Dragon Strike

Page 62

“Kill you? NiVom, I’ll be happy to rescue you. Join us and help us bring down the Red Queen.”
“It’s impossible. She’ll see you coming. She’s always one step ahead. I wonder if she didn’t tell Imfamnia to come with me to this dirty hole and then flee at the first spine-scrape of the attack. I’m beginning to think she wanted me dead.”
“All the more reason to join us.”
“What are your conditions?”
“Only this. Once we are out of this hole and in the air, travel through Ghioz and warn the people that the vengeance of dragons is about to be visited upon them. Any who wish to surrender should mark their homes and barns and watercraft in some manner. Is there a common fabric color? Something bright we can see from the air, by daylight or good moonlight?”
NiVom considered the matter. “Better than that. The Ghioz are great consumers of white paint. They use it on all the inner walls of their buildings.”
“Paint? Oh, yes, of course, that color-splash. Yes, white paint will do. Have them mark the rooftop or at least the roofline to indicate their surrender.”
“Brave of you. I see why they made you Tyr. I might just fly away.”
“The NiVom who fought with me in Bant kept his word. If that dragon is gone, I’ll see to it that the renegade hiding in his body is killed as well.”
The Copper looked at him, hard, and NiVom gave a brief bow.
“I—I will see to it, my Tyr.”
He gave orders to the demen to let him go.
The demen led the Aerial Host to the surface. The Copper offered them their freedom when they saw naked daylight.
“You are welcome to any caves north of the Star Tunnel,” he said to Paskinix and the rest. “Or you may continue to live close to the river ring, but you must accept the Tyr’s word in the Tyr’s tunnel.”
“If the Tyr keeps word to us, he’ll find Paskinix a firm ally,” Paskinix said.
With that they departed back for the deeps.
The dragons waited until dusk.
NiVom left first. The Copper and HeBellereth and Aiy-Yip watched him fly off
“Oh, to spread my wings!” Aiy-Yip squawked.
“Tonight,” the Copper said.
“Why did you let him go?” HeBellereth said. “He may go to the Queen.”
“I don’t think so,” the Copper replied. “Watch behind him.”
A pair of roc-riders dropped out of the clouds and followed NiVom, all three fliers oddly dark against the night sky.
The Copper nodded. “As soon as we met him, I guessed the Red Queen would be having him watched. Had we killed him, at least one of that patrol would have lingered aboveground. They had Imfamnia to follow and now NiVom. I hope that is as many as they had waiting above these lands.”
“My Tyr is clever,” HeBellereth said.
“We shall see just how clever. If the Red Queen felt or saw a few-score demen coming, imagine what the approach of this multitude of dragons is to her. We may be in for a fight worthy of many a lifesong.”
“All the more reason to finish what’s left of the livestock, then,” HeBellereth said, and Aiy-Yip ruffled his feathers in agreement.
The dragons were in the sunlight. They’d need it to navigate their way to the Queen’s City—the mountains where it lay were a purple smear on the horizon.
He’d released Paskinix and his warriors, granting him this exit on the surface for as long as dragons breathed in the Lavadome for their use as a sun-mine (which had finally been explained to him—it simply meant an area used to grow crops, preferably fruit).
The dragons filed up and out of the old dwarfworks. They rested on a grassy hill somewhere at the north end of the rolling hills that started in the horsedowns.
“Now is the moment, dragons,” he said to the assembly.
“We were driven from Silverhigh and scattered. Then we were tempted to the Lavadome and enslaved. For generations we have hidden in fear of armies and assassins, egg-thieves and scale-gatherers. Our bones have been sold for medicines and our hearts have been burned for sacrifice to the totems of idiotic hominid gods.
“This is the last morning of dragonkind as we know it. Perhaps it will be a terrible last morning, a deathsong, a judgment where we match courage and brain and sinew against numberless adversaries who would reckon our destruction a boon.
“Or perhaps this is a new beginning for dragons, where we cease to let the world shape our destiny. If we see victory this day, we will become the shapers of the world and take our place in the sun, with generosity to our friends such as the griffaran and ferocity to our enemies.”
The Copper saw some of the dragons glancing about them, unsettled by the light and space of the Upper World, or perhaps fearful of roc-riders screaming from the clouds.
“I am sorry to have to ask this of my dragons, but I need a few dragons to remain here and guard this entrance to the Lower World. If matters go ill for us over Ghioz, what is left will probably be pursued on the way back. A few fresh dragons, firebladders full and ready to fight, may save many lives. No one will think the worse of any who answer my request to guard this tunnel-mouth.”
At that the doubtful eyes brightened. Four gave their names as willing to be the rearguard.
“Whichever way this next day goes, I am proud to have my share of it. Proud of our brothers, the griffaran. Proud to name myself as one who flew with HeBellereth, with CoTathanagar and NoFhyriticus and SiHazathant and Regalia.”
With that, they rose into the sky and formed two great arrowheads heading north, each dragon taking advantage of the wake of the dragon in front and in turn passing on the savings in effort to the one behind. The griffaran flew above and between, their long tailfeathers making them look like darts in a hail of arrows.
Arrows aimed at the heart of the Ghioz Empire.
The Copper noticed that they seemed to be following storm-clouds sweeping northeast.
“A storm on its way to Ghihar. It is good we’re behind that,” HeBellereth bellowed. “The air’ll ride easier.”
How fitting. A storm on wings would follow.
Chapter 24
They’d painted Natasatch using a sticky compound of dry clay, honey, dyes, and AuRon didn’t want to know what else. Whatever it was, it clung to scale like hide-ticks.
He circled his mate, surveying the result. Darker stripes ran down her sides. Once it dried they had her fly, circling higher and higher. Of course, she still had her glorious fringe running down her spine, but nothing could be done about that.
When he mentioned it, however, Natasatch began to worry at it with her teeth, trimming it down to the shorter, serrated length of a male. It broke AuRon’s heart to see his mate so disfigured, but it would grow back eventually.
“From afar, it doesn’t look too bad,” Naf said. “Her tail’s a little too long and too thick, but apart from that . . .”
The men cheered. According to Naf, the Dairuss loved a good trick played on enemies. They’d been a subject people for much of their history, under Anklamere, under the cruel Ironriders, and lately under Ghioz, and they had learned the value of the sly wit and clever trick that fools the harvest collector or the labor bondsman.
Naf’s whole camp crackled with excitement. For every man he accepted for the dangerous trip to Ghioz, he had to turn away three. Then he culled that group through contests and exhibitions of sport and strength, with Natasatch acting as judge. A rumor spread through camp that she could smell a hero born by the sweat of his skin.
“Show yourself every day,” AuRon told Natasatch. Eyes watching the rebel camp would be sure that Naf remained with his ally dragon. “Fly off to the west in the morning and return in the afternoon. They will think you are communicating with a Hypatian column.”
“Yes, yes, my lord,” she said, with the tone of exaggerated obedience she used to mock him. “Just show myself, and above all don’t start any fights with the big beaknoses. No matter how hungry I get for some fireroasted squab.”
They nuzzled each other, scratching behind the jawline with griff points.
“I suppose it’s no good asking you to be careful,” she said.
“You were the one who wanted to join in this war.”
“To form a bond of friendship that will last until our hatchlings have their wings,” she said.
He glanced around. “Men have short memories. But I would like to see this Queen struck down and Hieba safe with Naf, if she still lives.”
“And let us not forget a hoard this time. Glory and gallantry are all well and good, but our hatchlings need coin. Carry off all you can.”
“Yes, yes, of course. Naf will be generous, if this works.”
When Naf had his band selected and properly oathed to whatever gods men imagined in charge of such affairs, they removed to another camp a little east. From there, scouts set out to explore the trails and passes.
While in camp, they placed all their arms and shields in bags of netting running along AuRon’s sides and he tried a test flight. He could not even get off the ground and managed only a short glide until they relieved him of the burden of everyone’s chain shirts.