Doom of the Dragon Read online

  He poured himself a glass of wine and summoned a slave to dress him in robes of purple trimmed in gold. This done, he ordered the man to bring his breakfast. Raegar was once more gazing out the window, sipping his wine, when he heard the girl who had entertained him last night stirring beneath the sheets.

  He walked over, smiling, and was about to yank off the silken coverlet when the girl rolled over. The god Aelon regarded him from the pillow, cool and unsmiling.

  Raegar staggered back, shocked and stammering.

  Aelon threw aside the sheets, sat up, and stepped out of bed. She was fully clothed in robes of white lamb’s wool. Her hair was braided and fastened with jeweled pins. She wore two gold serpent bracelets and a heavy gold necklace formed of seven serpents, each with a glittering ruby eye. Walking up to Raegar, she took the cup of wine from his hand and drank.

  Raegar began to sweat.

  “Were … were you here all night? Were you … the girl…”

  Aelon spat a mouthful of wine into his face. “Are you saying you cannot tell the difference between making love to some human whore and your god?”

  Raegar blinked wine from his burning eyes.

  “No, no, I … I … I…”

  “Shut up,” said Aelon. “Clean your face.”

  She turned away, saying over her shoulder. “You swore to me you would be faithful to your wife.”

  Raegar mopped his face, cleansing it of wine and perspiration. “Treia is pregnant, as you know, Revered Aelon, and she fears something is wrong with the child. She won’t let me touch her. She told me to leave her bed. The midwives think it would be best for her and the child if I don’t upset her. A man has needs…”

  His voice trailed off.

  Aelon stood in silence, drinking the wine. Raegar began to grow frightened.

  “All is well with your wife’s pregnancy,” said Aelon at last. “I will reassure her.”

  Still she did not look at him.

  “I know I have displeased you, Revered Aelon,” said Raegar humbly. “If this is about the loss of the ship, I can explain—”

  “Ship!” Aelon snorted. “What do I care about ships? Your cousin, Skylan, is not dead.”

  “Not dead? Impossible!” Raegar said, amazed. “I threw the spear that killed him. I saw his blood flow! I saw him fall! I watched him die!”

  “Nonetheless, he is not dead,” Aelon said. “He is not alive, but he is not dead.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Raegar, frowning. “How can he be both?”

  “Some god loves him,” Aelon muttered. She held out her goblet. “More wine.”

  Raegar poured the wine. He longed to pour a drink for himself, but he knew he needed to remain sober, keep his wits about him.

  “Where is Skylan?” Raegar asked. “Tell me where to find him and this time, I swear, I will finish him!”

  “Your cousin has gone where you cannot follow. He is now my concern,” said Aelon. “I will deal with him, his wife, and the spiritbones. She has acquired the third, the spiritbone in the possession of the Sea Goddess. The one you promised to bring to me.”

  “I can explain—”

  “Please do so.” Aelon arched an eyebrow and said mockingly, “From the stories I hear, you were the hero of that battle. Tell me, Raegar, how many men did you kill single-handed?”

  Raegar considered the god’s taunt unjust. “I had to tell the people something to explain my absence and the loss of the ship, Revered Aelon. I am their emperor. You would not have them lose faith in me.”

  Aelon regarded him in silence, then grudgingly conceded. “I suppose not.”

  She poured herself more wine. Walking over to a map of the world spread out on a large table, she placed her finger at a southern point on the map and tapped her finger on a spot in the ocean.

  “This is the current location of your cousin’s dragonship, the Venejekar. His wife, that Kai Priestess of Vindrash. Your wife’s sister. The one you lust after. What is her name?”

  “Aylaen, Revered Aelon,” Raegar mumbled, flushing.

  While it was true he had once lusted after Aylaen, he found the thought of her sickened him. Whenever he thought of her now, he heard her accusations against Treia.

  Treia made a bargain with Hevis, God of Lies and Deceit, Aylaen had told him. She promised to sacrifice someone she loved and in return he gave her the ability to summon the Vektia dragon. She failed to keep her bargain. Hevis will not forget. I would watch what she puts in my soup if I were you.

  Her accusations were one of the reasons he had been avoiding Treia. He could have explained to Aelon, but he feared Aelon might think he and Treia had conspired with Hevis together. Once his son was born, he would see to it that Treia would never pray to a heathen god again.

  Aelon irritably snapped her fingers under his nose. “Are you listening to me?”

  Raegar came back to reality with a guilty start. “Yes, Revered Aelon!”

  “I asked you a question. Where do you think Aylaen and the Venejekar are bound?”

  “I don’t know, Revered Aelon,” said Raegar. “Back to Vindraholm?”

  “Far from it. Vindrash tried to conceal Aylaen from me, but at last I found her. She is sailing on this course. See where it leads.”

  Raegar frowned, puzzled. “That route would take her to the realm of the Stormlords. Why would she go there, to a land of foul wizards?”

  “Why indeed?”

  Aelon lifted her gaze to meet his, apparently expecting him to know the answer. Raegar was in no mood to play games. He shook his head.

  “Forgive me, Revered Aelon, I was up late last night, preparing for a meeting today with these very Stormlords.”

  “You were up late, but not for that reason,” Aelon said, her lip curling. “I know where to find the fourth spiritbone and now Aylaen has given me the location of the fifth.”

  She tapped her finger on the map.

  “The realm of the Stormlords!”

  Raegar was astonished at first. The more he considered the matter, the more it made sense. The wizards had been hiding in their secret kingdom for centuries. If one believed the bards, they traced their history back to the time of the fall of the Great Dragon Ilyrion.

  “I think you are right, Revered Aelon,” said Raegar. “She would not risk traveling to that dangerous region for any other reason. But she wastes her time. Their city is said to be hidden by powerful magicks. No one can find it.”

  “Yet that is what you must do, Raegar,” said Aelon. “Locate the hidden city and find a way to enter it.”

  “The Stormlords pay us tribute yearly to be left in peace,” Raegar said doubtfully. “A large quantity of gold and jewels. The treasury would suffer—”

  “Let it suffer, then. I do not want their gold and jewels!” Aelon said in scathing tones. “I want the Stormlords to open the gates of their hidden city to me. I want them to worship me, to bow before me and call me their lord. I want them to give me the spiritbone!”

  She was silent, drumming her fingers on her bare arms, stalking her prey. Raegar felt a pulse of excitement, the thrill of the hunt.

  “I want you to send my priests to that land,” Aelon said at last. “Their mission will be to carry the message of my love and care to these benighted people. And, if, in their proselytizing, they happen to stumble upon this hidden city or discover the spiritbone, so much the better.”

  “I understand, Revered Aelon,” said Raegar, grinning.

  Aelon smiled. “You have a way to communicate with them?”

  “I will order them to report to the Watchers, who will bring their reports to me.”

  “Send with the priests some of the gold and jewels the Stormlords pay you,” said Aelon. “One can always find a man willing to betray his country for a price. You would know, wouldn’t you, Raegar?”

  She cocked her eye at him. Raegar flushed in anger, but he managed to control himself.

  “To betray one’s country, one must have a country,” he said. �
��My people left me wounded on the field of battle to be taken prisoner and made a slave. It was then I found you, Revered Aelon. I sought you as a man who thirsts seeks cool water…”

  He averted his head, ashamed of his emotions.

  “Forgive me, Raegar,” Aelon said remorsefully, putting her hand to his cheek. “I spoke thoughtlessly. You know I value you. I would not have made you my emperor otherwise.”

  Aelon drank the last of the wine. Drawing close to him, she rested her hands on his broad chest. The serpents on the golden necklace jingled, her bracelets clicked.

  “This mission is vitally important, Raegar. I will soon have four of the spiritbones in my possession. Aylaen has three. I now know the location of the fourth and I believe the Stormlords have the fifth. Once I have all five, the power of creation will be mine. The world will be mine.”

  “And you will be mine,” said Raegar. “We will rule this world together as you promised me.”

  “I will keep my promise, if you will keep yours,” Aelon said, giving him a playful slap. “Remember what I said about your wife. You vowed to be faithful to Treia. I expect you to keep that vow. Thus you will prove you can be faithful to me.”

  She brushed her lips against his cheek. “You will be well rewarded, Raegar.”

  “Once I have you, I will need no other,” said Raegar.

  He tried to return her kiss, but Aelon eluded his grasp and vanished. He breathed deeply, his body quivering.

  * * *

  Treia watched the sun stream through the window of the beautiful palace in which she lived, and wearily closed her eyes. She had been awake most of the night, shifting in her bed, trying in vain to sleep. She could not get comfortable. Her belly was huge and the baby kicked almost constantly, as though trying to kick his way out.

  Rolling and pushing herself off the bed, she waddled over to look at herself in the mirror. The baby had stopped kicking for the moment. Having been awake all night, he must need rest.

  She was alone in the enormous room, surrounded by every luxury. All she had to do was ring a bell and she could have anything her heart desired, from candied peacock tongues to a cask of rubies. She passed her hand over her swollen belly and shivered in fear.

  She was intimately familiar with pregnancies. As a former priestess of Vindrash, she had been present at the births of countless children. She knew hers was not right and yet no one would believe her. She was only a few weeks pregnant and she looked as though she would give birth any moment.

  The midwives told her she had miscalculated the date. Treia knew quite well she had not. She remembered vividly the night the child had been conceived. The god Hevis had visited her, reminding her that she had agreed to sacrifice someone she loved in return for his help with the spiritbone. She had tried to murder Aylaen, but that had failed. The only other people she loved were Raegar … and the baby growing inside her.

  Hevis had promised to return in nine months to hear her choice for sacrifice—her husband or her child. But he would not have to wait nine months. The child was growing abnormally fast, as though her pregnancy was being speeded up, rushing, she feared, to some disastrous end.

  Treia made her slow way over to a couch and ponderously and awkwardly lowered herself among the silken cushions. The baby had not yet dropped and was squeezing her lungs, making breathing difficult. She bowed her head, covered her face with her hands, and began to sob. She knew she shouldn’t weep. The midwives had told her to be happy and cheerful. Dark thoughts could harm the unborn babe.

  Treia was too frightened to be cheerful. She had lost control of her own body. The child had seized it and while she loved her unborn baby more than life itself, she couldn’t help but be scared.

  She wept hysterically, unable to stop. A hand rested gently on her shoulder and a sweet voice spoke soothingly.

  “Hush, child. You will make yourself ill.”

  Treia was astonished to see a plump motherly looking woman sitting beside her on the couch. She might have thought this was some servant, but the woman was beautifully dressed in white robes of soft lamb’s wool and wore two golden bracelets and a golden necklace of serpents. Treia did not know the woman, though there was something familiar about her.

  “Who are you?” Treia gasped, drawing away from the woman’s touch. “How did you get into my chambers?”

  “I am Aelon, my child,” said the woman. She stroked Treia’s hair with a soft hand. “You prayed to me for help and I am here in answer.”

  Treia had not prayed to Aelon or any god, but she knew better than to argue. Weak and afraid, she needed help and she would take it from any source.

  “Aelon, I am so frightened!” Treia said, choking. “My pregnancy numbers in weeks. I know it! And yet look at me! Something is wrong!”

  “My dear daughter, nothing is wrong,” said Aelon soothingly. “I have hurried things along, that is all. Momentous events are happening in the world. We cannot wait nine months for the emperor’s son to be born.”

  Treia gaped at her. “I don’t understand…”

  “I know and I have much to tell you. But first, I will make us a nice cup of tea and bring you something to eat. Your boy needs nourishment.”

  Treia watched in astonishment as the god waited on her. Aelon brewed a tea that was the most delicious Treia had ever tasted and calmed her spirits. Then the god flicked her hand and all Treia’s favorite foods appeared. She found she was famished, and ate with good appetite. After the meal, Aelon arranged the cushions around Treia, fussed over her, making sure she was comfortable, and then sat down beside her.

  “Now for a nice cozy, womanly chat. May I be candid with you, my dear?” Aelon asked.

  “Yes, certainly,” said Treia.

  “Your husband, Raegar, is a strong ruler and a great warrior, but, let us face it, Treia, he is a man and as such he has his limits. He knows nothing about summoning dragons and he will need the Dragon Fala, to fight for him should we go to war. Fala is most upset with your husband’s bungling and has threatened to leave my service. The dragon likes you and has agreed to serve you. Knowing this, I have arranged for your son to be born ahead of time, so that you will be ready to help in the event we go to war.”

  Treia gazed at the god in wonder.

  “All this time, I have felt so useless … so alone.…” Treia began to sob again.

  Aelon put her arms around her and held her close, rocking her and soothing her.

  “Never alone, Treia,” Aelon murmured. “You are dear to me. I have seen your son’s future. He will be the most powerful ruler in the world, lord of all the people of all the nations. He will make his mother proud.”

  Treia sank to her knees on the floor. “Aelon, forgive me! I have been jealous of you and my husband. The two of you seem so close. I feared you were trying to take him from me.”

  “What a silly goose you are, my child,” said Aelon in loving tones. “You know better now, don’t you? You are Empress of Sinaria. All will know it, for I give you this gift.”

  Aelon removed the heavy gold necklace made of serpents and fastened it around Treia’s neck. “A mark of my love and esteem.”

  Treia drew in a deep breath and placed her hand reverently upon the necklace. The gold was still warm from the touch of the god.

  “Thank you, Aelon! I am yours to command!”

  “I know, Daughter,” said Aelon, smiling. “I know.”

  CHAPTER

  6

  Torval’s Hall was high in the mountains, overlooking a vast sea where Joabis said his dragonship was waiting for him. Skylan expected the god to whisk them through the ether, as he had taken him to visit the Norn, but Joabis insisted that they had to walk.

  The path that led from the hall to the shore was rocky, steep, and difficult to traverse, especially in the snow and ice. Skylan slid and slipped down the side of the mountain, and by the time they reached the shore, he was scraped and bruised and in an ill humor.

  “Now you know why I rarely visit T
orval,” Joabis grumbled, plucking pine needles from his hair. “He won’t set a toe on my island, however, so I have no choice but to come to him.”

  Skylan looked back up at Torval’s Hall. The top of the mountain was shrouded by storm clouds and he could not see it.

  “Where is this ship of yours?” he asked Joabis.

  “I beached it in a cove not far from here.”

  Joabis led the way, walking across the sand. The air was much warmer. The sun beat down on them, as though Aylis didn’t much like Joabis, and Skylan was soon sweating and regretting wearing his heavy armor.

  Joabis proceeded at a swift pace, saying he was eager to leave this place and return to his island, and Skylan lost sight of him among the thick trees and heavy vegetation. He knew where he was because he could hear the god crashing among the foliage and shouting for him to hurry. After fighting his way through a tangle of vines, Skylan came to a small, sheltered bay surrounded by trees. The seawater was blue green and clear, with barely a wavelet as it flowed over the rippling sand.

  The dragonship was lying on the beach. Skylan expected to find members of the crew waiting for the god or at least someone standing guard on the ship, but no one was around. The beach was empty except for Joabis, who was scratching his head and looking perplexed.

  “Where’s your crew?” Skylan called, slogging through the sand.

  “I don’t know,” Joabis replied. “I gave them a full barrel of ale to keep them company. They were just broaching it when I left. Perhaps they grew bored with waiting and wandered off. I’ll go search for them.”

  Joabis began shouting names, calling for his missing crewmen.

  Skylan shook his head in disgust and went over to inspect the ship.

  “I know why no one is guarding it,” he muttered. “It’s not worth stealing.”

  The dragonship was old and dilapidated. The paint was peeling, and the sail had so many patches he could not find much of the original canvas. Barnacles covered the hull and might be all that was holding the ship together. He doubted they would make it out of the cove before it sank.