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Authors: Andrew Hunter

The Hungering Flame (12 page)

BOOK: The Hungering Flame
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Did you tell him who we were?

Warren asked.


He knew me already,

Cabre said,

as for you... you are my companions. That is all he needed to know.

Warren shrugged.

Good enough for me.

The barn proved to be quite large enough to house the lot of them. Garrett was grateful that only a few smallish pigs were on hand to flee in terror at their approach. Once unburdened, the two wolves lay down, side by side in the hay. Inglefras casually munched a mouthful of the stuff while Cabre rubbed him down with a bundle of cloth. Warren and Garrett threw their bedding down and stretched their legs, happy to have a roof over their heads for the first time in many
day
s.

They started at a furtive rapping on the barn door. Cabre hastened to greet the farmer, creaking the large wooden barn door open, just far enough to speak with him while blocking any view of those within.

Warren sniffed loudly and grinned at Garrett.

Cabre offered his thanks to the farmer and then pushed the door shut with his boot. He turned and greeted his friends with a steaming basket of food in his hands. The three of them sat, cross-legged on the dirt floor and divvied up the boiled eggs, toasted bread, and hard cheese. Cabre grinned, his mouth full of bread, as he passed a red glass jar to Garrett.

Garrett managed only a couple of sips of the bitter cider before he pulled a face and passed it over to Warren.


A bit strong for you?

Cabre laughed.


Yeah,

Garrett said.


Don’t worry,

the prince said,

the wine cups of Braedshal are sweeter yet.


I don’t really drink wine,

Garrett said.

Cabre laughed again.

You’ve never been to Braedshal then!

Garrett chuckled, anxious to change the subject.

That’s a nice jar,

he said,

My uncle is always trying to find good glass. Some of the stuff he uses in his work would eat right through a leather flask.

Cabre’s face darkened.

It’s Chadiri.


Huh?

Warren frowned, quickly passing the red jar back to Cabre.


Don’t worry,

Cabre said,

the cider is Astorran. We just buy the Chadiri glass. They make so much of it that even the common folk can afford it… so long as you don’t mind the color. It only comes in red.


You’re friends with them?

Garrett asked.

Cabre sneered.

Hardly! You don’t have to be friends with someone to trade with them though.


Oh,

Garrett said,

I thought you did.

Cabre shook his head.

Garrett, my friend,

he said, reaching across to clap him on the shoulder,

you have much to learn about politics.

Garrett forced a smile.

I guess I never really thought about them doing anything but burning stuff.


Well,

Cabre said, taking a sip of cider,

I suppose there’s plenty of fire involved in glassmaking. Perhaps that’s why they enjoy it so much.

Warren snorted.

Garrett grinned.

I’m pretty tired,

he said, getting to his feet,

I think I’m gonna get some sleep now. Thanks for getting us all the food, and the place to sleep.

The prince raised the red jar in salute and nodded, a bit of cider dribbling down his chin.


Good morning, Garrett,

Warren said.


Good morning,

Garrett yawned.

****

The next two nights
and days
brought them deeper into the kingdom's heart.
They avoided all close contact with other people
,
and
, once or twice, the trio was forced to hide themselves behind hedgerows to wait out the passing of some night traveler on the road. The commoners, Cabre said, weren’t quite ready for dire wolves.

The dawn of their third day in Astorra, the prince did not stop for shelter, but urged them on. They left the road to avoid the early morning traffic and climbed a wooded hill above the fields.


This way,

he said, urging Inglefras up the last rise, and the wolves followed him into a copse of trees overlooking the valley beyond.

Garrett crested the hill just as the dawning sun fell on the white walls of Braedshal.

The great castle of the Astorran king rivale
d the city of Wythr in size. D
ozen
s of
white towers rose above walls of gleaming stone, some of them over two hundred feet tall. Blue pinions fluttered against the morning sky and light glinted on polished shields hung along the ramparts. Wagons and horses moved along the broad road to the city gates, revealing the true scale of the castle’s architecture.


Home,

Cabre sighed.


I think I better wait here,

Warren said.

Cabre looked back at them and nodded.

Garrett,

he said,

would you
care to ride down with me? Inglefras can carry us both.

The prince untucked his green Gloaran doublet and tossed it aside into the bushes.

Garrett looked at Warren and then the prince.

Yeah,

he said.

Garrett climbed down from Ghausse’s back, patting the big wolf. Ghausse shoved his nose under Garrett’s elbow and rubbed his head against Garrett’s chest.

Thanks for the ride,

Garrett said.

Ghausse whined, sitting back on his haunches to watch as Prince Cabre pulled Garrett up behind him on Inglefras’s back.


I’ll come back for you tonight,

Cabre said to Warren.


Yeah,

Warren said,

bring some meat with you.


You’ll eat well, I promise you that,

Cabre laughed,

Come, Garrett, let’s go forge an alliance!

Garrett latched his arms around Cabre’s waist and held on tightly as Inglefras reared and then charged down the hill at a full gallop. The pounding strides of the big warhorse nearly shoo
k the teeth from Garrett’s head.
T
he wind whipp
ed
at his cloak as they rode.

Cabre laughed, digging his heels in, and Inglefras answered with a fresh burst of speed. He looked back over his shoulder, grinning like a madman at Garrett.

Then, suddenly, the prince’s face went pale.

A shadow fell over the field, stretched long by the morning sun. Garrett looked back and saw a dark shape against the sun. The dragon was upon them.

Cabre leaned against Inglefras’s neck, shouting wild encouragement to him, but even the mighty prince of horses could not outrun a dragon in flight.

Garrett squeezed his eyes shut, memories of flame scattering his thoughts.

Then the world shook as the dragon passed them, just overhead. The blast of its wings nearly knocked Garrett from the saddle, but he dug his fingers into the prince’s tunic and held tight.

He looked up, opening his eyes to see the dragon soar
upward
, rising over the castle of Braedshal. Distant screams arose from the caravans along the road to the city gates. The dragon circled above the city like some great black carrion bird.

Inglefras thundered onward, coming within shouting distance of the city wall.

Your prince returns!

Cabre cried,

Make way!

Moments later, Inglefras carried them through the city gates. Stunned guardsmen in blue livery shoved the panicked commoners aside to clear a path.


Prince Cabre!

shouted a broad
-
shouldered man with short, sandy hair who bore a single silvery pauldron on the left shoulder of his mail armor.


Sir Baelan,

the Prince said,

I must speak with my father at once.


Aye, Sire,

the man answered, shouting to be heard above the cries of the people. He started to speak again when the dragon’s roar silenced them all.

Hot fear crawled on the back of Garrett’s neck. He looked up to see leathery wings blot out the sky above the high walls. Then the dragon was gone again, its bellows echoing through distant streets as it circled round again.


This way, Sire!

the knight said.

Prince Cabre swung down from his saddle and helped Garrett down as well. Passing the reigns to a guardsman, he said,

Tend him well. He’s carried me through hell.


Goodbye, Inglefras,

Garrett said, stroking the big horse’s
mane
.

Inglefras nickered and ducked his head in response.

Cabre and Garrett rushed after Sir Baelan, as the knight pushed a path for them through the narrow streets leading toward the central keep. The commoners and merchants looked to the prince with faces full of fear and desperate hope. Cabre nodded back, greeting them with a stiff smile as he dragged Garrett along by his sleeve.

They entered a large courtyard with an enormous fountain, carved of white stone in the shape of a stag, standing atop a rocky cleft from whence cool waters gushed forth into a broad pool below. A crowd of people stood watching the sky above, and the prince and Garrett paused beside the wall of a flower shop to look as well.

The dragon swept over the rooftops toward the spire of a white tower, high above the city. It dug its claws into the tower walls, wrapping its wings and tail around the spire like a great cavern bat, clinging to a stalagmite. Its mighty foreclaw crumbled the blue slate tiles of the tower’s roof, sending them tumbling down through the dust of powdered mortar.

Hunching its back, the dragon lifted its rider to the highest point in the city and glared down with eyes of golden flame, daring any to oppose.


People of the Silver Citadel!

the dragon rider shouted in a hoarse voice, loud enough to be heard to the farthest reaches of the city,

The hour of reckoning has come!

Garrett looked at Cabre, but the prince’s eyes were locked on the Chadiri dragon rider high above.


Your legendary bravery and honor cries out through the histories of men,

the rider shouted,

You are worthy to join the Elect!


I have been sent to extend the red hand of brotherhood to a noble people,

the rider cried,

Accept it and be cleansed of your iniquities. Be cleansed of your corruption. Be cleansed of your weakness!

A roar of protest shook the city, but the dragon’s roar won out above the din. In the stunned silence that followed, the rider spoke again.


A proud people,

he said,

That is good. But pride may blind you to the corruption within.

A large block of masonry broke free of the tower and fell away. The dragon hissed and shifted its grip on the tower.


I bring to you the gift of revelation!

the rider called out,

Let me show you your sins.

BOOK: The Hungering Flame
4.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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