A Birthright of Blood (The Dragon War, Book 2) (7 page)

When she walked closer, Erry saw
the phalanx training in the dirt outside. A hundred perivas and
corelis—younger soldiers sporting only one or two stars—stood in
black steel, swinging swords. The clashing blades rang. A hulking
siragi—an older, gruffer soldier with three stars upon his
armbands—was moving between the lower ranks, barking at soldiers to
correct their stances and thrusts.

Behind the troops, upon a
boulder, stood Lanse Tilla Siren.

Erry's heart skipped a beat.

Stars
,
she thought and felt herself pale.

She hadn't seen Tilla in six
moons, not since the battle here. But Tilla looked like she'd aged
six years. Soldiers like Erry wore breastplates, vambraces, and
greaves over tan leggings and tunics. Tilla now wore the full plate
suit of an officer; the steel covered her from toes to shoulders,
perfectly molded to her body. Her pauldrons displayed red
spirals—the insignia of command. She did not bear the simple sword
of a common soldier anymore, but a fine weapon with a dragonclaw
pommel.

Upon her hip, she bore a
punisher. Erry gulped. The wounds across her, those her former
officer had given her, blazed anew. Did Tilla too punish soldiers
with this weapon of lightning and pain? Erry remembered how Lanse
Nairi had nearly killed Tilla with her punisher. Did Tilla herself
now torture others?

But worse than the punisher was
Tilla's face. Erry felt ice fill her belly. Tilla had always seemed
pale and aloof, but this… this was different.

No color touched Tilla's face
now; she could have been carved from marble. No emotion or life
filled her eyes. As she stared upon her troops training, her eyes
were dead. Cold. Hard as stone.

She
looks like that statue of Frey that stands in Cadport,
Erry thought and shivered.
She
seems just as cold and cruel. Stars, what happened to her at Castra
Academia? How, in only six moons, did they freeze her eyes?

When Erry stepped closer to the
phalanx, Tilla turned those cold eyes toward her, and their gazes
locked.

Erry smiled and waved, expecting
Tilla to smile too, to greet her, maybe even to rush forward and
embrace her. But still no emotion filled those dark eyes. Erry
didn't even see a flicker of recognition within them. Her heart
sank.

Stars,
doesn't she remember me?

Then
Erry realized: Of course! Of course Tilla could not rush toward
her, embrace her, or even acknowledge her. She was leading her own
phalanx now! She had to act aloof. She had to be strong like Nairi
had been. But it was all an act for her soldiers. It had to be.

Erry sucked in her breath,
slammed her fist against her chest, and called out.

"Hail the red spiral! I am
Periva Erry Docker. I report to duty." She raised her scroll.
"I've come from Castra Lan. I'm to serve in the Sea Cannons."

Tilla's eyes narrowed the
slightest bit, a movement so subtle Erry wasn't sure it even
happened.

For the first time, Tilla spoke.

"Step forward, periva.
Hand me that scroll."

Stars!
Erry thought. Tilla's voice was even colder than her eyes. It
didn't even sound human; it was the voice of a statue. Erry gulped,
suddenly not sure this was an act at all. Briefly, she wondered if
she had even found the right officer. Was this truly Tilla or simply
somebody who looked like her?

Erry stepped forward and held
out her scroll.

Everybody was watching them, she
realized. The soldiers of the phalanx, a hundred men and women in
steel, had stopped drilling and stared.

Tilla looked toward them, and
her eyes narrowed further. "Keep drilling!" she shouted,
and her voice rolled across the camp. "Do you think the
Resistance is standing around gawking?"

The swords began to swing again.
The men were hulking warriors, many of them standing well over six
feet tall, their frames burly. Yet even they looked sheepish as
Tilla commanded them.

Merciful
stars,
Erry thought.
She's
even harder than Nairi.

Tilla marched toward her, boots
thudding, and snatched the scroll from Erry's hands. She scanned the
writing quickly, then stared into Erry's eyes.

"Says here you're a
troublemaker," Tilla said, scrutinizing Erry. "Says here
you break swords, lose helmets, and earned the punisher every day.
What makes you think you can serve here, soldier?"

Erry
gasped. She wanted to shake Tilla madly, to scream at her.
Don't
you remember me? You think I'm just some… some troublemaker
soldier? I'm your friend! I'm Erry from Cadport!

She glanced back at the drilling
soldiers and forced herself to take a shaky breath.

It's
just an act,
she told herself.
It
has to be. She's just acting this way for her troops.

"Don't look at them,
soldier!" Tilla barked. "I asked you a question. Look at
me and answer."

Erry couldn't help it now. She
gave a shaky laugh.

"Stars, Tilla," she
whispered and shook her head. "Don't you remember me? It's
Erry."

Tilla hissed. Her eyes blazed.
She looked so much like a rabid wolf that Erry took a step back.

"Into my tent, soldier,"
Tilla hissed. "Go!"

With that, the young officer
spun around and marched into her tent. Shakily, Erry followed her
into the shadows, leaving the phalanx to drill outside.

Inside the tent, Erry saw a cot,
a small table and chair, and a wooden chest. It was a small tent,
maybe nine by nine feet, a retreat for an officer to find privacy
from those she commanded.

Finally
Tilla can drop her act,
Erry thought.

"Well, this is nice,
Tilla!" she said and allowed herself a hesitant smile. "Sure
beats the old dirt we used to sleep on, right?" She reached for
an apple on the table. "And they give you apples! Stars, I
should become an officer too. I—"

"You
will refer to me as
Commander
,"
Tilla said, eyes blazing. "Or you will refer to me as Lanse
Tilla. Do you understand, soldier?"

Erry froze, the apple halfway to
her mouth, and frowned.

"By
the Abyss!" she said. "All right,
Commander
."
Erry laughed shakily. "You… you remember me, don't you?
I—"

Tilla snarled. Erry could not
believe it. The young woman—her best friend!—snarled at her. Her
lips peeled back, her teeth showed, and she growled like a wolf.

"Do not test my patience,"
she said. "I remember you, Docker. We trained together, yes.
You know it. I know it. Those days are over." Tilla took a
step forward, towering over the smaller Erry. "I am your
commanding officer. That's all I am to you now. Do you understand?"

Erry stood frozen, almost too
shocked to breathe.

Merciful
stars,
she thought.
What
did they do to her at the academy?

Her eyes burned, and Erry tossed
down her apple in disgust. She spat on the floor.

"Well,
dog dung,
Commander
,"
she said, spitting out that last word like an insult. "You
might remember me, but do you remember yourself? Do you remember who
you are?"

Tilla clutched her punisher, and
its tip crackled to life. "Be careful, periva. Be careful
that—"

Erry snorted. "You think
I'm scared of you, Tilla? You're just a common, seaside ropemaker's
daughter from Cadport. Bloody stars, you and I pissed in the woods
together. Now you act all high and mighty?" She laughed
mirthlessly, and her eyes would not stop stinging. "Sweaty
codpieces, Tilla! Don't you remember? I came here to serve with you
again. Like in the old days. Like—"

Tilla drew her punisher.
Lightning wreathed its tip.

"I will tell you this once
more, periva," Tilla said. "Those days are over. You are
no longer a recruit, but a soldier with insignia on your arms. I am
no longer the woman you knew. I am your commander now and your
officer. Salute me, hail the red spiral, and pray that I forget your
words here today. Anyone else would hang for them. This is the one
mercy I will show you."

Erry looked at the drawn
punisher and barked a laugh.

"What are you going to
do—burn me?" She snorted. "Go shove that thing up your
fat arse, Roper."

Tilla moved so fast Erry barely
saw it. The punisher drove forward. Lightning raced across Erry's
breastplate, pain flared, and she screamed.

Her old officer had burned her
before, short blasts that made her yelp and jump. Tilla was crueler.
She kept her punisher against her, driving all its pain into Erry's
armor, flesh, and bones. Tears ran down her cheeks. She fell to her
knees. When Tilla finally pulled the punisher back, Erry doubled
over, panting and spitting.

"If you will serve under my
command, periva," Tilla spoke above, "you will show me
respect, or you will burn."

Erry stared up, wincing. Stars
floated across the tent. Tilla stood above her, her punisher still
drawn, her eyes still dead.

Erry struggled to her feet.

She raised her chin, only as
tall as Tilla's shoulders, but stretched to every inch of height she
had. She slammed a trembling fist against her breastplate.

"I
salute," she said through stiff lips. "I salute Cadport.
I salute the friend I once had. And I salute the memory of Mae
Baker, a memory you shame." She spat on Tilla's boots. "And
you,
Commander
,
can go lick horse dung."

With that, she fled the tent,
shifted into a dragon, and took flight.

She soared above the clearing.
She heard shouts, roars, and flapping wings behind her. Erry didn't
bother looking back. She was among the slimmest, fastest dragons in
the Legions. If she did not want to be caught, she wouldn't. She
streamed over the forest and blazed fire skyward.

Damn
you, Tilla,
she thought. Her eyes dampened and she spewed her flame.
Damn
you to the Abyss, and damn these Legions, and damn you, Mae, for
dying, and damn you this stupid, stupid war.

She didn't know where to go now.
She didn't care. She'd had enough of forts. She'd had enough of
damn commanders. She'd had enough of this whole damn world.

Erry Docker howled and flew into
the horizon, tears in her eyes and fire in her throat.

 
 
RUNE

They climbed the hill, rose from
the cover of trees, and beheld a canyon that halved the land.

"Cain's Canyon," Rune
whispered, the wind billowing his cloak and hair. "Burn me,
it's larger than I imagined. All of Lynport could fit in there."

At his side, Valien nodded and
scratched his grizzled stubble. "Aye, and Lord Cain will brag
to you about it, wait and see. 'All the people of Cadport could fit
into my canyon!' he boasts to all who visit. The man's been hunkered
down in there for years, and he never forgave Lynport for calling
itself the Jewel of the South. He sees himself as a southern lord
and Lynport as stealing his glory."

Rune sighed. "If he saw
Lynport now, its homes rotten and its port dead, maybe he'd feel less
jealous."

Valien raised an eyebrow. "Lord
Devin Cain lives in a hole in the ground—literally. I think even a
barren boardwalk is enough to stir his jealousy." Valien hefted
his pack over his shoulders, rattling its pans and knives. "Come
now, it's still a long walk there among the trees, and I dare not fly
yet. The Legions patrol these skies too."

Rune stood for a moment upon the
hilltop, staring down over the trees at the canyon. It stretched
across the land as far as he could see. The forest plunged into it,
trees tilting over its rim, roots sticking out like hair over a scar.
Mist floated within its depths, and flocks of birds flew over the
shadows, their cries echoing. Rune had seen wonders before: the
towering Ralora Cliffs over the sea, the lost glory of Confutatis in
the east, and the clock tower of Castra Luna. Yet he thought Cain's
Canyon the greatest among them, certainly the largest; he could
probably fit all those other wonders into its depths.

"Rune!" Valien's
raspy voice rose from the trees coating the hillside below. "Come,
follow. You're too visible up there."

Rune too hefted his pack,
gripped the hilt of his Amber Sword, and began climbing downhill.

They walked between the trees in
silence. They had been walking through this forest for three days
now, leaving their camp far behind. Since abandoning Castra Luna,
the Resistance had been hiding in the western forests of Old
Salvandos, a lush wilderness of oaks, pines, and maples so thick no
scouts could see through the treetops. Three thousand resistors
still hid in their camp, living in holes, treetop nests, and hidden
burrows.

Rune had found the camp a
blessed change from the ruins of Confutatis, the fallen city where
the Resistance had once hidden. The Legions had taken three
resistors alive at Castra Luna and flown them north to the capital.
That meant three bodies had been tortured, and three mouths had
screamed of their old camp. And so, for several moons now, the
Resistance had hidden in the wilderness. Their new forest home was
humble, but green and safe. Walking here with Valien, Rune missed
it. He missed his warm underground burrow with its soft bed of
leaves. He missed drinking ale with his fellow resistors and
whispering old stories of Requiem. And he missed Kaelyn.

You
wait for me there, Kaelyn,
Rune thought.
Watch
over our people.
He squared his jaw.
I'll
be back with aid. I promise you. I promise.

"Rune!"
rose the voice ahead, and Valien's leathery face peered from between
the trees, framed with shaggy hair. "Move your arse. We have
little time to spare."