Swords of the Six (4 page)

Clenching his jaws together, Albino rumbled deep in his throat. "We cannot afford to do nothing."

"I love peace as much as you do," Patient said. "But we must look to our own lands and let a new history be written." The shepherd reached out and touched the last egg, also blue speckled, but only waist-high. "Dragons and men, and all intelligent creatures of the world must learn that life is a gift to be protected and not taken for granted.

"Let the war come. Let humankind
and
dragonkind learn to love the good and hate the evil."

The dragon relaxed his jaw. For a moment he had thought that the shepherd might oppose his plan. It was a bold one, conceived of not long after Letrias's treachery. "Then let us think as one, my friend; for, a hero must rise among humanity in the days to come, or there will be no one to whom they can look for guidance. Dragonkind has the war-like Venom-fier and his wisdom to guide them in the days ahead, but humankind has no one."

Leaning over the egg, Patient put his ear to its shell. A smile deepened the wrinkles at the corners of his mouth. "I take it you have a hero in mind?"

Albino gave a stiff nod of his elegant, horned head. "I have not directly chosen who that hero will be. I trust the Creator to show me at the appropriate time. But for the moment I have chosen the tool that will bring him when the time is right."

Stretching his neck, the dragon nuzzled the smallest egg. "I have poured all of my energy into this undertaking," he said softly, turning his pink eyes toward the other five. "Each of these eggs holds one of my offspring. And one of my offspring has the power within her to bring about the wizard's end, though not through war, nor by her own hand. Her role is vital.
She
will be special."

Patient again leaned toward the smallest egg, and Albino pulled away, his gaze locked on that egg.

Closing his eyes, the old shepherd again placed his hand on the shell. "Special—yes, my friend—and she will be beautiful, strong in magic through your blood, though not strong enough to win the war." His eyes startled open, returned Albino's gaze. Holding up his hand with fingers splayed, he closed it into a fist. "Letrias would crush her in a heartbeat."

"As I told you," the dragon said. "She does not have it within herself to win the war, nor will the deed be executed by her own hand." He focused on the smaller egg. "She is not the one to bring down the wizard. She is a
means
of bringing about his end."

"How?" The shepherd held up his hand as soon as the question left his lips. He faced the egg and closed his eyes while replacing his hand on its surface. After a long moment, his countenance brightened. "There are subtle differences between this child and her siblings. Playful, vivacious even. A lover?"

Dipping his head in a slight bow, Albino rumbled satisfaction. "Among the six offspring I have created, she alone has the ability to bring about the salvation of humankind."

Withdrawing his hand, the shepherd looked up at the dragon. "I see no savior, no man able to turn the tide."

"That is because he is beyond your sight. The Creator will provide him when the time is right and I will know him. But he will come, nevertheless, and I will guide him into Subterran at a time I deem appropriate."

"Ah!" The shepherd smiled. "You plan to use the sword."

"Yes. It also is a tool to bring about Letrias's end."

A shadow passed through Patient's eyes. They half-closed. He seemed to listen to an inaudible voice, his head inclined toward his chest. Then he again stared at the egg. His voice dropped to almost a whisper. "Have you seen this, my friend? Have you seen the future?"

"Of what do you speak?"

"Death; I see death. There is a dark path down which she must walk. One out of which I see no light—Wait! I was mistaken."

The dragon pointed at the egg with his claw. "You see, don't you? You see with greater clarity?"

"She will be born of both races," the shepherd said in hushed tones. "And she will be gifted with physical beauty and fierce strength."

Albino led the shepherd down the hall for a little distance, then faced the wall. He turned right and then to his left, searching. But not a soul was in sight.

"Inner sanctum, open to me!" Immediately the wall turned to ice, the stones changed composition until they appeared semi-transparent and crystalline. Inclining his head, he indicated that Patient should proceed first. The shepherd stepped through the wall and it swallowed him out of sight, crackling behind him like a thawing cube of ice.

And Albino followed. The wall felt cool on his scales, but not frigid as one might have expected. His snout broke through the wall first, then his head slid free and he pulled his body into moist, warm air.

His muscles relaxed as he strode forward. The room he had entered was enormous, larger than any other in Shizar Palace . . . and more magnificent.

Beneath his feet spread a floor made from a sheet of glass thick enough to bear his weight without cracking. A gentle river of water flowed under the glass. It reached only a couple feet deep and a bed of innumerable sapphire jewels glowed with radiant, rich blue light through the water and into the room.

A gold altar rose from the center of the room on a pillar of gray stone. Encircling it stood a line of white dogwood trees. Engraved forms of children and women and men kneeling in prayer, graced the walls of the altar. The image of a winged dragon with head bowed in obeisance was etched into each of the four corners of the altar. Delicate white petals wafted down through the still air from the tree branches, covering the smooth floor.

Albino delicately moved forward.

Patient knelt before the altar and slid the hood off his head. And he remained silent for a time.

The familiar high, black walls surrounded them. A stairway of stones, nearly twenty feet broad, curved up from the floor, ascending to the palace roof.

Above him the ceiling was transparent. The clear blue sky could be seen through it, and a white cloud fled the wind.

"Albino," the shepherd said, rising to his feet and turning to look up at him, "my stay with you will be short. The flocks and herds of my mountains require my attention. In this season most of all."

Returning the man's gaze, Albino let a flame escape his nostril. "The birth of my children is paramount, Patient. Your flocks and herds can do without your attention for a short while. I want you to witness this event."

"And I do not want to miss it." Patient stepped away from the altar as a ray of sunlight angled through the ceiling and glared off the gold.

"But you wish to leave?" Albino narrowed his eyes. "Why, my friend?"

Stepping closer, Patient looked across the glass floor, his eyes seeming to follow the flow of the glowing water to the various plants growing along the walls.

"It is nothing problematic," the shepherd assured the dragon. "But I had to leave Corbaius and Melvin in charge during my absence. And . . . they have been at odds lately."

"I hope you are right." Albino looked down at the altar, feeling the sunlight warm his bony crest. Upon the altar's flat lid had been engraved: 'To the one and only God and Creator.'

"It is not always easy to discern the will of God, my friend. The powers I have been given must be used to further His will."

"And do you believe that your decision to create offspring, with the powers He's given you, falls within His will?"

"Yes." Albino growled. A wisp of smoke curled from between his razor teeth. "I will raise them in the fear and love of Creator God. They will walk in His commands." He let a long silence endure. "And evil will fear them as it fears me!"

The dragon's thoughts turned inward. He remembered the desecration Hermenuedis wrought upon a holy altar. A sacrifice of human blood made where a sacrifice of prayer had once been offered. Evil spirits spread their roots in that wizard's soul and made their dwelling in the temple he'd erected for his mistress.

"Let us pray that what you say
will
come to pass," the shepherd said.

"Come, my friend," the dragon said, his claws clicking on the glass floor as his four legs ate the distance to the room's wall. "I sense my children are preparing to arrive."

The black wall crystallized before him as he approached. He forced his head through the cool surface, buried his body in it, and emerged into Shizar Palace's main hallway.

A popping, cracking sound preceded Patient's staff into the hallway. Then he stepped out, materializing beside the dragon and smiled up at him. "Of this I have no doubt, my friend: that your children will walk in the light."

* * *

The tiniest cracks appeared in five of the dragon's eggs . . . all except for the smallest one. Albino coiled his bony tail around his body and backed against the wall. Cracks spidered across the eggs' shells and a red-haired maid hurried into the room with two blonds towering after her. The time had indeed come.

Standing next to the redhead, Patient leaned with both hands on his staff.

"Gwen, Helen!" The redhead combed her shoulder-length tresses away from her forehead and her green eyes darted up at the other maids. She jabbed her finger toward one of the eggs and hustled to it, a towel thrown over her arm. "This one is coming first. Be ready with the swaddling blankets."

"Yes, Mum!" the women answered in unison. Their bright blue eyes seemed to intently follow the redhead. They had long, gold hair that fell straight down their backs to their narrow waists.

"Elsie," Albino said to the redhead.

"Yes, my lord?" The middle-aged woman glanced over her shoulder at him. Her green eyes started to wander back to the eggs, drawn like magnets to the sounds of additional cracks forming.

The dragon pointed with his claw at the egg in front of her. "Pry away the shell so that the child may come forth."

Elsie tossed the towel over Helen's arm, and faced the egg. Gingerly, she pushed the fingers of both hands into one of the cracks and pulled.

Suddenly, the shell collapsed outward. Elsie, some of her weight resting on the shell, slipped on the floor. She fell on her back with a startled cry as blood and multicolored fluids rushed from the egg and covered her from her neck to her feet.

Helen and Gwen stood like statues. But Albino spotted a sac flow out of the broken eggshell and drop toward the marble floor. Helen and Gwen did not appear to notice. They gawked at Elsie as she lay on the floor.

Albino growled, thrust his mighty arm past them, and caught the sac in the palm of his clawed fist. It wobbled in his palm; wet, fragile, threatening to burst open. If it had been allowed to hit the marble—

Standing to her feet, dripping red and green-gray liquid, Elsie swallowed her embarrassment. "My lord, I am so sorry . . . I just . . . did not expect—"

"There is no need to apologize," he said, but he flared his nostrils at Helen and Gwen. They apologized profusely and bowed, backing away.

Albino reached out with his free foreleg, held one of his claws in front of his mouth and heated it with his breath until it glowed like an iron poker plucked from a furnace. Using this claw, he broke the sac, freeing the child inside.

"My lord!" Elsie's mouth opened wide. Her green eyes stared in disbelief.

Beside the dragon, the shepherd chuckled. "I dare say you have surprised your staff."

Elsie shook her head and reached out as the dragon cut the child's umbilical cord with the heated claw. "She . . . she is human! How is this possible?"

"Yes, they all are." Albino allowed Helen to take the child and swaddle it.

"A baby girl," Elsie said as soon as she recovered her senses. "Have you chosen a name for her, my lord?"

"This one?" The dragon looked down at the softly crying baby. "She is the eldest. I will name her Caritha, for she will lead her sisters in the days that follow their sorrow."

"The days of their sorrow?" Elsie might have asked more, but the dragon shook his head and looked at the other eggs.

"Ask for no explanations," he rumbled. "Bring her to the nursery, Helen. And return quickly. My children will not wait."

Helen rushed to carry out her master's bidding, all the while humming to baby Caritha and shushing her to sleep.

As soon as Helen's footsteps faded down the hallway, four more eggs started to hatch. The spidery cracks that had formed on their shells, now spread like webs, weakening the casing that had kept the dragon's offspring in darkness.

Elsie hurried to each egg and pulled the shell apart. Having learned from her first efforts, she kept her footing. Soon she and Gwen had their hands full, lifting the four new arrivals into the world.

The straw soaked up much of the liquids that burst from the eggs, but the hem of Elsie's skirt and her slippers were drenched.

Patient stepped forward as Gwen gathered up a second baby. He took the next one, wrapping it in a corner of his white robe.

After cutting each of the infants' from their sacs, and severing their umbilical cords, Albino held the last of the four arrivals in his palm.

"My goodness, they are all girls!" Elsie said.

"Yes," he rumbled softly. And he laughed as the child squirmed in his palm and screamed beyond reason. "You, my dear child, are alike in beauty to your sisters, yet you have an indomitable spirit . . . You will be called Rose'el."

Gazing at each of the other three infants in turn, he chose their names. One he called Laura. "You, my daughter," he said, "will achieve victory by supporting your sisters."