Dragon Ultimate (13 page)

Irene and Belveria were not as familiar with Relkin of Quosh as the older greatwiches, but they knew all about his troubles with the law.

"He has been charged with looting," said Irene in a prim voice.

"Ah, yes," murmured Ribela. "He is a fairly larcenous sort, our young hero. He is a dragonboy after all." Ribela's relations with Relkin had lasted almost as long as Lessis's, and had included the most bizarre of interpenetrations. Since her near death in Eigo she had exhibited signs of emotional conflict whenever she spoke his name. Lessis had long wondered what it meant. Something had happened in Eigo, something connected with the appearance of the liberated gestalt mind of the mind mass of Mirchaz. But that was all she knew, and Ribela would not discuss it in any detail.

"Indeed," murmured Irene. "It would be silly to expect a saint to survive in the legions."

"This one has been marked, we all know that," said Lessis.

"They want him, that is certain," confirmed Belveria.

"So he cannot serve a sentence on the Guano Isles."

"No, he must be brought here and kept out of sight while we work with him to try and understand these things that have happened to him."

Lessis said this with the sad knowledge that she was passing a sentence of sorts on poor Relkin. His life would be snatched away despite his ability to survive so many perils.

"Can we use the sentence to hard labor as the justification for keeping him here?" wondered Irene.

"If we have to, yes. The emperor will order it so if necessary."

The emperor, too, knew this particular dragonboy.

"Is this what they want?"

"Who can say?"

"With the Sinni, it is not our place to say." Belveria's frank use of the name of the High Ones brought stares from the others.

"They are preoccupied. The Dominator threatens them. He knows they have violated the ancient convenant."

"He has violated it himself and far more grossly."

"True. That has never mattered to Waakzaam the Great."

"Say not that name in this place," muttered Lessis, casting a spell of dispersal.

They nodded quietly.

"The plague was his work, we are certain of it."

"The plague has been met and defeated," said Irene.

"The cost was high," Lessis replied…

"It never reached our islands, praise be to the Mother," said Belveria.

"No ship from the Argonath was allowed to dock here," said Irene. "And we instituted the most extreme clean out of rats and fleas ever seen."

"Great business for the brush makers," murmured Lessis. In her hometown of Valmes there was a large brushmaking firm. They had taken on two dozen workers to cope with the sudden boom in demand.

"Good exercise for everyone, too, I'm sure," said Ribela with a thin smile.

"All his work," said Lessis. "His shadow still hangs over us. Whatever is happening in the higher realms, he will return to us before the end."

"What do we know of his whereabouts?"

"He remains in Haddish. But some emanation of his has penetrated the high planes quite recently. This is what has upset the High Ones."

"Will we know if he comes to Ryetelth?"

"Not at first, but in time his absence from Haddish would be noticeable."

"We cannot detect him here?" wondered Irene.

"Not at a distance, not without knowing where he might appear."

"In Padmasa, I would imagine," said Belveria.

"Then we might have word," said Lessis. "Our network is restored in the Masters' dreadful realm. If the Deceiver were to return there, we would know quite soon."

"But we cannot have agents in all the possible places that he might choose to appear on our world, so in all likelihood he will return before we know he is here."

"And then?"

"A good question. We must try and anticipate his next move."

"It is a great pity that we could not eliminate him entirely in the fighting at the Manse of Wexenne."

"A great pity," agreed Lessis, who recalled that the dragon was very close to slaying Waakzaam just before his escape. "We came close, very close. He will not have forgotten that, either."

The 109th Marneri had completed another month of duty at Camp Dashwood, cutting and hauling timber from the wood-lots. By the time they started back to Marneri they were an inch or two lighter in the waistband department and a degree firmer all over their bodies.

They swung down the road at a strong Legion pace that ate up four miles an hour, hour after hour, through dust and rain and a sharp little wind that blew in through the morning and tapered off by noon. At the crossroads by Rinz they met a cavalry detachment heading the other way, and they exchanged a crisp salute with the troopers.

Relkin noted the frowns here and there among the riders. The cavalry disliked ceding the prime role on the battlefield to the dragon squadrons and the infantry, and sometimes there were "moments of conflict" between the two arms of the service. It was usually out back of a brewhouse, and troopers and dragoneers would go at it barefisted. This didn't work well for dragonboys since they were younger and smaller for the most part, but now and then there'd be one like Rakama and the situation would change. It was a tradition of sorts throughout the Legions.

The dragons themselves were indifferent to the presence of the cavalry, except for the Purple Green, who was eyeing the horses with another thought in mind.

Perhaps because they could sense his interest, the horses were nervous, even though they were trained to tolerate dragons in close proximity. The skittishness of their mounts upset the troopers, who wanted to pass the dragons as casually as possible. Dragonboys grinned rather obviously at the horsemen and received stony stares in return.

When the horses were past, the 109th were ordered forward by Cuzo, and they resumed the march, soon passing the entrance to the Royal Hunting Lodge in Rinz Park. On the order they went by with eyes left and their best parade march.

The sleepy guards at the gate stiffened hurriedly to return the salute. Off through the trees they could glimpse the white columns of King Adem's old house. It was well-known that the queen had passed the plague time at her house here. In the city this was accepted as both inevitable and a little sad. The queen was not much loved by her people.

Later they passed the turnoff up to Lost Buck Woods and relived the memories of the nights of digging in the plague pits. Any merriment went out of their minds until they were well past the place.

Relkin thought it was a pity that the woods lay close to this road. It ruined this march for him, which they had made a hundred times or more over the years. It was a good march, accomplished in a single day, on mostly flat terrain and past several alehouses. If they kept up a firm pace they would usually get into Marneri in time for the dragons to have a huge dinner and a splash in the plunge pool afterward. For some reason this combination had always appealed to the great beasts, and they always kept to a brisk pace on the way back to Marneri. Now the march was tinged with the shadow of the plague.

But Relkin refused to dwell on the charnel pits, or the plague. He was thinking of Eilsa Ranardaughter, who would be back in the city now.

After the plague struck the cities she had moved to Widarf, where she had worked with the sisters of the temple caring for the sick and dying. Relkin gave thanks to the Old Gods, and also to the Great Mother that she had lived through it all. He knew only too well what hell she must have been through.

She had survived it all, and now she was back in Marneri for a short while, before undertaking the journey back to Wattel Bek. She had been away from her home for far too long. Her elders were demanding that she return and take part in the life of the clan. She remained Ranardaughter, and therefore heir to the chieftaincy. Unless, of course, she married outside the clan, in which case it would pass to another branch of the family. Her cousin Derryn, most likely, would be chieftain.

Of course Eilsa would suffer an immense loss of status, and so would her close kin, who were all, therefore, very angry with her. She faced this with sorrow in her heart, but determination, also, to seek her own way. A way that included Relkin.

Relkin felt the forces that tore at her. He had felt the dislike, bordering on hate that came from her kin as a threat to their social standing. He knew how tormented she was by it all, but she stuck with him. For this he would have died for her willingly a thousand deaths.

Relkin had his guilty secrets. His love affairs, if that's what they were, with Lumbee and Ferla during his long sojourn in Eigo. He had never spoken of them with Eilsa, and she had never appeared to suspect anything of him. It was as if she believed that he was too pure of heart ever to have actually broken faith with her.

To Relkin's credit, the truth was nothing quite so stark, or black-and-white, and what had happened had come out of strange, unique circumstances. At the time, it seemed quite possible that if he survived at all, he would end his days lost in the heart of the dark continent. He would live among the Ardu folk, the tailed people of the remote jungle in the heart of the continent. His sense of dislocation and the tug of emotions in that time had simply overwhelmed him. He had made love to Lumbee and later to Ferla, the spirit queen of Mot Pulk's magic grotto.

Now it seemed as if it had all happened in another life.

He loved Eilsa more than ever, as a sinner loves the true saint. And he loved her for the way she was prepared to give up so much. Their plan had only grown stronger with time. They would wed in Marneri, then move to the Bur valley with the dragon and horses and hired workers and build their farm.

Unfortunately, Relkin might well be going to the Guano Isles for the next ten years.

The 109th marched in with a fairly crisp salute to the gate guards, arriving at the dragonhouse with a mighty whoop. Dragons tucked into their food while beer was rolled out. Dragonboys saw to the stowing of kit and equipment and then grabbed their own dinners. Relkin took a loaf of bread as he headed out the door. He ate on the move and reached the top of the zigzag on Water Street with just the heel of the loaf left. He ate the rest while going down hill at a clip.

Fortunately Eilsa had many excuses for visiting Lagdalen's law office. Aunt Kiri would sit in the anteroom while she met Relkin in Lagdalen's inner office. It was the only place they could ever be alone together.

Relkin jogged half the way and rapped on the door with mounting excitement. The door opened and a leathery-faced guard looked him over carefully, then motioned him inside.

Relkin was glad to see that security had improved since the days of the Aubinan rebellion.

Eilsa was waiting for him in her clan tweeds and square-cornered hat. She tossed the hat into a chair when he came in, and they fell into each other's arms with a tigerish embrace.

Aunt Kiri frowned and groaned and began praying, as much to distract herself as to affect them.

When the emotion had subsided a little he found his voice.

"I missed you," he said.

"So much," she replied with tears in her eyes.

This time the embrace lasted even longer. Aunt Kiri was forced to count rosary beads while she prayed for the Mother's protection for this wayward girl she was trying to protect. At length they gave it up.

"Oh, Relkin, my dearest, what are we going to do?"

The trial date loomed just two weeks away.

"We fight the case. Maybe the gods will finally look down on me with favor and we'll get justice."

"They should have waited. There is still no word from Mirchaz."

"Nor will there be this year."

Eilsa, while overjoyed to see Relkin all in one piece, indeed as healthy-looking as ever, was burdened by the thought of the trial.

"And you helped that woman, too," she hissed. "You helped her get her own mother to come down from the roof, and she repays you by unfairly opening the trial too soon."

"Yeah, well she's a judge. I suppose she has to be above kindness."

"So far above it, for I know you are innocent. How could they send you away for ten years for this, without even letting all the evidence be heard?"

"It might not actually be ten years."

"But you will virtually have to plead guilty. They say you admit taking some of the gold. That constitutes looting."

"When I saw those gold tabis just sitting there in the smashed-up wall of Mot Pulk's house I thought it had to be a gift from the gods. Now I think it was perhaps a curse."

Lagdalen appeared at that point and brought them some good news. The judge had agreed to hear a motion to put the trial on hold until a higher court could rule on the question of whether the trial should wait until a message had been brought back from Mirchaz.

"We have many grounds for appeal, I'm glad to say. The judge recognizes that there's a chance of that, so she will be reasonable and let the high court examine this decision."

"Will the high court be any better?"

"I hope so. It's hard to be certain, but I think two of the judges are likely to rule in your favor. Ronymuse will not, of course, but he is Aubinan. This kind of sneak attack, which is all this trial is, is all that's left for them to do at this point."