The Flames of Dragons (32 page)

Iren groaned as he came to. He lay on soft grass, the blades kissing his face as they waved in the breeze.

He tried to sit up, but his head swam. He reached back and felt a lump behind his left ear. Tears welled in his eyes. He’d hoped it had all been a bad dream.

With a great effort he attempted to sit again. This time he made it, though he teetered like a drunkard. Sure enough, there was no sign of Hana or the Yaryozaki.

Rondel lay next to him, still grinning. What Iren wouldn’t give to hear her speak one more time! To have her berate him or call him names or launch into some sarcastic tirade. She was probably giving his father all he could handle right now.

The thought made him smile, just a little.

“Exalted Emperor?” a voice asked from behind him. “How do you feel?”

Iren’s senses went on alert. He whirled around, but the movement was too much. He had to put a hand on the ground. He was helpless against whomever had shown up.

Strong hands grabbed him. Armored in layered steel, they held him upright.

Iren looked into the face of the man who steadied him. He had brown eyes and hard features under a well-crafted helmet.

It took Iren a moment, but then he remembered who the man was. “I met you before,” Iren said. “You were the samurai standing beside Melwar’s palanquin. You commanded his army. Your name was Daichi, right?”

Even though Daichi was kneeling, he bowed as best he could. The motion nearly sent both him and Iren sprawling on the grass. “I am honored you remember me, Exalted Emperor.”

Iren rolled his eyes. “At ease, Daichi. I’m in no shape to handle formality. I’m no good at it anyway.”

The samurai returned to his previous position but said nothing.

“What brings you here?” Iren asked when the silence became uncomfortable.

“We saw you fighting the dragon,” the samurai explained. “When we saw the Holy Dragoon, it removed any doubt from our minds. We knew for certain that you were our emperor, that you were Iren Saito reborn.”

Iren shook his head. “I’m not. I may be his son, but Iren Saito is someone I’ll never be.”

“Your humility is as honorable as your fighting prowess.”

Iren resisted the urge to roll his eyes again. “Anyway, why are you by yourself? What happened to the rest of Melwar’s army?”

Daichi sucked air through his teeth. “Exalted Emperor, the traitor’s army no longer exists.”

Iren’s eyes widened. “What are you saying?” he asked. He gripped Daichi’s arms. “Did Shadeen kill them?”

“Forgive my poor speech,” the samurai replied. “The men are all still alive. I left them where they stood so I could scope out the situation. What I meant to say is that it is no longer proper to refer to us as the traitor’s army. We follow the emperor. We are yours now.”

Iren put his hand to his head to fight off yet another dizzy spell. His plan had worked.

Now it was time to put that plan to good use. He pushed into a standing position, managing it only because Daichi continued to support most of his weight. “Daichi,” he said, “I have a command for you as your emperor. As of now, you and all Maantecs are no longer at war with humans. The traitor’s conquest was never in our people’s best interests. I’ll have no more killing.”

Daichi bowed his head. “I hear and obey, Exalted Emperor. I will spread the word to the men.” He sucked air through his teeth again. “Exalted Emperor, may I ask you a question?”

Iren was already tired of the “Exalted Emperor” nonsense. Just ask him! He sighed. “Please, Daichi, say what you will.”

“Our people cannot return to Shikari,” Daichi said. “Now that the traitor is dead, we have no way to calm the ocean storms. I will go where you command, but most of these men are not samurai. They were torn from their homes and farms. What will become of them if we surrender to the Lodians?”

All this time, Iren had wondered what kind of man Daichi was. The over-the-top honor and support could be tricks, ploys to convince Iren that Daichi was loyal when in fact he still believed in Melwar.

But the samurai’s question solidified Iren’s opinion of him. This man was a true leader, someone who put the needs of his subordinates ahead of his own. Had Daichi led the Maantecs instead of Melwar, this war never would have happened.

Iren couldn’t disappoint him. “Daichi, I wouldn’t abandon these men any more than you would. I’m their emperor. I’ll find a way to help them.”

What he left unsaid was that he had no idea what that way might be. The Lodians would never accept thousands of Lefts settling in their country.

While Iren was still puzzling out an answer, Daichi looked off toward the west. “Exalted Emperor, someone approaches.”

Iren turned to follow Daichi’s gaze. The moment he did, he felt both elated and dismayed.

It was Minawë.

“Daichi,” Iren said, “let me stand on my own.”

The samurai obeyed, and Iren, on his full weight for the first time since the battle, almost fell. He forced himself to keep upright. This wasn’t going to be pretty.

Minawë pounded toward them. When she arrived, she grabbed Iren by the shirt with both fists and roared in his face, “You crazy . . . stupid . . . lucky . . . moron!”

Daichi’s hand went to the katana at his waist, but Iren stopped him with a shake of his head. He deserved every name Minawë had just hurled at him.

He was about to speak when Minawë released him. She had caught sight of Rondel lying in the grass. She fell to her knees. “Mother!”

The sobs came loud and long. Minawë clutched Rondel to her chest, the tears soaking into her clothes. Iren had held back until now, but something about Minawë’s outburst cut through his shock and made it all real. He cried without restraint, caring not at all for the samurai watching him.

“How did she die?” Minawë finally asked, when the two had no more tears to give.

“Saving me,” Iren said.

“She sacrificed herself for you?”

“I won’t ask you to forgive me.”

Minawë stood. She shook her head and wiped her eyes. There was no anger in them. “Moron,” she repeated. Then she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him.

“Daichi,” Iren said when he could breathe again, “would you mind giving us a few minutes alone?”

Daichi bowed and stepped away. He put his back to them.

“Rondel told me how you wounded Shadeen,” Iren said. “I wish I could have seen it. You were amazing.”

A hint of pride flashed on Minawë’s face, but it soon disappeared. Her eyes drifted to Rondel. “I would have died after that attack if she hadn’t saved me. I can’t believe she’s gone. I’ve had to lose my mother twice.”

Iren loosed a long breath. “I know what you mean.”

Minawë released him. She eyed him quizzically.

In response to her look, Iren told her about Saito’s appearance. “I didn’t defeat Melwar,” he concluded. “Father did. Rondel did. They’re the heroes.”

“Moron, you did plenty. We both did. Besides, the most important task is still left. What are we going to do about Melwar’s army?”

“I was trying to figure that out when you arrived. I have no idea. They can’t stay here, and they can’t return to Shikari.”

Minawë thought for a moment. Then her expression brightened. “What about Serona?”

“Serona?” Iren asked. “It’s torn apart.”

“Don’t you remember? Mother mentioned it before she fought Melwar. She said she’d been there and stopped the fires. The land will grow again. The Maantecs can move there. If they want to return to Shikari, they can use the western ocean. That’s how they traveled in ancient times.”

Iren put a hand to his chin. It could work.

From across the field came the sound of sniffling. Iren hadn’t realized Daichi was within earshot. “Daichi, are you all right?” he asked.

The samurai turned around. He was choked up, but even at this distance Iren could see the man’s wishful smile. “Serona,” Daichi said. “I’ve dreamed about it for so long. Is it really possible we could return?”

Iren nodded. “It is,” he said, “and as the Maantec emperor, I’d be happy to lead you there.”

Twelve years later

“My liege, this is not the sort of establishment a king should enter.”

King Dirio Cyneric of Lodia had to agree with his bodyguard. The building before him was a dismal heap. Even calling it a building was a compliment. It only had walls up to about four feet. Above that they changed to an open reed mesh and a straw roof.

Ostensibly the mesh’s purpose was so patrons could smell the salty tang of the bay not twenty feet from the restaurant. In reality, Dirio suspected it was so the stench of sweat and alcohol inside could blow away in the sea breeze.

On any other day Dirio would have avoided the restaurant even at noontime, let alone late in the evening like it was now. Today though, he had no choice but to come here. Rumor had it this was the place where the man Dirio needed to find was most likely to be.

Dirio grasped the rusty handle and pulled open the door. He coughed the moment he did. He’d been wrong. The mesh’s purpose clearly wasn’t to get rid of the smell.

Suppressing the urge to gag, Dirio entered the restaurant. The place was body-to-body. Dirio’s two guards took up positions in front of and behind him. Even with their armor and swords, they had a hard time pushing through the throng.

There was one exception to the press of humanity. In the back corner sat a family of three, and everyone in the building gave them a wide berth.

It wasn’t the family itself that caused the other patrons to avoid them. It was the man standing, arms crossed, in front of their table. He wore armor of layered steel, and on his back he carried a seven-foot sword. Its pommel was an inch away from the ceiling; the man must have needed to duck to fit through the doorway.

Dirio’s guards walked up to the man, and as they did the man’s left hand reached up and rubbed his shoulder. It wasn’t an aggressive move, but it was still an obvious signal. The man could draw that massive sword whenever he wanted, and nothing would get in his way if he did.

Fortunately, that wouldn’t be necessary. “Good evening,” Dirio said. “I’d like to speak with your lord, if you please.”

From behind the armored swordsman came the sound of hammers bashing on the table.
Wham! Wham! Crack!

The hammers stopped. A girl’s head popped out around the swordsman’s waist. She looked about eight. Her hair was dark brown and uncombed, and her emerald eyes were wide with curiosity. “Who is it, Mr. Daichi?”

Was it Dirio’s imagination, or did the intimidating warrior smile just a hair? “Some guests, Princess,” the man said. “Exalted Emperor, I’m sorry to interrupt—”

“You follow everything I say to the letter, Daichi, except that,” a male voice said from behind the bodyguard. “You don’t need to call me that, especially in public.”

Dirio laughed. “If you wanted to travel incognito, Iren, you should have chosen a subtler guard.”

“Address his—”

“It’s all right,” the voice behind the bodyguard interrupted. “This man’s a friend and an equal. Let him by. There’s plenty of room, and there are more than enough crabs.”

Daichi stepped aside, and Dirio at last saw the object of his search. Emperor Iren Saitosan and Queen Minawë sat at a corner booth with a steamer bucket of crabs between them. The detritus of a dozen of the crustraceans lay strewn about. Bits of shell speckled both rulers.

Dirio slid in next to Minawë and across from Iren. “I’m glad I tracked you down,” Dirio said.

Iren passed a wooden mallet across the table to Dirio. “Dig in,” he said. “This is the best place in Ceere. It was legendary even before I left Haldessa.”

Dirio looked from the hammer to Iren. “I’m not hungry.”

“You don’t eat crabs to get full,” Iren replied. “You eat them for the experience. That’s why you come to a place like this.” He paused, and a wry smile blossomed on his lips. “More important, they keep Kaede busy. If her hands are tearing up crabs, then they aren’t getting her into trouble.”

The Lodian king eyed the eight-year-old girl sitting next to Iren. She didn’t have a mallet, but that wasn’t stopping her. She pulled apart her crab with reckless abandon, and she was even more shell-covered than her parents. Dirio spied several pieces wedged in her hair.

“She reminds me of her grandmother,” Dirio laughed. “I’m surprised you didn’t name her Rondel.”

Iren shrugged. “I wanted to, but Minawë liked Kaede better. It suits her. In Maantec, it means ‘maple.’”

“Something about it sounded right,” Minawë said.

“In any case, giving her the name of the Maantecs’ greatest traitor would have made for a rough life,” Iren added. “We had to bury Rondel in the Kodamas’ graveyard just so we wouldn’t have to worry about Maantecs desecrating it.”

“Something tells me she’d be happier there anyway,” Dirio said.

Minawë nodded. “I like to think so.”

Iren, Minawë, and Kaede started on another round of crabs, and for a while they ate in silence. Dirio watched them, a lump forming in his throat. He knew what he needed to say. These were his friends. He could tell them anything. Why was he hesitating?

Maybe he could ease his way into it. “This is the first time you’ve returned to Lodia since you defeated Melwar,” he said. “I wish I could have seen you sooner.”

Iren sucked the meat out of a claw. “Well, there’s a lot to do. Serona might not be bursting with flames anymore, but nothing’s grown there for a thousand years. Just getting the basics going has taken most of my time. There’s also the matter of Shikari. The people there didn’t see my Dragoon transformation, so they weren’t as keen to accept me as Maantec emperor.”

“I take it that means you still can’t use magic.”

“Nope. Neither can Minawë. Apart from Shikari it hasn’t been an issue. Down there though, it took Daichi and three thousand soldiers to restore order.”

“It came in handy that the Sky Dragon Sword accepted him,” Minawë put in.

“When he helped me after the battle with Melwar, I had a feeling Ariok would take a liking to him,” Iren said. “He’s been a fine choice to put in charge of Shikari.”

Dirio looked at the bodyguard. The back of the man’s neck was red, though with pride or embarrassment Dirio couldn’t be sure.

“Is he the only Dragon Knight left?” Dirio asked Iren.

“The only one who can use magic. The Liryometa’s hidden for now. To be honest, I hope it can stay that way.”

“That sounds like a poor choice,” Dirio said. “Considering how powerful Rondel was, a Storm Dragon Knight would have been a big help in retaking Shikari.”

Iren shook his head. “I’ve spent enough time with Divinion to change how I see the dragons. They aren’t weapons. They’re living, thinking creatures like us. This will sound strange, but after we quelled the unrest in Shikari, I spent some time in Melwar’s archives. The ancient Maantecs had far more knowledge than I ever imagined. I thought I might discover a way to free the dragons.”

Dirio rocked back in the booth. “After the destruction Feng and Shadeen caused? Are you crazy?”

“I don’t want to free their magic, just them. Divinion often cast aside his power and adopted the form of an old man when I talked to him. I can still talk to him when I meditate, and Minawë can do the same with Dendryl. They think it might be possible.”

“What else are you learning from Melwar’s archives?” Dirio asked. “Are you seeking another way to regain your magic?”

Iren blushed. “I looked for information about that a little, but in truth I don’t really care about it anymore. We have bigger challenges. Chief among them is Melwar’s curse on the Kodamas. I cured Minawë of it, so I’m sure there’s a way to reverse it for the rest of her people too.”

“We’re getting close on that one,” Minawë said with a grin. “A few more years, and you’ll have Kodamas as well as Maantecs visiting you on trade missions.”

Dirio returned the queen’s expression. “I look forward to it. So is that why you’ve returned to Lodia? For a trade mission?”

“That’s right,” Iren said. “I was thinking about how before Amroth, the previous Lodian kings maintained peace in the country through trade. The Maantecs have a lot to answer for, and we won’t heal the rifts between Maantecs, Kodamas, and humans any time soon. If we’re lucky, it will be the work of decades. More likely it will take centuries, and I’m sure there will be some among each race who will fight the change. Even so, I think trade between our peoples is the first step to overcoming that resistance. Minawë and I have come up with an agreement that will govern trade between Maantecs and Kodamas. Now I want to go further. It’s my hope that people in Shikari will soon be able to bring their goods up Raa’s west coast and trade with Serona, Ziorsecth, and Lodia without braving the eastern ocean’s storms.” He gestured to his bodyguard. “When I told Daichi my plan, he asked to come along when we visited Lodia. I could hardly refuse.”

“You’re like your father in one way at least,” Dirio said. “You’re ambitious. But if you wanted to set up relations with Lodia, why did you come to this dive? Why didn’t you come to Haldessa to see me?”

“We were going to,” Minawë said, looking askance at her husband. “Iren insisted we come here first.”

“For the food,” Kaede interjected as she slurped down a piece of fin meat.

Iren gave his daughter a loving smile. “All right, the food was part of it. But what really motivated me was that I wanted to see what condition Ceere was in. Amroth used it as a staging area for his army, and Melwar’s forces made landfall here. Between the two, I feared it might not have recovered. Now that I’m here, I see my fear was misplaced. This place looks better than it did when I lived in Haldessa.”

“You can thank Elyssa for that,” Dirio said. “When Shadeen destroyed Kataile, the citizens decided to move here instead. They and the Ceere survivors kept Elyssa as mayor, and it was the best decision they could have made. She’s a better administrator than I could ever be.”

“It’s good that so many of her people came to Tropos to attend Balear’s funeral,” Iren put in. “It saved them all.”

“Still, for Kataile to be so destroyed they couldn’t even rebuild, it’s terrible,” Minawë said. “Did anything escape Shadeen’s blast?”

Dirio nodded. “Actually, that’s part of the reason I came to find you. I have something for you, Iren.” He motioned for one of his bodyguards to approach. From the guard’s pack, Dirio withdrew a scroll. He put out his hand to give it to Iren, but when the emperor reached for it, Dirio pulled it back.

“Clean up first,” Dirio said.

Iren’s brow furrowed. “What? Oh, right.” He wiped his hands on a napkin and showed them to Dirio. “Good enough?”

“I swear, emperor or not, you’re still the same.”

“I tell him that at every opportunity,” Minawë said with a wink.

Iren reddened. He pulled the scroll from Dirio’s hand and buried himself in it. “So what is this?” he asked.

“Elyssa gave me that at Balear’s funeral. She’d meant to give it to him, but, well, other circumstances interfered. It’s a letter Balio wrote after he abandoned Tropos. It was for his son. Balio was illiterate, so he asked Elyssa to record what he said. When I read it, I knew I should give it to you.”

Iren’s eyes reached the bottom of the scroll. His head whipped up. “Is this for real?”

“Elyssa penned it herself. I have no reason to doubt it.”

Minawë raised her green eyebrows. “What’s it say?”

Iren handed her the scroll. “I never would have guessed,” she said when she finished reading, “but now that I’ve seen this, it makes sense. You two were so alike.”

“Are you joking?” Iren asked. “We couldn’t have been more different. That guy was a troublemaker.”

“Point proved,” Minawë laughed.

Iren’s ears reddened again. Dirio joined Minawë in her laughter.

“So Balear and I were cousins?” Iren asked when the fit subsided.

“Balio’s sister was your mother, Carita. After she was murdered, Balio couldn’t forgive the town that had abandoned her. Carita’s death broke him, but even in despair, he never forgot his son.”

Iren stared at the scroll in Minawë’s hands. The crabs sat in the steamer pot, forgotten.

“There’s something else,” Dirio said. “If it were just that scroll, I might have waited, but there’s a bigger issue that demanded I speak with you. Had you not been in Lodia, I would have risked a journey to Serona to find you.”

That peaked Iren’s interest. He sat back in the booth and folded his arms. “What could be that important?”

Dirio swallowed hard. “Just as Elyssa has spent the past twelve years rebuilding Ceere, I’ve been doing the same to Haldessa. Six months ago a team of workers found a vault in the castle. It had been buried in rubble since Amroth destroyed the place. When the men opened the vault, they found a hoard of old documents.”

“How come they weren’t destroyed by Amroth’s flames?” Iren asked.

“The vault was protected by a long corridor of stone. Like your room in the Tower of Divinion, it avoided the fires. If King Azuluu had been in that vault when Amroth attacked, he likely would have survived.”

“But what’s so important for us about these documents?” Minawë asked. “Do they date back to the Kodama-Maantec War or something?”