Soul Bonds Book 1 Circles of Light series (20 page)

Tika grabbed Mim’s hand and began to run. There was an urgency in her sudden movement which worried Gan but he quashed the urge to race after the pair. There were no Shardi near, that he was sure of, so whatever was wrong he would find out soon enough.

And he did. As they arrived at the sheltered plateau where the Dragons had chosen to land, he signalled Soran to begin the routine setting up of an orderly camp. Then he turned to the Dragons. It was Jeela. Tika and Mim were pressed each side of her, Kija half curled around her small daughter. Ashta and Farn were deeply distressed, green eyes and blue whirring rapidly.

Gan called over his shoulder to the two Healers and hurried to the Dragons. Fenj said: ‘The little one is too cold Gan. She has tried to hide her suffering but she nearly fell from the sky. Farn flew beneath her and tried to take her body on his own until Brin took her. She is hurting Gan.’

The Healers moved forward with no hesitation. Never had they been called upon to heal a Dragon, but their training sent them instantly to offer what help they could to a creature in pain. They laid their hands on the little ivory Dragon and she tried to raise her head. Her eyes were half closed, and to Gan’s horror, he saw great tears sliding down her long face. Then he realised Tika and Mim were weeping, and he turned away. He barked orders to the nearest Guards who rushed to find kindling, adding tight pressed faggots they carried in the supply packs.

Lorak pushed through the Guards, dropping various bags and sacks as he passed Gan. Gan watched as the old man unfastened his worn, patched cloak and swung it over the small Jeela, tucking it with infinite gentleness over her delicate wings. Gan bespoke Fenj, asking if Jeela would recover. ‘This time, yes Gan. She can not go further I think. But,’ he added, ‘there will be much upset and argument. She is smaller than any hatchling I have known, yet she is strong in her spirit.’

‘Is she aware that she will have to give in?’ Gan asked.

Fenj gave a mental shrug. ‘She knows, but she will ignore that knowledge. Let us wait until she is restored now.’

The fire the Guards had lit was burning well, throwing a good heat out around it. All could see the little creamy Dragon was in trouble now, and the Guards were quiet as they lit other fires for cooking their suppers, glancing frequently at the huddle around Jeela. Gan stepped closer as the Healers moved back. He laid his hand on Jeela’s foreleg, sliding it down to touch her “hand”. He was shocked at how cold the soft hide was and on touching her, he was aware of how deeply the cold had penetrated her body. Brin called that he would hunt, and returned a while later with a volu. He put it beside Kija and the gold Dragon tore small pieces from the carcass, urging her daughter to eat.

It was fully dark when Jeela seemed recovered. Mim explained to Gan that they had been unable to use the Power to thaw the ice from Jeela’s very bones because she had weakened so much. She had to be left to warm steadily; heating her fast would have put tremendous strain on her heart and indeed, could have killed her. The Healers had already given Gan a similar diagnosis.

‘But will she go back to Gaharn Mim?’

The brilliant blue eyes with the vertical pupils again filled with tears. ‘No.’

‘But she has to, after this.’

‘No,’ repeated Mim and turned away.

Trem was beside Gan, listening, and now he said: ‘Sir, the Dragons are having a fearful argument – can you hear?’ He shook his head, still amazed that he could hear Dragon speech. He was also amazed that he had been so stupid as to believe only the People, and a few humans like himself, were “intelligent” enough to use the mind speech.

Gan concentrated on the Dragons. They all appeared at ease, reclined around the fire, all except Jeela a short distance from the heat. They seemed relaxed, quiet, but as Gan focused harder, he realised Trem was right. Kija was furious; indeed, relaxed as she still appeared, her eyes were beginning to flash sparks of reflected fire. Ashta and Farn were listening to Kija, but taking no part in the argument. Brin looked wonderfully innocent for his massive size, his head tilted back, eyes searching the sky for a few stars that had escaped the cloud cover.

‘She must return to the Lady.’ Kija was saying. ‘She will die if she again gets as cold as she has done this day.’

Jeela, still draped in Lorak’s cloak and her head over his shoulder, appeared quite unconcerned. Gan and Trem realised why as she said to her mother in perfectly reasonable tones: ‘I will travel on with you all.’

Kija snorted, a rather undignified sound. ‘And you, Brin, to encourage her. I cannot believe you could be so irresponsible at your age!’ She looked at Fenj. ‘Have you no influence over this half-wit son of yours?’

Fenj rattled his wings. ‘No,’ he replied shortly.

Farn was gazing at Brin with open admiration for the crimson Dragon. Brin lowered his gaze to Kija. ‘Tika can give her some protection and she is such a tiny hatchling - .’ Jeela flashed a glare at him – ‘I can carry her with no problem.’

‘Of course!’ Farn let slip, wilting instantly as Kija’s fury turned in her son’s direction. ‘Don’t you dare try to copy this foolish one’s ways!’ Her wrath was almost visible now, but she caught herself from saying more, instead lifting rapidly from her place and soaring into the darkness.

‘She is still very bossy,’ Brin remarked.

‘Yes,’ replied his father. ‘But will you truly be able to carry Jeela? We have a long way yet to go.’

‘I believe it is about three more days until we near the place where the other Kin found me. I think we should call to them as we approach. If we do so, they may hear us, even below the mountains as they usually seem to be.’

Fenj sighed. ‘I like this not, my son. But I pray to the stars, you remember how many lives may depend on you now.’

Chapter Twenty

Gan forced the pace over the next two days. The weather was rapidly worsening with sleet blown sideways by a vicious wind. During the second night, the wind died away and snow began to fall. Brin had carried Jeela while Tika had used the Power to help all the Dragons withstand the biting cold. She had taken strength from both Mim and Gan, but still found that the continuous concentration was deeply tiring. Ashta and Farn were beginning to weaken in the unrelenting coldness, although the adult Dragons were still strong.

Gan had discussed with his officers, the strange fact that the Guards had become greatly concerned for the Dragons’ well being. Although Nomis had worked with fengars most of his life, as they had never evinced responsive characteristics, he was not emotionally involved in their care. But he admitted that he too was worried for the Dragons – especially the smallest.

Drak reported that several men had asked if there was anything they could do, or give to, the little Dragon, to make her better. Trem nodded – he too had been asked the same questions. Soran commented: ‘I tried to choose men who had trained together, and who had been on patrols to the west and fought together, to remain in this company. But still there are several separate groups within these fifty men. Yet they are united by their worry for these Dragons.’

‘They do not see them as mascots, or lucky charms, Sir,’ said Drak. ‘I heard some talk of the way they used fire against the Shardi, but also of the golden Dragon’s obvious concern for her two young ones. The men seem to regard them as members of the Guards – if you see what I mean Sir,’ he ended in confusion.

Gan nodded. ‘I do indeed Drak. And I have to admit to being worried at the outset by the presence of Dragons, and of a Kephi, and of old Lorak. The Dragons, as you say Drak, seem to unify the men. That Kephi,’ he looked around warily, ‘seems to cheer them with her antics, and Lorak with his jokes. I hope it is only jokes,’ he added. ‘Has anyone noticed any signs of his – concoctions – around the camp?’ His officers grinned, but all denied any such knowledge.

Brin began mind calling that night. He called at regular intervals, then listened, as did the other Dragons. Mim and Tika slept soundly, Khosa making herself comfortable inside Mim’s shirt.

‘We heard no response to Brin’s calls,’ Fenj told Gan the next morning. ‘He will call aloud as we fly, perhaps you should warn your two legs. Jeela will continue the mind call as we travel.’

‘Will the snow hinder you Fenj?’

‘We cannot fly too long or too fast when the snow is so heavy,’ Fenj admitted. ‘We will not travel far ahead of you this day I think.’

Tika and Mim looked fit after their night’s rest, although Mim was shivering already. Gan knew better than to suggest the two rode on fengar back – he had done so previously and they had adamantly refused.

‘This one thinks fengars are very unsafe creatures,’ Mim had said, leaving Gan rather nonplussed. They thought nothing of perching on Dragons and flying high in the air, yet the idea of riding fengar back obviously terrified them.

Gan had given a message for Emla to a merig. Kija had bespoken to a pair as she had said she would. Gan was rather amused – he suspected Emla had not bothered to test these rather tattered looking birds. He regretted he could not see her reaction when they arrived at her House and proceeded to give a fairly full report of the company’s progress.

Now, there was only a slight lightening of the sky to indicate the sun had risen far above the great billows of snow clouds. The Guards struck camp and began the day’s march. They were climbing higher into the mountains now rather than skirting the foothills, but Soran reported no grumbles – as yet.

Tika was still using the Power to give some shielding to the Dragons, but suddenly she struggled through the knee-deep snow to pull Gan’s cloak. ‘They have been answered!’ Her green eyes sparkled at him. ‘Jeela says three answered – two of the Kin and one not.’ As she spoke, Mim caught up with them, Sket at his side.

‘Look!’ he said.

Fenj’s great black shape was descending through the thickly falling snow. As he landed, all the company gathered near him. His eyes whirred kaleidoscopic colours with excitement as he bespoke Gan. ‘Brin spoke truly! There are Kin here, even now!’ Mim spoke Fenj’s words aloud so all the Guards could follow the Dragon’s news. ‘We must go higher still Gan. Will your two-legs be able to manage? And these fengars?’ He sounded doubtful.

Nomis told him aloud: ‘We will bring the fengars as far as we can get them. They are unlikely to survive now if we release them here.’

Soran agreed. ‘How far are we from these Kin of yours?’

‘It will take the rest of this day for you to climb to the place they described. They will meet us there at nightfall.’

‘Right.’ Gan looked at his men. ‘A hard climb, Fenj says, and no sign of the snow letting up. Unload most of the supplies from the fengars and distribute them through the company. A man to walk each side of a fengar. The rest of you, in twos ahead of them.’ Tika murmured to Gan, and he added: ‘Lorak, you and Mim continue with Fenj.’ The old man protested that he was quite able to march on, but the greyness of his face belied his words. Mim also protested that he would remain with Tika.

‘Ashta and Jeela have need of your support,’ Gan lied blandly. Lorak and Mim both stared hard at him, but eventually they moved towards the Dragon. Khosa’s head popped above Tika’s cloak.

‘Is it likely you may slip over high rocks or cliffs?’ she enquired.

Tika chuckled, removing the sack in which she carried Khosa, from around her neck. ‘Go with Mim and Lorak, brave Kephi!’

Rhaki had been receiving conflicting reports, which displeased him immensely. One told of Emla’s Guards returning to Gaharn, greatly reduced in numbers. Another said the band was still heading north, but through the high mountains. That was arrant nonsense of course: even Guards could not be so foolhardy as to try to go higher in the worsening weather. Another report told of the total defeat of the Cansharsi he had moved to the far west. Led by the Lords of Return and Far, the humans had chased them down and slaughtered them to the last one. That at least, was what he had anticipated there. Verim was reported killed in the fighting, but Rhaki felt sure he had merely transferred his allegiance to the Lords of the west.

In the south, the Cansharsi were still harassing farms and villages, but there was something amiss: Rhaki’s informers spoke of groups of Linvaks suddenly appearing, attacking the Cansharsi, and retreating again. Each time leaving a few less Cansharsi.

These informers all spoke of one or two Nagums being seen with the Linvaks. Rubbish, thought Rhaki. Utterly impossible. Nagums were timid fools who never left their precious woodlands. Why would they be in the company of Linvaks?

He had ordered Jal to go through the deep passageways, alone, to try to ascertain if the Guards really were advancing north. Jal had gone yesterday, with instructions to be as swift as he could. Rhaki had allowed him to ride on one of his new fengars. He had been experimenting with them for some time, breeding for a more docile strain. He had long thought they might be useful for general travellers, not just as fighting men’s mounts.

Rhaki was most enraged with the Shardi. He had expended a great deal of Power in taking control of one of their leaders, but he had been unable to over ride the panic that took over once Dragonfire was used. It had taken him hours to recover his strength and he promised himself he would make the Shardi suffer exquisitely for failing him.

He had at least had the opportunity to glimpse the Dragons. Jal had borne the brunt of Rhaki’s fury: ‘Three huge adult Dragons, you imbecile!’ Rhaki had screamed. ‘You reported two young ones, and what do I find? Three monstrous creatures spitting fire everywhere!’

‘Master,’ Jal was on his knees. ‘My spies did see only two young ones, a pale green, and a silver blue.’

‘I saw no Dragons that colour through Shardi eyes, fool. The three I saw were black, crimson and gold. And very large.’

‘They must have followed the others, Master.’

‘Of course they must! Stars, am I served by incompetents? Leave me now, but I will summon you again this day. Wait nearby.’

Jal bowed himself backwards from Rhaki’s study, closing the door gently before straightening with a sigh of relief.

‘The Master is far from happy.’

Jal nearly leapt to the roof as the whisper came from beside him. Bark’s tall, skeletal figure stood there, smiling. It was not an attractive smile, Jal thought. ‘No,’ he replied as calmly as he could while his heart was still trying to return to its rightful place and speed. ‘He becomes – unhappy – far more swiftly of late, I find,’ he ventured.

Bark’s smile became even less attractive. ‘He does, does he not?’

Rhaki had ordered Jal through the passageways. He told him how to undo the rock door near the entrance, which made it seem merely a cell like chamber, rather than the start of a passage through the mountain. Jal had been riding for several hours, his way faintly lit by widely spaced glow lamps. He wondered who came to tend the glowers down here, they had to be fed after all, then he shivered as he tried not to imagine any of Rhaki’s creations creeping about down here. And who had made these great tunnels? Shivering again, he decided it would be best not to think of such things.

Several other passages led off from the one he travelled, but they were all in deepest darkness. He rode from pale light to pale light at a steady lope. Fengars could go for great distances at this pace – the sort of speed a man could run only for short bursts. Twice before had Jal taken this route for Rhaki, and yet he realised he only now remembered the fact of those previous trips. The Guardian must make him forget when he returned, he decided.

Jal reckoned maybe four hours had passed as he rode between the unchanging walls of the passageway. He reined in the fengar and dismounting, poured water from a leather bottle into a dish for it to drink. It would not be fed now; a short halt for water and for his weight to be off its back, and it would be fit for another four hours steady run.

Jal squatted on his heels, the rein wrapped around his hand, and chewed a piece of bread and meat. Then he froze. The fengar’s ears twitched back and forth, then ears and head pointed towards the blank side wall. Jal rose silently, moving to press himself against the rough rock.

There was something moving on the other side of the rock. He strained to decipher the faint noise. After a while, he relaxed again. The fengar had lost interest; whatever it was, it was gone. He swung into the saddle and rode on, wondering if it could have been Shardi, and should he mention it to the Guardian? Or perhaps – Bark?

Bark was sitting outside the Guardian’s study. He sat upright, his hands loosely clasped on his lap, his face hidden beneath the cowl of his robe. Many Cycles before, he had been a student in Gaharn. He had been slow to join conversations since childhood, preferring to listen and think on what he heard. No one showed him any scorn or mistreatment, that was not the People’s way, but because of his unwillingness to speak, he became a solitary child and young man.

When he entered the Asataria with others of his generation, he was surprised and flattered by Rhaki’s increasing attention. The mercurial Rhaki, considered by many, especially himself, to be a brilliant mind, adored having Bark’s silent company. In his self confidence, Rhaki never suspected that beneath Bark’s silence ran rivers of thought, deeper by far than his own, and pondered over for Cycles rather than the brief hour Rhaki might spare on a problem.

Rhaki allowed Bark alone to hear his jealous tirades against his sister Emla, of his contempt for the Seniors who instructed them, and for the People in general. Never once, in all those Cycles, had Rhaki asked for Bark’s opinion, assuming Bark saw him as he saw himself – beyond compare to all others.

Then no one, including Bark, knew of Rhaki’s fascination with genetics, or of the small experiments he had already attempted. By the time Rhaki was raised to the Guardianship, many had become wary of him. They could not say specifically what made them cautious, but something was separating Rhaki from most of the People of Gaharn.

When Rhaki, Bark, and a retinue of specially selected human servants arrived at the Guardian’s stronghold, Rhaki’s first act was to dismiss all the previous Guardian’s household. His next was the setting up of the first of a series of ambitious breeding programmes. He lectured Bark fully on his plans in that field and also his plans for gaining control of this world, especially the Realm of Gaharn.

Bark, as always, his self hidden deep in his own mind, was at last appalled at Rhaki’s ideas. He had not yet decided whether the damage Rhaki had inflicted on his mind was a deliberate act to keep him subservient, or truly accidental. Rhaki had had Bark well tended, nursed back to physical health. He assumed that the blank emptiness he saw within Bark’s mind, as season followed season and Cycle followed Cycle, was to be Bark’s permanent state now.

But from that cataclysmic moment when Bark felt his mind disintegrate, a tiny part had remained aware. Through these long ages that part had slowly – oh so slowly –grown. And he had spoken to Jerak. Unknown to Rhaki, Jerak had sought out Bark and talked with him on four occasions before Rhaki’s final outburst of arrogance.

The resulting contest of Power had stunned all in the stronghold. Indeed several deaths had resulted from the reverberations of Power shattering the very particles of air. Most had regained their senses to an eerie quietness. Bark had recovered quicker than most and gone to Rhaki’s study. He opened the rock door that Rhaki foolishly believed was known only to himself. He had hurried down the passages until he found the Guardian slumped unconscious at the open door of the Chamber of the Sacred Balance.