Трой Деннинг: The Veiled Dragon

“Then you may call it off when you wish,” Pierstar said. “We are ready to fight when you are.”

Along with a small company of officers and runners, Ruha and the commander were standing behind the parapets of Baldagar Manor. The villa was the lowest of four keeplike mansions grouped together on the western shore of Hillshadow Lake. It offered the best view of the dragon, and it was also well placed to serve as a command post.

The lake itself lay at the foot of Temple Hill, with beachfront streets encircling one end and magnificent villas the other. Fully fifteen hundred Maces stood along the shores, either arrayed along the cobblestone roads or crowded together atop the roofs of the great mansions. In lieu of their customary maces and horse lances, the men were armed with harpoon-firing ballistae or net-flinging catapults. Should they be fortunate enough to actually bring Cypress down, groups of horse-mounted battle wizards waited in strategic locations to reinforce them.

Ruha nodded. “Your preparations are beyond reproach, Pierstar, but—how can I put this without seeming rude?”

“Rude?” the commander snorted. “Why would you worry about being rude when you’ve met Vaerana Hawklyn?”

Ruha smiled. “Then I will speak bluntly. While it is clear that even the dragon cannot slay all of the men gathered here, I fear you may not stop him from escaping. Cypress is no fool. When he leaves the lake, he will not do the predictable thing.”

“Of course not. But how can we predict the unpredictable?” Pierstar asked. “We are not gods.”

“No, but we can control some things,” Ruha replied. “By using those to our advantage, we can guide our foe’s actions.”

Pierstar raised a bushy eyebrow. “What are you thinking?”

The witch described her plan, and by the time she finished, Pierstar looked both hopeful and concerned.

“You’re taking a big risk on Elversult’s behalf, Lady Witch,” he said. “Are you sure you want to?”

Ruha nodded. “I am sure. After Lady Feng smashes Cypress’s spirit gem, we will have only one chance to destroy him—and the best way to be certain we do is to use his rage against him.”

“Then Elversult thanks you, and so do I.” Pierstar laid a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll give the orders.”

Before the commander could leave, a breathless messenger stormed out of the stairwell. He raised a hand in salute to Pierstar, then rushed over to Ruha. “Minister Hsieh sends word that he has spoken to Lady Feng—and her son, Prince Tang.”

“And?” Pierstar asked.

“He reports that they have Yanseldara’s staff, but Cypress interfered before he could tell them to crush the gem.”

Ruha’s stomach turned queasy and cold, and she grew acutely aware of the dull ache of the wound she had suffered earlier. She did not realize she was swaying, however, until Pierstar reached out to brace her.

“Lady Witch?”

“We’re only fighting for time.” Ruha’s voice was so low that even she could barely hear it. “Unless the gem is smashed, we cannot win.”

“The Shou are a smart people.” Pierstar’s confidence sounded forced. “They will understand what their mandarin wanted.”

Ruha took a deep breath, then nodded. “Yes, that is what we must hope. We have no other choice.” Gently, she freed herself from Pierstar’s supporting hand. “Perhaps you should issue your orders. There is no telling what Cypress will do now.”

The commander nodded and went to speak with his officers.

When the messenger did not leave, Ruha asked, “Is there more?”

“The minister is reluctant to mix the ylang potion,” the messenger reported. “He said the spirit battle between Cypress and Yanseldara has begun. Unless Prince Tang destroys the gem, it will only distract the Lady Lord and make her weaker.”

Ruha thought for a moment, remembering the fury in Tang’s eyes when he vowed to prove himself a man and stormed out of the spicehouse. She had expected his words to come to nothing, of course, but if he had actually reached Lady Feng, perhaps his promise had not been an empty one.

“Tell Hsieh to give her the potion.”

“Then you think the prince will smash the gem?” The messenger’s voice was hopeful.

Ruha spread her hands. “Not the prince I know—but the prince I know would not have had the courage to go into a dragon’s lair after his mother. We can only hope this new prince is someone more worthy of the title.”

“I’ll tell the minister what you said. Is there anything else?”

Ruha shook her head, and the messenger departed. Pierstar returned a short time later.

“Our wizards are on the way,” the commander reported. “I’ve also taken the liberty of taking a few other preparations.”

Pierstar gestured at the mansions flanking Baldagar Manor, where several ballista crews were sighting their weapons through the open shutters of the highest windows. On the roofs of the two buildings, the catapult crews were also moving their war engines into the corners closest to the command post. Although the men kept the weapons directed toward the lake, they were careful to leave room to swing around at the last moment.

“You have thought of everything, Pierstar,” Ruha commented. “And now, there is no reason for you and your men—”

“We’re staying.” Pierstar picked up a long, steel-shanked pike and stepped to the parapets. “If you look like bait, this plan won’t work.”

* * * **

Tang filled the waterskin with air, then pushed the stopper into place and looked over at his mother. She had sealed her nostrils with wax and was breathing shallow and fast in preparation for their dive. The water was creeping up the ledge; already, the prince could feel its coolness lapping at his hips. He pulled his dagger and slipped the tip between the spirit gem and its mounting.

“Tang, what do you do?” gasped Lady Feng.

“Minister Hsieh says Lady Ruha almost destroys Cypress.” The prince began to work his dagger back and forth. “He contacts us to smash spirit gem.”

Lady Feng laid a restraining hand on his arm. “Wait until we escape cave.”

“Perhaps we do not escape cave.” Tang continued to pry at the glowing topaz. “Perhaps we drown first.”

“Stop! I command you!”

Tang obeyed, surprised by his mother’s frightened tone. “What is wrong, Lady Feng? You always say life and death are same!”

“They are, but it is great insult for humble scholar to usurp authority of Great Judge by throwing life away.” She did not take her hand from his arm. “And if you destroy gem, how do we find way out?”

The prince waved the butt of the staff toward the dark pool, where the glowing figure of General Fui’s head waited to guide them to safety. “General Fui leads us.”

“General Fui is no longer bound to you by duty, Brave Prince. I call him earlier because I sense change in you that, perhaps, earns his respect. But it is difficult for him to be with us. Even most faithful of servants cannot stay long, and in past you have done little to win his loyalty.”

Tang let his head drop onto the hard stones and stared at the gray ceiling hanging like a tomb’s lid above his face. He heard again the wet crack as the general was beheaded by his own son. That Fui had answered Lady Feng’s summons at all was a wonder, and that he continued to wait in the dark pool was an even greater marvel.

“Fui D’hang was most loyal soldier. Not to follow him now is great insult.” Tang raised his head, then gave his mother a crooked smile. “Besides, we must smash spirit gem. If we die in cavern, it is only way to protect treasure from Cypress.”

Lady Feng’s pop eye looked as though it might fall from its socket; then she released her son’s arm. “I get rock.”