Juliet McKenna: Northern Storm

Slaves and servants are all the defence the residence has at the moment. I hope no opportunistic pirate thinks to attack Itrac while every eye and blade is turned against this dragon. At least that bastard Ulla Safar’s too far away to try taking such advantage, even if he did hear some rumour of what was going on. The Chazen swordsmen were drawn up in precise troops amid the milling crowds, steel hauberks bright, polished helmets gleaming even in the dull overcast. Kheda looked for Ridu but couldn’t see him. He set the thought aside resolutely and took off his own helmet so that his face could be seen more clearly and an immediate hush fell around him. Ripples of silence raced outwards until the only sound was the idle play of the sea. Every face turned to Kheda: openly anxious, taut with apprehension, all utterly deteimined.

‘You are here to do Chazen a great service today.’ The words sounded thin and insincere in Kheda’s ears. He cleared his throat. ‘We have a difficult and dangerous task ahead of us. We are looking to kill a creature bigger than any I have ever hunted—and if any of you have ever tried harpooning a sea serpent or a whale anywhere near as big, I’m amazed you’re here to tell the tale.’

Nervous laughter shivered through a few people. His next words killed it.

‘This creature has magic to call upon as well as its size and strength. I don’t know what it may try, to confuse us or kill us, but we must expect it to wield its unnatural powers. We must not let this undermine our resolve. We must fight our way through such attacks to kill the creature itself and that will put paid to such malevolence. We will end this evil blighting Chazen.’

He scanned the intent faces all around. Here and there he noted the uncut hair and beard of a soothsayer. The sages were nodding with approval as they clutched their baskets of prophetic stones or held augury doves dozing in little cages.

Kheda’s voice strengthened. ‘Do not fear the stain of magic touching you. Wiser men than us, through many revolutions of the heavens, are all agreed that the innocent victims of magic are not condemned by its touch. Every portent for Chazen has been positive of late, from the blessing of the prodigious pearl harvest onwards. The domain’s future is full of hope. We are here to claim that hope for ourselves and for those we love. The rains will wash this dragon’s blood from Chazen soil to be lost in the boundless depths of the ocean.’

A few men raised a belligerent cheer.

Kheda spoke again, his voice louder, harsher. ‘We know these beasts can be killed. This dragon we are here to hunt fought and killed the fire-born beast that first arrived to plague us. That evil is dead and gone and scales from its hide are token of that death and talisman to protect the lives risked here today.’ He pointed to men wearing scales on thongs of leather or plaited grass, dull as gouts of blood in the muted light.

‘This second dragon paid heavily for its victory. I saw its terrible wounds with my own eyes. The creature is already grievously weakened.’ Kheda thrust his helmet back on to his head and drew a sword. ‘Let’s kill it for Chazen and look to the future!’

This time a full-throated roar burst from the crowd.

‘Mezai! Where are the scouts who volunteered to track it down last night?’ Kheda had to raise his voice to be heard in the din.

‘My lord!’ Before the shipmaster could answer, Kheda saw another familiar face forcing a path through the throng.

‘Beyau, what brings you here?’ Cold flowed through Kheda’s heart. ‘Is my lady Itrac all right?’

‘She is, my lord,’ Beyau assured him at once. ‘She gave me leave to join in this hunt. She sent this for you.’ He handed Kheda a double-folded and tightly sealed letter.

Kheda took it, aware that all eyes were suddenly fastened on him. He cracked the seals, sweat from his fingers darkening the pale reed paper. He scanned the letter and purposely smoothed an incautious frown from his forehead, replacing it with a wide smile of delight

‘We have another omen of blessing for Chazen.’ Kheda brandished the paper high above his head to include everyone in his shouted announcement. ‘My lady Itrac Chazen is with child! Let’s make sure she brings the new heir into a domain free from the shadow of any dragon’s wings!’

His words were drowned out by exultant cheers raised by those standing closest to him. Kheda stood looking at the letter.

Will you leave another fatherless child to be raised by a mother secretly relieved you are gone from her life? Will you leave Chazen with the disaster of an infant ruler prey to Daish ambition, never mind any other domain that might look to take advantage? This is all still far from over.

‘This won’t be such good news if we make so much noise that we frighten the dragon into flight, wounded or not.’ Kheda turned his back on the jubilation spreading across the clutter of boats in the bay, lest he inadvertently catch sight of Risala. ‘Mezai, where are those scouts?’

‘Here, my lord.’ Struggling for some belated restraint, the crowds parted to allow three disparate groups of men through to the warlord.

‘My lord.’ The leader of the first group bowed low before exchanging a glance with the man pushed forward by the second band. Each contingent showed a stamp of common blood and a harmony in their dress and weapons suggesting they were village hunting parties. The third gang was a loose collection of men whose stained gear and worn faces indicating the harder life of the solitary forest dweller. They had the darker complexions and wiry hair of hill blood rather than the coppery faces and sleeker heads of the coastal dwellers.

‘Where is the dragon?’ Kheda looked from the first man to the leader of the second group.

‘That pass leans to a narrow valley, my lord.’ The first man turned to point to a notch in the vine-choked trees cloaking the high ground rising from the shoreline. ‘The valley leads up to a broad terrace on the far side of that peak. That’s where the beast is lying up.’

Kheda looked but couldn’t even see a peak on the distant mountain shrouded by curtains of low cloud. ‘It’s huddled in between two ridges running down from the height,’ the leader of those from the second village added dourly. ‘Trying to hide itself under a stand of iron-woods.’

‘Is there space to get sufficient men up to fight it on this terrace?’ Kheda looked for answers among all the men.

‘Space enough.’ One of the forest dwellers took a pace forward, rubbing a hand over his close-cropped beard. ‘But there’s only the one path to get up there.’

‘Good day to you, Zicre.’ Kheda nodded a brief greeting.

‘There’s nothing but bare rock and scree at its back, my lord,’ the dour hunter continued. ‘We can only come at it from the front.’

‘I don’t think the beast is expecting attack,’ an older man from the first village said judiciously. ‘It’s not lying up where it could keep watch for anyone starting up the slope.’

‘It’s certainly sorely wounded, my lord,’ volunteered one of the second contingent. ‘A blind man could find it in the dark from the stink alone.’

‘And get his head bitten off for his trouble,’ Zicre commented, grim-faced. ‘If it’s not lying in wait, it certainly doesn’t want to be found.’ He fixed Kheda with a questioning eye.

Kheda looked calmly back at him. What would you ask me, if you dared? How did I know the dragon was here in the first place? Whether it would regain its strength if we left it alone? Could even so great a creature recover from the wounds you’ve seen? Why are we risking ourselves instead of just waiting to see if the dragon dies?

Because I think Velindre was right, mage or not, when she said this would be a form of purification for the domain. Because I have to know if I am condemned for bringing magic to this domain. What better wager than my life against this creature’s?