Dragons Rising (8 page)

He
turned away. The drakes had not seen him yet. He walked down a rocky
slope, heading southeast, keeping the hilltops to his west to hide
him from those he had once commanded. He would seize command of these
firedrakes again someday, fly to war and conquest, slay his mother,
and claim the Temple, but not yet. He was not ready for another
battle, not with Domi hurt. For now she needed him, and his pets
could wait.

I
will reclaim you, my firedrakes, but not today.

He
kept walking, heading away from the beach of ruin, from the city of
the dead, from the paladins and their mounts, carrying Domi far from
them all, far from all those who had hurt her. She slept in his arms.

Once
you bore me on your back, Domi,
he thought.
Today I carry you.

Finally,
a mile or two away from the devastation, he reached a landscape of
quiet hills. Flat, shattered rocks formed natural paths and footholds
like the skin of wrinkly, fossilized giants. Between them, pines grew
from patches of earth, their bark rough, their branches twisting and
their needles rustling. Mint bushes, anemones, and cyclamens grew
between white boulders. Upon a hilltop ahead grew a coiling carob
tree with a trunk like an old man's face, wrinkled and wise. When
Gemini climbed the hill, he could see the distant sea. A little cave
yawned open on the hillside, its entrance in the shade of the carob.
It was little more than a crack, several feet deep, perhaps ten feet
wide, no more than a burrow for one or two souls to lie down in
shadow.

Soil
and leaves had blown into the cave, forming natural bedding. He
gently placed Domi down inside. Her eyes fluttered open, she gazed at
him, and she tried to whisper something, but her voice was too raw.
Blood stained the makeshift bandage around her leg, seeping out.

He
brushed pine needles out of her hair. "Drink." He held his
canteen open over her lips, letting its last few drops of water fall
into her mouth. "It's all the water I have for now."

He
pulled the lemons from his pack, cracked one in two, and helped her
eat. She wrinkled her nose.

"Sour."
She stuck out her tongue. "I want some cake instead."

He
laughed, eyes stinging, and couldn't stop the tears. "All the
cakes in the world," he whispered, stroking her hair. "I
promise them to you too. Oh, Domi. I'm so sorry." His voice
shook. "I'm so sorry for everything. Look at us here. Look at
what's become of us. I'm going to heal you. I'm going to burn every
last enemy, topple mountains, shatter armies, all to protect you."

She
smiled wanly. "That won't be necessary. Maybe just . . . I saw
some carobs. Maybe find me one to eat?"

He
nodded. "I'm going to leave you now for a moment. Just a moment,
I promise! I'll be back soon and--"

"Go!"
She smiled weakly. "Go."

He
nodded, left the cave, and climbed onto the hilltop. He could still
see the ocean in the distance, and when he turned west, he saw the
patch of darkness of the burnt city, the distant firedrakes still
flying above. Far in the south, he thought he could make out a cloud
of many other firedrakes flying deeper into Terra, seeking more lands
to conquer. Hurriedly, he approached the carob tree and reached to
the lower branches, gathering as much fruit as he could hold at once.
He brought them back to Domi, and they shared the meal. The fruit was
tough, stringy, hard to chew, but sweet and good, and it filled
Gemini with new energy, calming the tremor in his limbs.

After
their bellies were full, Domi slept again. The sun was setting, and
Gemini crawled into the cave with her. It was a tight squeeze, but
the shadows would hide them from any firedrakes that might fly above.
He gazed at her soft cheek in the moonlight, and he wrapped his arms
around her.

"Do
you remember how we slept like this, together, back in the Temple?"
he whispered. "Let's pretend that we're back there. Let's
pretend that all the world is comfort and safety again."

She
mumbled in her sleep but did not wake. He held her until the dawn.

In
the morning's soft light, he woke before her, and he watched her
sleep. When he wiped the grime off her cheek, her skin seemed ashen
to him. Her bandage was bright red with fresh blood. Iciness filled
Gemini's belly.

She
won't survive on carobs alone,
he thought. She needed medicine.
She needed new bandages, ointments for the wound on her leg, maybe
stitches. She needed a healer. And proper food. And more water.

The
first flickers of panic began to rise in Gemini, but he stifled them.
Fear was his enemy now. He had to think calmly.

He
needed to find medical supplies. But where? The nearest city had been
reduced to ash, and Gemini had no idea what other settlements existed
in this barbarous continent of savages. If he had a firedrake, he
could have explored from above, but even if he found some Horde
settlement that still stood, he was likely to find nothing but a
witch doctor.

"I
need a battlefield surgeon," he muttered. "Like the ones
who always fly with the Temple to war. Like--"

Of
course.

He
stepped out of the cave and stood on the hill, staring west toward
the ravaged town.

"They'll
have a surgeon," he whispered. "The Temple always brings a
few to war. He'll have needles and thread, ointments, bandages. He
can heal Domi's leg."

He
returned to the cave to find Domi awake. She lay on her back, gazing
up at him weakly.

"I
think I'll sleep in," she whispered. "Unless you have those
cakes out there."

He
knelt beside her and stroked her hair, pulling out more needles. "I'm
going to leave for a while. Just a short while. To find supplies we
need. I'll be back very soon, I promise. Will you wait for me here?"

She
glanced down at her bloody leg. "I'm not walking anywhere,
that's for sure, and if I'm too weak to walk, I'm certainly too weak
to turn into a dragon anytime soon."

He
gave her the last of his lemons and carobs, then left the cave and
walked downhill. He had no plan. He had no weapons, no armor. But he
had his surname, and he had his pride, and he had Domi to save. Those
would carry him farther than any firedrake could.

When
he crested the next hilltop, he gazed west again toward the burnt
city. Firedrakes still flew above, but Gemini saw no life on the
ground. The only movement came from the charred scraps of banners
that still billowed in the wind. That wind carried the stench of
death even up to these hills. South of the camp, however, sunlight
gleamed on metal, and little figures bustled back and forth. A group
of Templers seemed to garrison there, right on the rim of the
devastation--a camp to guard the coast, perhaps to treat those
wounded in the battle.

I'll
find a healer there,
Gemini thought.
Or at least supplies.

He
kept walking along the hills. Every step made his wounds blaze--worst
of all were the whip lashes across his back--but Gemini ignored the
pain, focusing instead on the landscape. Mint bushes rustled around
him, hives rose from the crumbly soil, and birds flittered between
the pines. Shattered flint rocks lay strewn around his feet, their
innards smooth and gleaming like stone mirrors. Cyclamens rustled in
the shade of chalk boulders, their leaves veined, their blossoms
lavender and pale. The sea whispered in the south, its water blue
splotched with green.

It's
a beautiful place,
Gemini thought. He looked back at the carob
tree; it was now small in the distance. He missed Domi already. He
didn't want to walk any farther away. He wanted to stay here with
her, in this beautiful place, not head back into war, fire, death.

"Maybe
we should stay here forever," he whispered to the land. He gazed
at a hillside where anemones grew in a red carpet. "Maybe we can
forget about Requiem, forget about the Temple, and just live here,
Gemini and Domi, in our own world, a world of flowers, the song of
birds, the call of the sea."

He
sighed. Yet walk back into ruin he must--to find a healer, to find
hope for Domi. And then he would keep walking through ruin, he knew,
for despite the beauty of this place, this peace and gentleness, the
call of power still overwhelmed all other voices. He could feel the
beacon of the Cured Temple, drawing him even from across the sea, and
he knew that he would not forget those crystal towers, not even in
this place, not even in the embrace of the woman he loved. Forever
the splendor of the Cured Temple shone in his dreams. An evil now
lived within those halls--the evil of his mother, his sister, an evil
he knew he must supplant. He walked on.

He
was a mile away from the killing field when the firedrakes saw him.
Three of the beasts tossed back their heads and cried out, then beat
their wings and wheeled in the sky toward him. Like vultures
departing from carrion, they left the burnt city and came flying
toward the hills. Paladins sat on their backs, armor brilliant in the
sunlight, and their banners streamed.

Gemini
stood on the hill, waiting. He forced himself to breathe deeply, to
remain calm. A memory of the dungeon shot back into him--the screams,
the agony of torture, the stench . . . Fear flooded his belly, icy
cold, and sweat trickled down his back, and he felt his pulse
quicken.

Calm
yourself. Breathe.
He inhaled deeply and raised his chin.
You
are Lord Gemini Deus. You will show them your nobility.

The
three drakes circled above, cawing, then spiraled down. They landed
on the hill around Gemini, claws tearing up dirt and shattering
rocks. Chunks of chalk spilled down the slopes, crushing cyclamens,
and one firedrakes lashed its tail, shattering a pine. All three
thrust forth their heads, fangs bared, their hot breath blasting
Gemini. Their riders, bedecked in white steel, pointed their lances
at him. Gemini was covered in grime, his hair caked with mud, and he
wore only rags, but he forced himself to stand proudly, to raise his
chin.

"Lower
your lances!" he said. "Paladins, dismount and kneel. I am
Gemini Deus, your lord. Kneel!"

The
paladins glanced at one another, uncertain.

"You are--" one began.

"Silence!"
Gemini shouted. "I did not tell you to talk back but to dismount
and kneel before your lord." He stared at the talkative
paladin's firedrake, a scarred yellow beast. "You ride upon
Lore. That scar on his head is from battling the rebels in
Salvandos." He turned toward the other two firedrakes. "These
are Pelaron and Telesar, siblings from the same brood. Do not mistake
me for some common wanderer. I lost my armor in the sea, and the
grime and blood of battle covers me, as it would any true warrior."
He stared pointedly at the men's gleaming, polished armor. "Yet
I am still your lord. Now kneel!"

The
paladins stared at one another again, then dismounted their drakes,
but they did not kneel. One among them--the tall man who had first
spoken--took a careful step forward.

"Yes,
you are Gemini," he said. "I recognize your face. Last I
heard you were tossed into the dungeon, a traitor to the Cured
Temple."

Fear
flooded Gemini. Again he could feel the cold stones beneath him, feel
the chains clasping him, feel the torturer ripping off his
fingernail. He forced himself to stare steadily at the man.

"Do
not meddle in the affairs of those of higher station. The squabbles
of the Deus family are none of your concern. Raise your visor! Let me
see your face. Who are you that you should speak so impudently to
your lord?"

The
man hesitated. Gemini stomped toward him and reached toward the
paladin's visor. The man stepped back, seemed almost ready to attack
Gemini, but hesitated just long enough. Gemini managed to grab the
visor and yank it up.

"Ah
. . ." Gemini smiled thinly at the pale, hard face. "Sir
Ker Albinor, is it not? Yes, I know your face. I know your family.
Only two generations ago, your family was shoveling shite in the
fields. You will kneel before your lord now, Albinor, or you will be
shoveling shite again." He spun toward the other two paladins--a
burly man and a tall woman. Both had raised their visors too. "I
don't even recognize you two. Must be even lower than the Albinor
family. Worms, you are. Worms I can easily crush."

"My
lord, you . . ." Sir Albinor swallowed. "You were a
prisoner. Lady Mercy told us you fight against us, that--"

"Mercy
isn't here. My bitch sister flew back north, I imagine, leaving you
lot in the south. She's dining on peacock and sipping wine from
golden chalices. I'm here in the south, fighting in the mud, for the
Cured Temple. For you. For our glory. I'm taking command of this
garrison. Now kneel before me and swear your allegiance, or by the
Spirit, you will know my vengeance."

The
paladins glanced at one another again. The female stepped closer to
Albinor and whispered to him. Gemini caught the words "Mercy
gone" and "not our battle."

Gemini
stepped closer toward them. "Kneel!" he shouted, his voice
so loud it pealed across the hills. He was sure even Domi in her
distant cave heard.

The
paladins fell silent, then knelt.

Gemini
approached Lore, the yellow firedrake, and climbed into the saddle.
For a moment he just sat there, eyes narrowed to slits, and inhaled
deeply. Spirit, it felt good to sit in the saddle again. He wore
rags, and wounds and grime covered him, and he looked like what he
was--a ragged prisoner washed up onto the coast with other ruined
things. But here, sitting upon a firedrake, Gemini almost felt like
himself again, the lord who had once ridden Pyre across the
Commonwealth, the most powerful man in the world.

I
will be the most powerful man in the world again,
he silently
vowed.