B.T.V. -- Session 05 Prologue: Dragon's Hand

“Not bad at all.”


“Su, you’ve done better than I expected.”


“I’m pleased you’re both pleased.”


The three draegerans were eating from what Ondoava had managed to pilfer from the dead bodies lying inside the ruined stable. Draegerans with a more refined sense of propriety, cleanliness or smell might be against eating surrounded by the wet dead that lay strewn around the ruined building’s interior but not these three.


Ondoava, a Lyorn, wasn’t the leader excepting in moments like this, as she was the best scrounger in the raider cohort. When it came to getting what a person could want at any given time, Ondoava was the one most went to. She also could handle a cook fire, kitchen or not. She brandished a seared but too-thin leg of some bird as she spoke. Occasional forceful thrusts of the drumstick were made with a dagger master’s flair to emphasize her points.


“Gods know where we are. When the Skyland fell I was between two hay bales, under a Brunya who was under a roof beam.”


“I’m as lost with it as you. I saw through a window that we were tilted in the direction of Adrilankha but that was at least twenty seconds before we struck land. It’s luck that there was so much hay about the place and that we look to have fallen in a bog.” This was Milliyan. He was Yendi, a specialist spearman and the most capable tracker of the three. Normally he had perfectly good vision, but the landing had given him a knock next to an eye and the swelling had closed it.



“You look like you’re in on a secret you’d like to share with that wink on your face. Hah! You’d be collected by the blue coats just for walking past ‘em.” Shuutak was a Jhegaala. He was mean in every way except when it came to being generous with either his violent temperament or lathering on blows from his spike-tailed flail. He had some training as a battlefield sorcerer.


“Adrlankha is a long way from here.”


Shuutak offered, “More is the pity. I could go a proper bath.”


“I agree — I could go you having a bath as well.” said Milliyan.


“Keep your funny mouth for talking muck to others. I’m all that is between you and your being one of these.” Shuutak motioned to the still dripping dead lying around them and their makeshift dining table. They’d formed it from three broken shields and the anvil of the stable that the building had been minutes before.



The ruin of the stable was complete. The descent had not been from high, no more than several hundred feet, but the impact had been telling given the severe angle the skyland had struck. Whatever had been on the land where it had hit would have been destroyed too. From what the three had seen there hadn’t been any inhabitations beneath where they’d come down, unless the broken phoenix nest Milliyan had found counted as one. The three draegerans had elected to stay put as they were confident someone must have seen the skyland’s fall. A search party from their cohort could be counted on to come to investigate. If not, locals might come along having seen the fall. Both possibilities were fine with them. They’d be collected and get back to camp or they’d take prisoners and get them to tell where the cohort could be found. There was the third possibility that the single knellbird that had landed within the stable might have managed a sending to whatever nearby spirit wardens there were in these parts. The bird would have had to have been quick. Shuutak had struck it dead with his flail. Ondoava had cooked it. All three preferred fowl to horse meat, of which there was plenty lying about.



Ondoava said, “What do you suppose the result was?”



“What else?” Said Shuutak. “We’ve smashed them. There’s no chance that the Brunya could have stopped us.”



“Excellent, a complete victory and we’re the only losses.” said Milliyan.



“I'm not so sure about complete victory. Can we know for certain that the Brunya didn’t bring down the skyland? If they did, they might have done so to the fort, as well. The cohort was there in force.”



Shuutak said, “If.”



Ondoava gesticulated with the knellbird wing, “Somebody did it. Skylands don’t fall from the wind. It has to be someone’s decanting at work.”



Milliyan said, “As long as it was work for whoever and not play.”



Shuutak snorted. Ondoava glared at him. Milliyan eyed Ondoava.


The wind entered through fractured walls bringing the marsh scents of mallow flower bloom and fern spore. All three drew their cloaks about them against the damp coolness. Milliyan also raised a neck cloth to cover his nose. He had never trusted the wilds, being born of the capital. Shuutak and Ondoava were from close on the Red City. This meant they were more used to living outside of a settlement or inside of buildings that didn’t have all their walls or a roof. The Red City was the greatest ruin on Axildusk and the former throne city of the empire. The swamps of the former capital were foetid and large. The clean marsh they were surrounded by presently was of no concern to anyone but Milliyan.


There was a splash. Shuutak was already close to the wall nearest the source of the sound before either of the others could move much. He motioned them to stay and be still. A smaller, sucking sound came from the other side of Shuutak’s cover. Milliyan raised his short bow. His bow hand held four arrows. Shuutak nodded at him. They’d fought together many times. Shuutak knew that Milliyan could make people believe his bow was alive. Shuutak almost believed it too.


Shuutak lobbed a piece of rubble over the wall where the noise hadn’t come from. The expected splash was more a squelch but the effect was good enough. Milliyan barely rose from his crouch but moved rapidly beyond the wall and into the shallows. Shuutak rattled his flail’s chains to mask Milliyan’s splashes.


Three arrows were fired. Two struck a figure sending it to the marsh water. The third sailed high enough to miss but only because the two had struck and reduced the target’s height.


“You can have another arrow at you if you want to collect more of them.”


A pained female voice said, “Fool that you are, I might tell you to finish what you’ve started. If I survive, I will report your attack to my master.”



Ondoava threw the knellbird wing into the fire and said, “Why didn’t you announce you were approaching? We would have let you in. We have no quarrel with the wardens.”



Shuutak said, “Had.”



“Don’t help me.”



“He’s right. I cannot allow this to go by without reporting it, blunted arrows or not.”



Ondoava said, “Come close to the fire at least? We’ve food and it’s somewhat out of the wind. I can give you some salve and see if Mil has put any holes in your vellum.”



“Food? I could use that. I have not eaten today.”



“Why is that?”



“I left hurriedly. It is unheard of for anyone to die out here. My commander wanted the attacks seen about. There was no time for proper provisioning. I ate as I travelled. I knew it would mean a day or two without. ‘Scetique, I said to myself, you are going to eat a huge plate of fried hounds when you get back to The Soldiers’ Bedroll’. The ‘Roll makes a fine plate of hounds. Out here there aren’t places to eat. I’m not a hunter.”



Shuutak said, “Stop. We don’t need your birth details.”



Onadoava brushed his comment aside, “What do you make of it, Warden Scetique?” She knew the causes of the deaths. She was interested in how close this spirit warden might be able to get.



“May I look ‘round?”



She nodded for all of them. The woman moved off toward what had been the front of the stables, a large space. Ondoava knew she and Milliyan had taken care of half a dozen Brunya tribesmen there.



“These Brunya weren’t killed by the landing. I don’t see a spearman among the three of you. There are no prints of a fourth person... Perhaps they fell away from the skyland as it came down? I don’t think that they — ah, the spearman moved. He seems to have gone to the entry doors. Oh, more tribesmen. Not all Brunya. One is a Griz. The footsteps here are a jumble. The spearman moves well at this point. He’s trained and experienced too.”



Onadoava hadn’t had much to do with wardens. The few she’d spent time with weren’t as talkative as Scetique was. She found herself interested in how she knew what Milliyan could do although the warden didn’t know it was his doing yet. “Does the spearman kill all of them?”



“Ah, n’las. A couple of them show signs of strangulation. Not likely to be a spearman doing that. The marks are by a finer hand than I’d mark the spearman for. I could be wrong as some males have a fine-boned hand, but I’d be inclined to think a woman did the strangling. The spearman’s stature is on the smaller side of things. His stride, here where his foot has described an arc on the dirt, is not as long as most. The arc reveals that what I suggested about his ability and training. An unusual move to make. Risky I’d say, understanding he was involved with at least two or three Brunya. There’d be little room for such sweeping movements. Perhaps his shorter than average stature allowed him to attempt the move? I see no change in his footsteps nor blood afterwards, so I believe he managed this unscathed.”



Onadoava knew exactly the move the warden was trying to describe. She’d seen Milliyan use it many times. Everyone knew wardens understood death. She hadn’t realised how well they might understand what leads to it. “You are skilled in putting the fight together. Why are you trained for this?”



“It allows me to serve my master well... These Brunya are meant to be serious warriors. The spearman and his lady strangler companion must have been elite.”


Ondoava said, “You hear that, MIl? Those that did this must be elite.”



“Elite? That’s usually a word for describing nobles. Elite warriors. They should get a rise in pay from their officers.”


”Scetique, what else can you discern about these two warriors? Is there more your warden’s art can reveal? I notice you haven’t invoked any spirits. Is that something only certain situations require? I’m fascinated by what you types get up to. You all spend so much time indoors and away from everybody. It has to be odd to only get about when someone has died?” Ondoava said this with the occasional wink to Milliyan. She was enjoying the warden’s assumption that the three of them had come along after the tribesmen had be slain.


“I am most interested in why the Brunya chose to fight at all. The skyland lost its balance and yet they fought with their assailants. I would have expected self-preservation would have taken over. Look here. This one has a spear still in her. Spear embedded in the post. Shaft bent by the force of the land’s and skyland’s collision. Gore all along the weapon. Butt of the spear lodged solidly in the ground. Body too. The spear must have struck her as the collision happened, driving her forcefully down the entire length of the shaft, to where she is now. She’d have been impaled as the skyland descended. The spearman must have managed to get the blunt end to the ground. The Brunya was thrust downward on impact. They were at each other all the way down. Brunya killed on impact. Serious hatred. The spearman must have survived the stop. I see no sign of more than him going to the ground next to her body. He rolled away though. Came to his feet here. This is interesting. He makes a throwing motion. Too big a stride for a knife or bola. Not a sling either. The weight on the toe is wrong. He must have had another spear to throw. That Brunya over there would have been the target. Killed because he’d survived the fall. No sign of that spear though. Intriuging.”


Ondoava nudged Milliyan. The warden was a better tracker than anybody she’d seen – even Milliyan. Scetique might as well have seen what they had done. Her description was an uncanny witnessing. Milliyan nodded thoughtfully back to Ondoava.


“Next you’ll be telling us what these elite warriors wore for armour and who they last hugged.” Ondoava laughed.


“N’las I’m only able to do that if I cast. It’s tiring to decant. As I haven’t eaten, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea.”


“That’s a shame. You’re good at reading these signs. Not sure I’ve seen anyone as good as you at it. Your commander must find you useful. I wager you get all the toughest inquiries?”


“My commander uses me as he sees fit.”


“Truth is, I’m surprised someone of your ability is so far from a city. Couldn’t the wardens use you there to better purpose?”


“I’ve never considered that before. An interesting idea. A city...”


“Su, like the capitals. Here or even Karrion or Adrilankha. You’d be well-in in those places. Jhereg to uncover. Noblemen to find. You might do well enough that you’d be offered a position outside of the wardens, eh? Imagine your funds. You should think about it, as you haven’t before.”


“What of loyalty to a cause? I couldn’t leave my commander after all he’s done for me.”


“Heh yes, he’ll value your loyalty to your death. Then he’ll get himself a new tracker. That suits you, eh?”


“You talk like someone who knows. You must have travelled a fair bit? To these large capitals?”


“Su. Mil and ‘Takker and I have been to Adrilankha several times. The drinks there are rich, the food richer and the nobles richest of all. Whatever of the three interest you, you can find in abundance there. Quite the place for a woman of ability.”


“A woman, like me.”


“Su, or a woman, like me. I prefer the first I mentioned. Drinks at the playhouse on the nights given over to gaming. I met a minstrel there who I made liberal with drink and sheared for all his imps. He became cross to say the least. He went from jolly to sorry and I the opposite.”


“Sounds like you are a skillful bettor.”


“I like dice.”


“Made from?”


“Eh?”


“Some like metal ones... For durability. Some like crystal... Something about the way the faces catch the ghost light. Others prefer wood... It’s lightest and makes for easy transport and replacement. Best of all are bone. They have a great balance between heft, trueness and connection to their thrower. I observed that this last might be due to their former living nature. Bone is the last part of the body to depart, is it not?”


Ondoava didn’t know what to say to this. Milliyan offered, “You know about dice? Why? Wardens aren’t known for gambling.”


“I see, you’re confused. I’m no gambler. I’ve never even thrown dice. I met a Shahasan some months ago. He and I were going the same way. We walked for almost a week. He explained the intricacies of dice games to me. I’ve never met anybody since who liked such games of skill.”


“Skill? You mean, chance.”


“N’las. The Shahasan was quite, distinctly repetitive in calling dice, a game of skill. It was said so often it has stuck in my recollection.”


Ondoava had recovered from her surprise, “Shahasans. You’ve been silly there. You should be more careful who you talk to on the roads you walk. They're not to be trusted. They’re best when dead. They’re overly fond of females you know?”


“I found him a good travelling companion. He spoke entertainingly of his life and activities. He made a decent meal with very few ingredients. Most importantly his snoring kept us unbothered each night that we slept. Unlike others’ snores, the Shahasan’s were melodic. I found sleep easy as the sound was soothing and kept whatever was out at night away from our camp.”


“Like I said, you shouldn’t be with tribesmen. They’re trouble. They’re not going to be allowed the freedoms the empress has given them for much longer. You’re not the only silly woman around. She’s been too soft on them. There’s more of them now than ever. When our master has -- “.


“ -- called for us, we must answer.” interjected Milliyan.


“Your master? Who is he?”


“Peloi e’N’varr. You would know of him.”


“Su. A capable commander. Many skyships in his fleet. He commands the Raid Fleets. Ruthless in his pursuits. A vagab --.”


“Have some care, warden. We’re his raiders. He’s our master, su?”


“Your pardon but I am only repeating what others have told me of him. I have formed no opinion of my own.”

“I’d care anyway.” said Shuutak, who had left the other part of the stable, deciding to get involved with the woman. “You’ll breathe longer that way.”


“A longer period between each breath or do you mean only each exhalation will take more time?”


Shuutak looked disgustedly at the other raiders. “Do we need to keep this with us?”


Ondoava said, “I’ve enjoyed our chat but it’s time for you to collect what you came for and move on, warden. Raiders are on their way here to get us. You shouldn’t be here when they arrive.”


“It would be abrupt to leave without what I came here to discover. I have to learn what happened here.”


“Look, you need to go. I’m... we’re insisting. Do you get it?”


“The deaths here. I need to uncover which were killed by the impact and which were not. Additionally, there is the matter of the killers of those who did not die from the impact. It’s important for me to know.”

Ondoava didn’t get to say anything as Shuutak spoke, “These two killed them all. She’s your strangler and he’s your spearman. None were alive when we struck land.”


Milliyan laughed at the woman’s face. Ondoava smiled slightly, “There, you know what you wanted to know. Leave. Go the way you came as you know that way better.”


“I shall, but how did you survive the impact?”


“The hay was in bales. It isn’t now. It broke the best part of our fall. As your Shahasan friend might say, ‘luck was with us’.”


“He didn’t hold with luck being involved with much at all. Luck has not played a role in your being alive either.”


“No? Well, here we are, so …"


“I caused the skyland to fall. They don’t just lose their means of staying aloft, you know. I meant for you to survive. You have. If I hadn’t put myself to keeping you three alive, you’d be dead.”


Alarmed by the woman’s tone, the three raiders summoned their calling weapons. They were shocked by what they’d heard but not to the point of being immobilized. The woman in front of them began to change. She grew indistinct -- blurry as if she was being smeared by a decanter’s pallet knife against the canvas of reality. When she was defined again, she looked entirely different. Her voice had changed too. It transfixed them as they heard the voice’s words and they knew them to be truer than any words not secretly spoken to themsleves.


“I am the Red Khakhan.

You will do as I instruct.”


Ondoava had barely shouted ‘Never’, when the Khakhan dislocated the raider woman’s spine with a red, gloved hand. Ondoava fell.


“You two must choose. Life in my master’s service or the life she will live from this time onward.”


Milliyan nodded silently in acquiescence.


Shuutak said, “What about our master. If he hears of our betrayal, he will kill us.”


The Red Khakhan said, “If.”