Tags:
Magic,
dragon,
battle,
sword,
deadly,
epic battle,
d,
intentions,
david temrick,
temrick,
deadly intentions
broke out after breakfast. While
he and Mina controlled their tempers for their sons sake in his
presence, as soon as they were out of earshot they yelled at one
another until they were hoarse. Mina planned for the boy to attend
Delhi University, but Tristan reasoned that if the prophecy were to
come true he would need a more worldly education than painting and
writing.
More than once the arguments had to be
moderated by Lesa and Peria who could understand both of the
parents’ points of view and refused to pick a side. Which, of
course, only served to intensify the battles; which is how Tristan
thought of these shouting matches now. If he gave the girl an inch,
she wanted the whole bloody country and he simply refused to allow
her to steam roll over his wishes for his son.
There was simply no middle ground to be found
and after he offered a concession to the girl, in the hopes she
would offer him a concession, she would renew her ranting on the
proper way for Guisian Princes to be raised. The images of orcs,
trolls, ogres, giants and other unsavory creatures, not to mention
the armies of men and mages were just too alien to Mina for her to
have a proper reference for Tristan’s’ arguments.
As this particular argument reached a fever
pitch, Lesa turned herself back into a great bronze dragon and
grasped both of them painfully in her talons. She flew quickly to
the west, extending her magic to protect them from the worst of the
elements, as their silken garments were little to protect them from
the cold. Lesariu reasoned that their tempers could use a good
cooling at any rate and certainly didn’t hesitate to inform them of
such.
The dragon circled high above what remained
of the battlefield Tristan had been on just weeks before. The
carcasses of the fallen giants still smoldered as they were slowly
burnt, siege engines and towers littered the landscape. Tristan
knew this little field trip was more for Mina’s sake, though he
couldn’t help but being to fully appreciate the progress he’d made
into Terum as he admired his forward lines. Small watchtowers had
been erected every fifty yards and smoke billowed from their
chimneys as the soldiers inside tried to keep warm in their
off-hours. Snow blew across the barren plains, covering the worst
of the carnage and only drawing attention to the larger carcasses
and destroyed buildings and siege engines that remained.
He felt the familiar pressure of Lesariu’s
voice in his mind as she flew farther west. This is what the
father of your son has been doing for over a year. She
explained. What remains of Draconis’ Bane has joined with
this army led by a bandit Lord who is enthralled to a sorceress.
Tristan only has the barest sense of the forces at play behind her,
but I can assure you both that they will test the will of mankind
to its utter limit.
They flew farther west as the smoke from
fires and machine shops created large black clouds of smog. An
immense army of creatures, men and magicians gathered in large
well-lit places as they took part in dark rites. Several shouts of
both rapture and terror could be heard, even at their elevation.
Tristan had to force himself to pay attention to what he saw,
hoping against all hope that he could perhaps use this knowledge to
his advantage in the spring as he pressed the invasion forward.
Regardless, Mina found the sight nearly impossible to watch, and
turned her face away from the carnage below.
Tristan’s fears are not unfounded. Lesariu insisted in an almost pleading tone. Your son cannot
escape his fate. He must fight, or he will die. Art and poetry are
of little help to him.
When they had returned to Delhi, Mina had
barricaded herself in her apartments and cried herself to sleep,
refusing to even allow her servants into the room. She didn’t
resurface until breakfast the next morning, her eyes still swollen
and red despite her best efforts. While she dug a piece of
grapefruit out with her spoon she sighed and asked