The Flames of Dragons (18 page)

The second junk sank. Minawë’s breath came in heaves. It was all she could do to keep conscious. She could manage one or two more, if she was lucky. She hoped that would be enough.

She was about to send kelp to attack the next junk when the ships changed shape. Oars appeared from both sides of all of them. The Maantecs were rowing out to sea.

Minawë tightened her grip on the Chloryoblaka. It was hard enough dealing with the ships when they were stationary. Worse, the farther from shore they went, the harder it would be to control the kelp that attacked them. She had to hurry.

She started on the third ship. To stall it, she had the kelp break its oars.

Above Minawë the sky brightened. She shouldn’t let it distract her, but the light was wrong. It came from a different direction than the morning sun. Minawë’s shadow drifted from her right to against the driftwood log in front of her. She turned around, curious as to what could cause such a change. Then she gasped.

The glow came from the hill Rondel had set on fire, but the flames weren’t responsible for it. The light came instead from a shining white dome halfway up the rise.

Minawë cursed. Rondel’s diversion had been double-pronged. The fire drew Melwar’s attention, and the ships drew Minawë’s attention. They were both distractions to give Rondel a shot at her true goal: killing Iren Saitosan.

He must have been on that hill when they’d arrived. Minawë hadn’t noticed him through all the brush, but Rondel’s Lightning Sight would have spotted him easily.

Minawë’s gaze swiveled back to the ocean. The third junk had stopped, its hull trapped by the kelp. Its crew had already abandoned it. A minute longer, and she could sink it. The rest of the fleet was escaping, but they were still in range. If she concentrated, she could probably bring down a fourth.

It was the right thing to do. If she didn’t stop those ships now, they would deliver hundreds more Maantecs to Lodia’s unsuspecting shores.

But Minawë couldn’t help herself. She changed into a seagull and took wing, screaming all the way.

*   *   *

Rondel had to shield her eyes from Iren’s light. Horror took her. It wasn’t possible. He couldn’t be doing what he was doing.

Yet the light grew in intensity. Rondel could see it coalescing around Iren’s upward-facing left palm.

At last it grew dense enough that it ignited. White flame shot six feet in the air from Iren’s hand. It licked at the top of his shield.

There was no stopping it now. One way or the other, Iren Saitosan had committed to casting Muryoka.

Rondel knew she should withdraw. She couldn’t block that spell. She couldn’t dodge it either, since Iren could both track her and move as fast as she could. Her only hope was to get far enough away that Iren had to release the spell before he could get close to her.

Unfortunately, retreating wasn’t an option. That spell would be cast no matter what. If Rondel didn’t do something, Muryoka’s explosion would destroy Hiabi. As much as Rondel hated the Maantecs, she couldn’t let a whole city of civilians be wiped out.

There was also the issue of Minawë. Iren didn’t know she was down on the beach. If he destroyed Hiabi, he would unknowingly take Minawë with it.

There was only one option: Rondel had to strike before Iren did. She poured magic into her dagger. As soon as Iren lowered his shield, Rondel would thrust the blade into his chest. The attack would send lightning magic searing through him and overload his brain. As the fool died, Rondel could force his arm up so Muryoka shot into the air.

It would take split-second timing, and the odds of it working were almost nonexistent. But it was the best she could do.

The flames had condensed to a foot high. It was better than Iren Saito had managed, but it was still out of control.

Rondel counted the seconds. Iren was trying to make the technique perfect, but Rondel knew the truth. Muryoka wasn’t meant to be controlled. No matter how much a Holy Dragon Knight trained, it wouldn’t be enough. Only Divinion could cast its perfect form.

It was too late to tell Iren that. It was too late to do anything except end it all.

Iren’s shield dropped. His palm thrust forward. “Rondel!” he cried.

Rondel stabbed. “Iren!”

The attacks passed one another. Rondel felt her Liryometa pierce Iren’s flesh, but she had been a hair too slow. Iren’s hand landed on her gut.

Time seemed to stop. Then, with a roar that shook the land, Muryoka erupted.

Rondel’s world disappeared in white.

*   *   *

Minawë flew toward Iren and Rondel, crying in her gull voice. She had to reach them. She had to stop them!

She was halfway there when the blast released. A great explosion enveloped the hill, and the shockwave threw Minawë from the sky.

She collapsed on the dirt. Her last sights before blacking out were a gaping crater where a hill had been and empty air where her mother and best friend had stood.

Thap! Thap-thap!

All around Kataile’s square, soldiers loosed arrows into straw targets. Balear had positioned them so the targets aligned with the broken fountain. None of the soldiers could miss seeing it, nor forget what it represented.

Thap-thap-thap!

The groupings were good, but Balear knew they could be better. Riac was a veteran, but he was no archer. Now that the catapults were finished, Balear had sent his second-in-command to oversee the siege weapons while the general himself took over archery practice.

Balear walked down the line and corrected the soldiers’ forms. Before he’d lost his arm, he’d been one of the Castle Guard’s finest bowmen.

Another round flew, and this time the arrows packed tighter on the targets. Balear smiled. They were close. In a few more days, all his efforts would pay off. Kataile would become impregnable.

A boy, not yet thirteen, ran down the steps into the square. Balear thought the boy would have the sense not to charge into a hail of arrows, but the child showed no sign of slowing as he neared the fountain. Rolling his eyes, Balear called a halt to his men.

The boy ran up to him. “General Platarch! General Platarch! Come quickly!”

Balear put a gentle hand on the boy’s head. “We’re in the middle of something important right now. Maybe later.”

“But the mayor said you had to get to the plateau right away!”

Balear frowned. What did Elyssa want now? The last thing he wanted today was to be distracted by her and that scroll she kept dangling in front of him. He was starting to doubt whether the supposed note from his father even existed.

“I’m sure whatever the issue is, Captain Riac and Mayor Cyneric can handle it,” he said. “They’re up there with her.”

The boy adopted the exasperated expression only possible by an adolescent. “It was Mayor Cyneric who sent me!”

Balear looked at the boy closer. He wasn’t from Kataile; he was Veliafan.

That changed Balear’s mind. “Lead the way.”

The boy took off. As Balear left the square, he shouted over his shoulder, “Get back to it! Any man who slacks off scrubs the latrines of every tavern in the port district!”

Thap-thap-thap-thap-thap-thap!

Balear had to run to catch up with the Veliafan child. When they reached the plateau, the boy pointed Balear in the direction of the northern catapults and then excused himself. Balear walked over to the siege weapons, and he saw Elyssa, Dirio, and Riac. Their expressions were grim.

“What’s going on?” Balear asked. “Why the panic?”

Dirio pointed across the cliff. In the distance three columns of men marched across Lodia’s fields. They were headed straight for Kataile.

“It looks like you were right,” Riac said. “The three western cities have formed an alliance. Each one’s flag leads up one of those columns. But how did you know they would do that?”

“Because it was the best way for them to get what they wanted,” Balear replied. “Neither Orcsthia nor Caardit could win the war alone, but each would prefer a western Lodian king to an eastern one. If they allied, they could press on to Terkou without fear of another city attacking them. Terkou would have more soldiers than either Orcsthia or Caardit, but it wouldn’t be able to match them both. Terkou joined up with them because it had no choice. Now they’re coming here, the only remaining city that can resist.”

“How many do you think there are?” Dirio asked.

Balear did some quick estimates based on the length and width of the columns. “Four thousand,” he said. “They aren’t as large as what Amroth threw against the Kodamas, but they’re close.”

Elyssa poked Balear in the chest. “Time to pay back the hospitality we’ve shown you and the Veliafans,” she said. “You said you could handle this invasion. Get to it.”

Balear shook his head. “We aren’t in position. They’d breach our defenses too quickly. But we aren’t beaten.”

Elyssa glowered at him. She opened her mouth to speak, but at that moment a dozen horsemen including the three flag-bearers broke off from the army and galloped toward the city.

Riac folded his arms. “They’re coming to convince us to surrender.”

“I’d best meet them, then,” Balear replied, ignoring Elyssa’s still smoldering expression. “Riac, bring the archers up here. They’ll be tired from practice, but we have no choice. Dirio, I’d like you to lead the catapult teams. I hope we won’t need them, but be ready if the worst happens.”

Dirio nodded. “Good luck.”

Balear smiled briefly, but then he turned serious again. He faced Elyssa. “Lady Orianna, please come with me to the beach. We need to meet those horsemen.”

Elyssa’s fists vibrated at her sides. “If you think I’m going to surrender after all this work to improve my army—”

“We have little time,” Balear interrupted. “We must be on the beach when they arrive. We can’t appear rushed.”

The Katailan mayor didn’t move. “I will not give in to these western bullies. If you insist on going down there, I’ll remove you from your post and put someone else in charge.”

Balear flared. “Do you care so little for your people? If you fight now your cause is hopeless. I’ve led this city’s men and made them the best fighters they can be, but the one who will decide whether they live or die today is you.”

Elyssa said nothing. She refused to meet his gaze.

The strong-arm approach wasn’t going to work. Balear softened his expression. “Do you remember what I told you that day by the fountain when you came to observe our practice?” he asked. “About how you would need to seek a peaceful solution to this conflict?”

Elyssa scoffed. “Idealistic nonsense.”

“On the contrary. It’s our only chance. I’m not going down there to surrender. I have a plan. You need to trust me.”

The mayor was silent for a long moment. Finally she sighed, threw up her hands, and said, “What would you have me do?”

Balear grinned. “I’ll explain on the way.”

The pair of them left the plateau and headed down the steps to Kataile’s lower levels. Riac had gone ahead of them, and the archers were vacating the square as Balear and Elyssa reached it.

As they walked, Balear explained his strategy. Elyssa said nothing, but Balear could tell the mayor was worried. His plan relied on her more than anyone else. If she failed, everyone in Kataile would die.

The mayor and Balear came to the beach just as the incoming cavalry slowed to a walk. “Welcome to Kataile!” Elyssa shouted. “I’m Elyssa Orianna, mayor of this city. I’m afraid you will have to turn around. Our beach will be too crowded if all your men want to swim at the same time.”

Balear suppressed a smile. Elyssa hadn’t led Kataile for twenty years for no reason. Despite the stakes, she showed no sign of her nervousness. Balear had been counting on that resolve. It was their only hope of pulling off this crazy bluff.

“We aren’t here to sightsee,” one of the horsemen said.

“Then why have you come to my fine city?” Elyssa asked.

The horseman approached. He carried a spear, and its point was now only a few feet from Elyssa’s chest. “You see our numbers,” he replied. “Your city can’t withstand an assault from us. Renounce your claim to the throne, and your lives will be spared.”

“That’s a tempting offer,” Elyssa said, “but I’m afraid I must refuse. I’ve seen your numbers, and you would break upon these walls. Surely you have noticed our siege equipment.” She pointed up the cliff face beside them. “And if you think to starve us, you’re in for a long wait. We have access to food and water. You can block off neither.”

“We’ll storm your beach.”

“That might work,” Elyssa admitted, “except for one problem. You’d have to get past him.” She gestured at Balear.

Reacting to the cue, Balear pulled out the Auryozaki. He twirled the enormous weapon above his head so quickly the sand whipped around them. The horsemen shifted in their saddles, riveted by the display.

The one in front though, the one with the spear pointed at Elyssa, looked unimpressed. “I know this man,” he said. He turned to his compatriots. “This is the traitor, Balear Platarch! He came to my city last year. I arrested him and sentenced him to death, but he broke free thanks to an accomplice. He’s a demon!”

Balear cursed silently. The spearman must be Orcsthia’s mayor.

Though Balear hated being called out so quickly, he wasn’t surprised to see the man here. The armies of each city needed their mayors with them to maintain discipline. There were no other leaders who could keep them from attacking each other.

Through the tirade, Elyssa maintained her composed expression. “A demon he might be,” she said, “but he’s our demon.”

Balear suppressed a wince. Considering all the times he’d called Iren a demon, he supposed he deserved to have the name thrown back at him. Still, it was hard to hear.

“Fight him if you wish,” Elyssa continued, “but do so at your peril. He’s not the same man you tried to execute. He’s the Sky Dragon Knight now, wielder of magic that would have rivaled King Angustion’s.”

That set the group on their heels. Balear smirked and cradled the Auryozaki over his shoulder.

“So if you think you can overcome a mage, our walls, and our catapults, go right ahead,” Elyssa pressed. “Otherwise, I have a better suggestion.”

Another of the horsemen stepped forward. Balear recognized him as Terkou’s mayor. The man had a thin face and a long nose that gave him a wolflike appearance. “What would that suggestion be?” he asked.

“Simple,” Elyssa answered. “Since you two are here, I’m certain Caardit’s mayor has come as well. That means we’ve gathered here the mayors of Lodia’s four largest cities. No one would dispute that one of us would become ruler of this land should this war drag on to its bitter end. So let us dispense with violence and instead do our jobs. Let’s hold the Succession Council right here, right now. I’ll make a space in my city hall for us to meet.”

A third horseman rode forward. He had a pudgy face and dark brown hair. His doughy appearance looked out of place compared with the other soldiers. Balear figured he must be Caardit’s mayor.

The three invading mayors bent their heads and conversed in hushed tones. After a brief discussion, they returned to face Elyssa. “We agree,” the Orcsthian mayor said.

Balear forced himself not to sigh in relief. In truth though, he wasn’t that surprised. As he’d explained to Elyssa on their way here, the Succession Council was really the newcomers’ only option. For all its size, their army was in no shape to fight. The western cities might have formed an alliance, but they hadn’t united. Their army’s three distinct city banners proved that. If the balance of power shifted, say by one mayor losing more troops relative to the others, their distrusting alliance would fracture. Elyssa and Balear hadn’t needed to convince the mayors that Kataile was invincible, just that it was strong enough to inflict significant casualties. Presented with that risk, the mayors had no choice but to accept politics.

“We do have one condition,” the Terkouan mayor interjected on Balear’s thoughts. “We will hold the council, but not in Kataile. It would be too easy for you to kill us and then claim the throne for yourself. We’ll use our command tent instead. We’ll set it up in neutral territory between your city and our forces. That way both sides can watch the other for treachery.”

Elyssa looked sideways at Balear. He nodded. Their terms made sense.

“I accept your recommendation,” Elyssa said. “As it’s already past midday, let us retire and meet tomorrow an hour past sunrise.”

The other mayors turned their horses around and rode away from the beach with their escorts. Balear grinned as they left. “We did it,” he said.

Elyssa’s formerly confident expression darkened to reveal her true feelings. “We have done nothing. You have your council, Balear, but it holds no meaning. Whoever emerges triumphant, bloodshed will follow from the defeated. Trust me.”

Balear’s smile faded. He said nothing. He didn’t have to. Elyssa was right.