Lords of the Sky

There were no soldiers in the dozijan, no Kho’rabi knights to oppose us and give their lives to the slaughter- the Attul-ki were too confident of their power that they should guard themselves with warriors. What need, in a land that saw them as gifted by the Three, themselves like gods, omnipotent? But there were Kho’rabi in the town below, and they were coming fast in defense of the priests. “The Dedicated,” they named themselves, and that they were, for they evinced no fear at the sight of what sat atop the walls of the dozijan, and flew above the place, and tore it apart. They only advanced, perhaps seven fylie, black-armored and hurrying, intent only on joining in battle with such invaders as they could never have seen and likely never even dreamed. But still they came determinedly on.

I stood aghast in the yard, my spirit divided between nausea and the savage triumph of the dragons. Rwyan stood beside me, and we both had a hand to Tezdal’s shoulders as he crouched and wept, the both of us knowing it should do no good, not now, to speak with him. There were no words that fit.

It was Deburah told me the Kho’rabi came, just as Anryale warned Rwyan and Peliane Tezdal. He paid his dragon no heed, but Rwyan and I bent close then and spoke into his ears, and then he raised a face all run with tears and said, “As you love me, let there be no more killing.”

Rwyan said, “That was never our intention; only peace.”

Tezdal said, “Then let it end! I cannot bear this guilt!”

I thought it should be hard to halt the dragons and certain that they would fall on the Kho’rabi were we threatened. I looked for Deburah and found her lifting up a section of roof, the timbers spilling like splinters from her rending claws. I called her down, not sure she’d respond, and felt surprise that she came so swift to my summons.

Peliane and Anryale landed with her, and I felt their concern for Tezdal like a surge of heady anger. They’d rise up and fall on the advancing column-they’d swoop all the skies of Ahn-feshang in bloody destruction-but Rwyan bade them be calm and take us away and bring the others with us, and-reluctant-they agreed.

We lifted Tezdal to his feet and helped him mount Peliane. I buckled him in place. He sat slumped, his eyes tight-closed, though tears came trickling out from under the shut lids. I mounted Deburah, and Rwyan climbed astride Anryale. We winged into the brightness of the morning before the Kho’rabi reached the gates of the dozijan, and I was bemused that all the dragons followed us; as if we took Bellek’s place as leaders.

We gained height, and for the first time I saw the magic that filled the Sky Lords’ dread airboats. It gusted from those mountains like pus from an opened boil, as if the earth blew poison into the air. They were raw caverns, those hills, the stone of their peaks melted off into the savage fires below, great gaping maws all filled with flame and molten stuff that spewed out in great liquid bubbles and wafts of noxious gas. I felt about them as I did about the crystals that empowered Dhar magic-they had their own life and corrupted men.

The dragons, no less, were unhappy around those holes, and so we took them away to find Bellek and Urt and decide our next move.

Which we could not until Tezdal woke from his stupor.

He sat Peliane’s saddle like a tranced man. His eyes were closed and he gave her no commands, only slumped, swaying with the motion of her wingbeats as we went north. She followed Deburah and Anryale, her sendings a wash of concern for her bond-mate. They were no smaller than my own.

We found Bellek winging back to join us, glorying in the destruction he’d wrought. His seamed face was lit with joy, as if he’d found some climax to his life and should not find better. I felt the message he sent: All’s done! There are no more skyboats-the armada is destroyed! There shall be no more Comings.

I felt a measure of relief at that, but also a sadness, for I thought some part of his humanity was gone away; and I feared some part of mine must follow, for I had known that glorious sharing in the naked power of the dragons and wondered if I should go down that same path.

I “heard” Rwyan ask, What of Tezdal?

And Bellek answer, He’ll do his duty. Wait.

I could not be certain what followed then-a transportation of messages between the dragons that I’d not yet the subtlety of control to properly understand. I knew only that Bellek communicated with the dragons and Tezdal woke as if from drunken sleep.

He raised his head and wiped his eyes, and Peliane’s proud head rose higher, and he said, The dozijan of Ahn-khem is not the only stronghold.

Bellek said, No. But the others shall not oppose us.

Tezdal said, Then the Attul-ki are gone?

Bellek said, Many of them. Some live still, but there shall be no great magicks sent against us. Neither the Great Coming sent against Dharbek. That dream is ended.

There was a long silence as we circled over Ahn-khem. It was a sorry silence, for all we’d done what we planned to do; or most of it. I wondered why I felt no sense of success or triumph, but only empty, a chagrin that scattered ashes on my soul.

Then Tezdal said, The Khe’anjiwha resides in his citadel, at Khejimar. Best we go there to present our terms.

His voice was brittle, like a wire drawn too tight.

Rwyan said, Then do we go there, and settle this matter?

And as he’d done before, as we approached his homeland and his honor’s heart, Tezdal drove Peliane onward in a great rush of wingbeats, as if he’d outfly his destiny. Or hurry to meet it. I knew not which, only that I must ride Deburah after him and be with him, for I think I loved him no less than she, or Rwyan, or Urt. I surely know that I felt afraid of what I heard in his voice and saw in his eyes.

We came to Khejimar as the sun sank westward. It was Kherbryn built in wood, only the walls that surrounded the city and the Khe’anjiwha’s palace showing any stone. It was a vast sprawling place, the half spread up the sides of a precipitous valley, the rest layering down in wide terraces to the banks of the river that gushed through floodgates and mill-races to the broad stream below. It was all stone-walled, intricate lines of blue and red bricks rising in complex folds about the wooden houses inside to meet the dark gray granite of the palace. That stood aloof over the city, all towers and curving arches. I saw gardens and wide streets, fountains fed by the spilling river water. Mostly I saw wide eyes and gaping mouths as we swept in, adragonback, out of the sun.

There were archers on the ramparts, and they loosed shafts at us. Dragons fell upon the bowmen. Deburah laughed at them, and I laughed at them. How could arrows hurt us? We were the Lords of the Sky: we imposed our will on pain of death.

Power corrupts: I must remember that. What we did, we did in honest desire for peace; or so I hoped. But I could not deny that feeling: it was too wild, too exciting. It was too powerful as we came down over the ramparts of Khejimar, the taste of the slain Attul-ki yet strong in our mouths, to deliver our terms to the Khe’anjiwha.

They came out to meet us: the Great Lord of all Ahn-feshang, with his retinue behind him. He seemed of Tezdal’s age and wore armor, so that I could not properly read his eyes or face, and around him stood several hundred Kho’rabi knights with swords drawn ready and axes lifted. Behind them were a score of the black-robed sorcerers of the Attul-ki; and behind them, pike-bearers and archers. More along the battlements-those the dragons had not taken in revenge of the shafts fired.

It was not so large a yard as Bellek’s Dragoncastle, which was to our advantage, for it meant that the dragons settling all about dominated the beetle-armored Kho’rabi. And there were riven bodies strewn in bloody pieces about the ramparts that made our point to horrid excess. But still I thought that these were folk not easily given to defeat, but more likely to fight unto death, in honor of their dream. In honor only.

I must admire such courage: our dragons stood all around us, and likely word had come of what we’d done to the Attul-ki and the dozijan, but still the Khe’anjiwha faced us in full battle armor, with his palace guard behind, and seemed entirely prepared to defy us.

I looked to Deburah, standing at my back, and knew her readiness to fight. From Kathanria I felt Bellek’s eagerness: End it now! Slay them!

From Urt: No! Save we must

From Rwyan: We came to speak of peace. Shall we not do that? Hold back, until we’ve no other choice.

From Tezdal only dismay and horror.