There. A tiny dot on the horizon directly to the south. It grew bigger and soon Cringle could tell the drakon was black. Male then. Serkahn or Traginal? He took his carpet even higher and flew toward the solitary drakon. Soon he could make out a rider, wrapped up against the cold of altitude. It was Vistala and therefore this was Traginal. He swooped down to meet them and Vistala waved gaily, a huge smile on her face. She tried to tell him something but the wind of their passage tore the words away. They descended toward the army together.
Vistala warned Traginal to land well away from the cavalry’s horses as they weren’t accustomed to drakons and may panic at the sight of him. Traginal landed on the road, well in front of the King’s carriage and far enough ahead that the lines of tethered horses kept happily munching on their daily ration of hay. Vistala jumped down and ran toward the group standing in front of the coach. Traginal had been spotted almost as soon as he came into view which gave the Commander-in-Chief and Prince Lermond time to join the King at his carriage. Vistala couldn’t contain herself.
“Serkahn is dead. He was killed by one of the Spawn when he fought Traginal. The hive is under the control of the Queens.”
She remembered herself then and made a brief curtsey.
“Your Majesty.”
King Georgio smiled. He liked Vistala, she was only a slip of a girl but so self assured and positive. It must come from her close association with a drakon, he thought. The King was a little puzzled.
“What’s a Spawn?”
Vistala realised an explanation was in order.
“Serkahn used up the girls he got the Duke to tithe for him every year. He somehow grew strange offspring in them, a mix of both woman and drakon. He wanted his own force to use against the drakon hive. Most of the Spawn are very aggressive and super strong but the drakon Queens defeated them. Traginal knew the one that killed Serkahn from the time he was a crippled boy. Her name is Bethanty and she used to live in the village down the road some. Bardton it’s called.”
The King needed some positive information now.
“So we’ll not come under attack from drakons?”
“No Sire, no drakons, only whatever the Duke leads against you.”
King Georgio breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Earl Bentson.
“Get the army ready to march tomorrow. I want no civilians harmed and any soldier caught thieving or looting will be dealt with harshly. Go and organise them please and pass that message on.”
Bentson drew himself up and saluted, a broad smile on his face. Action at last!
“Yes Sir.”
Then he went about the business of a Commander-in-Chief, barking orders and getting his officers together for their allotted tasks.
“What do you want me to do?” Prince Lermond asked.
The King turned to him and smiled at Kristen, she was a bonny lass and dimpled prettily when she returned the smile. The King knew the Prince was in good hands.
“Prince. We’re royalty and you’d better get used to it. We do nothing but observe. That’s why we have all these people running around doing things for us. The people need to have a king they can look up to and appearances are worth a lot in our line of business.”
Prince Lermond seemed relieved. He’d had an image of riding out in armour, wielding a sword from the back of a charger. Not a very appealing proposition. He far preferred the idea of sitting in the coach, or on it for a better view while the fighting was going on.
That evening plans were laid. Cringle’s scouting became all the more important. He’d decided to overfly Conurbal now that he was safe from drakons. It would irritate Duke Erkhart and if he was really lucky, he may catch a glimpse of Yletta. At least they would have an idea of Duke Erkhart’s preparations and roughly how many men he had at his disposal. Cringle realised that the Duke may not even know that Serkahn was dead; there was no one to tell him. The way Vistala explained it, the cavern where Serkahn had been killed was in remote country and the only easy access to it was by flight. The Duke may be able to ride out there but it would take him three or four days just to get there, then three or four days back. He just couldn’t spare that amount of time at the moment. Especially as Melintana was about to go to war.
Vistala spent the evening regaling the King and the rest of their group with stories of the battle for the hive and heroic deeds done by drakons and Spawn. She hadn’t seen the battle for the hive herself, as she’d been fast asleep but Traginal had shown her mental pictures of the events. Traginal however, was not settled. He was itching to return to his queen and at the first opportunity the next morning he requested Vistala to ask if he could go. The King understood the young drakon’s desire to quickly return to the hive and released him from duty. Cringle would be able to do the aerial scouting for them now that there were no drakons to worry about. The young black drakon and Vistala had a head to head talk and soon Traginal took off without her.
“Problem?” the King asked.
“No Sire. Traginal will have a lot to do once he gets back to the hive and he’ll return as soon as he can. He wants to bring Bethanty home if she would like to see her parents, although I can’t imagine how she’d feel, being like she is.”
“Are the Spawn ugly?”
“Not ugly Sire. Strangely beautiful and covered in tough, green scales but fierce looking. They barely look like us any more. It’s said they’re worth twenty men each in a fight.”
A shiver ran down the King’s spine at the thought of such creatures.
Duke Erkhart paced back and forth in the drawing room of his country home. Yletta sat still in a chair, silently watching him. They had been reunited for over three weeks now. At first it was difficult, as she was suspected of being a Mage but eventually the Duke came to realise she wasn’t and gave her greater freedoms. A week ago he’d brought her out to his estates, now he supposed, technically half hers as he’d inherited this place from their father. Her recollection of their youth together was scant and he’d hoped being at the house would jog her memory as she moved through once familiar rooms. It hadn’t, the draught that had been forced down her throat by the Reavers when she was captured seemed to have done its job and she had little memory of her youth.
Why hadn’t he heard from Serkahn?
The Duke had been down to the cellars on a number of occasions and only ever seen one Spawn on guard down there. He didn’t know if there were two or three Spawn taking turns at guarding or just that lone one but the Spawn could tell him nothing. Serkahn hadn’t come back since he’d set off to win the hive for himself. The Duke was concerned and voiced it.
“Dramad take that drakon. Going off when he knew he was needed. Always looking out for himself. He should be more interested in what’s good for Melintana. After all, he was once a prince of the royal family.”
Yletta observed her brother. She wasn’t impressed by him at all. Once the feelings from the initial meeting wore off, she quickly realised he was an evil megalomaniac, interested only in what power he could take. She wondered if losing her all those years ago had anything to do with his twisted way of looking at things and his thirst for power. The Duke looked up and spoke to her.
“I was hoping that when I took Boronia, I could make you Regent there to look after my interests.”
“Rodaren, Boronia already has a King. He’s a nice man and the country runs well. Why not leave him there?”
“Because he’s backing Prince Lermond and they’re coming to take the throne from me.”
“But the throne is rightfully his anyway. Why not give it back and just take a position at court?”
“Once I have no power, the other earls and dukes will gang up on me. I’ll be lucky to keep these estates. Stay here with me Yletta, I’ve missed you so all these years.”
Yletta tried to be diplomatic but her brother was a difficult man. He’d been so used to having his own way for so long, he’d become set in the ways of the monster he appeared to be.
“Rodaren. Think.
I’ve lived my own life away from you for nigh on forty years. I’ve grown used to Cheshwon. I asked my son for help and set out to find you, not knowing where you were exactly, only that you were somewhere in the south. I’ve now found you but I don’t want to stay here. I can visit in the future if need be.”
“No Yletta, you will stay, even if I have to make a prisoner of you. I’m not losing you again. Ever.”
A shiver went down her spine as Yletta absorbed his words. He’d understood nothing of what she’d told him about her life, particularly regarding being a captive of the Warlord Furoshiko and how she hated it. Her own brother was now threatening the very same thing. She would not stand for it but now wasn’t the time to argue. Particularly when he was becoming more and more perturbed about the absence of the drakon Serkahn.
The Duke could stand it no longer and swept out of the room to take the stairway down to the cellars. There he found the Spawn on guard.
“You. Go immediately to the cavern where Serkahn and the Spawn are. Tell him he’s needed here immediately then come back to me with a report.”
The Spawn stood silently. This enraged the Duke and he pulled a dagger from his belt, holding the point at the Spawn’s throat.
“Do as you are told Spawn.”
This time the Spawn responded.
“Only Therkahn can give me orderth.”
The Duke was livid and placed a hand on the long dagger at his belt.
“He won’t be able to order you if you’re dead. Seek him out. He’s been gone too long. Go.”
The reptilian eyes gazed at the Duke for a moment longer before the Spawn blinked.
“Very well. I will go. Three dayth there and three back. Therkahn will make you thorry you made me leave but you will have your report.”
Without further ado the Spawn grasped its short stabbing spear, turned and took off at a slow jog. It had no need for a pack or supplies, perfectly capable of living off the environment or going without.
The Duke smiled a self-satisfied smile as he climbed back up the stairs from the cellars. It did not last long however, for as soon as he arrived back at the drawing room he heard a clattering of hooves on the cobbles of the yard and a commotion at the front door. A servant came hurrying in to the room with Alesander close behind. The spy gave a small bow to Yletta then turned to address the Duke.
“Sorry my Lord but a pigeon has just come in from our man in Bardton, we always keep an eye on the border road.”
“Get on with it man!”
“Yes Lord. The King of Boronia is camped with his army just over the border. There is a report of a black drakon and a young man on a flying carpet. He’s also been seen flying over Melintana.”
The Duke turned to Yletta.
“What do you know of this?” he asked in a cold menacing voice.
“Nothing more than you, Rodaren. You had me kidnapped before I’d been long in Harrington. How could I know of this?”
Alesander kept silent, wanting no part of this. No one ever called the Duke by his first name. It just wasn’t done. The Duke hadn’t finished with Yletta either.
“You were seen at the Palace in Harrington when two drakons were there, one black and one golden, a male and a female. What are they?”
Yletta, used to the value of information, gave as little away as possible when she replied.
“Apparently you went into Boronia after them. They fled from you there but eventually ended up in Harrington. Prince Lermond was with them and I think they are bent on putting him on the throne of Melintana as the rightful king. He’s past his eighteenth birthday you know.”
The Duke strode over to Yletta, raising his hand.
“How dare you sneer at me,” he raged as he swung.
The blow never landed. It was skilfully blocked as Yletta rose with a spiralling move, faster than the two men in the room believed possible for a woman of her age and the Duke was pushed back. Cheshwon martial arts were far in advance of what was known in Melintana.
“Try that again brother and I’ll break your arm.”
“Go to your room,” he roared at her.
“Gladly.”
After she’d left, Alesander hesitantly gave the Duke some more details before he withdrew with a promise from the Duke that he would be back at the Palace in the morning. Alesander was glad to get out of the house, the Duke was showing signs of much stress and becoming more violent by the day. Not a good environment for Yletta. It was lucky she knew how to protect herself.
The Duke paced. He felt bad about trying to strike his sister and wondered what would have happened to them if he’d actually struck her. Nothing good. The border eh. That would give him just a little under ten days. He was going to make Georgio come all the way to Conurbal. It should ensure the King’s men were that little bit more tired and Serkahn should be back by then. If the drakons were flying for him, it would be a route of the forces of Boronia. He still had to raise an army in that time though. His standing army was only three thousand strong, he’d have to offer good pay to recruit another two thousand men to fight for him. Melintana’s coffers could afford it and weapons enough were stored in the armoury. Tomorrow. He would sort it tomorrow. Right now he had to go and try to make peace with Yletta.
Traginal made it back to the hive but instead of the warm welcome he’d expected, both Zaldara and Zirca turned on him.
“You stupid excuse for a male drakon. All of our plans for another hive could have been rendered useless if Serkahn had not paused to savour your defeat. We told you to be wary of him.”
Traginal stepped back, spotting Bethanty hiding behind Zirca, she appeared to be smiling. So, a setup. He didn’t know what to say and wisely kept silent. The fierceness instantly evaporated and was replaced by concern as Zirca swept forward to examine his neck where Serkahn had bitten him. It was now red and swollen, painful to the touch.
“You fought for me Trag and even though you had help, I heard you gave Serkahn a good spray of venom. I’m proud of you, even if you are stupid. Bethanty arrived yesterday with the news and I agree with you about placing her in charge of the Spawn. She seems capable. We’re just about to go and talk to the imprisoned Spawn. Do you want to come?”
Did he want to come? Of course he did. The three drakons, two golds and a black, wings furled, walked over to the cavern entrance with Bethanty between them. The bronzes guarding the entrance fell back and they entered. Spawn sat or lay about, conserving strength. They arose to their feet at the sight of gold. Zaldara sent to them.
“Who’s in charge of you?”
One of the Spawn strode forward and spoke, even though there was no need to, communication was easier by sending but Bergit kept herself shielded, unwilling to give her thoughts away.
“I am Bergit. Chothen by Therkahn to lead the Thpawn.”
“Serkahn is dead.” Zaldara sent to them.
Bergit stood quite still as a moan went up from the Spawn standing ranked behind her.
“How ith thith pothible?” Bergit asked, once more speaking aloud rather than sending mind to mind.
Zirca sent to Bethanty, asking her to come forward and as she stepped into view, Zaldara indicated to the assembled Spawn one of their number who now stood beside her.
“This one killed Serkahn in defence of Traginal, the young black male here. We approve. Serkahn made you all for one thing, to fight me for this hive. He wanted power and was prepared for all of you to die so he could have it. He was evil. Now he is dead and we have his legacy to deal with, the Spawn. Look around you. All the bronzes you see are your half sisters. We are brethren and shouldn’t fight. I offer you a peaceful solution.”
Bergit seemed interested as quite a few others of the Spawn now moved closer and took notice of the golden queen.
“What ith your tholution?” Bergit asked, now curious.
“We’re starting a new hive and want a workforce to help construct it, do the hunting and rear the young workers once they’re hatched. We hope you Spa
wn will volunteer for the positions. You’ll become an essential part of the hive and in the future, there may be special work for you all. Bethanty, who is a friend of this black here, will be in charge of all of the Spawn in the new hive. Now is your chance. All who want to become part of a new hive step forward now.”
There was movement and shuffling of feet as Spawn made their way to the front of the cavern. It was obvious that most were happy to become part of something new, but not all. Toward the back of the cavern five Spawn stood proud, ignoring the pleas of some in the front ranks. Zirca said one word.
“Bethanty.”
New to her position but buoyed by the courage she now knew she had, Bethanty walked back into the cavern, past the assembled Spawn and went to talk to the five at the rear. No one heard what was said but Bethanty stood in front of each one in turn and each one shook its head. Bethanty returned.
“Their minds are made up. They will serve none other than Serkahn and he is gone.”
Zaldara understood. She moved forward, the assembled Spawn pushing out of her path, until she came to stand in front of the five. She sent to them.
“You are sure. This is what you want?”
There were five replies in the affirmative. So without pause Zaldara opened her huge jaws and sprayed them all with her venom. It contained a lethal concoction that immediately put them to sleep and swiftly resulted in a painless death. It was what they wanted.
A momentary feeling of sadness swept the cavern before Bethanty raised her head.
“I want volunteers for a burial detail. They were kin and deserve to be buried honourably.”
There were plenty of volunteers and Zaldara assigned a couple of bronzes to dig the holes in a clearing in the forest, not far from the hive. The rest of the Spawn were introduced one by one to Zirca and Traginal, who they would be serving once the new hive was started. It all went well, thanks to Bethanty, who turned out to be a real asset.
When the three drakons returned to the main cavern, Septican came up to Traginal and got him to lower his head so his grandfather could gaze into his eyes.
Were of the Drakon Page 32