Robin Hobb: Blood of Dragons

IceFyre had been angry that the golden dragon directed his question to the blue queen, but Tintaglia had obviously been pleased. ‘The Six Duchies has long warred with Chalced. They will probably not care at all if we destroy that city. But as one who has fought a city alone, and far more recently than IceFyre, I will say that it was a task that was dangerous and yet became annoying. It takes a lot of venom to destroy ranked soldiers, and while one is smashing ships and towers, one is not hunting, eating or sleeping.’

IceFyre had drawn himself taller and taller as Tintaglia spoke. Beside the blue queen, Kalo rumbled ominously as the black dragon expressed his dominance. Now IceFyre broke in with, ‘And while humans are poisoning you or attacking you with nets and spears, are you eating or sleeping? Or dying?’

‘Which is better – a quick kill by snapping a neck, or a long battle that inflicts wounds on both combatants?’ she had retorted.

They flew over a fortified holding. It astonished her how quickly warning horns were sounded. They glanced back to see the walls bristling with armed men. The gates of the keep were open and six men on horseback bearing banners raced out.

Messengers , Tintaglia confirmed. But they will be too late.

In response, all the dragons picked up speed. Sintara heard the keepers calling to one another, their thin voices snatched away on the wind. Mercor had been leading them. Now IceFyre suddenly left off his rivalry with Kalo and winged past them all to try to take the lead from Mercor. Was he startled to see that Heeby and Rapskal had beaten him to it? The red queen and her rider arrowed to the front. Rapskal was leaning forward on Heeby’s neck, singing wild encouragement and praise to her. She had flushed a sparkling scarlet, and her wings opened and closed so swiftly that she was like a hummingbird flying with crows. She looked almost comical as she sped ahead of the others. As Relpda, overshadowed by evil little Spit, suddenly moved forward past both IceFyre and Mercor, the old black dragon trumpeted angrily.

As if that were a signal, all of the dragons suddenly roared, announcing their coming as they arrowed toward the fortified city on the hill.

‘Weren’t you all going to keep silent and take them by surprise?’ Sedric objected.

‘Don’t like Heeby in front of me,’ Relpda responded sulkily.

Sedric was crouched in the abbreviated dragon saddle that Relpda had insisted they use, holding tight with both hands to a harness ornamented with silver bells. Carson had added a harness of rawhide straps to the saddle and he trusted it, but he could not make himself loosen his grip on it. His eyes were squinted nearly shut and still tears streamed from them from the kiss of the wind. ‘We are in more danger here, my lovely one. Let us fall back and let the larger dragons lead the way.’

Spit trumpeted derisively. ‘Yes, listen to that skinny little flea on your back. Fall back and when they spit acid, you will fly through the cloud. Such fun for both of you.’

Sedric clamped his jaws tight shut, wondering if Spit spoke true or was once more delighting in tormenting Relpda. They were flying so fast that the landscape beneath them raced by sickeningly. There went a village, bells ringing and horns sounding warnings, and on a streamer of yellow road, a man leapt from his laden cart and raced off into a grain field, to fling himself flat as if that could hide him from the dragons overhead. They paid no mind to him. Farmsteads and hamlets surrounded Chalced the city. Sedric braced himself for the attack to begin. He did not want to be here, did not want to watch Relpda deal death to unsuspecting and helpless humans.

They would kill me if they could , she reminded him, and shame rose in him. Once he had been of that mind . Forgiven , she reminded him. But I cannot forgive those who would still take my blood and scales.

Below them, people ran about furiously, some taking shelter in houses, others racing out into the streets to see what was happening. Thin screams of terror rose into the cool morning air, and then the blaring of horns. The dragons trumpeted their own mocking response to the horns and then, so abruptly that Sedric gave a shout of surprise, the dragons tipped away from each other, dividing neatly into smaller groups and descending sharply. The screams of terrorized people reached him more clearly. For an instant, he shared that terror. Dragons were come, to spit fiery acid that would melt the flesh from their bones. Their houses would fall, any man who lifted a hand against them would certainly die, and their orphaned young would whimper and snivel in the deserted and smoking streets. There was nothing, nothing they could do to oppose the dragons, the great and glorious and beautiful dragons that were deserving of their obeisance and obedience. They should flee, flee, leave their houses and run out of the city; it was their only chance …

Oh. Not you. Relpda suddenly interrupted the daunting stream of emotion. Sedric felt muffled suddenly, his thoughts closed off from a flood of dragon glamour directed at those they overflew.

They circled the city in an ever-tightening spiral, bombarding the humans below with glamour. Horses, dogs, and even yoked oxen seemed as vulnerable, for Sedric saw them go suddenly mad with terror, bolting down the streets, headed out of the city, regardless of obstacles, living or otherwise, in their paths. New screams rose, more trumpets, bells rang wildly and he felt sick with horror to be a part of it. ‘I just want it to be over,’ he muttered to himself.

Soon , Relpda promised. Soon.

The soup was nearly gone. Chassim refilled their wine glasses. ‘The condemned are eating heartily,’ she observed.

In the near distance, a woman shrieked. A chorus of screams rose. ‘What is it?’ Selden endeavoured to rise, but she waved him back. She rose, a bit unsteadily and went to the balcony wall. ‘The streets are filling with people. They’re running. They’re pointing up, at us.’ She gazed down at them in consternation. Then she turned her head over her shoulder and gazed up. And gasped.

She turned, leaning so far back that Selden reached out and grasped her ankle. ‘Don’t fall!’ he commanded her. ‘Don’t go without me!’

She lifted her hand and pointed. ‘Dragons. A sky full of dragons.’

‘Help me up,’ he begged her. Then, as she continued to stare at the sky, he demanded breathlessly, ‘A blue queen. Do you see a blue queen dragon among them?’

‘I see a red dragon. And a silver and two orange ones. A queen?’

‘A female. Gloriously blue, with silver and black markings as well. Graceful as a butterfly, powerful as a striking hawk. Shaming the sky with her blueness.’

‘I don’t see any blue dragons.’

He pushed himself away from the cushions and onto his hands and knees. Not strong enough to crawl to the edge of the balcony, he slid and lifted his body until he was able to sprawl on the floor and look up at the sky. She was right. His dragon wasn’t there. ‘Not my dragon,’ he said, and hopelessness filled him.

The dragons swung in an arc past the Duke’s grand palace. They were coming lower. A small silver one trumpeted wildly, spraying venom with the sound. ‘Sweet Sa, no,’ Selden prayed. He had seen Tintaglia rain venom down on Bingtown when she had repelled the Chalcedean invaders. He had seen droplets strike men and an instant later, fall out the other sides of their bodies, followed by blood and guts. Nothing stopped it. He tried to find words to warn Chassim, and could not form them.

The silver dragon’s mist fell randomly, the droplets caught on the wind. Selden’s horrified gaze followed the silvery mist as it was wafted down and onto a statue in a garden. He did not hear the hiss, but he imagined it as the newly sprouted plants withered suddenly, turning to sodden brown heaps on the soil. A moment later, the statue collapsed in a gush of powder.