by Susi Wright
He approached carefully with the boy in his arms and deposited him directly in front of the dragon, before backing away to a safe distance.
The great head lowered to study the child and the creature blew very gently through one nostril. A strange yellow vapour enveloped the boy's body for several moments before dissipating on the breeze.
Abruptly, La-poo sat up, rubbing his eyes, looking around for Ji. “Father-brother!” he called out, beginning to panic.
Certain now Ra would not attack, Ji hurried forward to comfort his little charge. “Hush, hush, little brother, I am here!” He touched the child's skin, discovering the fever had gone.
“Thank you!” Ji breathed in relief, his gaze fixed affectionately on the child, smiling at the little one's expression, as La-poo studied the massive winged creature looming over them. A Morvian's eyes were naturally large and round, but the boy's seemed to have doubled in size as he stared in wonder, surprisingly unafraid.
Ra preened and rumbled, not at all frightening.
Now, in its approachable mood, Ji had a moment to appreciate the mystical beauty of the dragon. Already an admirer of grace and form in his trade as a samblar-man, Ji saw this creature was surely worthy of its legendary reputation.
He now realised a dragon also had an uncanny ability to communicate, which reminded him of Espira's talent. On this occasion, a rare opportunity to look into its fiery red eyes, he felt surprisingly safe and assured. It now accepted him. Ji's gaze roamed over the creature, from the huge scaly muzzle to the tip of his long tapering tail, the entire body glistened blue and silver in the afternoon sunlight.
The mighty wings, on closer inspection, were translucent rose-pink skin, almost delicate in contrast to their span and power; outstretched as now, they cast an imposing shadow across the clearing. Beneath the wyvern's belly, settled against the grass, just the tips of sharp, golden talons were visible; each claw was easily the length of Ji's forearm. He supposed each foot could easily grab and hold a man. Yes, a dragon was unquestionably powerful! But here also, was a gentle protector and partner to Espira, now and always.
Ji's dearest wish, was to aspire to that role! The memory of Espira, the last time he saw her, beautiful and brave . . . magnificent . . . as she rode this dragon into battle, was etched in his mind. He felt a pang of longing, as he recalled their tender moments together in the forest. It seemed long ago. He was impatient to see her again, to pick up where they had left off, as they had promised each other.
“I – we – have to get back to . . . the others!” he exclaimed loudly.
Come forth . . . I shall not bite!
The wordless new rapport with the dragon suddenly felt even stronger and it gave Ji an audacious idea. He came up from his crouch beside La-poo and approached Ra confidently to stroke his muzzle, which was still within reach since he rested with neck outstretched. One red eye followed Ji's movement, but Ra remained still.
“I know you are intelligent . . . and kind.” It sounded like flattery, but Ji meant it. The next move was logical to him. Had this been a samblar, there would be no question. But as Espira had once pointed out, categorically, a dragon was a different animal entirely. If there was mystical protocol, he had no idea of it, except that he certainly would not ask a samblar's permission as he was about to do with the dragon. “Is there a chance . . . that you will take us back?”
Ra gave a low rumble, a friendly sound. To Ji, it seemed permission was granted.
He couldn't hold back a wide grin, as he retrieved the satchel and rope, before crouching to speak to La-poo. “Little brother, remember in the caves . . . I promised one day soon, to let you ride a beautiful samblar like my 'Storm'?”
La-poo nodded with a tentative smile and Ji chuckled. “Well, this very day, I believe you will get to do something even more exciting than that!”
Chapter 42 : SOLACE
Espira lay deathly still on a makeshift pallet.
Two hours had passed and there had been no change. Luminor had stayed by her side, joined one at a time, by a stream of concerned men who came and went, eager to pay their respects and enquire after Lady Espira's welfare.
It was Xandor's second visit, but the first time he'd had the opportunity to ask a question since previously, he had barely arrived when he was called away to some urgent duty. “Is it serious?” He was confident he would finally receive a detailed prognosis.
“She is merely exhausted. There is always a price to pay for magic! Sleep will remedy that,” replied Luminor. “I will watch over her until she wakes. She will need comfort then. Grief is more difficult to heal. But she is brave . . . and even stronger than I could have hoped.”
Admiration shone from the younger man's face. “By the Ancestors! You should have seen her, my lord! She was a sight to behold – riding that dragon. There were thousands of Zorgs . . . impossible odds! Just as you predicted, she won the battle for us! If any escaped, they will not trouble us for long. I regret, my lord, in the mayhem, I lost sight of her. I sent warriors to search, but they saw no sign. Thank the Stars, you found her!”
Xandor's fealty was plain to see. Luminor knew that from now on Espira would have the absolute loyalty and respect of every single man.
She had earned it.
Suddenly, the warrior captain was on his feet, ready to go. “And, Shuul needs urgent help, my lord – from you. On top of that, the dragon is missing! Should we be worried? I could send another squad out to search . . . perhaps he is wounded!”
Luminor came up beside him. “Do not distress yourself. I am going to attend to Shuul now. The creature will return when he is ready . . . and, Espira will wake!” He put a hand on his man's shoulder. “Brother Xandor, you have have served me well. I know you have not slept for two days and nights.” He smiled. “Now for Mercy's sake . . . Go! Get some rest!”
Xandor looked reluctant but left with a sheepish grin, and Luminor went to give the gravely injured Cymbian chief some timely healing. He suspected the need for more than one treatment. His talent was severely limited. Apart from that, a serious blow to the head took very delicate handling.
The demands of a large camp were many. Rations were low and the weather was becoming colder with the barest of cloaks and few blankets.
Everyone knew they would have to move south very soon.
It was late afternoon. Refreshed after a couple of hours of sleep, Xandor was on duty again, taking stock of their numbers, devising transport for the injured and meeting with Stolis and Jimbu to begin preparations to strike camp.
Soon Luminor joined them, having made sure Espira would sleep soundly for another few hours.
Xandor promptly gave his report. “The children can ride with the women tomorrow. Some of the injured can walk with the men and warriors. There is plenty of usable timber. Our soldiers are presently building several dozen sleds for the worst casualties.”
“We have seen to the fallen,” added Stolis flatly. He had been with Jimbu at various times during the day, dealing with the dead who had not already been reduced to ash on the field. They chose to burn them too, in the Morvian tradition. All members of that race, and anyone else who wished, had permission to join their Morvian brothers, to disrobe and dance around the fires. Others would chant, or pray, or be silent, according to their belief. Regardless, the ceremonies and tributes would continue into the night.
It was common practice in war to deal differently with the bodies of fallen samblars. Treated with the same great respect and gratitude as in life, they would now provide sustenance, serving even after death to ensure the survival of these needy people. Half a dozen carcasses presently roasted on campfires, while willing and reverent volunteers offered supplication.
Jimbu commented, on a positive note. “At least, all who have survived these terrible times will have a full belly tonight!”
Luminor shook his head sadly, his tone almost bitter. “I suppose . . . we can thank Fate for that small favour!” He did not feel hungry.
&n
bsp; With so much to be done, dusk fell almost unnoticed. Many would continue their duties after paying respect to the fallen until well after dark, before partaking of the evening meal. The majority of refugees, men and women of all ages, and even some older children, did what they could to help each other, by tending to the wounded and laboriously distributing water and food to the weak.
Luminor returned from a round of the camp to check on Espira, pleased to see she was still sleeping. It was the best remedy at the moment. He wanted her to eat when she woke, so with that purpose, he hurried off to collect a small portion of roast meat while there was some left. As he walked, the feeling that he was missing an important detail, which had dogged him all afternoon, grew stronger. He scanned the horizon, puzzled why Ra had not yet returned.
Something came to mind that he had previously missed during the search for Ji and he was inclined to blame Espira's incessant chatter for it. He had been more distracted by her than he thought. Passing by the last cook-fire that offered anything edible, he pulled off a small strip of meat, tossing it between his hands to cool it, as he made his way to find Dak. He wanted a second opinion on the idea which was now troubling him. His senses did not feel right.
Quite the charismatic showman, Dak stood before a small group of wakeful Morvian orphans, juggling stones. He looked up, aware of Luminor's approach, continuing his tricks faultlessly, without the need to watch the objects.
“Brother Dak!” Luminor came up beside his man, wrapping the meat in a piece of linen and placing it in his pocket. Dak stopped the show and the children grumbled, entranced by their new Gaian friend. Dak silenced them instantly with a finger to his lips and turned his attention back to his leader.
Luminor went on. “You are an expert in all that pertains to Earth, and a sentient one, are you not?”
“I believe I am, my lord!” Dak answered with a grin. “As you know, I resisted Xian's edict when my entire clan, and all others around me, succumbed. I personally dug the escape tunnels under the palace, and hundreds of new tunnels in Lealand, before and after the Battle of the Fires. Before that, as a youth, I wandered with my clan . . .I believe I can lay claim to have moved Earth in just about every land in the Known World! In recent years, you have seen my work in Baram – in both arts. Why do you ask, my lord?”
“This Morvian ironstone . . . you know it?” Luminor met Dak's eyes.
The other man raised his eyebrows sardonically, half-smiling.
“And . . . my lord, you do not?”
“Aye brother, I know it riddles this land with deep pot-holes and caves. I have been down one!” said Luminor mirthlessly. “It has different properties to many types of rock in my experience. Blocking properties . . . am I right?”
Dak nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, my lord, I recognised boulders of it in the forest. It has unique . . . resonance. I first encountered a small vein of it, in the lower foothills at the far western edge of the Known World, when a few members of my clan decided to turn our skills to mining for gems. That idea was a complete failure – just imagine trying to trade with humans at that time! Anyway, we always knew exactly each other's whereabouts in the tunnels, but I noticed whenever that ironstone was between us, my mind-sense was completely blocked. That has been the only time I can remember feeling 'blind'!”
“Do you think it could defy my sight?” asked Luminor.
“These are strange times, my lord, and we are in a strange land . . . I would venture to say, just about anything is possible – even that! Did I not hear you once say, 'always expect the unexpected'?” Dak grinned.
“I am right, then!” Luminor managed a ghost of a smile. “Thank you, Dak! I intend to leave at first light to search, just once more, for my nephew. The rest of the company will move out at dawn, as planned. I can only afford to be half a day – perhaps a day – behind. I could do with your help. Will you join me?”
Dak nodded. “It would be an honour, my lord!”
Luminor shook Dak's forearm. “Now, I must get back to Espira. She is waking.”
In the few seconds it took him to fly back to the tent, Espira was wide awake and in a flurry of new tears. He hurried inside to wrap his arms and his mind around her as she sobbed for a while. Persevering, he continued to let his encouragement seep into her.
Gradually, she accepted his comfort and began to relax, sniffling into his shoulder. He was more than proud of her! For all the faith he had in her, she had risen to the call, achieved so much already. She had a future with amazing potential, he could only imagine.
However, he had to ask himself, if he were not here now, how would she be? Still so young for such loss . . . perhaps, not quite ready, after all.
Perhaps, he was being too protective.
Herein, he accepted a small seed of understanding, albeit reluctantly.
Every being suffered the blows life dealt, grief and loss part of it. In his youth, he struggled to gain a balance between compassion and effective leadership; even now it was a challenge. He understood first love and its vagaries: confusion, attachment, complete emotional turmoil. Coming-of-age was a painful thing. Loving too much . . . could be agony!
His tone was chiding. “Essie, this is no good. You are not thinking straight. I am surprised you do not feel a little more positive now!” He pulled away slightly and brought out the piece of meat.
She made a face.
“I know, I know, you do not feel like it . . . but you must eat, just a mouthful. Listen to me, I am your Father. In a few minutes you will be astonished how much better you will feel!”
Luminor had regained much of his strength and expected no less than to convince her, in this at least, watching indulgently as she took a small, reluctant bite, chewed and swallowed. He was fully aware that he would have to let go soon, allow her to deal independently with her grief. After all, he had no idea how long his powers would last. He took her chin, tilting it up to check her general health by her eyes. There it was – the full rainbow, in perfect array. A rainy day, but it was a start.
“Essie . . . there is always hope! Perhaps things are not as bad as they seem,” whispered Luminor. “Fate always holds a balance, even though it seems upside down.” There had been a glimmer of hope, but until he knew for sure, he would not share it falsely. He withdrew his influence very carefully, watching Espira slowly take hold of her own emotions. She sighed and gave him a sad but grateful look.
Suddenly, there was disturbance on the far side of the camp. It began with the samblars snorting and braying. Some stomped, pawed and reared in alarm, causing several nervous ones to break their hobbles and run. Seconds later, a bolting animal careened past the tent, followed by people running about in the dark, shouting.
Women screamed, children cried and someone called out that they were under attack. Luminor had an odd feeling it was not that. He grabbed Espira's hand to run outside, his first priority to calm this chaos before someone was trampled!
Summoning his best warriors to his side, Luminor was able to take the edge off the madness, reminding the people that they had his protection, and a dozen of his men ushered the people back towards their tents in an orderly manner. To his right, Luminor had not missed the flash of Espira's cross-move, to draw his own sword. He allowed it, watching her now brandish the weapon, despite its weight. She had regained her fire! The corners of his mouth hinted a smile.
“Something is coming!” she whispered urgently. She looked at Luminor, then the sword, before relaxing her guard with a slow grin. “Er. . . now I have this – ” She waved it. “I am not sure I need it!” She smiled fully, her eyes glinting with excitement. “But, Father, can I keep it?”
Luminor laughed, feeling a sudden lightness. “I shall give it some thought . . .”
Senses aligned at last, father and daughter raised their eyes to the sky to watch the huge dark shape of Ra, descending into the clearing.
The sentiment, common to both, was a welcome rather than a question. Where have you been, friend?
As Ra circled, the flickering firelight illuminated his underbelly while his hot orange breath mixed with blue mist to throw an eerie purple glow on the surrounding treetops.
There were people still milling about, who had screamed in confusion and fear a few minutes earlier. They now buzzed excitedly. Many of them also noticed Espira was out and about, obviously recovered. Some began to cheer, knowing to whom they owed their lives. Others, awestruck, stayed silent. And of course, now they could all see it plainly, everyone knew this was her dragon.
The downdraught from Ra's wings guttered and flared the campfires as he came in to land, sending wafts of mist across the camp.
Espira and Luminor exchanged a look. By some playful design, Ra, had not allowed anyone, even Espira, to know of his approach. Master of the High Arts, with motive known only to himself, and under cover of darkness and fog, Ra had kept his presence hidden until the last moment.
The sudden sound of flapping wings had set off the animals; their noise had roused soldiers and refugees to stumble half-asleep out of their bedrolls, thinking Zorgs had attacked.
As Ra's talons touched down, it became clear he had riders.
High and proud, astride Ra's back, perched Ji, very much alive and supporting a small Morvian child between his arms. Both were grinning widely.
Espira cried out Ji's name. She took a step forward, pausing only to toss Luminor's sword back to him. She would have flown, had her cloak not been in tatters. Instead, she ran on wings of joy across the clearing.
Ra deposited his riders safely on the gound; Ji handed La-poo into the arms of a bystander, just in time to receive Espira as she hurled herself into his embrace. Oblivious to their audience, the lovers kissed, full and long. The Morvians in the crowd cheered louder, starving for happy events as much as food. Reaction among the men from Baram, who knew the two were cousins, varied from bemusement to shock. There were even bawdy comments and sniggers.