The Blade of Highwind: The Complete Trilogy by Sarah Hawke

Author:Sarah Hawke [Hawke, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jade Fantasy
Published: 2023-09-26T16:00:00+00:00

8

A Change of Pace

Mirek

“A single dragon could change the world.”

Taras turned to face me, a proud smile behind his waterlogged black beard. Above us, another trio of manticore riders swooped overhead, eliciting a bellowing cheer from the thousands of onlookers packed into the edges of the Imperial Square below. Even the rain couldn’t sour their mood.

“Just imagine the sight of a true Wyrm Lord at the head of this army,” he said, leaning against the battlements of the Imperial Palace. “His scales glinting in the sunlight as the shadow of a hundred manticore riders trailed behind him.”

“I can imagine the dragon,” I replied evenly. “It’s the sunlight that’s giving me trouble.”

Taras laughed. “You are too dour, brother. This is a day for celebration! We march to glory in Zarach’s name.”

“More like the Council’s name,” I muttered, too low for the courtiers and sycophants crowding nearby to hear. “Do you really think the Immortal Dragon would be proud of the third army marching north to try and recapture a single fortress?”

His laughter faded, taking his smile with it. “We are fighting to save sorcerers from bigotry and oppression all over Torsia. Why wouldn’t he be proud?”

I didn’t reply. It was too cold and dreary to resurrect the old argument, especially since the decision had already been made. There was nothing either of us could do to change what was about to happen. Yet again, my brother was being sent back to fight on the Galvian front.

Yet again, he would be leaving his family behind.

“You worry so much about the future that you forget to live in the present,” Taras admonished. “Berial says that you are his best pupil in a generation, but I never hear you speak of your achievements. Father doesn’t even know that—”

“Father won’t care unless I invent a spell that conjures us a seat on the Council,” I interrupted. “Explaining my research over dinner would only bore him.”

Taras sighed and shook his head, yet his posture remained firm and upright despite fifty pounds of armor covered by a thoroughly sodden cloak. “When your name is on the lips of every scholar in Drakendaar, I promise he will wear his pride on his sleeve. He will come around, little brother, I know it.”

I finally found my smile. “I just don’t want you to have to leave again. Your son—”

“Has a mother who will take care of him,” Taras said. “And an uncle who will protect him.”

Once again, it seemed pointless to argue. And this time, he wasn’t even wrong. I would fight for Taras’s children as if they were my own. Besides, it didn’t seem likely I’d be having any, at this rate.

“Forget the rain,” Taras said, stepping closer and taking me by the arm. “Forget the army, forget the manticores…just let your imagination run wild for a moment.”

“It’s running,” I said. “Where’s it going?”

“A few thousand years into the past. Imagine two princes standing atop the battlements of Tir Lanathel, their armies massed in formation awaiting their command. Imagine the dragon knights at our flank and the Wyrmguard legions at our backs.

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