A Dragon Born (21 page)

"Is there something you need?" Aaron asked.

"I am Tash," the boy said. "The man there, he said you might want a door keeper."

"A door keeper?"

"Yes. You have things. They will need keeping safe. I will keep the door for one copper."

Aaron laughed. He was starting to get the impression that there was always an extra copper to be spent at Ba'shan. He reached under his robe and pulled out a copper coin and held it out to the boy.

"For as many days as fingers," Aaron told him. "You keep watch."

"Yes good sir," the boy said as he snatched the coin from Aaron's fingers. He ran over to the rail that overlooked the inner courtyard and he grinned at the innkeeper. A moment later, the boy ran along the balcony and dragged a small, wooden bench over to the wall next to the door to the room and then sat down. "I will be here. If you need things I can get them for you..."

"For a copper, right?" Aaron asked. The boy grinned and Aaron went back inside the room.

He walked over to the open window on the far side of the room and looked out over the city of Ba'shan. The room was high enough that it allowed him to see most of the city, which continued some distance further inland and, at the edge of the city, he saw what looked like a large palace that loomed above the smaller buildings below. Aaron rubbed his eyes, wondering if they were playing tricks on him, for it appeared that the palace was not only larger than the others in the city, but many times larger, so much so that the other buildings, which looked to be of a similar size to the one he was in, were dwarfed by it. Beyond the enormous structure that also swept in either direction, Aaron could see the sands of the desert stretching out to the horizon, and it was as though the sands were held back by the palace, which protected the city from the unforgiving sea of sand.

"Tash," Aaron called. A moment later, the boy opened the door.

"Yes, good sir."

"What is that large building at the edge of the city?"

"That is the warrior palace," he said.

"It looks like a big place, like it is larger than the other places."

"Oh yes, it is very big. A giant place it is," Tash told him.

"Does anyone live there, like a king or a lord?"

"No," Tash said. "There are no kings or lords."

"What is it for then?" Aaron asked. "That place must be used for something."

"Oh yes. It is the warrior palace," Tash told him again. "Many great fights there. Are you a warrior? Will you try to become king of the warriors? Those are the only kings. Champions."

"What about Forsina," Aaron asked. "I thought the circles were where the warriors fought."

"Forsina?" Tash wrinkled his nose, thinking for a moment, then he smiled. "Yes, the circles of the west. Many fighters there too, but they come to Ba'shan to the warrior palace for true Ansari battles."

"I did not know that," Aaron admitted.

"You do not know Ansari?"

"I am learning," Aaron told him.

"It is wise to know Ansari."

"What are their numbers?" Cerric asked, looking over the map that was spread out over the table in the command pavilion. He glanced up at his generals, the Lords Mirdel, Barant and the commoner, Nathas.

"The scouts estimate twelve thousand foot and two thousand horse, your highness," Nathas told him. "A force of another thousand fighters is within a half day's march of the city and one of the mages sent word of several hundred horse riding in from the west."

"That is all?" Cerric was surprised at how few the Kandaran numbers were.

"We outnumber them by many times," Nathas said. "However, the walls of Kandara are thick and it may take some time before we can break them."

"Bah," Cerric said. "The walls will be down within a day once we begin the attack. We will take Kandara with ease."

Duke Mirdel glanced at Nathas, remembering the bet between the two of them and Lord Kaleb, then he turned as Calexis entered the pavilion, her voluptuous figure gliding across the floor. She took a seat on a nearby divan and a servant brought her a cup of wine.

"Don't mind me, good lords," Calexis said. "Please, carry on."

Cerric stared at his queen lustfully. Every time he moved, he could still feel the cuts across his back from where her claws had dug into him when they had enjoyed a few moments together this morning and he looked forward to taking her atop the Kandaran king's bed.

"I noticed your son, Draxis, constructing something at the smithy," Cerric said.

Calexis was pleased to hear him acknowledge Draxis and she hoped her husband might be warming to her young, half-Darga prince.

"Yes, he is fashioning weapons he believes will be useful against this Duke Boric, if he shows himself again."

"I have met Duke Boric," Nathas said. "He is an exceptionally strong man, but neither I nor anyone in Maramyr had any idea that he was some kind of creature."

"The Kandaran line has hidden its secrets well but, in truth, they are much like the Darga, though they are too proud to admit their relation," Cerric said, not knowing how he knew the things he knew but he realized it must be the knowledge of the god. "It will be justice to see them rent to pieces by their own kind, who they have long despised."

"Prince Draxis looks forward to doing just that," Calexis told him. "He also hopes to win your admiration."

"Good," Cerric said. "I would that every soldier and mage were motivated to please me, for that is the true order of things. Now tell me, my Generals, when will our forces be in position?"

"We are a half day's ride and a full day's march from the city walls, my lord," Berant said. "The passes to the east are closed and guarded. The mountains to the north are impassable and we have several divisions moving west to close off those routes as well. The Kandarans are effectively trapped. We can begin moving toward the city on the morrow and begin the siege the following day."

"Very good," Cerric said, then he turned to Nathas. "Captain General, you and Brigade General Kaleb will lead the forward troops against any the Kandarans put to field. Twenty thousand foot and three thousand horse should suffice. I expect to see great things from you in this battle. Draxis and his Darga also wish to distinguish themselves in this battle, so they will accompany you. The remaining forces will be under the command of Lord Generals Mirdel and Berant. I expect you to coordinate the siege engines and the mages, to bring down the walls of Kandara once their soldiers have been defeated. Make whatever preparations are necessary. Now, I have not yet decided when the attack will begin, but we will move to the Kandaran city on the morrow so they may witness the glory of our armies. You are dismissed."

"Yes, your highness," Nathas said, and Mirdel and Barant echoed him.

Nathas glanced back as he followed the two lords out of the pavilion and saw Calexis hand Cerric a cup of wine. Despite what so many of the stories told, he knew it was seldom the kings who led the battles, but so often they would walk onto the bloodied fields, after the soldiers had died, and claim their victories. Mirdel said he was fatigued from the trip and he made for his own pavilion to rest up for the coming battle, though Nathas wondered if that might include a bottle or two of wine. Berant, who at least made some effort to fulfil his duties, which Nathas appreciated as a soldier, went off to inspect the construction of the siege engines, which had begun now that the forests had given way to open fields. Nathas continued through the encampment and saw clouds of black smoke rising from the area where the smiths had set up their forges, making weapons and other implements in preparation of the coming battle. He walked toward the smoke and found a strange looking young man, working with the smiths and several mages, who were adding their fire to the forges. They appeared to be forging long, thick, iron chains attached to large metal spears with barbed hooks protruding from them.

"Prince Draxis," Nathas said as he approached. "I see you are busy at work."

"You are Nathas, yes?" Draxis said, his serpentine voice rasping from behind his pointed teeth.

"Yes," Nathas said. "I am the Captain General of the Army. King Cerric has just confirmed that both you and Lord Kaleb will be part of the primary attack upon the Kandarans. He has commanded that I will lead the battle, personally."

"That is foolish," Draxis said. "The mages have not said it, but I can tell from their words that you are the better commander of the three Generals. Kaleb is also regarded as an able commander. Why would Cerric put you at the front?"

"Perhaps he wishes to show the Kandarans how superior the Xallan and Maramyrian forces are."

"The Kandarans are able fighters," Draxis said, "but they are no match for my Darga. You would be wise to let my warriors kill them."

"If I were wise, I would have become a fisherman or a shoe maker," Nathas said.

"I do not understand what you mean by such a thing," Draxis said. "It matters not. Cerric is a fool to put weak soldiers and good commanders in the battlefront for the Kandarans and their Duke to cut. You would be wise to avoid the Kandaran Duke."

"Are you making these weapons with him in mind?" Nathas asked.

"Yes. Boric is like a Darga, but many times larger and very strong. He will kill many Darga and many warriors and soldiers with his axe if he is not stopped."

"I am glad to see you thinking of the lives of your warriors and the soldiers," Nathas said.

"The warriors dream of returning to their homeland. This is that land, and they wish to become what they once were, great and powerful. I understand their desire for power, for I too desire it. The soldiers seek justice against the Kandarans who think they are better, who live on stolen land and come down from the mountains to ravage their people. I will give them this justice as their lord and commander and they will give me their loyalty and I will command them in many battles to come."

"I see." Nathas scratched the stubble on his cheek. For a moment he thought Draxis cared for the welfare of those he commanded, but it seemed the only thing that mattered to the young half-Darga was winning his own glory. His concern for the lives of the Darga and the soldier was clearly limited only to their usefulness in battle, but just to be sure, Nathas decided to push the question a little more. "I hope we will defend one another on the battlefield and find victory together."

"Victory is a word that pleases me," Draxis said with a toothy smile.

"Carry on, then. We move tomorrow at first light," Nathas told him, then walked away, knowing that even though Draxis and his Darga would be on the field with them and tens of thousands more soldiers were at their back, he and Kaleb, along with the men and women who would fight along side them, would be alone on the field, in an unjust battle, attacking a people who were defending their families and their home. Nathas felt his stomach turn and, for the first time in his long career, he truly regretted becoming a soldier.

*****

Boric walked down the wide, stone staircase into the vaulted underground chamber underneath the palace. Light streamed in from an opening at the far end of the cavern that he knew led to a rift among the rocky crags that rose up behind the palace. In the center of the cavern he saw his brother, Eric, the King of Kandara, sitting cross-legged on the dusty ground, with a golden circlet sitting crooked upon his head and his robes stretched out around him. Other than the crown and his wild, white beard and hair, he looked like he did when the two of them were boys, which seemed like so very long ago.

"Eric," he called and his voice echoed in the cavern. The old king turned his head.

"Boric," he said with a smile. "Come to visit an old man, have ye?"

"You're barely older than I am," he replied, "though you've become an old man."

"It's the heart that grows old, brother," Eric said, then he held up his gnarled hands and looked at them. "This is but a shell."

"How long will you grieve? How many years has it been?"

"Six, by the count of the people, though it seems an eternity."

"Six years. That is how long your boys have been without a father, and this land without a king. I have done what I can to guide them, but I am not you."

"You should have been king, Boric. You're much more kingly than I am. You always were."

"That power was never mine. You wear the crown, and you took the oath."

"A crown is but a piece of metal." Eric pulled the jeweled circlet of gold from his head and spun it around on his finger then let it fly. The crown landed in the dirt. "It is too heavy. You can have it."

"It is a symbol of meaning, Eric, but your son, Elric has taken the mantle of Kandara. He has been named king should you fail to uphold your duty."

"Oh, that's a relief. Let him be king instead. Perhaps he will learn to be less of a coward."

"He's barely more than a boy, Eric," Boric growled. "Your sons are still young and they may not be able to defend this land and its people. What will you do if Kandara falls?"

"If Kandara falls? All is lost."

"Yes, brother. That is why we must defend the kingdom. You are the king. It is you duty. You took an oath."

"Yes I took an oath. I took another oath and death took my oath away. Perhaps death will take this one away as well." Eric's echoed sharply against the walls of the cavern.

"Do you long for death?" Is that it?" Boric asked.

"I do not know, Boric," Eric said with a frown, his voice now low and dry, almost a whisper. "Perhaps death longs for me."

Boric did his best to restrain his frustration. He had long hoped that his brother would emerge from the madness that had taken hold of him since the death of the queen, so many years ago, but even the threat of war, an army at the gates of Kandara, did not appear to be enough to shake him from his stupor.

"Brother," Boric growled, then he took a deep breath and decided there was no point. Nothing he had said to Eric over these past years seemed to have gotten through. "I will leave you to your ramblings."

"Boric," the king said. "Do not doubt me. I will fulfil my oath if that is what is required, but I am done with the petty problems this world."

"I wish you would reconsider that last," Boric said. "There is a reason for our oath. There is much to love about this world, and many things that are still worth fighting for."

*****

Ariana followed Laurana through the broken trees, along with Keira, the members of the Elven Court and Quenta, who trailed behind them. A contingent of the Queen's Guard followed, carrying the tree that Ariana had made from Quenta's wooden sword, its roots bound in damp, coarse fabric. The tree, with its bright red leaves, the color of the dyed paste that had been applied to the sword, was a patch of color among the faded, grey wood in the clearing. They reached the center point and Laurana waved her hand over the hard, stony ground where the earth had been scoured away by the mage's fire. Vines and shoots from the young trees that had begun to grow in the clearing dug into the ground, pulling away at the melted rock and packed earth until a hole was made then they retreated. Next, the guards brought the tree forward and Laurana began to unwrap the heavy cloth from its roots as the elves gathered around.

"This tree is a symbol of fire," she said. "It will be planted here and grow for many generations to remind us of the tragedy of this place, and also to remind us that hope is not lost so long as we remain firm in resolve and do not succumb to despair. It is proof that after the flames have died, new life might spring from the ashes."

The guards gently placed the roots of the tree in the hole and, at Laurana's command, the roots of the surrounding trees pushed the dirt around it. Ariana stepped up to the tree and placed her hand upon its trunk, calling forth the power she had used before, pulling energy from the forest that circled the clearing, letting the trees aid her in her task. The small tree that was once a wooden sword began to grow, its trunk thickening and its branches growing long and sprouting new leaves. Ariana closed her eyes and let the power of the forest flow into her as the trees gave of themselves and she felt the earth vibrate as roots pushed new paths beneath her feet. The pain in her ribs sharpened as the exertion sapped her strength but Ariana continued. She wanted it to matter, to be a statement that she hoped would restore the faith of the elves in those who were not born of Elvanar. The trees whispered their pleasure at the healing of the forest and their strength flowed to her through the ground, the roots, the grass and the moss, until, finally, Ariana was exhausted and could do no more. She let go of her power and took her hand from the trunk of the tree then she opened her eyes and saw what the others had witnessed.