Dragons of Summer Tide (The Dragons of Hwandor) (37 page)

Cyerant had managed to clear his mind but he could feel the burning in the lungs of his dragon and he knew that Corth could not last much longer and lacked the strength to return to the surface. The young noble regained his feet but he unhooked his weapons belt an as it dropped to the deck he was already arcing over the railing as he dove in just behind Drace. The water was cold and almost forced the air from his own lungs. The river was muddy here where the waters constantly churned and Cyerant could not see but he could feel where Corth was sinking and so he followed that feeling and swam deeper and faster running with the current.

When Jolss was knocked unconscious from his fall Prin immediately stood over him with her wings spread protectively. Devron could hear the sounds of battle raging across the deck outside and he huddle back in the darkness of the cabin holding two puppies that were hiding with him. He could hear another puppy growling and he knew that someone ha fallen into the cabin and was lying near him. Devron knew that whoever it was he was still alive because he could hear the breathing of the unconscious person. He could tell from the sound that the person was small perhaps that other child who was on board. Then he heard the sound of someone stepping down the three steps descending into the cabin. “Who’s there?” The boy asked.

“Give me those,” sounded a voice with an odd accent.

Devron felt one of the puppies being lifted from his lap and he struggled to hold on to the poor animal – until he felt the numbing bite of a blade.

The Gardenia once again lurched but this time she shuddered into motion as Dalnt succeeded in cutting the rope. In a motion the young man dropped the bill hook to the deck as he retrieved his oar and the two young sailors then rushed forward to stand with their father. Shira headed to stand with Veer and help him hold that section of the deck.

Pelinar had become a dancing angel of death. He moved across the deck like a small spinning storm of steel. His every movement seemed to flow like smoke and his blades were just a glinting blur. Anyone who saw him moving would find his dance hypnotizing except that the warriors around him seemed to blossom wounds as the blurring blades flickered over them. In battle he was at once horrific and beautiful to see. His dance carried him occasionally up onto the railing and then smoothly across the deck stepping lightly over the fallen. He once even stepped on the chest of a falling man and used it to loft himself into the air to carry him over the swinging oars of the sailors and landed in a silent roll which carried him under the blades of friends and foes. Where the others fought to hold ground, Pelinar ebbed and flowed like ocean waves swirling in an around every obstacle.

As he felt the boat begin to move once again Talyat saw a foreigner stepping down into the cabin. The elf ran toward the cabin on a path that carried him right through the whirling blades of Pelinar. Talyat did not even try to avoid those blades he just ran with complete trust through the storm and was untouched. It was as if the elves had done this many times. As the storyteller reached the cabin his own blades led the way. He saw that the blind boy had been cut by the now dead man and that one of the dragons was licking at the wound to the boy’s neck. Talyat dropped to the deck beside the boy and grabbed a nearby cloth to try and stem the flow of blood coming from the child.

Down the dragon swam continuing his dive from the boat. He knew that his sister was there, somewhere in the darkness under the water. Drace beat the water with his tail and his wings, swimming through the depths in the same way that he would fly through the air. The only difference was that the water was heavier against him. He reached the bottom far below and found his stunned sister being rolled along across the stones and mud by the current. The weight of the water was holding her down so he grabbed her with his claws as gently but firmly as he could and he pulled toward the air that he knew she needed but which was somewhere far above. The river fought the dragon as he struggled to lift his sister, but he was slowly winning against the water. And Cyool was slowly winning against the darkness of unconsciousness. As the two dragons broke the surface to take in great gulps of sweet tasting air Cyool finally came completely awake.

Cyerant felt the pressure of the water and could not tell if it was the pressure on him or on Corth that he was feeling. He just somehow knew which direction his bond mate was in and so he swam as hard as he could. He felt something brush his face and he grabbed at it. He ha found the rope so he pulled and felt it tighten and then he began to pull himself along it hand over hand toward the dragon that the other end. He reached again and again until once instead of finding rope he found a dragon. He could feel the noose around the neck of the dragon and he could also feel that he was himself slipping from consciousness. With his last moments of awareness he forced his hands to loosen the rope and freed his bonded as his own lungs shuddered for air and then darkness and the current took him.

Corth could feel his bonded getting nearer and he called out to Cyerant in his mind. Then there were hands tearing and pulling at the rope that was taking his life force from him. There was a desperate tug and Corth was free and in that moment he could fee his strength start to return. He was still very weak but could perhaps reach the surface. Then he felt Cyerant slip from consciousness as the river tore the young man away from him. Corth needed air and his lungs burned and ached but he also needed Cyerant and so he followed the bond, swimming with his returning strength. He found Cyerant as the young man was being dragged along by the river and Corth nudged under the young man and pushed toward the surface. With a last desperate push the dragon broke the surface and he felt the young man take in a deep breath as he himself filled his lungs. Both dragon and man each tried to spend the last of his strength keeping the other afloat and somehow together they managed to stay at the surface as the current carried them along.

As the Gardenia was freed from the rope and she started to, once again, be pushed by the river Captain Tarian moved to the railing at the side of the vessel where he could use the oar in his hand to start righting the boat. Cralnar moved to the rudder oar at the rear of the boat and began to work with his father to bring the boat back around and her bow pointing back downstream in order to better ride the faster water. There were a few foreign warriors still on board the Gardenia but when they realized that the boats were moving and separating they abandoned the fight and abandoned the boat leaping back toward the boats in which they came.

Barroon stood in the stern of his boat and watched as his men were no match for the people on board the larger boat. He watched as the sailors used oars and nets to fight off his seasoned warriors. He watched as the hoods of the elves came down and he realized what he was up against. He watched as one dragon was lassoed and then the boat destroyed – the beast was probably drowning somewhere under the surface. He watched as a dragon dove off of the boat. He grabbed an oar and used it to right his boat and to slow it so that the larger boat would drift away from him. He watched as only a half dozen of his men survived to make it back to his boat and climb in. He watched as his two other boats were pulled away by the current – empty and adrift. He stood and he watched.

Pelinar could feel the boat start righting itself under the experienced hands of Tarian and Cralnar. Pelinar saw the last few foreigners leap over boar and he saw that only some made it back to a boat. In that boat stood a man in the stern holding on to an oar and watching. The man was obviously the officer for the foreigners and he had never tried to set foot on the Gardenia. He knew that the man saw the elves and knew what he was now facing. Pelinar suddenly swirled is swords in a very fast arc which he stopped with a flick which cleaned both blades of blood. Never taking his eyes from the eyes of the foreigner he continued the motion to return his swords to his belt. The elf smoothly flowed through the movement to bring his bow around and an arrow to the string and he nocked, pulled and released in a single gesture.

Eleves… elves… elves are real. Barroon thought to himself as he watched the larger boat pull away from his boat. He gazed into the eyes of the murderous elf that had taken so many of his men. The elf had been a terrible wonder to see moving across the deck like a whirlpool in the water but leaving dead men in his wake. Now he and the elf gazed at one another. He saw the elf whirl his blades and his hands became a blur. Barroon reached quickly for a shield and brought it up in front of himself as the elf continued to move in a blur. Just as the shield blocked his view of the elf he heard and felt the thunk of an elven arrow biting into the wood in his hands.  He could feel the shied vibrating as the arrow quivered there where it had struck. The soldier slowly lowered the shield and once again looked into the eyes of the elf who was drifting away on the larger boat. Barroon ordered his remaining men to grab oars and to pull against the current in order to slow the boat. He would follow from a safe distance. Barroon saw a few of his men swimming in the river being pulled by the current but they were of no concern and the river would have them soon enough.

Talyat could see that the boy had a mortal wound to his tiny neck. There was nothing that the elf could do but try to slow the loss of blood. The elf was surprised that the boy was still breathing. But somehow the boy just seemed to be struggling for life and one tiny dragon had curled itself around the boy’s head and would not let go. He heard someone enter the cabin behind him and he heard Shira’s voice. “How bad is it in here?’

“The mage is unconscious but this child has been cut and will not live. I can’t see why he is still alive now. This should have killed him in moments.”

The girl looked at the dragon clinging to the boy and she could see its eyes and that they had already started to change. “I know why he is still alive, and he might even survive. Look at the dragon – at its eyes.”

Talyat looked and realised what he was seeing. He pulled his hands away from the wound and though it was deep and nasty the flood of bleeding had stopped. The boy was lying there cold and pale as if he were dead but his chest still rose and fell slowly and he refused to let go of life. The dragon refused to let go of the boy. It was as if the dragonet was willing the child to live.

Jolss first came aware of a tugging sensation in the darkness. It was as if something was in his own mind pulling at him. Then he remembered his dragon, it was her that he felt pulling him back. Back from what? He wondered. Then he felt the pain in his head and started to remember what was happening. He began to frantically force himself toward wakefulness.

Talyat and Shira saw the mage stir and thrash as he started to come awake. They heard his voice as he tried to form words. Prin began to flutter excitedly. The eyes of the young mage opened and struggled to focus as he unsteadily sat up. Finally Jolss focused his eyes and saw the child next to him and the blood of the child – the blood in which he had himself just been laying. Jolss thought that the boy next to him was dead and anger swept over him. He crawled to the steps and pulled himself up into the doorway on the deck then he used the doorjamb to pull himself upright onto his feet. He looked around the deck at the bodies strewn around. He could not see his brother and some of the dragons were not there. Prin began to shriek the rage which she was feeling coming through the bond.

Veer saw the young mage come up onto the deck holding the doorway of the cabin. He saw the blood covering Jolss and he wondered if Jolss was badly hurt. Veer saw the child look around at the deck and then he could see a look of panic and then anger sweeping across the face of the young mage. Veer could hear Prin starting to scream as Jolss staggered forward onto the deck and was chanting and raising a finger to point at one of the smaller boats swirling in the current of the river. The warrior ran forward to try and stop his friend but he got there only moments after a fireball blossomed in the air in front of the mage. Veer was in time to catch his friend as the boy collapse once again into unconsciousness.

Barroon saw the child stagger out onto deck and saw the flash and watched as a ball of fire rushed across the surface of the water toward its target. He saw as one of the boats exploded when the fireball struck it. Two of his men had just climbed out of the water into that boat thinking that they had reached safety. It was as if every part of the boat began to burn instantly. Though the sun was high and the day had the brightness of noon, the brilliance of the magical fire hurt his eyes. So the rumours were true he thought to himself. The city had been abuzz with the news that mages were returning. Barroon had thought it to be superstition but now he could see it. The barbarians have mages – real mages.

Veer was checking Jolss for injuries as Shira stepped back up on deck. “It isn’t his blood.” Shira said as she walked toward Veer and Jolss.

“Devron,” Captain Tarian called as he let go of the handle of the oar handing it over to Myalnar. The captain started toward the cabin and in moments was standing looking down into the small space. He could see the body of the boy with a puppy curled up next to it and an elf kneeling over the pale lifeless form.

Talyat held up his hand and said. “He is badly hurt but he may still live. This dragonet is keeping him alive I think.”