The sellswords liked to watch, she saw, applauding the boy’s successes. The scarred one called the Butcher was travelling with them, and the bespectacled one called the Baker, and the two men under their charge. The rest of the Bloody Traders sailed in another barge, under the rule of the Surgeon, a small man of plain countenance who commanded a small host of oddities, not least this tall Tigress woman who had caused such discord among the men. Well, perhaps I should make friends with her, Talasha reflected. Us fellow disruptors must stick together.
The Surgeon and his band of comely killers shared their boat with a mix of spearmen, archers, paladin knights with their camels, horses and a few other Lightborn, with their sunwolves and starcats, who hated the water most of all. The rest of the men squashed into the last and largest barge, with the remainder of the animals. If one ship was to go down, Talasha supposed it would be best if it was that one. Those were the men who distrusted her the most, and frankly, they were of scant importance to her. Good men, I’m sure, but their lives do not matter. Only Saska mattered to Talasha, she and her captains. The rest she could do without.
The minutes dawdled sedately by, the last hour passing without incident. Talasha could see men appearing at the jetties on the northern shore, waiting to anchor the barges. A small ferry-town huddled about the banks, nestled in among the trees of the Green Cloak, the forest that bordered the lake. Just beyond that, the trees had been cut back, and the lands opened out, spreading into pastures and plains, split by a wide wagon track that would lead back toward the Capital Road that hugged the Aramatian coast.
“They made it,” Cevi said, yawning. “That last hour…it went so quickly, my lady.”
Because you were dozing. Talasha had decided not to keep fighting that battle and just let the girl sleep.
“Will we land to talk to them?”
“Later.” The only times she joined the company was by night, once they had made camp, or if one of them hailed her. Then she would swoop down and hear what they had to say, but that happened rarely, and only when there was a problem. “We’ll wait until they stop for the evening.”
“Will they stop here?” She could hear the hope in Cevi’s voice. The town was not large, but seemed cosy enough and would offer them a pleasant sanctuary through to dawn. There were some places in the world where you still wondered if there was a war going on at all. This was one of them. The town looked unmolested, and she could see villagers going about their chores. Old crones weaving baskets. Women picking along the shore, searching for crabs and clams among the rocks. There were some small fishing boats on the water, fighting off the birds as they tried to get at their catch. Three men in aprons were butchering the carcass of a large seal, she saw, and many were gathering now to help unload the barges as they came in. She caught sight of woodchoppers in the trees as well, and fruit-pickers with bags slung around their shoulders, working the orchards. It was a pretty place, the princess decided. A part of her hoped it stayed that way, though the rest of her knew it wouldn’t. Eventually some creature would come prowling, or they’d be set upon by bandits. That was just the way of it these days. Nowhere can escape that shadow, she thought.
“They may,” she merely said, in answer to Cevi’s question. “But there’s another three hours of daylight left, so they might choose to get back on the road. The coast is only fifteen miles from here. If they’re quick, they’ll make it by dusk.”
That was not for her to decide, though. She was an observer and an outsider, more of a guardian than a guide, and had told herself that she would not interfere lest she must.
The barges were soon being pulled in and fastened, the men stepping eagerly onto the docks. After that, the horses and camels and other animals were unloaded. The few starcats that travelled with them did not wait their turn, scrambling at once over the sides of the boats to dash away into the trees, leaping and jumping and stretching their legs. Talasha could see Saska down there, shaking her head and laughing as Joy ran for a tall sentinel tree and climbed frantically up into the branches, as though needing to expend all the pent-up energy accumulated during the crossing.
They continued to circle all the while, taking a wide gliding arc around the company to watch as they disembarked. After another two circuits all the men and mounts were ashore and saddling up to continue up the track. Tantario and his quartermaster were standing with a few costermongers, buying food from a line of wagons, and some of the others were refilling their stocks of fodder for the animals, to be carried by a small troop of packhorses. The rest were already moving up the road through the ferry-town, as more of the villagers tried to hawk their wares; handmade jewellery and homespun clothes, local liquors and wines of questionable vintage, oils and ointments, salts and spices, hides and pelts and furs.
There were few takers, though. Most of the men simply ignored them, riding on by. One of the sellswords - the one called Scalpel, it looked - had taken his wife Savage to peruse the jewellery, and the girl Leshie appeared fascinated by a cloak of red feathers, but elsewise they rode right on. Soon Tantario and his men had completed their resupply and were mounting up to join them, and after that they formed into their columns and continued at a light canter up the road and into the plains.
Talasha made to follow, flying high over the tops of the trees. There was a hot wind on the air, and above them some ugly clouds were gathering, staring down with menacing smiles. She had not often seen clouds like them. Such twisted shapes and unruly motion. There had been thunder one night, and it had sounded like laughter to her ears, the wild cackling of some unseen god. In her mind she saw only Agarath, red and dreaded in his wrath, and it had made her shiver and curl her knees up to her chest, a terror running through her.
It was a foul thing to live in fear of your own god, she mused, as they glided above the host. Were the Vandarians ever the same? The Tukorans? Rasalanians? Did their gods ever give them sleepless nights as well?
“My lady, they are hailing us,” said Cevi, interrupting her thoughts. Talasha looked down. Below, she could see arms waving for her, calling her to join them. She gave Neyruu a silent command and the dragon descended, landing up the road from the host, suitably far so as not to frighten the animals. “Stay here,” she told Cevi, as she unstrapped herself and dismounted. She paced down the track toward the host.
Some of the captains rode out to meet her; Saska Varin, Tantario, the Whaleheart, a few others. She sensed concern among them. “Is there trouble?” she called out.
“Dark wings in the distance,” Sunrider Tantario replied. He gestured back in the direction of the lake. “A dragon has been sighted.”
“Where?”
“To the west, before the clouds came in. A dark shape, with flashes of violet.”
Talasha frowned. “Violet?” She threw her eyes back at Neyruu, who was tensing now, lifting her head and looking around. Talasha felt a dull pain flare in her side. Her heart gave a thump. “How long ago was the dragon seen?”
“A few minutes. The beast was far, many miles away. But approaching, Sir Ralston says.”
Sir Ralston. Of course it had been the giant who’d sighted the dragon first. That man was always on edge. “Take cover in the trees,” Talasha warned them. Her voice was sharp. “Quickly. I will lead him away.”
“Him?” Saska Varin looked worried. “Who, Talasha?”
“Paglar. He has found us.” She saw the puzzled faces, though did not have time to explain. “Go. Now. I will lead him off and then return.” She turned and ran.
Cevi was looking down from the saddle, her face cast in terrible worry. “My lady, what is happening? Neyruu is afraid.”
Talasha could feel it, the thrumming in the dragon’s heart. A rumble crackled through the sky, that wild laughter of Agarath the All-Father. It was coming from the west. The clouds were thick out there, black as tar and twisted. She scrambled right up Neyruu’s flank, past the three deep gouges torn by Paglar’s talons, and fastened herself into the saddle. Fly, she thought, and Neyruu took off running, flapping her wings, soaring at once into the skies, each wingbeat taking them higher. Within a few moments the company were receding below them, making for the trees. Saska was lingering behind, staring up at her in confusion. Go, Talasha thought to her. Go. Hide. I will not let him find you.
Neyruu banked and made back for the lake, and suddenly Saska Varin and the rest were gone from view, lost among the trees. The storm seemed to have come from nowhere, as though spat down from the ether by some foul sky demon, coughing out blackness and hate. Cevi still wasn’t understanding. “My lady, where are we going?” she asked, in half a panic. “I don’t understand. Are we leaving them? I thought…”
“Paglar has found us, Cevi. We need to lead him away from Saska.”
“Paglar?” she squeaked. “No. He will kill us, my lady. If he catches us…”
“He won’t catch us.” Neyruu was much the quicker dragon and would be able to outmanoeuvre him, as she had in Eldurath the day they’d escaped. “We’ll fly him back west and lose him there.” Standing and fighting was not an option. Neyruu was quicker, but Paglar at least three times larger, and would make short work of her if he got her in his jaws.
Talasha narrowed her eyes against the fierce wind, the air tugging at her cloak and hair. Below them, the blue-grey waters of the lake were growing restless, white caps appearing, waves sloshing against the banks. She caught a glimpse of the villagers from the ferry-town throwing tarps over their wagons and calling in the fishing boats. The world had gone suddenly gloomy, just like that, the trees swaying and bending in the wind, the birds screaming and flying away in their flocks. It was as though some fell god had come, reaching out to embrace the lake in its long dark shadow.
“I see him,” Cevi whimpered.
Talasha looked and saw him too. Paglar was coming right for them, smoke-grey and purple and powerful, closing quickly.
“How did he find us, my lady?” Cevi wailed. “It’s been weeks. How could he track us so far?”
Eldur, Talasha thought. He had set Ezukar to hunting Elyon Daecar and unleashed Zyndrar the Unnatural upon his father Amron too. She had little doubt that Paglar had been instilled with the same single focus; to track her down and kill her. And we must hope it is just me he wants, she thought.
“He’s getting closer,” Cevi said. “We should turn back, lead him to the company. The Bladeborn…they will kill him, my lady. The giant…he has killed dragons before.”
One dragon, she thought. And a small one, no bigger than Neyruu. “We can’t take that risk.”
Cevi continued to wail and whimper behind her, begging and pleading, but she ignored her, focusing on her quarry. The dragon was closing on them fast, his wing-skin rippling in the wind as he flew. Twin horns curved back from the sides of his head, dark and demonic, and from his neck and shoulders jutted a hundred savage spikes. The breath stilled in Talasha’s lungs. Was he bigger than before? There was something strange about him, something different, nightmarish. Even from here she could see the red light of his eyes, burning like twin suns in that smoke-grey skull.
“Hold on, Cevi,” she called. “Hold on tight. We’re going to fly above him.”
