Read A Dragon at Worlds' End Online
Authors: Christopher Rowley
"Gone!" he cried. New hope burgeoned, incredible hope.
The surgeons came forward and examined the wound. They backed away, astonished. "The spearhead is gone. The wound is deep, but it is empty."
"Use honey to dry it up," said Relkin.
"It is healing very rapidly on its own."
"It itches. Oh, it itches."
"Maybe, but it looks like we won't have to cut it off."
"Better to die. But something came. I think it was your friend. It was there for a long time. It not speak, but I knew it was there. Then this."
"I think it's going to be a force for good in the world. I wonder what it will be."
Later, Relkin went back into the pyramid and down into the catacombs where the ten thousand were stacked.
"I don't know if you can hear me, or if you'd care to listen. You may have more important things to do, but I want to thank you for saving my dragon. I woke you up, you saved my dragon. Good luck to you, whatever you are."
There was no response from the silent figures lying in their stone cots. But then, as Relkin was leaving, he felt a chill run through him and he sensed the presence he had felt before standing on the Game board. It was there now watching him somehow. It made no communication that he could understand, so he thanked it again and left.
The smoke cleared; the rubble lay where it fell. Days in the ruined city drifted into weeks. Bazil's leg healed swiftly, as did Relkin's arms, though his nose would never be quite the same again.
Slowly the chaos in the great city subsided and a new order obtained. A new population, formerly the outcast and excluded, had taken up residence in the surviving grand houses, the colleges, and the palaces. Working for them were the former slavers and elf lords. A few lords and ladies, including Lady Tschinn and Lord Rasion, had found posts as healers and administrators.
Of the former slaves and freebooters who made up this new ruling caste there were no Ardu. The Ardu folk all voted to return to their homeland and they began to leave at once in large parties, heading up the river to the Lands of Terror and the Plain of Three-Horns.
The former mercantile class, which had occupied the lower-status western end of the city, had survived more or less intact. They paid indemnities and gave bribes and soon regained their position as the city's link with the outside world. Caravans began again, although for a while insurance rates were going to be sky high.
Relkin acquired a stonemason's wagon and a team of six powerful horses. When the day came for the parting of ways, he and Bazil were set to join a caravan heading south for the coast. That same day Lumbee and another party of the Ardu were setting out to return to their homeland.
Lumbee and Relkin were able to go for one last walk together along the dusty south road just beyond the city gate. In the midst of the caravan, out of sight of the other Ardu, they enjoyed one last kiss.
"I am sorry to see you go, Lumbee."
"Relkin, we had our love together. It was a true love, but it was as if we lived alone, with no one to worry about. We are from different worlds. I could not live in your world. I would be the only tailed person. You must go back to your own land. You have people waiting for you there."
Relkin knew she was right, but his memories of the sweet time they had had on the river would always haunt him. It was hard to let go.
"I will never forget you, Lumbee."
"And I will not forget you, Relkin."
After a while they rejoined the rest of the Ardu and Relkin bade farewell to Ium and Wol, and big Norwul.
"We will keep the tribe strong," said Norwul. Relkin could sense that Norwul would be the first tribal chief of the Ardu. Norwul had learned an enormous amount about the world and had adjusted his thinking. At the same time he was physically one of the most imposing Ardu, six feet tall and solid muscle, a great warrior, and smart, too. Relkin thought it was a good combination for the job he could envisage a chief having to do.
Ium and Wol and Relkin all embraced. They had been hunting brothers, and Relkin knew that Ium and Wol would carry the ideas of the tribe with them for all their lives. If Norwul was chief, they would be among his top captains.
Lumbee and the others all made their final farewells with the dragon. The forest god was leaving, going to the outside world where he belonged. The Ardu had all come to respect the forest god's decisions, although they would miss his presence in their camps upon the Plain of Three-Horns.
"Farewell, Lumbee dragonfriend."
Lumbee could barely speak all of a sudden. "Lumbee try to be dragonboy. Not succeed."
The dragon shook his head. "Lumbee succeed. Dragon always remember Lumbee."
The time had come. Relkin climbed onto the driver's seat of the massive wagon. He lifted the reins and cracked the whip to get the team in motion. They were beautiful animals, well trained and used to hauling heavy weight. Bazil would get a thoroughly deserved free ride on this trip.
They left the Ardu singing one of their ancient songs as the caravan got under way and, with wagon wheels rolling, set off down the long south road.
Relkin had bought the wagon and team with some of the gold he'd found in the ruins of Mot Pulk's house. Twenty gold tabis, hidden in hollow bricks cemented into the wall. Fire had damaged the wall and cracked open one of the bricks. A golden gleam had caught Relkin's eye and he broke away some of the scorched brick, and out tumbled a golden tabi, a fat, sleek square of pure gold.
Now there were nineteen gold tabis sewn into the lining of Bazil's new vest, which went under the remains of the joboquin. Reduced to scraps of leather and a few intact belts, the joboquin would would have to be replaced entirely.
The south road was a torturous affair, winding back and forth in long loops as they climbed the pass through the mountain ranges that led to the narrow coastal plain. Throughout this part of the trip it rained, a constant cold drizzle that sorely tried Relkin's patience. Bazil was wrapped in a big cloak and stayed more or less dry as the wagon bounced along the rutted road.
The first mountain range was the Mindor Ath, a line of medium-sized peaks with trees growing up their flanks and just a little snow on their tips. The way here was hard, but not that bad. Then came the more serious task of crossing the high pass through the Ath Gahut, which were mighty mountains with long rocky ribs rising to snow-fields and glacier-clad shoulders. This part of the journey was very arduous and Bazil was forced to get out and walk on the worst stretches since the horses simply couldn't manage his weight and the wagon. The air grew thin and it was hard to draw a decent breath, while the cold seemed to bite through clothing to the bone. At last, though, they came over the top of the pass and looked out on a green plain and the distant ocean.
The descent was also hard going, with more slogging through slushy snow and stiff winds that drove ice into their pores, but after a week of hell they left the snow line and entered warmer air.
On the south side of the mountains they rolled through the pleasant south coastal lands: farmland in the dells and woods on the hills, with a well-maintained road and occasional coaching inns to stay at. Bazil was used to the gawping stares and stiff dragon freeze faces wherever he went. He would put up with a lot in exchange for good beer and a roof over his head when it rained all night.
Eventually they came down into the coastal town of Zund.
Relkin sold the team and the wagon, for not quite what he'd paid for it, and they sat in the Shore Inn stables for the next two weeks until a ship came in that was big enough to carry a two-ton dragon in reasonable comfort. Throughout this period it rained almost continually, which, they learned, was the usual pattern for this time of year.
The first reasonable vessel was a dull cog,
Helida
, a squat two-master, crewed by Samander Islanders who were fond of wearing bones pierced through their noses and ears. Relkin paid for the use of the entire vessel, to carry them around the southern capes and up to Sogosh. That was about as far into the western ocean as the Samanders would venture.
Relkin paid with a gold tabi, which sent unworthy thoughts through the minds of the Samander Islanders. Within an hour, though, he and Bazil went aboard and stowed themselves in the hold. Bazil would sleep at one end on a mound of straw and Relkin oversaw the construction of a bunk close by. The crew was disconcerted to a degree by this promptness, and some protested, but Relkin had already paid for the vessel and he had had extra supplies of food delivered, tons of noodles, plus ten casks of beer.
Helida
, indeed, was weighed down in the water with it all.
The islanders grumbled and plotted together as the cog caught the west wind and moved out onto the ocean. Then Bazil came up from the hold and sat in the waist with Ecator in one hand and a whetstone in the other. The dragon no longer limped; his wounds had completely healed. The sword was as cruel and hungry as ever. As the whetstone worked over the long, deadly slab of steel, the crewmen took note.
After Bazil had finished sharpening Ecator, he worked the blade briefly through a few exercises, constrained, of course, by the limits of the small ship. Still, it was enough. The crewmen buried their unworthy thoughts and the voyage was uneventful. On one occasion pirates had approached, but the Samanders had been unconcerned. The pirates had come up close so that a row of evil-looking faces could be seen grinning over the rail. Then Bazil stood up and drew Ecator and made a few more moves with the blade.
The pirates drew away. Their sail was soon well down on the horizon.
The Samanders were pleased with this outcome and their captain offered Bazil a lifetime job if he would sail with them.
Bazil was tempted. Any wyvern was tempted by the very smell of the sea, but in the end he was not tempted enough. He was heading back to the life he'd always known, with his friends and regular meals. He preferred it that way.
For his part, Relkin kept a sharp eye on the Samanders and kept them from ever discovering where the rest of the gold tabis were hidden.
The
Helida
caught the southwest trades after rounding the Cape of Winds and made a quick and uneventful voyage to Sogosh.
At Sogosh Bazil and Relkin were feted by the local governor. A message was received that ordered them to stay in Sogosh until the king himself, great Choulaput, could come down from the capital at Koubha to greet them. Once, Bazil and Relkin had saved the great king from assassins and he had never forgotten.
Another great festival was held when the king appeared. Choulaput gave them gold rings and gold chest-plates that hung around their necks on golden chains. Relkin had a special chest made to hold their newfound wealth. It was very stoutly constructed, with the best lock he could find in Sogosh. It was not very large, but it was already filling up. And when the local elite of Sogosh organized a subscription for the health of all the fighting dragons, Relkin took charge of that, too, two hundred pieces of gold coin, full doubloons. With these on top of the tabis and the rings and chestplates, the chest was full.
The Legion post in Sogosh had been reduced to just a couple of men, who worked out of the embassy of the Empire of the Rose, a modest two-story house on the edge of the commercial sector of the city.
Relkin and Bazil found a warm enough welcome there and a safe harbor for the chest of gold. Relkin had become just a little concerned now, since they were carrying with them a moderately huge fortune in gold. And apart from their own future, there was gold for all the dragons that had served in the Eigo campaign. Relkin felt the responsibility and was intensely concerned.
Choulaput stayed three days, and they dined with him every night. Even Bazil was feeling pretty stuffed after the final night of banqueting in the Bogoni mode.
The only problem was that the next ocean trader scheduled to visit was the
Oat
, which would be on her way back to the Argonath after visiting the Bakan coastal ports.
Oat
was expected in a month. On the other hand, the life in Sogosh was spectacularly comfortable. They had no duties, no war, no troubles at all. Every big family wanted to feed them and the local dark beer was really excellent. Both of them had quickly come to enjoy this wastrel life. Bazil was putting on weight. Even Relkin was filling out a little.
And then a week later a frigate, the
Lyre
, put in unexpectedly to Sogosh harbor.
Lyre
was on the return leg of a voyage to Kadein after mapping the far western shores of Eigo.
Captain Keperson sought them out at the embassy and offered them immediate passage to the Argonath city of Kadein.
Lyre's
carpenters set up a section of her hold for the dragon's stall and Relkin bunked there as well. The crew were honored to ferry the famous Broketail dragon back to the Argonath. Bazil and the dragonboy were quite sorry to see old Sogosh dwindle behind them.
Captain Keperson was out in time to catch the rest of the southwest trades and make a quick passage to the doldrums. There they were unlucky for a week or two, but then were caught in the fringes of a tropical storm, and that drove them north and right out of the doldrums in less than a week. From there they reached the Ourdhi Gulf on the last bits and pieces of the monsoon and they rounded the cape and beat up the Bright Sea and three weeks later were in the port of Kadein. Winter was coming in, but in Kadein the trees still had their leaves and the grapes were being harvested and pressed.
Once again there was a wild welcome for the famous Broketail dragon. Relkin took the opportunity to bank some of the gold. He took half the tabis and the gold coin subscription and placed them in an account at the Royal Landbank. The other tabis he kept sewn into a belt around Bazil's waist.
There was another great banquet and then they transhipped to an older, cargo vessel, the
Durable
, and sailed for Marneri at last. This voyage was marked by a nasty winter squall that made all the passengers seasick, except for the dragon, of course.