Rage of the Dragon (14 page)

Raegar was a Vindrasi. He was accustomed to fighting alongside dragons and he had not, as Acronis had predicted, given any thought as to how the Sinarians aboard his ship would react to the sight of a dragon, especially after they had witnessed a dragon rain down death and destruction on their city of Sinaria. The fools had cheered when the dragon flew off in ignominious defeat. Then Raegar had been forced to waste precious time fishing Treia out of the sea. After that, the sailors had refused to continue their pursuit of the
Venjekar
. They were going home to their families—if they had any families left. Raegar had urged Captain Anker, commander of the Temple guards, to force the sailors at sword point to continue sailing the ship in pursuit of the
Venjekar
. In answer, Captain Anker had thrown his sword onto the deck.

“You do it,” he’d said to Raegar, and walked off.

Raegar realized he had been made to look foolish. He’d lost all the political capital he’d gained in Sinaria. He needed to win it back and, with Aelon’s help, he would.

Raegar paid no attention to his men. He continued to watch Skylan, his fair-haired cousin, beloved of the gods. Beloved of old, toothless, decrepit gods. Raegar had faith in Aelon. He waited to see what would happen.

The
Venjekar
slowed. The ship was turning, sailing off on a new course—heading for the ogre ship that had been dogging it. Raegar was puzzled and wary. What was Skylan up to? Was he plotting to join with the ogres and come after
Aelon’s Triumph
? Raegar raised the spyglass. He was not an experienced sailor, but even he could tell that the ogre ship was sinking.

“By god! Look at that!” Captain Anker shouted.

His face was pale beneath his weather-beaten tan, his eyes wide and staring. Men all over the ship were crying out in alarm. Raegar shifted the spyglass in time to see the enormous tentacles of the kraken wrap around the ogre ship and crush it. Another tentacle seized hold of the
Venjekar
and dragged it beneath the waves. The water boiled furiously for a moment and then grew calm. Nothing was left of either ship except a few pieces of cracked timber.

Raegar lowered the spyglass. He did not turn around.

“Praise Aelon!” he cried.

All he heard was silence and then came the sound of men dropping to their knees. A few shouted, “Praise Aelon,” but most were too awed to speak.

Raegar turned around slowly, gazing at the soldiers and sailors who, moments earlier, had reviled him and who now were regarding him with almost worshipful respect. Treia, wet and bedraggled, stood with her mouth open, blinking, stunned.

“Witness the power of Aelon!” Raegar cried with a sweep of his arm. “He has destroyed our enemies with a single blow! We will sail back to Sinaria, praising Aelon’s name, and we will bury our dead and rebuild our city! For Aelon’s glory!”

“For Aelon’s glory!” the men cried.

The sailors went to work with a will. Aelon granted them a fair wind. They had no need of rowers, which was good, since many of them were injured and their oars broken.

Raegar was well pleased with himself and with Aelon. He was in an excellent mood and disposed to be generous to Treia. She had been the cause of the disaster that had leveled Sinaria and killed thousands, that was true. But if it hadn’t been for this disaster, Raegar would still be a Warrior-Priest, carrying out the dirty work of Priest-General Xydis.

Now Xydis was dead. Raegar had long nurtured the ambition of one day rising to the office of Priest-General. The road to the fulfillment of his ambition had been long and winding and steep, blocked by rock falls and gaping pits. Holding the body of the Priest-General in his arms that terrible night, Raegar had seen the road to success suddenly flatten out, with almost all impediments swept away. The god, it seemed, was pleased with him. True to the fighting spirit of the Vindrasi, he stood on the smoldering rubble of his city and wondered how he could use this to his advantage.

The survivors would be left in disarray, bewildered and terrified, in desperate need. They would be searching for someone to lead them and, with the Priest-General dead and the Empress dead and no heir and no appointed successor, Sinaria was up for grabs.

Captain Anker stood before him, head bowed. He humbly begged Raegar’s pardon and asked what he could do. Raegar waved a magnanimous hand.

“I’m going below,” he announced. “Summon me when we reach port.”

He walked across the deck, feeling all eyes on him, feeling the respect, the fear. Word would spread when they reached Sinaria. The people would hear how Raegar had asked Aelon for a miracle and the god had granted his request.

He stood for a moment, basking in the sunlight, and then he went below to deal with Treia.

CHAPTER

13

Treia had been as astonished as any man on board
Aelon’s Triumph
to witness Raegar summon a sea monster from the deep and send it to destroy Skylan. She looked at Raegar, blinking at him with her weak eyes, and saw that he had changed. He was no longer a former slave, a foreigner, the hound beneath the table of great men, begging for scraps. He had attained greatness himself. He was, if not a god, godlike.

And where does that leave me? Treia wondered in despair.

As if in answer, when one of the soldiers asked Raegar what they were to do with her, he said coldly, without so much as a glance, “Take her to my cabin.”

The soldier escorted Treia to a small room below deck, shoved her inside, and closed the door and barred it. She peered around in the dim light, searching for dry clothes, for she was wet and cold and shivering. She found a robe, one of Raegar’s, that was much too big for her. She wrapped up in it, cocoon-like, lay on the cot that served as a bed, and wondered fearfully what would become of her.

She fell asleep and woke with a start to the sound of heavy footfalls, and the bar on the door lifted. Treia sat up, quaking. Raegar entered the room and stood frowning at her.

She tried to speak, but her throat closed. Raegar said not a word. He stood staring at her, coldly.

Treia cringed. “Thank you for saving me, my love.”

“Don’t call me your love!” Raegar said angrily. “You betrayed me! I heard the name of the god to whom you prayed when you summoned the dragon. Hevis was the name. You prayed to one of your savage, pagan gods and brought disaster upon us all!”

He paused, eyeing her, then said harshly, “Or perhaps, in your eyes, it wasn’t disaster. Perhaps you count the destruction of Sinaria a victory!”

“No! Oh, no, dearest!” Treia cried, alarmed. She reached out a shaking hand. “I wanted only to please you. I was desperate to please you. So desperate … I could not tell you the truth.”

“And what truth is that?” Raegar sneered.

Treia gave a weary sigh. “Aelon has no control over the spiritbones of the Vektia. Torval placed within the Five the power of creation in order to protect that power and keep it out of the hands of any other god who might try to usurp it. In order to gain the knowledge of the ritual to summon the Vektia dragon, I had to go to Hevis.

“If anything, he betrayed me,” she added bitterly. “Hevis promised the dragon would destroy the ogres. I had no idea the dragon would go rampaging through the city, destroying everything in its path. But now that we know the secret of the Five, my love”—she spoke the word timidly, greatly daring—“you know how to gain this power for yourself.”

“For Aelon, you mean,” said Raegar.

“Yes, for Aelon, of course,” Treia said meekly.

“Explain to me again this secret and what it means and how you came to discover it,” said Raegar.

He had been standing, looming over her, but now he sat down. Treia explained, recalling Skylan’s conversations with Aylaen, how Vindrash had given him the clue to the secret of the Five.

“The goddess was forbidden to tell him outright, because of the immense power that such knowledge gives to those who acquire the spiritbones. She had to drop clues, encourage him to think of it himself.”

“Then how do you know Skylan is right?” Raegar asked, frowning.

“Because it makes sense. It is logical,” said Treia. “Torval splits the power between the Five and then gives them to Vindrash, who makes certain the Five are separated, distributing four among the gods for safekeeping and giving one to the Vindrasi people. We know from past experience that other attempts to control one of the dragons led to destruction. Why go to such lengths to keep them apart? Because the Old Gods are weak and do not dare risk bringing them together for fear some stronger god will seize them.”

“As you say, it makes sense.” Raegar gave a frustrated shrug and added testily, “But I do not know what good knowing the secret about the Five spiritbones does us when we now have zero.”

“One is aboard the
Venjekar,
” Treia said. “The other…”

She paused, her voice trailed off. She stood unmoving, lost in deep thought.

“What?” Raegar demanded impatiently.

“The second spiritbone, the one the ogres stole from us. The
Venjekar
was sailing northward when Skylan suddenly altered course. He had the chance to escape the ogre ship, but he went back, risking almost certain death. Why?”

“Why does my whoreson cousin do anything?” Raegar snorted. “He wanted glory. To be a hero.”

“I am not so certain, my love. I recognized one of the ogres on board that ship,” said Treia. “It was the shaman in the black feather cape. He was with the ogres when they attacked our village. And he was the shaman who stole the Vektan Torque from Skylan. If the shaman was there—”

“Then maybe the Vektan Torque was with him!” Raegar exclaimed, bounding to his feet in excitement. The next moment, he threw himself glumly back into his chair. “Which means that now two of the spiritbones are in the belly of a kraken.”

“Aelon sent the kraken,” said Treia softly. “Aelon will lead you to the spiritbones, even though they lie far below the sea.”

Raegar sat silently, ruminating, then he rose again to his feet and began to rove restlessly about the small cabin.

“Why am I talking of spiritbones? I must think of Sinaria. We must provide the survivors with food and clothing and shelter or Sinaria will be a city peopled only by ghosts. I sent messengers to the other cities in Oran, requesting aid, but it will be weeks before that can reach us. In the meantime, there is so much to do—”

“And you are the person to do it,” said Treia.

She crept over to him and slipped her arms around him from behind. He did not return her embrace, but he did not push her away.

“When you called down Aelon’s curse on Skylan,” Treia said. “I saw you shine with the god’s glory.”

Raegar stirred and smiled, pleased to recall his moment of triumph. “Aelon’s spirit was with me. I felt it.”

“I saw the light surround you,” Treia went on, glad to please him. “I saw it shine from you. All men on board the ship saw it.”

Treia nuzzled her cheek against his back. “And when we return to Sinaria, everyone will see you shining with the god’s light. You are destined for greatness, my love. You are Aelon’s chosen. You will be the next Priest-General.”

Raegar sighed. “That is my dream, but I am a long way from fulfilling it. I will have to prove myself to the people, to the other priests. There is Thanos, Xydis’s son…”

“You won’t need to prove anything,” Treia said softly. “You won’t need to worry about Thanos. You know the secret to the Five, the secret that will give Aelon the power to vanquish his rivals. Your god needs you, my love. Aelon will raise you up.”

“I believe in Aelon. I have faith in him,” said Raegar. He turned to face her. “But what if the priests refuse to support me? Thanos was being groomed to be Priest-General. The god might choose him. I will look the fool. The priests will laugh at me, mock me. I will lose all that I have gained.”

“And what is that?” Treia said earnestly, clasping his hands in her own. “What have you gained? Their respect? Bah! Xydis made you a Warrior-Priest only to use you, manipulate you. You waded in the muck so that he could keep his boots clean. To him and to the others, you will always be an oaf, a savage, a slave. You will prove them wrong! You and Aelon! You have nothing to lose, my love. And
all
to gain.”

Treia was not beautiful, not even particularly attractive. She was nearsighted and had developed a squint. Her face was pale and unsmiling, tended to be severe. She was thin, spare, her breasts small. Raegar often questioned why he was drawn to her. She knew the reason—in her weak eyes, he shone with the god’s light.

“I love you, woman!” Raegar said huskily. “Aelon knows why, for you are a devious, conniving witch.”

“That is why you love me, my dear,” said Treia gently. She was still a little overawed by him, but she quickly added, “And that is why you will marry me.”

“Marriage?” Raegar drew back from her.

“The Priest-General should be married, my love,” said Treia. “Marriage will give you respectability, shelter you from scandal. Remember the rumors that circulated about Xydis, his bastard son…?”

Raegar remembered. He stood eyeing her, chewing on his lip.

“I will not tie you down,” said Treia, and deep within, she sighed. She knew she could not tie him down. “You know that. You know you can trust me.” She lowered her eyes. “And perhaps there will be children…”

“I will consider it,” said Raegar, but she saw that she had won him over. He grinned at her and, seizing hold of her, he sat down on the chair, with her on his lap. “As for babies, let us practice making one now.”

Treia smiled and kissed him. Their love-making gave pleasure to them both. Refreshed, Raegar went back above deck to see how
Aelon’s Triumph
was faring. The sailors reported that if the breeze held, they would reach Sinaria the next day. He paced the deck, plotting and scheming, while belowdecks Treia did the same. When darkness fell, he returned to her.

They shared a meal, and he told her of his plans. She made suggestions to which he listened and approved. They made love again and lay together on the cot that was scarcely big enough for two. Raegar was drowsy, wanting to sleep.