Song of the Dragon

CHAPTER 42

Belag was straining at his own patience. Urulani knew the Cragsway Pass, and the dwarf simply could not be stopped from coming. Even the Lyric-who still insisted that as Musaran the Wanderer her spirit could easily keep up with them all-was moving with them through the night. Fortunately, Belag mused, Drakis and Mala were nowhere to be found or they, too, might have insisted on coming. As it was, the group was moving far more slowly than Belag liked. He would have preferred them to have just stayed behind and let him deal with RuuKag himself-a stealthy hunt and a quick kill would have been more to his liking. But he did need Urulani to help him track down the traitorous manticore, and there seemed no stopping the dwarf or the Lyric. At least Jugar had managed to close his mouth and keep silent as they passed to the south.

It was well into twilight when they descended the southern slopes of the Sentinel Peaks. RuuKag’s tracks had been easy to follow through the pass; he had made no effort in his haste to disguise them. Darkness fell fully upon them as the foothills gave way to the savanna beyond. The tracking became more difficult through the tall grasses, but Urulani had more success here. Soon it was evident that the trail had straightened.

Urulani lifted her arm and pointed southward. Belag stopped and stood silently in the night for a time, finally lifting the dwarf up so that he could see above the tall grass.

The trail led straight toward the mud city of the Hak’kaarin-the same city they had left just days before.

Even from three leagues distant, they could see that something terrible had happened there.

The mud city was burning. Tongues of flame flared above it from the opening in its enormous roof. Smaller fires burned outside the great dome. Black, greasy smoke was billowing from the opening, marring the night sky with a great absence of stars overhead.

Belag put the dwarf down, and they began a more wary approach to the city.

It was well after midnight when the four of them arrived at the clearing surrounding the city. Gaping pits had opened up all around the base of the dome-part of the defensive system that Belag had observed surrounded each of the mud mound cities of the Hak’kaarin. Many of them appeared to have been activated. Other places in the ground and across the dome were marred with long, charred furrows.

“Look,” Urulani said in hushed tones as she pointed along the base of the dome. “Most of the gates are shut, but those two are broken inward-as is that third farther down.”

Belag nodded and then raised his head, his ears swiveled forward as he listened intently. Only the crackling and rush of the fires came to his ears. No cries. . No battle. . just the sound of burning.

“He came here,” the Lyric said with sadness filling her voice.

Belag turned to her. “Lyric, I don’t think. .”

“RuuKag came here because he was in pain,” the Lyric said, her eyes fixed on the nearest shattered gate. “He was in pain because he knew that he was once again part of a great story. He had listened to you, Belag, and heard more than you knew. For all his anger came from his pain, and his pain was that he had too great a heart. He believed you, Belag. In the end, he believed in Drakis, too.”

Belag, Urulani, and the dwarf stared at the Lyric. Her eyes gazed far away, as though she were seeing a scene that was beyond the vision of mere mortals. She began walking toward the shattered gate as she spoke. “But his own story was sad and tragic. He had bragged about going to war when he was a cub, but in his heart he had doubts. He feared pain and death, and so in the end he was branded a coward by his own pride and exiled. He was forgotten-even among the Hak’kaarin who once had sheltered him.”

Urulani whispered. “How can she know these things?”

“That girl knows more than she’s letting on,” Jugar said, his eyes narrowing as he considered her.

Belag shook his head. “Come. . look there in the ground. Those are RuuKag’s tracks. The Lyric’s walking in them.”

They came to the shattered gate. The long tunnel beyond curved gradually upward toward the center of the enormous mud dome as in every other city they had visited, but here they stopped in horror.

The floor was carpeted with the dead.

“What a struggle they must have put up,” Jugar breathed.

Urulani pressed her lips together, unable to speak.

Belag turned to the Lyric. “What happened here?”

“He came,” the Lyric continued, her eyes staring past the end of the rising tunnel toward where the glow of fire could be seen. “He had accepted your faith in Drakis, Belag, and the old fear returned to him. . but this time that he would be remembered as the manticore who failed the human of the prophecy. The battle was already raging when he arrived. He had come for solace from these gentle creatures of the Hak’kaarin, the only family he felt left to him. He saw the battle, heard the desperate cries of the mud gnomes. .”

The Lyric turned and pointed at the ground. “Here he ran, charging past the bodies of the gnomes who had fallen. He picked up a weapon-taken from this gnome’s cold hands-and with a great warrior cry leaped forward.”

The Lyric stepped carefully among the fallen dead, their blood staining her sandals and the hem of her skirt as she walked down the tunnel. Belag and the others, entranced by her words, followed down the hall with gingerly steps.

The Lyric stopped where the tunnel rose sharply upward toward the center of the dome. A great, jet-black stain swept from one side of the tunnel to the opposite wall where some of the mud had melted into dark glass. “Here he saw the first of them-a robed elven hunter whose magic was killing the Hak’kaarin in terrible numbers. Seeing the gnomes being murdered thus, at last RuuKag found his warrior’s heart-or perhaps he found a cause for which he could fight.”

At the apex of the stain lay a robed figure missing its head.

“Here, for the first time,” the Lyric said, “RuuKag found the courage to kill.”

The Lyric, her hem now dragging a terrible bloody stain across the floor behind her, stepped up the ramp and into the great open space beneath the center of the dome.

The fires were burning out in the upper levels but still gave all too bright illumination on the grizzly scene. Two sections of habitat walls had collapsus and buried part of the central floor of the common area. The bodies of the dead gnome defenders were a terrible blanket across the floor.

“Where are the children?” Urulani asked.

“What? What children?” Belag growled.

“That’s my point,” Urulani said, her eyes shifting across the mass of the dead. “These are all warrior gnomes. Some men and some women but none of them old-none of them infirm-and there are no children here among the dead.”

“She’s right,” Jugar said in astonishment. “In such a calamity one might expect an even greater number of noncombatants to fall prey to the terrible confusion of war.

“And there’s not enough of the dead,” Belag nodded. “This was terrible, indeed, but even so there are nowhere near enough dead to account for the entire city.”

“He saved them,” the Lyric said simply.

“Who saved them,” Belag asked.

The Lyric pointed again, this time to the far side of the commons.

Belag’s eyes opened wide.

RuuKag-or what was left of him-lay dead against the wall. His eyes were dull and blood stained the corners of his open jaws and his bared teeth. The hair was burned entirely off his left side where the raw red of his muscle was exposed. His right arm hung at an impossible angle, flopping limply over one of the three shafts that pierced his chest.

Next to him was a crumpled form in robes, an elf whose throat had been torn out.

“Elves!” Belag snarled.

“Back again, eh?” The dwarf gritted his teeth.

“Look! There are more of them,” Urulani said, again pointing to various places around the hall. “Four. . six. . wait, there’s one up there, too. Seven of them!”

Belag nodded as he stepped quickly through the carnage to reach RuuKag’s side. He stood over the fallen manticore for a few moments and then reached down and closed his eyes.

“Well fought, brother,” he murmured into RuuKag’s ear. “You’ve proved your heart this day. Your story will be told. . and I will tell it.”

Jugar considered RuuKag for a moment then took in the rest of the dead. “He bought them time. . time to escape.”

“Yes,” Belag said, straightening up. “The rest of the Hak’kaarin are fleeing to the other cities. Within days the story of what happened here will be told from one end of the savanna to the other.”

“I don’t understand,” Urulani said, shaking her head. “Slave hunters have no reason to attack the mud cities. The Hak’kaarin have no possessions worth the attention of any elves and they make terrible slaves.”

“These aren’t slavers,” Belag said, turning suddenly. “This is a full Quorum of the Iblisi-the Inquisitors of the Imperium. They have no interest in gnomes.”

“What do they want then?” Urulani asked. “Why attack this city?”

“Because they thought we were here,” Belag replied. “Because they thought he was here.”

“Drakis?” Urulani sputtered, “All these gnomes destroyed and your friend slaughtered. . just because these elven magicians think your friend is part of this moldy prophecy?”

“Come!” the manticore said as he began moving back toward the tunnel as quickly as the gore-coated floor would allow. “We have to get back. . we have very little time left.”

“Time?” Urulani said with astonishment. “Time for what?”

“Lyric. . uh, Musaran,” Belag called. “You must come and tell this story to Drakis.”

“As a spirit I am above such things,” the Lyric replied.

“Yes, but Drakis is fond of communing with spirits,” Belag continued. “Come quickly. Jugar, Urulani. We must get back at once!”

“Get back?” Urulani was losing her patience. “What about any survivors? What if there are more of those ‘Ubisee’ things around?”

“I tell you that there will be a lot more of those ‘Ubisee things’ around soon enough!” Belag said, stopping at the top of the ramp and turning to face the warrior-woman. “This was a single Quorum, but as soon as the other Quorums get word of what happened here, they’re going to know it was one of us who did this. . and it won’t take them long to figure out that the only way we might have gone is through the Cragsway Pass.”

“And to Nothree,” Jugar said as he nodded.

“They’ve found us,” Belag said. “And our backs are to the sea.”