He squeezed the pearl and nodded in return. “You know the dreams will return,” he said. “Yes.” Ashe regarded her sadly. On the night they had met in their youth, on the other side of Time, she had told him of her disturbing dreams. When they had come to know each other again on this side of Time, those prophetic, prescient dreams had evolved into night terrors, causing her to thrash about violently in her sleep, even as they sometimes provided a key to what would come to pass in the Future, or what had happened in the Past. He, dragon that he was, had the ability to chase her nightmares away, had been able to provide a protective vibration that kept the nightmares that had once tortured her at bay while she slept. Over the years he had finally seen her at rest, at peace in his arms. “Who will keep you from the nightmares now, Aria?” he asked softly. “The nightmares are the least of it, especially if they help foretell what may come,” she said. “I suppose the answer is that you still will, Sam. In a way, the sacrifice you are making—we are all making—may be the only chance we have of keeping from being consumed by far more terrifying nightmares that do not go away upon waking.”
Her hand came to rest lovingly on the side of his check. “But I will come to you in dreams, if I can,” she said softly. “You are ever there, Aria.” She shook her head. “No, I mean that I will try to visit you, to be with you in a way that is more than dream, but less than the flesh. Being alone with Elynsynos for months, studying ancient texts of primal lore, I have come to understand much more about how Namer magic works than I ever knew before. And one thing I may be able to do is visit from time to time, in a way where we are both aware. Especially after Achmed has finished his project.” Ashe kissed her, then opened the door. “Either way, you are ever there.” Both of their backs suddenly straightened, as if shot with an arrow. “Meridion is crying,” they said to each other in unison. Ashe stood back to allow Rhapsody out the door first. As they hurried together down the hall, he looked down at his wife. “There is no possible way you could have heard that,” he said fondly. “You must be developing a dragon sense of your own. I must be rubbing off on you.” Rhapsody snorted and doubled her speed, beating him to the stairs by four strides. “Hardly. Every new mother is a bit of a dragon.” Ashe watched her descend the stairs two at a time. “Hmmm. That explains the ferocious mood swings.” The quartermaster had readied and provisioned four horses, two light riding, two heavier war horses. One of the war horses was of enormous size, and packed with very little weight; Grunthor examined it and nodded in approval. The other of the two heavy horses and one of the light riding horses bore most of the equipment and supplies for their long journey. The other light riding horse had been equipped with an extra long saddle. “I think at least at first you should consider riding with Achmed,” Ashe told Rhapsody gravely. “Your ordeal in the forest of Gwynwood, Meridion’s birth, and the long journey back here have taken their toll on you, Aria. I am not certain that in the current state of your health you can withstand the rigors of the swift ride, especially holding the baby swathed in the mist cloak. Therefore, I think wisdom dictates that you and Achmed share a saddle, at least for the first portion of the trip. I will rest easier knowing that you are unlikely to fall from the horse.” Rhapsody smiled and kissed him. “You will always be in my thoughts, as I know we will be in yours,” she said. “Each night before I go to sleep, I will try and visit you in your dreams. Remember the songs I sing to you when we are together and know that I will be singing to you even while we’re apart, and to Meridion; keep that picture in your mind, and we will never be far away from you.” Ashe smiled sadly in return. “Now I can count every one of your eyelashes, and each beat of your heart. I know how you are breathing, and how you shape the currents of air where you stand, how they change as you move. Once you are outside a range of five miles, it will be as if you are lost to me forever,” he said. “Just keep yourself and our son safe, my love. Knowing that you are doing so is the only chance that I have to hang on to sanity.” Rhapsody embraced him, knowing that he spoke the truth.
ce o’ news Oi thought you might want to know, sir,” Grunthor said quietly as Rhapsody and Ashe were saying their final goodbyes. “While you were away, ol’ Ashe’s grandma, that bloody dragon, Anwyn, made ’er way to the Bolglands and tried to get in. No worries, sir; we repelled ’er easily enough.”
“How did you manage that?” Achmed asked incredulously. “I have the only weapon in the whole of the Bolglands capable of piercing dragon hide, and it was with me. What did you do to drive her off?”
“We backed up the sewage cistern and blasted ’er out of the tunnels with the hrekin,” Grunthor replied. “About an ’undred thousan’ gallons of the former contents of Bolg arses; seemed an appropriate enough weapon. Besides, dragons are extra sensitive to all the senses, if I recall correctly. Stunned ’er, it did. Left an ’eck of a mess as well, which we thought about cleaning up before you got ’ome, but decided instead it made a lovely battlement. So we just sort a shaped it into a barricade and left it to stink up the place right nicely. Don’t expect she’ll be comin’ back anytime soon.”
“And you neglected to mention this at the council of war?” Achmed said, amused. “Yes, sir,” Grunthor said. “If ’e ’ad known that the dragon had already broached the Bolglands, there was a possibility ’er ’usband would not let her go. And in my judgment, sir, dragon or no, she’s safer with us anyway.”
“Agreed,” Achmed said, mounting his horse. “It should be interesting to see her reaction to your new barricade; Rhapsody considers cleanliness to be a sacrament. Let’s be on our way as soon as he can tear his lips off her and the squalling brat.”
14
The cohort of the Second Mountain Guard of Sorbold came to a halt at the place where the road leading north into the province of Canderre crossed with the forested trader’s route heading east from the wooded lands of Navarne to the capital city of Bethany. The wind was cold, but the sky clear; darkness and the absence of travelers in winter had covered their journey from their southern homeland with but minimal exception. Each stray merchant or farmer had been easily dispensed with, with no major outcry or notice in the sparsely settled area, just as they had planned.