Dragonhunters

by Sabrina Chase

  Bové snorted. “All my ready cash has been confiscated, on suspicion of being criminal gains or some such. We’re going to need more than I had on me to get out of this. And then there’s getting out of Cathai, period, which will probably require even more bribes. I am very much afraid the government is in the process of collapsing.”

  Ardhuin wandered around the large cell. The walls were thick stone that looked like granite. The floor was stone as well, with a scattering of dirty straw. In one corner there was a malodorous bucket, but besides the few benches there was nothing else. Since the windows showed sky, they must be on one of the walls of the building.

  “But why are we imprisoned instead of just being expelled?” Dominic asked. “Are we being accused of a crime?”

  Bové shook his head. “More likely to await events and use us as a bargaining chip, either way. This is the governor’s armory, and his troops brought you in. He seems to be still loyal to the Empire. If the governor changes allegiance or loses a battle, the reason to keep us vanishes. If we can’t bribe our way out, we’ll have to send a message to the trade city representatives of Bretagne or some other Aeropan government. They can apply pressure we can’t. But it will take a while.”

  Ardhuin inclined her head at Dominic and walked over to the other wall. Markus and Stoller joined them, and she set up a light sound–‌confusion spell.

  “Well. I think this is where we should part company with Herr Bové,” Markus said. “Not that I wish him to remain a prisoner, but we certainly can’t wait to be released in the usual way.”

  “Abandon him? After all this?” Dominic was starting to look angry.

  “He isn’t going to want to go to Sonam’s valley, Dominic," Ardhuin said, "and we can’t really take him either. Will he be able to continue his expedition, with the country in the state it is in? We would have to leave him soon even if this hadn’t happened.”

  Dominic set his jaw stubbornly. “We should at least ask him. Going our own way is a little different than leaving him in a dungeon!”

  “And it’s not to be expected our sudden disappearance would make his captors happy with him either,” conceded Markus. “I would certainly prefer everyone on the other side of this wall. Shall we speak with him?”

  When the matter was explained to him, Bové was at first bewildered, and then angry. “What? Breaking out will make us hunted men. You have no idea…‌it will be an affront to their authority, and regardless of who they ally themselves with, they will chase us.”

  “Herr Bové, you know as well as we do your days of adventuring in Cathai are drawing to a close. At least until this troubled time passes. How important is it to you to make one more expedition? How long do you think it will take before you can safely travel again?” Markus was radiating pure sympathetic concern, and Ardhuin watched with admiration. You would think his only motive was to help Bové.

  Bové stood and kicked the wooden bench. “Damn it, that’s the thing. It’ll be a civil war when it goes, and it hasn’t really started yet. It could take ten years. If this is the last—‌well, I’ve got to get those bones from the Fire Cliffs. They are too exposed—‌won’t last ten years where they are, that’s for sure. It’s out…‌well, it’s out where even the nomads don’t go very often, so I doubt we’d have trouble with the military. A few bandits, perhaps. We could get our samples and go, three weeks at the most. But how do you plan to get out?”

  “We’ve got three magicians at hand. One still outside this building.” Even with the sound buffer, Ardhuin spoke softly. “But if we break free, you’ll be cutting off your contacts here, probably for good. Is it worth it to you? We cannot stay here long. We can try to make it seem like you were not involved, but…‌” she shrugged.

  “Yes, unlikely they would believe that.” Bové’s face worked. “Damn it to hell. I worked so hard for this…‌I will not give up now! Yes, I’ll escape with you. But let’s confuse them as much as possible, eh? Can these magicians of yours help with that?”

  Ardhuin nodded. “That should not be difficult at all.”

  They waited until twilight had darkened the stone cell. With the others standing about her so the guards would see nothing, Ardhuin knelt and placed her hands against a large stone block at the base of the wall. She let the fluctuating power of Crystalline Polythrenode vibrate through her, sensing and testing. Strictly speaking, the rock was not a crystal, but the individual granite grains were. She just had to find enough large ones to let the resonance take hold, and then shatter.

  What she got was a crumbling, brittle mass that had to be kicked and then shoveled out by hand. The last section was a delicate operation, since she did not know where the hole would open up on the street. So first a small spyhole, then illusion, and then the final opening for their escape.

  More illusion, to make it seem they were all still in the cell, asleep, and to cover the hole on the inside, and then they ran silently through the dark streets. They had to find Gutrune, and some gunpowder or dynamite if they could. If not, she’d just have to make it look like dynamite had gone off. It was crucial to their plan that no one suspect magic had been used in their escape.

  Bové led the way, being more familiar with the town. Their path avoided the main streets, which tended to have uniformed men present, and instead went down narrow alleys with uneven footing. Ardhuin was sure she heard a shutter close as they approached and only hoped whoever was watching hadn’t noticed anything. Her avoidance magic either had to be in one continuous shell, and they were too strung out for that, or on individuals, in which case they might lose each other in the darkness. She settled for blurriness and speed.

  “We’re nearly at the inn, and no sign of Gutrune or Sonam,” Dominic whispered. "I hope they are all right.”

  Ahead, Bové held up a hand and they hugged the walls. Now she could see what he had seen—‌more soldiers, leaving the main courtyard. They did not seem alert or tense, more like they had finished a hard day’s work and were planning to return home. They left, leaving the inn apparently unguarded.

  “I suppose one of us should see if it’s safe to go back,” Markus murmured, then stopped, his head jerking up. “On second thought, someone is trying to discreetly get our attention.”

  It was Gutrune. Her illusion remained unchanged, but from Dominic’s expression, she had taken some damage—‌and she did seem to be favoring one leg.

  “It is good to see you—‌I was afraid we would need to break you out of the armory.”

  “Were you seen? What happened to Sonam?”

  Gutrune smiled. “He is with the horses. At least we were able to save them…‌they took everything else. Everything,” she said to Ardhuin, significantly.

  Including her magical gear. All of their luggage. And worst of all, the magical salts. She exchanged a horrified glance with Dominic and Markus. If it were discovered and used by the combatants, the region would be devastated. The secret would be bound to get out. And they would want more…‌

  Bové sagged against the wall, his eyes closed. “That’s it, then. I can’t continue without the supplies—‌and even if we had the money, you can’t get that stuff out here. Who took it? Did you see?” His eyes snapped open and blazed with anger.

  “They appeared to be soldiers, with the dark blue uniforms with black belts. They had several carts. They took the road to the northeast. I followed them to a large camp with a wooden palisade, but it was guarded and I could not get inside.”

  “So. Not the governor.” Bové stared out into the darkness as if he would track them, lips compressed. “As I feared. One of the local generals has set himself up as a warlord and wants any Aeropan weapons and gear he can get his hands on.” He spun back to Gutrune. “What do we have, besides the horses?”

  “Water skins. A few bags of food we managed to get on the horses. The weapons we have on us.” Gutrune’s voice was cool. “What do we need? What is our plan?”

  Bové was silent for a moment. “We shouldn’t t
alk here. Let’s go to the horses.”

  The horses, and Sonam, were in a dusty, rocky ravine that had a thin trickle of water just deep enough to drink from and a few ragged pine trees. Sonam’s face lit up when he saw them approach.

  “I believe you are quite determined to keep going, even with this latest disaster. Am I correct?” Bové looked at Ardhuin, Dominic, and Markus in turn. Ardhuin nodded. “Well, I’m becoming desperate myself. Here is what I propose. There is a certain well–‌known bandit leader in this region. Kungam. I’ve…‌encountered him before. Word is he keeps the terms of any agreement, so I suppose you could call him an honest criminal, but still—‌he is a thief and a brigand, and he kills easily.”

  “Are you proposing to hire this man?” Markus said. “What would prevent him from stealing from us, again?”

  “Only his reputation for honesty, as I said. We have nothing to hire him with, except the information about the location of the warlord’s camp. He would be more interested in striking at his enemy and capturing their supplies, and would have less interest in ours.”

  “We have few options,” Gutrune said after a moment of everyone deep in thought. “Regardless of which direction we travel, we will need either money or supplies. If the military is in open rebellion, it will be equally dangerous to traverse their territory.”

  “I agree.” Dominic got to his feet again. “When can we leave for this bandit’s hideout?”

  “It isn’t safe to camp here; it’s too close to the town. We should ride as far as we can tonight.” Yet Bové made no move to the horses. He turned his head sharply and stared at Dominic. “But first…‌I hope you realize my warnings were in earnest. The danger is greater than I supposed when we spoke in Rennes. If I have any reason to think your wife may be planning to join us here, I will not take you to Kungam.”

  Dominic sighed and carefully did not look in her direction. “Bové, I give you my word. My wife is not traveling to meet me, or wandering about by herself anywhere in Cathai.”

  Some of the tension left Bové. “I am glad to hear it. Now, I must ask, although it is clear you do not wish to speak of it. Who are your magicians, and are they willing to fight in this raid?”

  “Asgaya, Talbot, and Sonam. And these two…‌er, Hentzau and Graustark, are not magicians but are…‌well, call them a kind of soldier.”

  Ardhuin stifled a laugh. Hentzau and Graustark was the name of a Baerlen bookstore.

  “Excellent! It will be much easier with our own men—‌and we can make sure our gear is rescued. The moon will be up soon; we’d best be off.”

  “There is still one more thing,” Ardhuin said hesitantly. “To cover up our escape, since we don’t want them looking for magicians—‌do you know where we might find some explosives?”

  “A pity we didn’t know they kept gunpowder here when we escaped,” Markus murmured as he and Gutrune ducked into dark shadow near the armory. “It would have saved us the extra trip.”

  She turned and glared at him. “If you cannot be quiet, go back to the horses. I do not need your help.”

  It was probably true, but he felt no compulsion to admit it. “It will be faster with my assistance, and the others cannot afford to wait long for us.”

  Gutrune made no response, possibly because she agreed but more likely to stifle conversation. Markus sighed quietly. It was probably also not politic to point out if he had not accompanied her, Stoller would have definitely insisted on coming along.

  The moonlight was quite bright now, making the streets risky but the shadows deeper. He had learned a little of Ardhuin’s aversion magic, and the delicate degrees she employed, and he decided it was worth the effort now. Just enough to divert the eye, long enough for them to move out of sight of any watcher.

  The armory was quiet. The guards had not yet discovered their prisoners were nothing more than illusions or that there was a gaping hole in their thick stone walls. According to Bové, the gunpowder stores were located on the top of the armory, in a separate wooden structure for safety. Should a random spark set it off, at least the blast would not destroy the entire building. They needed to get up there without being seen and then set off enough to conceal their escape tunnel.

  An idea occurred to Markus. “We should set off the whole store, if we can. It will look like the action of the military, perhaps, striking back against the governor’s police.”

  “And blow ourselves up with it? Too much effort, too much risk.”

  “I can do a delayed fire,” Markus said. “I wasn’t planning on that much sacrifice.”

  “You would still need to get up to the roof yourself, no? Not worth it.” She made a sharp gesture.

  The armory was, unfortunately, designed to prevent persons of ill intent from entering. The walls were high and smooth, with only a few windows. The gate was guarded even now.

  “So, hypothetically, if you were here by yourself—‌what would you do?”

  “I would be able to hear myself think instead of wondering why the person supposedly helping me was incapable of silence.” Gutrune gritted her teeth. “But since you insisted on coming, why not use your magic to lift me up?”

  A fair, and painful, question. “Because I am not nearly as powerful as your friend. A smaller object, perhaps—‌or something that would not be damaged in a fall. I could not be sure of levitating you so high with safety. Lowering is much easier than lifting.” When it looked like she would protest, he added emphatically, “No. Let us find another way. Do we have any rope?”

  “Not long enough, no. All I have is this.” She indicated the long sash that wrapped around her Cathan clothing.

  In the end they combined magic and the sash, a barred window with a ledge, and a wooden flagpole. Markus boosted Gutrune with strength and a little magic high enough for her to grab the window bars, swing herself to the ledge, and then use the sash to help him reach the ledge as well. From there, he used pure magic to lift her to where she could loop the sash around the flagpole and pull herself to the roof.

  It was agonizing, not being able to see what she was doing. Almost as agonizing as being forced into quite close contact on the small ledge, where her illusion had no effect at all on what she felt like. Moreover, he could not dwell on that brief pleasure because he had to be alert to catch the gunpowder and, eventually, her. It was most unfair. And what could he do if she was discovered?

  After what seemed like hours but probably wasn’t, he heard a faint grating noise but could see nothing. More mysterious sounds, some that sounded like something being torn, but still no sign of the sash, which was the signal. Then he saw a darker shape descending slowly down the wall. When it was close enough, he saw it was a small wooden cask, attached to sections of the flag formerly on the pole, which had been cut in sections and tied together. He grabbed the makeshift rope, gave a tug, and the full weight of the cask hung in his hands as the end of the rope fell on him. It was not long enough to reach the ground, and he did not want to risk the noise, so he tied one end to the bars of the window.

  Then he saw the sash, and he braced himself with his magic ready. He could not fail…‌he would not. Gutrune swung over the edge of the wall and, still holding the sash, let herself fall. He did not attempt to hold her in place, only to slow her fall—‌and when she passed the ledge, he caught her and allowed himself to fall as well. They landed hard, and he quickly reached up to untie the cask before they ran off.

  “Where is the tunnel?” Gutrune whispered, breathing hard.

  Markus searched for landmarks. There had been a watering trough and a broken flagstone with weeds growing in the cracks…‌

  “There.” He trailed his hand across the stone to find the edge of the illusion, and pointed.

  Gutrune took off her Cathan jacket, put it over the cask, and used the pommel of her dagger to crack the wood. A small trickle of gunpowder sifted out. She left a careful trace over the stones to the hidden tunnel, then tucked the cask inside.

  Markus reache
d in his pocket for some matches and handed them to her. She stiffened, then reached for them, taking one from the box and striking it on a flagstone. The trail of gunpowder flared, and she jumped up to run. Markus raised his hand, forming the magic for a fireshell. Hoping it would work. The flare of light flashed like lightning, heading for the roof, and he ran after Gutrune.

  The roof of the armory exploded with a roar. Fragments of stone flew by them, hitting the walls as they ran. I do hope the horses don’t break free, he thought. They would just have to steal more if they did.

  “Was that really necessary?” Gutrune snapped.

  Markus grinned. “It isn’t polite to keep all the explosions to yourself, you know. Especially when I was so helpful.”

  “Helpful? Blowing up the entire powder store is helpful? We were just supposed to cover up the escape!”

  “We did. With rubble. Besides, now the police will be too busy to chase us and will blame the warlord for this. With luck, they’ll attack him.”

  “With our luck, they’ll attack him the same time we do and we’ll be caught in the middle.” They had reached the horses, which were nervous and wide–‌eyed but still tied up. Gutrune turned back toward the armory, which was burning and giving an orange glow to the sky. “Oh, very well. It was quite effective, I suppose.”

  Markus bowed from the saddle. It was a grudging admission, but he was not complaining. “Milady, if you wish, the next building explosion is yours.”

  Chapter 14

  Dominic gazed over the open, grass–‌covered plains with disfavor. He was tired, sore, hungry, and quite sure they would soon see troops of some variety coming up over the rolling hills to attack them. The opportunity to ride had rarely come his way when he was a student, and not much more often since his marriage. He was greatly regretting it at the moment. Markus and Gutrune were of course completely comfortable in the saddle, and Ardhuin soon regained her childhood skill. The only one of the party that was worse off than him was Sonam.