Ширли Мерфи - The Dragonbards

“But how can they follow? There is no scent—we don’t know . . .”

“They will follow. Open the cave.”

Vighert stared.

Quazelzeg said patiently, “It will be Tebriel himself who will lead my pets to the dragons.” Yes, Meriden’s son would lead them, and that would be the sweetest revenge of all. He looked at his hands, which he kept immaculate, and saw filth from endless worlds.

By the time the creatures were released, the thin moon was dropping into the west. Quazelzeg’s pets swept out through the hole at the bottom of the wall, up into the night, following their queen, their wings cutting the wind with a dry, snapping sound, their little sharp teeth gleaming, their little dull minds dreaming of blood. Their yellow queen led them with sporadic shiftings across the sky, pulled by a thin, uncertain beckoning. The black cloud of vamvipers shifted with her, changing and changing shape like black smoke, filling the wind with their stink.

*

It was just dark when Camery looked up suddenly to see three smears of white moving fast across the stars. “Teb,” she breathed. She stifled a shout of greeting as the white dragons slipped across the wind and dropped for the mountain. The massed warriors moved back to give them room, and the three came to rest in a furling of wings. Camery could feel Kiri’s silent cry, Papa! Oh, Papa!

Starpounder and Nightraider reared, nudging their sisters in greeting, fanning their wings over them, nearly smothering the bards. Kiri slid down and ran into Colewolf s arms, and clung close. The three dragonlings came dropping out of the sky, where they had been patrolling, to press around Iceflower, nudging and caressing her. Only Rockdrumlin was missing, as he carried Charkky and Mikk over Auric Palace.

Camery hugged Teb and held him, then pulled Marshy to her. She saw the two new children and reached to gather them in, but the red-haired boy moved away from her and stood alone, staring at Bluepiper.

As the dragonling stared at the boy, all whispering stopped.

Child and dragonling looked at each other for a long time, with the troops so still around them that Camery could hear Aven swallow. Suddenly Bluepiper snorted softly, bowed his neck, and pushed his face down at Aven. The little boy wrapped his arms around the dragonling’s blue, scaly nose. They remained so until Aven flung himself onto the dragonling’s back and leaned over, hugging Bluepiper and gulping back tears.

When he slipped down from Bluepiper’s back, it was to buckle on the harness Teb and Kiri had made. Quickly he mounted again, and Bluepiper leaped for the sky. Darba watched them with envy.

Kiri put her arm around Darba and drew her close. “I have no dragon, either,” she said. Darba looked up, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Nor has Windcaller a bard,” Kiri said. “Windcaller and I travel together, but we are not paired. You will travel with one of the dragonlings until you find your own dragon mate.”

The little girl looked incredulous; then joy spilled out in a bright smile. She grabbed Kiri, hugging wildly, her excitement sweeping them both. Kiri held her tight, and over Darba’s shoulder she saw Firemont looking. She beckoned to him.

The red-black dragonling came nuzzling, pushing at Darba with a sly look in his eye. Kiri showed Darba how to harness him. He sighed with pleasure as the little girl buckled on the soft leather. “You are beautiful,” Darba whispered.

“And you are the most beautiful of all possible girl children,” Firemont answered.

As Kiri gave the child a leg up, Firemont opened his wings and lifted away silently into the night. Soon they were lost in the blackness.

Teb had watched the child and dragonling—a stupid display of sentiment. He walked away by himself and stood looking morosely down the cliff where Sivich’s armies were hidden.

The moon shone across the top of the ridge, but it would leave Camery’s descent down the mountain in blackness. She had planned very well, he admitted crossly.

He was confused and puzzled by his own anger. Something was pulling at him, and had been ever since he had left Aquervell. He reached out to face it, irritated and very tired. He felt it quicken, and felt his interest in it quicken.

Kiri watched Teb, frowning, but when she went to join him, he moved away from her along the mountain rim. She stood staring after him, then turned away and went to stand with Papa. Colewolf put his arm around her. They stood looking down the cliff, where they could hear the occasional jingle of a halter chain and a muffled voice.

It was bad, in Aquervell, Colewolf said. Very bad for Tebriel.

Yes. Very bad.

You’re afraid for him.

She showed him what had happened to Teb.

He squeezed her shoulder, held her close. His solid warmth and his silent, reassuring thoughts strengthened her. Her father had great power. His silence—the muteness of his voice and the quiet of his nature— was deceptive. They stood for a long time, his spirit firm and undismayed. When they turned back, she felt stronger.

But Teb and Camery were standing beside an outcropping of boulders, arguing in harsh whispers, and Teb’s fury frightened Kiri anew.

Chapter 20

What horrors will Quazelzeg bring into Tirror? His power grows with each country he conquers, with each person he enslaves. And as it grows, it moves closer to my king and my children.

*

Teb faced Camery angrily. “We could destroy Sivich now! His troops are waiting below the cliff like sheep for slaughter. If we fire-dive the camp, stampede the horses, we can kill every man. What are you waiting for?”

“If we attack here,” Camery said, “Sivich and his captains will escape into the caves. We don’t know those caves and tunnels; this mountain is honeycombed with them.” She shook her head. “We’d kill only their soldiers, not the leaders. We’d kill all their soldiers, even those who could be saved.” She studied Teb, puzzled by his anger. “Once they’re out in the valley, we can surround them. We can begin the battle with dragon song—with visions that will free so many—to fight for us.”

Teb only looked at her coldly.

“We must free those soldiers who can be freed. We must give them a chance to turn on their masters.” She touched his cheek, seeking for warmth in his face, and saw only rage. When he turned away, she stared after him, perplexed and afraid. What was wrong with him? She saw Kiri in the shadows and went to her.

“What’s wrong? What happened in Aquervell?”

“Let me show you.”

The visions were powerful. When Kiri was finished, Camery was filled with Teb’s sickness. She watched his dark silhouette pacing the cliff and touched his thoughts—and recoiled.

“What shall I do?” she said sadly.

“Do just as you planned,” Kiri said. “Attack Sivich. Surely in battle Teb will come right. There . . . there’s nothing else we can do.”

Camery nodded, and pushed back her pale hair. “Come on. Colewolf and Marshy are doctoring Iceflower. I’ll feel better when I’m doing something—I can think better.” She took Kiri’s hand, and they went up over the moonlit rocks. Perhaps they both needed Colewolf s steady comforting.

He was brewing herbs to press against Iceflower’s wounds. Beside him, Marshy folded blankets for poultices. Iceflower lay quietly while Elmmira licked her torn flesh, cleaning it before the packs were laid on. The great cat reared against the young dragon and climbed over her with heavy, gentle paws. When Kiri and Camery began to soak the blankets and fold them over her wounds, Iceflower looked around at them with pleasure. “Warm,” she said. “So warm.” But then her eyes flashed with suspicion. “These wounds are only of the surface. You are not going to keep me from the battle? I am quite well enough to battle the dark armies. I am strong enough to kill a thousand dark soldiers.”