The Dragonswarm (16 page)

"As long as I have breath there is hope, Caleb. I just have to know."

"Then come," he said. "I know this area well enough. I'll show you the way."

We left the dragon's little gulch and quickly found the open, rolling plains of the southeast Ardain. The sky was overcast, full of clouds—fat, gray, and lazy—that drifted slowly from east to west. The sun was an angry orange burn stealing across behind them, but its light never broke through. The air was sharp and chill, and I shivered in my cloak as we pressed across the plains.

This far south the plains were trackless, covered in tall, wild grass that reached up to our chins. Caleb walked ahead of me, forging a path that cut through the grass straight as a blade. Late in the afternoon, as we were coming down out of the hills, we stumbled across a narrow, overgrown trail among the weeds.

Caleb walked right past without noticing, but somehow my eyes fell on the packed ground, marked here and there with a patch of gravel. I looked down at the old road for a moment, and then caught Caleb's shoulder. "We should go this way." I nodded in the direction of the road, more to the north than we had been heading.

He turned to look at me for the first time in hours, a question in his eyes at the interruption. He glanced at the road and then back to me. "Why?"

"There are people that way. We should go get them."

He looked down at the road again, looked off to the northwest where it led, then shrugged and turned back toward the wall of grass, continuing west. Over his shoulder he said, "What can we do? Warn them? Help them bury some of their dead? We can hardly save them."

I opened my mouth to retort...and stopped. I had no answer. He was right, of course. Perhaps I could save this little town, if I dedicated my life to it, but I owed my allegiance to another little town first.

And yet something within me was fighting even then to drag my steps toward that abandoned road. Something within me yearned toward any sign of other men. I couldn't shake it.

Caleb noticed my silence and at last he stopped. He turned back to me. "What?"

"I need...them. I need people, Caleb."

He frowned at me for a moment, then he tossed his head with a derisive snort. "Followers? Soldiers? You've got me. Be glad of that. But a townful of Ardain dirt farmers won't gain you much in a fight."

"No," I said. "No, I didn't mean that—"

He wasn't listening, though. He shook his head. "You don't really know what you're up against, do you? How long were you in their lairs? Have you seen the darkness that has spread across this land?"

As if on cue a shadow rose up against the sky, far off to the south. It soared from east to west, a full wing of dragons in flight. Little flares were visible from here when they breathed their deadly fire. I waved in the direction they had gone. "I know the threat. They come in endless numbers, they fight together or alone, and it takes a hundred men to kill one."

"I can kill one. I could perhaps kill a dozen."

I grinned. "I've seen you fight one, so I believe you could kill a dozen. But you are only one man."

"We are two," he said. "And you could kill a thousand."

I nodded slowly. "And that is not nearly enough. That's why we must find more men." He opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off. "Not farmers. Soldiers. There are soldiers enough in these lands. But I must go among men to find them."

"For what?" he growled. "Find men—
recruit soldiers
—for what? Are you so anxious to lead good men to their deaths?"

"I am leading you," I said.

He pressed his lips tight for a moment. "I am no good man, and I will welcome death when it comes for me. And even I don't hope for—" He stopped, then shook his head. "Have you ever had that responsibility? Have you ever watched a man die at your command?" His voice burned with an anger I had not caused.

"I cannot sit idly by. I must do something."

"What can you do, by yourself? What could you possibly hope to achieve? The world's already broken, and nowhere will be safe against that. No power can defy them all. Settle for something less—"

A piercing shriek suddenly split the silence of the afternoon, cutting him off. We both turned to look east toward the sound. A flight of dragons—five or six, all of them mature and none of them familiar—came soaring down from the mountains less than a mile away. They came flashing toward us, straight as an arrow over the path Caleb had carved through the tall grass.

Steel hissed on leather as he drew two swords. At the same time, I reached inside and borrowed Chaos. Chaos answered, bleeding that hammering power into my veins. It was not enough to fly, not enough really to face a flight of dragons, but there was enough to summon a sword. I stretched out a hand, and one of the iridescent black Chaos blades sprang fully formed in my grip.

There was enough to wrap myself in a cloak of air, too, but one heartbeat before I dropped it in place to disappear from their eyes, the lead dragon gave its piercing cry once more, and then the whole band of them veered off to the north. They swept around us in a wide, lazy circle. For a long time Caleb only stood and watched them fly, but I turned my attention back to the road and started walking toward the world of men.

When he caught up to me he grabbed my shoulder. "What was that? They
must
have seen us." For a while I walked in silence, thinking, but he caught my shoulder again and demanded, "Tell me."

"They were not Pazyarev's brood. But I think they know me. I think...I think perhaps they fear me. News spreads among them already."

He fell in step beside me, silent, and we walked for some time before he said, "A flight of dragons fears you. They
recognize
you?" He thought for a while, and there was awe in his voice when he spoke again. "You really know how to defeat them?"

"I have some ideas."

The silence returned, broken only by the sound of footsteps on the dry earth. Later, "I would have followed you to my grave, Daven, if it had meant a chance to kill even one of them in vengeance. But this...this is beyond reason."

I shrugged. "Leave, then. I won't keep you."

"No." He sounded thoughtful, serious. "But you're talking about doing the impossible. Postponing the inevitable. Man can do nothing to hold the dragonswarm at bay. It's hopeless."

I laughed, and in my head it sounded like the dragon's cruel laughter. "You've just described the life of man, Caleb. Forward and down, into the darkness, and we hold our heads high like victors."

Sometime later he said, "You are a hero or a madman. But if you will truly bring war against the dragons, I will give my life and count it an honor."

"And what of other men's lives, Caleb?" His earlier words burned hot and troublesome in the back of my head. They itched with an insight I couldn't quite grasp yet, but I could feel something like destiny dragging me down this road, and Caleb had already guessed what lay at its end. "If I need you to lead, will you lead good men to die in that war?"

It took him four paces to answer, and then he only grunted.

"I may ask it of you before this work is done."

"At least tell me what you plan," he said.

I took a deep breath and let it escape me. "I plan to follow this road back to the world of men."

He waited, expectant.

I shook my head. "I plan to find the survivors. And then...I'll see what I can do."

I had nothing more to offer. He thought upon it for a while, then he said quietly, "Whatever you ask. I'm your man."

An hour or two later the grass we walked through had lost a foot of its height, all the way to the horizon, and the road had gained a foot across. We came then across a little beaten path of earth, rutted from the wheels of a narrow cart, that cut back into the field to the east. This time when I tapped him on the shoulder and headed down the track, Caleb gave no objection at all.

A mile from the road sat a sad farm. Huddled among the wilderness grasses were a handful of humble acres of corn and potatoes and a pen of angry chickens that complained loudly at our approach. I watched the single, small house carefully as we went, and while we were still a long way off the door slammed open. A small man with a large crossbow waddled out onto a ten-plank porch. He held the crossbow high and sort of folded his body around it, but he seemed angry and afraid, and those together are always dangerous.

Caleb automatically reached for the crossbow on its hook at his belt, but I placed a calming hand on his arm and after a moment, reluctantly, he let it go. The old farmer watched us warily as we followed the path up to a crude gate. With exaggerated slowness I reached down and unlatched the gate, pushed it open, and stepped through. All the while the farmer watched.

I took another step into his yard, and he stepped down from the porch toward us, but he waved the crossbow threateningly and said, "I've got nothin' for you. Move along. There's nothin' here you'd want anyways."

"I want nothing but news, farmer. I'm not here to take anything—"

He snarled. "Shaddup, you!" He was about twenty paces away now, and if he had any skill at all with the crossbow he could hit a man from that distance. Caleb laid a heavy hand on my shoulder, trying to get my attention, but I shrugged it off and stepped forward.

I watched with my wizard's sight, focusing on the thin shaft of the crossbow bolt. I could destroy it mid-flight using nothing but its own natural energies. I tried to let that confidence sound in my voice. "We're humble travelers—"

The farmer snapped, "Don't you come any closer. I have
nothin'
for you, and I won't have you on my land."

I stopped. I tried to offer him a smile but ended speaking through gritted teeth. "I am no threat to you, good man. I would ask only water and some news. I'm sure you could spare me that much hospitality."

Caleb spoke behind me in a voice that barely reached my ears. "It's no good, Daven. Let's go." I took another step forward, but Caleb caught my elbow and pulled me back. "I mean it. This man will shoot you if we wait much longer. He is just a simple man, and he has no trust for strangers."

I remembered Caleb firing on me for no more reason. I threw him an irritated glare, and that was all the provocation the old man needed. I heard the twang of the string, saw the flash of energy in my wizard's sight, and a sudden hot rage billowed out of my heart. I reduced the bolt to splinters just as I'd done before, but the same casual effort of will blasted the crossbow apart in the farmer's hands.

Hot red blood flowed from a dozen tiny injuries on his hands and arms and face. The farmer fell in a heap, whimpering and covering his head with bloody hands. Caleb shouted something behind me, but I ignored him. I crossed the distance between us without really even willing it, until I stood looming over the farmer. His fear tasted sharp in the air. His humiliation sang in my blood.

I stood over him and asked again with a perfect politeness, "Please, good sir. At least tell us where we can find refuge." He moaned miserably and I prodded him with my foot. "Where does that road lead? Is there a town near?"

He trembled for a moment, then stabbed a hand out toward the north. "Chaaron. An hour's walk. But they won't...won't...."

"Won't what?" I asked. He glanced up at my smiling face and gave a miserable little cry.

I was about to ask again when Caleb's hand closed heavy on my shoulder. I frowned and turned on him, but his dark eyes stopped my cold. "They won't welcome us either," he said. "Still, I suspect we have to go."

I glanced down at the cowering farmer and felt a twinge of confusion and regret. A shiver chased down my spine, and Caleb nodded slowly as he watched it pass. "Go ahead," he said. "I'll catch up."

The farmer drew my attention again, and it was as though I were seeing him for the first time. His hands were caked red and brown with dust and blood, his face streaked and creased with fear. I looked around, saw the slivered remnants of the crossbow I'd destroyed—probably the man's only weapon in a suddenly dangerous world.

My heart began to hammer hard and fast. I licked my lips and shook my head. Caleb nodded slowly and waved toward the road again. "Go. I'll get him bandaged and follow after."

I hesitated for a heartbeat, then nodded my gratitude and turned away. Four paces across the lawn I broke into a run and went all the way back to the road at a desperate sprint. Then I fell to my knees among the tall grasses and pressed my eyes tight shut and fought for breath.

What had I done there? Why had I attacked the man? Even as I wondered the answer came loud and clear.
He was impudent and weak. Barely better than food
. The words felt right and true, even as I hated myself for thinking them. It was the dragon's voice. Not Vechernyvetr crowding into my mind. Not Pazyarev. Me. It was the dragon's voice in me.

It took a long time for the tremors to subside, for my breath to come naturally. I'd suspected it, hadn't I? How long
had
I spent in the dragon's lair? How much had I borrowed of Chaos, and how much did I owe it now?

At last I pushed myself back onto my heels and scrubbed both hands over my face. I climbed to my feet, blinking away the fear and darkness, and turned to find Caleb waiting still as a shadow in the middle of the road.

"Caleb..." I began, but I had no words to explain what I'd become.

He held my gaze and said, "Hero or madman, I'm with you."

I floundered for a moment, then gave up and turned north. We walked in silence, searching the fields of grass and winter wheat for some sign of Chaaron. As I went, I tried to prepare myself, to prevent a recurrence of the events at the sad little farm.

When I closed my eyes I could feel the billowing desires and emotions at war within me, and once again I found myself going through familiar motions, building up walls against a wicked voice in the back of my mind. But this time it was mine. This time it was me. And no matter how carefully I pinned it up, I feared the bindings could come undone in a heartbeat.

It was sunset before we saw another human structure, but there before us a great watermill turned lazily in the evening's crimson light. Less than a mile beyond we saw a sprawling farm complex some distance off the road, but by then the glow of fire and smudge of smoke were clear on the horizon to the north. A town.