Reyanna flashed him a pout, but she nodded. ‘I’ll keep myself safe. I like my skin without additional holes. You make sure that you don’t become the victim of a lucky hunter either. Much of what we aim to do relies on your reputation. Even the humans have heard stories of Cadorian Dragonbane.’
‘Of this I am aware.’ Cadorian turned his mount back into the trees. ‘We’ll return to the main force and camp in the forest for one more night. And we’ll hope that the dracs don’t watch the forest for rising smoke.’
‘From your lips to Soansha’s ears.’
11 th Ankarte.
The dracs were not best pleased with the arrival of a small army of elves in their territory. Cadorian could not really blame them; the elves would have reacted the same way to a drac
intrusion into the forest. Importantly, the elves would have reacted in more or less precisely the same way.
Something was different about the dracs, Cadorian was informed by his squad leaders. They were more organised than usual. Their attacks were at least somewhat coordinated. Cadorian got the impression that he was being given a distorted picture, that his subordinates were telling him things were less of a problem than they were. It was a common issue with management of any sort and, in this case, was likely exacerbated by Cadorian’s reputation.
Put simply, no one wanted to admit to the hero that they were having trouble with a few upright lizards.
Cadorian assumed that the other elves would have been surprised to discover that this was what he expected of dracs. His discussions with military leaders prior to leaving on this expedition had drawn a picture of a species of massive inferiors.
Dracs had always had a technological disadvantage which they seemed incapable of making up, but they had been organised, a force to be reckoned with so long as they stuck to their own territories. Now they were split into tribes, each holding its own land against everyone else, drac or not. If one tribe caused a problem, you could move in and wipe them out without worrying that any of the others would provide aid. There was no ‘nation of dracs’ – it was every drac for himself, or his tribe if the tribal leader was strong enough.
That was not what Cadorian was seeing now. He had been through two skirmishes and had seen at least a half-dozen tribe colours in the field. The squad leaders were returning similar stories from other fights. Someone or something had organised the tribes, and Cadorian had a good idea what was happening. Serpens was not risen yet, but he was exerting his influence on the tribes through the shamans who communicated with him. After millennia of disarray, the dracs were working together as a race once again and Cadorian took it as a sign.
~~~
‘What do you mean, he’s missing?’ Reyanna asked. Her voice was showing some signs of stress and a lot of signs of anger.
‘Lord Cadorian’s mount was found after the last skirmish, but there was no sign of him,’ the unfortunate sergeant who was reporting the news replied. ‘We don’t know where he is. It seems unlikely that any group of dracs could have captured him, but…’
‘I want him found,’ Reyanna ordered. Technically, she did not have the right to give orders, but no one was going to argue with someone like her. Aside from anything else, she looked about ready to rip someone’s head off. ‘Send out scouting parties. Find him!’
‘If it’s at all possible, we’ll find him.’
Reyanna could see all her ambitions falling down around her ears.
Politically, losing Cadorian would be a disaster. Socially, losing Cadorian would end the possibility of him becoming her consort, which would have resulted in her family’s rise up the social strata at a meteoric rate. She refused to admit the last part, which was that she found his company and physical attentions much to her liking and would regret that loss too.
Whatever her reasoning, Reyanna was not going to let this go without a satisfactory resolution.
‘I don’t care whether it’s possible. Find him!’
12 th Ankarte.
The dracs had disarmed him. That was to be expected and he had not argued, though he had insisted that they took good care of his swords. Given that he had walked into a drac encampment and surrendered, they had decided to humour him. They had also agreed to his request, following a little application of diplomacy. The fact that Cadorian spoke their language helped; they had seemed particularly surprised that an elf spoke Draconian.
It was a couple of hours after dawn when Cadorian was taken before one of the local tribal leaders. Once, this had been a powerful and very formidable drac. There were still signs of a powerful body, but he was ageing. His scales had a greyish quality to them and he could no longer hold his body as straight as he once could. His mind was still strong, however. You could see it in his eyes; dracs were not known for their intelligence, but this one was a different matter. That was probably why he was still the chief of his tribe, and why the other tribes were, apparently, listening to him.
Cadorian gave a bow to the old drac. ‘You know who I am, chieftain?’
‘I know who you are, elf. The shamans speak of your return.’
‘And what do they say should be done about my return?’
‘They say… that we should wait. Why is that? I wonder if you know because my counsel would be to strike you down where you stand.’
‘I should imagine that Serpens knows something which you do not.
Tell me, how long have you had his skull? How many attempts to raise him have failed?’
The chief’s inner eyelids flicked rapidly. When he spoke, it was with annoyance. ‘There have been several attempts since the skull was unearthed. The humans helping us have failed us thus far, but they will succeed.’
‘They won’t. The reason why your shamans say to wait before killing me is that I know why they will fail. When I killed
Serpens, we knew there was the possibility that he could be brought back and we took steps to ensure that would never happen.’ Cadorian paused. ‘Well, it would never happen unless someone were to betray the secret of how to raise him.’
The chief regarded Cadorian carefully for several seconds. ‘I don’t trust you, elf.’
‘Then let me see if I can’t gain some measure of trust.’
13 th Ankarte.
Reyanna restrained herself until she could get Cadorian alone, several hours after his return to the camp the elves had set up atop a hill in the swamplands. He had simply walked out of the swamp, dirty and a little bruised for sure, but apparently little the worse for his ordeal and bearing a lot of intelligence on the disposition and organisation of the drac forces.
‘You got yourself captured just to gather intelligence on our opponents?’ Reyanna asked while Cadorian washed. ‘Why didn’t you tell anyone what you were doing?’
‘Because you would have stopped me,’ Cadorian replied. He was right, of course, but still…
‘I believe I can speak for our entire contingent and the elven nation when I say: don’t do that again.’
Cadorian turned his head, flashing Reyanna a smile full of confidence. ‘It won’t be necessary to do it again. In a couple of days, there will be no drac opposition to gather intelligence on.
Trust me.’
15 th Ankarte.
The sounds of battle rang around Reyanna and, for the life of her, she could not understand why. Cadorian had come up with the battle plan and briefed the troops extensively on it. Attack one village and the problem would be solved. Somehow, probably related to the rising of Serpens, the dracs had become united under a single chieftain; wipe out that chieftain and his tribe and that unity would vanish. Better yet, it would stop Serpens from being resurrected.
They had split their force to cover the primary entry and exit points of the drac village. The main force would attack through the main gate while a smaller contingent were to make sure that a rear gate did not become an escape route. It was Cadorian’s plan
– he was the one who had seen the village and knew its layout –
&n
bsp; but everyone was happy with it. Cadorian’s estimate of the village’s strength put this operation well within the capabilities of the force. It was unusual to see a drac village with a palisade and they would be attacking uphill, but the dracs
appeared to be oblivious to the possibility of attack. The gate was open from dawn to dusk and that had been confirmed by scouts.
Had it been too good to be true? How could Cadorian have fallen for such an obvious trap? Reyanna had no answers, but she knew that the assault had gone badly wrong. Around her, elves were fighting and dying against an overwhelming force of dracs. She had seen a lesser dragon flying over the village! Even that should not have been enough to stop Cadorian Dragonbane, but Cadorian was nowhere to be seen. Was he already dead? Had he been picked off early as the most dangerous of the attackers?
Cowering beside a rough, wooden hut, all Reyanna could do was pray that her ancient lover was still alive.
~~~
Garan threw a Firebolt at an attacking drac and fumed. The entire thing had been a trap, he was sure of it. The village might have been a real drac village and there was every possibility that it belonged to some powerful chieftain, but the dracs had known they were coming, had been able to bring in reinforcements from other tribes. They had called in a dragon, for Soansha’s sake! No one had spoken of a lesser dragon in the swamplands.
What worried Garan most was that the dracs seemed to know what to expect. It was like they had seen the plan before the elves had even set out for the village. In fact, now he really thought about it, it was exactly like they had been in the meetings with Cadorian to decide the best way to handle the assault on the village. If that was the case, then there was only one explanation. Everything he knew suggested that that explanation made no sense, but it had to be true. Cadorian had betrayed them.
The White Castle had to be told. Garan turned and a searing pain lanced through his chest. Briefly, he wondered what was happening to him, but then he found himself looking into a pair of green eyes. Cadorian was smiling. His hand held one of his swords, the blade thrust through Garan’s chest.
‘Why?’ Garan asked, though he was not entirely sure that any sound had escaped his lips.
‘Because this world is not worth saving,’ Cadorian said. He yanked his sword free and Garan’s vision went black.
~~~
‘Why?’ Reyanna asked. She was tied at wrists and ankles, but aside from that she was comfortable. She had thought she was going to die, but the dracs had escorted her to a hut, tied her, and put her on a pallet lined with furs. The arrival an hour or two later of Cadorian had made her heart soar, until she had
heard him talking with the dracs in their own tongue. Realisation had dawned, but it was refusing to really sink into her heart.
‘Why?’ Cadorian answered. ‘Because my people are dead and gone.
The race ruling what’s left of the Great Forest is a shadow of what we once were. I destroyed the dragons, gave the entire world to the elves, and what have they done with it? Handed it to an upstart race unfit to kiss our feet.’
‘So, you’re going to destroy everything ?’
‘No, there will be survivors. Those fit to call themselves elves will rise from the ashes. You and I will be among them. I’m going to take you somewhere that Serpens can’t reach and, in time, we’ll return to a new elven nation, stronger than ever. If any of the humans survive, we’ll wipe them out and reclaim this world for ourselves.
‘That’s insane.’
Cadorian smiled. ‘You’ll come to see things my way, Reyanna Ravenhair. You have no choice.’
The White Castle, 30 th Ankarte.
The Master frowned. He had an expressive frown thanks to his lined face. This frown was born of frustration and worry and he turned it toward Sharassa. ‘Has Garan contacted you?’
‘No, Master,’ Sharassa replied. She was also looking worried.
‘I’ve heard nothing from him in the last three weeks.’
‘I can’t reach him. Something is wrong.’
‘The last thing Garan reported was that they were marching into the Blistered Swamp and encountering no major resistance.’
‘Mm…’ The old wizard pondered for a few seconds, rubbing his beard between thumb and forefinger. ‘Something has changed and we have no other option. When will Kana be ready to leave?’
‘Not before Sokarte, if we keep to the schedule for her training.
Six months.’
‘She needs those skills to be useful. Serpens has not risen yet
, so there’s still time. There has to be time.’ His frown deepened. ‘What could have happened to Cadorian?’
‘We won’t know until Kana goes looking for him. Whatever it is, it can’t be good.’
‘Your talent for understatement is astounding, Sharassa.’
Dragonspur Mountains, 2 nd Tankarte.
The huge, bleached skull sat in stark contrast to the black basaltic rock of the caldera. Seventeen days of riding had brought them to what had once been Serpens’ lair in the Dragonspur Mountains. Long before the first life had walked the world, this had been a volcano. Or that was what Cadorian had been told when they had discovered the dragon’s lair. They had managed to lure Serpens out of his stronghold to die; there had been no way to get to him inside it. Now he was back. Well, part of him was.
‘You have only the skull?’ Cadorian asked.
‘That is all we should need.’ The speaker was not an elf and no longer a human. Habarus was a lich, the animated corpse of a necromancer too stubborn to die. Desiccated by the processes which had turned him from a living satanist into an undying one, he continued thanks to a potion which he had to consume regularly, and also because he refused to die. He was still among the most powerful men in the cult of Satan and he thought he knew all there was to know about bringing Serpens back to life.
‘You need the heart,’ Cadorian replied. ‘The skull leaches magic from the world wherever it rests. The heart is its opposite.
Together, they cancel each other out and provide the necessary anchor for Serpens in this world. Until they are reunited, you will never succeed in your rituals, no matter how many dracs you sacrifice.’ Cadorian had, in fact, stopped them from carrying out their latest experiment: the ritual called for a hundred dracs to be given to Serpens, but a hundred was not working, so they had decided to try a thousand.
‘There are no records anywhere of a heart.’
‘There wouldn’t be. There shouldn’t have been if the plan to stop this very circumstance from happening was properly carried out.’
Habarus’s eyes narrowed. ‘But you know where it is?’
‘If the plan was followed, I know where it was taken. We’ll need to search for it, but it can be found. The heart is… dangerous.
There will be plenty of signs to indicate where it was eventually hidden if we go looking.’
‘Where? Where will you look?’
‘It was taken to the remotest location we could think of. North.
Far north. On modern maps, the area is known as the Ice Peaks.’
‘Skonar Island?’
‘As you say. It will take time to get there, find the heart, and return, but until we do, your rituals will fail again and again.
I don’t believe the dracs will continue to trust you if you just
continue to slaughter them in the hopes of success which will never come.’
Habarus did not seem to spend long considering the problem. ‘The lizards will be useless that far north. You’ll need humans to help you. I’ll send word to Sintar and have my people meet you along the way. I warn you, elf, that if you are deceiving us–’
Cadorian waved the threats away. ‘Save your words, lich. I have no doubt that you’ll try to kill me should I break my word.
Luckily for you, I have as much interest in returning Serpens to the world as you do. It may take a year, if we’re unlucky, but it will happen. I will return with the heart. Serpens will rise. And
the world will burn.’
Chapter Five: The Road to Adventure
The White Castle, 1 st Sokarte 6023.
Kana stood beside her lumpy bed and contemplated her room. More precisely, she contemplated the contents of her room and considered what she should take with her. That morning, the Master had told her that she would be leaving for the south in one week. Her lessons had been completed to the satisfaction of her tutors and it was time to leave. It had not been easy getting to that point.
The Master had seemed to flip-flop over his decision to finally set Kana free on a weekly basis. Nothing had been said, to Kana anyway, but every time she saw the old wizard looking her way, it seemed as though his expression was worried, annoyed, or both. At least he was paying her some attention. Rumours had made their way around the castle four or five months before suggesting that Cadorian and his team had gone silent and were presumed dead.
This morning, the Master had confirmed that nothing had been heard of them since Ankarte and that her primary task was to attempt to discover what had happened. He had known for seven months that something had gone badly wrong with Cadorian, and yet he had still waited to send her out.
Well, he was sending her south and now she needed to decide which of her belongings to leave behind and which to take with her. To be honest, there was not much to decide on. She had clothes, but not an extensive list of them and carrying all of them was not going to be a burden. Over the past few months, two of the leather vests she liked had been given enchantments which made them as good as armour, so that was a plus. She was going to need a cooking pot and a canteen for water. Food was not a problem: she could conjure something out of the air if she had to. She would, however, need something to put the food in once summoned and something to carry water in between rivers. She would need her staff, obviously. A staff was practically essential to any mage and that went double for a battle mage.
She would take her writing kit because, if it came to it, she could make money writing spell scrolls. She had a budget of two hundred silver coins with which to purchase anything she needed and get her started in her travels. She had determined, using what she called the loaf index since it was based on the cost of bread, that that amounted to about twenty thousand yen. Not a lot, but probably enough for a while. She would have to start making money in some way soon after she reached civilisation.
The Girl Who Dreamed of a Different World Page 10