Realm Of Light Part 24

Its rider kicked and shouted commands that the dragon ignored. Caelan ran at them.

The Thyzarene jumped clear of the harness straps and hurled his javelin. It struck the arm rim of Caelan's breastplate and skidded off into the meat of his upper arm. The pain burned momentarily and was forgotten as he leaped at the man. Together they tumbled in a gouging, kicking heap.

Caelan dropped his sword, knowing it was no good at such close quarters. Blocking the Thyzarene's attempt to gouge out his eyes, he drew his dagger and struck hard, but the Thyzarene's dagger blocked the blow.

Cursing each other, they rolled over and over, each trying for a fatal blow. Just as Caelan was about to get one of his arms around the other man's throat, the Thyzarene wriggled free and broke away.

Caelan scrambled to his feet in pursuit, only to find the man waiting for him in a knife-fighter's stance. Caelan at once crouched low, holding his dagger loose and ready in his hand. Intent and wary, they circled each other.

"Caelan!" Elandra cried out.

He glanced to the side, expecting to see her taken prisoner. Instead, the rider of the dragon she held enspelled had jumped off his beast and was running, not at her, but instead to join the fight against Caelan.

He accepted the unfair shift of odds without fear. Clearly in his mind he could hear his former trainer Orlo say, There are no rules in the arena. There are no rules in the arena.

The Thyzarenes were much shorter than he, which gave him the advantage of reach. But they were quick, acrobatic, and fearless. Knowing the approaching man would come at his back, Caelan shifted around in an effort to recover his sword from where it lay in the churned-up snow.

No longer was this a simple knife fight. Grinning, the two Thyzarenes exchanged swift comments in their own language. Caelan's gaze slid again to his sword. If he could get to it, he had a chance.

But they also looked at the sword, plainly determined to keep him from it.

The second Thyzarene had gray streaks in his dark hair. His body was as wiry and tough as leather. He had the cold, empty eyes of a predator, watching Caelan for any move. The other man-younger, slightly heavier-had a wild gleam in his eyes that said he was reckless and enjoying himself. He wanted Caelan's blood, but he was not as dangerous as the older man.

Caelan circled, feinting when one of them moved, taking the chance to catch his breath, feeling the lag of strength fall through his muscles as time stretched out, feeling the ache of his bruised ribs beneath his breastplate as severance severance slipped slightly. slipped slightly.

And as though his mind had suddenly cleared, he realized he was too much in the habit of fighting for show in the arena, stretching out the contest for the enjoyment of the audience, of using weapon, brute strength, and heart.

Severing more deeply, feeling the sweet, icy cold plunge into the void, Caelan reached for their threads of life. more deeply, feeling the sweet, icy cold plunge into the void, Caelan reached for their threads of life.

Suddenly, Lea stood before him.

Without warning, without movement, she was suddenly there. Less than four strides away, she stared at him with disappointment in her blue eyes.

Defiantly he stared back. She did not understand that sometimes killing was necessary.

"And sometimes it is not," she said in his mind. "Think, Caelan. Reach beyond the simple thoughts of a warrior and use the mind you were given. See in new ways. Use the opportunity before you."

The men attacked him. The heightened perceptions of severance severance made them appear to move slowly. Caelan shifted aside to avoid them. made them appear to move slowly. Caelan shifted aside to avoid them.

"Would you have me stand here and be killed?" he said to Lea in exasperation.

"Think, Caelan! Look at what you have."

"I have two dragon riders ready to cut me into ribbons."

"Dragon riders," she said. "Think!" "Think!"

An image filled his mind of the strong beasts sweeping across the sky, used as swift messengers and dispatch carriers. He thought of long distances to cross, of too little time.

The Thyzarenes lifted their weapons to strike. From far away, distorted and slow, came their attack cries.

Caelan glared at Lea. "Get out of the way."

"Don't-"

"Get out of the way!"

She retreated, and Caelan reached for the Thyzarenes' threads of life, grabbing them and jerking them hard.

He did not cut them, and when he jolted back from severance severance and stood blinking in the sunshine, he found both men lying unconscious at his feet. Swiftly he disarmed them. and stood blinking in the sunshine, he found both men lying unconscious at his feet. Swiftly he disarmed them.

"Caelan!" Elandra called. "I can't hold this much longer."

He saw her still standing with her jewel held aloft, while the dragon hovered and moaned, dipping and bobbing now as its strong wings faltered.

"Let the dragon go," he said. "Let it go. It won't attack without its rider. But stay out of reach of its tail, just in case."

Elandra lowered her arms, covering the topaz in her palm, and ran backward away from the dragon.

It landed on the ground with a thud and stood on its short, awkward legs, heaving for air, its wings trembling, its head down. The other one had stopped rubbing its burns in the snow and now stood glaring at Caelan, its tail whipping angrily back and forth.

Prudently, he stepped away from the unconscious men, and the burned dragon calmed down slightly.

Caelan hurried to collect his sword and cloak. Wiping the blade dry, he slid it back into its scabbard and looked around.

"Lea!" he called aloud, letting his voice echo into the trees. "Lea, come here!"

His sister did not appear. All he heard was the sound of jackdaws in the distance and the uneasy moans of the dragons. Caelan frowned in annoyance. Why did she have to be so stubborn?

Elandra came to him, and he slung his arm around her to draw her close. "I thought they would kill you," she said.

"You did not follow orders," he replied mildly.

She tilted back her head to look up at him. "Would you be alive if I had?"

He did not feel up to arguing, so he kissed her nose instead.

She smiled at him, then looked at the unconscious men. "Are they dead?"

"No." Caelan frowned. "If I had rope, I could truss them."

"There are tethers and hobble ropes on the dragons' harnesses."

He met the glowering iridescent eye of the burned dragon and shook his head. "We'll find another way."

"What do you intend to do?"

A groan from one of the men told him they were starting to wake up. He gave her a brief smile. "Have you ever flown in the air before, my beloved?"

Her eyes widened, and she gasped. "You mean, ride the dragons?"

"Yes. It is very high above the ground and frightening at first, but you would be-"

"Why, Caelan, we would be in Gialta in a matter of days instead of weeks. Perhaps quicker. They can fly like the wind," she said excitedly, looking not at all afraid. "Can you convince them to take us willingly?"

Gray Hair stirred and slowly sat up, cradling his head in his hands.

Caelan watched him grimly. "Willingly or not, they will take us."

"Then arrange it quickly," Elandra said.

Caelan walked over to the Thyzarene and hauled him to his feet. He gave the man a rough shaking to finish waking him up, then shoved him back.

"Your name," he said.

The Thyzarene blinked at him slowly, his eyes filling with humiliation and hatred.

"Your name!" Caelan barked.

"I am Bwend," the man replied. His voice was sullen. But his gaze now took in Caelan's imperial armor and the large emerald in Exoner's hilt. He glanced at Elandra and came to attention. "Bwend, rider of Nia. Formerly dispatch flier in the Seventh Corps."

Caelan was pleased. If the man had once had some military discipline pounded into him, he would be somewhat easier to handle. He pointed. "And this other man?"

Bwend didn't bother to look at his still unconscious comrade. "Fotel, rider of Basha."

At the sound of its name, the burned dragon lifted its head and roared.

"Are you kin to the boy?" Caelan asked, ignoring the dragon.

"No," Bwend said curtly.

"You're lying."

Bwend shot him a hostile look. Resentment simmered in his lean, weathered face, but he said nothing.

"Are you his father?" Caelan persisted.

Again Bwend said nothing.

Caelan was tempted to let it pa.s.s, but he knew this issue had to be dealt with now. "Kupel threatened the life of her Majesty," he said. "None may do that, whether child or man grown. None."

He deliberately made his voice harsh and unsympathetic. He knew enough of the customs of these people to understand that they did not respect weakness or compa.s.sion.

Bwend frowned, and a flicker of something incomprehensible pa.s.sed through his face. Caelan hoped he accepted the explanation; he would despise an apology. Not that Caelan intended to offer one.

"You are my prisoners," Caelan said. "You have attacked her Majesty, and no man may do that and live."

Bwend's chin lifted. His eyes grew blank and steely as though he prepared himself for execution.

Caelan drew his sword, letting the sunshine flash along the blade. His face was like stone; his eyes gave nothing away. From the corner of his vision he saw Glandra bring one hand to her mouth. He prayed she would not interfere.

Perhaps she understood what he was doing, for she said nothing.

Caelan slowly extended the sword until the tip rested lightly at Bwend's throat. The Thyzarene's forehead crinkled, and he swallowed hard. Otherwise, he stood there stoically, refusing to beg for his life.

Cursing his stubbornness, Caelan let the silence stretch. As he stood there with the man's life in his hands, he felt anew the temptation to make one quick thrust. In the blink of an eye, there would be one member of E'nonhold avenged.

But he held back the old rage. This was not the place or the time.

Bwend was staring into his eyes, and the Thyzarene's own had widened at what they read in Caelan's. Perspiration broke out on his forehead.

"Majesty," he said, gasping as Caelan eased the sword tip closer against his throat, stopping just short of piercing the skin. Bwend's eyes flashed back and forth. "Leave to speak," he choked out.

"Granted," Elandra said coldly.

Caelan could have kissed her. She was playing the role of an outraged monarch perfectly. For once her haughty tone was exactly right.

She swept Caelan an imperious glance. "Let him speak."

Caelan lowered his sword.

Bwend dropped to his knees at Elandra's feet. "Majesty," he said, his accent blurring his words, his eyes carefully cast down, "have mercy. The beacons have flashed the message across the empire that you are missing. Reward has been offered. We sought only your Majesty's recovery."

"You attacked us without provocation," she said, no mercy in her voice. "You would have killed-"

"No, Majesty!" Bwend protested.

Caelan struck him across the mouth with the back of his hand. "Do not interrupt her Majesty!"

Bwend sank lower, spitting blood on the snow, silent and obedient now.

The other Thyzarene groaned and rolled over.

Caelan spun around and grabbed him by the back of his fur tunic, hoisting him up bodily and shoving him over beside Bwend. Fotel's dark eyes squinted, then lost focus. He groaned, supporting his head in his hands.

"Let me kill them now, Majesty," Caelan said.

"Wait," she replied.

Bwend glanced up in hope, and slowly Fotel also raised his head.

"Tell me the truth," Elandra said. "Swear on your blood-oath that you meant me no harm."

Bwend didn't hesitate. He held out his hand to Caelan, palm up. His gaze never left Elandra's, not even when Caelan sliced open his palm. Bright blood welled up in the cup of his hand. "I swear I meant no harm to your Majesty. I gave loyal service to the emperor while he lived. I would give loyal service again."

Tears welled up in Elandra's eyes. No longer playacting, she gently placed her gloved hand on the man's head. "I will accept your oath and service. Your help, if you will give it, would do me great service now."

Hope flashed in his face, swiftly masked. "Anything, Majesty."