A Birthright of Blood (The Dragon War, Book 2) by Daniel Arenson Page B
Authors: Daniel Arenson
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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
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
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