Rage of the Dragon (39 page)

Raegar heard her. He turned in astonishment. His eyes widened in fear.

She saw herself in those eyes, her face and arms and legs blood-splattered, shining-eyed, wild and utterly consumed by madness. Raegar could do nothing for a petrified moment except stare at her as she came racing down on him, blood flying from her sword.

Terror drove him to action. He grabbed the spiritbone by the glittering golden chain with his left hand and fumbled to draw his sword with his right.

Aylaen jabbed her sword at the hand holding the chain. Raegar jerked his hand back to keep from losing it. Aylaen flung away the sword. She grabbed hold of the spiritbone, gave it a yank that broke the slender gold chain, and ran for the ship’s side with the intention of jumping into the sea.

Raegar, roaring in fury, pounded over the deck behind her.

Aylaen clamped her teeth over the spiritbone and seized hold of the rail, pressing her hands into the wood to lift herself up and over. The rail was wet with salt spray. Her hands slipped. Before she could regain purchase, Raegar grabbed hold of her and dragged her back and flung her to the deck.

She landed on her hands and knees. The spiritbone fell out of her mouth, lying in front of her in a tangle of gold chain. Raegar made a grab for the spiritbone. Aylaen lunged, caught hold of it, and threw the spiritbone into the sea.

Raegar howled orders for men to go in after the spiritbone, floating on the surface of the black, turgid waves. No one obeyed. Furious, Raegar began to unbuckle his armor with the intention of diving in himself.

“No use, Your Worship,” called Captain Anker, peering down into the water. “It’s sunk.”

Aylaen slumped wearily to the deck. The madness of Torval ebbed away, leaving her cold and shivering and sick to her stomach. Her hands and arms were sticky with blood. Her tunic was drenched. She was dimly aware of men shouting out a warning, but she was too weak to find out why everyone was rushing around in a frenzy of fear.

Someone loomed over her. Raegar gripped his sword. He meant to kill her.

Aylaen gave him a ghastly, bloodstained smile.

“Aelon wants me alive,” she reminded him.

“I will send the god your soul!” Raegar snarled.

He lifted the sword.

The
Venjekar
rammed into the hull of
Aelon’s Triumph
.

CHAPTER

40

Skylan stood at the prow of the
Venjekar,
forced to watch Aylaen’s valiant assault on Raegar from a distance, unable to come to her aid, torn between fear for her and pride in her courage. The ship, powered by the angry Dragon Kahg, sped through the water. The waves flew past him, spray splashed over him. He pounded the rail with his fist and urged the dragon to travel faster, faster.

He ordered the Dragon Kahg to bring the
Venjekar
close so that he could board
Aelon’s Triumph
. He watched Aylaen fling the spiritbone of the Dragon Fala into the sea and he cheered. Then he saw her fall and Raegar standing over her, his sword raised.

Skylan bellowed in outrage. The
Venjekar
was still some distance away, but he had to try to reach Aylaen, though with both ships leaping and rolling in the erratic waves, he knew in his heart he would never make it. He was about to climb up on the rail when Acronis shouted.

“Tell the dragon to ram them!”

Skylan looked up at the Dragon Kahg and realized he didn’t need to tell the dragon anything. The
Venjekar
was sailing straight toward
Aelon’s Triumph,
bounding over the waves. Aboard Raegar’s ship, the sailors saw their doom and they were crying out in terror and rushing for cover.

Then the
Venjekar
smashed headlong into the ship’s hull.

Skylan flung himself to the deck. The shattering crash jarred every bone in his body. Wood splinters rained down on top of him. Skylan jumped to his feet in time to see the
Aelon’s Triumph
mast snap off and fall to the deck, taking the sail down with it. The
Venjekar
had punched a hole in the hull. Water would be pouring inside. He could not see Aylaen or Raegar. The sail had landed on top of them.

“Acronis, you’re with me. Farinn, stay with the ship!” Skylan yelled. “You stay with Farinn!” he ordered Wulfe, catching hold of the boy by the scruff of his neck as he was starting to jump.

Yellow eyes gleamed. Teeth glistened in the boy’s mouth, sharp, elongated. Skylan was holding on to fur, not skin.

“I’ll rip out his throat,” Wulfe snarled, squirming in his grasp.

“I need you to stay here to guard Farinn.”

Wulfe snapped at him, teeth leaving a thin trail of blood on Skylan’s arm.

“Stay here, Wulfe,” Skylan said grimly, “or I swear by Torval that you and I are finished.”

He didn’t wait to see if the boy obeyed him or not. Viper Tooth in hand, Skylan leaped from the
Venjekar
onto the slanting deck of the disabled
Aelon’s Triumph
. Acronis was behind him, carrying Aylaen’s sword, guarding Skylan’s back. They ran across the deck of
Aelon’s Triumph,
dodging bodies and debris. They met little resistance. Men were still recovering from the shock of the collision of the two vessels. The respite wouldn’t last long. The archers were scrambling to fetch their bows, soldiers were going for their swords.

Skylan reached the point where he had last seen Aylaen. She had vanished beneath a mass of canvas and rope and what was left of the mast. He shouted her name and his heart soared to hear her voice answer him. Aylaen floundered beneath the sail. Her bloody hand reached out to him. He pulled her out and stared in astonishment. She was covered with blood, so much he could not see if she was hurt. She relieved his fears with a smile. And then the wreckage heaved and shuddered. Raegar flung the mast off him to emerge from the rubble, his face a mask of blood. He looked dazed and a little unsteady on his feet, but he still gripped his sword. He scowled at Skylan.

“My little cousin,” he muttered.

“You are no kin to me,” said Skylan. “Acronis, see to Aylaen. Take her back to the
Venjekar
.”

Acronis had hold of Aylaen, who was protesting that she didn’t want to leave. Skylan focused on Raegar, stood braced and ready for a fight.

“I’ve been looking forward to killing you for a long time,” said Skylan.

Raegar sneered. He raised his sword, took a step, and then his legs buckled. He crashed down face-first onto the deck and lay there, unmoving.

Skylan eyed him warily, thinking this might be a trick.

“Kill him!” said Aylaen thickly.

Acronis was trying to urge Aylaen to come with him. She yanked her arm from his grasp and stood staring down at Raegar. “Kill him!” she repeated.

“Get up, Raegar, you son of a bitch,” said Skylan.

Raegar didn’t so much as twitch.

Skylan swore and kicked him in the ribs. “Get up, cowardly cur!”

“Skylan, we need to leave now!” Acronis said quietly.

Skylan glanced over his shoulder. The archers had picked up their bows and were nocking their arrows.

“Aylaen, go with Acronis.” Skylan kicked Raegar again in frustration. “You coward! Fight me!”

“Kill him,” said Aylaen for the third time.

Skylan shook his head. “When I kill this bastard, I want him to watch my sword slide into his gut. My smile will be the last thing he sees.”

Skylan turned to walk away. Aylaen clutched at him.

“Don’t be a fool, Skylan! You can’t let him live!”

“I will not slay a man who cannot defend himself,” said Skylan shortly. “Torval would bar me from his Hall in disgrace.”

“Then I will slay him!” Aylaen cried.

Raegar’s sword lay beneath his hand. Aylaen made a grab for it. An arrow whistled past, just missing her head. Skylan grabbed hold of Aylaen and lifted her off her feet. He carried her, struggling, beating him with her fists, back to the
Venjekar
. The Dragon Kahg had worked to free the ship from the wreckage of
Aelon’s Triumph
. His red eyes were bright with triumph. The eyes of the Dragon Fala were empty and wooden. Kahg edged the
Venjekar
as close as he could to the disabled
Triumph
.

Skylan set Aylaen down on her feet. Acronis was behind him, sword drawn, holding off the soldiers, many of whom had served under him and knew and respected his skill.

“You’ll have to jump for it,” Skylan told Aylaen.

Another arrow thudded into the wood. She glared at him, her green eyes blazing, and then climbed lightly to the rail. She waited for a wave to bring the
Venjekar
near, and then jumped. Wulfe and Farinn were both there to catch her and steady her. She looked back and shouted for Skylan and Acronis.

“You’re next, sir,” said Skylan.

An arrow whistled harmlessly past.

“Seems Raegar hired poor archers,” Skylan added.

Acronis smiled. “He always was a cheap bastard.”

Acronis waited, timed his jump perfectly and needed no help when he landed lightly on the deck. A couple of waves, higher than the rest, drove the
Venjekar
back. Skylan had to wait for the ship to come near again. An arrow grazed his arm.

The
Venjekar
swung near. Skylan yelled a warning and flung his sword over first, then he followed. He made a clumsy landing, coming down hard on all fours.

“Are you all right?” Aylaen asked worriedly.

“I’m fine,” he said, rising to his feet.

He reached for her, drew her into his arms.

“Queen Magali was right. You are arrogant and stubborn and willful,” she said.

He stared at her, hurt.

Aylaen laughed and embraced him and kissed him on the mouth. “And I love you with all my heart!”

Acronis yelled. Wulfe screeched. Farinn cried out in horror.

Skylan turned his head. Raegar stood on the deck of
Aelon’s Triumph
, holding a bow, the bowstring drawn back, the arrow aimed. He called upon Aelon and fired.

The arrow, sped by the hand of the god, thudded into Skylan’s back.

He didn’t comprehend at first what had happened. He didn’t know he’d been hit until he saw Aylaen’s eyes go wide with horror and he heard her scream and then the shattering pain gripped him and it was hard to breathe and blood filled his mouth. He staggered. Aylaen kept hold of him, her arms around him. She tried to keep him from falling, but he was too heavy. She eased him to the deck.

Holding him in her arms, she begged him, threatened, cajoled.

“Don’t die, my love. Don’t die, Skylan! Don’t leave me!”

Skylan wanted to stay with her, but he couldn’t breathe and the pain was unbearable. The darkness rushed on him, coming fast, very fast.

“My sword!” He gasped, choked on his blood. He couldn’t see, he fumbled for the weapon.

Aylaen guided his hand to the hilt of his sword and closed his weakening fingers over it. She wrapped her hand around his to make sure he kept the sword in his grasp.

Skylan looked at her, Aylaen, his wife. He kept his gaze fixed on her, the last point of light in the hastening dark.

“Even in Torval’s Hall, I will be lonely for you,” Skylan told her.

Aylaen gathered him in her arms and pressed her lips to his as he gave her his last breath.

CHAPTER

41

Aylaen crouched on the deck, holding Skylan’s body in her arms. She did not move. She made no sound. She did not cry out after that last terrible scream when she had seen the arrow coming and felt him shudder in her arms as the shaft pierced through flesh and bone and muscle.

Farinn stared down at her, at Skylan. Disaster had fallen so swiftly, he couldn’t believe it was true. The song must not end like this. The hero could not die and go to Torval’s Hall and leave his friends behind, his quest unfulfilled. Evil should not triumph. Songs didn’t end like this.

Because such songs were never sung. The knowledge pierced Farinn, bringing nearly as much pain as the arrow that had struck down Skylan. In life, heroes died untimely deaths. Quests went unfulfilled. Wives mourned their dead. Bards did not sing such songs, for they stirred no hearts. They brought no light to the long, dark winter.

Farinn heard a low growl, vicious and savage, and he saw a wolf standing near Aylaen. The wolf’s teeth were bared in a hideous snarl, its ears were back, its tail low and motionless. Yellow eyes burned. Farinn could not speak.

“Aylaen,” Acronis said softly, his voice deliberately calm, quiet, but filled with urgency.

Aylaen raised her head. Her face was as pale as the face of the dead and just as cold. The blood had drained from her cheeks and perhaps her heart. She saw the wolf and then she let go of Skylan’s body, laying him gently to rest on the deck. The wolf watched every move, menacingly growling. Aylaen reached out, her hand stained with Skylan’s blood.

“He’s gone, Wulfe,” she said quietly. “We loved him, you and I, but we must live without him.”

The wolf lowered its head and the beast disappeared, leaving a grubby little boy, who collapsed, sobbing, in Aylaen’s arms. She held Wulfe until his sobs quieted and he fell asleep. Aylaen looked at Farinn. Her own eyes were dry.

“Take Wulfe below,” she said. “Watch over him.”

Farinn was glad to obey her. His own eyes burned and blurred, and he didn’t want to cry where anyone would see him, especially Skylan’s spirit, who would be lingering, watching. Farinn picked up Wulfe and carried the sleeping boy with the tear-ravaged face down into the hold. There, unseen, Farinn let the tears stream down his face.

He was crying for Skylan and he was crying for the death of the song.

*   *   *

Aylaen sat back on her knees. She gazed out over the sea and at last rose, stiffly, to her feet. Her leather tunic was soaked with blood, her blood, the blood of her foes, the blood of her husband. The light had gone from her eyes. Acronis had never seen the ghost the Vindrasi called a “draugr” but he had heard the tales and he guessed that the dead who left their graves to roam the earth must look very much like Aylaen.