Ryuu no Hikou, 9/?

[Goldilocks]

Okay...so it's been a long, long, long, long, LONG time since I posted a new chapter to this fic. ^^;; About a year, to be exact. I won't bore you with the details; the bottom line is that I needed to take a vacation from writing for a while. I think I'm ready to start again, and I celebrate my return to writing by posting a new chapter! ^^

I'll be surprised if anyone remembers this fic. For those who'd like to catch up on past chapters, they're all archived in my forum in the Author's Forum (Sara), or, here's a link: http://blissfulignorance.com/phpBB/view ... b7b06021fb (I hope that works).

Anyway, without further ado...

Ryuu no Hikou
A Gundam Wing fic by Sara
Standard disclaimers apply.

Chapter 9

It laughed.

"It seems the master is happy today," murmured d'Urmeil. Even from his position quite far away from Its lair, he could tell that the Great Evil, as Its subjects were wont to refer to It in whispered tones behind hands, was mirthful.

It was the best way to describe the feeling. The residents in the castle where the Great Evil dwelt never really knew peace or contentment, but they could tell when It was pleased or displeased. For a moment, the populace breathed a slight sigh of relief; if the Great Evil was mirthful, then It would not be inclined to kill or destroy any of them to satisfy Its rage.

d'Urmeil was more relaxed than usual as he walked down the long-familar hallway toward the room where the Great Evil rested. He knew that he would never be destroyed in a fit of rage by his master, but underneath that slight assurance was a greater fear. He had lived under the reign of the Great Evil for many years, and he knew that there were much, much worse fates than death that one could face.

He allowed his mind to wander. No one really could remember when the Great Evil had come to power; time had seemingly ceased to have meaning since Its stay. None could concretely say how long it had been; some said that centuries had slipped away thusly; others claimed that barely a handful of years had passed. d'Urmeil himself believed that it had been slightly more than one handspan's worth of counting; he could vaguely remember a time when the Great Evil had not been in control, though the memory was very faint, as though it were something from a dream, or from his very early childhood.

Few people knew much about the Great Evil. None knew where It had come from, or why It had decided to take over an-Mymar'alachvurdes and assume complete control of all within Its reach. Very few knew Its real name--d'Urmeil was one of a very small number--and this was deliberate. None knew Its age, and only those cursed with death were allowed to see Its true form. Even d'Urmeil did not know. He was the Great Evil's most trusted underling, and typically served as Its liasion in such matters, but he knew no more than the most lowly of servants. His fate was worse than some; he could not hide in a remote corner of the castle when the master's anger was so great that the very stones in the castle's foundation shook.

Some may think I have great luck, to be trusted so by the Master, d'Urmeil pondered, but it is not luck, as I see it. There are days when I cannot remember my age, or when I was born, or other seemingly simple things. Thus was the fate of those under the control of the Great Evil; Its power eventually corrupted and destroyed the mind. The affect was deliberate; It did not brook with uprisings or revolts, and so would slowly and systematically destroy the minds of Its minions, until they could barely think for themselves. d'Urmeil shuddered at the memory of a room where those tortured by dilligent mind deconstruction were housed; they were people who were so debilitated that they could not even perform basic functions necessary for life, and the Great Evil would watch them slowly wither away until their inevitable death....

He quickly snapped himself out of his introspective as he drew near the doors at the end of the dark hallway. Though the Great Evil was seemingly in high spirits today, that would not have dampened his observation in the slightest. It would know if anything mutinous were discussed within Its reaches.

"And so I see the Master calls Its precious pet to Its side once more," an all-too-familiar voice sneered from a dark alcove. "Why am I not surprised?"

d'Urmeil carefully schooled his features, but did not turn to face the voice. "Do you wish my fate, Tsubarov? My fate could easily be yours, and I would not weep to give it to you." He turned to regard the other man icily. "I could certainly put a pledge before the Master, and have our roles be switched."

"How touching," replied Tsubarov acidly. "Tell me, d'Urmeil, what desire would I have to bed a demon?" He examined his fingernails casually, mockery twined around the very arching of his fingers as he studiously avoided d'Urmeil's eyes. A smug smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. "I would have thought that someone of your supposed stature and upbringing would not pursue such an...unorthodox quarry, but I suppose there is no regarding for taste."

d'Urmeil gritted his teeth and forced himself to remain calm. Losing his temper so close to the Great Evil's lair would only brook punishment. "I do not believe that I should be expected to dignify such absurd allegations with a response," he replied shortly. "Now, if you would excuse me, I have important business to attend. Unless you had something urgent to present to me?"

Tsubarov gasped and brought a hand up to his chest in an exaggerated motion. "Why, my dear Florian, you wound me, utterly wound me," he said, his voice ingratiatingly polite. "And here I was, all prepared to give you more good information to pass along to the Master, but now I am not so certain I should waste my time, if you're just going to be rude about it."

"Don't waste my time, Nikolai. You know how the Master feels about delays."

"Fine, fine," grumbled Tsubarov, obviously put-out by the fact that he could not get a rise out of the other man. "I have information to pass along to the Master, myself. We may as well speak with It together." d'Urmeil shrugged noncommittally in response, and turned to face the doorway once again.

The two entered the room together, both falling silent as the darkness engulfed them. There was no time for such frivolities; no margin for error. In this room, they must present a unified front, or suffer the wrath of the Great Evil. Though for a change, the darkness did not seem inclined to scrutinize them for signs of dissent. Instead, It almost laughed as It rolled over them, and Its touch on their minds seemed almost inquisitive instead of intrusive.

They did not drop their guard for a moment.

d'Urmeil bowed stiffly, and after a moment's pause, Tsubarov followed suit. "I have news for you, my Lord," said d'Urmeil with respect.

The darkness paused. "Good news, I expect," It gloated, "for it most likely has much to do with my good mood."

d'Urmeil nodded and continued. "Our spies have indicated that one of the dragon-riders was seen in Ri Shin. They report that it seems his leaving was not entirely supported by Calon Gaer. In fact, if what was reported to us is correct, he left without any permission or askance whatsoever."

The darkness intensified, like a great beast holding Its breath in anticipation. d'Urmeil cleared his throat, straightened, and continued.

"We believe that the dragon-rider will be labeled a deserter," he finished with a slight smirk.

The darkness did laugh this time, a loud, booming sound that caused the men to cringe. "Wonderful!", It chortled, "So much better than I could have hoped. My plan has worked perfectly. With one dragon-rider demoralized, it will not take much to remove those who remain."

d'Urmeil cleared his throat. "My Lord, there is a chance, albeit a slight one, that Calon Gaer shall choose not to banish the dragon-rider," he said, speaking rapidly. "With such small numbers, they may be able to overlook insuboordination in an attempt to not lose any dragon-riders."

He quailed as he felt anger rising in the darkness. "You displease me, d'Urmeil."

"My Lord, I only report to you what I know. It would not do for us to ignore possibilities because they are not the most fortuitous outcomes for ourselves."

"It is of little concern to us now," The darkness calmed slightly. "What of our attempts to infiltrate a spy into Calon Gaer?"

"So far we have been met with failure, my Lord," d'Urmeil dropped into a stance of subservience. "Their vigilance is strong, and they do not blindly accept all offers of servantry help. But it is only a matter of time. We will defeat their defenses sooner or later."

"See to it that you do," drawled the darkness lazily. It then turned Its attention to Tsubarov. "And you? What have you to report to me?"

"Construction of your armed forces is proceeding smoothly, my Lord," the beastmaster reported confidently. "Our experiments with constructs have had promising results. These creatures will not be so easy to defeat, even for a great army of human soldiers. They will suffer great losses first."

"And what of a dragon? How easy would it be for a dragon to defeat these precious constructs of yours?" The Great Evil had seemingly lost a great deal of Its mirth.

Even in the darkness, d'Urmeil could see Tsubarov blanch. It was not wise to invoke the wrath of the master, and the beastmaster was dangerously close to doing so.

"My servants are w-working diligently toward just such an objective, m-my Lord," Tsubarov stammered, tripping over his words in his haste to placate. "We are--that is, my Lord, our plans are sure to evolve; if we have a construct that can easily defeat a large number of human soldiers, then surely we shall have one that can defeat a dragon, and very soon."

"Good. You had best be right, for your own sake," It growled. "Our enemy is growing bold. They have already defeated small sorties sent by us, and will soon start to dispatch feelers to find allies. No doubt they have already mobilized to try and determine our identity. We shall have to take counteractive measures soon."

d'Urmeil felt as if the air around him had suddenly grown lighter. He took a deep breath and waited as The darkness turned its attention on Tsubarov once more. "What manner of creatures do we have in the bestiary, Beastmaster?"

"Several which could be used for offensive purposes, my Lord. A couple of centipedes. A giant badger. Several wyverns. Nothing that would provide any real threat to a dragon, however."

"It does not matter." The Great Evil replied. "I wish to send attacks that will be easy to repel. I want these to be easy victories, at first. They will build up a false sense of confidence, and when they believe themselves invincible, then we will attack with your constructs."

Tsubarov bowed. "Your will is my command, my Lord," he said. "With your leave, I shall go to the bestiary at once to prepare."

"Strike duchies and towns on the borders first, and do not attack solely in one area," It commanded. "We do not want to give them any easy hints of our identity. That shall not be revealed until the proper time. You are dismissed." Tsubarov bowed again and departed from the room.

d'Urmeil stood at attention as the Master addressed him once again. "And you, what shall you be doing?"

"I shall depart at once to identify points of weakness within Calon Gaer that could be used as points of infiltration for spies."

"Good. See to it that the problem is resolved quickly. Do not forget to consult with the Beastmaster. He may have some manner of creature that could be used as a spy, and which would have a higher rate of success for infiltration."

d'Urmeil fought very hard to hold back his distaste at the notion, but he was not successful in hiding it. The darkness intensified to an almost suffocating level, and d'Urmeil staggered from the onslaught. "Make that an order, underling," It snarled, "and I want you to think very, very hard about dissention and insubordination, and what such transgressions will mean for you if I catch you displaying them again."

d'Urmeil bowed wordlessly, and did not allow himself to think about the unfairness of the situation. He did not dare.

"Now go," the darkness commanded, slightly mollified. "You have work to do."

d'Urmeil bowed again and departed as fast as decorum permitted. The light of the hallway seemed almost blinding in comparison to the lair of the Great Evil, but it seemed a pallor in comparison to the darkness clouding his mind.

* * *

If the preparations for the celebration heralding Dorothy's arrival had been frenetic, the ones that lead up to the arrival of Es'rilshan's king were downright panicked. The castle was cleaned from top to bottom, and large, luxurious rooms were prepared for the King and his entourage. The King was due to arrive in several days' time, accompanied by his second-in-command, and an honor guard more for formality's sake than for actual protection.

The princess had been spirited away to the scholars' hall, sequestered away with a group of wizened scholars who drilled her for hours on Es'rilshanian policy and decorum, even though Relena was hardly ignorant when it came to information about the neighboring country. The kitchen staff slaved over new, unusal recipes and dishes, planning an exquisite banquet to welcome the King. Lady Dorothy reveled in her new role; since she was the Es'rilshanian emissary, nearly everyone was coming to her for advice or with questions. At long last, the young emissary was not bored in her role at Calon Gaer.

Despite the flurry of activity, the dragon-riders were not overlooked. Indeed, Weyridge seemed to have taken special note of their every move. Instead of having the relative freedom to do as they pleased, as long as they stayed on the palace grounds, the princess's regent kept strict track of their comings and goings, and summoned them almost daily to grill them on etiquette and decorum. Even the stoic Heero grumbled during several of Weyridge's exhaustive lessons, some of which even the dragons were made to attend. When finally someone took a chance and complained about this new treatment, the dragon-riders were treated to a diatribe that none would soon forget.

It was during a lesson on the proper order with which one greeted the King of Es'rilshan and every member of his entourage that the dam finally burst. "Why is he bothering?" Duo muttered under his breath. "Nobody really cares about such silly things. It's not like we'll be greeting the King ourselves, anyway." Weyridge spun around much more quickly than they expected for someone his age, and froze them all with an icy stare.

"Have you not yet realized why I am going to such great lengths to teach you these lessons?" When none of the riders offered an answer, he leveled a stern glare at them over the bridge of his nose. "As I suspected," he said, his voice quietly disgusted. "You charge off to a neighboring country with weapons bared, yet when that nation's king finally agrees to peace and tries to visit in a show of amicability, you find it odd that we try to insure that those actions will not be repeated? It's been difficult enough convincing the council that you won't go running off to meet and attack him halfway!"

"It is true that our actions were...hasty..." said Quatre slowly, "but don't you think that this is a bit much? We are hardly uncivilized youths with no manners; one would hope that our upbringing included lessons regarding welcoming a foreign ruler." The other young men nodded earnestly, all hoping to be spared another lesson under Weyridge's stern facade.

The advisor seemed unfazed by Quatre's argument. "I had hoped that you understood that before you rushed off to confront Es'rilshan's king!" He paused, carefully regarding each one of the riders. "I do know that you understand your role as defenders of Sanq, but I think that you are still unaware of just how much your actions impact both the fate of our nation and the way others perceive us. You must learn to fight battles on several fronts, not just ones that involve an obvious aggressor. Not all battles will be so clean-cut and easy to recognize; nor will all battles be fought on so obvious a battlefield. You may have the skills to fight, but in the political arena, you are all still akin to babies. That is why I am spending so much time teaching you these things. You have the skills necessary; you just need to hone them to reach your full potential."

There was a tensing in the room, as though the dragon-riders were analyzing the statement for veiled insults. Wufei snorted derisively, and muttered under his breath, "Babies, indeed. My father had me playing the games of the court long before I was able to hold a sword."

"Do you have something that you wish to say to the entire class, Wufei of Ri Shin?" retorted Weyridge. "Or perhaps you all feel as though you outrank myself, and are able to tell me of your comings and goings?"

The dragon-riders did not answer to this, and Weyridge smirked in a sort of self-satisfied way. "As I suspected. Until you have reached the rank where you are the ones telling me what to do, I suggest that you pay attention to what I am trying to teach you. The King of Es'rilshan may be just and kind, but even the most patient of souls have their breaking point. In such a time as this, where we are counting our allies as precious and few, we cannot stand to lose a single soul who would stand beside us."

* * *

When the day of the King's arrival finally came, it dawned sunny and bright, and was made all the more dazzling in the way it reflected off of the shining armor of the legion of troops in Es'rilshanian colors that met the citizens of Calon Gaer upon their awakening.

This, of course, was met with panic and dismay, and it took several moments of swift maneuvering to keep from raising the alarm in the castle and sending out troops of their own to meet the force that awaited them. It was only the sight of Weyridge, still dressed in his sleeping robes, barefoot and shouting like a madman, that startled the castle guard out of their defensive posturing, and reminded them that this was most likely the King's honor guard, arriving earlier than expected.

The dragon-riders and their beasts had been awake before the sun, busy with bathing, sharpening horns and talons, and making themselves presentable. The dragons were in rare form. The atmosphere crackled with the sounds of guttural hisses and growls, as necks arched and eyes sparkled with excitement. When they finally emerged from the bathing-room and into the sunlight, the air seemed to shimmer with light as the sun caught iridescent scales and set itself to dancing upon the dragons' backs and wings.

All were to gather in the Great Hall to welcome the King and his entourage, and soon human and dragon alike began to filter into the vast, open room, which looked exactly the same as it had several months ago when the dragon-riders and their beasts were welcomed. The Qa'nirvenye brass dragons and their riders lined each side of the room, twenty on each side, with Rasid taking a position next to Quatre, flanking the dais where the princess waited. The Es'rilshanian honor guard also stood in the great hall, taking up a position of unflinching attention as they faced the back of the Hall.

Relena watched the skies with trepidation, though she had spent many long hours in front of her mirror that morning, practicing her best passive expressions to hide her nervousness. She glanced down to where Dorothy was seated. The emissary was perched upon a chair slightly lower than Relena's throne, and the young lady was the very picture of impatience. It was the first time Relena had ever seen the other woman show any emotion other than detached boredom or predatory ambitiousness.

The princess's attention was drawn back to the rest of the hall as a light murmur rode through the room, borne on anticipation. All eyes were focused skywards, and then, without warning, all of the dragons gathered in the Hall stretched their necks and bugled in welcoming at the open air. They were answered by two distinct roars of acknowledgement, as a pair of dragons swooped into view.

Relena gasped. If she had been dazzled by the arrival of her own dragon-protectors, it paled in comparison to her first impression of Es'rilshan's king. The sapphire dragon he rode did a lazy sweep of the Hall before alighting in front of the dais, arching his neck in arrogant confidence and regarding the room with a cool, shrewd eye. Relena barely heard the greeter calling the name of the King as the sapphire dragon settled, carefully folding its wings and wrapping its tail around its forepaws. She was given the distinct impression that the dragon was sizing up all that he saw, as though to prepare for attack at a moment's notice.

Seconds later, the King's second-in-command's amethyst dragon alighted next to the sapphire, and Relena all but forgot about the King. The man perched behind the crest of the dragon's neck was draped in Es'rilshanian blue, and most of his face was covered by a strange mask. But there was no mistaking his identity. She felt her heart leap into her throat as she realized that her brother had returned to Calon Gaer.

So intent was she on memorizing every detail of the man her brother had become that Relena almost missed her cue to stand up and welcome her guests. She shook herself mentally and stood, joined a moment later by all of those gathered. The princess walked down the dais to stand before the two dragons as their riders dismounted and straightened riding gear.

The King was clad in leather riding gear, and carried himself with a regal, charismatic air. He was also not much older than Relena herself, though obviously very comfortable in his role as king. The princess surreptitiously eyed the King, noting his broad shoulders and strong jawline, and realized that the King of Es'rilshan was a very attractive man. The King tugged his riding goggles off casually and set them, along with his flight jacket, into the arms of a waiting servant. He reached up and ran a hand through his hair before placing a simple gold singlet upon his brow. He then turned and smiled warmly at Relena.

"Your Highness, it is a pleasure to meet you at last with hands outstretched in a gesture of peace," he said in a smooth, deep voice. "I find it heartening to see that Calon Gaer and, indeed, all of Sanq, has not lost any of its charm and hospitality." He bowed stiffly at the waist, an equal greeting an equal, and Relena herself dipped into a curtsey.

"We are honored by your presence, and equally wish for peace and good faith between our two nations," she replied, smiling casually in spite of herself. She could see that many, if not all of her fears about this encounter were slowly melting away, like hoarfrost at the touch of an autumn day's sun. Treize smiled warmly once again and swooped down to take her hand, kissing the back of it gently. "You resemble your parents strongly, Princess Relena," he said in a voice that only those gathered by the dais could hear. "Sanq should be honored and joyous to have such a beautiful young woman to lead them."

In spite of herself, Relena blushed at the compliments. A distant part of her mind warned her that the Es'rilshanian king was known for his flattering comments, and she carefully schooled her features into the smile that she had been taught to use in just such an occasion. This seemed to satisfy him, and he gently released her hand and turned, his dazzling eyes staring past her.

The smile that creased the King's face was so wide that Relena momentarily forgot that he was a royal leader. "Dearest Cousin," he said happily, "it is so good to see you well!"

Dorothy had risen from her seat and walked in a pace just a hairsbreadth above proper decorum to meet the King. She curtseyed, and looked up to meet his gaze, eyes shining happily. "Likewise is it wonderful to see you again, Cousin Treize."

Treize smiled again. "Before I forget, Rober sends his regards, and hopes you are well."

A small spot of color appeared on each of Dorothy's cheeks, and she smiled in a way that Relena had never seen her smile before. "He said that..." the emissary trailed off. "I shall write to him at once, Cousin." She curtseyed again and returned to her spot on the dais.

Relena nodded, more to herself than anything, and turned to join the other young woman. The Es'rilshan king and his second-in-command followed, and together they turned to address those gathered in assembly.

"As ruling sovereign of the Kingdom of Sanq, I wish to welcome His Majesty, Treize Khushrenada of Es'rilshan to Calon Gaer and our country. I hope and pray that this is a step toward unified peace between our two nations, and a step toward mending the damage and ill will between our two countries, to a better tomorrow!"

The applause that met the two sovereigns was very nearly deafening, and for a moment, Relena was able to forget the lingering anxieties hovering in the back of her mind. For now, she would revel in the fact that this move, whether it had been wholly her idea or not, had been the best course of action.

* * *

It seemed that Es'rilshan's king wanted to waste no time in identifying the enemy and preparing for war. His party had barely settled into their quarters before the King was requesting that a war council be gathered. Treize was soon availing himself of all of the resources that Sanq had to offer, spending long hours in the Scholars' Hall, speaking to the lead scholars, studying the ancient texts, and simply absorbing information. Always present at his side was Frys, his sapphire dragon, whose impatience to discover all there was to learn about Sanq and its unseen enemy appeared to be only rivaled by that of his rider.

Treize seemed especially fascinated by the Oracle, and spent many long hours contemplating its smooth, flat surface, as though hoping it would speak for him. The Oracle had already delivered its message to the Watcher, however, and had remained still and silent since the day of the ceremony.

The King also spent time speaking with the Watcher and his apprentice on their task of translating a language so old that the only knowledge of its intricacies was contained within the minds of two individuals.

Cathrine had realized all too soon that the excitement of the ceremony, coupled with the honor of hearing the Oracle Speak, faded rather quickly in the face of the intensive work it was taking to translate the words of the prophecy. She had had to spend several long weeks alone making sure she had made no error in the transcription; an error could mean the difference between a gradual translation of correct text, and months of poring over notes to discover one small mistake which ruined an otherwise flawless text.

Mistakes were not to happen. They could not happen. Even at the achingly slow pace in which they worked, speed was essential. They were working against time and could not afford to fail.

Cathrine didn't mind the visits of the Es'rilshanian king; the man was in fact very courteous and genteel, and showed respect for the work that she and her master performed. The king was also very handsome, and a definite refreshment to the eyes after staring at old, dusty scrolls and manuscripts for hours.

She was particularly fascinated by the King's dragon. As the Watcher's apprentice, as well as a sister to one of the dragon-riders, Cathrine was no stranger to dragons, having spent nearly as much time around Heavyarms as Trowa himself. But Frys was decidedly different than Heavyarms, and not just in physical appearance. Where the copper dragon was fascinated by people and loved spending time in the center of attention, the sapphire dragon seemed to almost disdain human contact, save that of his rider. He was serious and intelligent, and Cathrine couldn't help but feel as though the dragon surveyed every situation as though it were a battle to be fought.

But she didn't have much time to indulge her curiosity. Noventa had taken special care to make sure that she understood and participated in the translating of the Oracle's Prophecy. It was a daunting task. Noventa rarely slept, and rarely ate unless food was pressed upon him. The translation of the Prophecy had become an all-encompassing obsession; he could think of nothing else until his task was complete.

Cathrine looked up from her writing scroll with a start. She'd let her mind wander. Again! Her cheeks flushed scarlet, and she crouched down over her scroll to hide her shame. How could she ever hope to be a Watcher if she couldn't even concentrate on the simplest of tasks?!

"You look as though you feel as I did, when I was an apprentice Watcher, myself." Noventa's voice contained a dry humor, but was not unkind.

Cathrine turned an even deeper shade of crimson. "Forgive me, Master Noventa!"

Noventa laughed. "To be honest, Cathrine, I'm impressed that you have managed to hold up so well, up to this point. Most other people would have given in to boredom a long time ago. A momentary lapse in diligence is nothing to be ashamed of, as long as it does not become habit." He smiled and gently changed the subject. "How is your translating coming along?"

Cathrine sighed and squared her shoulders, tossing off the remnants of guilt. "I am almost finished with this line," she said, sitting up straight and trying to hide a grin. "I am just having trouble with this one word...."

Together with Noventa's careful prompting, never revealing too much, she translated the rest of the line. They combined their work, as they had each been working on the same passage separately--Noventa for accuracy, and Cathrine for practice--and Noventa read the translated passage aloud:

[center]"When a dark shadow rises from the West,
Over the land ruled by no king,
The voice that has been silenced shall Speak once again
and the Two shall join together."[/center]

Cathrine was silent for a moment, pondering the words. "But what does it mean?"

Noventa shook his head. "That is our next task. First we translate, then we interpret. Those are the roles of the Watcher. Part of your training has been to see things beneath the seen, to recognize other ways of interpreting words. Your training was just the beginning. This task will be unlike anything I have ever asked you to do. It will be difficult. It will be challenging. But the fate of our nation rests upon our being able to interpret these words spoken by the Oracle. We cannot fail. It is imperative that we do not fail."

Cathrine nodded. "I shall do my best, Master Noventa." She cocked her head to one side and regarded her Master. "What do you think it means?"

Noventa's face grew grave. "Without seeing the rest of the prophecy translated, I cannot be sure," he said quietly. "I do have some initial thoughts on what this might mean, however. For the good of the Sanq Kingdom, I fervently hope that my initial thoughts are wrong."

* * *

When the war finally began, it began so quietly and unobtrusively, that the entire nation, including Calon Gaer, very nearly missed its beginnings.

It ws first noticed by Duo and his dragon. They were sprawled out on the edge of the river-cliff; the latter sunning himself languidly, and the former dozing in the midafternoon sun.

It was the dragon that first spotted the messenger-hawk. The bird seemed to have flown a great distance, for its flight pattern was the erratic pulse of a bird about to drop from exhaustion. Faohr smacked his rider lightly with his tail, earning a mumbled reprieve from Duo, who finally roused at the dragon's insistence. The bird was zeroing in on dragon and rider.

"Holy sh...how far has that thing flown?!" muttered Duo. "It can't even get to the tower!" He quickly grabbed for his tunic and wrapped it around his arm as a makeshift gauntlet. The bird alighted clumsily upon his arm, barely having the strength to cling to the fabric. "We've got to get this thing to the hawk tower. They'll know what to do." He made a frustrated noise as he tried to tug on his boots one-handedly, trying to be as careful as possible to avoid disturbing the hawk. "Blast it...!"

"IcanhelpIcanhelpletmehelpletmeletmeletme!!" Faohr scooped up Duo's discarded clothing and dipped his shoulder as low as possible so his rider could mount. The dragon leaped into the air and bolted toward the nearest hawk-towe. Since it was obvious that the hawk was in critical need of care, Faohr only circled the castle three times before his disgruntled rider's voice cut through his thoughts.

"Quit the funny business and land before the bird dies, you big dolt!" Duo scowled. "There will be plenty of time for play later." Faohr nodded, his mind back on his task, and quickly zoomed to the South tower, where the hawk infirmiary was housed. The mercury dragon swooped around the tower like a moth circling a flame, and bellowed anxiously the whole time.

"Helphelphelphurthawkhurthawkhurthawk!! Weneedthebirddoctor! Birddoctor!" Servants and hawkers poked their heads out of the windows and frantically ducked back inside as the silver streak of dragon rushed past the windows. Finally, Duo managed to calm down the excited dragon enough for the dragon to hover at a window and allow Duo to hop out onto the ledge. Faohr immediately perched on top of the parapet and snaked his long neck down, sticking his head upside-down through the window to observe the activity.

Farris, the head hawker and bird physician, carefully lifted the bird out of Duo's arms and laid it on an examining table. "The poor thing has very nearly flown its last," he said. "In fact, it will be a miracle if the bird ever flies again." He stroked the hawk's head, calling a servant to prepare a gruel for the bird. Farris reached down gently to the hawk's right leg, carefully removing the parchment canister fastened there, his lips pursed tightly in irritation. "The message must have been of great import, for the sender to order the bird to fly so fast and so hard that it nearly died from the exertion. Messenger hawks are too valuable to be used frivolously." He unfurled the parchment. "It's from Malary? Well, that explains why the hawk is so exhausted. That's quite some distance from here. But what..." His voice trailed off as he continued to read.

The hawker stared out of one of the windows sightlessly, his mouth moving though no sound escaped it. Finally, he turned to Duo, and thrust the parchment into the boy's hands. "Take this to Weyridge. Don't dawdle. Do it now." Duo obediently took the parchment and had turned to the doorway when Faohr suddenly whipped his head back out of the window and began babbling excitedly.

"Morehawks!! Iseemorehawks! They'recomingthiswayIdon'tknowwherethey'recomingfrombuttherearemoreandmoreofthem!" The dragon danced, head darting to and fro as he tried to spot all of the approaching birds at once. At practically the same time, the sound of harried, booted feet began to thunder up the stairs leading to the hawk tower, and the door burst open, revealing three other hawkers, birds tucked under their arms.

"Master Farris! These birds..." the leader of the group trailed off. "What, there are more of them?!"

The head hawker nodded grimly. "And I take it that all of those birds are carrying urgent messages, as well?" The other hawkers nodded in agreement.

It took Farris but a moment to compose himself. "You, give me that message," he commanded, taking the parchment from Duo. "I want you to report to Weyridge. Tell him that we have a situation on our hands, and to be at the ready. You, go and gather the rest of the hawkers to this tower. It appears that we're going to need them. The rest of you, get gauntlets, and be prepared to receive those incoming birds. We don't know what condition they're in. And get a page; we'll want to send the messages to Weyridge with due haste, once they are all retreived."

The tower exploded into frantic activity. Duo climbed up onto the windowsill and prepared to jump onto Faohr's back, could spot several distinct dots in the distance. The dragon was literally vibrating with excitement, and it was all Duo could do to keep from losing his footing and plunging to the ground. "And it was such a quiet day, too," he grumbled, more to himself than anything. "What on earth is going on?!"

~*~

TBC

As always, C&C is loved and appreciated. ^_^

--Sara

[Morrighan]

Ooh!! You finally updated!

The calm before the storm... This is going to get worse, isn't it?

Can't wait to see more!!

[Goldilocks]

*grins* Oh yeah, it's going to get worse...this is just the tip of the iceberg; you should SEE what I have planned! *rubs hands together evilly*

And it shouldn't be so dreadfully long between updates this time (at least); Chapter 10 is almost finished. I just need to flesh it out a bit and ship it off to the beta-readers. At any rate, it DEFINITELY won't be another year-long wait.

Thanks for reading! ^_^

[APerfectSoldier87]

Great, i remember readong this a month ago, anyway its awesome, please do continue......dont forget somemore hxr and ZMxLN

[silent muse]

Loved the chapter...but I have to admit, I really don't remember the fic... oh well...*goes off to reread the previous chapters*