The two mobs of savages were indistinguishable from each other. Their brief leather loincloths were virtually the same colour as their skin and all were impartially plastered with crude designs in pale paint, swirls and spirals and palm prints. All had their hair caked in mud, some decorated with feathers or leaves. None boasted the gaudy cloaks or brightly coloured garlands that the savages’ mages usually affected.
Is it just the knowledge that their enemy’s wizard can rust the very weapons in their hands that keeps these people from using metal to offer and receive a cleaner death? Or do these wild mages choose to keep them in such barbarism, all the better to rule them?
Sickened, Kheda watched an uneven fight turn into a massacre. The rough and ready weapons were brutally effective. Men disappeared into the sea, some with screams cut short by the smothering water, others stunned and silent, not a hand outstretched to save themselves. Bodies washed up against those who had nearly reached the shore. There was fighting on the waterline now, desperate attackers swinging murderous clubs against new foes racing out of the forest with blood-curdling cries.
No sign of magic,’ Kheda said with hollow relief. Precious little sign of tactics, either.’
‘Why do you suppose they’re gathering up the bodies?’ Dev squinted across the bright water.
A noise behind them sent both men reaching for a sword, hearts whipping round, ready to spring to their feet.
‘I found some setil melons by a little stream.’ Risala had halted a prudent distance back. She displayed the warty green globes in the lap of her tunic. What’s going on?”‘
‘They’re killing each other.’ Kheda took a melon and, slicing off the top, scooped yellow seeds out of the vivid red flesh with his knife.
‘This lot’s doing most of the killing.’ The wizard also took a melon and cut himself a hunk, spitting the seeds out as he chewed.
‘Are they killing them or taking them prisoner?’ Risala sat in the cover of the scrubby shoreline trees. ‘Is there a stockade for captives?’
‘Hard to say’ The melon’s aromatic tartness quenched Kheda’s thirst astonishingly fast. He waved away tiny black flies that had appeared from nowhere.
‘They didn’t dig any ditch or plant a palisade.’ Dev bared his teeth to scrape the last flesh from the melon skin.
Kheda sucked on another piece of melon as he watched the triumphant savages sweep the debris of the battle back towards their own shore, bodies and log boats alike mere bobbing brown shapes. A few of the defeated wild men staggered to their feet in the shallows, only to be felled with lethal thrusts of wooden spears.
‘They don’t seem overly concerned with keeping them alive,’ Risala observed with distaste. Dev snapped his fingers at her. ‘Give me a melon, a whole one.’
Risala tossed him a knobbly green fruit without comment.
‘What are you doing?’ Kheda watched the wizard slice off the top and scoop out the seeds, staring intently into the hollow.
‘If there’s no wizard, then there’s no one to tell them they’re being scried on.’ He shrugged. ‘If there is, then that’s one question answered at least and we can make a run for it.’ He broke off as he saw something in the juice.
‘What is it?’ Kheda pressed close to the mage to get a look at the spell.
‘See for yourself.’ Dev swatted at the greedy flies obscuring his view.
Kheda peered into the melon to see the victorious savages piling bodies in a crude heap. Some were plainly dead, hearts distorted with wounds, shattered bone and grey ooze pale against their dark, matted hair. Others still struggled feebly, gasping for air that shattered chests could no longer supply, spitting bloody foam as broken ribs tore their innards. Wooden spears jutted from pierced bellies and limbs, welling dark blood against pale timber barely dried.
‘Dev!’ Risala darted forward to snatch the melon and hurl it out into the water.
‘What the—?’ Dev gaped at the girl.
Kheda froze, looking to see if any distant savage had heard the sudden splash.
A flap of great leathery wings reverberated along the strait. Kheda grabbed for Risala and pulled her down beside him, sheltering her body with his own. The noise of wings came again, rending the air with a sound like tearing calico. The savages raised an exultant ululation.
‘What’s going on, Dev?’ Kheda demanded in a harsh whisper.
Dev’s eyes were wide and wondering. ‘Cursed if I know,’ he hissed, frustrated. ‘And I won’t be scrying to find out.’
Frantic drumming of spears and clubs on the hollow log boats echoed along the strait, volume swelling, pace increasing. It stopped, cut off by the thunderous crash of the dragon’s landing.
Did it really make the earth shake or is that just my imagination running riot?
Kheda moved as far forward as he dared, to the edge of the rocky promontory where the three of them lay.
The dragon had landed and was crouching in the middle of the area the savages had cleared. Its lashing tail smashed a scatter of crude shelters. The wild men were all prostrate on the ground, not moving even when the beast’s mighty tail sent broken timbers thumping down on their unprotected bodies. The dragon threw back its head and roared, an ear-splitting, unearthly sound penetrating flesh and bone. Flocks of panic-stricken birds surged up from the forest all around. Even the pied forest eagles that had few foes to fear burst screeching from the trees and fled.
Kheda reached for Risala and she held his hand tight. The warlord spared Dev a glance. ‘Are you all right?’
‘It’s the magic. I can feel it.’ Dev’s eyes were wide and bright and the breath was shaking in his chest, as if he had a fever. ‘I’ll be all right,’ the mage said through clenched teeth, ‘as long as it doesn’t come any nearer.’
Kheda shared a glance with Risala that told him they were in unspoken agreement.
If it does, that’s when we start running. And don’t you dare follow us, you star-crossed barbarian. The dragon roared again, not so loudly this time, more intimidation than challenge. Rising to its feet, it stalked towards the tangled heap of dead and dying savages. It snapped at the helpless victims and severed limbs fell from its mighty jaws as it tossed its head back to swallow.
‘Stars above.’ Kheda watched, aghast, unable to look away.
‘So that’s how you stop a dragon eating you,’ Dev said with a strained attempt at sarcasm. ‘Make sure you’ve taken enough prisoners to fill its belly.’
‘Is that why the invaders didn’t care that their captives were too old to be useful slaves?’ Risala wrinkled her nose. ‘They just wanted meat on hand in case a dragon arrived?’
‘But none of their wizards summoned a dragon last year.’ Kheda looked at Dev. ‘Why not?’
Dev glared back. ‘I’ll weave a quick net of elemental air to grab one of those shoving his face in the dirt, shall I? We’ll hope he’s managed to learn enough Aldabreshin to explain, shall we?’
‘Look.’ Kheda extracted his aching fingers from Risala’s fierce grip with some difficulty and laid his hand on top of hers. Down on the shoreline, a single figure rose slowly to his feet from among the huddled mass of savages. ‘Is that their wizard?’
‘The one bastard astute enough to discard anything that would single him out for death at our hands?’ Dev narrowed his dark eyes, sweat beading his forehead.
There was nothing to distinguish this wild man from the rest. The beast paused in its grisly feast and regarded him, cocking its massive head quizzically. It opened its mouth, rags of flesh dark on its white teeth, and hissed, low and menacingly.
The man kept his eyes lowered, not meeting the creature’s burning gaze. Head bowed, he reached into some recess of his scant loin cloth and threw something in the dust before the dragon. Its head darted down and the scales fringing the back of its neck fanned out. Tongue flickering, the beast rumbled deep in its throat, making the air throb. Losing interest in the meat scattered around it, the dragon crouched, hind legs coiled beneath it, front legs bent, claws digging into the sand. The light at the centre of its lurid red eyes shone fiery gold.