Tears rolled down the modhiv's face. He had done it. He had been the correct candidate. Had there been only one dragon, Match and Ebben need not have died. He brushed the gauntlets against his bruised face. His cheeks were numb. All of him was numb.
"Two dragons," Alemar whispered.
The pounding of many boots rang in the foyer. Geim and Tregay sprinted to the great doors and slammed them shut. Toren cast a lock spell.
"That will hold them," he said, and coughed up a slug of vile phlegm. "At least until a wizard arrives."
"We've got to get out of here!" Geim said.
"Not yet," Toren said grimly. He turned to the side wall and concentrated. The portal opened.
Through the opening they saw a room much like the one in which they stood. Over a hundred men-at-arms crowded up to the opening. Four finely robed figures waited behind them, auras bright with the power of high wizards, one of them no doubt of the Ril. The escaped dragon towered at the rear of the room. One arrow-quick shake of its snout told Toren that it had completely recovered from the attack.
As soon as the window opened, the guards rushed forward. The lead row simply disappeared, out of view. The one-way nature of the portal prevented their entry. The second row halted, shaking their pikes and swords, shouting in anger.
Toren locked eyes with his giant enemy. "Gloroc," he said.
"Foul little creatures!" the Dragon hissed. "My parents were not enough for the likes of you! You have killed my sister as well! Escape if you can, but I shall find you!"
Tregay and Geim staggered backwards, caught unprepared by the waves of hate accompanying the words, which penetrated where physical substance could not. Toren let it wash over him without effect.
"I've been a fool," the modhiv murmured under his breath. Alemar stared at him quizzically.
Toren smiled wryly, realizing how artfully he had been duped. Of course Struth would want a candidate to use the gauntlets. Since Faroc and Triss had had more than one offspring, Toren's enlistment was simply a means of evening the odds.
Gloroc snapped his jaws. His indigo eyes flashed. "Tell the Dragonslayer he won't be so lucky next time! I know now that he lives, and I shall find him, also!"
Alemar let out an astonished squeak. He stared up at Gloroc. The Dragon leaned forward.
"A spawn of the wizard in the flesh! Come to me, little one. Wouldn't you like to throttle me?"
Alemar lunged forward, hands outstretched.
"No," Toren yelled. He waved his hand. The portal shut just before the prince reached it. Alemar tumbled forward, checked his momentum, and sagged against the wall. He shook, realizing that had been hypnotized, sobered to see how willingly he had been rushing toward his doom.
Men battered loudly at the doors. Toren pictured an entire city of enemy soldiers, sorcerers, and magical creatures chasing them and tried not to be sick.
"Now can we leave?" Geim demanded.
"We'll head for the tunnel," Toren said authoritatively. "Gather inside my ward. We might make it if we don't run into a sorcerer of the Ril."
"What did Gloroc mean?" Alemar asked as they collected in a tight diamond-formation. "The Dragonslayer lives? How can that be?"
"That's what I couldn't tell you earlier," Toren said as he dispelled the lock on the doors. "Struth is an illusion."
Epilogue
KERON SAT STIFFLY on his cushioned divan, high in the ambassador's minaret in the city of Tazh Tah, overlooking the once fertile plains of Simorilia. He saw a battlefield. The Dragon's army camped where crops should be growing, held at bay by local forces desperate to keep their capital out of enemy hands. Yet, morale was high in the city. Boisterous, drunken sounds of revelry wafted up the masonry of the minaret from the streets. The shah had broken the siege, partly as a result of Keron's strategies, and the army of the Calinin Empire was on its way. According to the latest reports, the first contingent of troops was halfway through Numaron, and would reach them in a fortnight.
Keron stood abruptly and paced, oblivious to the celebration. In his alcove, Treynaf stared into his globe, equally aloof. The king glanced once more at the battlefield. The first campfires of evening sparkled in the dusk, and their number confirmed the report that Val had just given him. The king turned and faced his son, who stood dutifully at attention, boots still dusty from his reconnaissance.
"I don't like it," Keron said. "It doesn't feel right."
"Do you think it's a trick?" Val asked.
"I don't know." He picked up his mug of hot wine and sipped. He scowled; the liquid had gone tepid. "It's not the time for the Dragon to withdraw a third of his troops. You say they're on a forced march back to the coast?"
"It seems that way. Perhaps he's worried about the emperor's army."
Keron set down his mug. "All the more reason to increase his strength. I expected him to try to take Tazh Tah before our allies arrive."
Val shrugged. Keron considered dismissing him, letting the boy share in the festivity. Whatever else, the Dragon's retreat meant a lull in the fighting, and Val had earned some relaxation.
"Perhaps this has something to do with the situation in Cilendrodel," the king mused. Word had recently come of Alemar's victory over the Dragon's sorcerer, and of the subsequent revolt. Keron pictured the withdrawn troops heading north.
Cilendrodel was a backwoods province. It did not have the means for a sustained fight against the Dragon's empire.
Toren would have arrived there by now. Keron's grandson would be born soon.
Disquieting energies thrummed down the haft of his scepter.
"Dragons!"
Treynaf stood up, knocking over his small table. The globe struck the flagstones and glanced off a wall so hard that, had it been ordinary crystal as opposed to a talisman, it would have shattered. Keron and Val jumped.
"Two dragons!" Treynaf cried. "To arms, cousin! March to Elandris! Do not wait for the dawn!"
Keron felt a cold, hard, satisfying knot in his gut. The scepter warbled. Two dragons? Time to sort the meaning later. For once, he knew unequivocally that his relative had seen with true Sight. Enough waiting. The time for action had come.
"Pass the order," he told Val. "We attack tonight."
GLOSSARY
Achird
The sun. The star around which Motherworld revolves.
Alemar Dragonslayer
Founder of Elandris; slayer of the dragons Faroc and Triss. Also Alemar the Great, Alemar I.
Alahihr
A union of tribes of the same race as the Vanihr, living in the Flat. The Alahihr practice of clearing land directly opposes the religious tenets of the Vanihr. The two peoples are bitter enemies.
Amane
A Vanihr tribe of cannibals.
amethery
An herb of the Cilendri forests, often used to prompt abortion.
burrost
Dried tree serpent, a Vanihr staple.
Cadra
Progenitor of the Zyraii.
Calinin
1. An ancient nation in the far west of the southern continent. 2. The empire that originated in Calinin, composed, at various times, of the countries of Calinin South, Aleoth, Cotan, Acalon, Tanjand, Agon, Neith, Tiandria, Serthe, Riannehn, Sirithrea, Numaron, Irigion, Rhida, Rhada, and Moin, as well as the motherland. 3. Those lands culturally and linguistically tied to the empire, including the countries above as well as Ranagara, Elandris, and Cilendrodel.
cheli
Among the southern Vanihr tribes, a person who is not capable of housing the memories of his ancestors, normally because of brain damage or mental retardation. Such persons are considered to be less than human and are not permitted to breed.
collberry
A low-lying tree of the Wood whose fruit is often eaten or fermented.
Dark Night
A term applied to those rare occasions when Achird, the Sister, Motherworld, and all of the major moons are below Tanagaran's horizon. Although traditionally celebrated only once a year, "dark nights" may happen as often as a month apart. Likewise, many Dark Nights are barely dark at all; total lack of suns, moons, and mother planet sometimes lasts as little as an hour. One of the major preoccupations of early Tanagaranese astronomers was the calculation of when Dark Night would occur.