Loran spoke gravely. “But that changes nothing. Once the legion arrives, we will likely be defeated.”
“Even if I appear in the skies?”
But you were defeated by a gigatherion, twenty years ago.Loran did not say these words, but her tact was unnecessary. The dragon knew all too well the reason for its chains.
“Even if we win this battle, the Empire has a hundred legions. If one does not defeat us they will send two, if two does not then three, if three does not then…”
Loran stopped herself before she mentioned the Star of Mersia.
“You believe,”said the dragon,“that Arland will fall in the end. That it will never escape the grip of the Empire. Then why do you persist in your fight?”
The dragon’s tone was more curious than accusatory.
“Because it is what the people of Arland desire the most. To fight for freedom is our destiny.”
“And is defeat at the hands of the Empire also your destiny?”
Loran answered slowly, thinking as she spoke, “Victory or defeat matters less than the fact that we fight. For there to be a next time, Arland must survive, but our spirit must also. If we abandon this battle, there will never be another. But if we fight, maybe one day, when…”
The dragon roared in satisfaction.
“That is right, Loran. But that is why you must know you are king.So that the title of king may befit whomever follows in your steps. That even if you are felled in battle and die, the people of Arland shall remember that there was a king who rose up. Destiny may offer men and women who would be kings, but only the people may exalt them.
“But I do not feel this battle will end so. I see this country again through this eye of you who have become king. I see a different future for Arland. I also believe that you shall not die in this coming battle.”
It still felt like empty encouragement to Loran. She corrected her grip and continued to practice. A silence flowed. After a few repetitions, the dragon spoke once more.
“Your sword… Can you fight without my fang?”
“I realized it first when I fought the Powered soldier in the woods, but Wurmath contains only a little of your power. As you first told me, the sword is merely a symbol. What you have given me is far greater than the weapon.”
She focused on her warm left eye. It shone brighter; heat circulated in her body. Scales budded on the back of her hands. Her fingernails sharpened, the sword in her hand heated too, and smoke began rising from the blade.
Closing her eyes, she calmed herself. The blade cooled quickly. The scales on the back of her hands fell to the floor. Her left eye dimmed.
“And if I am truly king, as you say, then I need the sword even less.”
“Your power is not a thing I have given you. It became your own as you became king. I only provided the spark.”There was satisfaction in the dragon’s voice.“I am accustomed to slumber through the season of ice and snow, but this winter, you have made sleep impossible. I shall rest a little now. Perhaps that will lessen the fright of the sorcerer child.”
Loran had one final question. “You said that you saw the future of Arland. When the Empire invaded this land twenty years ago, what did you see then?”
The dragon hesitated before speaking again.
“I saw the Empire’s forces trampled beneath me, never to cast so much as their shadow on Arland.”
“I see.” Loran smiled.
“I was young then.”With this final quip, the dragon vanished from Loran’s vision. Her left eye was blind once more. She fastened her eyepatch. Then, from the weapons rack, she chose a legionary’s shortsword and gripped it in her left hand.
34CAIN
The downward passageway was like the inside of a well, with winding steps protruding from the circular wall. It was bright with a light from an unseen source. The passage had to lead to the Circuit of Destiny. Cain had the feeling he’d seen these stairs before. It was a memory as faint as someone else’s dream. Why was he imagining there would be an old skeletal body at the bottom of these steps?
The steps were endless, the common lime-painted wall seeming to go down into the depths of the earth. It was uncertain how far down he had come, or how far he still had to go. His shoes were in his left hand to lessen the chances of Safani hearing his approaching footsteps. In the deep silence of this place, the squelching of his boots had seemed mercilessly loud even to him. Taking off the shoes, though, only made him more aware of the sound of his breath.
In his right hand was the sword of the guard who had justdied. He had never held a soldier’s weapon before. It was heavy and awkward in his grip, but since he’d lost his dagger, he had no other weapon to use against Safani.
Finally, the bottom. There was an iron door. The lock lay broken on the floor, looking as if it had been struck with something heavy, leaving scrape marks. The marks were too deep and wide to be from a knife or a sword; did Safani carry an axe? He tried to recall what little he had seen of Safani. There was his stern expression, but Cain’s memories were all very unclear. There was something about these quiet stairs that made it so…
