Treasures of Fantasy - Margaret Weis [17]
Zahakis was skeptical. “Dragons have wings. At least, the one we saw had wings. Why don’t they simply fly wherever they want to go?”
“For the same reason we ride horses, Zahakis—to spare our feet. Dragons are large beasts, and though they are strong, they grow tired when they are in flight and must often stop to rest. The ship, powered by the dragon’s spirit, carries the dragon’s bone with it. The dragon can spring to life if he is needed and remain in spirit form when he is not.”
Zahakis wrinkled his brow. “And you believe this faery tale, my lord?”
“Oh, I must, Commander,” said Acronis with mock solemnity. “Aelon commands me.”
Zahakis grinned. He was about to make some comment when he saw Raegar emerge from down below and come up on deck. Zahakis gave a meaningful cough. Acronis glanced over his shoulder and lowered his voice.
“Still,” said Acronis in thoughtful tones, “you and I both saw the dragon fighting the giants. And I have read accounts written by people who have survived Vindrasi raids. Many relate how dragons fought alongside the warriors. Some claim that the ship itself changed into a dragon. Others claim that the dragon materialized out of thin air.”
Acronis leaned his arms on the railing and gazed with admiration at the dragonship. “I would like to see for myself, Zahakis.”
“You’re not serious, Legate.”
“I assure you I am,” said Acronis. “I am a man of science, Tribune. We saw a dragon fighting the giants. If the dragon will come when this woman whistles or prays or whatever she does, then I must take advantage of this opportunity.”
“And if she orders the dragon to kill us all?” Zahakis asked wryly.
Acronis glanced at his friend with a slight smile. “Are you now a believer in faery tales, Zahakis?”
“You pay me to be prepared for all eventualities, Legate,” said Zahakis.
“So I do, Tribune. Raegar claims this woman is in love with him and that she will do whatever he tells her. We have nothing to fear.” Acronis clapped Zahakis on the shoulder. “It will be exciting, Tribune. A break in the dull routine.”
“If you say so, sir,” Zahakis said.
“We will make the attempt tomorrow morning. Take whatever precautions you feel are necessary. And don’t forget to show me which of the savages is Ivorson.”
Acronis paced the deck, his gaze always on the Venjekar.
“If I see a dragon and live to tell about it,” Acronis said to himself, “what a wonderful story I will have to take home to Chloe.”
Skylan watched the sun set from the deck of the Venjekar. Aylis, the Sun Goddess, slid out of a cloud bank, where she had been hiding most of the day. Hot and molten, she began to melt into the water. In the last minutes, before she sank, she seemed to glare at him, point at him with a red, accusing finger that lanced across the sea.
“What are you doing, sitting there like a lump?” the goddess seemed to ask him. “Are you giving up? We need you to fight for us. . . .”
“What are you doing?” Skylan was tempted to ask her back, for even as the goddess chided him, she sank into the sea and the water closed over her.
As if in answer, Skoval, God of Night, began to skulk about among the tree trunks and slide slowly out of the distant mountains, stealing up on the world stealthily, as though afraid someone might notice. The commander of the Southlanders, Zahakis, returned, bringing with him ten soldiers and dismissing those who had been guarding the Vindrasi all day, sending them ashore to get some sleep. He ordered the archers back to the galley, telling them to eat and rest, for they would be needed in the morning.
Skylan wondered why. What was going to happen in the morning that required archers? Was there going to be a battle? Had they sighted an enemy? Two other Vindrasi dragonships had set out for ogre lands along with the Venjekar. Skylan had lost contact with his two ships during the storm. He hoped that they were