The Dragonswarm (31 page)

I'd set aside the whole afternoon to work with them. First I explained my plan—for the first time I laid out in detail my intentions for this army. "I mean to carry the fight to the dragons," I told them. "There are dragon lairs all through these mountains, and when night falls they fly. More and more, with every day we wait."

"But you will kill them for us?" Dain asked. His eyes flicked to one of the soldiers from the first battalion. He'd heard stories.

I shook my head firmly. "No.
You
will kill them for everyone else."

That got their attention.

"I will make you into hunting packs. Thirty men to a pack, I think, but it depends on what we find when we go out there."

"Go out?" Dain asked, his voice quavering.

"Yes. You will hunt them in their lairs. You will kill them while they sleep."

"But how?" another soldier asked, an ugly-faced young redhead at the end of the table. "We can't fight monsters."

"You can, with sharpened steel. With ruthless tactics. Sneaking and dodging and wearing them down. Strike when they are unprepared and bleed them out, and even a far stronger enemy will start to crumble."

I'd borrowed words from Lareth, from the speeches he had used to give, and now they worked like magic. Another kind of magic. Lareth had spent months convincing these men they were strong enough to fight the king's great host.

"We'll strike and then we'll run," I said. "And when the next day dawns, it will dawn on an enemy dazed and weakened by our cunning."

"But how?" the redhead asked. "Don't dragons fly?"

"They do, but we won't fight them in the open. We will choose our turn to strike, and we will keep them from the sky."

He tried to repeat his question again but I raised a hand to stop him. "It's not easy," I said. "But it can be done. That's why we're here. I know the way. I know their secrets, and we'll develop tactics you can use."

"Us," he said. "You keep talking of us, as though you don't intend to come along."

I glanced toward the door, then on an instinct down and to the left, and realized I was looking through a hundred feet of solid stone toward the northern gate where Caleb stood in conversation.

I shook my head. "We have three thousand men against ten thousand dragons," I said. "We can't afford to lean on me alone. I'll help you as I can—and there is much that I can do—but in the end I'll need a dozen hunting parties out at once. I can't go with them all."

Garrett Dain nodded reluctant understanding, and I saw others among them take his cue. "You're right," he said. "But if that's what you want, what are we doing here? Why Palmagnes, if we're fighting the dragons? Why have us work so hard to build those walls?"

"They're clever, Dain. Word travels among them quickly, and their vengeance is a terrible thing. Once we begin, they will come for us. You can count on it. And we
must
have a reliable stronghold if we're to survive that strike."

The redhead raised his chin. "Where does the king's force fit into this?" Every eye turned to me at that, even Dain demanding an answer.

I sighed. "Nowhere. The king's force is no concern of ours. We'll make a fortress strong enough to stand against dragons, and the king's army can break their teeth on it all day long if they want. They are of no interest to us."

They had their doubts, but soon enough I turned the talk from what and why to how. And then I showed them. I started out sitting, but as I began describing how to force a dragon out of the air I found myself on my feet, going through the motions.

I explained as best I could how to bring one down, and how to fight him once he was grounded. When even Dain seemed uncertain what I meant by some description, I gathered dust into a cloud and spun it out into a faerie dragon, insubstantial on the air. I raised it up and walked beneath its wings to show them where to look for vulnerable spots, where to attack and when. Then Dain jumped up and drew his sword to try some practice swings, testing maneuvers based on what I'd said.

Then the others were standing beside him, offering suggestions, and as I watched they found a routine. Then they were circling the illusion, talking out a strategy. I made it lash its heavy tail, and one of the men barely ducked short of losing his head. They laughed, then listened gravely as I explained a dragon's many methods of attack.

In the end, as I tried to teach them humility, I slowly came to realize their numbers were their real advantage. One blast of fire might kill thirty, but not if they spread out. And apart from that, a dragon might have six different lethal assaults, but it could not really use them to kill six men at once. It could not split its focus so many ways.

The redhead remembered stories he had heard about some region in the Northlands where men fought fearsome bulls, relying on taunts and distractions to wear them down. He and Garret Dain designed a plan from there: One man could draw the dragon's ire while the rest nipped at its heels. We practiced that 'til they were sore, 'til I ran out of clever tricks, and every man among them took a turn as the distraction.

Late in the afternoon, we were interrupted by the sharp clack of Caleb's boots in the stone corridor. He stopped in the doorway and considered us for a moment. His eyes barely touched the dragon form. He nodded once. "It's late. The men are called to supper, and then, if you are ready for it, their first lesson is scheduled for tonight."

The redhead spoke up beside me. "Our first lesson? What was all this then?"

His general's dark eyes fell upon him, and the young man bowed his head. "Sir, I mean."

"He means the lesson you will teach," I told them all. "I will train you, and you will train your teams."

"Our teams?" Dain asked, worried understanding already in his eyes.

I nodded. "Your hunting parties. I mean you each to lead one."

"Are they ready?" Caleb asked. "Or do they need another day?"

"We do not have another day. But they are ready. They can at least begin."

I heard some uncertain murmuring among them, but Dain stepped forward with a question in his eyes. I waited while he found his courage. The others tended to follow his lead, so if I could just convince him, I had it won.

At last he cleared his throat. "Could you...." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder to the empty floor where we had fought an airy dragon. "Could you make more dragon forms like that? For us to use?"

"Easily. Lareth and I together could probably even make a clever one. I'll try to have it by tomorrow."

He nodded. "Then yes. With that, I can teach my men. Do I get to choose my own?"

He looked to me. I looked to Caleb. Caleb shrugged.

"Find volunteers if you can," I said. "It's dangerous work. For all of you. But we are fighting for the world."

They nodded, then they left, the allure of a warm supper dragging them away. I watched them through the stone as they went down the central stairs and to the crude kitchens we'd made of one end of the great hall. Caleb stood beside me, waiting, 'til I shook off that strange awareness and turned to meet his eyes.

"Will they do?"

"They'll do," I said. "They understand the task, and already they make plans. I have some hope at last."

He nodded, silent for a moment, then glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "How long will it take to train them, do you think?"

"This group? They will be ready in a week. Fifteen days at most. But they're handpicked. I don't know after that. Two months, perhaps, for them to pass on what they know?"

"You're still thinking ten-man teams?"

"Thirty, I think, 'til we get started."

"That's a third of our force," he said. "That's quite a lot to set aside."

"To set aside? This is our mission, Caleb. The dragons will not wait forever."

"I understand," he said. "But neither will the king. Your walls are good, but there is much more we should do. For one, the wizard never bothered to teach them how to hold a strong location."

"So what would you advise?"

"Start small. Make this crew your only hunting party. Send them out
together
in a week or two and see how many survive."

I frowned at him. "I'm heartened by your confidence."

He shrugged. "We will not know until we've tried. If anyone survives, they'll come back veterans of war. Captains of the hunt. You'll be amazed what that status will mean to the men. By then, I should be ready to release the rest for full-time training."

"What's our time frame, then?"

"Two weeks from now you take the first group hunting, if we're not up to our armpits in Eagles and Guards. All things go well, you'll have your thirty hunting parties by spring. In the meantime, don't tie up more than an hour or two a day."

"I can live with that—"

"Of course," he interrupted, "that assumes we can get to the dragons. Have you learned Lareth's portal magic yet?"

"I've told you, it's not a simple thing."

"How long?" he asked.

"I cannot say."

He frowned. He seemed to know I hadn't tried. "Three thousand men inside these walls, Daven, and only two of them are capable of magic. Remember that. If the king's army lays a siege, all the training in the world won't help if we're stuck inside these walls."

"I'll
handle it
, Caleb."

"And speaking of the siege, have you considered food?"

I shook my head. "Lareth claims they always kept enough in store to last two weeks. You'd know better than I how much we have."

"That sounds right."

I nodded. "Lareth wants me to release them to forage, but I won't have my men ruining these farmers. I'm still trying to figure something out."

Caleb only nodded. "You'll have a week, then. If you don't figure something out, they'll forage. Your word is law, but these men will do what it takes to get fed."

"I understand."

"Good." He considered me for a moment, then nodded to himself. "You're doing well. There are a thousand challenges ahead, but you are doing well."

"Thank you, Caleb."

"Come, my lord. Let's eat. And then we'll speak of options."

By the tenth day nearly all my men were on their feet, and as they recovered Caleb put them right to work. For seven days after that they learned how to protect the fortress even as they shored up its defenses. As morning burned toward noon on the eighth—our eighteenth day inside the walls—it was amazing how much Caleb had accomplished.

We'd cleared the rubble up to the tower's third floor, as well, and Lareth itched to start work on the fourth. I helped, but never as I'd done on that first day. In little doses, and only when my fires raged, I'd clear a corridor of rubble or strengthen a buckling wall. Workers built the outer walls, as well, above the marble-smooth and perfect foundation I had made, they built it up with mud and brick and when I had a chance I made it whole.

By then only a third of the men were working construction at any time. The rest worked in shifts, hunting and gathering food wherever I would let them, though the return was paltry as long as I restricted them from settled lands.

Others scouted or stood sentry, but the most important work was the training. Caleb and I both helped at times, but the majority of the work fell to our thirty hand-picked hunters, and they shone. Even in the few hours Caleb would give me, the rest of the men learned much from my Captains of the Hunt. The soldiers listened to them and practiced what they learned. And whenever the Captains were not teaching, they were studying with me.

I taught them how to spot a dragon's den in the wild, how to recognize and read the marks of a dragon's passage. I told them how and when to pin a dragon in its cave, and how to use its size against it. In the practice area I built the shadow dragon forms and watched my handful teach nine hundred men how to recognize a dragon's soft spots, how to avoid the massive claws, and what to expect of the powerful tail.

Every day they learned, and every day they grew more confident. The walls and tower grew higher. And somewhere, far off or close at hand, the dragonswarm grew more terrible. Every day I expected grave reports, but they didn't come. Rumors. Hints at casualties, letters gone unanswered, messengers lost. But in Teelevon, at least, the dragons hadn't yet attacked.

At noon on the eighteenth day, Caleb tracked me down and dragged me to the north wall. One great cloud of dust stained the whole horizon. We watched it carefully throughout the day, and though it drew nearer we couldn't yet discern the party that stirred it up.

The men grew anxious. All throughout the fortress, eyes strayed often to the northern wall, wherever they worked. Whispers ran among the men. Things had been too easy, they seemed to say, and now at last the trials were upon us. When the sun set I lost sight of the cloud, but the distant glow of campfires lit the night, miles off to the north. I watched until my eyes burned, straining to see something in the dark, but nothing moved.

And when I could keep my feet no longer, I retired to my place inside the tower. The men without were restless, and their anxiety echoed noisily inside my head. We had strong walls, and very able men, but still I feared. For long hours I lay awake, staring at the stone ceiling, until finally a fitful sleep claimed me.

As I drifted off at last, the knowledge was bitter in my mind: When morning came, it would bring us war.

We were not only warriors by now. The first farmer had come on our ninth day in the fortress, while most of my brave soldiers were still lying sick in bed. An alarm had risen when someone working the north wall spotted him approaching, but I ran out ahead and met the man halfway. His name was Robertson. He had a farm eight miles northwest of the tower, and he had lost a son in the siege.

His eyes lit up when he saw me, and he said, "Daven of Teelevon. The rumors are true. You've come to rebuild Palmagnes and face the dragons."

I only looked at him, astonished, as he knelt before me. "Take my pledge, Sir Daven. I'd like to join your lot." And humble though he was, he too added to my fires.

He bid me send my men to bring in the grain from his barns—scarcely three meals for such a large force, but it was what he had to give. Farmer Robertson had nothing more to offer, but I gave him sanctuary within the walls of my fortress, and he watched the construction with interest.