He scanned the intent faces all around. Here and there he noted the uncut hair and beard of a soothsayer. The sages were nodding with approval as they clutched their baskets of prophetic stones or held augury doves dozing in little cages.
Kheda’s voice strengthened. ‘Do not fear the stain of magic touching you. Wiser men than us, through many revolutions of the heavens, are all agreed that the innocent victims of magic are not condemned by its touch. Every portent for Chazen has been positive of late, from the blessing of the prodigious pearl harvest onwards. The domain’s future is full of hope. We are here to claim that hope for ourselves and for those we love. The rains will wash this dragon’s blood from Chazen soil to be lost in the boundless depths of the ocean.’
A few men raised a belligerent cheer.
Kheda spoke again, his voice louder, harsher. ‘We know these beasts can be killed. This dragon we are here to hunt fought and killed the fire-born beast that first arrived to plague us. That evil is dead and gone and scales from its hide are token of that death and talisman to protect the lives risked here today.’ He pointed to men wearing scales on thongs of leather or plaited grass, dull as gouts of blood in the muted light.
‘This second dragon paid heavily for its victory. I saw its terrible wounds with my own eyes. The creature is already grievously weakened.’ Kheda thrust his helmet back on to his head and drew a sword. ‘Let’s kill it for Chazen and look to the future!’
This time a full-throated roar burst from the crowd.
‘Mezai! Where are the scouts who volunteered to track it down last night?’ Kheda had to raise his voice to be heard in the din.
‘My lord!’ Before the shipmaster could answer, Kheda saw another familiar face forcing a path through the throng.
‘Beyau, what brings you here?’ Cold flowed through Kheda’s heart. ‘Is my lady Itrac all right?’
‘She is, my lord,’ Beyau assured him at once. ‘She gave me leave to join in this hunt. She sent this for you.’ He handed Kheda a double-folded and tightly sealed letter.
Kheda took it, aware that all eyes were suddenly fastened on him. He cracked the seals, sweat from his fingers darkening the pale reed paper. He scanned the letter and purposely smoothed an incautious frown from his forehead, replacing it with a wide smile of delight
‘We have another omen of blessing for Chazen.’ Kheda brandished the paper high above his head to include everyone in his shouted announcement. ‘My lady Itrac Chazen is with child! Let’s make sure she brings the new heir into a domain free from the shadow of any dragon’s wings!’
His words were drowned out by exultant cheers raised by those standing closest to him. Kheda stood looking at the letter.
Will you leave another fatherless child to be raised by a mother secretly relieved you are gone from her life? Will you leave Chazen with the disaster of an infant ruler prey to Daish ambition, never mind any other domain that might look to take advantage? This is all still far from over.
‘This won’t be such good news if we make so much noise that we frighten the dragon into flight, wounded or not.’ Kheda turned his back on the jubilation spreading across the clutter of boats in the bay, lest he inadvertently catch sight of Risala. ‘Mezai, where are those scouts?’
‘Here, my lord.’ Struggling for some belated restraint, the crowds parted to allow three disparate groups of men through to the warlord.
‘My lord.’ The leader of the first group bowed low before exchanging a glance with the man pushed forward by the second band. Each contingent showed a stamp of common blood and a harmony in their dress and weapons suggesting they were village hunting parties. The third gang was a loose collection of men whose stained gear and worn faces indicating the harder life of the solitary forest dweller. They had the darker complexions and wiry hair of hill blood rather than the coppery faces and sleeker heads of the coastal dwellers.
‘Where is the dragon?’ Kheda looked from the first man to the leader of the second group.
‘That pass leans to a narrow valley, my lord.’ The first man turned to point to a notch in the vine-choked trees cloaking the high ground rising from the shoreline. ‘The valley leads up to a broad terrace on the far side of that peak. That’s where the beast is lying up.’
Kheda looked but couldn’t even see a peak on the distant mountain shrouded by curtains of low cloud. ‘It’s huddled in between two ridges running down from the height,’ the leader of those from the second village added dourly. ‘Trying to hide itself under a stand of iron-woods.’
‘Is there space to get sufficient men up to fight it on this terrace?’ Kheda looked for answers among all the men.
‘Space enough.’ One of the forest dwellers took a pace forward, rubbing a hand over his close-cropped beard. ‘But there’s only the one path to get up there.’
‘Good day to you, Zicre.’ Kheda nodded a brief greeting.
‘There’s nothing but bare rock and scree at its back, my lord,’ the dour hunter continued. ‘We can only come at it from the front.’
‘I don’t think the beast is expecting attack,’ an older man from the first village said judiciously. ‘It’s not lying up where it could keep watch for anyone starting up the slope.’
‘It’s certainly sorely wounded, my lord,’ volunteered one of the second contingent. ‘A blind man could find it in the dark from the stink alone.’
‘And get his head bitten off for his trouble,’ Zicre commented, grim-faced. ‘If it’s not lying in wait, it certainly doesn’t want to be found.’ He fixed Kheda with a questioning eye.
Kheda looked calmly back at him. What would you ask me, if you dared? How did I know the dragon was here in the first place? Whether it would regain its strength if we left it alone? Could even so great a creature recover from the wounds you’ve seen? Why are we risking ourselves instead of just waiting to see if the dragon dies?
Because I think Velindre was right, mage or not, when she said this would be a form of purification for the domain. Because I have to know if I am condemned for bringing magic to this domain. What better wager than my life against this creature’s?
He looked away from Zicre to the first group of scouts. ‘How wide is the path to this terrace? How many men can we send up it abreast?’
‘Four or five.’ The man got nods of agreement from his companions.
‘Is there room for them to spread out, to let more of us come up behind?’ persisted Kheda. ‘If there’s only the one way to reach this beast, we must overwhelm it as fast as we can.’
‘Yes, my lord,’ several men concurred, their faces serious.
At the rear, Zicre looked grimmer than ever. ‘There’s space, my lord.’
‘Then let’s be on our way.’ Kheda walked past him and headed for the track between the tandra trees. Seeing their warlord disappearing into the green darkness stifled the last cheers still ringing around the outskirts of the impromptu horde. The men of Chazen followed their warlord; trained swordsmen, practised hunters, fishermen relying on skills learned performing very different tasks and villagers with unwavering determination to reinforce their shaky arms. The abrupt silence was broken only by the crack of brush and vegetation mercilessly subdued by their passing and the chink and rattle of armour. Even with the cool of the night lingering here and there among the shadowy trees, the air was close and oppressive.
Kheda led the way up towards the notch in the higher ground that gave on to the valley leading up to the dragon’s lair. The taciturn Zicre slid through the swordsmen to follow close behind him, swiping unnecessarily at opportunist tangles of striol vine choking beny bushes and lilla saplings striving to claim their share of the rainy season’s bounty. Behind, the sound of hacking blades grew louder as men spilled off the narrowing trail into the thicker growth, oaths and obscenities meeting thorns or whipping twigs fighting back.