Dragon Ultimate (22 page)

Lessis knew they were about thirty-five leagues due north of the volcano. Mount Kenor as it was known to the men of the Argonath. The plains tribes called it Ashel Veerath, "Fire of the Earth"—for they remembered that long, long ago, the mountain had spoken in flame and lava and torn the world around it for forty days and nights. The horsemen of the plains had been driven to the edge of starvation before the mountain finally quietened. The lands across the Oon had been buried under the ash, and nothing would grow for three seasons. No good grass grew for seven. And thus Ashel Veerath was always seen as an angry manifestation of the gods and was much feared by the tribesmen of the plains.

Lessis was headed south and west, into a wide tongue of land that stretched westward where the Oon curved its mighty course, slowly snaking across its vast floodplain. Somewhere ahead stood the Widows Rock, beyond the edge of the frontier. Far from the centers of power where Lessis normally operated.

And all for the sake of a rumor, but one that spoke of green fire, like lightning that blazed for a minute, and of a thunder that shook the Gan for a hundred miles.

The word had come from outposts on the River Argo, and also from the Baguti, the wild nomad tribesmen of the Gan. Fierce warriors, great horsemen, they spanned the steppes in their constant migrations with their herds. The witches had placed many informants within the Baguti peoples in the last few years, and they all spoke of a great Master, a being from the ancient aeons of the past who had appeared in a blast of green fire and passed among the Baguti. He had the powers of a god, and had stirred up a great storm among the fierce clans of the horsemen.

The Office of Insight was well attuned to such stories from beyond the frontier. In the time it takes an eagle to fly from Dalhousie down to Marneri, the word had reached Lessis. Her reaction was immediate. She gathered up Lagdalen, Mirk, and the new sensitive, just arrived from Cunfshon, and headed northwest for Razac.

At the Hollow of the Dead Elk, they met with a spy who brought them new stories, very strange tales. Monsters had risen out of the ground. The horses of a Baguti clan who had refused to serve the Master had been devoured, the people enslaved.

Many Baguti clans, genuinely terrified, had fled the Gan and were seeking shelter in the fort towns along the Argo. After pledging their swords and bows, the Baguti were allowed to set up their tents in designated areas, under Legion watch, and always outside the walls.

The Lord Who Burns Men, they called him, for he was said to throw men, alive, into blazing fires and extract their very souls to use in his tremendous magic. He called down the thunder and lightning, as if he were ancient Asgah, the Great God of the heavens and of war, and lightning.

Of course the green lightning had been enough to instantly capture Lessis's attention. Such sorcery was far beyond the powers of any mere wizard, or even the Padmasan Masters themselves. Waakzaam had returned.

And so they rode on, through the endless whisper of the grasses, heading toward the setting sun as it became a ball of gold sinking in the uttermost west.

Ahead appeared a sliver of black on the horizon, the Widows Rock, a single jut standing above the grassland.

They pulled up at dusk under the lee of the towering rock, a remnant of an ancient volcano chain, of which Mount Kenor was the most recent. Mirk found a water hole where they watered the horses, then hobbled and fed them enriched oats from their saddlebags. They made no fire in this hostile land. It was the third day of dried meat, dried fruit, and dried biscuit, washed down with canteen water, but after another long day in the saddle they ate it with the usual ravenous hunger.

Ration devoured, Lessis laid her blankets down and, with a little groan, settled onto the ground, determined to rest as much as possible. Sadly she recalled the comfort of her own bed in her house in Valmes. That was another thing that was harder to do as one aged, sleep on the cold, hard ground.

"Lady, would you like some more water?" Lagdalen had brought out their larger water jug.

"Of course, my dear. Thank you."

Lagdalen was also saddle sore and weary, but she was still a young woman and far more resilient. She, too, gave a groan as she sat down on her own blankets.

"I wish we had Ridge Eyes."

"So do I, dear, by the Hand! So do I, but alas, we had to leave him in his own world. He belonged in Eigo. It would have been unjust to take him."

"We'd have been there days ago."

"Traveling on the back of the batrukh can spoil a person, I'm convinced." They exchanged a small smile.

"And Ridge Eyes is free now, whereas before he was slave to the Masters. I remember when we were on the Gan before, Lady. It seems a long time ago, now, eight years I think."

"Yes, my dear, I remember, too, but for me it does not seem so long ago."

"We passed to the north of here."

"Considerably. I think the grasses are longer here. We are close to the great river."

There was a short whistle and a hail from Beruyn. Mirk had returned from his reconnaissance of the Widows Rock. He squatted beside them, grim-faced in the moonlight.

"Someone was here within the last month. A big fire was made on the north side of the rock. I found scorched bones."

Mirk handed Lessis a piece of a man's thigh bone, blackened and cracked in a great fire.

"Take Giles to the spot in the morning. See if he can pick up a trace."

"Yes, Lady."

"Witch Shuneen is coming. Her signal was seen."

"Shuneen is prompt, good. You can turn in now, faithful Mirk. The Mother Herself commends you."

The Witch Shuneen came out of the dark about an hour later. The men were all asleep, except for Mellicent, who kept watch.

"Approach, Witch," said Lessis. "Sit with us and tell us your tale."

"Thank you, Lady," said Shuneen, a cowled figure in the dark. She pulled back her cloak and revealed a face browned by the sun and the wind. She was clad as a Baguti squaw, with leather apron and jacket, hide boots to the knee. At her hip she bore a long knife with a high, horn handle and an iron hilt.

"It is an honor, Lady," began Shuneen. Lessis hushed her with a raised hand in gentle protest.

"You have word for me, I hope?"

"I have, but I know not if it should be given before the youngster here."

"You can speak freely. This is my assistant, Lagdalen of the Tarcho, from Marneri. Do not be taken by her youth. I can assure you that she has wisdom far beyond her years."

Lagdalen bobbed her head, embarrassed by this encomium.

Shuneen stretched out her hand, brown and callused from woman's work in the tents of the Baguti. Lagdalen's was pale and soft in comparison.

"Honored to meet you, Witch," said Lagdalen.

"Likewise, Lady Tarcho."

"So?" said Lessis.

"I have bad news. The Irrim Baguti, you know them?"

"Big tribe on the eastern side of the Gan. Have been neutral for much of recent history. Didn't join the invasion armies."

"They are hostile now. Their horde is massing. They will aim to fall upon Fort Kenor."

"They will have to cross the river first. The Argo is low now, but still it cannot be waded across like the Oon at the crossings."

"The Lord has a force of Padmasan engineers."

"The Lord? The Lord of Evil is all he is. I have heard it said they call him the Man Burner."

"That is him. I believe he is known by many names, but I do not know them, nor do I wish to repeat them."

"It is better not to, for such names give him his strength. We call him the Deceiver, for it is treachery that is his true hallmark."

"Then I shall use that name. Ten days ago he burned a man, right here at the rock. He brought down the thunder and the lightning beyond all lightning ever seen. The Irrim fell prostrate and worshiped him. They think he is Asgah, the ancient god of war returned to the world."

Lessis nodded faintly. He had been here! Once before she had been close enough to kill him and missed her chance. This time she vowed she would not fail. In her mind she carried the lethal spell, provided by her sisters.

"He has godlike powers. I am but a lowly woman." Shuneen grinned. "So I was not allowed to see his work from close at hand, but even in the camp the lightning was astonishing. A column of green fire into the clouds that continued for a minute. The thunder deafened everyone and drove every horse to panic.

"Now the men are his to lead. He has sent a force of Padmasan mercenaries to work with the Baguti. They have talked of nothing but war since that night. They envisage war and rapine from here to the ocean, with fat pickings in the rich cities of the plain."

"We must get a warning to the fort."

"Warn them that the Irrim will fall on them within a few days. Already the signals have gone out, and the war drums are thundering on the banks of the Great River."

It was a hot day in the Big Side Swamp. The sun beat down from a cloudless sky and there was no wind. The dragons of the 109th were digging that day. Wielding immense shovels, they heaved muck out of a trench that already stretched across the narrow neck of land thrust out across a lagoon.

They had piled the dirt up into a neat bank, now standing six feet high, all along the inland side of the neck. Forty men from the Kadein Second Legion were at work on the bank, tamping it down and hammering sharpened stakes into the seaward side. Dragonboys assisted with the hammering, or else resharpened the stakes after they'd been hammered in.

A cornet sounded for lunch, and, with a few groans and sighs, men and dragons put down their tools and gathered around the cookshack. The usual big boil was on, three to four hundred pounds of noodles, gallons of akh, hogsheads of beer, a hundred flat loaves of bread, big jars of fish paste, and some steamed herbs gathered out of the swamp by the surgeon's staff. It was imperial policy to encourage the men to eat some kind of green stuff several times a week.

At the lineup everyone was pretty subdued. This was their third day of backbreaking work. The men had few jokes left to tell. The dragons, at least, were holding up well. As long as there was plenty of food and some beer to wash it down with, they could throw themselves into a huge, energy-intensive task. Here, they'd dug three hundred yards of deep trenches and hurled up enough dirt for an impressive fortification at the base of the Neck. Dragonboys were pleased with the general tone and condition of the dragons, but they were hot and sweaty from scrambling around on the bank all morning. They fed the dragons, grabbed some bread and akh for themselves and took off to the riverside for a quick swim.

They had to go down the Neck to the far side and around the lagoon to reach a bank of gravel that skirted the river itself. The Argo here was a broad flat expanse of water, slowly flowing toward an even larger one.

The water was murky, but still cool and refreshing after hours of labor in the hot sun. They ducked, dived, swam, and strode out feeling a lot better than before. They'd kept back most of their ale ration, and they drank this down, warm as it was, and prepared to hike back to their dragons.

"Sail ho!" cried Jak, still out in the water, splashing around.

A trio of sails, in fact, was now visible, rounding the bend about a mile upstream. Within a few minutes they drew level, but still way out in the water, for there was no landing here. The water was far too shallow for the riverboats to come close to shore.

"Ahoy there," came a cry from the leading vessel.

"They've got dragons aboard," said Endi.

"Hey, there's a crullo!" said Swane, spotting a dragon with a bluish hide.

"Then it must be the 145th," said Endi.

Suddenly dragons started jumping off the sides of the river-boats, which heeled over dangerously while splashes rose to their topmasts. Sailors cursed generously. The dragons simply swam to shore while boats were let down behind them to bring their equipment.

Jak and Relkin both reached the same conclusion and looked up into the other's eyes a moment later.

"Hope they've got dragonboys now," said Jak.

Relkin scanned the boats. There were just a group of rowers and a steersman.

"Uh-oh," said Rakama.

The dragons walked out of the river shortly afterward and exchanged greetings with the dragonboys of the 109th. Dragon Leader Hussey came ashore on the first boat.

"We've been seconded to the 109th," said Hussey in explanation. "Our dragonboy replacements died of the plague when it stuck Razac. You boys are going to have to take on an extra dragon for a while."

Dragonboy hearts sank a little at the thought of the extra work, but they rose a bit at the thought of getting to know another dragon.

Hexarion, a hard green, and dragonboy Ralf were the only surviving pair in the whole 145th, so virtually everyone in the 109th would have to pair with a new dragon.

Back at the new fortification, the 109th rose up to greet the new dragons with cheerful roars and slaps. They concealed any concern they might have about having to share dragonboys. One look at the shambles into which the kits of the 145th dragons had descended and everyone knew they'd be working into the wee hours for weeks.