I do want to thank everyone who has read and reviewed this fic so far. Your comments have kept me going long after I would've otherwise given up. ^_^
All previous chapters can be found in my author forum--it can be found under the Writers Forums--mine is "Sara". ^_^
Ryuu no Hikou
Chapter 14
??And finally, the delegation from Parnathas would like confirmation on whether or not their trade agreement with Rylos is acceptable to Your Highness. They only wait on our word. We really should give them some sort of response, and soon. You know how touchy relations with Rylos can be. Any further delay in response may cause unrest.? Weyridge tapped the sheet of parchment with his pen, and regarded the princess over the edges of his reading-spectacles.
Relena contemplated the issue. ?I trust that you have experience in this field?? she asked.
Weyridge nodded. ?I do. Rylos can be unpredictable, but they normally will hold true to their word, if there is sufficient payback to them for doing so. A trade pact would be beneficial, particularly for Parthanas. The duchy has also made this trade agreement very public, in an effort to assure Your Highness that this is not a covert operation, and the proper taxes will be paid to the throne from the profits on this trade. I would suggest that we grant their request.?
?I will defer to your experience in this matter, Advisor. You may grant their request,? replied Relena, and Weyridge nodded, satisfied. He made a mark on the parchment to indicate that the matter had been settled.
Relena clasped her hands in her lap, resisting the urge to stretch. It had been a long morning already, as Weyridge insisted she be involved in some way with all of the major decisions in the kingdom. She understood why; she knew the only reason why she did not have sole authority over these decisions now was because of her age, and the fact that she had not yet officially ascended to the throne. Normally, she relished these mornings. On this morning, however, she was restless. /I suppose I have not grown up quite yet,/ she mused inwardly.
She bit back a sigh, and instead straightened and looked at Weyridge. ?Are there any other issues we must discuss this morning??
Weyridge had been scanning his list, making marks next to certain items. At Relena?s question, he looked up from his paper. ?As a matter of fact, there is one more issue I wished to discuss with you, if I may.?
Something in his tone made Relena suspicious, and she sat up a bit straighter in her chair. She looked at Weyridge, her expression neutral. ?Yes??
?I wished to discuss with you the matter of your marriage,? Weyridge continued. ?I cannot help but notice that you have not been connecting with any of your suitors, despite their many and overwhelming assets, and their attempts to meet with you.?
Relena could not help herself. She scowled heavily and looked away from her advisor. In her lap, her hands clenched. ?There is no one in that?group of suitors whom I feel would offer a?positive liaison for myself and the kingdom.?
?They are all excellent suitors!? Weyridge protested. ?Some of them have very glowing attributes, and there are more than a few suitors among the group to whom marriage would mean a very shrewd political move. I daresay that the difficulty should be in deciding which one to choose! I cannot see how you do not wish to wed any of them.?
?You are not me, and my choice is not yours,? Relena responded. In spite of herself, her jaw jutted out stubbornly. ?What care I for political liaisons? I am not interested in such a marriage.?
?As Princess of Sanq, and its future queen, I should think that political liaisons would be at the very forefront of your mind! Certainly your predecessors never had such a problem with marrying to benefit the kingdom.? His words failed to sway Relena, who continued to glare at him, her expression sullen. ?None of my daughters were nearly as picky as you have chosen to be,? muttered Weyridge. Relena dropped the remaining tatters of her fa?ade.
?That may be, but you did not force any of your daughters to meet all of their suitors at once! Nor did you force such a meeting at a public gathering, where it would be nearly impossible to ask protest or make escape.? Relena had stood from her seat now, her hands clenched at her sides. ?Advisor Weyridge, do not misunderstand me. I am all too aware of the urgency of the situation, and that I must take a husband. However, I will do so at my own choosing, and I shall have sole discretion over who and when I choose! I thought that that, at least, was within my rights.?
?It is your choice, Your Highness. However, simply having a choice does not mean you can choose to hold out indefinitely, waiting for the right person to happen by! Or, for that matter?? His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. ??waiting for the right person to notice? Perhaps when he is back from battle, with his dragon??
Relena paled, then flushed. How could he have known?! She had not spoken a word of it to anyone. Even with Noin, she had been deceptively vague in her confidence. No one should have known about her infatuation with the dragon-rider! She straightened, gathering courage behind her words. ?I?do not know?from where these allegations of yours arise?or what you are implying??
Weyridge gave her a small, almost patronizing smile. ?Come now, Your Highness. I may be old, but I have raised daughters, and I am no stranger to the world of love and romance. Trust that I did not reach this conclusion through words which I was not meant to hear. Your actions, however, speak far more loudly than anything you could have said.? His expression grew stern. ?Your Highness?Relena?I think of you more as a surrogate daughter, rather than our sovereign, and perhaps in that act, I have made a grave error in personal judgment. Being that as it may, I must warn you against seeking out the dragon-rider as a liaison. You know that he cannot rule.?
?And what of it? Weyridge, you know as well as I that there are ways around such a problem. There have been royal consorts before, who were wedded to the sovereign but could not wield royal power. I have done my studying. There have been Queens ruling with consorts in the past; perhaps not often, but they did exist. Why is my situation so very different?? Relena decided that denial would not help her. ?Why should I not seek the dragon-rider as a spouse??
He sighed. ?Your Highness, I do not wish to speak on such unpleasant topics with you, even at your age--especially at your age. You must understand that as a protector of the kingdom, Heero cannot ever hold power on the throne. He may be duke to his parents? lands, but he could never hold the throne. I do not know if he would be able to handle that; far greater people than he have chafed at such restrictions. Further, his first and foremost duty will always be the safety of Sanq. You would be far better seeking the hand of one of the suitors presented to you, as none of them have any such restrictions.?
Relena pursed her lips in a stubborn expression so reminiscent of her mother that Weyridge was almost fooled for a split second that she was the reincarnation of the late Queen, and not the Queen?s daughter. ?I do not see things as you do, Advisor.? She turned so that her back faced him, her posture rigid.
?Must you force me to forbid you from speaking with him? Is this the only option remaining to dissuade you from such an act??
She whirled to face him. ?You would do no such thing! As princess and future Queen, I must have input into the strategies of the dragon-riders! How can I accomplish this if I am forbidden to speak with one of their number?!?
?As princess and future Queen, you would have no such interaction with the kingdom?s protectors, nor would you have any reason to interact with them!? Weyridge all but shouted. ?You have been allowed far too many liberties, Your Highness, given that both the King and Queen are deceased and cannot participate in such fashion. In any other setting, you would so rarely come into contact with the dragon-riders that you would barely be able to tell them apart, much less have input into their actions!? He calmed slightly. ?Your Highness, I can understand young love and infatuation, but you must disbar yourself from thoughts of any possible liaison with the prince of Ka?legeth. Your duty is to your kingdom as its ruler, and that means you must marry one of your eligible suitors and produce an heir. Heero?s duty to the kingdom is that as protector. There is no other alternative!?
Relena would not hear of it. She whirled and stalked out of the room without another word, hands clenched into fists at her sides. /Perhaps that is the way you are accustomed to things, Weyridge,/ she seethed internally, /but I have other plans./
* * *
The dragons? first lesson with Aratar took them a distance from the palace, to a lake on the shores of a young forest. Early-morning sunlight sparkled on the water, and a fine mist hung suspended over the water and tangled itself in the lowest branches of the trees.
Faohr was the first to land, alighting on the ground cautiously so as not to disturb his rider, who had managed to doze off during the trip. The dragon turned a tight circle on the shore in high, mincing steps. Finally, he settled onto his side, folding his wings across his back and tucking his limbs beneath his body. Duo turned to find a more comfortable perch, and continued to doze.
The other dragons landed nearby. Parth stalked to the water?s edge, his movements slightly stiff. His forelimb had still not completely healed, though it had been several weeks since the battle with the monster, and he no longer wore a splint on the limb to hold the broken bones in place while they knitted. He cocked his head so that he could regard his rider. ?It has been a while since we had access to enough water for a swim, that wasn?t either indoors or too rapid to be safe,? he said.
Quatre chuckled in response. ?Perhaps we will have time for a swim, later,? he replied. ?Our first priority is our lesson with Aratar.? He looked around, but did not spot the gold dragon. ?I do not see her, though I am certain she will be here soon, and?Duo! Are you sleeping?!?
The mercury dragon?s rider turned and opened one eye, regarding Quatre. ?What of it? It is too early,? he groused. ?Aratar is not here. I want to sleep. Do you have a better idea??
Quatre pursed his lips, preparing to speak, but was interrupted by Heero. ?Let him sleep, if that is what he wishes to do,? Heero said gruffly. Wing had landed, and sat back on his haunches, regarding the water. Quatre shrugged and turned away, and dismounted to attend to Parth?s healing injury.
Trowa and Wufei were the last to arrive. The gashes on Lun?s leg had healed over, leaving three jagged white scars across the deep green of her scales that would always be there as a reminder of her indiscretion in battle. As soon as he was well enough to move around, Wufei had dedicated his entire energy to working with Lun, exercising and keeping her limber so that her injuries would not cause her to founder. As a result, she had fared better than the other dragons, though her injuries had been more severe.
The five dragons spread out, neither paying much attention to the other, and their riders followed suit. Though they had never been more than a loosely-knit unit, they had slowly been withdrawing into themselves since that fateful battle with the monster. Each took their turn glancing at the skies, displaying ever-growing impatience as they waited for Aratar.
Finally, Ryl gave a short, barking roar, and the others swiveled their heads and craned their necks to follow her gaze. In the distance, just above the trees, flew Aratar. Her body undulated as she flew, like a long, golden ribbon. She winded her way through the trees surrounding the lake, alighting on the shore and curling up. A pouch of a light webbed material was slung across her shoulders and rested under one arm, its contents bulging at the sides. She smiled at the puzzled expressions of dragon and rider alike.
?Old magic, pups,? she said in response to their unasked question. ?Gold dragons as old as myself use magic to fly, since we do not have wings. Our bodies are the wrong shape for wings; we would not be able to fly at all without magic, and we are one of the few clans who still use magic on a regular basis.?
She settled herself, then waited patiently for the dragons and their riders to seat themselves around her. ?Back in the time of your grandsires,? she began, ?Sanq fostered many training centers for dragon-riders; schools where they would be taught battle strategy and weaponry, as well as common-knowledge education and lessons in the way of the King?s court, for not all who were chosen as dragon-riders came from noble families.
?These centers are now gone; they were disbanded as an unnecessary expense, as well as a product of the growing fear and suspicion of dragons. Many felt that the centers engendered the riders with a sense of entitlement and undeserved power, as though the dragons and their riders would turn on Sanq and demand sovereignty for the service they provided.? Aratar snorted. ?As though the Pact meant nothing!? She snarled, before schooling her features and growing calm once more.
?Before there were training-centers, however, dragon-riders turned to their elders to be trained in the ways of warfare and battle. Groups of hatchlings and their riders would gather with an elder dragon-rider team, much like we are doing, right now. In an ideal situation, my rider would be present. However, I fear that Varya will not be able to help us in this endeavor.?
The dragon-riders nodded, having already confronted Varya and knowing she was in no shape to aid them.
?Back then, training was reliant upon oral tradition and was the responsibility of the older generation to educate the younger generation. However, for whatever reason, there is no older generation to aid you. You are the first group of dragon-riders that have been produced in a very long time. In fact, though the Princess and her regent do not know this, I hear a great deal of information from the scholars in the Oracle?s Hall. Until you were chosen, many believed that the era of dragon-riders had come to an end.
?Therefore,? she concluded, and reached up to deftly unbuckle the strap that held the pouch secure around her shoulders, allowing it to slide to the ground, ?because you cannot be left to train yourselves, it is up to me to be your teacher, in these matters. Fortunately, I am not new to the training of new dragon-riders. For a time, I too aided in training hatchlings, particularly those who lived in or near the castle.?
She began rummaging around inside the pouch. The dragons and their riders leaned forward with curiosity. Aratar finally pulled a strange-looking object out of the pouch. It appeared to be a thick wooden baton, studded with knots that protruded from its sides. ?This is an ancient magical artifact,? she explained, turning it over in her talons. ?It was created many, many years ago, back when I was barely a hatchling, myself, and magic was more commonly-used than it is now.?
The dragons clustered around her, and she turned the artifact so that each of them could see it. ?This tool is used in training, to promote cooperation and teamwork between dragons and riders.? She pressed a button that was flush with the side on one of the ends of the baton. ?When this is pressed, it makes a noise, like this--? The object began to emit a high-pitched shrieking noise. ?To stop, you must always hold down the buttons.? She gripped the object in both talons, pressing down on the buttons. Her grip caused the knots to depress, which in turn caused the shrieking to stop.
?Your first task,? she said, ?will be for the dragons to pass this baton to one another, while airborne. If you allow the alarm to sound, you fail, and will have to start over. Your secondary task is to work together to figure out how to keep the alarm from sounding.?
The dragons muttered in dissent. ?That may be impossible!? complained Ryl. ?How can we concentrate on flying and figuring out how that thing works, at the same time??
Aratar gave her a small smile. ?That is why we are practicing over the lake, hatchling,? she replied. ?If you lose your concentration and fall, you will only land in the water, and a wet pride is easier to heal than a broken body.?
?And what of the riders?? asked Duo. ?What are we to do during this exercise??
?Why, you will ride, of course,? Aratar looked nonplussed. She looked around at the half-circle of dragons and riders. ?Can you not think of a single instance where the ability to pass something between dragons in mid-flight would be useful? Do you not think that the ability to hand something off in such a fashion would be a great improvement over the toss-and-catch? That method, while a great deal easier, comes with quite a few inherent threats, which make it impractical in certain situations. You do no good if you drop whatever you are carrying because you were not able to get a good grip on it when you caught it, or risking a dropped object because your throw was too weak, and it falls into enemy hands.?
The dragons and their riders continued to grumble, their tones mutinous. Aratar, who had until that point been calm, suddenly grew angry.
?Enough!? she barked. ?You two?? she pointed at Ryl and Faohr. ??and you two?? she pointed at Lun and Parth. ??in the air, now. You?? she pointed at Kyarn. ?You will wait, until I tell you to practice.? She growled when the dragons did not immediately move. ?Now!?
Startled into compliance, the four dragon-riders mounted up and their dragons took to the wing. Aratar moved closer to the shore. ?Hie!? she shouted, and Ryl and Parth swooped closer. She had two of the batons, one in each hand. With practiced ease, she activated the batons and flicked them into the air. Each dragon deftly caught one, silencing the alarms as the buttons were pressed. ?You each must figure out on your own how to pass the baton without activating the alarm,? Aratar called. ?This is an activity in teamwork. You must learn to work together. Go!? She settled back on the shore and watched, golden eyes narrowed in critical observation, as the dragons swooped across the lake.
In the air, Parth clutched the baton as though his life depended on it, though it hurt his leg to grip it so tightly. Quatre felt his dragon tense up in pain, and cast about frantically for a sign of Wufei and his dragon. He caught sight of them below Parth, and watched as Wufei tightened his grip in his seat. Lun drew near and flipped over, flying upside down, talons reaching for the baton clutched tightly by Parth.
The emerald dragon grabbed the baton, and smoothing over the buttons held by his uninjured foreleg before they could be released. ?Got it!? she crowed, then reached for the other end of the baton.
Parth tried to release his grip, but his injury-numbed talons had locked around the baton. Lun jerked at the baton, and barked in surprise when she met resistance. ?Sandrock!? she yelled. ?Let go!?
?I cannot!? he grunted in reply. ?My leg! I cannot let go!?
?Impossible!? she shouted, and yanked harder. Parth yelped as pain lanced up his foreleg, and canted hard to one side. Lun was set off-balance?as was Parth. They both plunged toward the surface of the lake. Lun righted herself and released the baton before making a swooping save just above the lake, the tip of one wing skimming the surface of the water. Parth, who was larger and not as lithe, was not able to right himself, and Quatre braced for impact. The alarm of the baton?s shriek was muffled as they hit the water with a great splash.
?Fool!? shouted Lun, swooping over the water. ?Why did you not let go?!?
The bronze dragon?s head breached the surface, and he cast about frantically for his rider. Quatre surfaced a short distance away, spluttering and coughing. ?I could not help it!? snapped Parth. ?My injured leg locked up; I could not release my grip!?
Both Lun and Wufei snorted in unison, and an argument ensued between both dragons and their riders.
Ryl and Faohr were faring no better. Faohr darted around Ryl like a bolt, babbling in his excitement. ?IcangetithereIcomegetreadyformeletgoletgoletgo!?
He snatched at the baton, extending razor-sharp claws far too close to Ryl?s underbelly for comfort. ?Watch it!? Ryl snapped. ?Will you slow down? We can work the exchange without you trying to claw me open!? Each time he reached for the baton, she would snatch it back, and growl a warning at the smaller, faster dragon.
Finally, she could take no more. On Faohr?s final pass, he drew near enough to graze her neck with his talons. ?That is enough!? she snapped, and her neck snaked out just in time to land a hard nip on his flank.
Faohr yelped in shock and pain, then roared in wordless rage and turned to counter-attack. He flew full-bore into Ryl?s side, grappling with her, completely forgetting both of their riders. Their roars and battle cries split the air as they tumbled toward the lake, along with the shriek of the long-forgotten baton. When they resurfaced, they were still fighting. Their riders cast away from the fighting dragons, treading water, and Duo shouted obscenities at Trowa over the din.
?Enough!? roared Aratar, but she could not be heard over the noise of the fracas. ?ENOUGH!?
Suddenly, all grew quiet. The dragons once again assembled in front of her. All managed to look properly cowed. She paced in front of the dragons, her growls rumbling deep in her chest. She gave Parth a pointed look, and he produced both batons.
?This should have been a simple exercise. By working together, there should have been no need to fear injury?? she glared at Ryl and Faohr. ??and the uninjured dragon would have anticipated difficulty from the one with a healing injury, and would have accounted for any difficulty it may have posed.? She now glared at Parth and Lun. ?The fact that you still refuse to work together speaks volumes. Do you not consider yourselves a fighting force? Or do you see yourselves as individuals, with no need to work together??
The dam broke. Everyone began talking at once, hurling excuses and accusations interchangeably. Aratar roared again for silence.
?Pups, you do not want ME to show you how this is to be done,? she said, her voice dangerously quiet. ?So you will try again. And again, and again, until you figure out how to do this without attacking one another!?
Her tone brooked no argument. There were only minimal complaints this time, as dragons launched into the air, tried, failed, and were again berated, to try again.
It was going to be a long morning.
* *
On the shore, Heero watched the debacle with a mixture of pity and disgust. He leaned up against Kyarn?s side. The dragon also watched his companions, and his eyes narrowed as Deathscythe made a daring swoop to try and yank the baton away from Heavyarms. The irritated copper dragon darted out of the way, and rabbit-kicked the mercury dragon with enough power to send him careening into the lake. The waves from the splash gently lapped at the shore, betraying the turmoil in the air above.
Kyarn snorted in disgust. ?Dragons were not meant to cooperate with one another, not like this,? he muttered to his rider. ?We are solitary beasts, only drawing together when we must. An activity like this is bound to fail.?
Heero grunted. ?Perhaps. The Pact seems to be an exception, for one. At least they seem to be having better luck.? He shrugged in the direction of Nataku and Sandrock. After their disastrous first attempt, the emerald dragon now held the baton. Sandrock was trying to maneuver himself into a position to grab the baton; their movements a clumsy dance in midair.
?Hmm,? grunted Kyarn. He said no more, but continued to watch the other dragons intently, scrutinizing their every move. Heero was left with his thoughts for company, and let his mind wander. As it had done many times over the course of the past few weeks, he began to think about?her.
He did not know what to think of the situation with the princess. Ever since their discussion in the gardens, she had been running tirelessly through his mind. He had played and replayed their discussion, and still had reached no conclusions or gained any insight on what he should do about the matter. One thing was obvious, at least: He knew she held more interest in him than just that of a princess to a knight and protector of the kingdom.
/At least she is not like the eldest of my sisters, or for that matter, like most other girls,/ he mused. /She has not followed me around, nor made excuses to be just in the same place I happen to be. She does not favor that habit of mindless giggling that afflicts so many girls, either. In fact, I have rarely seen her smile./ He pondered this point for a moment. Yes, if this was the extent of Relena?s pursuit, perhaps he could withstand it.
Or could he? He remembered the maelstrom of emotions she had stirred up with her simple statement that she had wanted to marry for love. He remembered being confused, but also?jealous? Of whom? And?elated? Why? He furrowed his brow. The answer was right there, just before his eyes, and he knew it?but why could he not grasp it?
/She has plenty of other suitors,/ he reminded himself severely. /She has no need for me. Time apart will convince her of that, and she will seek out someone more suitable than me, which is as it should be./ His statement was meant to placate him?but why did it leave him feeling twisted up inside, as though he had swallowed something poisonous? /The suitors are all idiots,/ he finally told himself. /That is why I do not like the idea. None of them are my match, on the battlefield. But they will still be able to offer her more than I can, in other ways./ His statements did little to calm the roiling of his stomach, and he still felt edgy. He pursed his lips in annoyance. /This is not working. If only I had some sort of distract--/
?Look out!?
Heero?s head jerked up with a start, but it was too late. Deathscythe had finally managed to snatch the baton away from Heavyarms, who looked distinctly annoyed, but was not in pursuit. The mercury dragon was glancing back over his shoulder as though expecting her to do just that, and was not paying attention to where he was going. ?IgotitIgotitIdiditlookatmelookatmelookatme!? crowed Deathscythe.
Kyarn leaped to his feet, caging his rider?s body between his forelegs and bracing his hind legs against the shore. ?Fool!? he shouted, ?Watch where you are going!? Kyarn?s words registered in the mercury dragon?s mind, and he blinked, whipping his head around. Deathscythe squawked in surprise, and tried to slow down, but it was too late. Heero dove out of the way just as Deathscythe plowed into Kyarn. Both of them tumbled backward, Deathscythe flipping over the topaz dragon?s back and somersaulting several times before coming to rest on his back several yards away. The baton, which had been dropped and forgotten in the collision, shrieked in its indignation.
Kyarn leaped to his feet, snarling in challenge. ?You moron!? he hissed. ?I am not completely convinced that you are not a spy of the enemy, sent here to pick us off, one by one, with your bumbling incompetence!?
Duo, who had dove from his dragon?s back and into the lake when he realized that collision was inevitable, hoisted himself out of the water and stood up, shaking water out of his hair and sluicing it off of his arms. ?Oi!? he snapped at Heero. ?Call off your dragon! It was a mistake! It was not intentional!?
Heero had righted himself and was seated on the shore. He folded his arms across his chest and leveled a glare at the other rider. ?Tell him yourself,? he grunted. ?From my position, I would have to say that Wing makes a compelling argument.?
?Oh, and it is so easy for you to criticize, he who has not yet tried this little game!? snapped Duo. ?I would think that you would fare as poorly, but you seem to be Aratar?s little favorite, and excluded from this exercise. Perhaps you hide the secret to perfection somewhere in that menacing glower you always wear??
?Are you implying that I have, in some way, done something to garner preferential treatment?? Heero?s voice was dangerously quiet.
Dragon and rider each squared off against their peers. ?Iamnotamoron!? barked Deathscythe. ?Howcomeyouarealwayssomeantoeveryoneanyway???
?I hardly think that even deserves a response,? snorted Wing. ?Why would I wish to ally myself with such incompetence? I could more easily fight on my own. As it should be.?
Deathscythe opened his mouth to voice a retort, but backed down, cowed, as Aratar?s bulk towered over them. She glared, first at the mercury dragon, then at the topaz. ?I would have you carefully consider your words, hatchling,? she snarled, her voice quiet, ?before you say too much, as you are brooking treason against the Pact.? She glared at their riders. ?And you,? she said, eyes narrowed. ?I expected more from you, as duke?s sons, to have been raised better than to resort to fisticuffs when confronted with opposition. Have you never had lessons in diplomacy? How will you ever expect to rule in your fathers? places, if the only way you know how to face opposition is to be belligerent??
She sighed, and stared skyward to follow the path of the sun, which had tracked well past its noon zenith. ?It seems I have overestimated all of you,? she murmured. Rather than sounding angry, she sounded disappointed and sad. Heero found himself swallowing around the lump in his throat he didn?t even think was there, and had he noticed, he would have seen that all of the dragon-riders and their dragons looked similarly abashed.
Aratar picked up the discarded baton, and with one deft motion disengaged the alarm. She sighed. ?Perhaps I was mistaken. I thought I sensed something different in all of you; I thought you held great potential. But I am old. Perhaps my knack for such things has finally failed me.? She tucked the batons in her bag, and carefully buckled it around her shoulders. ?I cannot teach you.? With that she turned and wound her way through the trees, finding a clear spot to take to flight.
The dragon-riders watched her depart. None spoke, for there was nothing that could be said that would temper the bitter taste of their failure this time.
* * *
Tsubarov eyed the recruits who surrounded him. His face reflected his disgust. ?Is this the best that the Master can spare?? he muttered under his breath. Nevertheless, he must obey, or face Its wrath once more. Even as he thought this, he shuddered. The last punishment doled out by The Great Evil had been practically benign, in comparison to what It was capable of doing.
?You have been sent to me for a great honor,? he started, letting his voice carry the full weight of his conviction that the recruits were, indeed, very lucky. ?You have all been chosen because the Master believes you to be of exceptional skill and talent, and It sees fit that you be recruited as the very first members of our beast-rider squad.?
The recruits shuffled and muttered. None of them seemed to be very pleased to have been chosen, no matter how much Tsubarov tried to convince them that it was an honor.
Tsubarov gestured to a slight depression in the floor before them, covered with twin slabs of stone. ?Before you can achieve that honor, you must first pass the final test, as we must make certain that you are compatible with the beasts. That final test is before you now. Pass, and you shall become warriors without equal. Fail, and you shall be disgraced.? He clapped his hands. At his command, two sets of men, one on each end of the pit, began pulling on ropes attached to the slabs, straining to drag them off of the depression in the floor. As the slabs were slowly removed, they revealed a deep pit sunk into the floor.
The recruits all leaned over, their curiosity leading them to see what was in the pit. Those in the front drew back with near-matching gasps of revulsion and horror.
?Sir!? cried a dark-haired youth at the front. ?Y-you cannot be serious?! We cannot possibly be meant to ride those?things?!?
In the pit, several beasts blinked up at the sudden light. At the sight of the people ringing the pit, they began growling. A few began pacing beneath the ledge where the recruits stood, their six limbs causing their gait to be odd and disjointed. One leaped up, snapping its teeth just inches below the ledge. The recruits stumbled backward.
Another recruit looked at Tsubarov, his face pale and stricken. ?Sir! I cannot?! I cannot?those are monsters! How can you expect us to ride something that may just as soon devour its rider?!?
?Coward!? spat Tsubarov. ?True, my beasts have been created to have the utmost aggression, particularly toward humans. But do not think I created them to have no intelligence! The creatures recognize talent and bravery, and will not attack one they see as an equal. If you do not show fear, the beasts will let you approach without harm.?
He clapped his hands again. ?Recruits! Into the pit! Prove to the beasts that you are worthy of your titles as beast-riders!? When none stepped forward to the challenge, Tsubarov glowered at the recruits. ?Might I remind you that the Master bestowed this great honor upon you by being chosen as beast-rider recruits. I daresay It would not be?pleased, were you to rebuke Its generosity in such a fashion.?
The group shuffled, uncertain. They were torn between their fear of Tsubarov?s monsters, and their fear of The Great Evil, whose wrath was far worse than being torn apart by a nameless monster. Tsubarov was about to force one of the recruits into the pit, when the one to first voice his protest was pushed by his fellows into the pit.
The boy landed, sprawling, in a heap near the wall. Though stunned, he was immediately on his feet, his back pressed to the wall. The creatures stalked him, waiting for their moment. Tsubarov watched, but he knew right away that the boy would not do as a rider. Still, he called out to the lad. ?Show no fear!? he commanded. ?If they find you suitable, you will not come to harm. If you are not worthy, you will meet your fate. But do not show fear!?
?Please!? shrieked the boy, his voice high-pitched with his fear. ?Please, I beg you! Let me out! Please!! Plea?aaiiggh!?
The youth began screaming as the foremost beast sprung into an attack. The other beasts quickly followed suit. It was all over in a matter of seconds.
Tsubarov looked at the remaining recruits, his expression grave. ?Now you know why it is so critical that you show no fear. Since you now know this fact, you can place a face to your fears, and do not face the unknown. No more hesitation! The rest of you?into the pit!?
The recruits balked, struggling with one another, trying to find some excuse to get out of getting into the pit. The cacophony raised by the recruits was so loud that Tsubarov nearly missed the sole recruit who sauntered forward, wearing an attitude of arrogant confidence.
?I will enter the pit, sir,? the youth said, his voice echoing his confident posture. Before Tsubarov could say a word, the boy leaped into the pit, his shaggy blond hair falling into his eyes as he landed. He crouched for a moment, then stood, still maintaining the mask of arrogance he had worn before.
The beasts growled, but did not attack. Then, to the great surprise of the other gathered recruits, one of the beasts slowly sauntered forward. The boy grinned, his smile almost as feral as that of the beast before him. Boy and beast regarded one another with cautious disdain. The other recruits watched, holding their breath, waiting for a repeat of the scene with the last recruit to enter the pit.
The beast grunted, as though satisfied, and sat down heavily on its haunches in front of the boy. The boy reached forward and began to caress the beast?s coarsely-shaped head. The beast made a sound very much like a purr, and showed no inclination to snap or bite the youth.
Tsubarov smiled with satisfaction. ?Well done, recruit,? he said to the boy in the pit. ?That beast shall be a faithful companion to you, and shall carry you into battle proudly.? He threw a rope ladder into the pit for the recruit, who scrambled up the rope to stand next to the beastmaster. Tsubarov tugged up the rope ladder, and straightened to regard the youth. ?What is your name, boy??
?Brannock Alex, sir,? said the recruit, standing at attention.
?Well done, Recruit Alex,? said Tsubarov, his voice ringing with satisfaction. ?You have been bestowed a great honor.? He turned and faced the remaining recruits. ?Are there any others among you who are as worthy of the same honor which has been bestowed upon Recruit Alex??
The recruits were still hesitant, but some had been emboldened by their comrade?s success. By the end of the hour, six more recruits had been selected by the monsters, including a young man named Mueller whose swarthy complexion and short-cropped dark hair hinted at parentage that included at least one foreigner. When Mueller scrambled out of the pit, he stood next to Alex. The two of them shared a look, a combination of triumph and something more.
When the remaining recruits that had not been killed or chosen had been dismissed, Tsubarov turned to face the chosen recruits. He regarded them with the same careful, practiced eye he used when building his constructs. Only a handful remained, but what he saw pleased him; the recruits had the same air of almost desperate ferocity he had carefully instilled in his beasts. The recruits stared back, showing a boldness that pleased Tsubarov even further.
?Oh, you shall do,? he murmured under his breath, his grin feral. ?You shall do nicely.?
~*~
TBC...eventually.
As always, C&C is greatly loved and appreciated. ^_^