Dragonhunters

by Sabrina Chase

  “She’s waiting for us,” she hissed. “If you want to help her, find our luggage!”

  That worked. He even picked up the dropped lance.

  “Maybe we should disguise ourselves as soldiers.” Dominic gestured at the bodies. Gutrune hesitated, but only for a moment. They were going to be near the most secure area of the camp, and in the darkness the imposture would not need to be perfect. They hacked the tunics free and draped them loosely over their existing clothes, since they would never have fit the larger Aeropans—‌and they would also be able to remove them quickly if the bandits came by.

  They still moved cautiously but did not make as much of an effort to seek cover. Gutrune took turns with Stoller crossing open areas. She began to see what looked like a large tent ahead, with large iron torches around it, along with guards. Beyond it was an imposing multistory wood building that had the air of a fortified dwelling. The general’s quarters, most likely, which would make the tent a likely prospect for their gear.

  Their improvised uniforms would not pass muster here. Guards ringed the entire circumference, and closely enough that it would be impossible to take out one without the others noticing. A distraction, then? But what would be more distracting than a pitched battle? The guards looked nervous, but they were remaining at their posts.

  No reinforcements. Their task was to guard the tent, clearly. They would rally to an obvious attack. So, she needed a secondary attack to draw attention away from their quieter entrance. If only she had her rifle…‌

  “Do you think you will have any degree of accuracy with that?”

  Stoller gave her a resigned shrug, hefting the rifle. “It belongs in a museum.” It had engraved brass insets and carving on the stock. “I got the powder and bullets too. If you don’t need a rapid rate of fire, miss, I can manage.”

  “Very well. Herr Kermarec, you remain here. Stoller and I will attack the front. When the guards here move to assist, use this to cut your way inside.” She held out her knife.

  He wasn’t paying attention. He was staring over her shoulder, back toward the battle. “Someone using magic just ran past that building,” Dominic said. “But it isn’t…‌that is, I think it was Asgaya.”

  She turned as he finished speaking, hugging the deeper shadows as she moved. She crouched down, making a quiet whistle like a birdcall.

  “Was that for me?” Markus sank down against the wall beside her, breathing in deep, gasping breaths from exertion. “We’ve taken the gate and the fire golem is wreaking havoc inside, so I thought I would try and find you and see how you were doing.”

  “We need your magic to create a diversion. We need to get inside that tent.”

  His head sank down. “Milady, I am desolate…‌but I am spent. I barely had enough power to cast shadow just now, and I’ll pay for it later. That’s why I left the main battle—‌I was not much use without a weapon, and there were too many angry men who had theirs and wanted to use them on me. But perhaps I can assist another way?” Trying not to let her disappointment show, she explained her intent. Markus had regained his breath by now. “A frontal assault? That is not in your usual style. And I don’t care for the odds.”

  “Nor do I, but if we wait for Kungam’s men, they can just as easily take our equipment for themselves as give it to us.”

  “What if it is not the right place?”

  “It is.” Dominic was rather pale, but still clutching the lance he had claimed. “I saw bright magic through the entrance when that guard came out, just a glimpse.”

  Gutrune felt her frustration build. They didn’t have enough weapons, or magic, or anything to work with.

  “Did you see anything useful on your way here?” she asked Markus.

  He shook his head. “A barn of some kind, most likely pigs from the smell. Oh, and a kitchen. We might find some knives, or spices,” he added, a doubtful expression on his face.

  She felt a spurt of hope. “I have an idea.”

  The barn did contain pigs. The kitchen, as she hoped, had cooking oil in quantities suitable for providing for a large number of hungry men. The barn also had rope, and Dominic’s lance proved to be an effective pig motivator. In short order a stampede of frantic pigs dragging leaking oil casks from ropes around their necks bore down on the hapless guards, who stared in horrified confusion at this new threat. The guards’ attempts to turn the pigs only had the happy effect of tangling the ropes around one of the iron torch stands, saving Gutrune and the others the effort of setting the oil on fire themselves. For a moment, the squealing and screaming even drowned out the sounds of the battle.

  The pigs diverted, all the guards were focused on putting out the fire. Gutrune quickly cut a slit in the back of the tent and they slipped inside.

  “Where was it?” she whispered to Dominic. He waved, indicating a section of the crowded tent.

  The tent was full of bales and boxes, but there weren’t many Aeropan trunks to sort through. They quickly found their baggage in the pile, and Gutrune lunged for the box with her triple rifle. It appeared undamaged, and she quickly loaded it. Now their chances had improved considerably.

  “It’s in here.” Dominic pointed. “Someone else needs to take it.” He was squinting and shielding his eyes.

  “No, we certainly don’t want anyone else finding that.” Markus reached in the trunk and took out the clay jar, which he wrapped in a piece of silk and tucked inside his Cathan disguise. “I’ll go see how the guards are doing, shall I?”

  He moved off silently in the gloom. Gutrune stood watch while Stoller gathered more of their belongings that would be immediately useful or should not be appropriated, while Dominic sorted out the gear Ardhuin would need.

  Markus returned and knelt beside Gutrune. “It appears they have put out the fire. I am a trifle concerned we have not yet seen any of the others, though. Perhaps we should go and see if they need our help. Not that I can do much”—‌and there was a trace of bitterness in his voice—‌“I am no mage. It will be several hours before I can do anything.” He felt at the front of his jacket, frowning. “Unless…‌”

  Without thought, her hand reached out and caught his wrist. “No.”

  Markus went completely still, making no attempt to escape her grasp. So why was she still gripping him so tightly she could feel his pulse?

  “With it I would not be useless.” His voice was rough.

  Her breath hissed out, fury flooding her. “If you use that, you have no idea what it will do to you in the end. You may not be able to cast magic at this moment, but do you think it ends here? There will be other battles—‌and if you have injured yourself in a misguided attempt to assist now, you will truly be useless then.”

  “This, from one who seems determined to sacrifice herself on the altar of duty? Who will take any risk in that service, who seeks out the most dangerous tasks? Why should I not take dangerous risks too?” He sounded as angry as she felt, and his words only enraged her further.

  “I take risks because I do not want to be a sacrifice. I want to live to my fullest extent, not be kept in a velvet–‌lined box and only taken out to be admired on special occasions. But even then, I act in service—‌not for my own personal gratification. I will not be wasted—‌and you should not be wasted either.” The anger had burned away, and now all she felt was a bone–‌deep fatigue. “Promise me you will not use the salts. You do not know…‌consider the source and what he has done in the past for power.” Her voice shook, remembering the fevered course of the magic in her body, her mind.

  She felt his free hand cover hers, warm and strong, and lift it to his lips. “I give you my word.”

  Chapter 15

  It was a rout. Even Ardhuin, inexperienced in warfare, could see that. Any vestige of fight had left the soldiers when it was discovered the general had run away, abandoning them to their fate. Pale dawn was growing visible on the horizon and dusting a few thin, high clouds with pink.

  The fire golem was becoming thin and
pale, surrounded by a cloud of bitter smoke, but she did not disperse it. Kungam was still striding about the camp, stone–‌faced. She presumed he was angry, but it was difficult to tell. The bandit did not allow any feelings to show. She, on the other hand, could not conceal her worry. Where were the others? Were they safe?

  Kungam eventually headed for the central building, past a large tent with scorch marks along the front. Someone else must have done that—‌the fire golem had not gone that far in the battle. She heard voices, speaking Gaulan, inside the building. She stopped the golem and went inside. If it wasn’t Dominic, maybe it was someone who had seen him recently.

  It was Bové, soot marking his face and a crude bandage on one arm. He was grimacing, either from annoyance or pain. “Ah, there you are, Talbot. How did you fare?”

  “Better than you, from the looks of it. Have you seen Kermarec?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve had worse—‌at least the bullet went through. You don’t want to see what this bunch thinks constitutes surgery. I often do a better job myself with iodine paste and a penknife, but it’s difficult to operate on your own arm.” He glanced quickly at the door. Ardhuin turned and saw Dominic standing there with Markus Asgaya behind him. He appeared tired but unhurt.

  “I thought I recognized that fire golem.” He smiled wearily. “We found our supplies. The important things have been accounted for.”

  Ah. That was a relief.

  Some of the bandits were dragging forward captives wearing rich silks. They did not look like fighters—‌one man, in fact, was quite elderly and huddled behind the others, his eyes wide with fear. Kungam addressed them in his usual blunt, straightforward style. One snarled defiance at him but the rest were silent in a sullen, hangdog way.

  Kungam gazed at them for a moment, gave an order that was greeted with laughter and cheers by his men but pale–‌faced horror by the captives, then appeared to dismiss them from his mind. He turned and approached the Aeropans, speaking to Bové.

  Bové translated. “He says we have more than fulfilled the terms of the agreement. We may take whatever animals or gear we need from the camp, and our supplies. He also wishes to thank the magicians—‌and asks that the fire demon be sent away, as it disturbs his men.”

  “I’ll dispel it now.” Ardhuin headed for the door, passing the captives, who were being roped together. The old man, clutching his staff, gave her a look of pure hatred as she passed.

  “Look out!” Bové shouted behind her, and she spun around. The old man had raised his staff over his head to strike at her.

  Ardhuin raised her arm to block the blow, but the old man was amazingly quick—‌and strong. The staff struck her head hard enough to make her stumble, shattering in the process. It sounded strange in breaking, as if it were glass.

  Her eyes watering, she raised a hand to see if there was any blood where she had been hit. There was sharp grit in her hair, and a piece…‌a piece of silvery glass. Just then she felt her hair fall loose. It was annoying, because she couldn’t fix it without looking very odd to the others.

  “The illusion is dispersed!” Dominic yelled. Chryselectrum. His staff had chryselectrum. That must have been enough to weaken her illusion. Ardhuin cast everything she could that was quick and did not require much concentration to conceal herself, but it was too late. Bové was staring at her in horror, mouth agape.

  “But who…‌Madame Kermarec? How…?”

  Kungam was also staring at her in amazement, the first real emotion she could recall seeing him display. Oh, splendid. Time to disappear, I think.

  The gloire did not take much power, and dazzled the eye. She cast that and spun around, pulling the darkest concealing shadow she could manage, and ran. She was getting dangerously tired, but surely there was someplace she could hide in the damaged camp until it was time to leave or she was recovered enough to create another in–‌depth illusion? “Mr. Talbot” had been completely exposed now. Still, she could not appear as herself just yet either. How many people had seen her true appearance in that room?

  She rounded the large tent before the general’s quarters. The movement of fabric caught her eye—‌a flap? Was it an opening? The edges looked ragged. Someone had cut it. She heard voices approaching and darted inside.

  Stoller looked up from filling a knapsack, startled. In the dim light Ardhuin could just make out a dark figure seated on a bale and holding a rifle.

  “Gutrune?”

  “She’s gone to see about pack animals,” Markus said. He shifted and stood up. “Is there a problem?”

  I suppose you could call it that. “One of the general’s people hit me with chryselectrum. My illusion was dispersed with outsiders present. Bové recognized me. I need to stay out of sight until we can leave the camp and the bandits.”

  Markus snarled something in Preusan that earned him a raised eyebrow from Stoller. “You are sure? How did…‌never mind, the damage is done. I suppose you had best stay here for now. I’ll go find out how we can get you out. I doubt Bové wants to stay around Kungam any longer than he must.” He handed the rifle to Stoller and ducked out through the tent slit.

  Stoller propped the rifle against a wooden box and went back to work. Ardhuin saw he had already filled three other knapsacks, and went to help. It was always possible that they would have to make a run for it. What supplies did she absolutely need to take?

  As she was rummaging through her baggage Dominic came in, breathing fast, followed by Markus and Gutrune.

  “There’s a problem.” His face was grim. “Kungam is refusing to let us leave.”

  “What? Why?”

  Markus peered out of the slit, then back inside. “Bové is talking to him now, trying to find out. Sonam…‌ah, here he is.”

  In contrast to the others, Sonam did not appear apprehensive. He had more of an expression of wanting to be somewhere else, combined with dazed confusion.

  They huddled around him, voices hushed.

  “Why is Kungam angry?” Ardhuin asked. “Why won’t he let us go?”

  Sonam was looking down at his feet, his hands twisting around each other. “He is not…‌angry,” he managed to say. “Not after Mr. Bové convinced him he did not know you had hidden what you are. He wants…‌” he finally looked up, pleading, at Dominic. “He appears to believe she is a tingri—‌a powerful spirit. The one who struck you was the general’s shaman.” Sonam finally dared to look her in the eye. “He thinks this has angered you and made you abandon this place. He wishes to speak with you and appease you and asked Mr. Bové to call you back.” His weak smile raised Ardhuin’s suspicions.

  Markus had been continually checking outside, and now he gave a soft whistle. Ardhuin stared at him in shock, but then Bové himself entered the tent. He was shaking with some suppressed emotion, and when he saw her his eyes blazed with fury.

  “My people are hostages now, thanks to you. Do you realize your heedless, selfish actions could get us all killed? But no, you insisted on coming despite the danger. What possible reason could you have for doing this?”

  She clenched her fists, feeling the nails dig into her palms. He had a right to be angry—‌she had deceived him. There was no time for admitting fault. She needed to be angry too, to get him to understand. To help.

  “I did it because I had no choice. Because the safety of Aerope is at stake.” Bové snorted and looked at the others. What he saw must have puzzled him, for he did not immediately respond. “I concealed myself to shield you and the members of your expedition. Have you not noticed how we have been pursued and attacked? The unusual custom inspection? Mother Long sending us on our way with miraculous speed? The enemy I am hunting is very dangerous and suspects I am near.”

  “The government of Bretagne is involved,” Dominic said, quiet but intense. “You knew this from the beginning. Now you know why.”

  Gutrune shifted, pulling a slender piece of metal from her sleeve and laying it on a crate. Her illusion warped and faded, showing her
calm, austere true face. “The government of Preusa is also. This is not the first time we have fought this man. He is a dangerous mage, a relict of the Mage War. A Gaulan mage,” she added.

  Now Bové was looking worried. “But they were all executed…‌and that was decades ago!”

  “One escaped—‌and he was quite lively when he gave me this last year.” Markus touched the white streak in his hair. “Now, it is true our presence has made your life more difficult, but it is also true we have rescued you from the dangers we have brought.”

  Bové made a strangled noise deep in his throat. “And how do you intend to rescue us from this? And why you?” He stabbed a finger at Ardhuin. “What can you do against this old mage? At least Talbot could…‌” he faltered.

  “Ah, starting to figure it out, are you?” Markus raised an amused eyebrow. “I know it is a bit of a shock, and I really shouldn’t be telling you anything—‌but I will say this. Young Sonam is a magician of talent. I am a schutzmagus of the Preusan Imperial Court. Madame Kermarec could take us both on and the general’s camp. She was trying to keep a low profile, or we could have slept in.”

  Bové looked blindly around, then dropped to sit on a battered trunk. He looked haggard. “Right, then.” He seemed to be talking to himself, to give himself encouragement. “Here we are. It makes no sense, but we must make do. Kungam…‌” His eyes widened as if he had completely forgotten the bandit leader. “Damnation. Kungam seems to want some kind of alliance. That fire golem made a strong impression, and he still wants to capture the general, which won’t be easy. He saw powerful magic and he wants it for his own ends.”

  “We cannot take the time to assist Kungam with his personal vendetta,” Gutrune said calmly. “And I am sure he would find other tasks in need of magical assistance.”

  “Can we simply escape?” Dominic asked. “Although I suppose it would be difficult to take the supplies, which was the point of the exercise.”