The Music of Dragons Read online

  The Music of Dragons

  C.S. Vass

  The Gaellean Prophecy Book Two:

  The Music of Dragons

  A Dark Epic Fantasy Series

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  C.S. Vass

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. Copyright law. For permissions contact: [email protected]

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  ASIN: B086DM3Z5P

  Contents

  Website

  Prologue

  Further Reading

  Website

  For a Free Short Story: www.csvass.com

  Prologue

  A flock of gulls exploded from the rooftop across the street. Cold wind whistled through the windows of The Starving Crab, but despite the chill Saebyl was experiencing the first blue skies the city had seen in weeks. Godwin sat cross-legged on the floor, staring at his untouched rice wine and running his fingers over the sheath of the darksword. The fighting had ceased, and while many in Saebyl seemed eager to get a taste of normalcy between the bloodshed, he knew the calm would not hold.

  “Would you like something else, sir?”

  Godwin looked up to the small, smiling barmaid that stood before him. She was trying to maintain composure, but the fear in her eyes was palpable. While everyone openly carried swords these days, he knew she knew who he was. Saebyl had been singing songs of the Odruri for weeks, and while he had their respect, he was also keenly aware that they saw him as an omen of death everywhere he went.

  “I’m fine, thank you.”

  She nodded and quickly left. Godwin felt his throat tighten. He hadn’t asked for this. He shouldn’t even have been in Saebyl. He was supposed to be in Brentos. But Ysabelle Wenjen had summoned him, and that was that. He did his best to protect the city, but it was deeply unsettling that more people than not knew him by sight. He missed being able to disappear in a crowd.

  “You haven’t touched your wine, my friend. Drink. The Tarsurians are bound to be doing the same in their camps. We need a little cheer before the slaughter. Barmaid! Vodka! Two cups!”

  Godwin grimaced. “Hello, Logun.”

  The balding Shigata stood before him, grinning. “Aren’t you going to ask me to sit?” he asked while taking a seat on the floor across the squat table. “Come, don’t look so glum. From what I hear, you’re the hero of Saebyl. Odruri! Ha! Smile, will you? The people will rejoice from seeing you confident. Barmaid! Where’s that vodka!”

  Godwin felt his fist tighten beneath the table. “Don’t call me that.”

  “I see, I see,” Logun smiled while waving his hand. “You think I’m a pain. Quite understandable. But you know, you have to take my orders for now. I’m the one who’s been whispering with our little bird after all. If you’re so discontent with my leadership, you could always join. The Shigata are all equals, you know. We bow only to the Sages. Even—”

  “Let me stop you there,” Godwin said stiffly. “If you brought me here to convince me to join again, then you’re out of luck. I came here to receive my orders, not sit through another despicable presentation. I’ll likely be a corpse before this siege is done, but on the off chance that I somehow survive, I would slit my own throat before becoming a Shigata.”

  “Would you now?” Logun said as he picked his teeth. “Barmaid!”

  “Sorry sir, forgive me,” the stumbling server said as she thrust a bottle and two tumblers onto the table.

  “It’s nothing,” Logun said. “I’m testy because my two swords have a thirst. Since there’s no killing to be done now, I’ll have to simply wet my whistle. Unless you’d like to assist with the other—”

  “Hey!” Godwin slammed a fist on the table. “I didn’t come here for your antics. We have business.”

  “That will be all then,” Logun said to the very relieved barmaid.

  “Animal,” Godwin muttered.

  “Animal?” Logun said, as he poured a drink into each tumbler. “Perhaps, Godwin. I think you’re right. But if I’m the kind of animal that goes sniffing around taverns, then what kind of animal are you?”

  Godwin did not respond, but picked up his tumbler. “I’m going to need to drink if I’m to endure this.”

  “I thought you’d never ask. To the good King Boldfrost.”

  The two warriors clinked glasses and drank.

  Logun wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Ah, now that that’s out of the way, let’s get down to business.” He leaned in, lowered his voice, and said, “You’re needed again. Are you ready?”

  Godwin arched a brow. “The fighting will resume? How can you be certain?”

  “Don’t you worry, I’m certain. There’s going to be a Tarsurian attack in three nights.”

  “Where?”

  “Denethor’s Inn.”

  “The target?”

  “The University’s finest scholars.”

  That Godwin did not expect. “What? Why? They’re going to attack civilians?”

  Logun chuckled and poured himself another.

  “Fool,” Godwin hissed. “Should you be getting drunk if the fighting will start again? What if the Tarsurians move up their assault?”

  Logun chuckled in his deep baritone. “Most people would consider that an excellent reason to get drunk. Now listen. They may be scholars and mages, but these are no civilians. They’re working on something very, very important. Government secrets. Even I don’t know what.”

  “Have they been warned?”

  “Of course not.”

  “What?”

  “Think, Godwin. None of the ordinary folk know that these book rats are dealing with something powerful, something related to the government. If we allow the attack to happen, it will provide us with a nice bit of propaganda. Tarsurians attacking civilian targets. It’ll have the wheat boys from here to the Southlands rushing to enlist.”

  Godwin’s expression darkened. “Except they’re not civilians.”

  “Why should that matter? Are you worried about them? We’ve been over this. Your job isn’t to worry. It’s to go out there and bare your teeth and bite people like a good little doggy. If you’re so concerned, then do your damn duty. We don’t want any of these people killed. Just to know that the attack took place will be enough. You’ll be lying in wait with two-dozen men ready to stop the ambush as it occurs.”

  “I see. And you can’t tell me what these scholars are working on?”

  “I truly don’t know.” Logun was speaking so softly that his voice was barely audible. “What I do know is that it’s very dangerous. The Tarsurians are quite determined to put an end to it.”

  “I’ll say. Particularly if they’re willing to start the fighting again before their reinforcements have arrived.”

  “So you’ll agree to defend these brave brainiacs?”

  “I suppose I don’t have a choice.”

  “That a boy. Now, there is just one other thing.”

  “There always is.”

  Logun grinned. “Good, I see you’re starting to get it. You’ve done enough in your time here that you’ve earned a certain level of trust. The work you’ve done in the streets of Saebyl is admirable, Godwin. People I’m close to have reported that you are trustworthy.”

  “Why do I have the feeling I’m not going to like this?”

  “It’s a simple matter. Truly. Or at least so I’m told. I know nothing about the specifics.”

  Godwin snorted. “Great, that’s really reassuring.”

  Logun’s eyes narrowed. “It should be, Godwin. Or have you not heard that keeping all your eggs in one nest attracts snakes?”

  “I thought I was here to kill snakes.”

  “You’re here for many
things, as you’ll learn.”

  “Fine. What would you have of me?”

  “Sit here like a good boy. Admiral Jelsin will fill you in on the rest.”

  “You can’t be se—”

  Before Godwin could get the words out, Logun was already walking away. Without turning back the Shigata shouted, “Enjoy the vodka, Odruri. The Admiral will be here soon.”

  Godwin cursed. The arrogance of that Shigata bastard, treating him like a child. He might be subservient to the army, but that didn’t mean he had to take orders from some killer from Black Wolf barely older than he was. The scoundrel didn’t even leave a coin as payment for the drink!

  Looking around Godwin sighed. The tension in the air was palpable. The few citizens that were brave enough to venture outside of their homes were trying to grasp at some semblance of normalcy, but he was keenly aware they all knew who he was and to stay far away from him. Apparently not all heroes were the kind that you approached. At least while war still raged.

  Godwin didn’t have long to wait. Within just a few minutes Admiral Jelsin stepped into the tavern. Several customers stood up, recognizing his military armor decorated with metals that flashed a dozen different shades of gold and grey. Godwin had half-expected him to wear the roaring wolf’s headdress that the Admiral was known to favor, but on that count he was disappointed.

  Jelsin waved them down and approached Godwin solemnly. “I trust you were informed I wished to speak with you?”

  Godwin nodded. He had learned early on in Saebyl that the less he said to these superiors, the better it would go for him.

  “Good,” Jelsin responded curtly. He gestured towards the drinks. “I see you’re enjoying the reprieve from battle.”

  “Hm.”

  “A man of few words. This is good. Particularly when drink is involved. Now calm yourself. I’m no clucking hen here to chide you for having a moment’s peace. You’ve proven your value, and until I see reason to do say otherwise, you may have the run of the city as you see fit. May I join you in a glass?”

  Godwin nodded, almost laughing at the idea he might refuse.

  “My thanks,” Jelsin said as he eyed a precise pour into the tumbler and promptly tossed it back without waiting for Godwin to join him. “You have been given a task for three days from now. That is fine, but I need you tonight. Are you ready?”

  “Yes.”

  Jelsin smiled. “Maybe the reprieve from battle has left you more bored than relaxed. All the better, but don’t be so quick to the sword. You will have to use your judgement tonight.”

  “How so?”

  “You will have a meeting with Atusto Romulai. Do you know the name?”

  “I do.” Godwin tried not to show his surprise. Romulai was an intelligence officer in the Tarsurian army known for his particularly skilled methods at infiltrating the Boldfrost’s various agencies. He had been a priority target for over a year. In truth, Godwin had wondered if he would be assigned the kill.

  “Good,” Jelsin said. “You are to meet with Atusto in the central gardens tonight. Obviously, he will be in civilian garb. You will recognize him by a blue feather perched in his hat.”

  “You said I’m not to rush to the sword.”

  “That’s correct,” Jelsin said. “You see, Atusto may be interested in defecting.”

  “I see. If that’s the case, why is he not already in our protective custody?”

  “I do not know if I trust him. My informants assure me that information he has could be most valuable. But it’s possible that Atusto is just the sort of man who would be quick to sacrifice himself to give us false intelligence. Your job is to decide whether we take him in or take him out. Make your decision swiftly.”

  Godwin kept his face blank, but internally his mind raced. Why would he be in charge of something like this? He was nothing more than an assassin. This type of work was better suited to some sort of intelligence officer.

  Jelsin nodded as if he could read Godwin’s very thoughts. “I understand your confusion. You know that I’m a man who uses a hammer when I see a nail. You wonder if I haven’t already made up my mind about killing him, and I am simply sending you in to cover myself in the event that some of my comrades question the decision. Well? Speak!”

  Godwin nodded his head. “Yes, you’ve read my confusion accurately. Forgive me, Admiral, but I don’t see how I’m qualified to make a decision of this sort. I am an assassin. Nothing else. So if you’re the type of man who uses a hammer when he sees a nail, then you’ll understand my wondering if there’s really a decision for me to make here.”

  “What you don’t see is none of my concern,” Jelsin snapped at once. “I assure you, I’m sending you in sincerity. Do not simply kill Atusto without thinking. You have true decision-making power. Speak with him. See if you trust him. Act accordingly.”

  A wide smile broke out across Godwin’s face.

  Jelsin immediately straightened. “You think this is a joke, Godwin?”

  “Forgive my insubordinate expression, Admiral,” Godwin said as he reached for the bottle. Pouring himself a measured tumbler just as the Admiral did, he took a small sip and sat thoughtfully before speaking. “I believe I understand.”

  Jelsin wasn’t amused. “I should certainly hope so! I was crystal clear with my instructions.”

  “You’re giving me this assignment because you’ve already decided what to do with Atusto.”

  Jelsin’s cheeks reddened immediately. “Was I not explicitly clea—”

  “You were,” Godwin said, taking another sip. “But all the same, he’s a dead man. The point of this isn’t Atusto. It’s me. You want to see if my judgement is capable. Perhaps if I’m ready for bigger things, more responsibility. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  “It is not your place to question orders once they come down.”

  “I’m asking no questions. But come, be honest. There’s no reason I should make such an important decision. Not with a man at the level of Atusto. A man with a reputation for having a silver tongue, who has talked his way out of certain death several times. You know he’s full of it. If I kill him, no harm done and you learn I might have a strategic mind for you to put to use. If I take him in, you simply kill him and then you know I’m an incompetent dolt. You wouldn’t really risk me killing someone so valuable if you thought there was anything to be learned from him.”

  Jelsin’s sharp grey eyes observed Godwin with a look between a knife’s edge of contempt and admiration.

  “Before you say anything, please let me continue, Admiral. Just for a moment. You see, I have no interest in rising up the ranks. I don’t want to make decisions for your army. I’m a sword. Draw me when I’m needed, keep me sharp on a whet stone. But don’t go waving me around in front of dinner guests. In short, should I be offered any sort of promotion, I will refuse.”

  Jelsin’s face went very cold. For a long while it seemed as if he wasn’t even breathing. At last he spoke. “You arrogant fool. You dare deign to suggest I’m playing these games with you? I’ve given you your assignment. Go. Meet Atusto. Fill the streets with blood. You’ve made it perfectly clear it’s all you’re good for.”

  “Very well,” Godwin said. “Thank you for your time, Admiral.”

  “And you for your service, Odruri.”

  Pale yellow light filled the sky as the sun descended in the west. Godwin walked through the central gardens of Saebyl, an expansive park filled with snow-tinged evergreens. The winding dirt pathways were empty. Saebyl had tried to recover after the first several assaults by the Sun Warriors, but nobody yet dared walk the streets this close to dark. Just outside the city walls, thousands of Tarsurians were waiting for their chance to strike.

  “I know who you are.”

  Atusto Romulai was a thin man with small beady eyes, an untrimmed mess of facial hair, and a blue feather perched in his cap.

  “And I you,” Godwin responded. The darksword, that magical blade that had caused so much dest
ruction within Saebyl’s walls, hung heavy at his side. “Why are you here?”

  “You already know. I wish to defect.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Do you really have to ask? What man would want to serve an arrogant Emperor who shovels his own men off to fight and die on foreign soil without so much as healers at the ready for the broken bodies that return home? An Emperor who is ready to burn the world to the ground with the snap of his fingers?”

  “What of your friends and countrymen?”

  “Could I not serve them better by ensuring the madman who reigns in Sun City is destroyed?”

  “Am I to believe you’d so willingly trade one tyrant for another? What makes Boldfrost any better? Do you think he’d be any different if the West had armies comparable to the East?”

  “I cannot believe you’d speak of your king in such a manner!”

  “Look who’s talking.”

  “See here!” Atusto stepped forward. “I’ve already made my decision. I know what I’ve gotten myself into and where my new loyalties will lie. Do you think I take this lightly? Do you?”

  A fevered look came into Atusto’s eyes as he stepped forward again. His lips trembled, and his legs shook. Keep talking, Godwin heard. He looked around, alarmed. Though his lips hadn’t moved, the voice was Atusto’s. Keep talking you fool. They’ll kill us both. Say anything. Ramble about what a traitor I am.

  Utterly stunned, Godwin obliged. This was elven magic. Old magic. Of the sort he had never encountered before. Still, he managed to make himself speak, slowly, almost nonsense, about traitors and loyalties.

  Listen to me, Godwin, Atusto’s voice continued inside of his head as Godwin spoke. I will die here, but you have to survive. They’re all around us, and we don’t have much time. I’m going to give you a bottle with a message inside of it. A magical voice will repeat the message only once. You must open it in the presence of someone powerful in your government. Someone who can help with an oncoming catastrophe. You must deliver the message. Don’t stop speaking! Insult me.