Mary Herbert: City of the Lost

It was mostly because of this network that Linsha began to see little things that did not make sense. A patrol of Iyesta’s militia was massacred, and no one could find out who was responsible. Another esteemed elder in the city council had disappeared, leaving his family behind. What did that make now? Two elders and a merchant who had disappeared lately without a trace. Then there was a shipment of iron bars ordered by one of the local blacksmiths that was stolen. Strangers were seen prowling around the streets for no obvious reason and then mysteriously vanishing. Did any of these things tie in together?

Most alarming of all, to Linsha’s mind, was the silence emanating from Thunder’s neighboring realm.

Stenndunuus, or Thunder, was aptly named. Loud, clashing, and brash, Thunder was one of the most malevolent of the minor dragonlords. He coveted Iyesta’s grasslands and fertile river valleys, but he was too wary of the aggressive brass to challenge her face to face. Instead, he constantly threatened and plotted and voiced his hatred for her at every opportunity. Lately though, he had been very quiet, and very little news had leaked out of his realm. Linsha wondered if the big blue was up to anything, or if he was just laying low to keep out of the attention of his neighbor, Beryl.

At least there was one dragon neighbor who seemed to be complacent for now. Since the end of the Dragon Purge a few years ago, black Sable had spent more and more of her time in her lair in Shrentak where she indulged in her passion for experimentation and the study of parasitic beings. Her gruesome and revolting creatures had grown so numerous of late that no one in Iyesta’s realm ate anything brought out of Sable’s loathsome swamp or went anywhere near it. Although Sable was still a threat to Iyesta’s territory, Linsha did not believe Sable was planning anything more complicated than her next meal or another addition to her foul zoo.

A slight smile came to Linsha’s face at the memory of one creature she had seen delivered to the great black. During her brief duty as a bodyguard to Lord Governor Bight in Sanction, she had accompanied the governor through secret tunnels and passages under the mountains to trade a particularly nasty creature called a cuthril slug to Sable for information. She remembered her incredulity at the exchange and Lord Bight’s secret smile. She remembered, too, trying to explain this trade to the Solamnic Council. Few people could understand why Hogan Bight would make the effort to leave his city to take Sable a slug. Why did he do it? Why did Sable leave him alive?

It wasn’t until Linsha came to the Missing City and became friendly with Iyesta that she understood better the reasons behind Lord Bight’s occasional meetings with Sable. By luring her into face-to-face contact, Lord Bight was able to gather information from the dragon and spread his own news and gossip that kept her distracted and wary and too uncertain to move either north toward his domain or south toward Iyesta’s. From her place in the Plains of Dust, Iyesta did the same thing. Using lies, rumors, the occasional mention of Malys’s name, and a show of her own force, Iyesta had kept Sable away from the Plains for years and made her too wary of exposing her backside if she turned and attacked Sanction. A few herds of cattle sent periodically to Shrentak helped sweeten the precarious stalemate.

If only, Linsha thought for the countless time, there could be someone on the western side of Thunder to help keep him in line. Unfortunately, there was only Beryl, and she was too vicious and untrustworthy to pin any hopes on her. If she weren’t so busy plotting against the elves in Qualinesti, she probably would have looked to her east and tried something devious against Thunder already.

Linsha threw the reports on her desk and sighed. The political and draconic connections across Krynn were endless, mind-boggling, and tangled like a hag’s knitting. Even the wise could not sort them all out. If someone was plotting against Iyesta, or the Knights of Solamnia, or the Legion, or the city, or anyone for that matter, Linsha could not see yet who it was. She was too weary and too morose to think clearly this early morning.

Tired of her own thoughts, Linsha climbed the steps to the high wall and watched the sun rise beyond the red hills. People born before the Chaos War thirty-eight years ago told her the sun had changed when the gods departed and the war ended. It was strange, smaller and paler than before. Yet it was the only sun she had ever known. It seemed adequate enough to her. After all, what could you do about a burning sun far beyond your grasp? Complaining didn’t change anything. Even the mages in the height of their power could not change the sun. There were just some things you had to accept.

An image of her father came into her mind as he had been the last time she saw him. He had made a special journey to Sancrist to visit her in the Solamnic prison. Palin had been strong then, still filled with his magic, and his presence had been a blessing to her. He had listened quietly to her tale of Sanction—and she had told him almost everything—and when she finished he hugged her close and approved of her decisions.

She’d heard since then that life had not fared well for him. Last year she received a message from her brother, Ulin, that their father had been captured by the Dark Knights. She wanted to go home then, but by the time she arranged for an emergency leave and transportation she received another note telling her he was alive and home again. The last word she had from Solace told her of her grandmother’s death. She wondered how her father was faring. Where was he? How was he adjusting to these changes in his life when there were no gods to pray to? He had always told her that he truly believed the gods would return some day. What would he tell her now?

She watched the cool gold light of day swell and fill the sky, sweeping like a tide over the city, bringing it to life. The faded gray and black of night passed into brilliant colors—the blue of the bay, the red of the hills, and the green of the fields and meadows. Traffic began to fill the streets of Mirage, and at the gate of the Citadel, a silver horn blared a greeting to the new day. Around her, the banners of the Knights of Solamnia filled and fluttered from the battlements in the new breeze. It would be another warm day, a delightful day to a city accustomed to cold winters and short summers; a perfect day to prepare for the Midsummer Festival that was just a few days away.

Footsteps behind her brought her out of her pensive thoughts and she turned to face a young Knight striding toward her.

“Lady, there is a beggar at the gates who wishes to see you,” he told her without a blink. The Knights of the garrison were used to greeting odd people at the gate for the Rose Knight.

“Send an escort to the stable to meet me. I will ride to the overlord’s palace in twenty minutes.”

She turned back to the wall and stared silently at the brightening skies. To the north lay the vast expanse of the Plains of Dust. Beyond those miles of grassland, savannah, and desert was Sanction and Solace. An odd yet fitting choice of names for two places she desired to be.

A flash of light caught her eye from somewhere just beyond the distant ragged edges of the ruined city. Bright and yellow as brass, it caught the morning sun, dipping and soaring on the wind fresh from the sea. Linsha smiled. The big brass dragon was out enjoying a morning flight. Knowing the dragon as she did, Linsha assumed she had some spare time before Iyesta would be back in her lair and waiting for her. Linsha watched the dragon fly for another moment or two, then left the wall and returned to the headquarters to turn the watch over to the day officer. There was no time left for brooding thoughts or endless reflections on things she could do little about. Morning had come, and with it were a myriad of things she had to do before she could snatch a little sleep before reporting for duty again. With luck, Sir Morrec would be back today and she could get a little respite from Sir Remmik’s pompous lectures on the subject of obedience.