Dragonbards (12 page)

Marshy shouted, “Neeno . . .”A
guard knocked him down. Teb heard an owl scream and saw jackals
leaping and feathers on the wind.

Teb’s right leg was chained to Marshy’s
crippled one. They were shoved against a tree as the jackals came
to circle them, snapping at their ankles. The girl’s legs were
chained together. Teb searched the empty sky.
We are captured!
Captured!
When a jackal bit him hard, clamping its teeth on his
ankle, he kicked it in the face. The guards laughed. They were led
away, stumbling in the chains.

Behind them in the cadacus field, the
redheaded boy watched their slow, hobbling retreat toward the
castle, then returned to hoeing.

I have heard that the greater a man’s
strength, the more perfect the un-man’s pleasure in destroying it.
Oh, please, whatever powers exist beyond us, guard my children from
the unliving.

*

Kiri jerked awake, chilled by an owl’s
scream. She stared around her. It was light. The owl screamed
again, and she heard the yapping of jackals. She grabbed her sword
and ran scrambling down the mountain toward the cry. The two owls
who had been asleep in the cave swept past her, shouting, “Afeena!
Afeena!” The three dragons dove low over her head.

Halfway down the mountain, among boulders,
two winged jackals were pawing and snuffling at a deep crack. The
dragons dropped on them, belching fire. Seastrider beheaded one.
Windcaller bit the other in two.

Tybee and Albee hovered over the crack,
crying out to Afeena. Kiri knelt and reached in but could barely
touch Afeena’s feathers. “Come closer. Come to me, Afeena.”

Afeena struggled into her hand. Gently, Kiri
lifted her out. The little owl’s feathers were bloody. Her wings
dragged along Kiri’s wrist. Kiri carried her up to the cave as
Tybee and Albee fluttered around her.

She laid Afeena in her pack among the
softest clothes. She was afraid she couldn’t examine her gently
enough to search for broken bones. One wing drooped out sideways,
and Afeena’s inner eyelids were half closed. Tybee and Albee
huddled into the pack beside her and spread their wings to warm
her. Afeena’s voice came in a faint whisper.

“Neeno, ooo, Neeno . . . The
jackals killed Theeka and Keetho, but Neeno—I helped him into a
hole in the tree beside the cadacus field. He is alive—I took him
insects, water, in my mouth, but not enough.” The little owl
coughed, then continued. “The jackals watched me, followed me. He
will die—he will starve there. Help him . . .”

“And Teb . . . ?”

“The guards captured them both, in the field
. . . the jackals came. . . . Ooo, help
Neeno. The tree closest to the lane where the first two fields
meet. Neeno . . .”

“Can the jackals get into the hole?”

“No. It is far down and deep. An oak
tree.”

Kiri tied the remaining bundle of drugged
meat to Windcaller’s harness and strapped on her pack with Afeena
inside. She sent Albee to find Teb and Marshy. She mounted
Windcaller carefully, so as not to jar Afeena. Seastrider was in a
frenzy to get to Teb, and she knew she must not charge the castle.
The three dragons dove for the cadacus field.

*

Marshy was chained in the slave cage,
huddled down, pretending sleep. All the children had been brought
in shortly after he and Teb and the bard girl were locked in the
cage. The courtyard had been in an uproar, the dark captains
arguing, then going quiet and sullen when Quazelzeg appeared. They
beat the dark-haired girl and chained her at the far end of the
cage.

Marshy watched her, but she wouldn’t look at
him. What kind of bard was she, to have given away fellow bards? To
have ruined her own escape, besides. Across the slave cage, the
red-haired boy lay quietly, watching Marshy beneath his crooked arm
as he pretended sleep. Marshy had not tried to touch his mind,
because the slave girl would know. Fear lay inside Marshy— Teb was
somewhere in the palace. He had seen them beat Teb, then march him
into the palace in chains. And the dark leader had known Tebriel,
had known his name.

They had tried to make Teb say where his
dragons were, how many dragons, how many bards. Marshy knew he had
to get out of the cage, had to get to Teb.

The tortures would be terrible. Where were
the owls? He had to get the key.

*

The cadacus fields seemed empty as the three
dragons skimmed low over the trees. Windcaller came down beside an
oak, and Kiri peered into the hole. “Neeno?”

Neeno gave a small, choking answer. Afeena
and Tybee slipped in to him. Kiri filled a twist of leather from
her waterskin and pushed it into the hole, then crumbled up dried
meat and pushed that in, too. Inside, the owls brushed against her
hand, helping Neeno. The dragons were fidgeting and nervous.

‘Tebriel lies deep in the palace,”
Seastrider said, trembling. “I can sense him; he is strapped to a
table, in a windowless chamber.” She shuddered and pawed, huffing
fire. “I could storm the palace; I could tear it down. But they
would kill him.” She looked hard at Kiri. “I will go there into the
courtyard, and I will trade myself for him. The unliving
would—”

“No!” Kiri stroked the trembling dragon.
“That would do no good. They won’t give him up, not even to have a
dragon. Teb has angered them too often.”

“But—”

“We will free him,” Kiri said. “Quazelzeg
will not kill him. He—he will torture and drug him.” That knowledge
made her feel sick.

She did what she could for Neeno, but her
whole being was shaken with fear for Teb. It took all her strength
to make herself wait, with the dragons, deep in the woods until
Albee came. The dragons crouched beneath the trees, their wings
folded tight, their backs pressed against the low branches, their
minds filled with the tortures that battered Teb. The pain of the
tortures coursed through Kiri, twisting her, and her mind reeled
with the drugs forced into him. When his arms were bent backward,
Kiri choked down screams. When Quazelzeg’s face filled her mind,
and his cold laugh thundered, she fought him just as Teb did. She
saw only hazily the false visions with which Quazelzeg filled Teb’s
mind, but even those images sickened her. The dragons shivered with
the power they brought to help Teb. Near to dark, Albee came
swooping between branches, rousing them from the horror as he
buffeted his wings in their faces.

*

It was dusk when a kettle of thin gruel was
shoved into the slave cage. The stronger children began scooping
the slop up in their hands, drinking like starving animals. The
weaker ones watched, knowing they would get none, then curled down
again to sleep. Marshy shifted position so he could see the
red-haired boy, swilling in the gruel. He must speak to him. He
must have his help. It would be dark soon; he would go to him
then.

But when the children were black silhouettes
against the iron bars, most of them asleep, a little wind stirred
Marshy, and an owl fluttered close to his face.

“It’s Tybee. I have the key.”

Tybee dropped onto Marshy’s shoulder, and
Marshy’s hand closed over the cold metal key. He stroked Tybee,
then knelt to unlock his leg chains. He removed them with painful
slowness, to make no sound. “They took Tebriel into the palace,” he
whispered.

“Yes, I found him.” Tybee said. “Kiri will
go in; she will drug the jackals first. You must unlock all the
children, but leave them here. Leave the gate unlocked and closed
when you go out. You must help carry Tebriel; he is drugged.”

“I will bring the bard boy to help us,
too.”

Marshy waited for some time after Tybee had
gone, watching the still, dark shapes of the children. When no
child stirred, he began to crawl, unlocking each child as he
went.

It took him half an hour to go the twenty
feet to the red-haired boy. Finally he lay beside him, barely
breathing. The boy put out his hand, touched Marshy’s shoulder, and
shifted position so his lips were near Marshy’s ear.

“Why have you come?”

‘To get you out. You and the girl.”

“It was she who told.”

“Yes. Why did she?”

‘To keep from the things the unliving do to
us. She traded the knowledge.”

“She is a traitor.”

“No, she only lied to help herself. It’s
worse to be a girl—she is often hurt.”

“We mean to get all the children out. What
is your name?”

“Aven.”

“And hers?”

“Darba.”

“Come with me. Do you know the way to
Quazelzeg’s chambers?”

“Yes.”

They waited inside the unlocked gate while
Windcaller flew slowly across the courtyard and Kiri dropped the
meat. Aven stared up at the white dragon, struck to silence by the
sight.

The jackals snatched up the meat, fought,
and soon they slept. Windcaller dropped down outside the wall, and
Kiri slid onto it. As she secured her rope and swung to the
courtyard, Marshy ran to her, dragging Aven. She knelt between
them, pulled them close, and told them what she meant to do.

“You can’t!” Marshy said. “You can’t do
that!”

“We must. It is the only way.” Kiri hugged
him hard. “There is no other way to distract the soldiers.
Iceflower agrees. She is very brave, Marshy. And so must you be.”
She hugged him. “It
will
work. It must work. There are two
grown dragons to protect her.”

Marshy shook his head, mute and
miserable.

Kiri sighed. “We must try it. We must—for
Tebriel. We can’t wait.” She reached into her cloak and gave each
boy a knife and sheath. “Strap them on.”

She led them along in the shadow of the
wall, to the scullery door. “Tybee was able to slide the bolt. It
took all his strength.”

They slipped through the heavy door into the
palace.

Rebellion against the dark is the greatest
gift one can make to the Graven Light—it is the gift we must try to
give.

*

Teb lay barely conscious, strapped to a
tilting table. His mouth was bruised and torn; he was covered with
sweat and blood. His drugged mind drifted among labyrinths of
terror, and of obedience. Not even when he had lain for weeks on
the drowned seawall, mind tortured by the black hydrus, had he sunk
to the depths he now embraced. Now he loved Quazelzeg with a raw
fear. Quazelzeg was All, was everything, Teb was a part of him,
Teb’s will was Quazelzeg’s will.

He had no notion that Quazelzeg had left the
room, nor would it have mattered—Quazelzeg was everywhere, his
immediate presence only a minute part of his total presence; his
power was in everything.

Teb had no notion that a small gray owl had
winged into the room high against the ceiling shadows, then come to
perch on the table to watch him. He would have killed it had he
seen it. The floor was scattered with the tools of Quazelzeg’s
torture and with the metal tubes the dark ruler had used to siphon
the drugs into him. Quazelzeg had given him a boiled derivative of
cadacus, powerfully intrusive and deforming of the mind.

As Kiri and Marshy approached down the dark
passage, a sickening smell made them gag—the same smell as of the
caged monster. Could Quazelzeg have brought the monster here? But
how, in these small chambers? Soon they stood staring, from the
shadows, into the chamber where the smell was strongest.

The room was lit by candles and rich with
velvet and gold. Teb was not there, but in the corner stood a small
cage. Inside, pressing against the bars, was a little dirty-yellow
animal with creased and folded wings and an evil, wrinkled face.
They couldn’t make out what it was, but its blazing red eyes
searched the doorway and the darkness where they hid. When it
glanced away, they went on quickly, following Tybee’s fluttering
shadow. They had left Aven posted down the passage in a storage
niche.

They found Teb alone in a bare room, pale,
blood-streaked, unconscious. When Kiri untied him and took his
shoulders, his head lolled against her. Marshy took his feet, and
they fled down the passage and into the storage alcove. His hands
and face felt so cold. They hid him behind some crocks and buckets,
and Kiri wrapped her cloak around him. His breathing was uneven and
thin.

“What did they give him, Aven? Would cadacus
make him like this?”

“Boiled cadacus would. They put a metal tube
down his throat. See the bruises around his mouth?”

Kiri didn’t want to look. She spit on her
handkerchief and wiped blood from his face. If his body was so
damaged, what scars did his mind hold? “Can we wake him?”

“No, it must wear off.”

She took Teb’s feet, Marshy and Aven took
his shoulders, and they fled past the stinking room of the yellow
creature and up the dark stone passages. When they heard the
shuffle of boots, they froze against the wall, laid Teb on the
floor, and waited, knives and sword drawn.

Two human warriors went by along the cross
passage, never looking to right or left, walking with the rigid,
unbalanced gait of the drugged.

The bards were almost to the scullery when a
shout sent them running and stumbling. They pushed Teb beneath a
scullery table and crouched, weapons drawn, as footsteps pounded
toward them.

“Albee . . .” Kiri breathed.
“Albee . . .”

“Ooo—here.” The owl dropped onto her
wrist.

‘Tell Iceflower—tell her,
Now!”

The little owl fled, winging through the
scullery and out through a crack above the shutter. Feet pounded by
them, and more toward the main door, some so close Kiri could have
tripped the dark soldiers. Suddenly a dragon’s scream filled the
palace, echoing from the courtyard, and confused shouting
began—Iceflower had begun her act. Kiri slipped to the scullery
door to look.