KATHARINE KERR
THE FIRE DRAGON
Book Three of The Dragon Mage
COPYRIGHT
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the authors imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
HarperVoyager
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First published in Great Britain by Voyager 2000
Copyright © Katharine Kerr 2000
Cover design and illustration by Micaela Alcaino © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2020
Katharine Kerr asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
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Source ISBN: 9780006482611
Ebook Edition © JULY 2014 ISBN: 9780007375387
Version: 2019-12-10
DEDICATION
For my grandfather,
John Brahtin
He gave me my social conscience
CONTENTS
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Author's Note
Part One
Part Two
Epilogue
Keep Reading
Appendices
Glossary
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Also by the Author
About the Publisher
AUTHORS NOTE
It occurs to me that readers might find it helpful to know something about the overall structure of the Deverry series. From the beginning of this rather large enterprise, I have had an actual ending in mind, a set of events that should wrap up all the books in a dramatic conclusion. Its merely taken me much longer to get there than I ever thought it would.
If you think of Deverry as a stage play, the sets of books make up its acts. Act One consists of the Deverry books proper, that is, Daggerspell, Darkspell, Dawnspell, and Dragonspell. The Westlands books, A Time of Exile, A Time of Omens, A Time of War, and A Time of Justice, make up Act Two, while Act Three will unfold in the current quartet, The Dragon Mage, that is, The Red Wyvern, The Black Raven, and its sister, The Fire Dragon. The Gold Falcon will bring the sequence to its end at last.
As for the way that the series alternates between past and present lives, think of the structure of a line of Celtic interlace, some examples of which have decorated the various books in this set. Although each knot appears to be a separate figure, when you look closely you can see that they are actually formed from one continuous line. Similarly, this line weaves over and under itself to form the figures. A small section of line seems to run over or under another line to form a knot.
The past incarnations of the characters in this book and their present tense story really are one continuous line, but this line interweaves to form the individual volumes. Eventually soon, I hope the pattern will complete itself, and you will be able to see that the set of books forms a circle of knots.
Katharine Kerr
PART ONE
Deverry Spring, 850
The year 850. The gods saw fit to give our prince the victory, but never had we dreamt how high a price they would set for it.
The Holy Chronicles of Lughcarn
Sunlight streamed into the tower room and pooled on the wooden floor. Grey gnomes with spindle legs and warty faces materialized in the warmth and lolled like cats. Despite his great age, Nevyn felt tempted to join them. He sat in the chambers only chair and considered his apprentice, who was sitting cross-legged among the gnomes. She turned her face up to the sun and ran one hand through her blond hair, which fell to her shoulders in a ragged wave.
Springs truly here, Lilli said. Im so glad of it, and yet I dread summer. You must, too.
I do, Nevyn said. It wont be long now before the army rides out, and the gods only know what the battles will bring.
Just so. All I can do is pray that Branoic rides home safely.
Youve grown truly fond of Branoic, havent you?
I have. The prince doesnt like it much. Lilli opened her eyes and turned to look up at him. You dont think hed do anything dishonourable, would you?
Prince Maryn, you mean? What sort of dishonour
Letting Branno be killed in battle. Putting him in harms way somehow. It sounds so horrid when I say it aloud. I cant imagine Maryn doing such a thing, truly. Im just frightened, I suppose, and its colouring my fancies.
No doubt. Nevyn hesitated, wondering if her fear were only fancy or some half-seen omen. As apprentices so often did, she picked up his thought.
Ive been meaning to ask you somewhat, Lilli went on. You know how the omens used to come to me? Id be sewing or thinking of some ordinary thing, and then all of a sudden the words would come bursting out of my mouth?
I remember it well.
It doesnt happen any more.
Good. Nevyn smiled at her. Its a common thing, that a person marked for the dweomer will have some wild gift, but when she starts a proper course of study, she loses the knack. Later, once you truly understand what youre doing, the gift will return to you.
I see. To tell you the truth, Im just as glad. Id be terrified if I could see well, you know someones death.
Just so. Nevyn hesitated, thinking. It was likely that if grave harm befell either the prince or her betrothed, she would know, no matter how far away she was. He decided that worrying her the more would serve no purpose and changed the subject. I need to be on my way. The prince is holding a council at noon, he said, so I suppose Id better get myself there. He stood up, stretching his arms above his head. You may finish the lesson I set you from the dweomer book.
Those awful lists?
I realize that the memory work is tedious. Nevyn arranged a mock-fierce expression. But those calls and invocations will come in handy some fine day. Learn that first page for today.
I do understand. Ive got part of them off by heart already.
Splendid. Keep at it. But if you finish before I get back, theres no need for you to stay shut up inside. The more sun you get, the better.
Nevyn hurried down the stone stairs, which still exuded a wintry chill, and walked out to the sunlight and the main ward of Dun Deverry and the looming towers of the dun itself. Not even the bright spring day could turn the smoke-blackened stone cheerful. The fortress spread out over the top of a hill, bound by six high stone walls, lying at intervals down the hill like chains upon the earth. Tall towers, squat brochs, wooden sheds, long barracks and stables they sprawled in a plan turned random by hundreds of years of decay, the fires of war, and the disasters of siege, followed by what new building and fortifying the kings had been able to afford. In among the buildings lay cobbled wards and plain dirt yards, cut up by stone walls, some isolated, all confusing.
In the centre of this tangle, however, lay a proper ward, and in its centre rose the tidy cluster of brochs and towers that housed the prince, his family, his personal guards, and the many officials and servants that made up his court. Against the black stone bright banners displayed a red wyvern on a cream ground, lifting and trembling in the breeze. As Nevyn was crossing this ward, he saw Princess Bellyra just leaving the main broch tower. With two pages and one of her husbands bards in attendance, she was heading for the door of one of the side buildings. Dressed in blue linen, she walked slowly, her hands resting on her belly, heavy with her third child. Her honey-coloured hair was bound up in a scarf stiff with embroidery, as befitted a married woman of her rank.
Nevyn! she called out. Are you off to the high council?
I am, your highness. Why are you going inside in this lovely weather?
Its that bit of old map you found for me. I simply have to go see the room it refers to.
Ah, indeed. Im curious about it myself, actually. If you could let me know what you find?
I will. But youd best hurry. Maryns been looking for you.
Nevyn bowed, then hurried through the double doors of the central broch. The great hall covered the entire ground floor, a huge round room scattered with wooden tables, benches, and a small collection of chairs at the table reserved for the prince himself. At either side stood enormous stone hearths, one for the princes riders and the servants, the other, far grander, for the noble-born. Despite the spring warmth outside, fires smouldered in each to drive off the damp.
Nevyn wove his way through the tables and the dogs scattered on the straw-strewn floor. About halfway between doors and hearths a stone staircase spiralled up the wall. Hed climbed only a few steps when someone hailed him from below. He turned to see Councillor Oggyn just mounting the stairs himself. He was a stout man, Oggyn, and egg-bald, though he sported a bristling black beard. He was carrying an armful of rolled parchments.
Good day, Nevyn said. Are those the ledgers?
They are, my lord, Oggyn said. Ive recorded all the dues and taxes owed our prince by the royal demesne. Im cursed glad he can count on the Cerrmor taxes for a while longer.
So am I. Getting the army fit to march would strip his local holdings bare.
Just so. Well have to wait for provisions from the south, and thats that. I just hope our prince sees reason. I know hes impatient to be on the move.
Oh, Im sure he will. Im hoping that our enemies are as badly off as we are.
They climbed in silence to the first landing, where Oggyn paused to catch his breath. He looked out over the great hall below while he mopped his bald head with a rag.
Somewhat else I wanted to lay before you, my lord, Oggyn said. I saw our princess going about her investigations just now. Is that wise?
Well, the midwives all swear that the walking will do her naught but good.
Splendid, but thats not quite my meaning. That bard. Is he fit company for her?
Ah. I see.
Nevyn considered his answer. During the winter past, Maddyn, the bard in question, had caught Oggyn out in some shameful doings and written a flyting song about them. It was his right as a bard to do so, but in his shame Oggyn wouldnt be caring about rights and duties.
He is, truly. Nevyn decided that brevity was best. Ive never met a man more aware of his station in life. If anything, hes perhaps too modest for a bard.
Oggyn set his lips together hard and stared for a moment more.
Ah well, Oggyn said at last. None of my affair, anyway. Shall we go up?
By all means. We should find the prince and his brother there before us.
I shant be able to climb around like this much longer. Bellyra laid both hands on her swollen belly. But I couldnt stand not knowing. I wonder if there truly is a secret passage. Tell me, Maddo. Doesnt that mark look like it means a doorway of some kind?
Maddyn held the fragment of mouldy parchment up to an arrow slit for the sunlight. They were standing in a wedge-shaped chamber part way up one of the half-brochs, which joined the central tower like petals round the centre of a daisy. According to the piece of map, this chamber should have had two doors, the one by which theyd entered and another directly across. Yet the inward bulge of the stone wall opposite showed nothing.