Khollo turned to see that the men of Ishkabur had formed a defensive line in the entrance to the city, a bristling wall of spears and shields. The archers had lowered their bows on the wall above, but Khollo was sure that there would still be arrows nocked on their bowstrings. He raised his hands, palms outward, in a gesture of peace, still holding the Sen-teel in his right hand.
“We mean you no harm, people of Ishkabur!” he called. “We fight with the Sthan, not against them. I am Khollo Kurkan, and this is Kanin.”
A soldier stepped out of the defensive line cautiously, sheathing his sword. “Is your dragon . . . safe?” he asked tentatively.
“He is not my dragon,” Khollo replied. “I do not own him. We are friends though, bound to each other by stronger ties. But yes, he is quite safe, unless you are our enemy.”
“That I am not,” the soldier said quickly. “If you’ll forgive my asking, how is this possible?”
Khollo smiled. “Do you know the old stories of dragons and the men bound to them?”
“Er, not really, no,” the soldier admitted.
Khollo shrugged. “Read up on them. And know this: The Keepers have returned.”
A commotion erupted at the gate, drawing Khollo’s attention. The soldiers were parting quickly, clearing a path. Then out of the turmoil marched an honor guard of six soldiers. The first man flinched visibly when he caught sight of Kanin, but quickly recovered. The soldiers crashed to a halt, and a seventh man shoved his way to the front.
“Who are you?” he asked bluntly, without preamble.
Khollo sized the man up. He was clad in armor painted a pale blue-white, like the surface of a frozen lake, a howling wolf in silver on the left side of his breastplate. A wolf’s head clasp secured a gray cloak over his right shoulder, and the silver-chased hilt of a broadsword poked up over his left shoulder.
“Lord Horam, I presume?” Khollo asked.
“Yes,” the lord replied curtly.
“I am Khollo Kurkan,” Khollo said. “And this is Kanin.”
“Kurkan?” Horam asked, recognizing the name immediately. “I had no idea Janis had a son.”
“Nephew,” Khollo replied.
“He sent you, though?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Khollo said.
“Well, well,” Lord Horam murmured, rubbing his hands together. “Lord Kurkan never said anything about a dragon.”
“He actually doesn’t know about it,” Khollo said with a small smile. “I haven’t been at the West Bank for over a month.”
“Really? Where have you been, then?”
“It’s a long story,” Khollo told him, glancing over his shoulder. “And it will have to wait. You have three galleys that are anchoring now, ready to resupply you and then we need to get everyone inside the walls before the vertaga realize they have lost the harbor.”
The lord of Ishkabur hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. “Corporal, get those galleys unloaded with all speed. Then get everyone back inside. I must return to the keep at once.” The corporal, who had been the first to greet Khollo, saluted and began barking orders. Behind him, Khollo heard gangplanks being lowered and sailors calling for help.
“As for you, Khollo Kurkan and . . . Kanin, was it? If you would keep an eye on the vertaga until the resupplying is complete I would be most grateful.”
“Of course, Lord Horam,” Khollo said.
Kanin extended a foreleg and Khollo climbed aboard, securing his legs with the fighting straps once more. The wolf man must be careful he does not make the mistake of thinking he controls us, Kanin growled. We answer to no lord or king, is that not so?
It is, Khollo assured the dragon. But we will help where we can. There is nothing subservient about lending a hand, is there?
I suppose not. But if he begins throwing orders at us may I flame him?
Khollo laughed at the dragon’s question. Not the first time, no. But if he persists I may have to think about it.
Kanin snorted and took off, buffeting the soldiers on the ground with his massive wings. A few staggered to regain their balance, and the three galleys strained against the mooring lines for a moment under the sudden breeze. Then, Kanin was climbing high into the air and everything on the ground returned to normal.
Now that they were not in the middle of a battle, Khollo surveyed Ishkabur and the surrounding lands with a curious eye. He had never been further south than the Fells before, and this snow-covered world of mountains and cliffs was new to him. The mountains to the north, east, and south were all capped with white; great, grim, gray monoliths frowning down on the city. Pine forests covered the foothills of the mountains, the pines liberally dusted with powdery snow as well.
Within the borders of the city wall, Khollo saw no snow though. The central complex of towers and walls that was the main keep was situated west of center, closer to the harbor. East of the keep, much of the city was a charred, black ruin, no doubt the result of the fire Khollo had seen in his vision. That would account for some of the lack of snow. The rest of the city looked almost deserted, save for a few smithies, armories, and barracks that blazed with light and warmth.
The people are gone, Khollo explained to Kanin. They evacuated those who couldn’t fight before the city was surrounded.
Speaking of surrounded, where are the vertaga camped? Kanin asked.
Khollo frowned, realizing he had not identified that all-important place yet. He twisted in the saddle to look east. A narrow road ran out from a gate there and straight into a thick pine forest which began a hundred meters from the wall. Not long after that the land rose
