by T. A. Miles
AT LEAST THEY knew where the caves led to, and that it would surely have been possible for Han Quan to have made his way to sea and away from the Imperial City. It was difficult to envision how the elder had avoided or defended himself against the lingering dragon nymphs, but he was a mystic of Sheng Fan, and one of noted skill. Tristus was well aware of the magnitude Xu Liang’s wind spells could get to, so then it only made sense that one with a superior ability to manipulate stone could manage without the aid of youth, allies, or weapons. Of course, of the latter two items, none of them truly knew what Han Quan might have had at his disposal.
“I wonder how many of the beasties there were,” Tarfan said of the dragons.
“There were many,” Tristus assured and finally decided to stop stalking around their small camp. He squatted down near to the fire and accepted a bowl of food when Guang Ci passed it to him. “Thank you.”
Though the words were not in Fanese—Tristus had forgotten them in the moment—Guang Ci appeared to understand and nodded. It brought Tristus back to the peculiar tension they had partaken of before the young dragons emerged from hiding. He wondered if it had to do with the dragons themselves, if they were indeed affected by the dark curse of the keirveshen, and if that familiar evil had threatened to awaken the berserker. That would not entirely account for Guang Ci’s reaction, though in part the man might have been resentful over the possibility that some of his fellow guards might have been killed by Tristus’ berserker rage. Of course, there remained no evidence of whether or not they were, or weren’t. There was no way of knowing, as no one had witnessed precisely what had happened during that fight once the pyromancer arrived and brought aspects of Hell to the battlefield with his fire spells.
To be fair, Tristus also didn’t know how much Guang Ci was affected by the Night Blade. It had certainly seemed to poison Vorhaven and noble, though Guang Ci might have been, anyone would have struggled against such malevolence as what that blade emanated.
“Message will be sent to Xu Liang,” Huang Shang-san said, drawing Tristus’ attention. “Message about the dragons, and about Han Quan’s escape.”
Tristus nodded. “That’s good.”
“Yes,” Huang Shang-san replied.
Tristus’ gaze drifted toward Alere afterward. “I’m glad you weren’t hurt.”
“They were not interested in us,” the elf answered.
“Single-minded creatures,” Tarfan declared. “They must have a preferred food source.”
“Or an instinct to look for one,” Tristus said. “They’re weeks old, at most.”
“Cave dragons are born prepared to hunt,” the dwarf continued. “The adult may have intended that first wave to feed off of the city soldiers, but they weren’t given much chance to make a feast of it. The ones that lived will probably wait until they’re older to make a dive for humans again.”
“But what of the ones here?” Tristus asked. “They certainly weren’t exposed to the soldiers, or the fact that human weapons might hurt them.”
“No,” Tarfan conceded with a contemplative sigh. “No, they weren’t.”
He set about taking his meal and Tristus decided to do the same.
“We should block them coming back before dawn,” Alere suggested.
The suggestion drew the eyes of everyone present, though Guang Ci required an additional moment for translation before he could properly contribute to the air of confusion.
“How should we do that?” Tristus asked him.
Tarfan was more concerned with the why of it. “For what reason, pray tell?”
“To prevent further infestation,” the elf replied. “And to prevent them growing larger within these caves.”
“Within these caves?” Tarfan blurted, raising an arm to the environment. “What’s to stop them getting larger outside of these caves?”
“Outside, they might be properly hunted,” Alere told the dwarf. And then he slid his gaze toward Tristus, and ultimately Dawnfire. “We’ll block them with that.”
Tristus nodded, because his mind had already been there. “You want to create a cave-in.”
“And what if we bring the place down on ourselves?” Tarfan wanted to know. “It’s not as if we have Xu Liang’s Blade present to spare us the agony of being crushed to death.”
Tristus held up a hand to silence the dwarf. “Please,” he said, then looked to Alere. “How do you propose we control the destruction we might create?”
“I’m not proposing we control it,” Alere answered. “It would be a risk, but so would allowing the dragons back and so would be allowing the outlet to become a portal by which enemies may infiltrate the city.”
“You’re right,” Tristus said, lowering his silencing hand back to his bowl. “If Han Quan knows of it…but mightn’t he simply remove whatever blockade we manage? He is a rock manipulator, after all.”
“I don’t believe him capable of moving such a large and precarious amount of rocks,” Alere stated. In the contemplative silence that followed, he expounded. “Every magic has a discipline about it, and if you’ve observed Xu Liang, you’ve seen that his mystic craft has a center that he must work around.”
Tristus considered what he’d witnessed of Xu Liang’s ability with the winds, nodding slowly. “That center is himself.”
“The spells are built around him,” Alere continued, “and they require a certain amount of concentration and strength. Each enchantment he lays seems to tax him, suggesting that he would be unwise to lay too many at once. Also, a spell that would knock a dragon from its flightpath does not determine where it will land.”
“Yes, that makes sense,” Tristus agreed. “So, if a mystic such as Han Quan were to try to lift or maneuver one focused area of rocks, he would not have any control over what the rest of them did. He might well bury himself in the attempt.”
“I believe so,” Alere said. “And even if that’s not true, it would at least provide enough of an obstacle to allow others to conceive of a more permanent solution.”
“I think that a sound idea,” Tristus told him, looking to the others for their input.
Tarfan looked to either side of him at the two Fanese members of their company. Both nodded in agreement after the matter was put in better words for Guang Ci, which led the dwarf to say, “I wasn’t looking forward to sleeping in the nest and waking up to something nibbling at me.”
Though it was a morbid notion, Tristus smiled for the absurdity of the dwarf’s words.
“SO, WE’VE TRAVELED the length of the tunnel in a day’s time,” Tristus was saying on the journey toward the cliff opening.
Alere nodded. “We’ve discovered several alcoves and fissures, many too small for the young dragons.”
“Right,” Tristus confirmed. “And if more than one or two survived they would likely outgrow the spaces they have, which thus far only seems to include the primary hatching ground.”
“Yes,” Alere replied.
“And that only means that their numbers are not meant to survive by the clutch, or there are a great many more dragons out in the wilds than any of us are aware of.”
Alere suspected it was the former of those two options. “This particular type of dragon may have a better chance at surviving simply for its nocturnal habits. Smaller beasts out during the daylight would likely be hunted regularly.”
“I agree,” Tristus said. “But do we know that there aren’t more tucked within this area?”
“We don’t,” Alere told him. “But they seem to be batlike. The bats went out at sunset. The dragons went out soon afterward. I suspect their habit is to hunt for birds or perhaps fish along the cliffs, then to return, just as the bats go in search of smaller creatures.”
Tristus nodded. “I believe that you may be right. The fact that a roamer took a bat may have been purely in anticipation of the evening meal. It would do them no good to hole in these alcoves unless ill, and in the event that one was to do so, it’s likely not to survive.”
“I believe th
at they all are ill already, in a sense,” Alere reminded. “But the keirveshen’s infection upon beast or man does not alter the fact that even the shadows must eat and may bleed. That aside, they may better survive in the dark corners of the world, if allowed to linger, particularly as the dark affliction swells within them.”
“Right,” Tristus acknowledged. “And so we block them out of this dark corner and they’re forced to find another.”
“Yes,” Alere admitted. “But the ideals of this one will be lost to them. As well, the city will be spared random attack by them, or by an invading force…or by an invading force infected by them.”
“I’m completely in agreement with you, Alere. Make no mistake about that; I’m only reasoning aloud.”
Alere nodded and stepped ahead as the moon’s glow became apparent over the cave walls. The sounds of the sea were a heavy, rhythmic whisper that gained volume the further Alere went toward the tunnel’s open mouth. By the time he was at the edge, looking down upon the rolling waves, illumined by the glow of Ysis’ pearl, the chords of layered crashing of water upon the cliffs was resounding. He stood in the blue-black of night’s onset, the wind off the sea brushing over his skin and through his unraveling hair. In the corner of his view, the owl’s feather tied among his locks fluttered.
Casting his gaze directly below the rim of the tunnel’s outlet, he noticed a path. It was not so deliberate as a path, but more a passable arrangement of rocks that would enable someone to descend to a shelf near the base. Undoubtedly, it was there where a ship waited for Han Quan.
“That’s quite steep,” Tristus observed when he arrived beside Alere.
“Steep, but not impassable,” Alere said.
“No,” Tristus agreed while his gaze surveyed the view. It was inevitable that he said, “It’s quite beautiful.”
Alere agreed, but said nothing, instead allowing them a few moments in which to take in the setting. There was a peace with standing quietly in the knight’s company that—as infrequently as it occurred—Alere had come to cherish. He liked to believe that Tristus had as well, particularly as he allowed such moments to linger, but the knight had yet to make a clear statement about anything to do with Alere’s interests and hopes regarding the two of them.
Granted, Alere’s hopes were slightly unclear, even to himself. He admitted that he had not thought of what would come afterward, were they to establish a relationship—not to any great depths. He had gone only so far as to recognize that Tristus was an outcast and landless. Once they’d completed their chosen responsibilities to Sheng Fan, he would welcome the knight back to his own home and…perhaps while in Sheng Fan, they could make some semblance of a home in each other.
Alere did not have to think about it long to realize that he did hope to become that close to Tristus. He wanted to be his companion, in every sense, and hoped that they might progress as they had from allies to friends, to lover and confidant for each other. He wanted all of that in one person, a multi-layered bond that would render them ‘home’ to one another. It would not beget Alere’s people any descendants, but their numbers were already so few…
“It seems a shame to cover over such a view,” Tristus said, canceling Alere’s mode of thought. “But I suppose we may as well get on with it, seeing especially as how it’s much nearer to the city than originally speculated.
Alere nodded and they both retreated from the edge, walking a fair distance back into the cave. The route held something of an incline, though there was also a definitive shelf at one point that might have made rocks tumbling back at them less of a risk.
“I would feel safer about this if we had the Moon Blade present,” Tristus said while hopping off the shelf and proceeding several more steps inward.
Alere followed closely, joining Tristus at the point where he felt was a good distance. They both turned to face the opening. Alere put some space between them and put his hand on Aerkiren’s hilt while Tristus positioned himself with the Dawn Blade.
When Tristus glanced over at him, Alere said, “If a larger rock should come at us, I’ll attempt to make it into smaller ones.”
“Right,” Tristus answered with a nod. A low sigh followed, one of preparation, which carried on it a murmur of words. “That makes sense.”
Yes, it does, Alere thought to himself, settled with his plan of defense.
Tristus planted his feet and began to maneuver Dawnfire. He started a slow rotation, passing the spear from one hand to the other while he evidently eyed up what would be key places to strike, based upon Tarfan’s detailed description of the varying types of cave-ins and how best to induce one that fell more concisely upon the floor rather than upon individuals. While the knight silently planned his method, the Dawn Blade began to glow along its edges, tracing pale golden lines in the shadows. A faint ringing sound hummed beneath the carrying conversation of the ocean against the cliffs.
Alere drew Aerkiren, readying himself for the possibility of an errant stone hurtling in their direction. The arcs of light off the blade would cut through, so he had little fear of hazardous ricochets as a result. They still might be pelted somewhat, but he felt injury would be held to minor.
It was within the moment that thought occurred that Tristus thrust the Dawn Blade forward at the angle he wanted and set the spear into its energy-forming spin only within that action. The abrupt and abbreviated motion turned a disk into the air with a solitary chiming that was echoed off the walls of the cave in a similar manner to which the disk itself bounced back and forth in rapid succession. The trailing glow of the spear’s magic painted a disproportionate star onto the air, which was quickly disrupted by the fall of heavy chunks of rock. Dust rained down in a sheet with pieces of varying size quickly forming a mound. The sound was the worst of it; the stark crash of rock against itself at countless points. It lasted only a few moments, and within those moments the mound shifted somewhat in their direction, spilling a few stones over the lip and toward them, but they were easily avoided. The only stones in the air within their vicinity were those shaken loose immediately overhead, none of which were very large.
Alere ducked out of the way of any that might strike him on the head or shoulders and once directed Tristus to do the same. It all ended very quickly, and only a downward drawn crescent of light remained at the top of the mound. It appeared too small for even one of the dragon nymphs to slip through, though the bats may yet decide to utilize the portal.
“I believe we may have just done some justice to the engineering prowess of Master Fairwind’s kin,” Tristus said, smiling.
Alere smiled as well. “It’s unlikely that it will raise a complaint.”
Tristus laughed, then clapped Alere’s shoulder. “Let’s return to camp. Come morning, we can carry out a thorough investigation of the alcoves and make certain none of them have outlets as well.”
“Or dragons,” Alere said.
“Or dragons,” Tristus answered while they turned around to make their way back. “Though I think I’ve had my fill of chasing the beasts through the darkness. Let’s hope there aren’t anymore.”
Alere couldn’t be so optimistic. He would anticipate that there were others, and that they would be dealing with them for at least part of the following day.
The Torrents of Autumn
THUNDER CRACKED across the morning sky over the hills of the Kang Su Province. The rain poured down in sheets. There would be no further advance until it passed.
Xu Liang stood before the entry of the tent he shared with his guards and Shirisae, contemplating the potential duration they would be delayed and whether or not it would take him as long or longer to summon the winds enough to expedite the storm’s passage over the hills. Behind him, Wan Yun prepared the morning meal, the scent of it meeting the smell of the rain at the entrance. It created a certain aesthetic that Xu Liang appreciated, as did the coming together of the warmer air in the tent with the cooler currents raised by the storm.
The present month
was notorious, throughout the annals of conflict in Sheng Fan, as being unideal for troop movement. Xu Liang had anticipated some setback, but that did not make being faced with it any less frustrating.
Feeling antagonized by the spirits, he turned from the entryway and stepped back toward the center of the enclosure. At the table, he spied the flower brought in by Shirisae. He bent to lift it by its narrow stem, looking upon its still colorful, yet wilting petals. The season for such blooms—even those as late as the poppies of Kang Su—had nearly come to an end. To find one in the early part of autumn was considered a good omen, as they were among the ornaments of the fairies, each one blessed by the god of prosperity. They were to be taken as a sign of a bountiful harvest and lucrative financial ventures.
Unfortunately, they had little to do with the advancement of troops, barring the fact that the movement of them was expensive. Perhaps, in that way, the flower’s discovery could be taken as a promise of success.
Gai Ping approached the table and bowed at the waist. “My lord.”
Xu Liang looked at his eldest guard, bowing his head in invitation.
The elder straightened fully, glancing toward a still sleeping Shirisae before speaking. “Shi Dian informed me that General Zhou Biao took deliberate notice of her yesterday.”
Xu Liang was not surprised. The men of all stations among the troops were going to have to be acclimated to her presence. “Was there an incident?” he asked his guard, lowering the flower.
“No, my lord,” Gai Ping answered. “But there have been rumors throughout camp.”
Xu Liang hesitated before dropping the poppy onto the map it had been resting upon. “Rumors of what?”
“That she is your wife.”
The statement was as direct as it needed to be, and no more. Still, it drew further pause from Xu Liang. He looked to the elder, then straightened and bowed his head. “Thank you,” he said.
Gai Ping waited for a moment, then asked, “Should I say anything to counter the rumors?”
“No,” Xu Liang answered. “Say nothing to either counter or promote them. For the time being, it is irrelevant. We must allow the men to draw their own theories. Through theorizing, they will come to circumstances that are acceptable in their minds, even if unusual or unexpected. Such speculated scenarios can bring no harm, but they may dissuade aggression and unrest.”