The Dragons of Sara Sara (52 page)

"Desare, you know as much about the dragons as I do it seems. Perhaps more so. I have no idea why they did not help."

Antonin was not altogether happy. Cinnabar had almost laid hold of Desare. It seemed at least half of the Wind Readers and their Guard Companions were dead. All of his friends were wounded, although alive thankfully.

Where was Mei'An? Had she survived? He looked toward the gathered Wind Readers.

"Mei'An?" He called hopefully. To his great relief she appeared, stepping to the front of the small group. "Yes, my Lord? You called?" Her voice was distant and cold. Antonin took a step back in surprise. He looked carefully at the faces. Mei'An's Guard Companion was missing.

"He is wounded. Badly. My Lord" Mei'An almost spat the words at Antonin. Before he could reply, Desare called to Mei'An.

"Go now to the garden of the Blue Tower. Hurry, all of you." Without another word, all of the Wind Readers, including Mei'An, simply winked out, like candles going out. Their Guard companions gone with them. Desare smiled a secret smile.

"She was about to argue with you my Lord, so I just sent them there. The Keeper will look after them all. They are hers, after all."

Antonin glanced at the others. They were all looking at Desare with their mouths hanging open. This little girl was revealing considerable power, and the twinkle in her eye said she enjoyed it.

With the Wind Readers gone, the vast chamber seemed suddenly oppressive, with its mounds of dead and its dimly lit recesses.

"Come, out into the light. Enough of this horror chamber." Antonin strode to the entrance and out onto the flagstones of the courtyard. He needed some rest. He was beginning to feel like he had been awake and without food for days. The others trailed after him, no less weary.

The old castle had been built on a rise in the valley floor. The valley itself was little but a muddy bog at present. The way was clear to the far wall, and the warriors so badly needed earlier could be seen making their way toward the castle across the boggy landscape. It would take them hours to reach the castle yet. The dragons still sat hunched on the battlements, watching the humans below through their reptilian eyes.

Edina, Elsa and the others found a clean pool and washed the blood and grime of battle from themselves. Desare stayed by Antonin's side. She could see he was troubled and tired. Antonin sat on some fallen masonry and rested his weary body against some moss covered statue. Desare wiped his face with a dampened cloth torn from the hem of her dress.

"Rest, my Lord. The others will be here before night fall. They bring food and shelter, as well as warm clothing. Perhaps a small fire will help to dispel the cold of these stones."

Desare moved away a little and reached out her hand. A flame danced just above her palm, and she carefully put it down to the flagstone at her feet. It grew in size before everyone's astonished eyes until it was the size of a good campfire. There was no doubt there was heat in it. The stones began to sizzle and steam as they heated. There was nothing to burn in this soggy landscape, but the flames danced and crackled merrily as though fed with dry kindling. Desare smiled with satisfaction. "Mother would be proud of me now." She murmured to herself. Everyone, including Antonin, came to stand around the fire and warmed themselves. The day was indeed growing colder.

Antonin tried to plan what needed doing. It was difficult though. So much had happened. It did seem that Cinnabar and his Morgoth warriors had been defeated for now. Cinnabar had certainly been terribly wounded, although Antonin had no idea of the Morgoth physical structure, so did not know if the wound was fatal. It would have been better to see Cinnabar dead, but surely he had been badly wounded. A sword thrust through the chest was enough to stop any man or beast. His army had been destroyed, so any new threat from him was likely to be a long time coming. If in fact he had even survived.

Still, Antonin mused, they were no closer to regaining the Keystone. He had no idea where it was, except for the vague notion that the Tharsians had taken it into their forest home. The Dark One might win yet. The Great Wheel of Sara Sara still moved. Antonin was sure that if he listened carefully he could hear it grinding the rock in its slow passage.

Warmed and restored by the fire, and with a little dried beef in him thanks to the well prepared warriors, Antonin climbed the stairs set in the wall up to the top. The picture he saw shocked him. More or less confined to the throne room, he had no idea of the scale of the battle. The entire castle grounds were littered with the bodies of Morgoth warriors, even out in the boggy ground surrounding the outer walls. Antonin noted grimly that not all of the bodies were Morgoth. He returned rapidly to the courtyard.

"We must bring in our fallen companions immediately, and see to the proper rites for them. Come now, no time yet to mourn their loss."

Quickly they organised into pairs and began moving through the castle and grounds, struggling back with the bodies of their companions. They were laid in rows in the courtyard, and Antonin grew oppressed at their growing number. Finally no more could be found. Only the Morgoth were left. Antonin could not think what to do with them, but they could not be left to rot or the smell itself would be enough to kill off remaining life. One of the dragons perched on the roof of a tower dislodged a roof tile. It crashed into the courtyard, making everyone jump. Suddenly Antonin knew how to get rid of the dead Morgoth.

Somehow, he would command these beasts to do his will. The sun was setting behind the high mountain walls, and already the vast castle was falling into deep shadow. The Morgoth battle had been won with the help of the Wind Readers and their Companions at terrible cost. The few warriors who had accompanied Antonin and his companions in the shift from the cave had fared a little better, but even an unacceptable number of them had been lost. Antonin stood by the fire, still burning it's invisible kindling.

"My friends, With your help we have won a decisive victory over the dark forces today. I have decided. We will regroup here. The castle will be cleaned and rebuilt. The plains roundabout will soon be covered again with grass and trees. When we are healed. When we are ready, we will take on the Tharsians, return the Keystone, and end this constant struggle forever." He looked up at the darkening sky. A few dragons circled in the high winds.

"Tomorrow, I will bend the dragons to my will."

With the setting sun glimmering its last rays over the peaks, the first of the mud spattered warriors struggled into the castle grounds. With them eventually came kindling, furs, food and all the trappings of camp life. The vast courtyard held their increasing numbers easily, and soon there were open camps and fires springing up all over the stone courtyard. A wide berth was being given to the fire that warmed Antonin and his friends. Soon a tent with open sides had been erected, the supporting pegs driven into the cracks between the stones. The stone, now dry and warm from the fire soon had rugs and cushions for Antonin and his friends. As the camps were set up, the bodies of the Morgoth were being moved outside the walls of the castle. Nobody made camp near the neat rows of fallen companions.

The pack animals had arrived almost with the first warriors. Rees and Gaul looked at the trappings of their camp tent with some alarm. It looked very much like the camp of royalty. Antonin rested on the cushions on his side, cradling his head in the cup of his hand. He looked at the surrounding people. They accepted him without question, although they continued to give his fire a wide berth, and Desare alike. The word had soon spread that it was the doing of Desare. That slip of a girl in peasants dress who sat cross legged by Antonin's side. There was no formality from the warriors of the Star Field Plain. More from those who had come from the city in search of adventure. The warriors of the plain were proud and aloof. They had no fear, and gave way to no one. They fought if they wished, not if they were commanded. Antonin might be a Lord, but not one of them considered him their Lord.

The warriors of the city were less sure of themselves. They were used to being commanded, and they dressed in full armour and carried weapons that had not been seen by the plains men and women.

Rees noticed that they mingled happily enough. Sharing fires and ground sheets with little comment. they were all subdued. They had all seen the rows of bodies. The dead Morgoth. The dragons in the high places. They knew the dragons had not taken part in the battle, yet all the Morgoth were dead. Thousands of them. There were hundreds of Wind Readers and their Guard Companions, along with Star Field Plains warriors in the rows of dead. Not enough to have won so great a battle though. Many a mind did the sums, and uncertain eyes weighed up the young man called Antonin and his half dozen silent companions.

Tomorrow, Antonin decided, the bodies of the Morgoth would be taken a few miles downwind from the castle and wood collected from the surrounding hills. There they would be burnt. The bodies of their friends would be given proper burial according their rites. Work would also begin on restoring the castle. It needed to be made habitable again. Perhaps it would provide a good means of increased trade for Nareena's distant city, although it still seemed that it was referred to as a village. It certainly seemed like half of that village was here at the castle. Even Antonin's horses, along with the others was here. Still the warriors streamed in out of the darkness. The entire force that had arrived from the Star Field Plain was arriving. The castle was slowly filling with people. Even the sprawling courtyard was not big enough to hold them all, as well as the animals, and the adjoining courtyards and halls began to fill as well. No one wanted to venture down to the lower levels just yet. The sun had long since set, yet still they arrived. Scattered in small groups among these late arrivals were people who were obviously not warriors. Women in small groups, their long skirts tied up to their knees out of the mud and carrying bags, older men in clothes that spoke of various trade crafts, and a number of older children with eyes as big as owls, astonished at the things they were seeing.

Rees and Gaul talked quietly together. Elsa, Edina and Catharina sat near Desare and silent hand talk flicked between them. Hardly moving, just flicking their fingers, bringing the occasional smile. There was no doubt that Rees, Gaul and Antonin were the subject, but none of the men would be drawn.

Rees spoke up to Antonin.

"Antonin, my friend. May I speak?"

Antonin looked up in surprise.

"Of course. Why are you asking? You are my friend. I hope still after today. Do not ask permission of me. What is it? believe me, I need your advice."

"Well Antonin. It will take many months to make this place liveable. It may take years to make the valley fertile again. Can we wait so long while we know that the Wheel still moves?"

Antonin was silent for long moments.

"We must wait here at least a while I think. At least until this place is rebuilt and seen again as the home of the Lord of the Dragon Armies. Not my home. My home is on the plains. But the Lord of the Morning must live here. Yes. We must wait. I need everyone here. I need those dragons. I do not want any of my friends ever hurt in battle again."

"Antonin," said Gaul. "You know that is not possible. In battle, friends are lost."

"Not my friends!" Shouted Antonin and smashed his fist on the flagstones. The ground rumbled deeply, and the dragons rose screeching into the night sky. The fierce look on Antonin's face caused his friends to back away slightly.

'Could this be affecting my friend Antonin?' Thought Rees. He turned to Catharina, still watching Antonin through lowered eye lashes. Antonin was staring into the distance, a distracted air about him.

"Catharina," whispered Rees. "What's happening to Antonin do you think?"

Catharina reclined back onto one elbow, turning away from Antonin as she did so. Quietly she replied. "I don't know Rees. I really don't know, but it worries me. I think perhaps he needs some rest is all." She didn't sound at all confident though. Suddenly she sprang to her feet. Lightning fast, as graceful as a cat, Catharina quickly moved out into the surrounding camps. Stopping here, stopping there for a word, with other Maidens simply some flickering hand talk. There was as subdued flurry of activity, and within minutes there was a slaughtered goat being roasted on the spit of Antonin's fire. An iron pot of vegetable stew began to bubble, and a barrel of ale appeared from somewhere. Just within the entrance to the great throne room where they had made camp, the smoke hung in a cloud up on the high ceiling and funnelled out of the high windows, the glass long since gone. The smell of roast meat and steaming vegetables slowly brought Antonin back from his wandering thoughts. His stomach rumbled loudly. Heads turned in his direction. Antonin sat up in surprise, just as Edina casually passed him a dripping piece of meat impaled on one of her arrows. It wasn't until he stopped eating a good while later, and having emptied more than one tankard of ale, that he recalled just how hungry he had been. The others had made short work of their portions as well, and everyone felt much better. A small pile of bones and scraps by his side attested to it. His ale mug brimming again, he began to settle back in comfort now and take in his surroundings. With a start he saw that that there was a young child kneeling by his cushions keeping his mug full. Another had removed his food scraps. Yet another was busy arranging the rugs and cushions about his person.

With a start he sat bolt upright.

"Stop!" He roared. The entire building fell silent. Nothing moved but the dust motes in the air.

Desare moved over and knelt by Antonin's side. She knew what was wrong.

"Antonin, you are the Lord of the Morning. You are a King. The King. It is expected. People will be offended if you refuse them." She spoke very quietly, but there was a strength in her voice that Antonin had not heard before.

"People look to you as their leader now, and in helping you as best they can, even if only to serve you, they feel that they are contributing and aiding you in the quest." She paused, and looked squarely at Antonin, deep into his gaze. Softly she spoke. "We are not all warriors my dearest Antonin."