Heir of the Dragon

by Anna Logan

  The object of her observation, however, didn’t stir in the least. A camp of a thousand men, but it was as quiet and motionless as the tree she was perched in.

  Still, she, Skyve, Rikky, and Terindi dutifully kept watch all through the night. Talea had the last shift this time. It was the easiest, but it still dragged on and on. She was wide awake, energized for the day, while everything and everyone else was still asleep. Except the sun. It had risen to join her, bathing everything in soft light and offering a little warmth. Not enough to compete with the chill of a late autumn morning. It would be an hour or two yet before the frost melted from the grass.

  After awhile, she heard quiet footsteps from the camp and turned to see Rikky approaching. Having been the one without a watch that night, he must have woken early—there was still another hour before they usually woke. “Morning,” he whispered, climbing into the tree and finding a limb suitable for sitting. “Anything exciting?”

  “So much.” She rolled her eyes. He knew perfectly well that there would be nothing exciting to report from the two hours she’d been watching the military camp.

  He nodded, surveying the numerous tents. Their look-out tree was only a couple stone’s throws away from the nearest.

  They sat without talking. It was better to make as little noise as possible, even whispering, but she wasn’t sure if they would have talked anyway. Morning seemed like the time for reflection and silent companionship.

  When the soldiers began waking and moving about, they left stealthily and returned to their own camp. Half an hour later, Rikky crept away to check on the soldiers’ status, and returned to report that they were moving. Only then did he and Talea wake up Skyve and Terindi, have breakfast, and clean up their camp. There would be an easy trail to follow; better to stay at a distance.

  The day passed much the same as the last three had—following the trail the Kaydorian army left behind.

  If only it could always be that way. They had been back in Zentyre for almost two weeks and hadn’t had to do any fighting. It wouldn’t last—they were following the army in the hope of finding another military base. During their time in Calcaria, based on their observations and those of the San Quawr scouts and Elikwai, they’d decided that Kaydor must have a second military base, aside from Aydimor. While Wylan’s team and the Elikwai were clearing cities and trying to keep Kaydor’s attention, her team and the Wardens were scouring the region separately for the second base. It would have been the Wardens and some Elikwai on the task instead of them, since the wards were more effective for combat, but Yhkon had wanted to give her a few extra weeks to recover.

  So, they’d arrived at Aydimor, waited until they saw an army moving out, and followed. They could only hope that the army was actually going to the second base.

  It was peaceful compared to the two months they’d spent in Zentyre last time. No fighting, no strategizing, and the farther they got from Aydimor the less danger there was.

  She’d been trying to use all the quiet riding time to mull her conversation with Mahzin...with little success. All she could conclude from everything he’d said was that this war, that she hated and wanted nothing to do with simply because of the killing involved, wasn’t even worth the sacrifice. They weren’t saving the San Quawr. They weren’t making Zentyre into a better region. They were fighting a cruel king...yet also a good one, who was improving the region in ways they probably never could.

  And that meant that the hundreds that she had already killed...had been for a false cause.

  Dwelling on that thought only caused her trouble. Terindi often had to wake her from nightmares, even Skyve or Rikky sometimes heard from their tent and later asked if she was okay. Not that she was the only one—the only person she hadn’t heard wake up from a distressing dream was Rikky. She just seemed to have the most.

  So she tried to take Mahzin’s advice. She tried to find her own cause. All she could come up with was that the war was happening whether she liked it or not, and maybe by participating she could keep the number of San Quawr deaths down. But that meant increasing the number of Kaydorian deaths.

  Eventually, she’d have to stop thinking about it, before she drove herself to tears. Or insane.

  All she could do was wait for it to come by itself, this ability to make peace with the fighting that Mahzin seemed to think she would find. And hope that it came before she had to fight again.

  After following the army for twelve days, their patience was rewarded.

  The base.

  They lay in the grass on a small cliff that overlooked it, their celiths left a short distance off. It was no wonder their scouts had never found the place—it was deep into the Obsidian Woods of south-western Zentyre, where few lived because of the wet, dark ecosystem that didn’t allow for the livestock or crops a civilization needed to thrive, and the difficult terrain made travel dangerous. The Kaydorians, however, had found a route that was doable, even for their large armies.

  “Smart.” Skyve was nodding slowly as he surveyed the base. “An attack on that wouldn’t be easy.”

  She didn’t need to have his knack for strategy to see that. The base was hemmed in by two mountains and a lake. An attacking force would have to travel two abreast over the side of one of the mountains. The Kaydorians had used explosives to blast a large tunnel through it instead, giving their soldiers easy and hidden access.

  “Well,” she flattened a piece of grass that was tickling her nose, “I guess we let Yhkon know what we found, for starters. Let’s go back before someone spots us.”

  They crept away and returned to their celiths. It was already almost nightfall, so they camped a few miles from the base. The next day they rode out of the Obsidian Woods to find a messenger, knowing they’d be unlikely to find one inside. Skyve had made a rough map of the Kaydorian’s route over the twelve day journey, so they would be able to find their way back. After the message was sent to the Wardens, they returned to the base to wait.

  ~♦~

  I hate mountains.

  Talea stopped, bent with her hands on her thighs, to catch her breath. Going behind the base and hiking high enough to see if there were any back entrances had seemed like a good idea, until they’d started climbing. Celiths didn’t have the sure-footing necessary and would be more likely to draw attention.

  So climbing it was.

  “Come on, Aysa!” Rikky’s teasing smile was insult to injury—he didn’t look out of breath in the least.

  “You,” she caught up enough to poke his shoulder, “are just like Yhkon. Unacceptably,” she had to stop for another breath, “fit.”

  Whenever she’d said something similar to Yhkon, he would usually offer some practical comment on how he had a biological advantage and had been training since he was ten years old. Rikky, on the other hand, grinned and struck a pose. “Comes with the good looks.”

  Now she gave him a shove as she passed him. “And just like Tarol.”

  “How about this.” She heard him catching up to her, and then he was picking her up and suddenly she was on his shoulders, the way her father had carried her as a toddler.

  “Rikky! Put me—”

  “Good grief!” Skyve spun on his heel to glare at them, rolling his eyes when he saw what was going on. “Does the concept don’t want to be heard or seen ring a bell?”

  “Such a bubble popper! Alright Talea,” Rikky lowered his voice to a whisper, “we mustn’t make a sound. The Kaydorians are over two miles away but they might hear!”

  She had to muffle a laugh at Skyve’s look of utter annoyance. “You both disgust me,” he said as he turned back and kept walking. Skyve only said such things to people he actually liked.

  A break from the walking wasn’t so bad, and Rikky seemed happy with the arrangement, so she just feigned resignation and let him carry her awhile. Rikky started a quiet conversation. “Has anyone ever flirted with Skyve that you’ve seen?”

  Talea muffled another laugh. “Mmm...I don’t know. I do
n’t think any girl is allowed to spend more than three seconds within ten feet of him if he doesn’t know her, and if he does know her, she probably knows better than to try.”

  “True. I was just thinking it might be entertaining to see.”

  It was nice to talk about something that didn’t involve the war. To laugh. So she kept it going. “Besides, they’re all too busy flirting with you.”

  “Well naturally.” She could barely see his grin from her angle. “But you know...there’s really only one I’m interested in.”

  She gulped. That was an unexpected lunge from fun—if a little flirtatious—banter to...that. Heat flared in her chest and her cheeks. Wylan came to her mind...she pushed him out. He’d made his feelings, or lack thereof, clear. “I see...well, maybe she...feels the same way. Maybe.”

  Rikky crouched so she could get back on her own feet, and looked at her. His eyes were hopeful. “Maybe?”

  Her heart was racing to the point that she wondered if he could hear it. “Quite possibly.”

  He opened his mouth as if to say something else, hesitated, and just smiled instead. They kept walking, side by side...unbearably awkward but sweet and thrilling and she didn’t even care that they were climbing up a mountain.

  Some underbrush rustled somewhere nearby and she dimly wondered if there were zorcs in these mountains.

  And then something heavy hit her. She fell, at the same time realizing it was rope—why was it heavy? Rikky was under it too, they were both in a heap. Rope was everywhere. She grabbed some and tried to lift, looking for an end. The corners were weighted. It was a net.

  She was about to burn through it when a man appeared over them and hit her, hard, with his shield. The dull pain dazed her. Before she regained her senses, hands were grabbing her, wrapping the net tighter and pulling Talea to her feet. “Rikky! Rikky!” Where was he?!

  She heard his savage cursing a few feet away, as he struggled. More effectively than her—she caught glimpses through the net of several men all trying to subdue him.

  Dark uniforms. Leather armor. Helmets like a dragon’s head.

  Maybe Skyve and Terindi had gotten away. She couldn’t see them.

  The men grabbed her hands. She exerted energy to make a burst of sparks...nothing. They had wrapped her hands in leather. As she began kicking and writhing, one of the warriors simply wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off her feet, while another tied her ankles together.

  Frustration and panic made her clench her teeth against a scream.

  Finally, they must have thought her sufficiently bound, because they pushed her to her knees. Her wrists were tied, hands wrapped in leather, ankles tied, there was still a net entangling her, and they’d even gagged her. Otherwise she would have screamed. Rikky was in the same predicament, though they’d used more rope to bind him.

  Satisfied with their work, the men stepped back, while another stepped forward. There were two curved cutlasses on his belt. Fear strangled her indignation. It was one of those cutlasses that had left a gruesome scar down her back. The man considered her a moment, then carefully pulled the gag from her mouth. To her surprise, he removed his helmet.

  The face underneath was young, probably not much older than she was. He looked Zentyren, except for the curly black hair. His blue eyes were bright and he was...smiling. Not smugly, not cruelly. Just smiling. “Hello. Sorry for the rough treatment, we didn’t want to be charred, you see. What’s your name?”

  If it had been Kaydor or Dejer asking her the question, she would have spat at him. This man’s kind face made it hard to be so hostile. “I’m not telling you.”

  “What if I told you my name, would that help?”

  “No.”

  Rikky was still gagged, or she knew he would have said something far more aggressive.

  The man sighed. “You know how this goes. I’d like to get your name on peaceful terms...the people who will try after me will happily take it on violent terms.”

  Fine, what was the harm in a name? “Talea.”

  “That’s a start!” He brightened. “Pleasure to meet you, Talea. My name is Zoper Veserron, nephew to the king, and captain of the Tarragon.”

  Nephew to the king, captain of the Tarragon. Well, two could play that game. “Fine then. I’m Talereinna Gen Andul, Leader of the Eight, and Captain of—” she bit her tongue against saying Calcaria, “—the San Quawr.”

  “Ah, I believe I am outranked!” Smiling happily all the while, he gave a bow. “And your friend’s name? I would let him answer for himself...except he seems to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Or perhaps not a bed at all. Sleeping on the ground can do that to a person, I do understand.”

  His friendly nonchalance was baffling. “Uh...Rikky. And maybe he’s angry because you—”

  “Oh, please let’s not get into all that.” Zoper winced. “Such misery, those sorts of matters. Instead, let’s—”

  He was cut off by a lightning bolt.

  Zoper was unscathed, but the two men holding Talea collapsed, convulsing from the shock. Zoper was smarter than to try and take their place, instead taking his shield from his back as Terindi ran up to cut the ropes and leather restraining Talea. Skyve was engaged with the Tarragon holding Rikky. Terindi was already going to free Rikky next, leaving Talea to deal with Zoper, and the additional warriors flooding in to support him. He stood ready for an attack, his shield in one hand, a cutlass in the other.

  She didn’t want to fight him. And she couldn’t kill any of them.

  Talea withdrew electricity and sent it in their direction in various forms—a horizontal wave, a few bolts, some bursts of sparks, and two beams that closed on them like scissors. With their armor and shields, some of them—including Zoper—still managed to avoid all of it. The rest fell. None were dead. She hadn’t used enough voltage for that.

  Those fighting Rikky, Skyve, and Terindi disengaged. Zoper peeked out from behind his shield, wary of another onslaught. Dread etched his features as he glanced over his shoulder at the two dozen motionless bodies.

  She lowered her hands. “They’ll be fine. Don’t come after us again, or they won’t stay that way.”

  He relaxed, and nodded to her. “Thank you. But...I’m afraid you’ll be seeing me again, against both of our wishes.”

  That was the point where she should have renewed the fight. They could have won. The Tarragon numbered at about thirty, but even with their exceptional skill, she knew that the four of them would have come out on top. It might be the last opportunity they would have. This was only a small portion of the Tarragon force. Next time it would be all of them, and they would have learned from their mistakes.

  But she couldn’t.

  “Come on.” She began walking away and motioned for the other wards to follow her.

  Rikky caught her arm. “We should—”

  “Please.” She took his hand and gave him a pleading look. “Let’s go.”

  Like she knew he would, he nodded despite his obvious disagreement. As they jogged away, she caught Skyve looking at her, with understanding. Not sympathetic or congruent understanding. Rather the realization that his leader, the captain of their entire army, had lost the will to fight.

  They made it back to their celiths without further disruption. Scouting the back of the base, if they did it at all, would have to wait. They rode ten miles out before making camp, in case the Tarragon were planning a quick comeback.

  No one spoke.

  Talea refused to let herself think. Because as soon as she did, it was impossible to stop: she had failed. By letting the Tarragon go when she knew they would be back, she was endangering their mission, even their lives. And she’d failed because she couldn’t kill anyone, because she couldn’t keep fighting for this cause...because she didn’t believe in it anymore. She didn’t believe in any of the things that were supposed to be her driving motivations. And she didn’t have either of the two people that she’d considered her anchors, who picked
her up when she fell down.

  Once they picked a spot to camp, she waited until Skyve and Terindi were both somewhat busy pitching a tent, and went to Rikky and hugged him.

  He held her tightly, his strong arms exactly what she’d needed. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

  Wylan wouldn’t have asked if she were hurt. He would have known what was wrong and why she needed the embrace. But Wylan wasn’t there, and even if he were, things had changed. Rikky was there. She shook her head against his chest. “No. I’m just...I don’t know.”

  “Okay,” was all he said. No doubt he had little idea what she was feeling or why. He didn’t have Skyve’s insight to see the real reason she’d let the Tarragon go, but at least he was willing to be there for her even if he didn’t understand. That was good enough.

  13

  Ties

  A LRIGHT, wake ‘em up, boys.”

  Talea heard the voice, muffled and distorted in her waking mind, just before something yanking her out of bed woke her fully. “What—” Was it Rikky? As the hands threw her onto her knees, her mind finally registered reality..

  Tarragon.

  She twisted her wrist, blindly throwing a small orb at the attacker behind her. It missed. The second one hit, and the man groaned, his grip loosening. It was enough for her to get one arm free, while two more attackers held her other arm and were trying to pin her legs. No matter—she only needed one hand. She sprayed them with a light burst, aiming for their stomachs and arms where their armor was limited. Both staggered back. She was out of the tent before they could grab her again.

  Their campsite was flooded with the dragon warriors. Holding Terindi, who had been on the last watch, was Zoper, recognizable with his helmet off.

  How the Tarragon had gotten the jump on Terindi and kept her from yelling an alarm, she didn’t know. That didn’t matter now. Talea created a wave—too weak to kill anyone—that went in all directions except to Terindi and Zoper, or the tent that Rikky and Skyve must have still been fighting in.