A Sword for a Dragon (32 page)

Relkin and Bazil knew what that must mean. The siege of the great city had begun, and they were outside the walls, alone, behind enemy lines.

“We are south of the city,” said Relkin.

“Then we can swim again.”

“Upstream?”

“We have no choice.”

The news went out at the beginning of the evening watch. The broketail dragon and his boy had come back safe and sound. Naturally, they had a wild tale to tell of some harrowing adventures involving the beautiful priestesses of the goddess Gingo-La. Everyone wanted to hear the details of that one!

Celebrations began at once. The legions were in need of something to celebrate, since they were now under siege and it looked like the siege would soon become a trial of strength.

Beer was released from the Imperial cellars, fires were lit by each regiment, and the songs of the Argonath were sung with gusto by men, women, and dragons alike.

The 109th dragons were especially jubilant. The loss of the broketail had been a serious blow to morale. To the younger wyverns, the broketail was a living legend and a source of inspiration. They were intensely proud to be serving alongside him, and had been much downcast when it appeared that he was gone forever.

As for the Purple Green, he had been hell on an eggshell ever since they’d learned of Bazil’s disappearance. Everyone, dragoneers and dragons alike, had tiptoed around him. No dragonboy had dared go near him, although he had broken scales and a split talon. The news of their return was almost enough to make him fly again. His great wings unfurled and flapped mightily while he roared his challenge call. People dived for cover and several complained of ringing in the ears for hours after.

But that evening the wild one timed his arrival perfectly. Even as he finally took his place in the welcome line, the Broketail appeared with Relkin riding on his shoulders.

Cheers rang off the walls. The wyverns roared their welcome, and the Purple Green stepped out to clasp forepaws with Bazil.

“Welcome back, broken-tailed friend.”

“You thought you’d seen the last of this dragon.”

“They say you swam across river.”

“Of course, it is not hard to swim.”

The Purple Green roared at this thought.

“You wyverns are a weird lot. Dragons don’t swim, they fly.”

“Men say that sea monsters were the mothers of wyvern kind. Of course, men say many things.”

“Men say too many things, by the roar of the old gods it is true.”

But Baz had something else on his mind right then.

“Is that beer I smell?”

“Plenty of beer. Delivered in time to honor your return.” Dragoneer Hatlin spoke up from among a mob of dragons. “And we’re ready to broach it, too.”

Bazil gave a ponderous salute. Relkin dismounted.

“Dragoneer Relkin and the broketail dragon reporting, sir!”

“At ease, Dragoneer, and welcome back. You seem to have gotten into the thick of it again without any help from us.”

“Well, there were these beautiful priestesses, and they were going to sacrifice us, but I persuaded one of them to unlock my irons, and, then, well…”

Hatlin held up a hand. “Uh oh, I don’t think I want to hear the rest of this.”

“Oh wonderful,” sneered Swane of Revenant. “While we’ve been sitting here getting by on semolina and water, you’ve been wining and dining with a bunch of priestesses.”

“Cut it Swane,” said Tomas Black Eye.

Bazil leaned over toward Hatlin. “This dragon has had nothing to eat for days. What have we got?”

“I think the cooks anticipated your arrival. They had a boil, there’s hot semolina and some roasted roots. We’re under siege now. Supply is getting more difficult. But we do have beer, plenty of it. The emperor opened his cellars for us. He didn’t want to, but I guess he had no choice.”

“Lead the way, this is one thirsty dragon.”

A cheer went up as the young dragons hoisted him to shoulder height and bore him in to the fireside. A roar came from the rest of the Eighth Regiment, and somebody gave him a pail of the emperor’s best lager. He toasted them, and they saluted him back.

And thus it went, and something of a wild party took place behind the walls of the besieged city of Ourdh, causing confusion in the ranks of the vast army that surrounded the walls. The sounds of merriment, and of singing and drumming echoed off the walls and the towers along the Argonath sector by the Fatan Gate.

But after eating as much semolina and akh as he could stand, the dragon grew weary. After downing a keg of beer, he fell asleep, suddenly and irrevocably.

Vlok took his arms, the Purple Green took his legs, and they carried him back to the 109th’s lines, which were set up just inside the Fatan Gate. Relkin saw his charge laid out and made a swift inspection. He winced at the sight of all the bruises, and most seriously there was the cut where the guard’s sword had slashed Bazil’s flank. Relkin took up swab and disinfectant, scaling knife and probe.

As for Lagdalen of the Tarcho, she was not present at the celebrations. As an officer of the Insight, she had duties to attend to. She went directly from the riverside, to the house of the Merchant Irhan. There she found Irhan in mourning. The Lady Inula had not returned from the Isle of Gingo-La.

Fending off the merchant’s queries as to where she had been and what had happened, Lagdalen inquired after the Lady Ribela. Irhan sent her to the Imperial Palace at once in his carriage.

At the Imperial Palace, she was conducted to the quarters occupied by the Great Witch Ribela, a suite right beside the emperor’s own personal apartment in the Grand Palace.

Ribela welcomed her back with little emotion. She waved away Lagdalen’s apologies concerning her disappearance during the spell saying.

“That was not your fault, child. That was treachery at work in the house of the merchant.”

Carefully, omitting nothing of importance, Lagdalen recounted the events of the past few days. Ribela listened closely, and when Lagdalen had finished drew her hands together.

“Excellent, my dear. I am greatly relieved to see you alive and well. You have brought back some important information. And now I suggest that you go down the passage to your bedroom. You have now suffered direct experience of alien fanaticism in the matter of religion. You need to rest.”

Surprised, but grateful, Lagdalen made her way to the room down a corridor tiled in marvelous blue and white patterns and entered the designated room. There, to her incredulous delight, she found her husband waiting for her.

“A miracle,” she said. “The lady?”

“And General Paxion. They said it would be alright for us to be together, at least for one night.”

“Oh, my husband,” she relaxed in the strength of his arms.

It was a miracle. Together, they did their best to make up for all the time they had been apart. He was radiant, she ecstatic. There was even news from Marneri, including a note from Wessary, baby Laminna’s wet nurse. The babe was well and had hardly even been sick a day since her mother had sailed away.

And now the darkness that had engulfed her for so long was suddenly broken. Lagdalen could almost allow herself to relax into a perfect spell of happiness. But the pain of her absence from her baby broke through the spell. Every so often it would grow to be too much, and she would weep softly.

For his part, Hollein held his young wife close through the precious night hours. He did his best to comfort her. He himself was too overjoyed to sleep. These past few days had been a nightmare as he waited to hear some word, some fragment of news concerning Lagdalen’s whereabouts. And now he had her back, and she was well and sound. It really did seem like a miracle. He promised to contribute to the Temple as soon as he was back in Marneri. The Great Mother had been looking after him and his.

And he had to hope that she would continue to do so. Truth to tell, he was getting just a little anxious himself. The enemy had been building dozens of siege towers and was readying for a massive attack. From what he’d heard General Paxion say, he knew that there would be no reinforcement for weeks. Nor would there be much resupply. The river pirates had cut off grain shipments, and the people left in the city were fast using up the available supplies. All in all they were going to be pressed to hold out for more than ten days let alone two or three weeks. A month would have them eating the city’s rats and rationing the dragons to bare subsistence.

And by the way the enemy was preparing, it was possible they wouldn’t even last that long. The walls were miles long, and they were too few to man them in strength. The citizenry showed a surprising lack of interest in this problem. The enemy knew this and planned to build so many siege towers that they would overwhelm the defenders by dozens of simultaneous attacks. It was going to be hard to deny them success.

And while the young captain mulled these concerns, reunited in tender matrimony by special dispensation from a Great Witch and a general, that same general and great Witch were engaged in earnest conversation about much the same topics just a few rooms away.

“The emperor?” asked Paxion.

“Under sedation again. Since the disappearance of the Princess Zettila, he has become depressive and prone to fits of nervous anxiety.”

“I must impress on him once again that we have to have better supplies of food and water for the men. He keeps entrusting this to his grain factors, and they steal us blind. About one third of the flour ration is being stolen. This has to stop.”

Ribela nodded gravely. “Of course. But remember that this man is weak, long governed by eunuchs. Without the Princess Zettila to share his plotting, he is listless, devoid of energy. It is hard to move him to do anything.”

“But he is protected against the charms and snares of the enemy, is he not?”

“With the aid of your weather witch, I have constructed some defenses.” Ribela sounded slightly annoyed.

“So it cannot be some subtle attack on the emperor then?”

“I have kept watch over him for several days now. There was a small spell. He had been infected with irrational fear of the enemy, a terror of Sephis. So strong was the fear that he could not face it to even protect himself from the threat. We have lifted that spell.”

Paxion grimaced at the thought, Ribela continued, “However he is still dazed from the aftereffects, and it is hard to get through to him.”

“Astonishing that the enemy could have gotten so close to the emperor.”

“Not so surprising I am afraid, given the emperor’s sexual proclivities. However, we have discovered the eunuch that had taken the emperor’s blood and hair. We questioned him closely. The man swears he was alone. I do not yet know whether to believe him. We will continue to question him until we are satisfied.”

Paxion whistled at the thought of that questioning.

“I am glad that you are here to guide the emperor, lady. I hate to think what our situation would be without you.”

Ribela allowed a faint smile to show.

“And yet our situation is none too good even with me here, now is it?”

“Alas, no it is not. The loss of General Hektor has gravely weakened us.”

Hektor’s comatose body remained in the surgeon’s tent. Ribela had visited the poisoned general and had done her best to alleviate the condition, but still the coma could not be broken. Coma was notoriously tricky.

“You are in command now, General.”

Paxion smiled grimly. “Unfortunately, as you know, my right to command is challenged by General Pekel. I have not been a field commander for many years. Pekel thinks I should not be here. Sometimes I think I agree with him.”

“Excuses, General?”

“If you like, but the Kadeini would not continue with Hektor’s plan without Hektor to make them. They would not follow me to Dzu.”

“A great pity. It would have been relatively easy then to destroy the thing. Now I fear it will be far more difficult. The enemy has vast numbers and considerable energy, and is about to test our defenses.”

“They are building thirty-six siege towers, lady. Many of them by the East Gate. The wall north of the gate is weak, and they have a ram there that is making progress. I expect a breach within a day or so.”

“What pattern of attack do you expect?”

“Simultaneous, wherever they can wheel one of those towers up to the walls. They have tremendous numbers, and all they need to do is to overwhelm us. We will be running from place to place to counter them.”

“The Imperial Guards? Will they fight well?”

“Yes, I think so. Their morale seems very high right now. They tell me that it is because the emperor cannot desert them this time.”

Ribela’s stern face broke into a faint, wintry smile.

“Well, they are right about that. Banwi Shogemessar has nowhere to go. And for us, there will be reinforcements. But it will take time. As for the grain factors, I wonder if it is not time for us to move against them and take control of the grain supply ourselves?”

“Attack the Ourdhi guards?”

“We will approach General Knazud. I think he will prove cooperative.”

“Well, that would be a step in the right direction. If we can get grain enough, then we can feed the men properly.”

“Well, it can be done. After all, we opened the emperor’s cellars did we not?”

Paxion chuckled. “This night will be good for morale. Especially with a hard fight coming up.”

“And, General, there will be reinforcement and re-supply. I had word in the past hour from Cunfshon.”

“What can we expect? This will really lift the men’s hearts.”

“Well, it will not be immediate. It will take two weeks, perhaps three.”

Paxion’s face fell.

“A legion from Cunfshon is coming and a fleet with enough supplies to last us for months.”

“This is good news, indeed. If we can survive the coming test of strength, then perhaps we will have a chance in the long haul. But for that, we must have better rations for the dragons. Their metabolisms are so intense that they must eat to keep up their strength.”

“We will seize the granaries, and the dragons will be fed. I expect that once we get rid of the factors, there will be an adequate supply. We will talk to General Knazud today.”