Nine
Nieve
The gnarled peaks of the Boron mountains clawed at the dawning sky as they soared into range.
The frozen tips reminded Nieve of home—the tall mountains that bred ice elementals, like her.
But where Miradael was a cluster of narrow spires, the Borons stretched for miles, forming an impassable divide that ran from the north coast to the east. Her pang of homesickness was chased swiftly by guilt; she’d left Miradael for good reasons, but that didn’t mean her people didn’t need her.
She banished the thought.
There was a break in the chain below; Monmouth Valley, a cleft between mountains that stretched three miles or so. Tall and dark against the horizon, the keep stood proud in the centre of the valley, embedded into a ten-foot-high wall, its crenelated turrets like teeth against the dawning sky.
Nieve’s hair whipped across her eyes, and for the thousandth time, she swept it back as she peered over Ariadnne’s shoulder.
The dragon-queen was immense. Nieve could stand comfortably on her back, the long strap of her harness bracing her at the waist, instead of having to sit between spines the way she had on Lucius.
It was a wonderful feeling to balance on the undulating shoulder, a strip of leather the only thing between her and the plains below.
It was crowded down there, the campfires of allied troops sparkling like a sea of torchbugs in the murky dawn. Every minor lord must have sent soldiers—in case the dragons failed.
Given the raw power bunching beneath her feet, Nieve couldn’t imagine Ariadnne failing.
Melixanthe raised a fist, and around Nieve knights crouched, gripping the straps of the harness that criss-crossed Ariadnne’s hide. Nieve was slow to realise what this meant as Ariadnne tucked her wings and dropped, throwing her backwards.
She whooped, she couldn’t help herself, and the knight called Dantro glanced at her, chuckling, as she scrambled to cling on. There was retching as one of the High Lord’s men emptied his stomach to the sound of disgusted cries, spattering the poor knights behind.
Ariadnne’s wings snapped open last minute in a manoeuvre that shouldn’t be possible for a beast of her size. Nieve lurched, rattling her harness as Ariadnne lowered them gently to the ground.
That was…she… was incredible. Nieve would be the first to admit she didn’t understand the way the shifters changed with their beasts.
When asked, Lucius merely gave her the cryptic response that he was his dragon and his dragon was him, but they were also different.
She’d love to know how much of the dragon was Ariadnne.
Her heart pounded as she peeled her white-knuckled fingers from the leather strap. She wanted to go again.
Josef lowered the rope ladder and worked his way along Ariadnne’s spine, past unbuckling knights, to Lord D’avant and his men, helping them extract themselves from the harness and pick their way along the pearlescent ridge.
A tinge of puce coloured their faces, including that of the mighty High Lord.
Nieve chuckled and swung her legs over Ariadnne’s shoulder, sliding to the floor and bracing against the inevitable air-legs she’d experience until the ground stopped moving.
Lord D’avant gripped onto Melixanthe’s shoulder. ‘Nearly a hundred miles in just over an hour. I should hire you more often,’ he tried to jest but looked too sick. ‘I’ll be in the command tent, General. Join us as soon as you’ve seen to your knights.’
‘I won’t be long, my lord.’ Melixanthe nodded curtly, marching over to the ground crew to relay orders.
Nieve waited with the other knights at Ariadnne’s side as the camp took shape. The white-haired Gale beside her, Lucile, winked and Nieve let herself smile. Maybe she’d find a place in this company after all, even with guilt chewing at her heels.
They were shooed out of the way as harness engineers descended on Ariadnne, stripping the leather rig to begin the process of checking for faults. Everyone moved with the sharp precision of those used to war. This was their business, after all.
Nieve snuck another glance at the dragon behind her. Ariadnne was as far from Lucius as it was possible to get; where he was squat and stocky, she was long and serpentine. Where he moved with lumbering power, she coiled with delicate grace.
Like the delicate grace of Ariadnne’s sloped neck when she studiously examined her hands. Or the delicate blush that crept up her arched cheekbones each time she caught Nieve looking.
Ariadnne’s draconian head swung around, and this time Nieve was caught staring by a pool of violet larger than her head. Her ear tips warmed as the multi-faceted eye swirled and darkened to a deep indigo—then swung away as the dragon reared to watch the firedrakes land.
Lucius and Regulus were, as always, unabashed by their nudity and didn’t hesitate to transform and eat. Nieve’s blush spread as she wondered if Ariadnne would do the same.
The knights dispersed, but Ariadnne remained where she was. Nieve found herself reluctant to move.
‘You coming?’ Dantro shouted over his shoulder.
Nieve glanced at Ariadnne as the white dragon curled herself, cat-like, at the edge of the camp. A white mountain.
‘She won’t join us,’ Dantro said. ‘She doesn’t like strangers seeing her change. Especially here, with all the soldiers milling around.’ He smiled at Nieve. ‘She’ll be fine, don’t worry.’
‘Okay.’ Nieve joined him as he made his way to the already roaring fire. ‘What will she eat?’
‘The head engineer has already gone to ask for a pig. Why are you so worried?’
Nieve looked back. Ariadnne’s eyes were shut, but the restless twitch of her tail gave her away. She remembered Ariadnne speaking about her lack of choice.
‘Just getting used to the differences.’
She glanced around for her old company, missing them, and immediately spotted Sol glowering from across the fire.
Nieve’s collar suddenly felt tight and she took a seat on the makeshift bench between Dantro and a knight who introduced herself as Kayla.
Nieve soon learned Kayla had the ability to chat about everything and everyone without asking a single question.
Within minutes, Nieve learned that Kayla’s parents had passed away when she was young, leaving her to raise her two brothers herself, and that her bloodline was good, but her parents fortune had passed to an uncle so most of what she earned went to her brothers.
Nieve’s mind was elsewhere. ‘Oh,’ she nodded politely, accepting the bowl a servant held out.
The porridge was scalding, and she burnt her mouth on the first bite.
She grimaced and excused herself to grab a cup of water.
However, instead of the water barrel, her feet led her back to the ‘slumbering’ bulk of Ariadnne—whose tail still twitched.
‘Hey.’
The nearest eye flickered open, and a smile tickled the corner of Nieve’s mouth. Awake. She knew it. She gestured with her bowl to the floor by Ariadnne’s head.
‘Do you mind if I sit?’
She wasn’t sure if this was correct etiquette, but she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about how Ariadnne was alone and probably worried about the coming fight.
About how Melixanthe had called her ‘green’.
Ariadnne lifted her head off the ground, eyes swirling. She nodded.
‘Is that a ‘yes, I mind awfully’ nod?’ Nieve teased her. ‘Or a ‘please sit and talk my ear off’ nod?’
Ariadnne snorted, but she didn’t look inclined to push her away.
‘Okay. Good.’ Nieve crossed her legs to sit, blowing on her porridge. ‘I hope they managed to find you that pig?’ she asked as Ariadnne’s head sank back to the floor. ‘Lucius was constantly moaning about how hungry his shifts made him. I can’t imagine how hungry you must be. At your size.’
A delicate billow of icy air plumed from white nostrils, and the dragon rumbled. It sounded like a chuckle.
Nieve grew bolder. ‘Your company are lovely by the way. Kayla and Dantro have been very welcoming. Kayla, in particular.’ Nieve’s mouth widened. ‘That girl knows how to talk.’
Ariadnne snorted again, then her eyes closed as Nieve continued speaking about the view from Ariadnne’s back, the size of D’avant’s army, and the things she liked best about flying at night. Then she paused, the grass beneath her fingers dry as she plucked it.
‘I hope you don’t mind that I accepted the transfer without consulting you first.’ She twisted towards the now-lilac eye that watched her.
Ariadnne didn’t seem annoyed, so Nieve shuffled closer, turning her back so she could lean against Ariadnne’s cool scales.
Being the only one who could talk was making her bold, but there was a pressure to say the right thing.
Something that would help. She decided to be honest.
‘You made me think, you know. When you said I should care about why. I’ve always trusted my leaders to make the right calls. I usually make the wrong ones, you see, when left to my own devices.’ A shard of breath lodged in her chest. That was truer than she’d like to admit.
‘But I shouldn’t rely on blind trust and ignorance. I want to be better than that. Better than ‘just’ a mercenary.’ She sighed. ‘I’m not sure that helps right now. I guess, today we just need to survive.’
Ariadnne tensed beneath her.
‘I wish I could tell you it’s going to be fine.
’ Nieve closed her eyes. She was struck by how small she was in comparison to Ariadnne, yet how vulnerable Ariadnne seemed—as though she needed someone to keep her safe.
A soft smile tugged at her lips as Ariadnne’s muscles uncoiled and the dragon released a long breath.
‘Yeah. Me too,’ she wholeheartedly agreed.
*
The sun was approaching its zenith when Melixanthe jogged back to camp. She had been in the command tent for the best part of the morning.
Nieve caught the glance the general threw at her as she lay, dozing, against Ariadnne’s flank and struggled to interpret it. A lump formed in her throat as Ariadnne tensed, and Nieve scrambled to join those who’d already formed ranks.
Melixanthe raised a hand.
‘The army has been spotted on the horizon. We have perhaps an hour, maybe two, before they are in range. It is command’s preference that we keep them away from the wall, thin their ranks before they come in range of the keep’s archers.
Ariadnne, as your first larger assignment, you’ll be responsible for culling foot soldiers.
’ She nodded towards the males. ‘Lucius and Regulus, you will concentrate on ballistae and war machines.’ She paused, shooting the males a second look.
‘Don’t fatigue too early. This could be a long one and I know what you’re like. ’
Regulus grumbled, Lucius elbowing him to keep quiet.
‘I would assume they are prepared to face our kind. Be careful and keep your eyes open.’ She clapped her hands. ‘You have thirty minutes.’
The knights nodded, faces grim. They were paid to be the Kingdom’s primary offence, to bear the brunt of the attack, and everyone knew a battle this size might get ugly.
With a burst of energy both Lucius and Regulus shifted into their glorious black and red skins, lowering themselves to be harnessed. Engineers surrounded Ariadnne, slinging straps over her shoulders and fixing them in place down her length.
Nieve checked her bow and hurried towards the ladder, catching Melixanthe as she lay both her hands on Ariadnne’s snout, an uncharacteristically tender gesture.
The moment wasn’t meant for Nieve’s eyes, but it opened them regardless. There was another side to the general that Nieve hadn’t met. A softer side. And something about the way Ariadnne followed her so readily made more sense, although Nieve still thought Melixanthe controlling.
But what did Nieve know? She’d promised herself she’d give Melixanthe a chance, so a chance she would give her.