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Authors: James V. Viscosi

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BOOK: Dragon Stones
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A voice said:  "That was the throne room."

Ponn turned; a scroll-laden man had entered, his arms so full of papers and parchments that Ponn couldn't see his face except for tired, rheumy eyes and a shock of white hair above them.  "It is likely that my lord King's father is still in there, beneath the rubble, along with half his court and a number of his commanders."

Ponn wasn't sure how to respond to this.  "I am sorry for your kingdom's misfortune," he said.

"Yes," the man said after a moment.  "Misfortune."

A boy entered the room from a narrow, dark opening on the right.  Ponn wasn't sure it was really a door; it looked more like a hole torn in the wall by the partial collapse of the throne room.  It took him a second to recognize Laquin.  Jalla was first to realize who it was, rushing over and falling to her knees in front of him.  "Please, sire, I didn't know anything about the dragon!" she cried.  "Do not punish me, I beg of you!"

Laquin waved her to silence.  "You speak the truth, I'm sure," he said.  "I want you here to help ensure that Pyodor Ponn does as well."

"Is there to be punishment, then?" Ponn asked.

"I seek information," Laquin said, "not a scapegoat."

"You know, I have a son not much younger than you."

Laquin looked at Ponn oddly, then grinned in a most unkingly manner.  "Everyone does," he said.  "I've been told some variation of that by Lebbeck there, two other advisers, the captain of the night watch, and now you."

"My son doesn't conduct himself the way you do."

"I've been practicing to be king for sixteen years," Laquin said.  Then, looking very young, if just for a moment:  "I never expected my practice to end so suddenly, or under such circumstances."

"My condolences on the loss of your father."

Laquin nodded, all kingly business once more.  "Enough about that," he said.  "Tell me what you know of these eagle-riders."

"I'm afraid I know nothing more than what I already told you.  They came to Enshenneah seeking crystals from the volcano, and succeeded.  T'Sian—the dragon—told me that they took crystals from her lair as well, and slaughtered her hatchlings in the process.  But as to who commands them or where they come from, I cannot say."

"Then let me tell you," Laquin said.  "They struck out of the north and east.  That's Dunshandrin's realm.  Unless someone has been growing enormous birds without his knowledge, I would say he has just tipped his hand."

"Why would Dunshandrin attack you?"

"Rumor has it that he has fallen ill, and the twins are now in control."  Laquin frowned.  "I've met them.  Even as children they were off-balance, always coming to blows over trivia.  They have always argued over who was born first and would inherit their father's mantle—which, I will concede, is not trivia.  Perhaps they've decided that the best way to settle their argument is to expand their kingdom to the southwest."

"They'll be coming on foot next," the scroll-laden man said.

The king rolled his eyes, exactly the way Pord would the third time Ponn told him to do his chores.  "Yes, Lebbeck, I know that.  That's why I have sent scouts to the river to watch for a crossing."  Then, to Ponn:  "We expect them to strike soon, before we have a chance to rebuild our defenses, although if the twins are directing this attack they may do something erratic.  There is something about this situation that troubles me, though."

"The dragon?" Ponn said.

"Yes.  A dragon should have easily demolished their eagles in the air.  So why did it fail?  And where is it now?"

"I haven't seen her since the raid began."

"I am concerned that they captured the beast," Laquin said.  "If they did, I daresay that they'll be using it against us somehow."

"You needn't worry about that," Ponn said.  "T'Sian detests the eagle-riders.  She would never join them."

"Men who are clever enough to grow giant birds and create weapons that can destroy buildings are certainly clever enough to coerce a dragon's assistance," Laquin said.  "And if it is dead, we must know how they killed it.  They may have additional resources of which we are not aware."

"I don't know what happened to her," Ponn said.  "After she flew off to fight Dunshandrin's men, Jalla and I hid in her oven until the fire went by."

Laquin raised an eyebrow.  "That was risky."

"It's a good, solid oven," Jalla said.  She sounded a bit sulky; Ponn wondered if she was jealous of the attention he was receiving from her king.  "Very thick walls.  We were safer there than we would have been anywhere else."  Ponn almost expected her to claim the idea as her own, but she said nothing else.

"Indeed.  Well, here is what we must do.  We must find the dragon, if it is still in the city.  You two will help Lebbeck organize groups of searchers."

"Me?" Jalla said.  "Why me?"

Laquin glanced at her.  "Because you know what the dragon looks like in its human guise, of course."

"But I—"

The king raised a royal eyebrow.  "Because I said so."

After a moment Jalla said:  "Yes, sire, of course."

"Good," Laquin said.  "That's settled, then.  I'll leave you to make arrangements with Lebbeck."  He indicated the man with the scrolls.  "He's the acting castellan.  Formerly he was an assistant castellan, but there have been many promotions this day.  I am told he is the most organized man in the kingdom; I cannot speak to that, except to say that all my birthday parties have gone off successfully."  Laquin bowed and departed.

Lebbeck gave them each a starchy look, then tossed his scrolls and parchments to the floor.  He pawed through them until finding the one he wanted, which he unrolled, pinning the edges with weights that he took out of his pockets.  "This is a map of the city," he said.  "We will divide it into sections and search for this dragon of yours."

"But the city is so big," Jalla said.  "How will we ever search the whole thing?"

"On foot," Lebbeck said, "and as fast as we can."

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

Diasa stood on the dock at Achengate and looked out over the scalloped surface of Lake Achenar.  Saltier than the sea, the vast reservoir of brine lent a sharp tang to the air; anything that remained in the water for any length of time became encrusted with a white, powdery rime.  In the distance, across Achenar's narrow arm to her left, she could see the salt fens of eastern Yttribia, grey and drab as the underside of a boot.  In a month or two it would be buried under snow and the world would be happier for it.

She noticed a shimmering from the corner of her eye and thought she saw dark figures silhouetted against the dawn; but when she turned it was only Ilfiss and Wert, approaching from farther up the wharf.  She turned away again, looking out over the still waters, watching the birds as they wheeled and cried overhead.  Ilfiss stopped beside her; Wert had gotten distracted by a crablike creature that had, to its regret, somehow gained the platform and was now trying to scuttle away from him, waving its claws in the air in a futile threat.

"I spoke to the harbor-master.  There's a merchant ship coming, one of the last of the season," Ilfiss said.  "It should arrive tomorrow.  They'll unload and then we'll be able to book passage south to Barbareth, or across the lake to Madroval."

"What about a caravan?"

He shook his head.  "There are no more caravans.  Winter is too near, no one wants to risk crossing the mountains.  At least, not for what we're able to pay."

Diasa grunted.  Flaurent had had a sizable treasury, but it had vanished down one of the crevasses that Deliban had created.  The only money they had now was what the survivors had carried, and what had been recovered from the pockets of the dead.

Ilfiss said:  "The ship is Dunshandrian."

She felt her spine stiffen, and put her hand on the hilt of her sword.  "A royal vessel?"

"No.  Merchant, as I said.  But its cargo is intended for Dunshandrin's mines."

Wert appeared next to them.  He had captured the crustacean and was holding the creature in front of him; its spiny legs wiggled in the air as it struggled to escape.  "It waves its claws, but it cannot reach me," he said, staring at it.

"Yes, Wert, that's fascinating," Diasa said.  Then, to Ilfiss:  "I will not set foot on one of Dunshandrin's ships except to scuttle it and send its miserable crew to the bottom."

"Of course you won't.  But this is a
merchant
vessel.  It does not belong to Dunshandrin.  It belongs to a
merchant
."

"A merchant from Dunshandrin."

"You speak of the
Pride
," Wert said.

Ilfiss and Diasa both looked down at the little man.  "Yes," Ilfiss said.  "Were you listening when I talked to the harbor-master?"

"You must meet the
Pride
when it arrives, Diasa,
" Wert said, looking at her with the fervid intensity of an eight-year-old describing a monster lurking beneath his bed.  The crab, forgotten, had managed to latch onto one of his fingers and was squeezing it without mercy.

Diasa said:  "Why?"

"You'll see."

"That isn't good enough anymore, Wert!" she snapped.  "If you have seen something, tell me what it is!"

Wert turned away.  "I cannot," he said, shaking the crab loose and tossing it into the water.  It landed with a splash and disappeared beneath the surface.  Diasa balled her hands into fists, resisting the urge to pick him up by his scruffy robes and throw him in after it.

"Leave him be," Ilfiss said.  "Shouting won't make him tell you anything more than he already has."

"He's told me nothing.  Unless Dunshandrin himself will be disembarking from this vessel, so that I can kill him, I fail to see why I would want to meet it."  She aimed her foot at Wert, then turned and kicked a piling instead.

"When was the last time you slept, Diasa?" Ilfiss said.

"I'm fine."

"You are not fine.  In fact, you are beginning to look nearly as mad as Wert.  Go back to the inn and rest.  You will feel better afterwards, I promise."

"You oracles," Diasa said.  "Always trying to predict the future."

 

Laquin had decreed that all able civilians who were not suited for combat would assist in the search for T'Sian.  This included the old men, the lame, the women, and the children from among the survivors who had gathered in King's Square.  They were split into divisions, given a description of T'Sian and whatever equipment could be scrounged to help them search, and dispatched into the city.

Ponn's group spent the next several hours prodding into open spaces with poles, shifting debris with improvised levers, extinguishing small fires.  Occasionally one of the searchers would rescue a loved one or a stranger, and everyone rejoiced; at other times they found bodies, which they laid out in the street for the black wagons that prowled the darkened avenues.  These less-happy occasions became more frequent as the night ground on toward morning.  Finally, as dawn stole across the ruins, Ponn sank onto an inviting pile of rubble and said:  "This is hopeless.  We'll never find her."

Lebbeck, who had assigned himself to Ponn's group, gave him a canny glance and motioned for the others to continue on.  He waited until they were out of earshot, then said:  "There will be no such talk in front of the common folk.  They are already on the verge of despair and do not need to hear tidings of hopelessness from you, the dragon's good friend.  Do you understand me, Enshennean?"

He was right, of course.  "Yes.  I'm sorry.  It's fatigue that makes me speak this way, I'm sure.  I just need to rest."

"Rest?  You must be joking.  Look at me.  I'm an old man, and I'm not ready to stop yet."

"Just a few moments, please," Ponn said.  "I haven't slept properly in days."

"There's no time for sleep!  Our scouts say Dunshandrin's soldiers are gathering beyond the river at the bottom of the bluff.  We have the high ground and will defend it, but the  ranks of our soldiers have been thinned by this cowardly attack, and the men we plucked from the crowd are hardly replacements for battle-tested fighters.  No, we must find your friend the dragon before Dunshandrin's footmen strike."

"What if you attack them while they're still organizing?"

"Our position is the only advantage we have.  Until reinforcements arrive from the interior, we've no choice but to maintain a defensive posture.  But these are matters for the prince—I mean the king—and his commanders to fathom.  Our simple task is to find the dragon and persuade her to assist us."

The castellan stretched out a gnarled hand.  Ponn took it, and found himself hauled to his feet by the man's surprising strength.  They rejoined the others and resumed their slow trek through the wreckage, until at last they came to the end of their assigned section of the city.  They had found no survivors for some time, and had turned up no trace of the dragon.  Lebbeck himself looked haggard now, worn out by the night's fruitless searching.  He dispersed the searchers, telling them to find what shelter they could, and then guided Ponn through streets thick with mourning, back toward Laquin's shattered castle.

BOOK: Dragon Stones
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