Rage of the Dragon

BOOK 2
CHAPTER 12

Raegar looked powerful and magnificent standing at the prow of the war galley, his clenched fist raised to heaven, calling down the curse of Aelon upon the Venjekar, the dragonship that had humiliated them. The men on board the war galley were impressed and they watched in silence to see if Aelon would respond.

Nothing happened. The ship sailed away, bound on a course that would carry Skylan and the Vektia spiritbone back to Vindraholm. The soldiers-Temple guards, Aelon’s chosen-either didn’t think much of Aelon or they had lost faith in his Warrior-Priest, for they cast dark glances at Raegar and muttered among themselves. Though he was a Warrior-Priest, he was also an outsider, a foreigner, and he had conjured up a dragon, a dangerous and terrifying beast. Most felt they were lucky the dragon had not slain them all.

Raegar was a Vindrasi. He was accustomed to fighting alongside dragons and he had not, as Acronis had predicted, given any thought as to how the Sinarians aboard his ship would react to the sight of a dragon, especially after they had witnessed a dragon rain down death and destruction on their city of Sinaria. The fools had cheered when the dragon flew off in ignominious defeat. Then Raegar had been forced to waste precious time fishing Treia out of the sea. After that, the sailors had refused to continue their pursuit of the Venjekar. They were going home to their families-if they had any families left. Raegar had urged Captain Anker, commander of the Temple guards, to force the sailors at sword point to continue sailing the ship in pursuit of the Venjekar. In answer, Captain Anker had thrown his sword onto the deck.

“You do it,” he’d said to Raegar, and walked off.

Raegar realized he had been made to look foolish. He’d lost all the political capital he’d gained in Sinaria. He needed to win it back and, with Aelon’s help, he would.

Raegar paid no attention to his men. He continued to watch Skylan, his fair-haired cousin, beloved of the gods. Beloved of old, toothless, decrepit gods. Raegar had faith in Aelon. He waited to see what would happen.

The Venjekar slowed. The ship was turning, sailing off on a new course-heading for the ogre ship that had been dogging it. Raegar was puzzled and wary. What was Skylan up to? Was he plotting to join with the ogres and come after Aelon’s Triumph? Raegar raised the spyglass. He was not an experienced sailor, but even he could tell that the ogre ship was sinking.

“By god! Look at that!” Captain Anker shouted.

His face was pale beneath his weather-beaten tan, his eyes wide and staring. Men all over the ship were crying out in alarm. Raegar shifted the spyglass in time to see the enormous tentacles of the kraken wrap around the ogre ship and crush it. Another tentacle seized hold of the Venjekar and dragged it beneath the waves. The water boiled furiously for a moment and then grew calm. Nothing was left of either ship except a few pieces of cracked timber.

Raegar lowered the spyglass. He did not turn around.

“Praise Aelon!” he cried.

All he heard was silence and then came the sound of men dropping to their knees. A few shouted, “Praise Aelon,” but most were too awed to speak.

Raegar turned around slowly, gazing at the soldiers and sailors who, moments earlier, had reviled him and who now were regarding him with almost worshipful respect. Treia, wet and bedraggled, stood with her mouth open, blinking, stunned.

“Witness the power of Aelon!” Raegar cried with a sweep of his arm. “He has destroyed our enemies with a single blow! We will sail back to Sinaria, praising Aelon’s name, and we will bury our dead and rebuild our city! For Aelon’s glory!”

“For Aelon’s glory!” the men cried.

The sailors went to work with a will. Aelon granted them a fair wind. They had no need of rowers, which was good, since many of them were injured and their oars broken.

Raegar was well pleased with himself and with Aelon. He was in an excellent mood and disposed to be generous to Treia. She had been the cause of the disaster that had leveled Sinaria and killed thousands, that was true. But if it hadn’t been for this disaster, Raegar would still be a Warrior-Priest, carrying out the dirty work of Priest-General Xydis.

Now Xydis was dead. Raegar had long nurtured the ambition of one day rising to the office of Priest-General. The road to the fulfillment of his ambition had been long and winding and steep, blocked by rock falls and gaping pits. Holding the body of the Priest-General in his arms that terrible night, Raegar had seen the road to success suddenly flatten out, with almost all impediments swept away. The god, it seemed, was pleased with him. True to the fighting spirit of the Vindrasi, he stood on the smoldering rubble of his city and wondered how he could use this to his advantage.

The survivors would be left in disarray, bewildered and terrified, in desperate need. They would be searching for someone to lead them and, with the Priest-General dead and the Empress dead and no heir and no appointed successor, Sinaria was up for grabs.

Captain Anker stood before him, head bowed. He humbly begged Raegar’s pardon and asked what he could do. Raegar waved a magnanimous hand.

“I’m going below,” he announced. “Summon me when we reach port.”

He walked across the deck, feeling all eyes on him, feeling the respect, the fear. Word would spread when they reached Sinaria. The people would hear how Raegar had asked Aelon for a miracle and the god had granted his request.

He stood for a moment, basking in the sunlight, and then he went below to deal with Treia.