by GARY DARBY
“Yes,” Rollo nods. “We saw no other kind.”
I can see Helmar’s face take on a troubled expression then he leans forward, his eyes intent on Rollo. “You tried to capture greens,” he states.
Rollo’s eyes show a bit of embarrassment. “Tried would be the correct term. We never succeeded, even in catching the very young.
“We spent one full cycle of the moons, using every tactic we could think of, all to no avail. We thought that it was an impossible task and had given up hope when she appeared.”
How is it that one small word, she, can bring such anxiety and unease to the mind? All of us instantly know who she is.
Vay.
The Uhlan leader shakes his head. “She had power the likes of which we had never seen before but she was shadowy, as if she were there, yet not.”
Rollo pauses for an instant as if remembering their meeting. “She told us that we didn’t have to trap wild dragons. Instead, there was a kingdom to the north where they raised, bred, and trained dragons for just such a need as ours.
“She said that if we took our ship there she would ensure that we received as many trained dragons as we needed to fulfill our life’s wish to once again become the greatest explorers the world has ever known.”
He stops and an uneasy silence settles over us. Phigby is the one who breaks the quiet. “Vay never offers anything for free, does she, Rollo? There was a price for all those trained dragons, wasn’t there?”
Rollo drops his gaze for a moment before he raises his head and locks eyes with Phigby. Then he turns toward where Golden Wind lies in the great outer room, the torches causing her scales to blaze with a golden light.
He turns back to us. His eyes are cold, hard, unblinking. “Yes, Phigby, there was a price. There is always a price.”
Phigby and Rollo stare unblinking at each other and I can feel not only my own tension but my companions’ as well.
There are no arrows pointed at our bellies, no sword points at our throats but still, I feel as if there is a noose here, tightening around my neck.
Around me, I can feel my companions edge their hands towards bow or swords. They too must feel as I, that Rollo and his company have led us to this place, not for safety, but to take us as hostages, or perhaps even worse.
I glance to my right and left. The other Uhlan haven’t moved. None has drawn sword, or gone for their bows and quivers, which sit upright against the nearest wall.
As a loud sigh escapes Rollo’s lips, I turn back to eye him. The man’s shoulders have slumped and the hardness in his dark eyes melts away. He shakes his head as if considering a difficult decision and not liking what he sees.
“But it was a price that neither I, nor my company, was willing to pay.”
“We sailed our ship north to the river Lorell’s mouth, where we were met by a prince of this realm—”
“Aster!” Alonya’s snarl is like some giant, spitting mountain cat’s who’s trapped and about to fight her way out of the snare.
“I see you’ve met him, too,” Rollo dryly notes.
“Aster is a mangy, vile cur!” Alonya spits at the deck. “If ever I meet him in battle again, he will stand no taller than a sprog when I’m through with him.”
“Yes,” Rollo grunts, “well, in that, we agree with your sentiments.”
Turning to Phigby, Rollo’s eyes become hard, “As you said, Phigby, there was a price. Aster stated that he would give us as many dragons as we needed both for ourselves and others if we wanted, but first—”
“Aster wanted you to find the golden dragon,” Phigby states.
“No,” he replies, “he didn’t mention the golden one. No, he said that you were wanted criminals, posted by his king and that if we brought all of you to him, we would have our dragons.”
Rollo sighs long. “It wasn’t until we found you that we learned the truth. You are not criminals, you are the Company of the Golden Dragon. Once we realized that he had tried to trick us, well . . . We decided to play our own trick.”
Hesitating, he said, “But it was hard for us. You see, in our land, truth is honor. If one of us tells a lie, he is held in such low esteem he is banished from the Uhlan for one full season. If such a person continues to lie, he becomes umriah and is no longer in full fellowship with us but is banished to the far mountains to live in solitude for his evil tongue.”
“Umriah?” Cara asks Phigby.
“Umm,” he replies, “it means someone who is an outcast, exiled from the group. A punishment that lasts for a lifetime in this case.”
Rollo nods and for an instant, licks his lips as his eyes stare straight at the table top. “We’re not used to lying, but in your case, we decided that it was better to lie than to tell the truth.”
“How so?” Helmar demands.
“You know we watched you,” Rollo answers, “what I didn’t tell you was that we were to report your whereabouts to Aster so that he could keep tabs on you.”
“To trap us!” Amil’s report is like an explosion in the room and startles even me.
“What!?” Alonya whirls on Rollo, her hand on her sword hilt. “It is a trap!”
Helmar and Cara have backed away, both going for their swords. Phigby, for some reason, doesn’t move, while I’m fumbling trying to draw Galondraig.
Will I ever be worth anything in a fight?
Rollo holds up a hand. “No trap, I assure you, and certainly not here. Much too obvious, don’t you think?”
My companions ease themselves from their fighting positions but do not sit back down but stand staring at Rollo.
His thin lips are tight, barely visible across his face. “Yes, it was Aster to whom we reported your whereabouts.”
He turns and calls to the young Uhlan girl sitting nearby, “Marce, your last report to our master?” he makes the word master sound as if he were spitting foul filth from his mouth.
“Where are the golden dragon and her company according to you?”
Wetting her lips, but keeping her eyes averted and her face turned downward, she all but mumbles, “As you instructed me, Rollo, I told the Wilder rider that they were several leagues south of Lacenstad.”
She pauses and then mutters, her voice so low I can barely hear, “I also reported that they are very weary and move so slowly that at the rate they’re moving they shouldn’t reach the Lorell River for another three or four days’ time.”
Rollo turns back to us with a crooked, pleased smile. “See, you’re really not here yet, you’re still three or more days away.”
Phigby chortles. “You reported where we’ve been rather than where we are.”
“Yes,” Rollo replies and then glances over at me again. “And I must admit that what you did at Lacensted is something that I and several of my company will always remember.”
He gives me a small head bow. “A brave and needed act.”
“You were there?” Helmar asks, his eyebrows furrowed in questioning.
Rollo nods. “Hiding in thick bushes on the village’s far side. When we saw what those demon drogs and Sung Dar were doing to the village, it turned our stomachs. I sent Florin to find the other four of our small group, while I stayed and watched. It was my intention that though we were but six, we would do what we could for the villagers.”
He pauses as if to draw upon his memory of the event. “By the time the others joined me, your burning of the Sung Dar ships had just begun. We thought about helping you, but, uh, it was evident that you didn’t need our aid.”
Rollo turns to face me. “You had a power all your own.”
“So, you followed us all the way downriver?” Amil asks. “Why didn’t you report that we were somewhere else, or headed in a different direction?”
Rollo snorts as he eyes Amil. “Do you think we’re the only ones looking for you, Traveler? What would have happened if we had said that you were, oh, twenty leagues in the other direction, traveling away from the river and it became known that we lied?”
/> His eyes seem to bore into Amil’s. “Be grateful for our efforts, we’ve given you some time and space, and perhaps, just perhaps, sent those who search for you, looking in the wrong place.”
Rollo’s smile is thin as he goes on. “We not only followed you, we knew where you were going.”
He gives Amil a nod. “And yes, Amil, that spring had refreshing water.”
“You were watching there, too,” Amil states.
“And Helmar,” Rollo goes on, “it’s true that the night, to one who knows how to use it and walk unafraid under its cloak is indeed a very worthy ally.”
Rollo sweeps his gaze over our company and shakes his head. “You must have an excellent reason for wanting to enter the Wailing Swamp but that is not ours to know. Just remember that the greatest explorers the world has known have gone into that forsaken place and none has ever returned.”
“So,” Phigby questions, “you said that in a way, you guided us here. Why?”
“Because,” Rollo frowns, “Aster plans on setting a trap for you and it is our intention to help you avoid that snare and get to the river’s other side unbeknownst to him.”
“And just how do you plan on doing that?” Amil questions.
Rollo holds his arms out wide. “We built this boat to carry dragons. What better use can it be than to carry the greatest dragon in the world?
“I know not why you are so intent into going into the swamp, but,” he turns and points toward Golden Wind, “if it has anything to do with protecting her, then mine is not to question why.”
We glance at each other, and I admit, my eyes hold the same wariness that I see in my companions’ faces. “You’re going to sail us across and set us on the far bank?” Phigby asks while stroking his beard.
“No,” Rollo states.
“But you just said—” Cara begins before Rollo holds up his hand to stop her. “We plan on taking you across, yes, only not here. You see, Aster believes that since this is the narrowest point, that you will naturally make for InverFloden and seek to cross the river here. Why do you think the river is full of ships and the skies filled with Wilders?”
Shaking his head, he says, “No, that would play right into Aster’s hand. We’ll go downriver. There’s a town and a fortress that sit on a hill overlooking the river. It is barely guarded compared to this stretch of the waterway.”
“From your description,” Amil observes, “you’re talking about the royal citadel at Hanfeld’s Grotto. Where the Accordance of Hanfeld was drawn up and signed by the Great Houses aligning themselves with the Northern Kingdom and ending the Twenty-Year War.
“If that is the place of which you speak, I can understand why that piece of river is not so heavily guarded. Outside of Wynsur Castle, it is the strongest bastion in the kingdom.”
“I wouldn’t know about your accord,” Rollo replies, “but I do know that the village was named Hanfeld, so yes, that is the place. Just above it there is a cove on the far side and where it should be easy enough to slip you ashore unseen. At night, of course.”
Cara and I exchange glances and she raises her eyebrows as if asking, what do you think? Me, I’m a little stunned at the offer of help. Not much of that has come our way of late.
Perhaps Amil feels the same way for he leans forward a bit on the table and grumbles, “And what is in it for you?”
Rollo shakes his head. “There is nothing ‘in it’ for us. You need a way across the river, unseen.”
He holds his arms out wide. “We have the means to do that. It is big enough for m’lady Alonya and all your dragons. We only want what you want. To get the golden dragon and yourselves safely across the river.”
We exchange glances. I can tell from the others that they are as wary as I. “Up till now,” Helmar growls, “just about everyone, with a very few exceptions, has wanted to either kill us and take the golden away, or capture us and then take the golden away.”
He leans forward too, his stocky arms and shoulders rubbing against Amil’s broad shoulders. “Which are you?”
Rollo sighs long and shakes his head. “Neither,” he retorts. “On our journey here we learned of the golden dragon. Do you think that just because we have lived isolated all these years that we do not know the legends surrounding her? Or of her importance to the world—to my people as well?”
“You say that,” Cara questions, “as if you know how unique a golden dragon truly is.”
Rollo nods. “Oh yes. In our Historica, which each of us is required to read, there is mention of another golden dragon, Star Wind, that was actually seen by a few of the Uhlan long, long ago.
“And not only that, but we met several sailing ships on our journey here, and stopped at one small harbor town to replenish our supplies. I assure you, news of the golden one has spread far and wide.
“So yes, we are familiar with how extraordinary a golden dragon is, and what she portends. So when we discovered just why Aster wanted us to find you . . .” his voice became small, “we simply could not do as he asked.”
Speaking to Helmar, he asserts, “We are neither thieves, nor robbers, nor murderers, Helmar. We just want to do our part. That is why we tied our boat up here and why we misled Aster for all this time.”
“So,” Alonya questions, “what will happen to you once Aster finds out that you have deceived him, or that you helped get us across the river?”
Rollo frowns. “We hope it never comes to that. You see, once we have you safely ashore, it is our intention to continue sailing down the Lorell. We have no desire to stay within this evil realm.”
Before Rollo can answer, Cara says, “Rollo, you said that your people know a great many secrets. How is it that Aster has not tried to force from you the secrets that you hold?”
“Our secrets?” Rollo’s laugh is sharp, high-pitched. “I tell you true, he is not at all interested in our secrets. Besides, we know nothing of those secrets. No, only the Jelani hold that privilege.”
His eyes and face turn hard. “Aster wants but two things.”
He points toward Golden Wind. “To capture her.”
His finger swings to point straight at me as if it were an arrow pointed straight at my heart. “And to kill you.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I sit mute and stock-still staring at the tip of Rollo’s finger, half-expecting to hear him give the order for Uhlan arrows to fly through the night.
Instead, he lowers his hand and our eyes meet.
I’m sure in my face he sees fear, apprehension. In his, I see no hatred, no anger, certainly not the expression of someone who is about to order cold-blooded murder.
Rollo gives me a little smile before he turns back to Phigby. “There, you have our story and why we waited for you here.
“So,” he asks, “will you accept what we have to offer? We can set sail soon enough and by this time tomorrow night, have you ashore so that you can continue on your journey to that foul swamp.”
“Won’t,” Alonya asks with some doubt, “Aster become suspicious that you’ve set sail and not continue to watch for us?”
Rollo shrugs. “It is a chance that we have to take. We’ve only reported your whereabouts every two days and our last ‘sighting’ of you was today.
“Our hope is that he won’t grow uneasy for another day or so. If we’re lucky, more than that. If not . . .” he draws in a deep breath, “then we will have to fight our way out of our little . . . predicament.”
His lips turn up in a confident smile. “And I assure you, the Uhlan are more than explorers, we are trained to carry and wield arms as soon as we can walk. Aster will pay a sore price, I assure you if it comes to a fight.”
“But,” Cara points out, “you’ve never fought against dragons.”
“No,” Rollo admits, “however, I think their riders will make for easy targets for our arrows.”
He gazes at our company. “So, what is it to be? I can offer you a place to sleep, food for you and your dragons and a way across
the river, free from Aster’s eyes.”
We glance at each other before Phigby answers, “A moment, Rollo, while we discuss this among ourselves.”
Rollo bows his head. “Of course.”
Phigby gathers us up with his eyes and we retreat just outside the door. I glance over at Golden Wind hoping to see some sign from her, but she appears to be asleep, which in a way is a good sign as she doesn’t seem concerned or feel threatened.
“Well?” Phigby rumbles. “What do you say? For me, I cannot see any reason not to accept his offer.”
“Nor I,” Amil replies, “yet, why do I feel uneasy as if I’ve just stuck my head in the chopping block and wait for the blade to fall?”
“Because,” Helmar growls, “this is all too easy after what we’ve experienced.”
“Aye, you’re right,” Amil agrees, “after having fought through the mountains coming and going, for someone to just pop up and say, ‘I’m here to help’ is a bit unbelievable.”
“Unbelievable or not,” Cara whispers, “how much choice do we have? You said it yourself, Phigby, Aster has this river blockaded from one end to the other.”
“Is there no other way,” I ask, “to get to the swamp than to cross the river?”
“Such as going all the way to the Lorell’s headwaters?” Phigby asks.
I nod in answer. “We could,” Phigby acknowledges, “but we would be hunted every step of the way and we’re not talking a trip of a few days, it would take close to a moons’ cycle.”
Phigby turns to Alonya, who has remained silent, listening. “Queen Sight?”
She shakes her head. “Nothing, I’m afraid, and I agree with Cara, what choice do we have but to take their offer.”
Her face turns hard. “However, I would add that we should sleep with our sword hands free and not far from the dragons.”
“To that,” Amil avows, “I would heartily agree.”
Phigby’s eyes rove the group and each of us, in turn, give him a nod. “Then, we are agreed. I’ll let Rollo know.”
Moments later, I hear a slap on the table and Rollo’s, “Good! We have places for you to sleep and—”