Warlord and wizard crouched in a tandra thicket. Kheda saw that some of the men washed up on the shore who had fallen terrified to the sands were cautiously lifting their heads. One made a dash for the dubious safety of the trees. The dragon ignored him, still intent on reducing the nut-palm thicket to smouldering fragments. More of the men ran for their lives.

They'll never believe I swam ashore in this armour.

Kheda threw his helm aside and began wrestling his way free of his own hauberk.

'I've got to get away from it,' Dev said fervently, shaking like a man wracked with fever.

'We've got to get away from all this tinder.' Alarmed, Kheda saw the dry husks of tandra pods start smoking. A tuft of the white fibres within flared up. He flailed at it with his armour before the oily black seeds ignited.

'It knows its magic speaks to mine,' Dev said with difficulty. 'That's how it's going to find me.'

'This beast's too cursed clever by half.' Kheda looked at the dragon standing in the midst of theblackened nut-palm stumps. The creature had lifted its head and was surveying the trees and brush that fringed the beach. 'But you said it was doing a wizard's will. Where is he?'

'I've no idea,' said Dev tightly. 'All I know is that thing wants me dead.'

The dragon took a few paces along the shore and blasted a striol-choked spinefruit tree into fiery oblivion.

Could I escape, along with whoever else has washed ashore, while it hunted him down?

But Dev saved my life, so I'm bound by every code of honour to try to save his barbarian, magic-cursed hide. Besides, this magewoman won't be too inclined to offer her help if she learns that I left him to be eaten by the beast.

'What do you suppose it wants more?' Kheda said slowly. 'Do you think we could escape it if it was sated with gems?'

'They're all at the bottom of the strait along with the Mist Dove? Dev watched with sick apprehension as the dragon studied the spreading blaze it had created, tongue tasting the air.

'No, they're not,' Kheda said with growing determination. 'Look.'

Several of the survivors were seizing chests or coffers from the broken wreckage scattered on the shore before scurrying towards the forest.

'That fire's coming our way.' Dev began backing out of the tandra thicket.

Kheda stood his ground despite the scarlet flames crawling towards them, crackling and spitting. 'Can you distract it somehow, while I try to find some gems? We can at least buy some time to run. How far do we have to go before it loses your scent?'

'I've no idea,' spat Dev. 'There's no hiding from it-'

Kheda slapped the mage hard across the face. 'You're a lot of despicable things but you've never been a coward. Don't start now!' He caught Dev's arm, barely saving himself from the wizard's fist in his face.

'How can you distract it?

Dev rubbed his flushed cheek. 'We could see what it makes of your armour if I set it melting,' he muttered without conviction. 'Leave it there.'

'Just keep one step ahead of it.' Kheda gripped Dev's arm, trying to encourage the mage. 'I'll be back.'

Dev pulled away and disappeared into the trees. His bare feet left scorched, smouldering prints in the dry leaf litter.

Kheda caught up his swords and ran along the edge of the shore. He scanned the trees urgently for any signs of the Mist Dove's crew.

'My lord!' An ashen-faced oarsman peered out from behind a spinefruit tree. He flinched and ducked back again as a ball of fire erupted in the trees behind Kheda.

The warlord flung himself into the shelter of the spine-fruit's shadow. 'Do you have any gems?' he demanded. 'Did you pick any up?'

'No, my lord,' the hapless rower quavered.

Kheda looked back to see a pillar of flame snaking up into the sky. The dragon sprang into the air and circled it, lashing at the writhing scarlet fire with its tail. It was all far too close for comfort; Kheda could feel the heat on his forehead.

'Come on.' He drew a sword and began hacking a path through the tangled underbrush. 'Chazen!' he yelled. 'To me! We need gems to fill the creature's mouth or we'll all get eaten!'

A couple of terrified archers appeared on either side of a tandra thicket. Neither had bow nor arrows but one clutched a small coffer in his shaking hands. Kheda hurried forwards and seized it. His heart sank. It was his physic chest.

'That's something,' he said tightly. 'Look after it. But we need gems.'

'My lord.' Another rower appeared, this time holding one of the coffers of jewels so grudgingly sent from the Daish treasury.

'Good man,' Kheda breathed with heartfelt relief. 'Are there any more?'

There were stirrings further along the shore. Unseen, some man called out to another, passing the word of Kheda's appearance and of his search for gems.

'Come on.' The warlord led his stunned, disparate band further away from the dragon.The creature was now roaring horribly at the pillar of flames. Every time it blasted the taunting inferno into oblivion with its fiery breath, the stubborn blaze sprang back up again.

That hauberk was definitely bad luck. Whatever Dev's doing, how much longer can it last?

'My lord.' A handful of shocked oarsmen appeared from behind a sandy outcrop.

'Gems.' One thrust another small coffer at Kheda.

The warlord took it and looked around the stricken handful of survivors. A strange calm came over him as he put the only plan he could think of into halting words. 'I'll see if I can distract the beast, then I'll make a run for it. Get yourselves over to the far side of this island. Find the most northerly point. Wait until dusk and try to flag down a fisherman. Don't light a fire, that'll only attract the beast. I'll try to join you.'

'My lord-' the man still clutching the physic chest protested inarticulately.

'Give me that.' Kheda took the ebony and silver coffer and knelt to open it. He found a small wax-sealed box and tucked it inside the front of his sweaty, sandy tunic. 'Go on. You have to take word of what's happened back if I don't return.' He looked at the men now staring at him, aghast. 'I can't and won't ask any of you to do this. This is my duty to you as your lord.'

And how better to find out if I am truly doing the right thing by Chazen, or if I'm truly cursed to die by the magic that I've brought to this domain.

'Go!' he barked, with all the authority he could summon.

Slowly, the survivors of the disaster backed away. As they turned to see where they were going, they began to move more quickly. Soon they were running away through the forest, heedless of the noise they were making.

Kheda picked up the two jewel coffers by their rope handles. They weren't overlarge but were still heavy enough to drag painfully at his arms as he walked slowly out from the shelter of the trees.

The dragon had finally managed to quell the impudent flame Dev had raised against it and was stamping violently on the ground where Kheda had left his armour. Its vehement throbbing growl made Kheda's head ache.

The warlord walked slowly down to the waterline and scanned the debris, glancing up at the dragon with every second step. He saw another battered chest and splashed into the shallows to retrieve it.

Movement caught the corner of his eye and he halted, knee-deep in the water. The dragon was looking at him, heavy blunt head cocked to one side. Faint trails of smoke rose from its nostrils. It snorted and the smoke stopped.

Kheda straightened his back and stared the dragon straight in the eye. It looked back at him, unmistakable intelligence in that white fire lighting its ruby eyes. Kheda swung one of the coffers at arm's length, backwards and forwards, the arc lengthening with every swing. Putting all his strength behind it, he flung the little chest down the beach. The dragon's eyes followed it as it flew through the air and landed with a solid thud further down the waterline.

Kheda stood still. The dragon stared back at him before turning to look over its shoulder into the unrevealing trees. Kheda threw a second chest, the effort forcing out an unintended groan. The chest landed and broke open. The dragon's head whipped around and the light in its eyes glowed brighter. It took a pace forward before looking at Kheda again.

He threw the third chest as far as he could. It fell not far from the first, Daish workmanship holding firm.

Just what I don't need. What do I do now? There's no way I'm going any closer to open the cursed things!

The dragon took another few paces forward, its attention switching between the two unopened coffers and the one spilling bright jewels over the white sands. Kheda began walking slowly backwards, feeling his way as best he could to avoid tripping over broken wood and bodies. The dragon ignored him as it crouched low to run its tongue over the scattered jewels.

Kheda risked a glance over his shoulder as he shifted his path towards the tree line. A few more men were dragging themselves out of the water and scrambling across the sand. He looked back to see that the dragon wasn't interested in them, and was advancing on the two unopened chests.Now Kheda was half-way between the waterline and the trees. He abandoned caution as the dragon broke open the second coffer with a splintering claw. He ran for the forest, but rather than join the fleeing rowers, he doubled back towards the blasted ruin of the tandra thicket where he'd left Dev. His heart pounded in his chest as he tried to recall the oath the wizard had taken. Caught unawares, he skidded to a halt as he saw the black footprints charred into the dry leaves. Curbing the urge to shout out the barbarian's name, he forced his way through the entangling brush. Behind him on the beach, the dragon's growl had softened to an unnerving croon.

Dev hadn't got far. Kheda fell over him behind a green-stained outcrop. The mage was lying in the shade of the rock, eyes tightly closed, arms wrapped around himself and shaking violently.

Kheda dropped to his knees. 'Dev,' he whispered urgently, shaking him. He snatched back his hand as the coarse hairs on the wizard's forearm slid away to dust beneath his seared fingers. The heat within the mage was singeing him hairless.

Back on the beach, the dragon roared with sudden fury. Kheda heard the deafening clap of its wings. He looked at Dev. Before he had time to think, he caught up a rock the size of his fist. He winced as he smacked it into the side of Dev's head. The wizard moaned and went limp. Kheda ducked as the dragon made a pass overhead, the wind from its wings setting the leaves rattling. As the shadow passed, he tried to drag Dev further into the shallow hollow beneath the overhang and tested the wound he had inflicted with careful fingers.

You don't seem to have cracked his skull. That's one good thing. Or is it? No one would have batted an eyelid if you'd returned without your awkward slave, who could then be safely praised as a hero for spending his life in your service.

No, we've been here before. I didn't kill him then and I won't kill him now, not unless it's the only way to save ourselves from the dragon. I owe him more than that.

And he owes this domain a more valuable death, if it comes to it. There's still much his blood could do to wash away the stain he's brought to these islands.

Kheda glowered at the unconscious Dev as he reached inside his tunic and brought out the wax-sealed box. Cracking the tightly fitted lid open, he found that the speckled powder inside was still largely dry. Forcing the unconscious wizard's jaw open, he tipped a hefty dose on to his tongue. After a moment's thought, he ripped the sleeve from his tunic and bound the wizard's mouth closed. Then he ducked down as the dragon swept overhead again.

Going back to the shore. Then we're going the other way.

Forcing himself upright, Kheda dragged Dev's senseless body on to his shoulders and began breaking a path though the undergrowth, heading away from the nightmare on the beach.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

Sitting in a high-backed chair upholstered with painstaking needlepoint, Velindre allowed herself a moment to enjoy the warm sunshine pouring through the unshuttered window. Then she opened the crisp new almanac lying in the lap of her lavender gown and ticked off the twenty-ninth day of Aft-Spring.

Carefully setting her pen down on the octagonal table at her elbow, she blew the ink dry and then closed the book. Her thin lips narrowed to invisibility. Thirty days here and still no closer to a decision.

She gazed out at the paved square beyond her window, its enclosed garden watered by a glittering central fountain. The sweeper was about his leisurely business brushing the flagstones free of dust, at the same time showing broad shoulders to keep the square free of Relshaz's hopeful indigents. A nursemaid in yellow livery shooed a gaggle of excited children out of one of the genteel houses with whitewashed walls and ruddy earthen-tiled roofs. As they rushed towards the circumscribed freedom of the central garden, some nameless youth pushing a handcart paused to talk to the nursemaid. After a glance up at the blind windows, the girl slipped something into his hand before hurrying after her charges. One of the two little girls was denouncing her bolder brother as he swung on the green-painted rails, hands on her diminutive hips.

Velindre lost interest in the pedestrian byplay, looking up at the scudding clouds dotting the clear blue sky. There was little enough power to tempt her. Relshaz was too far south to find the lofty ribbon of air she hadpulled down over Azazir's lake, and too far north to find its counterpart that raced high across Hadrumal.

All was as yet untroubled by the thunderstorms sweeping in off the gulf to break over Lescar and Caladhria, as the wide inland plains threw off the summer's heat. Far beyond the horizon, she could sense the long reach of Toremal cradling the broad gulf, its mountains denying passage to the turbulent winds of the open ocean.

There was little enough power but there was still sufficient to tempt her. Sweat prickled beneath her shoulder blades and under her breasts despite the moderate temperature of the room. With her newfound skills she might be able to summon the dragon once more, even with such dissipated breezes in these placid skies.

Another dragon, she corrected herself savagely. The first one was dead at the hands of Azazir's simulacrum. And it was no true dragon, merely a creature of magical contrivance and convenience.

But it had been a creature all the same that had delighted in the soaring element that so thrilled her. A creature condemned to fade and die before it had barely begun to comprehend where it was or what it was. Unless she threw it into a brutal fight to the death against some other wizard's equally enslaved magic.

Sweat beaded her forehead as she felt suddenly nauseous. Getting carefully to her feet, she crossed to a sideboard and poured herself a glass of wine. She was standing, motionless, holding the wine undrunk when a knock at the door startled her into spilling it all over the prettily embroidered linen draping the polished wood.

'You have a visitor, my dear.' The amiable widow who was renting her these two comfortable rooms beamed as she opened the door. 'You said you had no acquaintance in Relshaz,' she chided.

'I don't,' Velindre said curtly as she moved to hide the spilled wine from view.

'Well, dear, she says she's a friend of yours.' The widow's smile faltered and she brushed at the frivolous lace hanging from turtleshell combs supporting her complicated coiffure. 'She says she's Madam Esterlin.

Shall I show her up?'

'No need,' laughed a genial voice from the hallway. 'Velindre, my dear, no wonder you stay so slender, climbing all these stairs day in and day out.' A generously proportioned woman in an elegant gown of jade silk appeared in the doorway, fanning herself with a silver-mounted spread of vivid green feathers.

The widow bridled as the visitor sailed past her into the room. 'I'll leave you to your conversation.'

'Thank you.' Velindre managed a brief nod for her landlady. The widow shut the door with a force that spoke of her indignation.

The newcomer grimaced as she deposited a light wool wrap and her fan on an old-fashioned satinwood side table. 'I don't think she'll be bringing us wine and honey wafers.'

'Probably not.' Velindre folded her arms. 'This is an unexpected pleasure, Mellitha.'

'Unexpected, that much I'll grant you.' The newcomer's laugh had a harder edge now that the door was shut behind her. Her shrewd grey eyes took in every detail of the room, lingering on the table by the lustre-tiled fireplace where twenty or more leather-bound books were organised in precise piles. A thick sheaf of notes on expensive reed paper was set squarely between them. T was surprised to learn you'd been in the city for nearly half a season without calling on me.' She looked at Velindre, her plump face expectant.

'You're curious to know what I'm reading?' Velindre crossed the room in long strides to pick up the topmost book. 'Lawsenna on the history of Southern Toremal and-' she lifted the volume beneath '-Den Jaromire on the beasts and birds of the Cape of Winds.'

'You've sailed the Tormalin ocean coasts extensively.' Mellitha nodded with apparent understanding.

'Though I'm curious as to why my book merchant mentioned you've been buying everything and anything he can find on the nature and lore of dragons.'

Velindre replaced the books carefully. 'I'm hardly your pupil to explain myself to you. Still,' she continued, to forestall the words on the other woman's lips, 'I was Otrick's pupil, as you well know. It's not so remarkable that I'd be retracing his steps in my reading.''No, but I know full well you did that ten years ago and more. He told me as much himself Mellitha crossed the room in a rustle of lace-trimmed petticoats and sat in the chair matching the one Velindre had vacated. 'Since we're being so frank with each other,' she went on with distinct sarcasm, 'it's not so much what you're reading that piques my interest as where you're reading it. I'm surprised to find you away from Hadrumal.'

'One can learn many things beyond Hadrumal's shores,' Velindre responded smoothly. 'Otrick taught me that.'

'I would have thought Otrick taught you how to pour a fine wine without spilling it.' Mellitha leaned back in her chair to look at the stained cloth behind Velindre. The sunlight picked out the silver thick in her chestnut hair. 'Did he teach you how to rise above disappointed hopes?'

Velindre smiled coldly. 'You can reassure Flood Mistress Troanna or Archmage Planir, or whoever it is you're reporting to, that I'm not sitting here weeping over my shattered dreams.'

'I imagined Rafrid's elevation would still be a sensitive subject.' Mellitha waved an airy hand bejewelled with rings. 'You misunderstand me. I'm not here on anyone's behalf. Oh, when Planir's curious about something in this ant hill, I'll kick over a few stones if it suits me to find out more, but that's seldom called for. I have plenty of things to occupy my time, far more interesting things than reading inferior copies of books I found tedious the first time around in Hadrumal.

Which is why I'm curious to see you reading them.'

Velindre found her nausea retreating. 'These things that occupy you, they're matters of magic?' she queried.

'Relshaz has little or no interest in magic' Mellitha chuckled. 'And the games around the magistracies here make the scrambling for the high seats on Hadrumal's Council look very tame.'

'I've no doubt,' Velindre said distantly.

'I came to see if Otrick or anyone else had ever let you consider opportunities beyond Hadrumal for a woman of your intelligence and affinity.' Mellitha looked out of the window at the serene square. 'I've lived more than half my life here. I've made a handsome fortune, satisfied my own desires as I've seen fit and raised four happy, healthy children, all grown and gone now, leading their own lives as they see fit, mageborn or not.'

'I don't think I'm cut out to wheedle contracts to gather taxes out of a council of venal magistrates.'