The Fire Dragon
Authors: Katharine Kerr
The dragon leveled off her flight, banked one wing again, and turned in a lazy arc.
“Look down!” she called out.
Rhodry, astride her, saw far below a line of horsemen marching. Leading them was a huge raven.
“Horseskin!” Rhodry yelled.
“And Raena with them! Let's have a bit of sport!”
With a roar, the dragon plunged down.
Kicking, plunging, bucking, the horses tried to bolt. The Horseskin riders were yelling and clutching their saddle peaks to keep from being thrown. The dragon ignored them and swooped after the raven.
Shrieking, the raven dodged, darting this way and that, but steadily the dragon gained. With one last shriek the raven disappeared, bursting through some invisible gate to another world.
Arzosah turned in a wild arc. “Shall we go after them again?”
She skimmed the ground and charged them one more time. The men screamed, wrenched their horses' heads around, and let them run where they would. The dragon pulled up, gained height in a mad flap of wings, and flew fast away, chortling to herself. Rhodry tipped back his head and howled in berserk laughter.
Y
K
ATHARINE
K
ERR
Her novels of Deverry and the Westlands
DAGGERSPELL
DARKSPELL
THE BRISTLING WOOD
THE DRAGON REVENANT
A TIME OF EXILE
A TIME OF OMENS
DAYS OF BLOOD AND FIRE
DAYS OF AIR AND DARKNESS
THE RED WYVERN
THE BLACK RAVEN
THE FIRE DRAGON
Her works of science fiction
RESURRECTION
PALACE
(with Mark Kreighbaum)
For my grandfather
,
John Brahtin.
He gave me my social
conscience.
| Table of Incarnations |
| Part One —Deverry |
| Part Two —The North Country |
| Epilogue —The North Country |
| T HE C IVIL W ARS | E ARLY 1100S | M ID-1060S |
|---|---|---|
| Anasyn | Kiel | |
| Bevyan | Dera | |
| Bellyra | Carramaena | Jill |
| Branoic | (yet to appear) | Blaen of Cwm Pecl |
| Caradoc | (yet to appear) | |
| Lillorigga | Niffa | Rhodry |
| Maddyn | Rhodry | |
| Peddyc | Jahdo | Mallona |
| Merodda | Raena | Sarcyn |
| Burcan | Verrarc | Cullyn of Cerrmor |
| Owaen | (yet to appear) | Rhodda as a child |
| Pertyc Maelwaedd (in 918) | Lady Rhodda |
S
PRING
850
Deverry
The year 850. The gods saw fit to give our prince the
victory, but never had we dreamt how high a price they
would set for it.
—The Holy Chronicles of Lughcarn
S
unlight streamed into the tower room and pooled on the wooden floor. Grey gnomes with spindle legs and warty faces materialized in the warmth and lolled like cats. Despite his great age, Nevyn felt tempted to join them. He sat in the chamber's only chair and considered his apprentice, who was sitting cross-legged among the gnomes. She turned her face up to the sun and ran one hand through her blonde hair, which fell to her shoulders in a ragged wave.
“Spring's truly here,” Lilli said. “I'm so glad of it, and yet I dread summer. You must, too.”
“I do,” Nevyn said. “It won't be long now before the army rides out, and the gods only know what the battles will bring.”
“Just so. All I can do is pray that Branoic rides home safely.”
“You've grown truly fond of Branoic, haven't you?”
“I have. The prince doesn't like it much.” Lilli opened her eyes and turned to look up at him. “You don't think he'd do anything dishonorable, would you?”
“Prince Maryn, you mean? What sort of dishonor—”
“Letting Branno be killed in battle. Putting him in harm's way somehow. It sounds so horrid when I say it aloud. I can't imagine Maryn doing such a thing, truly. I'm just frightened, I suppose, and it's coloring my fancies.”
“No doubt.” Nevyn hesitated, wondering if her fear were only fancy or some half-seen omen. As apprentices so often did, she picked up his thought.
“I've been meaning to ask you somewhat,” Lilli went
on. “You know how the omens used to come to me? I'd be sewing or thinking of some ordinary thing, and then all of a sudden the words would come bursting out of my mouth?”
“I remember it well.”
“It doesn't happen anymore.”
“Good.” Nevyn smiled at her. “It's a common thing, that a person marked for the dweomer will have some wild gift, but when she starts a proper course of study, she loses the knack. Later, once you truly understand what you're doing, the gift will return to you.”
“I see. To tell you the truth, I'm just as glad. I'd be terrified if I could see—well, you know—someone's death.”
“Just so.” Nevyn hesitated, thinking. It was likely that if grave harm befell either the prince or her betrothed, she would know, no matter how far away she was. He decided that worrying her the more would serve no purpose and changed the subject. “I need to be on my way. The prince is holding a council—at noon, he said, so I suppose I'd better get myself there.” He stood up, stretching his arms above his head. “You may finish the lesson I set you from the dweomer book.”
“Those awful lists?”
“I realize that the memory work is tedious.” Nevyn arranged a mock-fierce expression. “But those calls and invocations will come in handy some fine day. Learn that first page for today.”
