“We can see their boulders now,” the general argued angrily. “We won’t be such an easy target as that.”
“They won’t use boulders now, you imbecile. They’ll use rocks about the size of your fist, hundreds of them. You won’t be able to dodge them. Your shields will be smashed to pieces. Even the knights in full armor will be killed. This invasion would be over before the day is out.”
“I disagree,” the general began to argue, but those were his last words.
Without warning, the soldier, dressed in chain mail and a thick jerkin with a wide leather belt, burst into flames. He shrieked, but the fire consumed him so quickly that no one could help him.
“We do not need senseless bravado,” Offendorl said as the men around him stared at the burning corpse. “I have other plans, but until they come to fruition or until our forces from Baskla arrive, we stay here.”
“Begging your pardon, my lord,” said one of the other generals. “You don’t want to flank them. We could divide our forces and march around their position.”
“No, they will have thought of that, and I don’t want to play into their hands,” Offendorl replied. “Set up a defensive perimeter and send scouts to ensure they don’t move those trebuchets any closer.”
The generals all hurried away. Offendorl knew they were glad to have an excuse to get as far away from him as possible. The smell of the burned man was horrible, and he left the kings gawking at the corpse. He returned to his wagon; he was exhausted and needed to rest. He had a lot of work to do, work that would tax his ancient body. Transmutation was not something he did on a regular basis, and while he had the skill and more than enough power, he would need all of his strength.
He called for one of the servants while he lounged in his wagon.
“See that my tent is set up for King Belphan and King Zorlan, but not next to the wagon. I want some space from those sniveling potentates. And begin gathering lead. I need as much heavy metal as you can find. Bring it to me here and see that I am not disturbed.”
The servant bowed low and left the wagon. Offendorl leaned back and closed his eyes. He had instructed another servant to prepare him food and wine, but it would be a while before the meat was cooked. He would nap for a while, then eat, before working on the golden crown he was making to control the dragon.
Chapter 24
Brianna paced back and forth in the small confines of the cave. It wasn’t a true dragon lair; the beast had spotted it from the air as they flew over the southern range of mountains. But it was deep enough that the cold winds were held back. The dragon had carried Brianna carefully, letting its flaming breath roll back over her to keep her warm. For her part, Brianna held tightly to the beast. She wasn’t sure what their connection was, but she felt as though they were the same. She knew she wasn’t a dragon, but she also knew she was more than just a girl.
For days they had sheltered together in the cave. The dragon was wary, but open in its way. Brianna found that the dragon could talk, although its voice was sometimes difficult to understand. It was just as curious about what Brianna had become as she was. She had hoped at first that the dragon might be able to explain what she was becoming, but it had no knowledge of Fire Spirits. For her part, Brianna understood the dragon’s desire to be free. She could feel the beast’s uncertainty and its nagging desire to fly south to find the owner of the voice that was continually calling for it. Brianna had been able to calm the beast and allow it to rest. For days the nagging pain of its wounds had tormented the dragon. It had been able to sleep only in troubled fits. It had been in constant fear, which seemed odd to Brianna for such a large, powerful creature. It had no natural enemies, and yet Zollin’s constant pursuit and the wounds she herself had inflicted on the creature had created a sense of constant paranoia. Only now that she was with the dragon did it feel safe enough to rest.
They spent hours debating what the dragon should do. She knew that it had been moments from death when she went to it. Even if Zollin hadn’t been there to fight the dragon, it would have starved or succumbed to the infections from its wounds. She had healed the dragon’s body in the valley far to the north, but it took many days to heal its mind. Brianna wanted the dragon to stay in the mountains, but the nagging voice in the beast’s mind was slowly driving it mad.
It was gone at the moment. The dragon went out hunting at least once a day. It often brought back small portions of meat, which Brianna cooked simply by holding the raw meat in her hands. She was growing extremely tired of eating nothing but meat and longed for vegetables and fruit, but there was no way to get what she wanted without leaving the dragon.
She experimented every day with her power. At first she could conjure fire as if it were part of her body. The fire came out of her skin and didn’t burn, even though she could feel the heat. She wasn’t cold, even though they were high in the mountains where the temperature never got far above freezing. The heat from her fire, or from the dragon, felt luxurious to her, and since she had no clothes she often let the flames dance across her skin and cover her nakedness.
After a few days, she began to be able to control the fire, not just conjure it. She could move it just by thinking, intensify the heat until it was so hot it began to melt stone. And as her powers grew, so did a strange desire for offspring. She had heard women in Tranaugh Shire talk as they grew older about their intense desire for children and Brianna had always looked forward to being a mother, but this desire was different. She knew she wanted to have offspring, she just no longer thought of them as children. She didn’t know what it meant, but in her dreams she saw eggs formed from the most intense heat. There was no mating involved, no birth process in the traditional sense. Brianna imagined it more like forging offspring, of coaxing hatchlings from the heat. It was a mystery, but the desire grew day by day.
She was still pacing when she heard the telltale whoosh of the dragon’s wings. She felt a little better now that it had come back. She was afraid that it would abandon her, simply fly out for food and never return. Not that she couldn’t get down the mountain on her own: she couldn’t fly like the dragon, but the uncanny sense of lightness had grown stronger as her power did, and she now felt so light that it would take only a little effort to soar up into the sky and sail about on the wind.
The dragon landed gracefully at the mouth of the cave and folded its wings back flat against its body. It had a young goat in one talon. The animal was still alive, but clearly so frightened that it was in shock.
“You were gone a long time,” she said to the dragon. “I was afraid you weren’t coming back.”
The dragon eyed her balefully, but Brianna had come to recognize the look not as one of hate or distrust, but simply the dragon’s natural mannerism. She wondered if their ferocious appearance was what caused men to fear them, when it was possible to live in harmony together.
“I am leaving,” the beast hissed, its forked tongue whipping out of its mouth as it spoke.
“Why?” Brianna said. “You don’t have to go.”
“I must,” it said. “The voice is growing stronger.”
“I can keep you safe,” she said, still not sure why she said it.
“Then come with me,” it pleaded.
“No, you said yourself that wizards enslave dragons. I know that isn’t always true-Zollin would never do that-but whatever is calling you south can’t be good for you. Stay here. Fight it. I know you can.”
“No, I must go. It is no longer in my control.”
Brianna put her hands out and the dragon, hesitating for only a moment, thrust its head forward so that she could stroke its cheeks.