The Flames of Dragons (28 page)

“She what?” Minawë yelled.

Iren winced and did his best to hide behind the unkempt plants in his parents’ abandoned field. He’d expected this conversation to go poorly. So far he’d underestimated just how poorly.

Minawë waved her hands at him. “How could she leave at the last minute like that? Did she say where she was going?”

“No,” Iren replied, “but she said it would help us defeat Melwar.”

He’d hoped Rondel would come back before Minawë learned the old hag had left. No chance. Rondel had only been gone a day, and despite the crowds, Minawë had figured out the undersized Maantec was missing.

And of course it was Iren’s fault. It had taken him the better part of an hour to convince Minawë that he and Rondel hadn’t fought to the death behind her back. Now he was just getting to explain what had really happened that night at his parents’ graves. “You and I both know Rondel doesn’t do things without a purpose,” he told Minawë. “If she said it’s important, it’s important.”

Minawë crossed both arms and said nothing.

“Besides,” Iren continued, “we’re taking the fight to Melwar this time. Rondel said two days. She’ll be back tomorrow. Melwar can wait until then.”

With a huff, Minawë left Iren and started back toward Tropos. Over her shoulder she said, “Moron.”

Iren’s eyes crinkled, and he half-smiled. The taunt was a word of endearment between them, one Iren hadn’t heard Minawë say since he’d left Ziorsecth Forest more than a year ago. As frustrated as Minawë was with him, the word was a sign she was glad Iren and Rondel had put their fight behind them.

Still, he understood why Minawë was worried. If Melwar attacked while Rondel was away, fending him off would be next to impossible.

For his part, though, Iren wasn’t concerned. He knew Melwar better than Minawë did. The self-proclaimed shogun wasn’t a leader like Amroth, Balear, or Father. Those men knew they had to stand in the front and inspire their men. Melwar led from behind. He had never shown a tendency to take action himself, not when he could rely on others to fight for him. He was a noble, not a soldier. With Hana gone and the Maantec army in retreat, Melwar would take his time in responding. One more day wouldn’t make a difference.

Iren walked from his parents’ field back to the ruined farmhouse. The ivy that covered it glimmered in the afternoon sun.

Maybe, when all this was over, he would rebuild it. He would have to tear this one down and start over, but it would be worth it.

He sat on the porch where his mother had held him long ago. The simple home really did have a beautiful view. It was too far and faced the wrong direction to see the ocean, but the open fields were like an ocean unto themselves, a waving green and gold sea that seemed to stretch forever.

The crashing of hooves on the other side of the house pulled Iren from his thoughts. He stood, and a moment later Dirio arrived on horseback.

“Congratulations, Dirio,” Iren said. “Rumor has it you’re the new king of Lodia.”

Dirio blushed and grimaced at the same time. “Word travels too quickly. Anyway, I might not have a chance to lead this country. The Maantec army is on the move again.”

Now it was Iren’s turn to grimace. So much for knowing Melwar. The shogun was done waiting.

“Where are they headed?” Iren asked. “All the cities are undefended. Melwar could take any of them.”

Dirio’s frown deepened. “That’s why I came looking for you. According to Horace’s scouts, they’re coming here.”

“Here?”

“They must have seen all the people gathered for Balear’s funeral and assumed it was a strike force. They’re coming to meet us on the open field.”

At last Iren understood. “Melwar knows his army has the upper hand,” he said, “but he still doesn’t want to risk any more men than he has to. If we holed up in one of the cities, we would do a lot more damage before he broke us. Out in the open, though, we’re exposed. We have women and children here. It will be a slaughter.”

“My thoughts exactly. So how do we respond?”

Iren put his hand on his chin. “How much time do we have?”

“The scouts reported that the Maantecs are all on foot. Apparently they didn’t bring cavalry on their ships. They also don’t have siege equipment. They move faster than humans, but with so many of them I’d guess we have six hours until they arrive.”

What should they do? Iren paced the porch as he thought. They could stay and fight, but there were at least as many civilians as soldiers gathered here. The Maantecs would overwhelm them.

They could withdraw to Kataile, but the Maantec army would likely catch them before they reached the city. Even if they made it, Melwar’s upper echelons included mages. The Katailan forces had described jets of flame that reduced incoming arrows to nothing. If Melwar used his mages for attack rather than defense, they could bring down a city wall more quickly than a catapult barrage.

Iren wished Rondel were here. Considering that a few weeks ago he’d wanted to kill her, it amazed him that the desire came so readily. But they needed her now more than ever. She’d known Melwar since they were children. She understood him better than anyone else. More to the point, she was the best tactician Iren had ever met, and she had experience leading Maantec armies.

He needed to think like her. How would Rondel counter Melwar?

Iren looked across the fields toward the spot where his parents rested. Last night’s memories played in his head. He and Rondel had knelt there together. The words she’d spoken returned to him: “As for Melwar, you can stop him. I know you can. You don’t need my help.”

Rondel was fond of frivolous and sarcastic comments, but when she was serious, she didn’t spare anyone. She’d said those words to give Iren permission to kill her. She’d meant them all.

He made up his mind. “Dirio, I need to borrow your horse.”

Dirio’s brow lowered. “You have that look that says you’re about to do something crazy.”

“I’m going to stop Melwar myself,” Iren said. “In the meantime, take everyone and head for Kataile. If I fail, it will be your last chance.”

“Hold on,” Dirio said. “Even if you defeat Melwar, what will you do about the nine thousand troops he has with him?”

“I won’t have to fight them. I have an idea.”

Dirio put a hand to his head. “I hate this plan.”

“You asked for my suggestion. Now let me use your horse.”

The new king sighed, but he dismounted. “Otto gave me his horse as a sign of friendship,” Dirio said. “He’ll be incredibly upset if I lose her.”

Iren leapt up on the roan. He nodded. “I understand. I’ll bring her back alive.”

He took a few hesitant steps; it had been more than a year since his last time on a horse. When he felt confident of the animal’s gait, Iren looked over his shoulder. “One more thing,” he said. “Tell Minawë not to follow me.”

Dirio blanched. “I passed her on my way here. Tell you what. Why don’t you go talk to her, and I’ll ride out and fight Melwar? Suddenly that seems like the easier task.”

Iren smirked. “The king always gets the hardest job. It’s part of leadership. Later!” He took off.

It was the stupidest thing he had ever done, and he had plenty of those to rank it against. All the same, he felt not the slightest doubt. Rondel believed in him. That was enough.

*   *   *

Minawë grabbed Dirio by the lapels. “Are you insane?” she shouted. “You let him go?”

What was wrong with everybody lately? First Iren had let Rondel disappear to the dragons knew where, and now Dirio had handed over his horse so Iren could charge alone against Melwar’s army. Since when had Minawë needed to be everyone’s voice of reason?

She released Dirio. It wasn’t his fault. It was Iren’s. He had changed a lot in two years, but deep down, despite everything he’d gone through, Iren Saitosan was still the same headstrong, self-sacrificing boy he’d been when Minawë had first met him in Akaku.

That was why she loved him. That was why she changed into a horse and ran after him.

Iren rode across Lodia’s open fields. It took him less than an hour to spot Melwar’s army on the horizon. It filled the land, an endless expanse of armor and weapons. The force had a single purpose: to take the world for Maantecs.

But while that was the army’s objective, it wasn’t the reason nine thousand men had come here. Melwar was their shogun. He commanded them, so they obeyed. That was how Maantec society worked. The lower classes obeyed the upper classes. There was no thought among that army of dissenting with Melwar, even if many of them—probably most of them—would rather be back on their farms.

Iren was counting on that loyalty. It was Lodia’s only chance for survival.

Melwar was easy to spot. Four Maantecs carried a palanquin at the head of the column. Even with the limited space his ships had allowed him, Melwar had found room for it. He wasn’t about to dirty his feet on human-trod soil any more than he had to.

Iren rode up to the palanquin. A call rang out and spread across the army. The men stopped. A soldier in lamellar armor stepped forward and drew his katana.

Iren leapt off his borrowed horse and pulled out his own weapon. The advancing soldier stopped midstride. A moment ago he’d been set to cut down this peasant for daring to interrupt them. Now he was caught in dishonor. Every Maantec knew Iren’s sword.

“Tell me your name,” Iren said. He tried to make his voice as confident as he could. The soldiers needed to be impressed with him, and more important, Melwar needed to know who was out here.

“I am Daichi Kui, commander of this army.”

“Then you are its leader?”

Daichi bowed. That was something. He still had his katana out though. “I am not,” he said. “I serve Shogun Melwar.”

“I see,” Iren replied. “I confess myself disappointed in you, Daichi. Have you so little honor that you would follow a shogun when your emperor stands before you?”

Daichi looked up while keeping his body inclined. His eyes widened. His gaze settled on Iren’s sword, then his hair, and then at last on his sky blue eyes. “Emperor Saito?” he murmured.

The palanquin’s folds flew open. Melwar stepped out, dressed in a plum-colored shirt with the symbol of a mountain on its back. “Why have we stopped?” he demanded, though Iren knew the Maantec lord had heard everything.

“Hello, Katashi,” Iren said. He didn’t bow at all. The soldiers within earshot gasped. No one referred to Melwar by his first name. It was unforgivable to address a man of his station so loosely.

Melwar stared at Iren with wrath. “What is this pest, Daichi? Why have you not slain him?”

Daichi went to the ground. “Shogun, he has the Muryozaki. He claims to be the Maantec emperor.”

“Emperor Saito is dead,” Melwar said. “The traitor Rondel Thara murdered him.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Iren cut in. “I’m the Holy Dragon Knight, and by tradition the Holy Dragon Knight is also the Maantec emperor.”

Melwar’s eyes were slits. “Only because the Muryozaki was passed down through the royal Saito bloodline, a bloodline that ended with the emperor’s death. Whoever carries that sword now is just another Dragon Knight, not someone worthy of being the emperor.”

“I don’t know if I’m worthy or not, but I do know this.” Iren held up the Muryozaki so as many men in Melwar’s army could see it as possible. He put all his effort into making his voice carry across the fields. “Emperor Saito’s bloodline has not died out! It carries on in me. My name is Akio Saito! I am Iren Saito’s son! I am the Holy Dragon Knight, and I am the rightful Maantec emperor!”

Melwar scoffed. “Anyone can make such claims. That does not make them true. Daichi! This man has sinned against all Maantecs by besmirching the name of our exalted emperor. Regain our people’s honor and kill him at once!”

Daichi stood and raised his sword. He stepped toward Iren.

That was far enough. Iren loosed a torrent of magic. White light swirled around him, lifting higher and higher into the air. Iren wanted every soldier, even those in the back of the army, to see it.

“Will you kill your emperor, Daichi?” Iren asked. “Will you murder Iren Saito’s son?”

Daichi looked from Iren to Melwar and back again. His head kept swapping between them. On the one hand, Melwar was a known quantity. On the other, Iren’s claim, while unproven, put Iren on top. If Daichi attacked, he risked eternal dishonor by striking the emperor. If he held, he risked equal dishonor by refusing the shogun. He had no good move.

That was why Iren made one instead. He ended his spell and looked at Melwar. “Katashi, you and I know each other. I know what you want here. You also know I have no proof that I’m Iren Saito’s son. That’s why I propose a duel of champions. Let our fight settle this war and leadership of the Maantecs.”

The faintest smile crossed Melwar’s lips. “I should not sully myself on a commoner,” he said, “but if it will demonstrate my authority, I will accept. Daichi, hold the men here. When I slay this fool, bring them forward. We will annihilate the humans forever.”

Daichi, clearly glad to have the decision taken out of his hands, bowed to both Iren and Melwar and retreated back to the army’s main line. Iren and Melwar walked together away from the army to give themselves plenty of room.

“You know, Iren,” Melwar said when they had gone far enough that they couldn’t see the army anymore, “there was a time when I believed you would lead the restoration of our people. To think you now stand so firmly against it. I must admit my disappointment.”

“There was a time when I believed in you as well,” Iren replied. “How childish that feeling seems now.”

“Hate me if you want, but I am doing what you should have done. I am acting in the best interests of our people, the people you just claimed to rule. What do you suppose would result if you were to win this contest? Humans would go on hating Maantecs. We would go on having barely enough hardscrabble land to survive. I am giving our people what they deserve. You would sentence them to endless punishment.”

“Never,” Iren said. “I was able to find friendship among humans and Kodamas. If someone like me can do it, why can’t the rest of them?”

Melwar scoffed. “Because they have pride and honor where you have none.”

“If pride and honor compel you to commit genocide, then perhaps we’re better off without them. Or more likely, you have no idea what those words really mean.”

“You intend to debate semantics with me?”

“Not at all. There’s nothing left to debate.”

“Yes, I agree.”

Melwar stopped walking. He reached for his hip, where no solid weapon sat. A shadow billowed around his hand, and he revealed a shifting, smoking blade.

Iren drew the Muryozaki. He’d battled Melwar before in sparring sessions in Hiabi. The noble was a master swordsman. More problematic, he excelled at No Mind, a fighting style that sacrificed conscious thought in exchange for instantaneous reactions. Rondel could have bested it by planning her moves in advance and tricking Melwar’s instinctual mind, but Iren wasn’t that skilled a tactician. If Melwar used No Mind, Iren wasn’t sure he could overcome it.

But Melwar wouldn’t use No Mind. He’d taught it to Iren, and Iren could enter the trance-like state even faster than Melwar could. In this life-or-death battle, it was too risky a strategy for the cautious shogun.

That left only the conclusion that Melwar would rely on his shadow magic. The noble had used those abilities in a practice bout with Iren the night they’d met, and that match had ended with Iren helpless before Melwar’s blade. He couldn’t let that happen this time.

A screeching neigh stopped the battle before it began. Melwar and Iren both faced the sound. A riderless horse galloped toward them. Iren thought for a moment that it was the one Dirio had given him, but the roan was back with Daichi. This one was different.

The animal charged straight for Iren. He groaned. He knew who it was.

The horse shrank and rose up on two legs as it transformed into Minawë. When her green hair emerged, Melwar curled his upper lip in a sneer. “Kodama,” he spat. “You must be the one who hid like a coward while attacking my ships.”

Minawë ignored the shogun. She jabbed a finger into Iren’s chest. “What are you doing?” she asked. “I thought we were going to face him as a team.”

“This is the only way, Minawë,” Iren said. “Even if we worked together to defeat him, it would hold no meaning. He has nine thousand Maantecs under his command. We can’t overcome them all. I’m fighting him for leadership of the Maantecs. I’ll win them over as the Maantec emperor.”

Minawë balled her hands into fists. “You are the most selfish moron I have ever met!”

There was a time when he would have argued with her. Today he simply looked her in the eye, smiled sadly, and said, “I know.”

She stepped back. The challenge in her expression was gone. Fear—and maybe a little admiration—replaced it. “You don’t have to do this,” she said. “I would have fought alongside you to the end.”

Iren nodded. “I love you.”

Minawë’s face colored. She looked at the ground a moment. Then she raised her eyes and grinned. “I love you too. Now get out there and win, moron.”

The right side of Iren’s mouth lifted. “Right.” He faced Melwar. “Ready?”

Melwar shrugged. “You seem to be the distracted one.”

“Not anymore.”

The Maantecs squared off. Minawë retreated to a safe distance, but she didn’t return to Tropos. Whatever the outcome, she would stay and witness it.

Melwar’s sword twisted and seethed as the pair traced a large circle. The shogun had used that weapon against Iren in their practice match. He’d combined it with shadow magic to make both sword and swordsman as insubstantial as smoke—a Shadow Form. Iren had passed right through Melwar, nearly getting decapitated in the process.

That had to be Melwar’s plan. He would use Shadow Form to lure Iren in, avoid his strikes, and then counter when Iren was exposed. That’s why Melwar wasn’t attacking.

If Melwar wanted to fight that way, so be it. Shadow Form had to require magic to maintain, so the shogun wouldn’t use it unless he felt threatened. At this distance, with the two of them not yet trading blows, he was probably solid. A fast ranged attack, launched before Melwar cast his spell, could end the fight in one blow.

Iren channeled magic into his right index finger. It was the fastest technique he had, and while it lacked the strength to kill, it could knock Melwar down. It might even knock him unconscious if it struck him in the head.

Iren’s hand flashed up, and the shot lanced out. More than a hundred feet separated Iren and Melwar, yet the beam crossed the space in less than a second.

The shot passed cleanly through the Maantec lord. Melwar smiled.

Iren’s brow furrowed. Had Melwar been keeping Shadow Form active the whole time? It seemed unlikely. Melwar wasn’t the type to waste magic, especially when he knew Iren had large magical reserves. In a battle of endurance, needless spells in the early stages would guarantee defeat.

So how had Melwar done it?

The shogun didn’t wait for Iren to figure it out. Melwar put his hand out in front of him, palm up, and a long, slender knife appeared in midair above it. The knife was black and without thickness; Iren could only see it because it was at a slight angle to him.

The Shadow Knife launched at Iren, spiraling end over end. Iren easily avoided it, but as he circled Melwar, he saw the knife wheel around and head back for him. Melwar created four more knives, and they all spun toward Iren.

Iren grimaced. Those blades were meant to keep him at a distance. His beam attack had been too slow after all. A second was plenty of time for a master swordsman like Melwar to react to a spell and cast one of his own. Iren would need to close with Melwar in order to attack him.

Using magic to boost his speed, Iren flashed toward the shogun. The Shadow Knives couldn’t keep up with him, and he got inside Melwar’s guard. The Muryozaki danced as Iren sent a dozen slashes through all parts of Melwar’s body.

None of them landed. They all passed harmlessly through Shadow Form.

The knives approached. Iren dodged four of them, but the last one cut a thin line across his arm. The Muryozaki healed the wound, but the distraction was enough for Melwar to make an attack of his own. His sword stabbed out, and Iren blocked it.

The shifting blade, though, passed through Iren’s guard. He ducked just in time to avoid a beheading.

This was his chance! Melwar must have become solid to make his attack. From his dropped position, Iren fired another quick beam from his index finger. It struck Melwar in the stomach, and the Maantec lord doubled over. Iren swung the Muryozaki at Melwar’s left arm to end the fight.

His blade passed through without resistance. Melwar stepped back. He didn’t look in pain.

While Iren was staring at Melwar, the knives spun back around. One pierced him in the shoulder. He cursed instinctively, but then he realized there was no pain.

Realization dawned. Shadow Form made Melwar immune to attack, but it worked the other way too. Melwar couldn’t affect the world while the spell was active. Even for ranged attacks, he needed to end Shadow Form for them to work.