“Like Morgan?”
He jerked her wrist hard, lifting her to her tiptoes. “No! Not like Morgan! My father is gentle and kind to his friends, but he has to be harsh with fools and insubordinates, or his enemies will think him spineless.” He raised a tightening fist. “No king will survive for long if he doesn’t crush rebellion.”
The pain from his vise-like grip burned across Mara’s skin. “You’re hurting me!”
“Oh.” He released her and brushed his palm on his shirt. “Sorry. I got carried away.”
Mara rubbed her wrist. She thought of a dozen snide comments to make about the gentility of Mardon’s father, but she didn’t want to risk missing out on visiting the upper lands. “It’s okay,” she whispered.
Mardon patted her on the back. “We’ll go and see Morgan first, then the endless sky.”
Chapter 8
Makaidos stood on his haunches and gazed at the horizon. Even from so many miles away, he could see Nimrod’s Tower looming over the land, like a fist with a rigid finger pointed heavenward. Black smoke rose all around its base, the fires of belching kilns mixing with the foul gases of bubbling tar pits.
“Brick upon brick” he snorted a spray of steam “evil is growing in the city faster than I thought possible.”
“A monument to the pride of men,” Thigocia grumbled as she lay at her mate’s side. “They are supposed to be scattering and filling the earth, but obviously even Noah has no influence over them any longer.”
Makaidos sighed. “True. Most of the sons of Adam are not worthy of our service to them, but the faithful remnant still give me hope.”
“We must keep praying as Noah taught us.” Thigocia laid her head on the ground. “Your father would want you to keep your eyes on the Maker.”
“The Maker is the god of men,” Makaidos said, “and we are but dust of the earth, coarse pegs in a cosmic game. Why should the ever-living one care about those destined to return to dust?”
“Nonsense! What kind of talk is that from the king of the dragons?”
“Sensible talk. Down-to-earth talk. But it matters little. I am content to be his lowly peg.” He bowed his head, letting his snout dip so close to the ground, his hot breath scattered the sandy soil.
Thigocia’s tail moved to his brow and stroked it gently. “Are you really content, my love?”
Makaidos lifted his head and, unable to resist Thigocia’s probing stare, gazed into her deep red eyes. Her powerful mind seemed to penetrate his own, as though she could read his every thought. “Perhaps not. My joy has burned like dry brush.”
Thigocia sighed and looped her tail around his. “When our new one is born, you will feel joy again.”
“How can I feel joy?” Makaidos pulled his tail away. “Goliath had no reason to turn against Noah. His actions defy all logic. By refusing to serve even the faithful humans, he has turned against us as well.”
“You and I know that, but Goliath acts on instinct, on what he feels inside. The people of Shinar have given him reason to despise mankind, have they not? The true followers of Noah are so few now, look where they are forced to live. Rats in caves. That’s what they have become.”
Makaidos couldn’t answer. He just lifted his chin and gazed at the sky. A smaller dragon glided down, sunlight filtering through her honey-colored wings. She landed gracefully in front of Makaidos and Thigocia and bowed her head to each of them. “Father. Mother. Greetings.”
Thigocia touched the young dragon’s face with the tip of her wing. “Welcome home, Roxil.”
Makaidos curled his neck around his daughter’s and winked at Thigocia. “Perhaps joy comes in many packages.”
Roxil backed away. “Packages? What are you talking about?”
“A private joke between your mother and me,” Makaidos said, smiling. “How was your patrol last night?”
“All was quiet. No incidents.” Roxil tilted her head. “Why?”
“I was curious. I felt a twinge of danger around midnight. Something in the direction of Noah’s dwellings. Do you remember seeing anything unusual at that time?”
Roxil’s tail twitched and tapped the ground nervously. “Actually, I was talking to Goliath for a little while.”
“While in flight?”
Roxil half closed her eyes. “No.”
Makaidos thrashed the ground with his tail. “You left your patrol without relief?”
Roxil lowered her head and glared at him. “Just for a few minutes. The human village can survive for a half hour without us guarding it like winged mama bears!”
“You know they count on us for protection. Noah’s people are in constant danger from Nimrod’s raiders.”
“You think I care nothing for the humans?” Plumes of smoke rose from Roxil’s snout. “I will have you know that I uncovered trouble brewing in the city. Nimrod has marshaled a police force to capture more laborers for the tower construction. A dragon is his chief enforcer, one I have never seen.”
Thigocia rose to her haunches. “Never seen? How can that be? You know every dragon in existence.”
Roxil pawed the ground, sketching a crude dragon’s body in the sand. “He is Father’s size, redder, with longer spines at the end of his tail.”
Makaidos locked gazes with Thigocia. “No one in our brood bears such features,” he said.
Roxil scratched away her sketch. “I know what I saw.”
Makaidos stretched out his wings. “I think I should visit Nimrod’s Tower to see who this dragon is and what is afoot. The stories of corruption are too heart-wrenching to believe.”
“I wish I could come with you,” Thigocia said.
“And I, as well.” Makaidos eyed the smoke rising around the tower. “If Nimrod’s soldiers give me trouble, I could use a warrior at my side.”
Roxil thumped her tail. “I will go with you, Father. I am not tired, and I am ready for battle.”
“Nimrod’s men are too dangerous.” Thigocia extended a wing toward Roxil. “She is not skilled enough to fight them.”
Roxil turned to her father. Her eyes flamed, but she stayed silent.
“I think a certain daughter needs an extra mission to atone for her mistake last night.” Makaidos raised a wing over his daughter’s neck. “A reconnaissance mission is an important part of her training, and I will be able to judge if the danger is too great.”
“She has never been in battle,” Thigocia countered. “The first sign of danger could be a hurled spear, and she might never see it coming.”
Makaidos lifted his other wing and rested it on his mate’s back. “If you had avoided battles because you had never been in one, my dear, you would never have become a warrior.”
“My own past has returned to haunt me.” Thigocia laid her head down again. “Would tears help me win the argument? After all, I am a pregnant mother.”
Roxil let out a laugh but quickly stifled it.
Makaidos curled his neck with Thigocia’s and whispered, “Dry your tears. I will take care of her. We will stay at Shem’s grottoes for the night and enter the city at dawn. Surveying the tower before the soldiers roll out of bed will be the best way to avoid a conflict.”
Makaidos nodded at Roxil, giving her a firm, commander’s glare. “Make ready, warrior.” A smile almost broke through, but he managed to squelch it.
Roxil vaulted into the air, beating her wings as she soared upward. She bent her neck toward the earth, shouting, “What are you waiting for? An invitation?”
Makaidos shook his head at Thigocia. “Your daughter is as funny as a spear in the belly.”
Thigocia sighed. “I know. She learned her jokes from you.”
Makaidos smiled and winked, then launched himself into the air. After trumpeting a shrill note, he shouted, “You’re a pretty good flyer for a female.”
Roxil spun a one-eighty, zoomed back to her father, and looped again to fly at his side. “For a female? Do you think you can catch me, my dear old father?”
Makaidos beat his wings and surged ahead. “I already did!”
Father and daughter soared across the skies, practicing dives and sharp turns as they raced toward a village built in the cliffs of a mountain range. When they drew near, Makaidos glided down to a wide ledge that skirted the mountain about halfway up its face. Shem and Japheth ran out to meet them in full battle gear, sheathed swords on their belts and oval shields resting at their hips. “Thank you for answering the call,” Shem said.
“The call?” Makaidos repeated. “What call?”
“A prayer for calling dragons,” Japheth explained. “Our father prayed for you to come and join us in battle. Apparently, you heeded God’s call without even realizing it.” He nodded at Roxil. “And two dragons arrived when we only requested one.”
Makaidos dipped his head. “Your faith is strong, as I would expect from a son of Noah.”
Shem and Japheth looked at each other, both men shifting uneasily. “I wish that all of Noah’s sons would believe his words,” Shem said, “but our brother is one of the reasons for the great evil that festers in the city. It seems that he gave Chereb to his grandson Nimrod, and now Nimrod is practically invincible, at least to pedestrian forces like ours. We endured his taxes and his robbers, but last night a kidnapper stole my granddaughter, probably for the Luna temple.” He tightened his grip on his sword. “I’ve already lost a son to him. I will not lose another soul!”
“I understand,” Makaidos said, gazing out over the plane, “better than you know.” He surveyed the tower as it rose in the center of the vast city. “So you need an attack from the air, and you called for our help.”
“Yes.” Japheth stooped and assembled a pile of rocks, then used his hands to illustrate flying maneuvers. “But if you swoop low and attack his troops on the ground, he can strike you from the tower. Since Chereb shoots out flames, you won’t be able to get anywhere near him.”
Makaidos eyed Japheth’s hands as they circled his rock pile. “So our first target is the tower itself.”
“That was our thought,” Shem said. “While you’re distracting their main army, we’ll bring our troops and crash the northern gate. My granddaughter should be easy to find, but my son has been missing for so long we might have to destroy the entire city to root out his captors.”
Roxil raised a foreleg and swiped the air. “Can two dragons knock down such a large building?”
“Not likely,” Makaidos said, “but if we call your brothers, I think we can destroy it in a firestorm.”
Roxil’s ears twitched. “Like the firestorm you told me about in the battles against the Watchers?”
“Yes. I was too young to participate, but I watched my father carefully.” Makaidos nudged her flank. “Fetch your brothers and meet me back here.”
“With pleasure, Father. I know they will be ready to kill the human cockroaches.” Roxil beat her wings and launched into the sky.
When she disappeared into a passing thunderhead, Makaidos turned back to Shem and Japheth. “My daughter tells me of a dragon in Nimrod’s forces. What do you know about him?”
Japheth rose to his feet and clapped the dirt from his hands. “I was spying on their army yesterday, and I saw him.”
“Did you recognize him?”
“I know exactly who he is, though it seems impossible.” Japheth glanced at his brother, who gave him a quick shake of his head.
Makaidos snorted a stream of dancing sparks. “It is not wise to try a dragon’s patience. Tell me!”
Shem cleared his throat and nodded toward the cave behind him. “I think you had better speak to my father about this. He can explain what’s going on far better than I can.”
Without waiting for a response, Japheth ran toward the cave. “I’ll tell him you’re coming,” he called back.
Shem swept his arm toward the gaping arch in the cliff. “Our home is blessed by your visit.”
Makaidos dipped his head. “I am the one who is receiving the blessing.”
“I must, however, beg your leave.” Shem pointed at a dry riverbed at the base of the cliff. Hundreds of men milled about near a cluster of scrub trees. “Our troops are assembling in the valley, and they would charge into battle this very hour if I let them, so I have to calm their passions until your family arrives.”
“I understand. Anger is a great motivator, but it is a poor general.”
While Shem marched down a sloping path, Makaidos shuffled along the ledge and entered the dim cave, turning on his eyebeams to compensate for the depleted light. After curving around a bend and passing through a lower corridor, he followed a flicker in the distance. Finally, his twin beams fell upon Noah, sitting cross-legged on a mat and leaning back against the cave wall. With a lantern at his side, Japheth was reading from a scroll, while his father nodded his aged head. Then, when he noticed Makaidos, Japheth rolled up the scroll and handed it to his father. With a quick bow, he excused himself from the cave.
Noah lifted his gaze toward Makaidos and smiled. “How long has it been since we’ve talked, my friend?”
Makaidos lay on his belly and sighed. “Too long, Master Noah. I’m afraid that my zeal to serve your tribe has been my poor excuse to neglect our friendship.”
Noah raised a gnarled finger. “Still, I have kept my eye on you and your family. As my sons report on your activities, I am able to pray for you and each of your offspring by name.”
“And I have returned your kindness by guarding your offspring. Shem and Japheth and their families do honor to your name. You have every reason to be proud of them. You are a father among fathers.”
Noah averted his eyes. Shining tears formed in each one. “You honor me too highly. You know that one of my sons has brought this new evil into the world, and I was unable to stop him.”
“Ham would not listen to your wise counsel. That was not your fault.”
“Wasn’t it?” Noah shook his head slowly. “How many times have I asked myself that question? What did I do wrong? What could I have changed to steer him toward faith and righteousness?” He clutched his vest with both hands as if to rend it, but his arms fell weakly into his lap. “After all these years, I have even lost the strength to grieve.”
“You have nothing to be ashamed of. You told Ham the truth.”
“You’re a good friend, always willing to console the bereft.” Noah shook a finger at Makaidos. “But you would do well to remember your own words, for a time is coming when you will need them more than I.”
“A time of grief, Master Noah? Are you prophesying doom?”
“Merely an observation. Japheth has given me details of his conversations with two of your sons and your eldest daughter, and he and I are both greatly concerned about where their hearts lie.”
“Their hearts?”
Noah tapped a finger on his temple. “Actually, their wills. Their allegiances. What is the driving force that motivates their actions?”
“It is supposed to be service to the Maker, who has assigned us to help those still faithful to you. That is why Nimrod’s armies have not overrun you already. We have kept the perimeter free of his invaders.”
“Free of the squadrons, yes, but not free of the smaller kidnapping bands. I assume you know who was guarding us during the first of those raids.”