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Serillia threw the jewel-encrusted crown the length of the room and screamed in frustration. Nothing was going as planned. Her hopes for a magnificent parade seemed doomed to failure, and all because the Lord Cantor had taken it upon himself to send the soldiers - who were meant to march behind her in all their great numbers – off on some stupid military manoeuvres.
They’d been gone for two full moons and there was no sign of their return. Her dragons were also missing and, all in all, she was not having a good time of it.
She had awoken in a foul mood and had sent dish after breakfast dish back to the kitchens untouched. Her appetite – which had fast become legendary – was lost to her and that, in itself, should have warned her servants and her courtiers to watch out.
A servant retrieved the discarded crown and replaced it on its velvet pillow then stood, with head and eyes bowed, to wait out the queen’s temper.
She had sent for Cantor and was kept waiting overlong. There was bad blood between them, but even Cantor should’ve realised that keeping the queen waiting was not the best of ideas.
When he finally arrived, he showed no sign of contrition for his tardiness and Serillia couldn’t let that pass unobserved.
‘You ungracious, discourteous oaf!’ she exclaimed. ‘I should have you tied to a Kallip and dragged the length and breadth of the tundra for your tardiness.’
Cantor merely shrugged with indifference and his lack of apology infuriated her all the more. She couldn’t fathom why he no longer seemed afraid of her, or her dragons.
Truth be told, at that moment, Cantor was very afraid. He’d sent a message – hoping it would reach Bastross and prevent him bringing Astra into what could ultimately be her death – and he knew that his own life, and the glorious future he had mapped out for himself, now hung in the balance. It had been a pique of foolishness that had kept him from immediately answering the queen’s call for him to attend her, and it was a further pique of foolishness that had him standing in front of her with a blank expression and no words of apology on his lips.
He stood quietly and listened as she screamed abuse at him and only moved when she hurled a large cup at his head.
Then, incredibly, she fell silent and he was shocked to see tears stream from her eyes and pour down her face.
‘Majesty?’ Despite his growing dislike and disdain for her, he was strangely moved by her tears. ‘Are you ill... in pain?’ He reached out a tentative hand and took her elbow, easing her down into a chair. He turned to the servant and ordered her to get her mistress a goblet of wine.
‘I’m... I’m out of sorts,’ she said through the tears.
‘The parade is merely delayed, your grace. There’s no need for this upset.’
‘It’s not just the parade,’ she whimpered. ‘It’s my dragons... where are my dragons?’
‘Close, I’m sure,’ he soothed.
She shook her head vehemently. ‘Something’s wrong... I know it.’
At length, he said, ‘They are formidable... invincible. They can’t come to any harm.’
‘Then why...?’ she almost screamed. ‘Why do I have this emptiness in my chest?’
The servant offered her the goblet of wine and Serillia immediately swiped it to the floor. Cantor stepped back, but not in time to prevent his legs from being splashed and stained.
‘I want you to send out a search party. I want them found.’
‘I’m afraid that’s impossible,’ Cantor replied. ‘I can’t spare any of the remaining soldiers. It would leave the castle unguarded.’
‘Who are you to question my orders?’ she cried out, quite overwhelmed with emotion. ‘You sent my soldiers... my army away, and now you complain about leaving the castle unguarded?’
‘There are enough to guard us, my queen, but insufficient to send any on a search for your dragons.’
‘I don’t care!’ she screamed, leaping to her feet. ‘I order it... I order you!’
It was obvious that she was on the verge of hysteria, and Cantor felt there was nothing else for it but to acquiesce. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘I’ll arrange for a small search party immediately.’
To his utter amazement, she fell to her knees at his feet and thanked him.
*
DARIUS, MAVICK AND Septor – the three royal guards – had made haste from the space port, intent on reaching the eastern shore of the Karrap sea before the setting of two moons. They would then turn due west and head towards the hills to the west of the royal castle, where they planned to meet up with Macha, the robot and the witch. All in all, their journey would take four moons.
When Macha had told them to head off on a different route, Darius had wanted to argue against splitting up. He didn’t feel comfortable openly disputing her order, but his expression said it all.
Macha had looked at him with a question on her face and gestured for him to speak what was on his mind.
He said, ‘Quite apart from the danger of us going off in separate directions, the length of time it would take us to travel overland would mean that we wouldn’t be at hand if you needed us. We’ve landed on a planet gearing up for war, and it’s a hostile and dangerous place for all of us. There’s safety in numbers, and – for that reason – I say we stick together.’
Mavick and Septor nodded their agreement.
Macha had a counter argument ready. She was impatient to be moving on but felt obliged to put Darius and his companions straight on why she wanted to send them off in another direction. She asked, ‘What if Astra is caught out there on the tundra? What if they took her overland?’
‘It’s more likely that they took her across the Karrap,’ Darius returned.
‘But, not certain. This way... my way... ensures that both possibilities are covered. We will take the sea route... but head east so, when we land, we can sweep west ahead of you. We’ll then head for the hills to the west of the castle and wait for you. It’s my hope that one of our group will come across Astra and her abductors on the way.’
They took their leave of one another with haste and more than a little foreboding – Macha, Zax and Cauldronia setting off across the water, and Darius, Mavick and Septor going off at a trot across land.
The royal guards were fine specimens – strong and hard and well used to the rigours of travelling great distances on foot – and they made good time following the sea coast east towards the tundra south of the Great lakes. The weather was favourable, and the heat of the sun bearable, and they succeeded in reaching the far east coast of the sea just as the sun had set and the moon had risen high in the sky.
They slept on the hard ground and rose before dawn to embark on the second leg of their journey – to go north and then turn, at last, to head west. They anticipated a further three moons before they would catch sight of the hills where Macha’s group would be waiting – longer if they had to take any detours to avoid being seen.
They smelled the bodies before they caught sight of them.
‘That’s scorched flesh,’ Mavick said, sniffing the air.
‘And, sulphur,’ Darius added.
All three halted and their silence was grim. They each knew what they were about to witness, and they only hoped that the bodies didn’t include the girl.
If they happened to find the girl dead, it wouldn’t be a small thing to any of them. They had each suffered losses, failures and great disappointments in their lives, and they had learned to accept everything with a soldier’s harsh resignation, but they knew that the ordeal of finding Astra dead would test even their stoic diffidence.
The acrid stench of sulphur hung in the air and, with some trepidation, they ventured forward.
‘Soldiers,’ Darius said flatly. ‘Plutonians.’
‘What could’ve done this?’ Mavick asked, stunned.
‘Atomfire?’ Septor suggested.
‘Not any atomfire I’ve ever seen,’ Septor returned.
When they found the remains of the dragon, it all made sense.
‘It’s had its guts ripped open,’ Darius mentioned, unnecessarily. ‘These Plutonians surely exacted a vicious revenge.’
‘I’m not so sure it was the soldiers,’ Mavick said. ‘Look...’ He hunkered down and pointed. ‘Those aren’t sword or knife wounds. They look like... they look like claw and teeth marks.’
‘May the Sun God preserve us,’ Darius said. ‘There must be a monster loose somewhere.’
‘I know of no monsters on Icarrion,’ Septor returned. ‘And, this isn’t our dragon.’
‘No,’ Darius agreed. ‘This one is female.’
‘You think our dragon did this?’
Darius shrugged at Mavick and turned towards the shore. ‘That looks like the boat Macha took across the sea,’ he said, pointing to the small craft bobbing in the waves to is left. ‘There’s no way to tell if they sailed right into this melee and if they’re all right.’
‘We’d better do a thorough search before we move on,’ Septor said. ‘Make sure they’re not buried amongst the dead.’
Darius rubbed his chin and stared at his companions with dread. ‘You think...?’
Septor nodded. ‘It’s likely that they perished with the soldiers.’
‘You can’t know that,’ Darius protested.
‘No... I don’t know, but we have to make sure.’
So, with great unease and great distaste, they began their search.
It wasn’t a pleasant experience and it took far longer than any of them wanted. By the time they’d checked under every single charred and smouldering body, they were filthy, exhausted and sickened.
‘Thank the Sun God,’ Darius sighed. ‘They’re alive.’
‘That means nothing,’ Septor said. ‘They could have been captured.’
‘Yes,’ Mavick said, wiping the sweat from his brow with the cuff of a sleeve ‘There are heavy wagon tracks and a multitude of footsteps heading west. We could assume that Macha, Zax and the witch are with them... as their prisoners.’
Darius shook his head. ‘Macha wouldn’t allow herself to be taken alive.’
‘Not unless Astra was with them... a prisoner herself,’ Septor put in.
That wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility and Darius conceded as much.
A silence settled on them, disturbed only by the buzz of the scavenging flies, and it was some minutes before any one of them spoke.
‘I guess that these are Damanacree’s soldiers?’ He gave a sharp gesture of his head.
Both Septor and Mavick nodded.
‘Plutonian mercenaries,’ Septor said. ‘I recognise their insignia.’
‘I count at least a thousand dead.’
‘Your count is out, Darius,’ Septor returned. ‘I say at least twelve hundred.’
‘There’s at least three times that number still alive, then.’ Darius looked at the footsteps leaving the scene. ‘And, they’ve apparently not given up on their quest. They head east and the castle.’
‘So, it’s war, then.’ Septor sighed and ran a weary hand through his hair. ‘May the Sun God help us all.’