The Fire Dragon

And she wondered if she would ever get free of him.

Just at sunset the scouting parties returned to Maryn’s camp. Armed with Nevyn’s report, Maryn had sent Branoic with some of the silver daggers to the southeast, while a squad from Daeryc’s men had ridden straight east. Neither party had seen either half of Braemys’s army, which meant that the enemy was, most likely, making camp for the night.

‘I’ll wager they march here tomorrow, your highness,’ Branoic said. ‘This Braemys – he’s young, but he’s got a good head on his shoulders.’

‘So your betrothed told me once,’ Maryn said. ‘She knew him well, after all.’

‘I take it his highness discussed the matter with her?’

‘I did, truly. Why wouldn’t I?’

Branoic said nothing more, but his slight smile had turned dangerous. For a moment the two men stared at each other, their eyes narrow, their jaws tight-set, Maryn standing with his plaid cloak draped over one shoulder and his hands set on his hips, while Branoic, his clothes dust-stained, knelt at his feet. The other scouts, waiting behind Branoic, took a step back, but Maryn’s servant stopped, dead-still, at the mouth of the tent behind him. Nevyn felt a cold warning run down his back and strode forward, ready to intervene. His movement brought them both to their senses. Maryn forced out a smile and turned it impartially upon all of the waiting men, including Branoic.

‘Well done,’ the prince said. ‘Don’t let me keep you from your fires.’

‘My thanks, your highness.’ Branoic rose and bowed. ‘It’s been a long day’s ride.’

In the company of the other scouts Branoic strode off into the sea of tents. Maryn’s servant sighed aloud and darted away. Nevyn raised an eyebrow at Maryn, who shrugged.

‘My apologies,’ Maryn said. ‘I need to watch my tongue.’

‘A wise thought,’ Nevyn said.

‘That’s the worst of it, isn’t it? Being the prince, I mean. I’m not allowed to lapse like ordinary men.’

‘Even ordinary men need to watch their tongues now and again.’

Maryn gave him a sour smile, then turned and without another word ducked into his tent. In the gathering twilight Nevyn walked back to his own. The worst danger for the kingdom would arrive tomorrow with Braemys’s army, but the worst danger for the prince and those who loved him was waiting back in Dun Deverry.

Deep in the night, once the astral tide of Earth had settled into a steady flow, Nevyn scried again, and once again he found the two halves of Braemys’s army, one to the south, one to the east, camped under the stars without tents or campfires. They had sacrificed everything for speed. If Maryn had lacked the presence of a dweomermaster, he and his army would have found themselves caught between two forces like a bite of meat between two jaws.

As it was, of course, they were warned.

Well before dawn Maddyn woke. He sat up in the silent darkness of his tent and considered the odd sensation troubling him. In a few moments he realized that, for the first time in days, he felt hungry. Somewhere near at hand Branoic had left him a chunk of bread on just this chance, but he could see nothing but a triangle of lighter dark at the tent’s mouth.

‘Curse it all!’

Cautiously he got to his knees and began feeling the ground at the head of his blankets.

Behind him he heard a rustling and a sound that might have been a whisper. A silver glow cast sudden shadows. When he twisted round he saw his blue sprite, glowing like the moon and grinning at him.

‘My thanks,’ he said. ‘And there’s the bread.’

Branoic had left it wrapped in cloth upon his saddle, the only thing in the tent that would serve as a shelf. Maddyn found a covered tankard of watered ale nearby as well. With his sprite for company, Maddyn began dipping the bread in the ale and eating the moist bits, but he’d not got far into the chunk before he realized he was making a mistake. He tried a sip of plain ale and felt his stomach burn and twist.

‘So much for that.’

Maddyn wrapped the bread back up, then lay down again, but it took him a long while to sleep with his stomach cramping and complaining. When he finally dozed off, he dreamt of Aethan, lying dead on the battlefield, and woke in a cold sweat. This time, at least, dawn light streamed into the tent. From outside he heard voices, talking softly; then someone pulled the tent flap to one side and stuck his head in: Nevyn.

‘Ah,’ Nevyn said. ‘You’re awake.’

‘More or less, my lord.’ Maddyn sat up, then clutched his aching stomach with both arms. ‘I tried to eat somewhat in the night.’

‘With bad result, I see. The prince wants to see you.’

‘I’ll come out.’

Much to his relief, Maddyn found that he could crawl out of the tent with some effort and then, with Nevyn’s help, stand up. The prince had already donned his chain mail shirt, but the hood lay on his shoulders, and he wore no helm. In the dawn light his hair gleamed as if the sun itself were honouring him.

‘Don’t try to kneel or bow,’ Maryn said. ‘How do you fare?’

‘Not so well, your highness, I’m afraid.’

‘You look pale about the mouth still,’ Nevyn put in. ‘After the army rides out, I’ll have a better look at you.’

‘My thanks, my lord.’

‘Mine, too,’ the prince said, nodding Nevyn’s way. ‘I wanted to see you, Maddo, because I was just remembering how you and the silver daggers smuggled me from Pyrdon to Cerrmor, all those years ago. We had so little then, do you remember? And we hadn’t the slightest idea of what we were riding into.’

‘So we hadn’t.’ Maddyn smiled, the first time he’d felt like doing so in some days. ‘And you slept on the ground like an ordinary rider.’

‘I did.’ The prince smiled in return. ‘I remember sharing a fire with you and Branoic.’ The smile vanished, and for a moment the prince was silent. ‘Ah well,’ he said at last, ‘Long time ago now, but that ride began everything. And so I wanted to come thank you now that we’re about to end the matter.’ Maryn held out his hand. ‘I only wish that Caradoc were here.’

‘So do I, my liege, so do I.’

As he shook hands with the prince, Maddyn felt tears in his eyes, mourning not only Caradoc but all the men the silver daggers had lost in one battle or another. It had been a long road that they’d travelled to bring the prince to his rightful wyrd.

‘Well,’ the prince said, ‘I’d best be gone and let you rest. It’s time to get our men ready to march.’

Nevyn left with the prince, and Maddyn crawled back into his tent and lay down. The canvas roof, glowing from the light outside, seemed to spin around him. He’d not eaten a true meal in days, but was it hunger making him so light-headed? He doubted it. More likely it was the grief of war.

Nevyn accompanied the prince back to the royal tent. Out in front of it, his vassals were gathering to receive their orders for the battle ahead. Gwerbret Daeryc and Gwerbret Ammerwdd stood in front of the huge red and white banners of the wyvern throne, and the rising sun gilded their mail and glittered on their sword hilts. Behind them stood the tieryns, and behind them, the men who could only claim a lordship for their rank.

‘Good morrow, my lords,’ Maryn said, grinning. ‘Shall we go for a bit of a ride on this lovely morning?’

Some laughed, some cheered him.

‘Very well,’ Maryn went on. ‘We’re dividing our army to match Lord Braemys’s little plan.’

Nevyn merely listened as they worked out the battle plan. Gwerbret Ammerwdd would command approximately half the army and station it, looking east, across the main road. The other half, with Maryn in charge, would make its stand facing south at the rear of the other. As an extra precaution, Maryn decided to send some twenty men a few miles north to keep a watch for any further cleverness that Nevyn’s night travels might have missed.

‘Good idea,’ Gwerbret Daeryc said. ‘I don’t trust this son of a Boar.’

‘Indeed.’ Daeryc glanced at Ammerwdd. ‘The crux is this. Your men have to hold until Braemys charges the prince. We can’t be turning our line to join your fight until then.’

‘I’m well aware of that.’ Ammerwdd’s voice turned flat. ‘And I think our prince knows he may trust me on the matter.’

‘Of course!’ Maryn stepped in between them. ‘I have the highest regard for both of you.’ All at once he grinned. ‘I think me Lord Braemys is in for a bit of a surprise.’