Storm Riders

by Margaret Weis

  “My dear fellow, otherwise I would go out of my head with boredom,” said Rodrigo.

  Stephano was skeptical. “You are giving up tranquil days spent lounging on deck and basking in the sun. You embrace boredom! Why the change?”

  He eyed Rodrigo, who was looking particularly innocent, and lowered his voice to say grimly, “I know the real reason. You’re studying contramagic.”

  “Me? Study?” Rodrigo gave a light, airy laugh and walked off.

  The weather was fine when they left Evreux bound for Argonne and remained pleasant throughout the voyage. They saw few other ships sailing the Breath and no sign of the enemy, perhaps due to the increased presence of the Rosian navy patrolling the coastline.

  Four days sailing brought them to the port city of Argonne in the duchy of Bourlet. Here the Sommerwind was planning to take on additional cargo and supplies for the long journey to Braffa.

  The port of Argonne was the last stop for all ships traveling to the eastern nations of Estara and Braffa and the first stop for those ships making the return journey. The docks were usually crowded with ships that sometimes had to wait in line for space, hovering in the Breath until they could enter. The Sommerwind arrived to find the wharves almost empty.

  The harbormaster, who had sailed out to guide the Sommerwind to its berth, explained the situation to the captain in gloomy tones.

  “What with the rumors of war with Freya, the Travians threatening to blockade Braffa, and pirate attacks, it is a brave ship’s captain that takes to the air these days, Captain Leydecker.”

  “I’ve heard the rumors about the blockade. Is the situation in Braffa really this bad, sir?” Captain Leydecker asked. “Braffa is my next port of call.”

  “That’s the problem, sir, we don’t know,” said the harbormaster. “Rumors. All we hear are rumors! There was a significant decrease in shipping after the attack on Westfirth, and this business with Braffa is making the situation worse. No captain wants to sail that far only to find he can’t deliver his goods.

  “Now, mind you, Captain Leydecker,” the harbormaster added with a wink, “I do not advocate breaking the law, but a captain who did manage to run the blockade would find it well worth his while.”

  Stephano, loitering on deck, happened to overhear the conversation and smiled. The harbormaster was drumming up business for the Travian cartel. A ship’s captain who risked running the blockade and managed to sneak past the warships could name his price when it came to delivering goods.

  Stephano leaned on the rail and gazed at the mountains in the distance. His family estate was located in the foothills of those mountains. The Château d’Eau Brisé was named for a series of rapids formed by the confluence of two rivers flowing down out of those mountains. The château was located near the rapids, which were known by the locals as “d’Eau Brisé” or Shattered Water.

  Stephano had not been to his home in many years, ever since he could no longer afford to live there. The income he received from the tenants who still farmed the land barely paid the taxes. About once a year, Rodrigo would delicately suggest that Stephano sell the estate and Stephano would delicately tell Rodrigo what he could do with that suggestion.

  Stephano’s plan was to someday restore the family estate to its former glory. He saw himself riding across the fields, meeting with his tenants, greeting guests in his own house, inviting his friends to sit down with him at a great feast. He dreamed of seeing Benoit take his usual place of pride, standing behind the master’s chair, pouring the wine, lording it over the other servants. He dreamed of asking the noble dragons and the men who had served with him in the Dragon Brigade to return for a reunion.

  His dreams were only dreams, and he had to admit there was not much chance they would ever come true. On this visit, he would have to meet with Dag and the dragons at the château in secret during the night. His mother would have agents watching the house, ready to alert constables armed with warrants to arrest him and Rodrigo. And being arrested was the least of their worries. Someone had hired assassins to kill them and he had no idea who that person was. He trusted he had thrown the assassins off the trail, but he could not risk lowering his guard.

  As he stood staring at the mountains, Miri came up to him and slipped her hands around his arm. “Are you happy to be home?”

  “Not this way,” said Stephano. “Having to sneak into my own house like a thief.”

  “So what’s the plan?” Miri asked.

  “I can’t make any plans until I find out what Dag has learned about the wild dragons. Captain Leydecker says we’re going to be stopping here for a few days. He’s waiting for the delivery of some sort of special cargo. You and Gythe and Rigo should go into Argonne, rent rooms—”

  “Don’t be silly, Stephano,” said Miri crisply. “We’re coming with you.”

  “It’s not safe—”

  “Stephano de Guichen, I’ve heard you and Benoit talk all these years about your château and I’m not going to miss the chance to finally see it.”

  Stephano turned his back on the mountains to remonstrate with her.

  “Miri, I can’t allow you to come. This time I mean it, so don’t even bother to argue.”

  “I don’t need to argue,” said Miri. “I’m in charge, remember? You will need Gythe’s help with the wild dragons. And I need to talk to Dag,” she added more somberly. “Make things right between us.”

  “Miri, listen—”

  She raised her hand to cut him off. “Who found the means to escape from Evreux?”

  “You did,” said Stephano with a smile that ended in a sigh. He turned back to the mountains. “But this isn’t the way I wanted to welcome my friends to my house.”

  “I know,” said Miri gently. “I know.”

  The Sommerwind sailed into port. Captain Leydecker and Leutnant Baumann shouted orders. The sailors ran to their tasks with unusual eagerness, looking forward to shore leave. Lines snaked down from the ship to dockworkers who caught them and tied the Sommerwind to her moorings. The captain was supervising the helmsman, who had the tricky job of reducing the amount of magical energy arcing through the lift gas, providing just enough to allow the ship to nestle into the berth.

  Stephano and Miri went below to tell the others. They entered Stephano’s cabin to find Rodrigo tying his cravat in front of a piece of tin he had transformed into a mirror. Gythe sat cross-legged on the bed, teasing Doctor Ellington with a feather.

  “What’s the plan?” Rodrigo asked.

  “Miri and Gythe are coming with us to d’Eau Brisé,” said Stephano. “That wasn’t my original plan, but Miri has modified it.”

  “You’re still going to find a way for me to see my mother,” said Rodrigo.

  “I’m sure your house is being watched. We’ll have to find a way to smuggle you inside. I hate all this sneaking about!” Stephano said, scowling.

  “I’m sorry,” said Rodrigo remorsefully. “It’s my fault. I should have agreed to smelt.”

  Stephano shook his head. “Someone tried to kill both of us, remember? After we’ve dealt with the wild dragons, we’ll have to find somewhere to hide, while I try to placate my mother and discover who wants us dead.”

  “I have a better idea,” said Miri. “We have a job offer. Captain Leydecker wants to hire us to sail with him to Braffa. He’s been hearing rumors that Travian ships are blockading the refinery ports in order to pressure Estara into giving up her claim to Braffa. He has to deliver this cargo to the refineries, which means he’s considering running the blockade.”

  “I’m confused,” said Rodrigo. “The Sommerwind is under contract to a Travian cartel. Why would the Travians stop one of their own ships?”

  “Captain Leydecker would have make a detour to Travia to obtain permission to deliver his cargo. That would mean bribing the right government officials, obtaining the proper paperwork, all of which could take weeks. “Not to mention disclosing the nature of his cargo.”

  “Do we have any idea wh
at this mysterious cargo is?” Stephano asked.

  “None,” said Miri. “All I know is that it is to be delivered to one of the Braffan refineries, and he is to pick up an extremely important shipment while he’s there.”

  “This ship isn’t a tanker. It’s not outfitted to haul the liquid Breath that the Braffans refine. I wonder what’s going on.”

  “Don’t you be too inquisitive, Stephano. It’s none of our business.”

  “I know. I’m just curious, that’s all.”

  Stephano came to easy terms with Captain Leydecker. The captain needed Stephano’s military expertise in evading the Travian warships and he would be in command of the landing party that delivered the cargo. When Stephano asked offhandedly about the nature of the cargo, the captain shook his head and changed the subject.

  That night, as Stephano and Rodrigo were preparing to go ashore, Miri appeared at their door. She came bearing two navy-blue coats with matching trousers.

  “Officers’ uniforms. From the captain. He said you might find them useful.”

  “For what?” Rodrigo asked with a glance and a shudder. “A bonfire to keep us warm during the long winter nights?”

  “For disguise, fool,” Miri told him.

  Captain Leydecker had learned something of their situation from Miri, who had explained that the Countess de Marjolaine, Stephano’s mother, was angry with her son and seeking to have him arrested. Familiar with the countess’s reputation, the captain understood.

  “I wouldn’t be caught dead—” Rodrigo stopped. “Oh no, Stephano, you will not make me dress up in that ridiculous outfit—”

  “The uniforms are perfect,” Stephano exclaimed. “The police have descriptions of two Rosian gentlemen. They won’t be looking for two Guundaran ship’s officers.”

  Rodrigo eyed the uniform, which consisted of a long coat of royal blue, trimmed in lighter blue with brass buttons. Along with the coat was a white shirt with a white weskit, royal-blue breeches, and a blue tricorn hat.

  “The sleeves need to shortened and a nip taken in here at the waist. I know a tailor who could transform this into something wearable.”

  “I hear smelters wear leather aprons,” said Miri.

  Rodrigo sighed deeply and put on the uniform.

  * * *

  They stayed the night in an inn and the next day, using some of the money Rodrigo had rescued when they fled the house, Stephano purchased new dresses for Miri and Gythe that would befit passengers on board a merchantman. In their finery, the four walked right past a constable, who tipped his hat to the ship’s officers and their ladies.

  Stephano hired a closed, wyvern-drawn carriage to take them to his château. He chose to drive the carriage himself, sitting on the box in the front.

  “Want one of us to keep you company?” Rodrigo asked.

  Stephano shook his head. He would have to survive the flood of memories. He needed to be alone.

  He could not count the number of times he had flown this route on dragonback with his father. When he was little, his father would set him in front on the dragon saddle. As he grew older, Stephano had ridden his own dragon. The two had flown side by side, laughing, talking, jesting with other dragon comrades, who often accompanied them, flying down from their fortress located in the mountains near the château.

  Those dragons had departed when the duke and his followers had rebelled against the king. Many of the dragons had gone reluctantly. They had believed in the duke’s cause and had wanted to stay and fight. The Supreme Gathering of Dragons, made up of the heads of the noble dragon families, had decreed that the dragons would not take sides in the conflict. They ordered the dragons who served with Julian in the Dragon Brigade to return to their homes in the dragon duchies.

  Years later Stephano had encountered some of those dragons when he had joined the Brigade. They had been embarrassed to face him, but Stephano had earnestly assured them that he understood, and bore them no ill will. He had served with them in the Brigade, he had been their commander. He had chosen never to ride any of them, however.

  As it turned out, the memories were not as painful as he had expected. Only one battle had been fought in this part of Bourlet. He flew over the site and saw cows grazing on the battlefield. The scars of war were no longer visible, covered now by grass and clover.

  As the carriage sailed over the confluence of the two rivers, he smiled to hear the exclamations of awe and wonder from Miri, who had never seen such a magnificent sight. Leaving the river behind, he flew low over Rodrigo’s family estate. Rodrigo leaned out the window, looking down yearningly at the house and grounds.

  Stephano hailed his friend and pointed. Two constables could be seen strolling openly along the long driveway. The constables craned their necks to peer up at the carriage.

  Rodrigo hurriedly ducked back inside and shut the window.

  Stephano guessed that constables would be waiting at his house as well. He had written Dag a note before they left Evreux, apprising him of the situation, and another brief note when they arrived in Argonne, telling him they would meet after dark. He landed the carriage a couple of miles from the house in an open field that had been a dragon training ground.

  They arrived in the late afternoon. Stephano stabled the wyvern and the carriage inside a building used by his father to store dragon saddles and harnesses. The carriage came with a hobble for the wyvern—a heavy weight that Stephano chained to the wyvern’s hind leg. He had bought a haunch of deer meat before they left. Gythe, who was fond of animals, even the bad-tempered wyverns, fed the wyvern and saw to it that the beast was comfortably settled.

  Stephano took a moment to look out over the training field, nothing more than a vast expanse of dirt. The grass had been worn away years ago by dragons and their riders practicing their takeoffs and landings. Stephano could see his father in his shirt and breeches and boots walking with his wide stride over the field, waving off a dragon who was coming in too fast or working with exemplary patience to make a new recruit understand what was expected of him.

  The sight of three hayricks, spaced far apart, stacked up in the center of the field, brought Stephano up short. He was wondering who had built them and why when Rodrigo called his attention to five dragons, flying from the direction of the mountains.

  Stephano recognized sergeants Hroal and Droal and the three wild dragons, Verdi, Petard, and Viola. The five were flying in formation, with Sergeant Droal in the lead.

  Stephano took off his hat and waved as the dragons circled overhead. Sergeant Droal dipped his wings and bellowed a greeting.

  “Welcome home, sir! Watch this.”

  The other brother, Hroal, landed on the ground at the end of the training field and gave an order.

  “Ground attack!”

  Petard circled the field, then dove down on the first hayrick, setting it ablaze with his fiery breath. Viola came next. She skimmed the ground, set her hayrick on fire, and flew off. The third dragon, Verdi, flew too low and crashed into his target, demolishing the hayrick and nearly demolishing himself. He managed to pull out of the dive at the last moment, flying upward with bits of straw and wood clinging to him, much to the merriment of his companions who hooted and jeered. Sergeant Droal was on the three in an instant, roaring at them to maintain order.

  “Well done!” Stephano called out. He was close to tears. He thought of the constables who might be watching.

  “You best leave now,” Stephano shouted. “There’s been some trouble—”

  “Heard, sir,” said Droal. “They wanted to show you.”

  He indicated the three young dragons.

  “Wanted to make you proud.”

  Sergeant Droal saluted with another dip of his wings. The dragons flew back toward the mountains.

  Stephano turned to Gythe, who was laughing and clapping her hands.

  “Our work paid off,” he said to her.

  She grinned and threw her arms around him.

  Miri only shook her head.r />
  “So what are you going to do with three young dragons?” she asked.

  “I have no idea,” said Stephano.

  “You never plan ahead,” Miri said with a sigh, falling into step beside him.

  “Maybe that’s because whenever I do make a plan, we end up marooned on an island or someone tries to kill us or my mother wants to throw Rigo in prison,” Stephano returned with a smile. “So I say, what’s the use?”

  The weather was fine for a walk, cooler in the countryside than in the city, with a breeze blowing down from the mountains. They could not see the château, for it was hidden by trees. A lane lined with the famous pines of Bourlet led from the training ground to the main dwelling. The air sparkled with the pleasantly sharp scent of pine needles.

  Assailed by memories at every turn, Stephano was glad to have the chance to work off his emotion with physical activity. He kept a worried eye on Rodrigo, who was unusually quiet. The sight of his home had affected him deeply. Gythe’s face was soft with sympathy. Miri would glance at both Stephano and Rodrigo every so often and give them a warm smile. Doctor Ellington enlivened the walk by attempting several times to escape from his basket.

  They arrived at the château just as the light was starting to fail, as Stephano had planned. The lane split, one road going to the back of the property, the other to the front drive.

  “I told Dag we’d meet him in the back,” said Stephano.

  The lane wound around a small, stream-fed lake where Stephano had often gone swimming and fishing as a boy, and ended in the stable yard. Stephano stopped on the shore of the lake. From here, he could see his house.

  The château was modest, constructed of gray stone with two towers, one at each end, connected by the main part of the dwelling. The house had three levels and contained eight bedrooms and servants’ quarters. Outbuildings consisted of a small guesthouse, a long house, a chapel, and a barn.