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Authors: Christopher Rowley

BOOK: The Dragons of Argonath
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The emperor sat in his favorite old navigator's chair, but he seemed shrunken, worn down by the woes of ruling his unique empire. In truth, he was still recovering from the wounds he'd suffered at Quosh.

"It has come at last," he said in a voice filled with sorrow. "And it has come in Aubinas, which is worse. They're a stubborn lot." Pascal had tried everything he could think of to keep this from happening, but the damned Aubinans could see a golden future for themselves as a grain-rich province surrounded by hungry customers, and they were determined to cash in.

The fact that but for the other provinces of the Argonath they'd be at the mercy of the most terrible enemy in history did not impress the Aubinans. They thought themselves completely safe, and able to fully exploit their captive markets. Their selfishness was singularly shortsighted.

"We predicted this would happen," said Ribela, still angry with the emperor. She had warned him about the Aubinans throughout her tenure as chief of the Office of Unusual Insight. She still felt that the emperor had failed to act decisively enough.

And, in truth, Pascal did blame himself to an extent. He'd thought to circumvent the rebellion by using that ill-fated Imperial Progress to reaffirm the Imperial "idea" among all the people of the Argonath.

In fact, the situation across the Empire of the Rose was close to optimal. They had weathered the worst the enemy could throw at them by defeating the grand invasion at Sprian's Ridge. They had eliminated the terrible threat posed by Heruta Skash Gzug's experiments in Eigo. Their allies in the far west were pressing the enemy hard, and they themselves were besieging his mighty fortress in the White Bones Mountains.

Meanwhile the economies of the nine cities were growing smoothly while the frontier lands of Kenor were returning quickly to the plow. Pascal had thought he could arouse the people's enthusiasm by his sudden appearance in all the nine cities. By showing himself, he'd hoped to focus everyone's attention on their successes. Alas his rash maneuver had ended in near total disaster. Not only had he nearly been killed, but the sudden end to his progress had spawned a thousand rumors, some of which contained part of the truth, that he'd been attacked and wounded by an enemy infiltration force.

"Is there a connection with our new enemy?" he said, turning to Lessis, trying to deflect the criticism he felt from Ribela. He knew she had a valid point. He had been in something of a state of shock during her tenure at the Office. The losses in Eigo were devastating, and that was all there was to say about them.

Lessis looked and sounded grave. "We do not know for certain. Our resources in the ranks of the Aubinan rebels are scant. They have proved well able to avoid penetration."

"A very close-knit group," said Ribela. "All rich men, a club of them, who share harsh views of society and the poor. They have considerable wealth, and the power and sway that comes with it."

"Wexenne of Champery," said Lessis. "He is at the center of much of the discontent."

"Ah, Faltus Wexenne, yes, he has a thick file. An advocate of the importation of slaves to labor in the fields."

"A man of great financial acumen, driven by colossal greed and enormous egoism. A most dangerous opponent."

"Indeed, old friend," said Ribela. "We have not penetrated his circle."

"Wexenne, Porteous Glaves, Caleb Neth, and Salva Gann," Lessis recited the names dully, "these four are the heart of the thing. I thought we had Glaves disposed of at last, but treachery has been at work in the city of Marneri."

The emperor nodded and stroked his beard. "What can we do? What practical advice do you have for me?"

Lessis tented her fingers before her face, as if she wished to hide.

"We feel that it is bound to come to a fight. The Aubinans will use violence, even if we don't. Therefore we should strike first and try to dismantle the rebellion before it spreads."

"You're thinking of Arneis as the next likely rebellion?"

"Yes, but not exclusively. We have a similar problem in Arneis and in Kadein. All through the grain markets of Kadein, in fact, we have republican sentiments of increasing strength. They can see fabulous profits if they were to be allowed to rig the markets and bid up prices. Under Imperial controls this is denied them."

"Mmm. Have we perhaps controlled the markets too much?" said the emperor. "Have we created an artificiality in these markets? Is too much grain chasing too few customers? Are prices so low the farmers can't make a good living?"

"We do not think so, Your Majesty," said Lessis. "The farms across Aubinas and Arneis are prospering mightily. They fear the development of Kenor, of course, for they know it will break their control of the grain markets. But there will always be strong markets for barley and wheat, and the lands are very prosperous. The markets are regulated, it is true. We try to keep prices even from year to year, since we believe that stable food prices are a benefit to society. The Aubinans seek to make a killing by withholding grain to push up prices. They also intend to slow down or even prevent the development of Kenor. Some of their extremists have declared their intention of conquering Kenor and detaching it from the empire."

"How do they plan to do that? They do not have sufficient military strength."

"That has been the puzzle. Now we will see what strength they really have."

"How should we respond? What is your advice?"

"It's Up to the military now. They have planned for this eventuality. They will move at once to crush the rebels."

"The Legion of the Red Rose will be mustered. Transports gathered at once. I think we can reinforce Marneri within one month."

"There are Marneri regiments in rest status in the Blue Hills and at Dashwood. Plus there's a couple of dragon squadrons: one in the city itself and another at Dashwood."

"Good point. I hadn't thought of it, but do the Aubinans have dragons?"

"Unlikely, Your Majesty. We'd have sniffed that out, I think. Not easy to raise and train wyverns for war without the secret getting out."

"They might have trolls. The Aubinan grain lords have bought trolls before," said Ribela.

"Mmm. And we don't know what our new enemy is doing, or do we? What do you think, Lady?" Pascal searched Lessis's face as he spoke. All he saw there was the almost inhuman calmness she projected at times of crisis.

"I think he will be involved, somehow. The Aubinan crisis has recently swelled in importance. I think that tells us something. The Dominator is among us, but working secretly. He knows how to bring down a world like ours. He knows that the methods of the Masters are somewhat self-defeating. He will be hidden deep in their plot somewhere."

"Then, we face a terrible test."

"We do, Your Majesty. That is the absolute truth."

 

Chapter Thirty-one

After morning inspection, a fierce-looking Cuzo called Relkin into his office. Relkin closed the door behind him a little nervously.

"Dragoneer Relkin, I have the sad duty to inform you that you are to stand trial in ten days' time. The case involves the theft of gold bullion from the natives of a far-off land."

Relkin shrugged inwardly. Lagdalen had warned him this would come. Aubinan money had been freely sloshed around in the higher ranks of the Marneri military apparatus. A court-martial was inevitable. So he and his advocate would appear and ask for a delay while testimony was sought from the far-off lands of Mirchaz and Og Bogon.

"From what I know of you, Dragoneer, I'm sure you took the gold." Cuzo's narrow forehead crinkled in a frown. "But I'm equally sure you probably deserved it." Cuzo was actually smiling.

Relkin was unused to smiling dragon leaders, so it took him a moment to respond in kind.

"Thank you, Dragon Leader."

"No, I want to thank you, Dragoneer. I confess that I was concerned when you returned from Eigo, alive when everyone thought you dead. I feared that you would be an unruly element in the unit. You have a long service record with any number of field decorations. You deserve promotion. Unfortunately you were away when the leadership of the 109th came open. They chose me, and that's put me in a difficult position now that you've come back."

Relkin kept his mouth firmly shut.

"Well, I can tell you this much, the next promotion to dragon leader in the Marneri Legions will go to you."

"And my dragon will accompany?"

"I don't think they will try and separate the Broketail dragon from his dragonboy. More fools they, if they even think of doing it."

Relkin nodded, he hoped so, though occasionally dragons were separated from their tenders by the process of promotion. Of course, it would be hard work taking the helm of another dragon squadron and keeping the leatherback in tip-top condition at the same time.

"But we will have to get along as we are until then. And with this damned rebellion in Aubinas, I think we will be busy before long."

Relkin jumped at this.

"You mean we won't be going to Axoxo?"

"Not this year, lad, they'll be sending us to Aubinas any day now. You may not even have to attend this court date next week if we're put on active duty as quick as I suspect. They'll shift the case to later in the year. The Aubinas matter will take precedence over everything."

"Suspected that might happen, sir, but we won't miss going to Axoxo. Miserable cold it is up there."

"Yes, Dragoneer, you're right about that. Instead of freezing our behinds off, we'll be hunting down rebels in Aubinas. Probably see some fighting."

"The 109th has never worried too much about that. As long as dinner is plentiful, this unit loves to fight."

"I've noticed," said Cuzo with a dry smile.

Relkin left Cuzo and went back to the stall. Bazil was down at the armorer's getting refitted for cuisse and greaves, since new styles of both pieces of armor had just been released. They were lighter and less cumbersome than the old, but just as protective. The steel plate was rippled in an accordion-like pattern, giving great strength to thinner plate.

He tried to clear his thoughts, torn between elation at the thought of missing the winter in Axoxo and concern about a campaign in Aubinas. It was bad to be fighting one's own people. Still, one thing was clear. If they were fighting in Aubinas, the food and beer would be fantastic. Aubinas was one of the richest provinces in the Argonath. Dragons would like that.

Relkin noticed that he had two knots tied in his handkerchief, meant to prompt his memory. He was so excited, however, that for the moment neither knot meant anything.

The idea of promotion was intoxicating. At last he'd be a dragon leader! And he'd stay with Bazil, though they'd be in a new unit. They'd miss their old friends in the 109th. Hell, they'd been together for longer than a lot of dragon squadrons lasted. Best of all, a promotion was one thing that would really help him with the Wattels. He would be a dragon leader, not just a dragonboy. They would respect that.

And even though there was to be a court-martial, maybe it wouldn't hurt. First off, it was likely to be postponed until after the Aubinan campaign. Secondly, if he was tried for having a bit of gold tucked away, that might actually help with the conservative old Wattels. They were a thrifty clan, but they hadn't seen much gold in their hills in a long, long time.

His good spirits continued. Even if they did have a court-martial, he thought that the testimonials from King Choulaput and whoever might be ruler in Mirchaz now would bail him out of trouble. Sure, he had brought home some gold, but the gold he'd brought from Mirchaz was taken from the fallen elf lords. He had paid the importation taxes on it and registered it, just as he had with the gifts from King Choulaput. Relkin had done everything nice and legal, except for that little sack of gold he had buried out on the road, and that was just in case they lost everything else.

Best of all, they weren't going to Axoxo. Like everyone else, he'd been dreading a year on the siege line at Axoxo. Even doubled freecoats and woolen face masks wouldn't be enough in deep winter up in those mountains. That was enough to make any dragonboy dance a jig.

And then the knots suddenly snapped into focus, and he remembered what they were for.

The first one was to remind him to investigate the state of the new scabbard that was being made for Ecator. The old one was literally falling to pieces after the wear and tear of the campaign in Eigo.

He could have had a legion issue scabbard, but Ecator was not a legion issue blade. It was longer and heavier and wouldn't fit well in a legion scabbard. Moreover Lessis had bidden him to remember that this scabbard would be housing her friend, the sprite Ecator, that haunted the blade.

Relkin had seen enough of the blade to believe that it was truly inhabited by a presence. Ecator would therefore need an elf-made scabbard, with the runes of his own kind inscribed on the inside.

Accordingly he had ordered a scabbard from a blacksmith in the Elf Quarter, over behind the imposing facade on the north side of Tower Street. He had made the knot to remind himself to get over to the smithy and check on their progress.

The second knot was to remind him to go to Lagdalen's office. There were scrolls to read, affidavits to witness, and lots of things to discuss with regard to the court-martial. By default, Lagdalen had become his attorney. Nothing else had even been considered. Lagdalen saw it as an outgrowth of the Glaves's case, and since the Glaves's case was technically over, she and her office had plenty of time and energy to put into Relkin's defense.

It was time to get moving. When the dragon came back from the armorers, there'd be the lunchtime boil. Huge amounts of noodles and akh, not to mention weak beer, would be rolled out to the wyverns. And after that there was the arduous task of hustling an extra ration of Old Sugustus skin toughener out of the pharmacy.

Relkin hurried out of the Dragon House and took himself down Tower Street for a couple of blocks, then turned up into the Elf Quarter on Half Moon Row. The streets grew narrow and twisty, and the whitewashed, brick houses had round front windows with narrow doorways. The folk in these streets were forest elves, with the tiny green marks in their skin that bespoke their strange and inhuman origin. They were related in some way to the high elves, but the relationship was lost in the sands of time.

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