That much is true, Kahg thought bitterly.
“You know that if this Aelon succeeds in driving out the Old Gods, we dragons are next,” he said. “We are a threat to Aelon’s power. He will kill us or drive us off and then seal the entrance to this world.”
“That old cow Vindrash would say that, wouldn’t she?” Fala sneered. “Anything to keep us subservient. Aelon proclaims that he will welcome dragons to his world.”
“Gods lie,” said Kahg.
Fala shook her head. Flames rolled off her crest. “I grow weary of all this talk,” she said, annoyed.
“You are just plain growing weary,” Kahg said dryly. He cast a glance down at his humans. They were well-trained, bracing themselves for the fight, trusting in their dragon. “For days you hauled that war galley across the sea from Sinaria. And now you think you have energy enough left to do battle.”
Fala was angry. “Very well, coward dragon, Kahg. We will see who is weary when I slay you and set fire to your ship!”
“Which is what you should have done in the first place, you silly twit!” Kahg roared, laughing.
Fala shrieked at him, furious, and dove down at Kahg. Her wings trailed fire, her breath roared flames that seared Kahg’s scales. The pain was not severe, but it made him angry. Kahg roared and then ducked his head into the ocean, as though he were trying to douse the fire. He sucked in a belly full of seawater, raised his head, and spewed the water at his foe.
The blast struck Fala in the chest and sent the startled dragon reeling. Her wings flapped wildly as she tried desperately to maintain altitude. Kahg sucked in more water and hit her again. The second blast flipped her over and knocked her from the air. Fala plummeted into the sea, steam rising from her floundering body.
Fala thrashed and fought to keep from sinking as white, foaming waves broke over her head. She choked and coughed and sputtered. Waves struck her repeatedly, slamming into her from behind, crashing over her crest.
Kahg watched with grim amusement as the young dragon paddled her legs like a dog, struggling to keep herself afloat. She glared at Kahg in rage. Her jaws worked. She opened her mouth to roast him alive. A wave hit her in the nose and she began to cough and choke.
“Your human is in trouble, Fala,” Kahg advised. “You had better return to him. And you might tell him, by the way, no experienced Bone Priestess on board a ship in the middle of the ocean would ever make the mistake of summoning a fire dragon, especially when confronted by a dragon formed of water.”
Kahg added in scathing tones, “And no intelligent dragon would ever permit it.”
Fala started to say something, but nothing came out except seawater. She thrashed her legs and flapped her wings and managed, after a few failed attempts, to drag her heavy body up out of the waves. Water poured from her like rain.
Aelon’s Triumph was in almost as sad a state as its dragon. The war galley wallowed in the sea, surrounded by pieces of broken oars floating on top of the water. Raegar was on the foredeck yelling at his dragon, exhorting her to continue her attack.
Fala shook her head sullenly, sending down a flurry of water, refusing to obey. The young dragon had been made to look foolish, her pride wounded. She undoubtedly hated the Dragon Kahg with all her being, but she was too exhausted to fight. Kahg watched her fly off slowly, heading toward the nearest shore to rest and recover, leaving Raegar to shout after her in helpless rage. When men on his ship raised a cheer as they watched the dragon depart, Raegar swore at them and then ordered them to raise the sail.
“This is not over between us,” Fala snarled over her shoulder.
“Come back when you grow up,” Kahg told her.
On deck, his humans were celebrating, laughing at the dragon’s humiliation and jeering across the water at Raegar. The human, Skylan, was urging Kahg on, urging the dragon to attack.
The other humans in the ogre ship were in no danger; they were putting more and more water between their ship and Aelon’s so-called Triumph.
The Dragon Kahg considered his options.
* * *
Skylan stood on the deck of the Venjekar, his sword in hand, thrilled with the thought of avenging himself on his treacherous cousin. Raegar had counted on the strength of his dragon to destroy his enemies. He had never imagined that she could be defeated, or that his men would turn on him. Raegar was out here on the sea alone, with a ship full of demoralized troops. The fearful sight of the Dragon Kahg bearing down on them would unnerve them further.
Behind him, the godlord’s ship, at the sight of the fire dragon, had slowed, keeping well out of the way. The vague outlines of a plan formed in Skylan’s mind. He would send Kahg to destroy Raegar’s ship in full view of the ogres. After that, Skylan would sail in triumph back to the ogres. He would offer them friendship while the Dragon Kahg circled overhead, letting them know what would happen to them if they declined. He would ask them to take Keeper’s body, fulfilling his vow to his friend. Then he would boldly demand that they escort him safely to the ogre homeland.
“I will make up some reason,” he said, explaining his plan to Aylaen. “I will tell them I’ve come to talk peace with their godlords. We will find the Vektan Torque and steal it back. But first”-Skylan gripped his sword-“I will settle my score with Raegar.”
He realized suddenly that the Venjekar was slowing.
“What is the dragon doing?” Skylan asked angrily. “Tell Kahg to maintain course! We’re going to fight-”
He saw the expression on Aylaen’s face. “Now what’s wrong?”
“The Dragon Kahg won’t fight,” said Aylaen. “He says we are in no danger and he won’t risk the Vektia spiritbone for some petty human desire for vengeance.”
The Venjekar was turning, maneuvering through the water.
“Kahg says we are going home.”
Aylaen’s eyes glistened with sudden tears. She lowered her head, averted her face.
“No!” Skylan cried. “He can’t do that! We have a chance…”
His words died. He looked at Sigurd’s ship, sailing north, up the coastline. Heading home. Skylan thought of his homeland. He thought of his father, the fields and the forests, fishing in the clear bright streams, playing games on the frozen lake. To bask in the warmth of a fire on a snow-silent night. To hear the laughter of his people as they gathered together in the Hall.
The two threads of his wyrd, one long, the other cut short. He remembered his dream. The serpents of Oran, the armies of Oran were marching to destroy his people.
Skylan would meet up with Sigurd, the two ships would sail home. Then he would wed Aylaen and she would be Kai Priestess. He would be Chief of Chiefs and this time he would try to be a wise and worthy chief. He would lead the Vindrasi in their fight against the armies of Aelon and when Aelon had been defeated, Skylan would raise a mighty army, command many dragonships that would sail to the ogre lands and beyond to find the Vektia spiritbones.
“We are going home,” said Skylan. His spirit seemed to soar over the waves, carrying him to Vindraholm.
CHAPTER 9
Treia, forgotten in the excitement, had fled down into the hold. Frustrated and upset, fearful Skylan would kill her, she paced restlessly, sometimes stopping to watch what was going on through a chink in the wooden planking. She had rummaged through the supplies of food and weapons she herself had provided to the Torgun warriors as part of a plot to lure them to their deaths until she found a knife, which she used to whittle away at the chink until she had a good view of Raegar’s ship-though with her poor eyesight, all she could see was a smudge on the ocean.