had already left.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The Sea Stone
As bright stars and the first full moon of autumn filled the night sky, Iren Saitosan sat on a sandy beach overlooking the Yuushin Sea. Four months ago, Minawë had rescued him from the water here. The waves lapped gently, soothingly, against the shore. Their sound and salty aroma reminded him of Haldessa, and of how it was no more.
In his left hand he fingered the black sea stone he’d brought from Lodia, the sole memento of his childhood. He smiled a little despite himself. After all his journeying, after all the fights and training with Rondel, he still carried it with him.
“How long do you plan on staying out here?”
Iren turned in the direction of t
he melodious voice. “As long as I have to, Minawë. Maybe forever.”
The lithe Kodama stepped onto the beach, the moonlight reflecting perfectly on her white silken robe. Sitting beside Iren, she wrapped her arms around her folded legs, her head resting on her knees. For a moment she said nothing, simply watching the waves on their endless cycle. Finally, without taking her eyes from the ocean, she said, “After you left, Rondel told us what happened during your training. Mother’s furious, of course.”
Iren leaned back so he was lying in the sand, hands behind his head and gazing into the heavens. “So you know, then?”
She nodded.
“When Rondel told me she didn’t see Iren Saito in me, I felt overjoyed,” Iren said. “Both she and Divinion accepted what I did in the forest. Terrible as it was, they made it sound like it was something that needed to happen. I almost believed them, but now I don’t know. I wonder if, despite their kind words, I really am becoming another Iren Saito.” He grimaced and looked at her. “How can you stand sitting out here and talking to me, knowing all Saito did to your people and that I could wind up the same way?”
Shrugging, Minawë replied, “You aren’t Iren Saito.”
Iren grasped a pile of sand in his right fist. “Close enough.”
“But not the same,” Minawë insisted. “You may have similar names, but a name doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean you’ll become like him.”
“I have many of his traits; even Rondel admitted that. I have the Holy Dragon too, just like him.”
“I suppose, but those similarities don’t just describe you and Saito. They match someone else, too.”
He looked at her curiously. “Who?”
She smiled. “Your father.”
“What would you know about my father?”
“I know that he was a Holy Dragon Knight, even if he didn’t realize it. I know that he cared for others, and I know that he died fighting with every last shred of his strength to protect his wife and son. If he had found me in Akaku, he would have done exactly what you did. Even if you do resemble Saito, I would say you resemble your father, the humble yet brave farmer, far more so.”
Iren paused, reflecting. Ever since he had learned of Saito, he had compared himself, and been compared by others, to the ancient tyrant. For the first time, someone had compared him to his father. He liked that connection a whole lot more.
“So you don’t have to wind up like Iren Saito,” Minawë concluded. “If anything, I’d say you’ll surpass him.”
Iren threw up his hands. “I’ve already done that,” he said. “Iren Saito wanted to conquer the Kodamas. Thanks to me, he’ll finally accomplish his mission. When Amroth gets here, it will mean the end of Ziorsecth.”
Minawë folded her arms. “What on Raa are you talking about? Didn’t you spend all this time training so you could stop Amroth?”
“Yes, but he’s only coming here in the first place because of me. Don’t you see, Minawë? Everything that’s happened has been my fault. Because of me, Amroth obtained the Karyozaki. Because of me, Haldessa burned to the ground, and Amroth became king of Lodia. And now, because I came here, Amroth will chase me and wipe out you, the Kodamas, and this entire forest.” He sighed and whispered, “I should have jumped out that window in Haldessa. Then none of this ever would have happened.”
Minawë stood and glared at him. “How did Divinion pick such a moron to be Holy Dragon Knight?”
He leapt to his feet. Rounding on her, he shouted, “How dare you!”
The Kodaman princess didn’t flinch. Instead, she replied, “What if you had killed yourself in Haldessa? Then you never would have rescued me from the Quodivar. I’d be dead too.”
Iren took a step back. He stared at her, wide-eyed.
“Amroth would have come for the Kodamas eventually anyway,” she pointed out. “You might have given him the excuse he needed, but he always belonged to Nadav. He would pursue our extinction until his last breath. We could not avoid this confrontation. Even if it is our destiny to lose this fight, though,” she smiled warmly, “I’m glad you didn’t kill yourself, so that at least I got to meet you.”
“Minawë,” he said her name with some surprise, but then he closed his eyes and returned her expression. “I’m glad I didn’t kill myself either, so that I got to meet you too.”
“Besides,” the Kodama continued, adopting a wry look, “we’re not as doomed as you think. We still have the Heart of Ziorsecth.”
“The Heart of Ziorsecth?” Iren remembered Aletas mentioning it before, and how it had given her a vision. “What is it?”
“You walked through this forest. What did you see?”
Iren blinked a couple times. He was pretty sure this was a trick question. “Trees?” he asked.
“No, moron, you didn’t see trees. You saw a tree. One. All of Ziorsecth has but one tree.”
He scoffed. “I may have grown up in a castle, but I know enough about trees to know that I saw a lot more than one of them while that senile slave-driver was hauling me all over the place.”
“And had you paid the slightest attention in those wanderings,” Minawë chastised, “you might have noticed that every tree belonged to the same species, the Ziorsecth Maple. West of here, along the coast of the Yuushin Sea, sits the Heart of Ziorsecth, the largest tree in the world. Our sacred place and the burial ground of our people, we’ve never allowed a non-Kodama to visit it, not even Rondel. Its stems fill Ziorsecth, almost twenty thousand square miles. You see, unlike other maples, the Ziorsecth Maple can produce root suckers, new stems that sprout from its root system. Because of that feature, every tree in Ziorsecth is connected. They all share the same roots, and they grow so closely together that a nimble Kodama can cross from one end of the forest to the other without touching the ground.”
Iren had to admit that the Heart sounded impressive, but he still didn’t understand how some overgrown weed could help them defeat Amroth.
Just then, shouting from the forest reached their ears. Minawë scowled. She stormed off the beach toward the ruckus, with Iren rushing to follow her.
As he reached the tree line, Iren beheld Rondel, a longbow strapped to her back, swinging her arms and screaming. Beside her, Aletas acted in much the same manner. Iren sighed, wondering if they were still arguing about his loss of control.
“Absolutely not!” Aletas yelled.
“You know you have no choice!” Rondel responded. “Do you want Lodia to butcher your people?”
The queen’s face strongly resembled an over-ripened tomato. “Whose fault is that in the first place?”
Rondel looked like she might burst a blood vessel. “Coward!”
“Interloper!”
“Children!” Minawë suddenly roared, her voice shearing the cool night air and cowing the two elder women into silence.
“What’s going on here?” Iren asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer.
Aletas gave a haughty flick of her hair but otherwise refused to acknowledge Iren’s presence. With an exasperated groan, Rondel said, “We cannot defeat Amroth and his army as we are. At first I thought we could avoid getting the Kodamas involved if Iren and I went to Lodia alone, but now I realize that’s impossible. The two of us can’t overcome five thousand soldiers, let alone them plus the Fire Dragon Knight. They would kill us and continue their march, wiping out Ziorsecth. If we fight separately, we’ll all die. However, even together, we still can’t overcome the odds. We have but one chance of victory.”
Iren and Minawë both looked at her hopefully. Meanwhile, Aletas stared at a nearby rock as, with utter seriousness, Rondel said, “We need a third Dragon Knight.”
“Brilliant!” Iren shouted, throwing up his hands. “Except we don’t have another Ryokaiten. Even if we did, how would you train its knight in time?”
He thought he’d deflated the old hag for once, but she grinned and replied, “Actually, we have both a third Ryokaiten and Dragon Knight standing right here with us.”
She gestured at Aletas. “My dear queen, may I show them?”
The normally regal Aletas had veins popping out of her forehead. “You dare . . .”
Rondel simply stared innocently back, saying nothing. At last the queen pressed her fingers into the bridge of her nose and said, “So be it. You’ll do it regardless. You never would listen to me.”
The diminutive Maantec reached behind her and pulled out the bow she carried. It was unlike any Iren had ever seen. Though made of wood, it didn’t look brown but rather yellow-green, like a recently cut branch. Living vines laced around the center, forming a grip both firm and comfortable. They raced out to either end of the bow, and near the handhold they twisted together to form three concentric circles of Maantec kanji identical to that on Iren’s sword.
“Behold the Forest Dragon Bow, the Chloryoblaka,” Rondel said. “A thousand years ago, I recovered it from the battlefield on Serona after King Otunë’s death. I returned it to the Kodamas and gave it to Aletas. She’s left it unused ever since.”
Minawë’s eyes widened. “Then Mother, that means you control Dendryl! You’re the Forest Dragon Knight!”
Aletas folded her arms. “No. At least, not anymore. That weapon belongs to a former life. I’ll have nothing to do with it.”
Minawë looked on the verge of tears as her mother spoke. “Why?” she cried. “Facing the might of Lodia, why would you deny the magic of Dendryl? Why would you deny the magic of . . . of . . .” she barely managed to mumble, “of Father?”
The queen flared, “Have none of you seen Serona? Have none of you gazed upon its fires that still scar the earth a thousand years after their summoning? That is what the dragons bring to Raa. I watched everyone I cared about march off to war a thousand years ago, and not one of them returned. Why did they die? Because of a dragon, and not just any dragon,” she jabbed a finger at Iren, “because of the Holy Dragon!” Aletas was screaming now. “The being that supposedly embodies all that is good in this world slaughtered my husband and nearly extinguished my entire species! Now, another Dragon Knight comes to complete the task. Heaven may have created the dragons, but they are no blessing. They are a curse, a plague that will ruin us all!”
The Wings of Dragons: Book One of the Dragoon Saga Page 23