A Legacy of Light (The Dragon War, Book 1)

by Daniel Arenson

  Valien sighed and leaned back. "Aye, still a youth. I was only a squire when I was your age. It was another few years before I was knighted—I was twenty-one and still too young for wisdom." The grizzled man's eyes seemed to be looking back upon better days. "Had my proper armor and all and a good sword; I still carry it. I served your father, and he was good man. And those were good days."

  "Until Frey Cadigus flew with his troops into the capital," Rune said. "We've heard the story countless times in Cadport. They always tell us how Frey Cadigus, the hero, saved Requiem from its weakness, from the old corrupt blood."

  Valien raised his eyebrows. "Cadport? No, we don't call it that here. Lynport is the name of your city. It was named after the great Queen Lyana Aeternum, an ancestor of yours. She fought a battle upon Ralora Cliffs outside the city. Cadport!" Valien snorted. "Frey Cadigus renamed half the cities in this kingdom after his miserable self. But it's still known as Lynport here, Rune, and you should call it that."

  "My father did," Rune said. "My stepfather, that is, but I still think of him as Father. He would whisper 'Lynport' sometimes late at night after our tavern closed, but… it was a forbidden name. Once a man was caught saying 'Lynport' in our tavern. The soldiers dragged him outside, and…" Rune had to drink again. "Nobody's called it Lynport since, not even in a whisper."

  "It's a good town," Valien said softly. He stared at the wall as if lost in memory. "A good town. Good, honest folk. It's why I took you there, Rune, why I placed you in the Old Wheel with your stepfather. And Wil Brewer kept you safe for seventeen years. Aye, a good town, and good folk."

  "How did you know Wil?" Rune asked. "Why did he agree to raise me as his own, to place himself in danger, to protect me?"

  Valien said nothing for a long moment, only stared at the wall. Finally he took a gulp of spirits, grimaced as he swallowed, and slammed the mug down.

  "My wife, Rune," he said and clenched the mug so tightly, it trembled. "My wife. Frey Cadigus slew her the night I saved you. He stuck his blade into her as she screamed for me. I couldn't save her, but I could save you, Rune. So I took you to my wife's hometown. And I took you to her brother." He grumbled and sighed. "Yes, Rune. I took you to the only family I still had, to Wil Brewer. He lost his sister that night, but he gained a son."

  Rune's head spun, and it wasn't from the drink.

  "Stars," he whispered. "My father—I mean, Wil—spoke of losing a sister. I never imagined…"

  "Of course you didn't." Valien scowled into his mug. "I told Wil not to speak of it. You were never to know who you were—not until you were old enough, until you were ready to fight with us."

  Rune lowered his head, and his belly felt cold. Guilt and sorrow swirled inside him. He tried to imagine losing the woman he loved, losing Tilla. Of course, Tilla wasn't his wife, and he had only kissed her once, but he loved her. She was his best friend, his companion all his life. If Frey killed her, Rune would become a ruin of a man.

  I would become like Valien, he thought. Hurting. Mourning. Seeking solace in my cups.

  "Valien," he said and looked up at the man. "I'm sorry for your loss. For Marilion dying. I know it must hurt, and—"

  "Oh do you now?" Valien hissed and leaned forward, and suddenly fire filled his eyes, and rage twisted his face. "Do you know what it's like, boy? Are you sorry? What do you know of loss, of—"

  Valien sucked in his breath, grimaced, and growled. He swallowed his words, then pushed himself back. He seemed to wilt. His shoulders slumped, and all the fire left his body.

  Rune watched, heart thrashing.

  "I…" he began.

  Valien waved him silent. "It's not your fault, boy. I know you mean well. And… thank you." He heaved a rattling sigh and drank again. "I don't talk about her much, as you can imagine. She looked like Kaelyn, do you know?" He laughed bitterly. "Same age when she died. Same golden, wavy hair. Same eyes. When I look at Kaelyn sometimes, I… Well, never mind that."

  "She was very pretty," Rune said softly.

  Valien laughed. "Marilion was, and Kaelyn is."

  "I'm sorry." Rune was surprised to find his eyes stinging, and his voice shook. He clenched his fists in his lap. "They say that you saved me while Frey killed her. If… if you weren't saving me, maybe you could have… you could stopped Frey from…"

  "Maybe," Valien agreed. "But you were only a babe. What did you know? It was a bad night, Rune. It was a bad night for me, for you, for the land. Frey Cadigus and his battalions flew into the capital as heroes; we welcomed him, the great general returning home from the wars. He entered the palace unopposed. He was in the throne room before he drew his sword. I was there, and I fought him. I fought him well, and I suffered the wounds of his sword, and still I fought. But his men were too many; he slew your father, your mother, your older siblings. But you… you were a babe. You were in a nursery upstairs. I ran. I burst into your room. And I saw a soldier above your crib, a blade in his hand."

  Rune leaned forward, clutching his mug like a sword. "And you killed him," he whispered.

  "Well… I tried to," Valien said. "Thrust my sword at him, but he saw me in a mirror, and I was too weak, too wounded. He blocked my blade, and our swords shattered in a rain of steel. We fought with fists upon the floor. He grabbed my throat. He squeezed and squeezed and squeezed. I saw stars. I thought he would snap my neck. I kicked. I punched him. Still he squeezed. Finally—stars, I must have been seconds from death—I kicked down the mirror, shattering it. I grabbed a shard the size of my fist. I drove it so deep into his eye it scraped the back of his skull." He gave a gruff laugh. "He released me then. I wheezed and coughed on the floor like a wretch, every breath like a saw of fire working at my throat. He couldn't kill me, but he did ruin my voice; left it all gravelly and scratched, the bastard. Since that day, I've sounded like a man dying of consumption." He gave Rune a squinted, sidelong look and spat. "If you ask me, you weren't worth it, boy."

  "Maybe I will prove you wrong someday," Rune said. "You kept me alive for a reason. You need me now. We're going to kill that bastard Frey Cadigus, and we're going to rename my city, and stars, Valien—we're going to get you a bath. You stink."

  And I'm going to see Tilla again, he thought. I'm going to save her from whatever fort they dragged her to. We're going to return to Cadport—to Lynport!—and rebuild the Old Wheel, and Tilla and I will live there together.

  "Aye!" Valien said, leaned back, and slammed his boots against the tabletop. "You know what they say. Good men stink of soil, oil, and other toil; villains smell of roses."

  Rune was about to reply when the door slammed open behind them.

  Kaelyn burst into the room. Her eyes were wide, her hair wild, and her fingers clutched her bow like a drowning woman. Her chest rose and fell as she panted.

  Both Rune and Valien leaped to their feet and gripped their swords.

  "What is it, Kaelyn?" Valien demanded.

  "It's Beras," she said, panting. "He's back with news. He claims this one's worth gold. Oh bloody stars. He's waiting in the main hall."

  They rushed down the corridor, boots thudding. As they moved, Rune frowned. Beras. Surely she didn't mean Beras the Brute, the infamous enforcer of the Cadigus Regime, the man Rune had seen deliver a trembling girl to her death in Lynport?

  As they burst into the main hall, Rune's stomach sank.

  It was him.

  Rune cursed and drew a foot of steel.

  The burly man stood in the crumbling hall, facing them. Circles hung under his eyes, black rings upon an ashen face. His armor was a tattered jumble of buckles, scraps of chainmail, rusted plates, and beaten leather. In his fists, he clutched his axe—not the axe of a soldier, but a great thing of wood and steel built for felling trees. Rune had seen this man in Lynport before, but only from a distance. Facing him in the hall, Rune felt a chill; Beras stood nearly seven feet tall, his shoulders wide as a wagon. Even before Frey Cadigus had taken power, Beras the Brute was feared across the kingdom, the most bl
oodthirsty outlaw in Requiem, a thief and murderer and rapist.

  He raped a child once, Rune remembered and snarled. He strangled her and buried her body in the woods.

  Frey Cadigus had been so impressed, the stories whispered, he had hired Beras at once, elevating him from outlaw to bodyguard.

  "So this is the boy," Beras said, fixing Rune with a dead gaze. His lips peeled back, revealing rotted teeth. "So here is the so-called Whelp of Aeternum."

  Rune growled and drew his sword. He doubted he could defeat Beras in battle—the man was twice his size, and his axe was larger than the Amber Sword—but rage pounded through Rune, drowning his discretion.

  "You've stumbled into the wrong lair, Beras," he said. "I saw you in Lynport hiding behind the skirts of Shari, your mistress. You will find no such protection here."

  Beras grinned—the grin of a feral beast. "The pup's got some spunk. You're a feisty one, aye. Normally I like me a nice girl to warm my bed, but you'd do fine. Come here, boy—let me take that sword from you."

  Valien marched forward and stood between them.

  "Enough!" the fallen knight said. "Rune, sheathe your sword. Beras, tell me your news."

  Rune fumed. He wanted to leap toward Beras and stick his sword in the man's neck. Yet Kaelyn took his arm and pulled him back.

  "Let them talk, Rune," she whispered. "Sheathe your sword. It's all right. Beras works for us."

  Rune's head spun. He took a few steps back with Kaelyn until they stood in a shadowy corner.

  "What?" he said and shook his head wildly. "Beras the Brute—the outlaw, Shari's henchman, the murderer and rapist—fights for the Resistance?"

  Kaelyn sighed and kept her hand on his arm. "I wouldn't say he fights for us, no. And I wouldn't say he holds much love for us either, or for anyone. Beras is a mercenary, that is all. My father was a fool to hire him. Beras loves his wine, his women, and his blood, but one thing he loves more than all—his coin. Frey pays him to murder and torture. We pay him for information."

  Rune growled, and it took Kaelyn's hand to guide his sword back into its sheathe.

  "How could you employ scum like that?" he demanded. "Folk whisper about the Resistance being a rabble of outlaws and killers. When you pay Beras, you are only—"

  "—gaining information we need," Kaelyn finished his sentence. "Rune. Listen to me. I have no love for Beras. I hate the man, and he knows it. But I hate my father more. What is Beras? Nothing but muscle. Frey Cadigus is the heart of the Regime; with Beras taking our coin, we can learn what we need to stab that heart. The wise work with small devils to slay the big ones."

  "You cannot trust anything Beras says," he told her. "The man is a rabid beast. Anything he tells you will be tainted with lies."

  Kaelyn raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? It was Beras who told us Shari was flying toward Lynport to kill you. His information saved your life that day. Beras is a rabid beast, it's true, but you owe him your life. And so do many others among the Resistance." She sighed. "War is rarely black and white, rarely goodness fighting evil; we are all different shades of gray. There are no pure means, only pure ends."

  Rage still bloomed in Rune, and he wanted to retort, but more than that, he wanted to hear what Beras was saying. The brute was smirking and reaching out his hand to Valien.

  "This one's a real gem," Beras said and spat. "Pay up! Gold this one's worth. No more of your silver. One gold coin now, another once I deliver your news. Go on! Still less than what you pay for your booze, I wager."

  Rune's rage crackled with new vigor. He didn't know how Valien managed to stay calm. Yet the leader of the Resistance only nodded, fished through his pocket, and produced a golden coin. He slammed it into Beras's outreached, craggy palm.

  "Talk to me, Beras," Valien said. "Share your tidings and I'll toss you another treat."

  Beras chuckled, spat again, then bit the golden coin. "Aye, this is good gold, it is. All right. I'll share my tale." He leered at the shadows where Rune and Kaelyn stood. "You want your pups here while I speak?"

  Valien nodded, and it seemed like all the drunkenness had drained from his eyes; those eyes now burned with an intensity Rune had never seen.

  "I have no secrets from the emperor's daughter," Valien said, "nor from our king's son. Speak freely, Beras. Tell me all you know."

  "A wedding," Beras said and barked a laugh. "The boy Leresy is making a grab for power—and for some young arse. Got his eye on Nairi Blackrose, daughter of Lord Herin, the bald bastard."

  Valien nodded slowly. "It's a smart move for him. Leresy is second in line for the throne. Nairi's father could threaten Shari, if push comes to shove between the siblings. But this news is hardly worth gold, Beras. These rumors of Leresy courting Nairi have been flowing since the boy took command of Castra Luna."

  Beras was chuckling—a horrible, bubbly sound like grime rising in a sewer. "Ahh, but you haven't heard the best part yet, my grizzled old friend. The wedding, you see! Ah, the wedding. The pup insisted on it."

  "Insisted on what?" Valien demanded. His shoulders had lost their stoop, and he stood tall and proud as a knight. "Tell me your news, Beras, if you want your second coin."

  "Oh, I'll have my second coin," said the brute. "Leresy Cadigus, that whore of a pup, demanded to have his wedding in his new home—Castra Luna itself. The whole clan will be attending—Frey Cadigus, Shari Cadigus, and Herin Blackrose. The whole bloody echelon of Requiem. They'll be there in ten days at noon—the first day of spring."

  Valien stood silent for a long time. His face hardened into a blank mask. Finally he reached into his pocket, pulled out three more golden coins, and placed them into Beras's palm.

  The brute grinned, barked a laugh, then turned to leave. He trundled out of the hall, gurgling his chuckle. The sounds of wings beat outside, and through the windows, Rune saw the bronze dragon take flight and vanish into the distance.

  Rune stood still, fingers tingling around his sword's hilt.

  Frey Cadigus. His children. Herin Blackrose. In one fort.

  "Castra Luna is a training fort," Valien whispered. "It lies in the middle of nowhere, leagues away from any other fortress or town. The entire high command of Requiem… in an isolated fort full of young, green recruits."

  Kaelyn shook her head mightily, her wavy hair swaying. "No. I know what you're thinking, and no. I know my father; he will suspect an attack. He will bring the Axehand Order with him, hundreds of his finest warriors, fanatical priests who worship him as a god. Valien!" She glared at the knight. "You can't seriously be considering this. We're not ready."

  Valien stared at the wall as if he hadn't heard her. His leather glove creaked as he gripped his sword. His jaw too creaked, tightening under his salt-and-pepper beard.

  "Valien!" Kaelyn said again. "We've talked of attacking in force. We agreed that we must first enlist more warriors. With Rune here, we can rally hearts. We can bring more men to our side. We can—"

  Valien turned toward her, his eyes haunted.

  "This is the best chance we've had in years," he rasped. "The echelon of Requiem—together, isolated. We've not seen such a thing since Frey Cadigus seized the throne seventeen years ago. We might never see it again."

  Kaelyn's chest rose and fell as she panted. Her eyes flashed and she bared her teeth.

  "Will you have us crash against the walls of Castra Luna now? Will you dash our hopes so soon after Rune joined us? Will you douse our flame just when it begins to burn? Valien." She held his hands. "Valien, listen to me, please. We need more time. We need to send men to every city, to spread the news of Relesar Aeternum fighting on our side. Many remember him. They will flock to his banner. They will fight with us. But we need time."

  "Time is what we do not have." Valien grunted, gripped Kaelyn's shoulders, and stared into her eyes. "If we don't attack now, we might lose this chance forever. I've been fighting Frey Cadigus for seventeen years, and now is our chance to strike. To kill him. To reclaim our kingdom." He snarled and
flames burned in his eyes; his face turned demonic. "Blood must now be shed. We will fly out in force. Kaelyn, you've been flying at my side for two years; fly with me now."

  She pulled herself free and glared at him. "No, Valien! No, I will not. I will not let you just… just fly out and die. We had a plan. We've had a plan for years. Bring Rune here. Rally the people around him. Raise the kingdom in rebellion. Not this—not flying to face Frey in open battle." She looked away, eyes damp. "You don't know him. Not like I do. You haven't seen the Axehand Order, how they train… Oh stars. They murder babes for sport. I saw it. In their training, they… they snatch babes from mothers and use them for crossbow practice. They complete their training by severing their own hands; they do this with glee. We cannot face these men head on—not with the forces we have now, weary men of these ruins. My father would kill us, Valien. He would kill you."

  Tears filled her eyes, and she embraced Valien and clung to him.

  Rune watched from the side, feeling somewhat like a third wheel. He was not sure who he agreed with. He had seen the cruelty of the Cadigus Regime—Pery beheaded in Lynport Square, men broken upon the wheel simply for speaking the wrong word, and his friends carted out of the city like cattle. Rune did not relish flying to battle these people; the mere idea churned his belly with so much fear he almost gagged.

  And yet… was Valien right? Was this a chance they had to seize?

  If we kill Cadigus now, he thought, I'll have my city back. I'll have Tilla back. The entire kingdom will be freed. No more breaking wheels, troops patrolling every street, or statues of Frey in every square. No more youths carted off and broken into killers.

  Valien turned to look at him, Kaelyn wrapped in his arms, a pale and fragile doll in his bear-like grip.

  "It seems to me," the haggard knight said, "that it should be Relesar Aeternum, our future king, who decides."

  Rune couldn't help it; he barked a laugh. The room swam around him.

  "You want… me to decide?" he said, eyebrows firmly raised. "Only last moon you were calling me a green boy who knows nothing of the sword. Now you want me to choose whether we fly to battle?"