The Dragons of Sara Sara (8 page)

Rees was set to run. His eyes were like saucers in his face. He daren't take his eyes from the grizzled warrior only a spears length away from him. Rees still gripped the sword. He would never let it fall. His father had given it to him, with just a wink when Rees had asked what his mother would say. He kept it in the stable from then on. He knew his father had fought for the Queen in times past and this had been his weapon. It was marked with the strange stick like script that told all that the sword belonged to a blade master.

Rees stood rooted to the ground, wishing he was a Song Wood tree. To run would be to shame himself forever in his own eyes. He had no idea how he should react to one of these mysterious men.

“Close your mouth boy. The flies will find rest enough in other shade.”

Rees snapped his mouth shut. Red slowly crept up his face to the roots of his hair.

“Who did you steal the blade from child? For it is certain that you are no blade master. The Song Wood tree can tell me that.”

Was that a hint of mirth in the man's words? Rees could swear that the man was laughing at his expense, but his face was like stone and the black eyes glittered like obsidian from the slopes of Sara Sara.

“I… my father gave me this sword. He was – is a blade master in the Queens service. During the Mordos Wars.” Rees managed to stammer. “Curse my hide,” he thought. “What am I doing? Do I not look fool enough?”

Straightening, he continued. “I wished to join the Asha Altan, but my father needs me to help him. He was injured during the wars and now finds some work impossible. He gave me his sword and for him I will learn to use it.” Rees swallowed. “… And I'm not a child.” He added with a touch of defiance in his voice.

“No, you are not. You hold a blade master's sword and had I been from another sept, or the Forests of Gloom perhaps, you might now be dead where you stand.” The Asha Altan looked Rees up and down. Not a glimmer of expression told Rees what he could be thinking. What should he do. "Should I turn and leave?” thought Rees, swallowing under the scrutiny.

"So,” said the warrior. “We had better make sure that you can protect your family as well as work for them. I will train you myself.” The Asha Altan took a step closer. “Learn to control your mouth. It's hanging open again boy.”

This time Rees was certain he caught a flicker of a smile on the man's mouth. He was enjoying Rees's discomfit he was sure.

So began Rees's training. The old warrior, Jardine of the Asha Altan, of the Stone Lion sept, oldest of the Asha Altan, holder of the Seat, met Rees every day beneath the Song Wood tree and trained him until he fell in exhaustion at the old warriors feet.

“You have much to learn boy. Be here at the same time tomorrow.” So saying he would walk away down the dry creek bed. Rees came every day. Jardine had told him early in his training that if he missed one day, he would not see the old warrior again. Commitment was the first duty of a warrior.

Rees learned quickly. Jardine trained him in all the weapons including the short killing spear, but Rees excelled with the sword and the axe. Try as he might though, he could not make Jardine even raise a sweat. It was frustrating, and not a little frightening. Rees knew he was good now. Jardine even admitted it. How good he had to be to get Jardine on the defensive though he could not even guess at. The man just didn't appear to be even exerting himself. Rees did notice though that Jardine had stopped calling him “boy”.

One day Rees turned up at the Song Wood tree and waited. Jardine never came and Rees never saw him again. He wanted to thank the man and had sought out Riadia. When Rees told Riadia what had been happening she plainly did not believe him. Until he calmly took down a short hafted spear from the guest room wall and pinned the flapping apron of a passing servant to the timber post by her side.

“Jardine taught me.” He declared flatly. “I would thank him.” Rees ignored the Mare Altan now on their toes, some with arrows nocked in short bows.

“That was a very foolish thing to do boy.” Said Riadia.

“Jardine stopped calling me boy three months gone.” Quietly replied Rees.

Riadia walked to the door post, signalling to the others to relax.

“Then you are truly a man it seems, and a warrior.” She said with a slight grin to the other women in the room. Some whispered to each other, laughter evident in their eyes. All except their serving girl, still struggling to get the spear out of the post and unpin her apron.

“He will know of your thanks Rees. I apologise for doubting your word. I should have known better. I have a debt to you. I will not forget.”

She pulled the spear loose from the door and the serving girl fled. Riadia walked out leaving Rees facing the now speculative looks – raised eyebrows – of the gathered Mare Altan. He had seen that look on girls before, and fled the room as fast as dignity would allow him.

Now he rode out on his own to one side of this friend Antonin, lost in his own thoughts. The entire party was making good time in their journey away from the village. Slowly swinging North East if Antonin knew his senses to be correct. He brought his focus back to the present. This was no time for day dreaming. Questions of what was, what could be and what might be would be answered as surely as the Great Wheel now turned. What his part in all this was he gave up trying to fathom.

Unconsciously he counted off those around him. Mei'An and Luan in the lead. Edina and Elsa with Catharina slightly back from them. A little further out to the right was… Who was that. Gaul was on his left, Rees on his right, none behind as he swivelled in his saddle to look. It looked a little like another Mare Altan but he could not be sure. Whoever it was however was a little ahead of Rees. Rees was all but invisible out in the starlight, horses barely raising dust with their steady pace. Antonin swept down with his fingers to the ground as he walked his horse and scooped up some small pebbles. There weren't many, but the plain was peppered with pea sized little stones of a reddish colour. He didn't want to cause alarm at this stage, but if he could get Rees's attention and point out the unknown rider, they might just be able to flank the person and get close enough to ask questions. There would be no point in raising an alarm and scattering everyone in a mad chase across the dark plain. Antonin began flicking the pebbles at Rees. “Was he asleep in his saddle?” thought Antonin. After a few direct hits Rees finally looked over at Antonin. He could barely see Antonin but he knew his hand signals meant “Quiet, game ahead.” They had spent long hours hunting together. Gaul had been looking in Antonin's direction and had caught the hand signals although he could not see Rees, nor any game that might be ahead.

“What was Antonin talking about?” He muttered under his breath. He could not see the outrider. Rees had no such trouble. The rider was only a few lengths ahead of him. Gaul dropped back to come around behind Antonin slowly. He didn't want to startle anyone or anything, and would come up on the far side of Rees. Suddenly there was a shout from back in the darkness and a clash of steel. In that instant the unknown rider wheeled his horse in toward the three Mare Altan, Catharina in the middle of the group. The shout from the rear by Gaul had brought everyone's head around except for Antonin and Rees. They had their quarry marked and the rider had only moved a few steps when he stood in the stirrups with a cry. The point of a spear appearing in his chest. Barely had he cried out when it was cut off with a gurgle as a broad head arrow tore through his throat. He pitched from his horse, dead before he hit the ground. Antonin and Rees wheeled back to the sounds of battle behind them. Antonin could not see the battle yet, but he could surely hear it. He thought of the raven he had seen in the night as they left the village. Gaul was out in the darkness facing who knew what. Rees appeared beside him as they raced toward the noise of the fray. Luan flashed past them like a dark shadow and the three Mare Altan had left their horses already. They preferred to fight on foot. They had actually disappeared into the gloom ahead of Luan. The starlight was not enough to show more than moving dark shadows. Suddenly a pale ball of light appeared in the sky above the plain. Mei'An was not a warrior but she could do her part. They had only moments to realize they were facing Tharsians. The warriors of Mordos. These warriors were like nothing else in the world. Huge, green hide beasts that knew only killing as a way of life. There didn't seem to be many. Half a dozen at most. They seemed a little disorganised. Perhaps that had been their leader that Antonin and Rees had brought down. Perhaps they had been taken by surprise when Gaul had turned back and stumbled into them. Either way it didn't matter now. They were huge beasts. Twice the height of a man and their green hide was like armour. The only sure way to kill them was through an eye or under their bony breast plate. They were not built like mortal men. The Tharsians were on the defensive now. Gaul had given a good account of himself even in the dark. Two of the Tharsians were already dead on the ground. Luan was dispatching another and the three Mare Altan were actually laughing as they took on one each. There were two trying to get around behind Luan, and Antonin and Rees raced to the attack. Rees had indeed been well trained. Antonin cold only gape in wonder as his friend took on both, and within moments they lay dead on the ground. Rees's axe was still whistling through the air as a gory green head rolled almost at Antonin's feet. An arrow loosed by Antonin did little harm to the other but the broad sword driven hard up into its chest brought it to a surprised stop. It's eyes rolled upwards and Rees pulled his sword out as it toppled backwards to crash onto the ground. Antonin was surprised, but not distracted. His next arrow found it's mark. A Catharsis fell bellowing with an arrow through its eye. It was dead in moments, thrashing about on the grassy plain to the last. The girls of the Mare Altan seemed to be having sport with their opponents, darting away from their sword thrusts and nipping in to draw blood with spear points before leaping back out of reach. They were the only Tharsians left standing.

“Finish it.” Demanded Mei'An in a voice amplified by The Power. In the blink of an eye the last three Tharsians fell, the short killing spears of the maidens deep in their hearts. Mei'An's voice rolled away across the plain. The light she had held aloft winked out. It had not been bright. Just a glow really like a small moon. The night vision of the group had not been marred.

“Be assured,” said Mei'An “That small group will have friends.

Luan was wiping his blade on the clothing of one of the fallen.

“We do not want to face a larger party. This must have been a scouting party.”

“Let us look at the one who tried to get at the girls.” Said Rees. They made their way back to where the person lay. Mei'An lit a small glowing orb, held close to her and low. Just enough to light the body in front of them. He had straight jet black hair, and almond shaped tilted eyes. His nose had a very low bridge like those people who lived in the extreme cold regions far to the north and east. Further even that the great desert wastes north of the Dragon Spine Mountains. He was not very tall. Little more than the size of a boy really. Mei'An was quiet for a moment.

“This man was from Hua Guo. A great pity he is dead.” She said. “Perhaps he could have told us much. He was probably a slave of the Tharsians even so.”

Mei'An pointed to the ugly brand burnt into his cheek. There was a thin leather cord around his neck, with a small kid pouch attached. It was tucked into his shirt. Mei'An cut it loose with her belt knife. There was small hexagonal disk inside, made of silver and worked with a stylised script that Rees recognised as similar to the ancient characters engraved on his sword.

“His family insignia I think.” Mused Mei'An. “I will keep it. Perhaps we can locate where he is from with some study of its markings.”

Luan stood from where he had been squatting. “Perhaps we should be gone from this place. The battle sounds would have carried and the lights would have been visible out here for many miles.”

The now silent group began to remount, and getting their bearings, moved off on their original path. Their pace quickened to a fast trot when they heard the thin sounds of a Catharsis hunting horn being blown far away behind them. Another sounded away to their right. Another to their left. It sounded much too close. Tharsians were on the Star Field Plain in large numbers. Three or four hunting packs together were unheard of. Something or someone must be driving them. The warriors of the village would be capable of defending the population. It was well that everyone from the surrounding districts had already moved into the village. Antonin still looked back with a worried frown on his face all the same. His family and friends were back there.

Antonin rode up alongside Catharina. “I hope, if nothing else, we have drawn them away from the village, Catharina,” he said.“But where are we headed I would like to know? A flight north to nowhere seems an unlikely move to me.”

Mei'An spoke without turning around. “When we can we will halt to rest, and I will make clear what we must do to begin the search. We must first clear this area as quickly as we can. Be'lal knows we are on the move.”

Catharina's eyes opened wide in alarm. “Mei'An – No!” she cried. “Do not use his name.” The alarm was clear in her voice. As if in response to the call to his name, a distant rumble filled the night air and a deep red glow flickered away over the horizon in the direction of Sara Sara. Moments later a sharp wind howled down upon them. Dust, bushes, bits of loose foliage and even small grains of sand and pebbles became airborne. The riders were buffeted by the wind and stung by the sand and pebbles. The horses lunged forward in fear, almost unseating more than one of the party.

“Give them their heads,” cried Catharina. “We will run before the wind.”

The wind was howling across the plain in the direction that they had been travelling. All traces of their passage was being blown away.

Their scent trail was being whipped away in the storm. “The trailing Tharsians would not follow us now,” thought Antonin. Unwittingly the Dark Lord was helping them.

The group pounded through the darkness, stung by flying sand and thorn bushes. The horses were running in fear. Eyes wide and foaming at the mouth, long streamers whipping away in the wind. They were good horses, but this pace would kill them if kept up for too long. They could not stop though. Not here. There was no shelter from the wind that raged about them, scouring the dusty plain. There was a danger that they would become separated so they rode bunched together, almost knee to knee. Those ahead hearing the stertorous breathing of the horses whose heads loomed almost at their shoulders. Hour after hour they rode on until both horses and riders began to show signs of stress. The wind never let up, but a horse would falter or stumble. A rider would start to slip from the saddle and have difficulty regaining balance. With strips of cloth wound around their heads to keep out the dust, they helped each other where they could.

Finally Rees shouted to those next to him. “We must stop. The horses,” his words were whipped away in the shrieking wind. “ Will fall and kill us all.” With his arms waving he attracted the attention of all the others finally, and dragged his horse to a walk, leaning forward and patting it on the neck to steady it and assure it that all was well. Like all the people of the plains Rees cared for his horse as though it were a part of his family almost.

With the group still bunched together and the horses now walking the wind seemed even stronger. It howled and blustered about them as though sensing that it had weakened them.

Luan leaned close to Mei'An, shouting into her ear. He straightened and pointed away to the North East, slightly away from their current direction and across the path of the wind.

“We ride to cover.” He called. The words were passed amongst the group one by one. Luan indicated that he would try to lead them to shelter some leagues away. How he knew where they were was anyone's guess. “Maybe he doesn't.” Thought Antonin, but he would not have placed a copper mark on it.

The Tharsians of Mordos must now be far behind. All traces of the passing of the band would be gone in the wind.

It didn't seem long before they came upon broken walls of stone and mud looming out of the darkness around them. They were in the outskirts of what appeared to be an abandoned city. The wind gusted around the ruined buildings in vast swirls of dust. They forced their way deeper into the ruins along cobbled stone streets and past tumbled and collapsed buildings. The buildings had been massive in the beginning, and even now the ruins barely glimpsed in the dark were impressive. Although the place was obviously still on the plains, none of the riders had known of it. It must indeed be far off the usual paths. Eventually an almost complete building appeared in front of them. The horses hooves rang on the stones of the great courtyard as they left the street and entered the grounds of the building. It looked large enough to have been a palace thought Antonin. The massive stone gateway was topped by stone beasts such as the people of the plains had never seen. Strange things that seemed part bear and part eagle. They squatted atop the stone lintel, their sightless eyes fixed on the party passing below. Their wings folded on their backs, poised for instant flight or attack. Catharina and the others could not help shuddering as they passed beneath the sentinels.

Luan pointed to a doorway atop a flight of broad stone steps. At some time in the distant past there appeared to have been huge wooden doors in place but now they were long gone, only the hinges remained hanging from the stone work. The darkness of the night seemed lit by a strange twilight, just beyond vision, yet enough to allow the riders to see clearly about them. Deep shadows lay all about, and the gaping doorway reminded Antonin of the jaws of a demon waiting to take them. He swallowed as he followed Luan up the broad stairs and into the vast building.

The place was pitch dark. Not even a glimmer of the strange backlight outside showed in the place. They halted just inside the doorway. The wind outside howled and swirled, but hardly a breath stirred inside. No one wanted to risk riding any further into the building, and all dismounted. The Mare Altan were first off their horses and prowling around the dark room, their spears held in front and tapping the floor alternately in case of collapsed masonry.

With eyes almost like cats, spears at the ready, if there was danger they would hunt it out before it came to them.

In the relative calm of the building the horses stood with sides heaving, a lather of sweat. They were too weary even to bother with their surroundings. Suddenly everything went quiet. Deathly still. Like the closing of a stone door on a crypt. The wind had suddenly stopped. Stars could be seen in the night sky outside. A faint tinge along the horizon was clearly the herald of a new day. The bone weary party had ridden before the wind the entire night. At least Antonin, Rees, Gaul and the three girls, Catharina, Edina and Elsa were bone weary. Mei'An and Luan gave no sign that they had even been on more than a short stroll. “How did they do it?” wondered Catharina. She took a cloth from her saddle bags and began to wipe her horse down. The others followed suit. The simple duty bringing them all back to reality after their mad ride.

Edina called from the back of the vast room. “There is water here in a large cistern!” surprise in her voice. “We can water the horses when they cool.”

“Elsa, Catharina, Edina – boys. Please attend a moment.” The polite request and quiet voice of Mei'An got their attention as much as anything. “We will rest here an hour or two, and I will tell you a plan of what we must do. I will tell you also of what we will face. But first we rest.”

Luan was feeding his horse a hand full of oats from his saddle bags. He had laid out his coat and blanket roll as well as Mei'An's. He would be on watch first while the others rested. The others stretched out on the floor tiles where they were. Heads on saddles or saddle bags, or rolled up blankets. Everyone was exhausted from the long night's action. Antonin's last thought was to wake in an hour to relieve Luan. The village he had left so far behind only flickered briefly across his thoughts.

Dagar Domain, sweating behind the hastily erected trestles in the common room, had no time to think of the likely outcome of this day's events. The Trader had finally wound down, with little left to trade now. In any case, the festivities were taking peoples interests now. Music and laughter were powerful forces against bargaining for trinkets. All serious or practical trading had long been done in any case. Except for one bit of business left to do, the Trader was happy to tell his tales of travel and adventure to wide eyed children. There were quite a few adults sitting around with the children. Equally wide eyed. It was one of the delights of a visit by a Trader. Such visits were rare and after all, no news reached the village any other way. Rumours from passing wanderers and hunters, and the occasional visit by a squad of the Queens Guard were the only hints of events in the wider world.

The Trader kept one eye on the innkeeper meanwhile. He had seen the look the innkeeper had given the bright yellow silk dress, and even in the noise of the crowd had heard the jokes directed at the innkeeper about his “golden talon”.

Traders had many skills, and reading the faces they saw in a crowd was one of the first they learnt. Master Domain kept his eye on the Trader in turn. With a bit of a lull in serving pots of ale, he called his oldest daughter Desare to the trestles.

"Serve a while daughter. I have business to attend to.” He said.

His remark had been timed to the second. At that very moment the Trader approached the trestle table to sample more of the innkeeper's finest ale.

Daga Domain looked the Trader in the eye. A direct unblinking gaze, held but for a moment. Unmistakeable to the Trader.

“Trader,” said Daga. “Would you care to sample a fine local brandy? I keep it in my private rooms.” Daga turned and proceeded to the side rooms, just off the long passageway that led from front to back of the inn. The Trader followed. He knew already what the innkeeper would say. He reached the door to the private dining room and stepped in. There was a huge circular table of highly polished timber in the centre of the room. Four high backed chairs were drawn up, equally spaced around the table. The room itself was plain, with few other furnishings. A couple of wall hangings depicting long forgotten battles, made of woven cloth. A side table of the same timber as the main table, dark red and polished to a mirror surface. Standing on the side table was a delicately carved ivory statue of a wading bird. The Trader knew quality when he saw it. The innkeeper had good taste for a county man. The Trader wondered how the statue had come into Master Domain's possession. It was very old, and ivory was a material that few other than kings and queens could afford. None knew the origins of ivory, what there was had survived the great battles of the last age and was highly prized. That it seemed to originate from the distant land of Hua Guo was all that was known of the material. Some thought it no more than bone, but it had a warm smooth feel as though it were a living material still. How it had ended up here the Trader could not even guess at. His eyes came back to the centre of the table.

Here on a square of brilliant white cloth stood two brandy glasses and a decanter. Glasswork that had been blown and shaped by master craftsmen if the Trader knew his business. Beside the decanter stood a small wooden box lined with dark velvet material. A large gold coin rested in the box. It glinted in the lamplight, reflecting light beams through the dark liquid in the decanter beside it. Daga had found the coin in the ancient ruins across the river. He gestured to a chair, inviting the trader to sit. Both knew this was serious business. The business of trade. If fine brandy from prized glasses was also being offered, well and good.

"So, Master Innkeeper, you do me much honour. Your finest brandy offered in glasses that would not disgrace the table of a noble. You have fine tastes Master Domain.” The Trader casually waved his right arm in a sweep encompassing the room, ending with the carved statue. There was no mistaking that the Trader was referring to the ivory bird.

Daga bowed his head slightly and a small smile played about the corners of his mouth.

“Thank you Trader, you are most generous in your praise. These things are but a few trinkets picked up over the years. Shall you try the brandy?”

The Trader took up a glass, allowing the innkeeper to splash a small amount of the amber liquid into it. The aroma immediately spread throughout the room. The candle light glowed through the glasses, and the warmth from the log fire in the hearth at the end of the room carried the vapours.

“Excellent brandy Master Domain. Truly a man of good taste.” Said the Trader. Praise indeed from a Trader. It was not lost on the innkeeper. He almost glowed with satisfaction. It was going well.

The Trader gestured with the stem of his glass to the gold coin that nestled in its little polished case. Neither man had openly looked at the coin, and neither did now.

“You have an eye for yellow it seems. Perhaps you would care to exchange some part of your collection for an …. object… of similar colour.” The Trader placed his glass carefully on the small square of white cloth. He had only wet his lips with the brandy so far. He knew well the perils of trading and drinking, and brandy was doubly dangerous. The fumes carried on the warm air currents of the room could dull senses enough as it was.

Daga lowered his glass and looked at the ceiling beams as though having never seen them before. Trying not to show his excitement at the prospect of actually making the trade, he scratched his chin to try and cover any signs he may be giving away on his all too honest face.