Vengewar

by Kevin J. Anderson

  Rondo growled close to Tafira’s ear, “Konag Mandan will know what to do with an Isharan captive.”

  Tafira tried to roll off the saddle, but he cuffed her so hard that her ears rang, and her vision faded to black.

  91

  KING Adan gripped the reins as the bay mare trotted onward, finding the way even at night. Though the group was exhausted, they took few breaks, and Adan had slept only a few hours in the two days since riding out from Bannriya Castle. Hom sagged forward, asleep in his saddle, though his brother Seenan remained alert, taking the lead while Captain Elcior rode beside the king.

  Overhead, Xar darted forward then swooped back, urging them to hurry. They knew from Penda’s note that the Utauk camp was near the northern border of Suderra, and Adan knew they must be close. His heart beat faster. Soon he would be with his wife, and they would hold their newborn child. He hoped he would be in time for the birth.

  The horses snorted, and he heard shouts ahead, an unexpected clamor of battle followed by a terrifying roar. Adan squeezed with his legs, urging the mare to greater speed. “Penda!” Already tired, the horse tried to shy away from the ominous sounds ahead.

  Captain Elcior drew his sword and pushed his mount forward, joining Seenan at the lead. “We should have brought a larger military escort, Sire!”

  Hunched over the saddle, Adan spoke through clenched teeth. “Right now I want speed, not numbers!”

  Under the light of a gibbous moon they topped a forested line of hills above a sheltered valley where they saw campfires and people swarming in panic.

  And a dragon.

  Xar trilled and shrieked, swooped past Adan, then streaked forward.

  Hom yelped, “Sire, the monster will kill us.”

  “Ride!” Adan shouted. He was glad to have the protection of his Banner guards, but he would have ridden forward even if he were alone. Penda was down there!

  The dark dragon flew above the camp, pounding huge wings. Adan could see its angular silhouette, the reptilian neck, the arrow-shaped head. His panicked mare tried to bolt, but he knew he needed to get down among the Utauks who were fighting the monster. The previous dragon hunt out in the Furnace had shown him that swords could do little against a monster like that, but this time their weapons were inlaid with shadowglass, thanks to Queen Voo. He hoped that would make them more deadly.

  As the dragon attacked the camp, Utauks either scattered for shelter or tried to defend their belongings and their people. They grabbed flaming brands from bonfires and fought using the makeshift torches. Utauks were not battle-hardened, ruthless warriors, but they were resourceful and determined.

  The dragon tore up several tents, and two men in bright clothing bolted forward, cracking long bullwhips. The braided strands snapped and slashed against the reptilian hide. One whip curled around and snagged the dragon’s clawed foot, but the beast pounded upward and tore the whip free, wrenching the man’s arm out of its socket. He dropped and rolled, cradling his limp arm as he bolted for the shadows of the trees. As the dragon turned to snap at him, the man’s companion snapped his own bullwhip, cracking it on the beast’s snout. The dragon roared, chomped at the whip, and the Utauk man dove under a sturdy wagon.

  Elcior and Seenan drew their reinforced military bows, which were more powerful than Utauk hunting bows. And their arrows were tipped with shadowglass.

  Adan pulled ahead of his companions, shouting, “Penda! Where are you?” His horse shied and stamped, seeing the dragon and smelling the reptile musk. Unable to control the mare, Adan swung down from the saddle, landed on his feet. He raised his sword. “Penda!”

  Xar flew up to him, clicking and whistling, and led him toward Penda.

  Out of the forested hills to his left, Adan heard rough snorts and loud shouts that were different from the Utauk sounds. He turned, ready to face another enemy, and to his astonishment he saw a group of augas racing toward the dragon as it circled around to attack the camp.

  The monster let out a hiss like steam from a covered kettle. Wreth warriors—sandwreths!—charged in to challenge the dragon. They hurled spears into the sky, piercing its armored chest. In pain, the beast spun in the air, worked its wings, and lashed its barbed tail.

  Adan kept following Xar, desperate to find his wife. He could not comprehend why wreths were here. Two of the golden warriors drove their augas toward the monster as it slammed into an Utauk wagon before turning to its new opponents. The dragon snapped one rider from his auga and crunched down. It spat out the pieces of the body, bowled the auga aside, and raked the second warrior with a clawed foot before it sprang into the air again.

  The rest of the sandwreths were not intimidated. One let out a foolhardy battle cry, and Adan recognized the wreth as Quo, Queen Voo’s brother.

  Xar circled in front of Adan’s face, snapping at him. The ska’s faceted eyes blazed bright. He followed the reptile bird to scattered blankets and cushions beside a collapsed tent marked with the crimson and black colors of the Orr tribe. He called out Penda’s name again.

  “My Starfall!” Her response made his heart leap. Penda and her father were moving into the trees. She tried to run, hunched over and hobbling. “My water broke. The spasms … I can’t move.”

  Hale Orr helped her along. “Cra, dragons eat newborn babies, you know.”

  “Dragons eat anything they can catch,” Penda said.

  Adan reached them and spun around, holding his sword up to drive away anything that threatened her, whether it be dragon or wreth. “To the trees! We can take shelter there.”

  Once they were in the thick of the forest beyond the camp, Penda collapsed against a thick oak. She slid down and wrapped her arms around her belly. “Our baby chose a very inconvenient time to arrive, Starfall.” She winced, and then smiled. “But your timing is perfect.”

  Xar fluttered in and landed on a branch just above her head. Adan stroked her dark hair.

  In the middle of the camp, the two Banner guards, still on horseback, shot more shadowglass-tipped arrows at the dragon. The sandwreths rode their augas around Elcior and Seenan, as if amused by their efforts.

  The dragon ripped up the large tent that belonged to old Shella din Orr, but no one was inside. Transfixed and terrified, young Hom ducked into a low supply tent, and the dragon tore the fabric away, exposing the boy. Hom darted for shelter, and the monster lunged after him as he crouched down, trying to hide under a stray blanket.

  Seenan galloped in. “Leave my brother alone!” He launched an arrow that plunged deep into the glowing eye. The dragon reared back, lashing out with huge claws, but Seenan dodged away.

  Now even more enraged, the beast attacked anything that moved, tearing at the wreth opponents as if the humans were mere distractions. As it swept past, one mounted warrior raised a spear, but the tail crushed both auga and sandwreth. On his own mount, Quo snarled at the massacre. Half of his war party had been killed already.

  Leaning back against her large oak, Penda groaned and clutched her knees. Adan wanted to help Captain Elcior and the Utauks, even the wreth warriors, but Penda clasped his arm. He knelt beside her. “I’m here. I’m here!”

  A sandwreth mage stalked toward the one-eyed dragon, extending her arms straight out at her sides. She summoned dust and fire and hurled it into the creature’s open mouth, which made the dragon hiss and choke. The mage struck again with a skirling whirlwind that hit the creature’s left wing. Two of the thin stabilizing bones snapped, and when the dragon lurched into the air, part of the wing flopped. The monster crashed to the ground again, falling on top of the standing mage and a nearby sandwreth warrior, crushing them both.

  The injured dragon thrashed as it struggled to get its feet under it. Quo drove his auga in, screaming, but he sounded less reckless and cocky now.

  The dragon spun and slammed Quo off the auga. He struck the ground with a sharp snap of breaking bones. Two wreth warriors ran to defend him, but the dragon tore them apart. Leaving the bodies on the ground, the mo
nster heaved itself into the air again, beating its huge wings above the camp, though it flew erratically, with one eye blinded and one wing damaged. Even so, it clearly intended to attack again.

  Suddenly, with a shrieking, buzzing sound, countless small shapes flew in across the dark sky. Hundreds of wild skas along with bonded Utauk pets flurried around the dragon, harassing it as it rose higher into the air.

  Under the shelter of the oak, Xar flapped his wings as if he wanted to join his fellow skas, but Penda held him. “Stay! You must stay with me.” The green ska made a strangled sound, turned his faceted eyes toward Penda as if she had betrayed him, but she would not let go.

  The countless reptile birds were like sparrows harrying a large crow, driving it away. Their clamor was tremendous, drowning out even the tumult in the camp.

  “The dragon’s going away!” Adan said.

  Xar continued trying to break free, but Penda held on, desperate not to lose him.

  The wounded dragon flew erratically into the night, and the skas swarmed it, pecking, attacking. Soon they were all only silhouettes against the starlight. As Adan stared at the shapes, it seemed as if the skas drew closer and closer, like bees circling a hive, until they were absorbed into the giant reptile, but he couldn’t be sure what he saw in the darkness and distance.

  Then the dragon was gone, flying far from the Utauk camp.

  Adan had just a moment of relief before Penda let out a sharp cry of pain, and he knew it was time for the baby.

  92

  THE harbor godling protected the waterfront, the ships and sailors, the fish markets, the docks, and all of the harbor businesses. Klovus had once served the harbor godling as he rose through the ranks of the priesthood, and he had borrowed this godling when he sailed off to destroy the fishing town of Mirrabay.

  Now, when Ur-Priest Xion summoned the harbor godling, Klovus felt a surge of hope. Perhaps the other entity would be strong enough to block the wild chaos of the Serepol godling.

  Or perhaps not.

  The harbor was in turmoil. Aboard the warships tied up to the docks, sailors and soldiers were unable to escape unless they dove overboard. Along the waterfront, people ran in all directions as the Serepol godling lurched toward the markets and boathouses. Finding three more barbarians who tried to flee, it snatched them up with a fluid tentacle arm and hurled their broken bodies into the swirling force of the harbor godling that rose up to meet it.

  The two deities roiled and surged. Enhanced by the sacrifices that had just been poured into it, the Magnifica godling loomed over its rival. Ur-Priest Xion stood close as debris flew all about him, but he was just a tiny form. The winds roared and lightning bursts struck as the godlings faced each other.

  Xion tried to direct his deity to wrestle the rampaging godling into submission. Klovus ran toward him with outstretched arms, trying to control his own entity. The two forces slammed into each other with a thunderclap, sending a shock wave through the air.

  The key priestlord clawed outward with his thoughts. “Come back, damn you!”

  But the godling would not listen.

  * * *

  Escaping, the crew of the Glissand ran into the streets while the fighting godlings destroyed part of the waterfront.

  Most people had fled, although some crouched in doorways or watched the titanic struggle from high windows. No one tried to stop the running Utauks, though. At the long docks, crews stood on the decks of the ready warships, shading their eyes. At any moment, the embattled godlings could crash into the water and capsize countless vessels in the harbor.

  “Faster!” Mak Dur hissed, and the Utauks raced out along the far pier where the Glissand was tied up. Sailors aboard adjacent vessels shouted at them, but they were warnings, not curses. Mak Dur ignored them. His crew rushed aboard the ship, the first sailors already pulling up ropes even before their comrades scrambled onto the deck.

  After untying the ropes from the docks, the sailors used poles to push the Glissand away, and when it drifted free, six of the men unshipped the long maneuvering oars and began to guide the graceful vessel away from the docks and toward the open harbor. Two men climbed the mast, releasing the sails from the yardarms.

  “We’d better catch a breeze fast, Voyagier!”

  The two godlings tore at each other with smoke, wind, lightning. Mak Dur looked at them in awe, then turned back to the business of escaping. This would be their only chance.

  * * *

  Like opposing black clouds, the godlings tore at each other, grappling for dominance. Skittering arcs of electricity and flashes of primitive flame surged out, and Klovus experienced each blow as if his own body had been struck. He felt both the harbor godling and his own deity, as if he himself were being torn apart.

  The godlings flowed back and forth, exploding, surging. Together, they slammed into a boathouse and upended the fishing boats stored inside. Klovus cringed and ducked as shards of wood like sharpened stakes flew toward him.

  Ur-Priest Xion screamed, wept, held up his hands. The harbor godling continued to fight, but the Serepol godling was stronger. Even as Klovus tried to take hold of his entity, it ripped away one of its rival’s thundercloud tendrils. When the incorporeal piece broke off from the main body, the fragment dissipated, diminishing the harbor godling.

  Embattled, the smaller godling stretched itself, and the central mass focused into hundreds of screaming, angry faces with open mouths that tore at the Magnifica godling, which responded with even more manifested figures, symbols of primitive anger—wolves, bears, dragons.

  The harbor godling transformed into a motley collection of sharks, huge squid tentacles, enormous whales, but the Serepol godling continued to grow stronger, feeding on the fear and damage it had caused.

  Klovus could feel both godlings within him, struggling … and he sensed the exact point at which the harbor deity knew it was defeated. The Serepol godling engulfed its opponent, swarmed around it, pressing in, tearing, devouring. Ur-Priest Xion fought with every shred of energy he possessed, but Klovus could see the despair growing on his long face.

  The Magnifica godling crushed and absorbed the last remnants of the other entity, taking the essence into itself. Klovus felt the second godling die, while the stronger one became wilder than ever.

  In front of the harbor temple, Ur-Priest Xion collapsed onto the street, motionless, as his very soul was drained out of him.

  * * *

  The Utauk sailors moved faster than naval crews normally would. The men rowed until they thought their hearts and muscles would burst, and in a matter of minutes the Glissand pulled away from the last docks and set sail.

  As they cleared the other ships, Mak Dur heard Isharan crews shouting at them as they realized the Utauk ship was escaping. He squeezed his fist and looked up at the circle painted on the billowing mainsail. Now more than ever he needed Utauk luck to work in his favor.

  Even though several Isharan warships set up an alarm about the fleeing ship, the embattled godlings had thrown the city guard into complete chaos. One of the entities defeated and absorbed the other, and now the victor rose as tall as an ominous thunderhead.

  The navigator worked the rudder; the sailors pulled the ropes. Every person knew every task. Mak Dur was the voyagier, but right now he had little to do but hope. He felt a breeze on his face, enough to stretch the sails, and he began to weep.

  One Isharan warship set sail and started moving out after them, but by now the Glissand had reached the mouth of the harbor, leaving behind the burning wreckage on the waterfront. Unless the pursuing vessel had a priestlord aboard who could summon favorable winds—which he very much doubted—his ship would gain an insurmountable lead out on the open sea.

  “That’s all right.” He drew a circle over his chest. “No one can catch the Glissand.”

  They sailed beyond the harbor, leaving the devastation of Serepol behind them.

  93

  THE pit beneath the wreth city whispered of terrors and
the impossible weight of age, but Shadri was not afraid. Standing in the darkness, she looked around with wide eyes, seeing only black, but her imagination filled in details. Her ears were attuned to any rustle or draft that moved through the subterranean chambers.

  From outside, she heard faint battle cries, the sounds of bloodthirsty combat. “Thon, are you still up there?” Her shout echoed, sounding as loud as an explosion, and she cringed at the noise. She didn’t dare call out again. What if one of the marauders found the rope and cut it, leaving her stranded down here?

  Shadri braced herself, found solid footing on crumbling blocks beneath the collapsed ceiling. The original wreths must have built underground tunnels, perhaps an entire warren of storage chambers and secret places.

  She looked up through the opening at the deceptively peaceful starfield. She heard horse hooves, the jingle of armor, boastful threats in deep voices. At first she feared for Thon, then she allowed herself a small smile, remembering what he could do. Rather, she feared for the attacking soldiers.

  Now that she was beneath the intriguing sinkhole, she needed to explore her surroundings. She ducked her head and extended a hand to feel her way along. She didn’t know the size or extent of the underground vaults, but she sensed power here, sleeping beneath the ruins. Long ago, this city had been filled with thousands of wreths, working their magic, hurling their anger and prejudice. They had created powerful armies and inconceivable weapons.

  Shadri ran her palms along the cool stone, feeling lines and curves of spiral designs in ascending messages. The blackness was like a living thing around her.

  When she had gone far enough that the marauders would not see her light shining up from below, Shadri fumbled in her pocket, found the candle and the sulfur matches she had taken from her pack. She struck a match against the stone wall, and a small flame hissed out, startling the shadows. She touched the flame to the wick, and her candle caught, flickered, then grew strong. The orange pool of candlelight did not extend far into the deep, deep darkness, but she could see her way.