Dragon Sacrifice (The First Realm Book 3) (25 page)

“For you, I can be Thordis,” she said. She tried to hug him but his armour was too hot. In places it had been spot-welded onto his body.

“Did I do it?” he asked. “Is it dead?”

“You did it,” she said. Carefully she put her arms around him. There was a sizzle where her bare skin touched him.

“I’m so proud of you,” she said.

“M’glad,” he said. Raindrops started falling, turning to steam when they landed on his shoulders.

I was counting his steps. He’d taken one step away from the monster, one toward Dianne. Three steps before he could lean on her. Then one step. And another. The bits of him that were alive were not enough. He couldn’t heal. He was dead.

He took a step. He took another. Then he collapsed into the softening earth.

“Ardel!” Dianne said.

“Thordis?”

“Yes, Ardel. It’s Thordis.” She was weeping.

“It’s dead, right?” he said. “I did it?”

“Yes, my prince. Yes. Please, save your strength. We’ll get through this.”

He looked at her.

“No,” he said. “No, I will not. Brother?”

“Yes?” Orvar said.

“Don’t blame yourself for this. Never blame yourself for this. I saw my duty and I saw it done.”

Ardel smiled. “I would not have it any other way. Prince Angrod?”

“I’m here,” I said.

“In my apartments. On my writing desk. Something I would like you to sing at my funeral.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Why so morbid? You look fine! Why—”

“Angrod.”

“—I’ll do it,” I said. I didn’t speak Norse, but I’d do my best.

“Good. And Orvar, please tell me father...

“... please tell him...

“... tell him...”

We never did find out.

Heronimo

Cruix and I stood on deck and watched Heorot pull away into the distance.

“I wonder if the others did anything half as interesting,” I said. “We have so many stories.”

“I bet they just sat around the house and played board games,” Cruix said.

“Sounds good,” I said. “I’ve had a bit too much excitement lately.”

He snorted. “A talent for understatement, that’s what you have.”

I leaned on the rail. The city was beautiful from this far away but I wouldn’t want to live there. It had seemed huge and luxurious when I was young, but I now that I had seen Brandish, even the greatest city in the Northlands seemed small and dark.

“You cannot ever go home again, can you?” I asked.

Cruix nodded. “Like trying to crawl back into a skin you shed long ago.”

“Well, everyone knows that.”

The gulls took off from the rigging. We were losing sight of land.

“Poor Ardel,” I said. “You think his father is ever going let him out of the fort?”

“Not soon,” Cruix said. “Seems people want him dead.”

“You sure?” I said. It seemed odd that these shadowy people would use Elendil Assassins when

they probably had plenty of human warriors at their command. I said as much to Cruix.

“Doesn’t the Elendil Order also operate in the Northlands?” he said. “Maybe they were trying to stir up anti-elf sentiment. Sour things between Garvel and Angrod.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you were the target, not Ardel. The price on your head has grown, my friend.” I named the sum and he whistled.

“What did they do, invest it?”

“You have to be more careful,” I said. “You’re the only dragon in the world. That means something.”

“I am not afraid he said,” lifting his chin. The way he did it...

“Did you do something?” I asked. “You seem very pleased with yourself. More so than usual.”

“Did I do something? You’ll have be more specific. Everybody does
something
. And is it wrong to feel smug?”

There was none of the frustration that had always been there.

“So that’s why you disappeared after the hunt,” I said. “You were with a woman!”

“What?! No!”

I grinned. “Don’t deny it. I know that swagger. You have been intimate with someone, and recently too.” I clapped him on the back. “Congratulations!”

“Oof,” he said. “Well, I will not try to deny it. I’d appreciate if we just kept this between ourselves.”

Some people were private about sex. That was fine with me.

“It’ll be our secret,” I said.

The female wyvern cooed. It was more like a growl. It curled under a bower of full-grown trees, the wreckage of a vigorous mating. The forest around it was torn up. Even the wyvern was nursing a few wounds from the act. The skin was healing already. It was growing back thicker than ever.

The wyvern murmured wordlessly to herself. Her head came around and she nudged the egg she had just laid. It would be a big one, she knew.

Chapter 23: Angrod

“How’s he doing?” I asked. I stood outside Conrad’s room.

“He’s stable,” Arawn said. “Our doctors have been attending to him.”

“Aye,” Magnus said. “Finest medical care in two worlds.”

“I kyan verify that,” Crystal said. “There really isn’t anything I kyan add to his treatment.”

“Nothing that elven magic can do?” I asked. Crystal was a half-elf healer in addition to being ship’s surgeon.

She shook her head. “Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s other people I could be helping.”

I lowered my head in thought. The capran king and dwarven chieftain were silent as well.

“Will he be all right?” I finally asked.

“We can rebuild him,” Magnus said. “I’ve already ordered the prosthetics.”

“Yes, but what about his mind?” I asked. “He lost his family all over again.”

They shrugged. “Either he gets better or he doesn’t,” Magnus said.

“I’d have put it a nicer way,” Arawn said. “Do you think we can rely on him, Angrod?”

I crossed my arms. “If all the stories we’ve been hearing about him are true...”

“He’s a man,” Magnus said. “He’ll find a way. Better go in there.”

Conrad’s room was as fine as mine. The maids kept it very clean. Still, there is a smell that lingers when a man is confined to his bed, unable even to use the chamberpot.

I’ve been there. It’s not a pleasant experience.

Conrad was sitting up in bed. His eyes were open, staring at nothing. He didn’t look up. The blanket was flat where his legs should have been. His left arm was over the sheet. His right arm was a stump.

“You missed the funerals,” I said.

The bodies had been packed in ships and sent drifting into the harbour. Fire-arrows had turned them into pyres. The entire city gathered on the shore. It was night. The fires burned brightly on the black stretch of water.

Ardel’s ship was the grandest. It was Garvel’s own flagship.

The king had shrunk inside his skin. He stood as straight as he ever did but his aura was clouded and his eyes distracted. He stood in the surf as Orvar, Byrnjar, Eadric, and Rangvald pushed the ship into the water. Tears ran down the cheeks of Ardel’s three companions. As for Orvar, his face was made of stone.

I stood on the beach with my friends. Meerwen had her right arm in a sling. Cruix was with us, and not a few people were giving him angry looks. I’d asked him where he’d been.

“I messed up,” he had said. “You know how the transformation is the most painful thing in the world?”

I’d experienced it before. I’d chewed off my own arm once, so I had some basis for comparison.

“Well, I wasn’t strong enough that night,” he said. “The pain knocked me out halfway through the transformation. I spent the rest of the night unconscious in the woods.”

Which made sense. I made sure to pass the word that he hadn’t run out of cowardice.

Ardel’s ship had almost left the Harbour. It was nearly out of bowshot but Orvar had waited until this moment. He drew back his massive bow and aimed high. His back trembled. The ship was at extreme range. He loosed the arrow with a scream.

The flaming arrow went high into the air. It seemed to hang for a minute, and then it plunged down at Ardel’s ship. The ship caught fire.

I took up my lute.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Heronimo asked. He’d supplied the translation.

“It’s what he wanted,” I said. I began to sing. The words were new to me, but I’d been practising all day. Now the words carried over the sand:

“Father

You taught your son not to walk away

Taught your son not to turn from duty

Not to run

But to fight

Father

“Father

Couldn’t keep me in the house for life

Couldn’t hide me from the waiting war

Oh Father

“Father

Gonna need to close my eyes tonight

Gonna build up my pyre

Oh Father

“I go now into the night

But if you want to fight hell with me

I could use you at my side

See you later

“Father

You taught your son not to walk away

Taught your son not to turn from duty

Oh Father

“Father

Do you want to fight hell with me

Do you want to see Ragnarok

Oh Father

“I go now into the night

But if you want to fight hell with me

I could use you at my side

See you later

Garvel broke down weeping. He leaned on Orvar, and the two of them steadied themselves against the wind.

“It was quite a ceremony,” I told Conrad. “Sorry you couldn’t be there to see it.”

He was still staring at some point in space.

“We talked about what we were going to do with the prize. I killed the second monster, too, but we all had a part in that.” I tried not look at his wounds. “Some of us gave up more than others did.”

Silence.

“Only one of us can take the prize,” I said. “I struck the killing blow, but I don’t know if Garvel would be quite so accepting of me now.
Are you just going to lie there and say nothing?
”

He fixed me with a look. “The hell do you want with me?”

“I’m saying you win the prize!” I said. “We all decided to give up our claims. Me, Arawn,

Magnus. Even Orvar. He said it didn’t feel right!”

I put my hands on my hips. “You are now one of the biggest landowners in the Northlands.”

Silence.

Then: “Heh,” he said. “Heh. Heh heh heh.”

It was an insane noise, the kind of laughing that’s close to weeping. It almost got there, but

Conrad scowled and got it under control.

“I’ll leave you to think about that,” I said. I was at the door when I turned:

“I’m sorry for your losses, Conrad, but we’ve achieved something here. You have the chance to give your people a homeland.”

He cackled. “In the middle of the Northlands, where halflings are slaves?”

“They needn’t be slaves forever.”

It was after the funeral. Everyone had gone back to their homes. Out of respect for their dead prince, there were no public celebrations. Still the people gathered in their homes and congratulated each other on their survival.

The monster’s body had been left where it had fallen. Eventually people would come for the carcass, but for now it was just too big and tough to be easily moved. It lay between the city and the royal fort, far from the lights of either place. It was raining again.

No one saw the elf walk up to it. It was Cruix. He reached out a hand and patted one giant head. He was in his elf body because dragons could not weep.

“My son,” he said. “Oh, my son!”