The Wings of Dragons: Book One of the Dragoon Saga (26 page)

Iren’s thoughts drifted back to the Kodaman
princess. If Otunë had fathered her, yet died during the
Kodama-Maantec War, then that meant Minawë had to be nearly a
thousand years old. He swallowed hard. No wonder she’d gotten upset
when he’d asked about her age.

“
Anyway,” Rondel continued,
going back to her original topic, “while Aletas directed the brunt
of her anger at me, she was equally incensed with both of us. She
hid her ill will toward you, since you rescued Minawë. Truthfully,
though, she abhors our presence here.”

“
Why?”

“
Ever since the
Kodama-Maantec War ended and her husband died, Aletas started
fearing the dragons and, by extension, Dragon Knights as well. You
carry the Muryozaki. That alone makes her despise you.”

“
That’s crazy,” Iren said.
“Divinion is the Holy Dragon, right? That makes him good. Aletas
shouldn’t fear him or me.”

“
You don’t understand,”
Rondel replied, shaking her head. “None of the dragons, not even
Divinion, are inherently good or evil. They just are. After all,
when Iren Saito cast his curse on the Kodamas, which dragon lent
him power?”

Iren didn’t have to answer. He knew it well
enough: Divinion.

“
The Ryokaiten only create
a conduit between dragon and knight,” Rondel explained. “The wills
of both parties determine the nature of that bond. Draw your sword,
and I’ll show you what I mean.”

Iren pulled out the Muryozaki, and Rondel
pointed to the three concentric rings of Maantec writing that
emanated from the dragon’s heart on the blade’s hilt. “I told you
before that the kanji enchantment allows for a connection between
you and Divinion, but there’s a lot more to it. Actually, only the
innermost ring allows a knight to draw on the dragon’s power. The
second ring permits the dragon to test would-be knights. Most
important by far, though, is the outermost ring.”

“
What does it mean?” Iren
asked, rubbing his thumb over the strange characters.

“
That circle keeps the
dragon’s will in check. It prevents the dragon’s spirit from
leaving its gem except when the knight calls upon its
magic.”

“
Why is that so
important?”

“
Use your head! Back in
Veliaf, I explained how using the dragon’s magic is a contest of
wills between the two of you. The more magic you draw, the more of
the dragon’s will enters your body. If you only use a little magic,
the dragon’s will can’t affect you. But if you draw too much, the
dragon can enter your mind. In the extreme case, it overwhelms you
and transforms you into a dragon, as I previously explained. Do you
understand? The third kanji circle is the reason why you could
communicate with Divinion after you healed Dirio, but normally you
can neither see nor hear him. Without that ring, Divinion’s will
could enter you regardless of any spells used.”

Iren shrugged. “That doesn’t sound like a
bad thing. I mean, I’d probably understand a lot more about being a
Dragon Knight if I could talk to Divinion all the time.”

Rondel threw her arms in the air. “Fool,
letting your dragon inside your mind is the last thing you should
ever want! Once there, he can manipulate you, using your
insecurities to gradually take over your mind. Over an extended
period, your personality would change until you literally became
the dragon.”

“
Why would the dragons do
something like that?”

“
For the most part, the
dragons despise mortals. In their eyes, not only did we eternally
imprison them in gems, but then by making the Ryokaiten, we tried
to tame them. When a dragon wrests control from its knight, it
takes advantage of the situation to get revenge on the mortals who
dared to contain them. They transform the knight’s body to match
their own dragon form, and then they rampage and slay all in their
path.”

Iren thought back on his experience with
Divinion. Granted, he’d only met the dragon once, after healing
Dirio. Still, Iren didn’t consider Divinion evil. At the very
least, he didn’t seem like someone who would commit genocide.
Confused, Iren asked, “Rondel, does any of this really apply to me?
Divinion’s the Holy Dragon, after all. Even if I lost control and
set him loose, surely he would do nothing but good for Raa.”

The old woman replied without hesitation,
“Are you willing to take that chance?”

Rondel let her question hang. When Iren
didn’t answer, she turned away and resumed walking. Iren followed
her silently for over an hour before Rondel called them to a halt.
“This looks like a good spot,” she said. “We can train here a while
before continuing westward.”

Iren glanced around, unimpressed. This patch
of woods didn’t seem any different from the others they’d walked
through. “What kind of training?” he asked. “What do I have to
do?”

Rondel gave him a mischievous grin that made
him gulp. “Simple,” she said, “hit me.”

Balear walked through the world yet felt as
though he had departed reality. He’d left Captain, no, King
Angustion’s temporary lodgings and made his way to Haldessa Castle,
wandering its vacant halls like a ghost. The cold, charred stone
bore testament to the battles fought here, the opulence ruined, and
the voices silenced. Each step rang, echoing hollowly through the
ruin.

Ever since he’d caught up to Iren outside
Ziorsecth, everything Balear had thought he’d known had upended
itself. He’d found Iren’s healing abilities bizarre, but that white
light from his palm had been more than Balear could handle. Balear
wanted just to dismiss it as devil magic, but Iren’s words kept
coming back to him: “All that matters to me now is protecting the
life of someone precious!”

Balear kicked a piece of rubble. Iren’s
changes were unsettling enough, yet they paled in comparison to
what had happened to Haldessa and, more disturbingly, King
Angustion. As Balear meandered through Haldessa’s vacant halls,
dark premonitions gathered around him. If enemies could bring down
this great castle, then truly nothing on Raa was secure.

King Angustion, however, hardly looked
affected by the tragedy. He was more interested in trinkets like
Rondel’s dagger. Balear held the traitor’s tiny weapon in his hand,
doubt gnawing at him. What kind of leader would the new king be?
The mere fact that Balear asked himself that question mortified
him. He’d always believed in his superior officer. A truly gifted
man, the king saw events ten steps in advance and reacted
accordingly. Moreover, he never lost his temper. Even when his
subordinates failed, he forgave them and motivated them to try
harder next time.

Balear wondered what could have caused such
a dramatic change in King Angustion’s behavior. He’d never seen the
man react as violently as he had that morning. Doubtlessly, devil
magic had something to do with it. From the second Balear had laid
eyes on the king’s new sword, glowing red like some demon’s blade,
he’d been convinced. That weapon was evil.

Still, the king had confronted countless
challenges in his life. The crown, the sword, and the magic had all
only recently come to him. With time he would adapt. Until then,
Balear would simply have to accept the king’s temperament and
support him faithfully.

Balear spent most of the afternoon wandering
the castle, absorbed in old memories and fighting back tears. By
dinnertime, his whole body ached both physically and emotionally,
and all he really wanted was a hot meal and a long, long rest.

He received neither. The castle’s kitchens
were just as obliterated as the rest of the place. In one of the
pantries he came across some not completely charred bread, salted
pork, and ale so old he determined no one should ever drink it. He
was so famished he consumed it anyway.

As for sleep, he’d nearly returned to Ceere
to find a room for the night when a young man ran up, a servant in
Amroth’s new residence by the look of him. The man bowed deeply to
Balear, saying, “King Angustion sent me to find you. He commands
all Castle Guard members to meet with him immediately.”

The order unsettled Balear. After the
display that morning, he had no desire to see the king just now.
Then again, that outburst was probably all the more reason not to
keep him waiting.

The servant led the way back to the house
and ushered Balear into one of King Angustion’s chambers. With the
sun fully set, the room had a morbid feel to it, lit only with
candles on tall, narrow sconces. Balear gulped, not just at the
setting but at the small number of those gathered. Including
himself, not even a dozen Castle Guard members stood before the
king.

The moment Balear arrived, King Angustion
began, his tone grave, “Look around, all of you. This is all that
remains of the Castle Guard. This is all that remains of Lodia’s
strength. Only you few, who were not at the castle when the
Quodivar attacked, escaped with your lives.”

Balear glanced at the other men assembled,
realizing that they all came from the same company, a group
regularly detached to Ceere to monitor the docks. He wondered what
each of those men felt at this moment, to have survived when so
many others had fallen. He knew how he felt about it. If not for
his loyalty to Lodia, he would have killed himself the moment he’d
heard.

“
Haldessa’s fall taught me
a critical lesson.” The king met the eyes of everyone in the room,
his words boring into them with cold intensity. “Lodia is weak. It
has been weak for centuries. We pretended the Castle Guard was an
army, but they never amounted to anything more than a minor militia
barely able to defend itself. To be sure, we defeated the Quodivar
and Yokai, but it cost us nearly all our strength. Our neighbors
will not sit idly with us in such dire straits. They will attack
unless we rebuild quickly!”

Balear frowned, not sure how to take King
Angustion’s speech. He agreed that rebuilding the Castle Guard and
Haldessa was a good idea, but he didn’t follow the king’s logic
about the neighboring countries. Lodia had solid relations with all
of them aside from the Kodamas, and they never left their forest
anyway. Even in Lodia’s weakened state, it was hard to see any of
the surrounding nations as dangers.

“
But we must do more than
rebuild,” King Angustion continued. “We must make ourselves
stronger than ever before. Therefore, these are my orders. Travel
throughout Lodia and spread my edict that all young, able-bodied
men are hereby immediately drafted into Lodian military service.
They shall come to Haldessa, where I will personally train them. We
will have a grand army of Lodia! No one will stand against us,
because our numbers and skill will make any potential adversary
quiver in fear!”

Glancing around, Balear could see the other
Castle Guard members looked as uneasy about the king’s decision as
he was. None of the history books recalled a time when Lodia
possessed such an army, nor had any king instituted a draft in the
country’s written history.

“
My liege,” the head of the
Ceere detachment spoke up, his voice trembling, “what is the
purpose of this army? Do you intend to attack another
nation?”

King Angustion gave the man a look of such
withering contempt that Balear flinched, remembering the fireball
from earlier that day. “Its purpose does not matter. I am the king,
and you shall obey or be found guilty of treason! You do not
understand the peril surrounding us. Thanks to Balear’s failure,”
he turned his harsh gaze to the sergeant, “both Rondel Thara and
Iren Saitosan remain at large. These traitors seek to poison our
neighbors against us.”

Though he looked like he might wet himself,
the Ceere company leader dared to open his mouth once more, “Great
king, do you really believe these criminals pose such a danger?
After all, they are just two people and—”

He never got to finish his sentence, because
in that moment, King Angustion flicked his hand at the man. A jet
of flame shot forth, igniting the soldier’s clothes. The poor man
screamed and fell to the floor, writhing as he tried to douse the
flames. No matter how he rolled, however, they would not abate. The
fires burned until his flesh caught as well. Balear turned away,
unable to watch as the soldier’s cries gradually faded. When he
dared look again, he immediately wished he hadn’t. Where the man
had stood less than a minute ago, only ash remained. The other
Castle Guard members stared in horror at their king. Balear felt
the urge to vomit on the spot, the spoiled ale in his stomach not
helping matters.

“
Let those who would resist
the draft know that this is the penalty of disobedience. I will not
suffer any insubordination.” King Angustion let his words hover in
the air alongside the acrid smell of burnt flesh. He then took a
seat on his high-backed chair and gave a dismissive wave of his
hand. The meeting was over.

The remaining soldiers tripped over
themselves getting to the door, all but one. Balear hung back, some
strange force holding him in place. He longed to question his new
king, to demand why the man he loved and admired would do such a
vile thing, yet he dared not. To question the king was, as his
liege had made quite plain, equivalent to treason and punishable by
death. Besides, although the king might use brutal tactics, Balear
reminded himself that Azuluu’s luxuriant ways hadn’t made Lodia
secure. On the contrary, they had led to its near destruction.
Perhaps this new approach, violent though it may be, was the right
way to protect Lodia.

He’d just made up his mind to leave when
King Angustion barked, “Wait, Balear.”