One item caught my attention before I slept. Kendra sat unmoving, eyes glazed. I decided she was mentally touching the dragon although I hadn’t seen it in a while. I suspected that as she observed Anna and I communicate, she was trying to do the same with the beast. If she managed to see through its eyes or convey more than basic emotions and directions, we would all be safer.
The fact that she could direct it at all told me she had the basics in hand. Perhaps practice or repeated interaction would reveal the right methods to make it work. I went to sleep with those thoughts on my mind.
I woke to thirst and lack of water. My last water jug contained enough dregs to wet my mouth with warm spit. The northern branch of the great Dagger River and its chain of “pearl” lakes couldn’t be far. Not that the northern branch contained the famed lakes, but it would flow south and east to where the southern branch joined it and from there to the city of Dagger were dozens of impoundments. Each formed a pearl of a lake. Several were so large the far shore was out of sight.
The present rulers and peoples of Kondor had inherited them. The rock and earthen dams had been engineered by unknown desert dwellers of a forgotten civilization. Some said the lakes were a thousand years old. Others said they were older.
I scoffed at the idea of those estimates until I’d heard the age of the trees found growing on the banks of the lakes and the ages of some of the buildings that were constructed with unknown methods and decorated with forgotten languages.
Kendra slowed and eventually rode at my side. “We’re all thirsty,” she said. “I think when we went over that last rise, I saw the river was directly ahead.”
In my mind, the river as a destination had become both a beacon and a line of demarcation. It was our temporary goal, but more importantly, it was from that point we went on to whatever we planned to do—the part that was unknown other than in the most general terms.
I kept my thoughts to myself. As we rode to the top of the next gentle rise, the river was a line of faint green in the distance. Not that the water was green, but when water is applied to the desert, plants grow in abundance. Both banks were lush with greenery.
While admiring and anticipating the respite from the heat beside the river and the prospect of all the water I could drink, which would amount to enough to slow the flow of the river, I didn’t look behind us as I should have, especially since I rode last in line for just that reason. The first indication of a problem was a slight whistle of wind as if it had suddenly picked up and blew across strips of leather.
Turning, I found a Wyvern flying low, its toothy beak of a maw open and coming directly at me. Reflexes took hold. I kicked my feet free of the stirrups and dived to one side. My hand reached for my sword.
But my mind acted without instruction if that is possible. To Anna, I mentally shouted, *Look out!* as my mouth screamed a warning by the wordless yell. My mind also scooped up sand, a lot of it, and threw it at the eyes, and the open mouth, that nearly raked the saddle of my horse. I was the target of the beast.
The Wyvern wailed in protest at the sand struck. At least some of it went into its eyes. Another Wyvern flew directly behind the first, and this time with conscious thought, I used all the magic I could draw to throw more sand at it, which in retrospect seemed like a child throwing sand at antagonists.
Behind that one flew seven or eight more, all seemingly looking directly at me. Me, not the others.
Instead of passively throwing sand at them like a petulant schoolboy, I leaped to my feet. Since I’d been the rear guard for our group, if a poor one, the beasts flew at me first, so maybe I was not targeted.
The next one came at me, flying even lower, so low its wing tips skimmed the ground and stirred the sand. The beak, or mouth, was open, shrieking at me as it prepared to snap at me, but that was a mistake. I held my sword in what the Weapons-Master at Crestfallen had called a cocked position, where my feet were firmly planted, my knees bent, both of my hands grasped the pommel in tight fists, and the back of the hilt nearly touched my shoulder. The blade was a solid obstruction, ready to allow the attacker to use his size and weight against himself.
I waited. That was the hard part. It seemed a long time but was in reality only the time to gasp for one more tense breath, as I tensed. The Wyvern neared. At the last moment, I dodged aside and resumed my stance. My sword lashed out at the Wyvern. I sliced behind the head as it flew past me instead of passively using myself as bait.
The sword lived up to its reputation as it nearly severed the head. The momentum carried the Wyvern forward, but I didn’t watch because another was nearly upon me. Only my training brought the sword into the cocked position again in time to defend myself. I slashed it along the side and prepared for the next.
It also flew low and fast, but well before it reached me, a shadow from the corner of my eye swept down and plucked it from the sky in its great talons. It was Kendra’s dragon. As it flew upward, it snapped at the head of the Wyvern. The dragon shook the Wyvern violently and allowed the dead animal to fall to the desert floor as it swerved to attack another Wyvern.
The attackers turned and fled; the dragon in pursuit. It caught up with one, and an aerial battle followed. The smaller and quicker Wyvern twisted and turned to elude the heavier dragon until it made its final fatal mistake and the dragon’s mouth seized it.
Kendra’s dragon returned and circled above us as if daring any of the Wyvern to return. None did. As I turned to face the others, I found another dead Wyvern on the ground; dark blood pooled near its chest. Will wiped his blade on a scrap of cloth as casually as if performing a weekly cleaning of his weapon.
None of us were hurt, which seemed a miracle since the attack had come so suddenly and unexpectedly. It should not have been a surprise. Any of us should have anticipated the Young Mage retaliating or sending the Wyverns to kill us. At the very least, we should have expected he would try to draw us back to Kaon even if it included making us so angry at him we acted from that instead of rationality. If it did happen, if we reacted with emotion, we’d blindly charge the city of Kaon to get our revenge, exactly what he wanted. I was still berating myself when the princess cleared her throat, drawing our attention.
Elizabeth said softly, “The Young Mage sent them to kill us or lure us back.”
It was not a question. None of us tried to deny her assessment. Kendra said, “It won’t be the last attack on us. He knows where we are.”
Will kicked the dead Wyvern in frustration. “The next attack will be with men. He knows our location and will have an army waiting for us at the gates of Dagger. There will be others before then, probably small bands of bounty hunters seeking huge rewards.”
“How do you know that?” I found the words tumbling from my mouth without thinking.
“Because, it’s what I’d do,” he said simply. “His plans are already laid, and men are moving into position as we hesitate. There will be more than one ambush. Too bad, we won’t be there.”
Elizabeth said, “To avoid them, we have to move quickly and unexpectedly. Also, I want each of you to think of this while we’re riding. What will his next move be? Let your minds run free. Come up with something the Young Mage will not expect.”
Her foot was in her stirrup as she said her last words, and she pointed her horse to the river before swinging her other leg over. We followed at a more sedate pace. However, from the expressions, all wore, her feelings were very little different than ours. Fear had transformed into determination and anger.
For myself and my planning, I’d thought we might catch a boat and sail downriver to Dagger and depart just before reaching the city and cut across to the southern part of the bay where a boat could be chartered to Landor if the passage was not to be found on another.