The War of Embers

by James Duvall

  Marreth sat up far too quickly. His body protested with sharp twinges from every joint. Everything was coming together so quickly his head was spinning and his vision went blurry for a moment. He wondered how much time he had before someone came to arrest him.

  “I, like you I’m sure, suspected that there was more to this story,” Grimlohr said.

  “Yes, the king is involved. It all makes sense now. The force that offers the greatest resistance to an army of golems is the dragons. Take their heir and you prompt in-fighting.”

  “But why attack the southern garrison?” Marreth wondered aloud. “The territory is a ruined spit of land that marks the border between Arcamyn and Banida. In fact it was the very presence of golems in the area that makes it so undesirable.”

  Grimlohr shrugged and retrieved a leather-bound journal from his things. He opened to the last few entries and skimmed through them. “The area is the least defended of Arcamyn's borders,” he said. “Likely because the Banidans have shown so little interest in expanding their own territory against an enemy that wields magic far greater than a country of barbarians could bring to bear. A defeat at the hands of Arcamyn would be the death of any Banidan warlord, whether he survived the battle or not. It is rarely attempted, and those times that it is, the Banidan leader is usually so overconfident that he can be routed before supper. The region is considered by most to be of so little consequence that in the years following the War of Ashes, it has become a plague ship for soldiers deemed unsuitable for more respectable posts. 'Worthy of Lockworth' they say.”

  “While Talya is missing, King Brammodar's defenses are lowered,” Grimlohr went on. “And attempts are made on his life. Eventually someone would succeed. Then Talya would be killed and my people would have no clear leader. This is why your king would offer us no aid, why he sent his men out to pressure mages sympathetic to our situation to work on his projects. It is reasonable to assume my spy was killed because he had discovered some link that might point toward royal involvement by the king himself, or his general. His death would seem to validate some grand suspicion and this, I believe, is it.”

  “So you’re here because of the wanderer. It’s only a matter of time before he's traced to me. It would only take one clever mage in the king’s pocket to figure out what I’ve done, and I am already under some scrutiny.”

  “The hour is not as late as you think,” Grimlohr said. “I’ve supplied some misinformation that one of our scouts found Talya on a systematic sweep. The truth will come out eventually but this will buy you a few days. It would also be best if the wanderers were kept unavailable for questions. A man like you strikes me as someone that likes to have a way out. I trust you have methods to leave in a hurry?”

  “I’ve a kyrithspan dagger, linked to their world,” Marreth said, trying to remember where he'd last seen the unassuming blade.

  “You should use it to send the wanderer back. I’ve already arranged for him to be brought here. Quietly. With him gone there are fewer links between you and this whole affair. After that I suggest you make yourself very scarce for a few months.”

  ***

  Naveria Forest might have been a quiet and peaceful place, but Joshua Woods would never have known it. Cabor thundered through the underbrush like a boulder rolling down a hill, cracking branches and trampling over bushes as though they simply did not exist and in his wake most of them did not. His urgent cries reverberated through the trees, bringing distant roars ever closer to him. A shadow fell over Joshua and he dared to steal a skyward glance at the brightly colored dragons gathering above them. Though grounded, the swift-footed night seeker kept his lead and the rest fell into a battle formation in tow. Cabor would be the tip of their spear.

  A great dragon soon lay before Joshua's disbelieving eyes, swathed in chains. Little rivulets of blood trickled through the furrows of her mossy green scales, staining them a murky brown. When they approached, she lifted her head in feeble acknowledgment of her rescuers. Stone sentries stood in a square around her, clubs made from uprooted trees gripped in their blunt-fingered hands.

  Cabor came to a sudden halt, nearly heaving his passenger from his back. Joshua held tightly to Cabor's neck as he slid, claws shredding up the ground.

  “Off!” Cabor barked, lowering himself. Joshua jumped down and scrambled to get clear as the dragon surged forward. Wreathed in azure flames, Cabor was lightning through the sky. His rage erupted in a thunderous blast against a golem's rocky chest. The full might of the dragons fell swiftly upon the remainder. Beaten back by a maelstrom of stinging rocks and falling embers, Joshua took shelter beneath a tall tree, daring to peek out only once the cacophony of roars and snarls had faded.

  Scarlet shards sparkled everywhere, interspersed among the jagged bits of marble, granite, and limestone that they had once borne to life. The dragons cared little for these treasures, clawing at them and crushing them into the ground, spraying flames so hot and bright that Joshua had to look away.

  When at last Talya's chains were cut, a chorus of victorious roars shook the land. Cabor returned soon after and stood dutiful watch over him as the dragons swarmed through the forest, forming a perimeter with militaristic efficiency. Everywhere Joshua looked he could see a hulking scaled beast, shoulders hunched and head lowered, teeth bared and slick with saliva as they growled savage promises. No living creature would dare try to cross the ring of death around their princess.

  Three more dragons arrived soon after. Two slender bodyguards with smooth features, royals, Cabor explained, flew at the side of a larger beast. Both of them wore a golden harness bearing the seal of King Brammodar. Between them was their king, set apart by the golden bands and chains looped about his form, all set with jewels that glimmered brightly in the afternoon light. His golden adornments shone like the sun, and his subjects bowed their heads in deference as he touched down. Only the two royals that accompanied him did not, instead keeping a watchful eye on the forest. One watched to the north, and the other to the south. Joshua did not at all like the look that the south-facing dragon was giving him. He found himself gawking at it in horror, and the royal's green eyes narrowed further. A bauble hung on a steel chain around his neck, Magic leaked from it like the smoke of burning incense.

  The gathered dragons lowered their heads, wings spread, but the gesture went unnoticed by their king. Brammodar hurried to his daughter's side and would not acknowledge others around him for nearly an hour. All the while Joshua stood by, watching as the dragons studied their wounded princess.

  At last the dragon king turned his attention to Cabor and his unlikely ally. Cabor bowed deeply as his king approached.

  “Night Seeker, raise your head,” Brammodar said to him, and he did.

  “I owe you my deepest gratitude,” Brammodar said in earnest. “But I require more of you today. Someone must go to Tavyn and fetch a cart. My daughter, your princess, is poisoned and very weak. She must be carried to the portal in the human city.”

  A collective gasp from the crowd started off a flurry of quiet whispering like a match set to cannon fuse.

  “Of course, sire,” said Cabor without hesitation. “I go at once. However... this... this human... is linked to Princess Talya. It was that link we followed here. Grimlohr wishes him to be taken to Nobri. I would like to go with him, if it is no trouble…”

  Joshua found himself under the scrutinous golden eyes of the green and amber-scaled dragon king. It was another entry in a growing list of uncomfortable situations that he had never expected to encounter.

  “This one will be protected while your errand keeps you.”

  Cabor bowed once more before his king. He spread his wings and was off, leaving an icy chill in his wake and little bits of falling snow. Standing there among the unfamiliar creatures, all of whom were much bigger than Cabor, Joshua found himself missing the smaller dragon's company.

  Chapter 9

  The Dagger of Worlds

  Nobri, Arcamyn

  Then I
saw above me a sword that shone with light and it cut the heavens open.

  An extra car had been added to the train that carried Joshua and Cabor to Nobri. Along the way they sat in the empty carriage, trading stories of their homelands, each alien to the other.

  “When you left to fetch the cart for Talya... why you? Why not someone else?” Joshua asked.

  Cabor nodded slowly, mulling the question over.

  “Fastest,” he said eventually. It came out sounding like a question. He stretched his cobalt wings. They were white on the underside and the car always felt strangely cold when he did this.

  “You fly faster than the other dragons?”

  “Seeker,” he said. One word answers seemed to be the easiest for him. Otherwise he would have to pause and consider each word carefully. Sometimes a few words would come at a time, but the faster he went the more errors he made in his choices and pronunciation.

  “That's a type of dragon? Like the royals and the slayers and the guardians?”

  Cabor pointed at his chest with a claw. “Seeker.”

  There had been no other seekers at the rescue. Joshua wondered why, but when he asked the question Cabor simply frowned in confusion. Too abstract?

  The locomotive crawled into the station. Through the window steam billowed out and covered the crowded platform with thick clouds of puffy white. Men worked in the steam, heaving luggage and mail out of boxcars. Patrons gathered nearby, searching through trunks and luggage for their own. A pool of empty space formed around Cabor when he disembarked. A tall reptilian man emerged from the crowd at a brisk pace.

  “What are you doing? This is not discreet!” he hissed, storming up to the small gathering.

  “And you are?” Joshua asked. As he looked up at the tall drakorian he found it hard to imagine the well-dressed monster involved in any situation that could be described as 'discreet.'

  “I am Sil'krath. Here to bring you to Grimlohr and... and my master,” Sil'krath said, fumbling for his words. “Gather your belongings, quickly. Lest the entire kingdom hear of the wanderer and his night seeker.

  “We don't have anything,” Joshua said, holding up empty hands. This seemed to please the dragonman, whom briefly brightened.

  “Good, we can go,” Sil'krath said briskly and ushered for them to follow.

  “As for you,” Sil'krath said, jabbing a gnarled finger toward Cabor's nose. “You ought to know better. Make yourself scarce.” He shooed the dragon away as though it were no more than a housecat invading the dining room table.

  Cabor snarled, snorting another puff of frosty mist to underscore his hateful glare. He jogged to the far edge of the platform, shouldering his way through the crowds. With few exceptions, people were more eager to get out of the way of a fast-moving luggage cart than the irritated dragon. He spread his wings and darted into the sky. A cold rush of wind swept across the platform and went as unnoticed as the chilling breeze from a shop door left open too long on a cold winter evening.

  Sil'krath took a deep breath, gathering his dignity about him. He straightened his back and looked down at his charges over the tip of his snout with narrowed eyes. “Well, get a move on!”

  ***

  A map of Arcamyn and its neighboring kingdoms blanketed Marreth's once-cluttered desk. A stack of books and knickknacks lined the wall beneath a conspicuously bare spot where the map had once hung. The ink and paper world was marked with an odd assortment of copper coins and vaguely magical trinkets. Marreth stood at the west, leaning heavily on a crutch as he looked out over the Nethsillian Sea. At the opposite horizon was Grimlohr, situated at the mountainous source of the Rilrath River which separated the Ralian territories from their age old enemies, the Fendian Panthers. Grimlohr reached out and placed a small gold coin on the west edge of Naveria Forest, just outside of dragon territory.

  “Last I checked there were no towns in Naveria, least of all in the mountains,” Marreth said, eyeing the little speck of gold.

  “It is a small retreat, far off the beaten path. You will be safe there, far safer than any of these.” Grimlohr gestured to the rest of the tokens, most of which were other Silverwind mages and those few relatives the mage deemed trustworthy.

  “It's not some cave in the middle of nowhere is it?” Rickthicket asked. He was perched on the table, standing nearly directly on the center of Banida, his tiny paws crossing the boundaries of at least a dozen tiny barbarian kingdoms, many of which no longer existed.

  “It's an old hunting lodge my father built,” Grimlohr said. “He was fond of archery in his later years.”

  Marreth could hear Sil'krath downstairs, calling his name. He abandoned his crutch and sank deep into his desk chair, waiting for the imminent storm. The distraught majordomo flung the study door open and stalked toward Grimlohr with a wild look in his eye.

  The raven-haired man stood his ground. “I see you have returned from your errand,” he said, calmly. He might have hoped it would quell the majordomo's anger, but Marreth knew better.

  “This is an unmitigated disaster!” Sil'krath declared.

  “Were they seen?” Grimlohr cast a fleeting glance toward the two humans in question.

  “I don't think so,” Joshua offered halfheartedly.

  “Sil,” Marreth said, but the drakorian was fixated on Grimlohr and had begun waving his hands around, his temper boiling over like a forgotten kettle.

  “Of course they were seen! That night seeker was with him on the train!” Sil'krath hissed through tightly grit teeth. He straightened up to full height as a growl rumbled in his gut. Grimlohr's confident gaze was unassailable even in the shadow of the towering drakorian. Marreth had to give him credit for that. Not many men could stand up to Sil, but then again, Grimlohr was not like many men, nor like many dragons.

  “Sil,” Marreth repeated, louder this time.

  “I am aware,” Grimlohr said. “He was there at my behest. Someone needed to watch over our new friends. I trust the journey was pleasant?”

  “It was nice enough, assuming you mean the train,” Joshua said.

  “Cabor arrived nearly half an hour ago. He filled me in on the details.” Grimlohr chuckled. “He really must learn to take advantage of his alter. I don't think I've ever once seen him in it.”

  “I demand you explain this glaring oversight this instant,” Sil'krath growled, interposing himself between Grimlohr and Joshua.

  “SIL!” Marreth barked. Finally the elderly drakorian took notice and stepped back from Grimlohr. When he turned his attention to his master there was still a dour look etched deeply into his scaly face like cracks in dried desert earth.

  “Yes, Master Marreth?” Sil'krath asked, his sneer coming through in his voice. His eyes widened in alarm at the breech of decorum and he scrambled to regain his composure.

  “This was part of the plan,” Marreth said. “We sent Cabor along to make sure Joshua was seen. Now, you've left him standing in the doorway and haven't even introduced him yet.”

  “Well I,” Sil'krath's expression melted into near panic as he realized this gross dereliction of his duties. Majordomos had been dismissed for less, although not by men like Marreth Stormwood. “Yes, of course, forgive my impertinence.”

  The man from earth was shoved before him unceremoniously. Sil'krath bowed, stiff as stone, and extended his clawed right hand toward the two wanderers. “Master Marreth, may I present Joshua Woods, of Ashcrest.”

  “Marreth Stormwood,” Marreth said, the warmth in his voice unaffected by his servant's tirade. He offered Joshua his hand. “I am sorry for the troubles.”

  “It's... it's hard to believe...” Joshua said, fishing the coin out of his pocket.

  Marreth held out a bandaged hand to retrieve it, the gentle touch of his magic causing it to float right out of Joshua's hand and over to his own waiting palm.

  “Are you alright?” Joshua asked, concern creasing his brow. Marreth was growing accustomed to this reaction when people saw his burns and bandages.


  “Would you believe struck by lightning? I certainly didn't until they showed me the scorch mark,” Marreth commented. “Hard to believe I'm still standing.”

  “But you're not standing,” Rickthicket commented dryly. Marreth's apprentice had retreated to a corner of the table, using a box of wooden matches like the back of a sofa. He had out a carving knife and was paring away at one of the matches. When Marreth cast him a look of annoyance he stopped what he was doing and straightened up as though unjustly accused. He waved one of the half-carved matchsticks at the crutch in the corner.

  Marreth shrugged off the jab, his enthusiasm unbroken. He offered Joshua a chair. “Have a seat! Tell us about your journey, where did you come from?”

  “Ashcrest,” said Joshua, eyes drifting toward the unfamiliar map. “Cabor said you knew about that. I am looking for a charging focus and a way back to Ashcrest.”

  “I suppose you would be eager to leave...”

  “Chased by golems and dragged halfway across the kingdom with a big flying lizard, you're lucky he's not spitting on you,” Rickthicket remarked. He held up one of his carved matches. It looked somewhere between a cane and a wand, with a pointed tip on one end and the match's head on the other.

  “What are those for?” Joshua asked.

  “Spiders,” he said, the very word seeming to fill him with disgust.

  “Spiders...?”

  “Yes, Spiders. You'd carry torches too if the spiders were as big as you.”

  “I believe it would be best if you informed your staff of our arrangements,” Grimlohr said. He skirted past Sil'krath and gestured for the wanderers to follow him. “Joshua, if you would accompany me into the courtyard, we too have business to discuss.”

  Sil'krath looked to Marreth for an answer he was not prepared to give. “What arrangements?”

  Marreth looked to the map, the sanctuaries open to him marked by a few sparkling bits of gold and silver on the vastness of the continent. He felt the joy flow out of him. It had been nice to meet the wanderers, even if it was only a brief reprieve from the reality he now faced. When he spoke again, the vigor had gone from his voice, replaced by cold sobriety and the weight of responsibility. “Sit down, Sil.”