Nightpool Read Free Page B

terrible storm and gale
winds.
    It was a sheep farmer who saw her struggling
and, in his little skiff, tried to reach her. He searched the sea
for her body, finding only her cloak and one boot. He brought the
cloak and boot to the gate just at dusk, his old eyes filled with
tears.
    If Teb’s father wept, he did not let Teb and
Camery see his tears. He was stern and silent with the children
after her death, locking all his pain inside. It would have been
easier if they all could have shared their grief.
    The king laid cloak and boot in a small gold
cask set with coral, which had held his wife’s favorite
possessions. He buried the cask at the foot of the flame tree in
her walled, private garden, and put a marker there, for her
grave.
    After that his father was often absent from
the palace, busy at council with his lieutenants, planning war
against the dark northern raiders that preyed upon Tirror’s small
nations and were drawing ever closer to Auric. It seemed strange to
see him at council without the queen by his side, for they had
always shared such duties. As he planned his defenses, pacing among
his men, he seemed so filled with fury—almost as if he thought the
dark raiders themselves were responsible for the queen’s death.
    Then his lieutenant, Sivich, gone suddenly
and inexplicably over to the dark side, had, with a band of armed
traitors, attacked the king and killed him. Sivich had always
seemed so loyal. He must have lived a lie all those years, cleverly
hiding his true intentions. Teb was there when it happened. He
fought the traitors beside his father until he was knocked
unconscious. He had been put into a cell and made a slave, and
Camery locked in the tower. From the tower, and from the door of
the palace, they saw their father buried in the courtyard in an
unmarked grave.
    At first Camery’s pet owl had flown secretly
at night between the two children, whispering their messages
through the tower window and through the barred window in the hall,
until Sivich overheard and sent the jackals to kill the owl.
    He expected Camery had cried a long time,
for Otus had been a dear friend. Once the messages stopped, Teb
yearned more and more to be with Camery, longed for her to hold
him, for she was the closest thing to a mother he had left. Now he
yearned to tell her about the dragon, for news of such a creature,
if in truth it was a singing dragon, was surely a symbol of
hope.
    “Its shadow made the beach go dark,”
crippled Hibben was saying. “It screamed over the horses and made
them bolt.”
    Sivich had risen and begun to pace, his
shadow riding the worn tapestries back and forth. “How long was it
in sight? Did it come straight at you, or—”
    “Straight at us, its eyes terrible, its
teeth like swords,” Cech said, shaking his blond shaggy head, “and
the flame . . .”
    “And where did it come from? Can’t
you agree on that? Didn’t you see where it went? How can I know
where to search if you can’t remember better than that!”
    “The islands, maybe,” someone said
hesitantly. The men shifted closer together.
    “Circled and circled the coast of Baylentha,
and bellowed,” little, wiry Brische said hoarsely. “Its fiery
breath, if it had come any closer, would have set the woods
afire.”
    “Stampeded the horses—took half a day to
catch the horses.”
    “It wanted something there, in
Baylentha.”
    Sivich was silent for some time. Then he
raised his head straight up on those bulging shoulders and looked
hard at the men, and his voice came grating and low. “We ride at
dawn for Baylentha.”
    The men shrank into themselves. Cech said
softly, “What do you mean to do?”
    “Catch it,” Sivich said.
    The room was still as death. Not a man
seemed to breathe. The crack of the fire made Teb jump.
    “How?” someone whispered. “How would you
catch such a thing?” These men were killers, but now they were
afraid. Teb guessed that a great dragon is not the same as a
village full of