[Lanen Kaelar 03] - Redeeming the Lost (32 page)

The Black Dragon cried out briefly in pain
then, as pure Fire, sacred to the Kantri, took Treshak to sleep on the Winds
with her lost Aidrishaan. I saw something small drop to the earth and marked
where it fell. The great black thing pulled out of its dive, and flapping
clumsily but otherwise unconcerned, it returned to its eastward course as if
nothing had happened. It ignored me. It ignored the great mass of the Restored,
flying high above and watching in agony.

“Back. Go back. This will not be overcome by
fury, my people,” I said sternly. “Let us go back and think how we may defeat
this creature, lest we all be taken down into darkness.”

“We will not let it go, Shikrar
!
” cried Naikenna, the Eldest of the Restored after Treshak.

“I do not ask it of you, Naikenna. Follow at a
distance and mark where it flies,” I said sadly. “And bespeak us, as we will you.
We will follow soon. I pray you, use what restraint you may and do not attack
the creature again as Treshak did.” I could not conceal the deep grief that
weighed down my heart. “We have longed for your Restoration for many lives of
our people. I pray you, do not desert us for the sake of vengeance. We will
find another way to destroy the creature, we will all bend our minds to it—I
beg you, practice what Disciplines you may, Restraint and Calm if you can bear
them, Forbearance if all else fails, but I beg you, do not go down into death
for no purpose.”

“We will do what we may,” said Naikenna
coldly. “Follow soon.” And she closed her mind to me.

I turned back sadly and flew low, coming to
land where I had marked the fall of Treshaks soulgem. It took me only a little
time to discover it where it lay at the side of a field, half buried in mud. I
wiped it clean on the grass and gazed into the depths dreading what I might
find.

Clear. It was clear.

I breathed again. There was no flicker, she
was not trapped again, it was like all the soulgems of those who have gone
before. I gave silent thanks to the Winds from the depths of my heart, clutched
it to my chest, and flew back to Timeth’s field and my own people. I bespoke
all of the Kantri and told them what had happened, in every detail. We needed
to know what we faced.

It was in my heart to speak with Salera as
well. She was proven disastrously correct in the vision she had revealed to us.
If she knew aught of the creature we faced, or could assist us in any way, I
would beg it from her before we left.

My father’s words were meant to help us
understand, and they did, but we all work differendy. Some at least there were
who became desperately afraid. I could understand, for we all felt horribly
exposed, resting as we were in the northern end of Farmer
Timeth’s field. Nearly thirty souls rose up when Hadreshikrar described
Treshak’s passing, their weariness forgotten, scattering in all directions as
their fear took them, seeking shelter in hills, in caverns, in the heart of
whatever forest they might find. I could not blame them. If I had had neither
mate nor youngling, I might have even made one of their number.

My father returned soon with Treshak’s soulgem
and reverently made room for it in one of the casks that contained all the
others of our people who slept on the Winds.

The rest of us took what courage we could
muster and did what small tasks there were to do before we departed, clearing
away the remains of our feeding, taking a long drink ere we set off after the
Dhrenagan and whatever dark destiny awaited us.

It was in this hour that my mate Mirazhe
proved the usefulness of forethought. She had spent the morning arranging for
the lan-sip trees and seedlings, which had been carried at such great cost of
weariness across the Great Sea, to be planted in a large corner of Timeth’s
field. We watered them in by the mouthful, carried from the nearby stream. By
the time we needed to leave, the lan-sip was as well cared for as we could
manage. It was an important task for many reasons, the practical among them,
but to me at that moment it was a powerful expression of faith in our future.
Lan-sip, Lanen had taught me, was worth more to the Gedri than its weight in
silver; with it, we might have some useful coin in which to treat with those
who must see our arrival as a kind of invasion.

The trick with lansip is, of course, that it
cannot flourish except in the presence of the Kantri. I do not wish to be
crude, but it had astounded me over the centuries that those Gedri who had come
to our island and taken seedlings or saplings back with them, against all
experience (for the young trees always died), had never considered the matter
of—fertilizer.

Farmer Timeth, however, had summoned his
courage and come out to ask what we were doing to his land. He did not object,
especially when we told him what kind of trees they were. He watched carefully
and said he’d do all he could to look after them, but as I had learned from
Lanen how valuable lansip leaves were to the Gedri, I would not follow our fate
eastwards without making certain that the trees would be protected. Some of our
number would have to stay, and one choice at least was obvious. The youngest of
us, and his mother, must remain behind.

My parting from my beloved Mirazhe and our
young son Sherok was the darkest and most desperate moment of my Me, and I will
not dwell upon it. Her spirit showed its true colours in that evil time, for I
knew well that she would have come with us in a moment had it not been for
Sherok, and because he was there she would not leave his side. He had barely
seen six full moons, and already he had crossed the Great Sea. He should have
been running on grass and diving in shallow pools for many years, not having to
hide from death and danger. My beloved swore to keep herself and him safe and
far from harm. A few others also decided to stay, for they were kind and would
not leave Mirazhe and Sherok alone.

I was also intent on making certain that
Dhretan agreed to remain behind. He was the youngest apart from my son, and
although he had come of age he was yet very young in spirit. I was forced to
take him aside and ask him to protect my beloved Mirazhe before I could make
him stay. I warned her that I had convinced him so, and I delighted to hear her
mindvoice lilt with delight as she assured me she would do her best to appear
helpless for Dhretan’s sake. At least for a few hours.

My father rose up and flew the short miles to
Verfaren, there to collect the Kantri and Gedri who sought the demon-master Berys.
It seemed that, at least for the moment, our paths lay together, but I did not
doubt that we would be parted ere long. I wished them good fortune, but in the
face of the dark evil that threatened to overwhelm us all I am ashamed to admit
that all my care was for the Kantri. A single Gedri life, even that of so dark
a soul as Berys, suddenly seemed to weigh little in the balance.

When all was done that might be done, I again
bespoke Naikenna, who gave me the best directions she could, and as the sun rode
down into the west, we rose and followed our destiny eastwards into the rising
dark.

Even at the time I thought of it as the Last
Flight of the Kantrishakrim. Only a hundred and fifty of us took to the air,
singing a wordless song of battle and determination and courage.

The legend of the Black Dragon was simple and
terrible. From our earliest times, it had been said that the Doom of the Kantri
would rise up, in shape and form as one of us, pure black in hue, but with
killing fire in its veins. A great battle would rage in the sides above
terrible mountains like talons of our enemies, but it would last no more than a
single day, sunrise to sunset—and when it was done, when the Eldest of the
Kantri fell from the sky, then would come our doom and the ending of the world.

To say that I was torn barely touches the
surface. My heart was raging, now in one direction, now in another. I knew that
safety lay with Mirazhe and those few of the Kantri who were going to remain in
the west. That delightful vision of peaceful rest among the gardens of Elimar
had seduced me, in my heart of hearts I was willing Shikrar and the others to
get on and leave, and then that damned Black Dragon showed up.

I heard them, of course. The Bestored had
yelled “Demon-lord” so loud I’m surprised Rikard hadn’t heard it. And then they
all took off after it—sweet Shia, only bloody dragons would fly as fast as they
could towards their greatest enemy! Anyone with sense would run the other way.
I was ready to do just that, with a song in my heart, but then I hit the stone
wall that was my husband.

He had turned to me, his harrowed soul in his
eyes, and said, “I must go, Lanen.”

“What?” I said, confused. “Go where?”

“It is the legend. When the Black Dragon
rises, filled with killing Fire, a great battle will come—the great battle—and
with it our doom.” He bowed his head and added quietly, “Our doom, and the
ending of the world.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” I snapped. “I don’t
care how powerful it is, it can’t bloody well bring the world to an end.” I
spat, disgusted. “Legends indeed! Legends are no more than stories, and they
grow with every telling. If there is a grain of truth in your legend, it’s more
than I expect.”

“Natheless, kadreshi, I must go with them,” he
replied, abstracted. “A moment. Shikrar bespeaks me. Even now Treshak flies to
do battle with—no!”

I winced. I heard that as well, saw as if I
flew with him the dreadful images that Shikrar was sending. Treshak bursting
into flame, unable to escape, choosing the Swift Death after surviving so many
long ages trapped and Lost. It was terrible, it was heartrending, and it set
Varien’s resolve as nothing else could have done. “Surely you see it, Lanen?”
he said, trying to sound reasonable. “Would you have me wait with you, safe and
at our ease, while those I love face death?’

That was it. Here I was, shaking with terror,
and he wanted to play the hero. As usual, I turned fear into anger. Anger is so
much easier to deal with.

“And what will you do, while they are
fighting?” I asked, suddenly furious. “What can you do against the Black Dragon
that they cannot? Where are your wings, to fly against it as your people will?”
I cringed even as I said that. It was a cruel thing to throw in his face, but
just at that moment I’d use any weapon I could reach. “Has it occurred to you
that the nearer we come to Berys, the nearer I come to death?” I cried. “Why
put Shikrar and Jamie to the bother of saving me if we are going to go back
into the teeth of that evil? Will you throw even our children on the pyre of
your loyalty to the Kantri?”

“Enough,” Varien growled.

“No, it’s not enough,” I snarled in return. “We
said we’d speak truth to each other, Varien, no matter what,” I reminded him. “The
Kantri five too long! You, even you lose track of how fleeting life can be.” I
could no longer control my voice, it shook so that I could barely speak. “I
fear Berys to my bones, Akor. He wants me for a sacrifice. He said he’d take my
soul, wed whatever is left—though I suppose he’d have to murder you first—and
use my
blood for Goddess knows what.
By now Marik has surely told him of my pregnancy.” I was shaking head to foot
now, my arms wrapped about me as they had been in that terrible cell. “Goddess,
how can you ask it of me?”

“I ask nothing of you,” he said, his voice utterly
calm, his gaze cold now and shuttered. “Wait here in safety. I will bespeak you
when there is news, and if I survive I will return as swiftly as I may.”

“Damn you!” I screamed. “Did you hear a word I
said?”

“Of course. If you fear Berys, you need not be
anywhere near him. Mirazhe will be glad of your company, as will young Sherok.”

I reached out with my mind, but his was closed
to me. I could not reach him. Oh Hells. Is he lost to me, so suddenly? I was
shaking, whether with fear or anger I couldn’t be certain. Just like that, to
have him turn from me?

“You must do as your heart tells you,” he said
quietly. “So must I.”

Thank the Goddess, just then he reached out to
touch my cheek, and his hand trembled as well. “There are some things in this
world, Lanen, that must take precedence even over the truest love that ever
was. For all that I have the form of a child of the Gedri, I am yet the Lord of
the Kantrishakrim, the King of my people. I have been so for more than seven
hundred winters. How then? Shall I turn my back on my people in their hour of
need? Even if I cannot fly into battle, yet I know them. I know their hearts.
If I am with them, I may not make any real difference to the battle, but, Lanen”—he
reached out for my hand and held it between his two as gently as if it were a
rose—“if I am a thousand leagues from them and they facing the worst evil our
race has ever known, how shall they have the heart for battle? The Kantri
choose their King in each generation. It is a sacred I rust. I cannot break it,
kadreshi,” he said, and his voice shook just a little, “even if keeping faith
with my people breaks my own heart and yours.”

For a fleeting moment as I reached my own
decision, I wished with all my soul that we had been willing just this once to
stick to comforting lies; that just this once we might have done what we wished
rather than what was right.