Battledragon (52 page)

Wiliger was caught up in a strange, personal epiphany, and was subdued and attentive. He felt as if he moved in the midst of a fevered dream, and that somewhere behind the scene, great music was being played for an unseen audience that represented eternity. The count was also in a strange state of mind. It was as if he saw the scene ahead with crystal clarity. He now understood the reputation of these witches. If anyone had ever suggested before now that a woman with grey hair would ride across the sea on the back of a great swimming dragon, Felk-Habren would have laughed at them. If they had told him that the same woman would be visited by seagulls, and by hordes of other birds, he would have taken them for crazed. Now he had seen such things, and many others, enough to turn anyone's hair to grey.

Ahead, the count saw the enemy, pent up in that large fortress attached to the lower slope of the volcano. The tasks ahead would require a flexible strategy. He himself had none other than to crash in and destroy whomever he was pointed at. If the witch had a plan, he would go along with it happily.

The ground was too treacherous, too cut up with gullys and pits to risk the dragons on it at night. They slept, changing the watch through the night, and moved on at dawn. There was nothing to eat, and only a little freshwater. The dragons were very hungry.

They headed for the mountain. After an hour they stumbled on a road, cut down into a shelf of ash. Lessis and

Wiliger examined it. Wiliger wondered what it might be used for, since it was uncommonly well made. Huge flagstones had been laid along a trench forty feet wide cut in the brittle ash. Lessis hesitated to use the road. It might easily lead to their discovery by the enemy, even though it was certainly the quickest way to reach their destination. She had no doubt that it connected the fortress with the ocean side.

Their caution was rewarded quickly enough. There came a series of sharp cries from the direction of the volcano, and then a blaring horn.

The dragons slid back into the scrub with the natural skill of predatory beasts. In a few moments the party was entirely hidden.

Down the road came a heavy wagon pulled by an army of slaves being driven by brutal-looking imps in the black of Padmasa. Loaded on the wagon were dozens of immense stone balls, more ammunition for the weapons that would change the world.

The wagon ground on, heavy wheels creaking and groaning. Rough-skinned imps with the faces of gargoyles rode the wagon and wielded long whips over the sweating backs of the slaves. The slaves were of all races, from dark-skinned men of the Impalo kingdoms, to olive-skinned types from the Bakan and even a scattering of pale skins, their hair now bleached by the tropical sun. In the eyes of all of them there was little except a mortal exhaustion. They were beasts of burden, no more. They had been reduced by cruelty, starvation, and the liberal use of the whip. They worked like beasts all day and were fed from troughs like animals. They slept on bare floors and were hosed down in the mornings by the imps.

This terrible procession rumbled past followed by a second wagon and a squad of marching imps, heavyset creatures with sword and shield, just in case of trouble from the slaves.

The dragons itched to slay these imps. Big hands clutched on the air, and blazing eyes exchanged looks of fury. But discipline held and no dragonsword was unsheathed.

Then at last the imps were gone, and the road was empty once more. The party of dragons and men crossed the road, climbed up into the ash hills on the far side, and went on.

The treatment of the captive dragonboys had changed. They had been taken down from the volcano's lip and placed in an apartment of three spacious rooms, furnished in the Kraheen manner with carved wood and silken wall hangings. Jak's attendant imps were taken away. Kreegsbrok came to check on Jak's condition, and summoned a nurse to clean the boy's cuts and bandage them where necessary.

They were given water, and a little food. Ravenous, they spoke little while they ate, and afterward they slept.

Kreegsbrok came back for another check on Jak. Before he left, he raised a finger in admonition.

"Don't try to lie to him, he'll know it at once. Remember that, both of you."

Relkin understood then that he had seen more of the Master's power displayed than Kreegsbrok ever had. That strange request, "I want to be your friend" echoed and reechoed in his mind. It was laughable, but Relkin could find no energy for laughter. His situation was too precarious. Death or slavery loomed on either side, and he walked a knife edge over darkness. Kreegsbrok left. Soon afterward the door opened, and the Master entered, floating in, holding himself off the ground with his own power. Relkin felt his jaw drop. The Masters could fly!

In the center of the room, Heruta let his feet touch ground again. Such feats were exhausting in the extreme. It astounded him that he debased himself so much! Deigning to try and impress this young thug from the witches, except that this was such a valuable little thug. Once converted, he would be a marvelous fount of information. Reining in his temper, the mighty Heruta spoke as sweetly as he might with a mouth of horn and bone.

"Come, walk with me awhile, young man. I have much to discuss with you."

Heruta indicated a doorway that lead to a gallery built above a central courtyard. Relkin could hear water flowing somewhere nearby. The courtyard had flowers and shrubs growing in thick profusion. A fountain was playing in the middle. It seemed churlish not to accept the invitation to talk. Perhaps he could save at least Jak.

"You are a special young man, Relkin of Quosh. You have been marked by the Sinni. Things like that cannot be hidden from my eyes, believe me. You have been a formidable foe. You and your great dragon have dealt my cause some terrible blows. They say that you're the best-known pair of the legions, don't they?"

Heruta knew this from plundering young Jak's mind for all references to Relkin. He knew a lot more, as well.

Relkin kept his voice as level as possible.

"I don't understand this. You wanted to crush me, to make me into a slave. Now you flatter me. Why?"

Such charming insouciance for a little street thug from a filthy little Argonathi city!

"Because, child, I think you are too special to waste. Of course, I could have you destroyed. Or even given to the slave gangs and worked to death. But I do not. I seek to show you what it is I am fighting for. It is for the greater good for all."

Relkin's head jerked up.

"What?"

"Open your mind to me, let me show you the world we shall make."

"You can't," Relkin began in disbelief, "mean…"

"Come, oblige me in at least this one thing. Let me show you what I am talking about. All your short life you have been the manipulated tool of a massive conspiracy. You must see the other side of the story."

Relkin said nothing, still shaken from the surprise of this. Heruta purred next to him.

"Come. Let me show you a world without rancor, without hate, a world where war will have been abolished. Where people in all walks of life will serve a single cause, with joy in their hearts."

"I saw Tummuz Orgmeen. That is how your world works."

"Of course you would have that opinion if all you knew was a frontier city full of soldiers. You know that soldiers are rough company. A society of soldiers seethes with aggression. These things have to be worked off somehow."

"And always your rule is that of master and slaves. We are free men in the Argonath."

"Free men?" The Master made a buzzing sound within the horned beak. "You are enslaved by an ancient cabal of undying hags, child. Do you know how long some of those witches have lived?"

Relkin knew that Lessis had served the cause of the Empire of the Rose for centuries. It was one of those things that made everyone uneasy.

"I do."

"Long before you were born, child, they had erected their fantastic system. It cannot last. It only holds together with enormous effort on their part, it is quite unnatural. They will be unable to maintain it much longer. Our way is the better way. There is some necessary brutality at first, but later such things will be obsolete and out of the question."

He saw the disbelief in Relkin's eyes.

"You have been ruled by these women all your life, child. You do not understand the rule of men."

That brought life to Relkin's tongue.

"I understand the rule of just men, for that is what we strive for in the Argonath. Just men believe in equality before the law for all men and women, I know that much. Just men allow for no slavery within their realm."

"And, in truth, for a lad with little education, you are a wise one, Dragoneer Relkin. You have held to the old gods. I like that. That's always a good sign. The old gods were gods of men! When men ruled and women obeyed."

"We don't have slavery. We are free men."

"Free men are the rulers in their own homes. Free men rule women in all things."

"There is no need for either to rule the other; each is as important for the race. Every man has a woman as a mother, so they say in the temple. Can you deny that?"

The boy recited that babble from the so-called "Great Weal of Cunfshon," which guided them as constitution and book of social rules. It was soft-brained stuff for men afraid to harden themselves so as to triumph over the world and dominate it.

"That does not mean that women are fit for equal status with men."

Seeing Relkin's frown, the Master shifted gears. The indoctrination ran deep, it was clear to see.

"But come, I want to show you what you might achieve. I want to show you the possibilities that are open to you."

Relkin stared at him.

"I will give unto you a kingdom."

And Heruta moved a hand before his eyes, and Relkin beheld a fair city, of white stone like Marneri, with long pennons streaming from the towers. A fair folk walked before him, in celebration of his rule. Golden trumpets played, white horses ran across the green field. It was all his.

"You will be king of the eastern shorelands. You will be known as Relkin the Just, and your rule will last for centuries."

A king! A golden glow attached to the thought. Wouldn't that be something? For an orphan boy from the Blue Stone country, it would be quite remarkable. The glow burned on.

"And as a ruler of a great kingdom, you would have the opportunity to do good. You would be able to erect a realm of true justice, where just men would do as they are bid by enlightened rulers."

The white city seemed to float there, quite tangible, with bright colors, in the air. Relkin wanted to stretch out a hand and touch it for some reason. To be a king!

Relkin the Good, a name that would go down through the aeons of recorded time. He was irresistibly drawn. Rising toward the lure like a nail being pulled up from the wood.

Then another voice spoke in his heart, a voice that echoed all the lessons of his early life in his village. It named the Master as the hissing serpent, and seducer of hearts.

There were no kings in the realm of Padmasa. The Masters ruled through their agents, the Dooms, the things they gave intelligence to in the Deeps of Padmasa. Their rule was uniformly cruel and harsh.

"You would become a master of jurisprudence. From you would come the body of laws that would forever after govern the affairs of men. You see how I need you, Relkin of Quosh? I, we, cannot do everything. We have so much to do to remake the world so as to achieve peace and harmony for all."

Fury broke to the surface on Relkin's face.

"Like when you build your weapons that kill from a great distance? Always you build to kill and destroy!"

"Come, child, we have to defend ourselves. The witches have never accepted our overtures for peace. Many is the time we have begged them to desist and agree to negotiate. Never have they answered us with fair words, not even with politeness. Where is the justice in that?"

"I know nothing of matters of the state. You know that. But I know what I have seen. I have seen the way your cities would be run. They spill blood there for amusement. They traffic in human slaves. I have seen too much blood, too much war."

Heruta knew how true that was. The great one had been appalled by the memories dredged from the mind of the other boy. These children had lived their lives from battle to battle. It was another example of how the hags toyed with human lives.

"We employ imps for our defense forces because their lives are of little consequence. The same for our trolls. The only men we risk in war are volunteers, who flock to our banner from all over the world, I might add."

"I have seen how you make imps. In Tummuz Orgmeen we saw the breeding pens."

Ah.

"Yes, a tragic thing, but necessary for us to stave off the constant assaults of the witch armies. Without our imps, we would long ago have been destroyed. And yet we judge it better that imps, which are like animals, after all, be slaughtered rather than men."

"I have slain imps. I did not think of them as animals. They can think and speak. They have lives, too."

Heruta gaped inwardly. The indoctrination of the hags was strong stuff. Here he had a dragonboy expressing concern about imps!

"Well, I see that you have a natural respect for all living things. That is as well as good, but we must remember that in extreme conditions, such as those of war, we must make difficult choices. So we prefer to lose imps on the battlefield rather than men."

Relkin had lost a great many friends in war, friends both human and wyvern. Anything that would save casualties would be good. Could it be right to use imps as soldiers? After all, the legions used dragons, and dragons took heavy casualties. There was none but Baz and old Chek left from the original 109th Marneri Dragons.

"Young man, you have great potential. Will you at least do one thing, keep an open mind for a few days. Let me show you the powers that can be yours."

"I am a dragonboy."

"You were a dragonboy. You are about to become something far more important. You must ascend to higher matters. We need you to help craft our great peace. Perhaps with your aid we can produce a peace initiative that the witches will accept. Think of that, child. You can become a prince of peace."