Nihal of the Land of the Wind

  The minute he saw Nihal, he reared up on his hind legs and roared in rage.

  Nihal clenched her fists, her heart beating madly. She forced herself to stay still. I’m not afraid of you. We’re the same. Oarf roared even louder and tried to pounce but a large chain around his ankle held him back.

  The soldier on night duty ran over, hollering, “Are you out of your mind? You don’t have permission to be here. Leave this animal alone—you’re no match for him!”

  He grabbed her arm, but Nihal quickly freed herself.

  “Hands off. This is my dragon and I’ll come see him when I want to. Who told you to chain him?”

  “If he’s your dragon, little girl, why doesn’t he do as you say? I chained him because he wanted to escape.”

  People wandered in to see what the ruckus was about.

  Ido made his way through the soldiers and knights. “What in the devil is going on here?”

  Nihal was indignant. “I came to see my dragon and I found him chained up. I want him let loose.”

  “He’s not your dragon. He belongs to no one.” The dwarf said, trying to be patient. “He’s chained up for a reason. Now come on.”

  Ido dragged her away gracelessly. “Don’t you dare go off like that again, do you understand? You’re not a warrior, you’re not a knight, you’re not anything. You have to do what I say or you won’t go anywhere.”

  “I was there to train! Isn’t that what you want? I wasn’t disobeying any order.”

  Ido stopped and looked hard at Nihal. His expression made it clear there would be no argument. “Don’t mess with me, girl. I’m your instructor. I’ll tell you when to go to Oarf. Is that clear?”

  Nihal nodded, cowed.

  An icy rain was falling when Ido brought her back to the arena.

  Oarf was chained to a large post in the ground. Nihal angrily pulled her cloak tighter around herself. She could not stand to see him chained like that. Her dragon should be free. She began to trot toward the animal, but Ido grabbed onto her cloak and forced her to sit on the bleachers. He planted himself in front of her and looked her straight in the eyes.

  “Remember that Oarf doesn’t belong to you, Nihal. If everything goes well, he’ll be your comrade, nothing more. Let him know that you trust him and he’ll trust you. You have to find the way to win him over. Are you ready?”

  Nihal nodded.

  “Okay. Let’s get started.”

  Nihal stood and walked determinedly toward the dragon. Halfway there she turned on her heels toward the watering trough.

  “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” yelled Ido.

  “Trust me!”

  When she reached the fountain that fed the trough, she took off her cloak and held it under the water until it was fully soaked. Then she wrapped it around herself again and covered her head with the hood.

  Nihal shivered as she moved toward Oarf. The dragon’s roar echoed through the arena. Nihal kept moving forward. Oarf roared with all the strength in his lungs, irritated that this little creature dared so much. Nihal came closer and closer. The beast began to tug against the chain. Nihal stopped twenty steps from the dragon. She looked straight into his red eyes. She knew what he was feeling: Hatred. Fear. Loneliness.

  The burst of flame was sudden and powerful and it landed very close to her. Nihal did not retreat one step. She stood her ground, wrapped in the soaking wet cloak.

  “This will be the end of me,” Ido moaned from the stands.

  Oarf hesitated, doubtful. The flames lost their oomph then went out altogether.

  Nihal continued looking him in the eyes.

  It was as if the dragon were speaking.

  He did not want anything more to do with these creatures who were always killing one another. He hated them all. They had transformed the world into a place of death.

  They had taken away his human.

  He hated her, too. He hated her and he would kill her.

  A second burst of flame spurted from his throat.

  Nihal felt her cloak dry rapidly in the heat. She didn’t move. Without Oarf, all her struggles would amount to nothing.

  The heat became progressively more intense. The rain was evaporating before it hit the ground.

  Nihal began to yell. “I won’t give up, do you hear me? Don’t you see that the two of us are the same? I also lost the person I belonged to and I hate this world just like you do!”

  The dragon continued to spurt flames.

  Nihal felt her eyelashes burn. Tiny licks of flame lapped the hem of her cloak. “Accept me!”

  The heat was unbearable.

  Her head was spinning. She felt short of breath. Here we are. It’s all over. She fell to her knees.

  That was when Oarf stopped spitting flames.

  He towered over her for a moment. Then he retreated to the far end of the arena.

  Ido brought her to the infirmary. Apart from a few mild burns, Nihal was fine. She was just severely tired. An elderly healer treated her with a freshly made ointment that smelled of herbs, putting Nihal to sleep.

  It was late afternoon when she woke. She was trying to remember what had happened when she saw Ido approaching her cot.

  She tried to read his expression, but Ido was inscrutable.

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “No. It was quite a challenge. The problem is really something else altogether.”

  Nihal stared at him, astonished. “What do you mean?”

  Ido sat on a stool beside her bed. “It’s an issue of strategy and opportunity. You had a fine idea for dealing with Oarf, but the results were terrible.”

  “But I—”

  “Quiet. Listen to me. In war, every time you undertake an action, you have to evaluate your movements. An army is made of men, each of whom is crucial to victory. A knight is a leader and the lives of many soldiers depend on his actions. This is why everyone has to take pains to guard his life, because in the end it belongs not just to him but to all those who fight with him.”

  Ido lit his pipe and took a long drag.

  “There’s no sense throwing your life away like that. It won’t help anyone. A good warrior does only what has been ordered, and if he operates on his own initiative he has to take his own limits into account. The action you undertook earlier was useless and dangerous. You didn’t know your limits and you risked your life for something stupid.”

  Nihal was deeply offended. She sat up, flustered. “I knew what I was doing.”

  “No, you did not. What did you think? That you were going to solve the problem with a wet cloak? You knew your trick wouldn’t last, but you did it anyway.”

  Ido took another drag on his pipe.

  “Perhaps some hothead convinced you that a warrior does not fear death, but nothing could be farther from the truth. A warrior is like anyone else—he loves life and doesn’t want to die. But he doesn’t allow fear to take over, either. A warrior must be able to distinguish between when dying is necessary and when it is pointless. That’s what makes a warrior. You, on the other hand—what do you risk your life for? To impress me and to strut your stuff in front of a dragon who doesn’t want you. Neither one of those serves a purpose. They’re just stupid.”

  He had struck a nerve. When she learned of her true identity, Nihal had sworn that she would not die in vain and yet, here was her tutor accusing her of being reckless with her life.

  “You’re wrong,” she said heatedly. “I was sure Oarf wouldn’t kill me.”

  “Nihal, we haven’t known each other for very long, but you don’t fool me. I know you weren’t sure of anything. You just wanted to show me how brave you are. Well, what you did was not brave. It was irresponsible. That kind of irresponsibility does more killing than all the Tyrant’s troops together.”

  Nihal was silent.

  An unpleasant thought crept into her mind. Could it be that she no longer cared whether she lived or died? No, that’s not true. I knew what I was doing! I want to live. I have to live
because I have a mission to accomplish!

  “Remember what I’ve just said. I’m not angry; I’ve acted impulsively myself. But from now on, you have to learn to think rationally about what you do and the reasons that you do them.”

  “I know that dragon is meant for me,” Nihal said. “He’s meant to be mine.”

  Ido leaned over her bed. “Does water belong to anybody? Does the wind? Does a hurricane? A dragon is a force of nature. Every so often he chooses a companion. If you can’t get that into your head, you’ll never mount Oarf. This morning, you said the person you belonged to is dead. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but whoever he was, he didn’t own you, Nihal.”

  Nihal lowered her gaze. She didn’t want Ido to see that her eyes were full of tears.

  “No human being, no half-elf, no dwarf belongs to anyone. Each of us must find the strength to trace our own destiny. Slaves have an owner, and you’re no slave. If you want to be a knight, you have to overcome your sorrow and take charge of your life. It’s your choice whether you put it to good use or throw it away.”

  Ido leaned back and calmly relit his pipe.

  Nihal looked at him for a moment. Such strength, such courage from such a little man. For a moment he seemed like a giant.

  “Do you feel like taking a trip?” Ido asked her once the pipe was lit.

  “I think so. Where?”

  “Into battle, my girl. We have to help a group of rebels who’ve freed a city not too far from the front, but they’re under siege by a group of the Tyrant’s crack troops. We’re going to free them.”

  Nihal’s heart quickened.

  “Can I fight, too?”

  “You have to fight. I have to see how you perform in battle.”

  It was a brief march to the city.

  The strategy was explained before their departure. With no camps nearby, there would be no time for making plans once they got there. The element of surprise would be their only advantage; they would try to take the besiegers from the rear. Ido, as the only Dragon Knight on the mission, would be in charge of the attack.

  Ido and Nihal rode side by side. The dwarf smoked his pipe, the picture of ease, but Nihal was beside herself.

  “Are you scared?” Ido asked her.

  “No.”

  “That’s bad. Everyone is scared before going into battle; that’s the way it should be. I’m scared, too.”

  “You don’t seem scared,” Nihal commented.

  “I’m scared, not terrified. Fear gives me a proper consciousness of what I’m going to do. Fear is my friend because it helps me understand what I need to do in battle. It helps me keep a clear head and avoid taking useless risks.”

  Nihal raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t fear make soldiers run away from the enemy?”

  “That’s another possibility, Nihal. Fear is a treacherous friend. You have to learn to control it, to listen to what it tells you. If you can do that, it will help you do your duty well. If you let fear take charge, it will carry you to your grave.”

  Nihal glanced at Ido. She liked him, though she did not always understand him.

  “We’re almost there. We’ll go on foot from here,” Ido said.

  They left the horses. Nihal took the black cloth from her rucksack and wound it around her head.

  “No armor?” Ido asked.

  “This is better for me,” she said.

  “As you wish.”

  Ido walked back to get Vesa. The foot soldiers picked up their pace.

  Nihal moved forward quickly and stealthily, paying close attention to her surroundings.

  The besieged city came into view. A yell from Ido gave the signal for the battle to begin.

  Nihal fought even more ferociously than she had in her first battle. She flung herself at her enemies, ready to destroy everything that came within reach.

  The army was like an infallible war machine. Ido commanded his troops with decisiveness, never losing his calm. He attacked as he dodged arrows fearlessly. The flames from Vesa spread terror among the enemy troops on the ground.

  Once the coast was clear, Ido sent Vesa back up on his own and continued to fight from the ground. Nihal followed him confidently, slaughtering the enemy as she went.

  It was a surprisingly easy victory. In forty years of war, the Army of the Free Lands had only rarely managed to retake any territories from the Tyrant.

  In the newly freed city, their victory was met with celebration. The warriors received a hero’s welcome. Hospitality was offered from all sides and Ido willingly accepted it on his men’s behalves.

  That night there was dancing and an impromptu banquet held in the main square. The women of the city had rustled up what little food remained to feed the men that had rescued them from the Tyrant; their gratitude added zest to the food.

  Nihal did not join in the jubilation. She wanted to keep fighting, to kill other enemies. Even in the midst of the celebrations, she could think of nothing else.

  “Would you like to dance?”

  A young squire held out his hand to her. She blushed. Dance? Me? It was the first time anyone had ever treated her like a woman.

  “No, thank you. It’s not my thing,” she said.

  “Come on! We’ve just cheated death. It’s time to have fun,” the boy insisted with a smile of encouragement.

  “I really don’t know how to dance,” she informed him.

  The squire shrugged and bowed. A moment later, he was dancing with a girl from the city.

  Nihal thought of Fen.

  She had dreamed of dancing with him a million times, of being dressed in a long gown as she whirled around a glittering room in his arms. She rubbed her eyes. She could not fantasize like that anymore. She was a warrior, a weapon.

  She glimpsed Ido through the crowd. He sipped from a tankard as he joked with his troops and watched the happy commotion that filled the city square. The victory was his doing.

  Ido noticed her and walked to her side. “Let’s have a talk,” he said, as he pulled her to a portico away from the crowd.

  He handed her his tankard. “Have a drink. It’s bad luck not to celebrate victory.”

  Nihal took a sip. The amber liquid had a bite to it that made Nihal’s eyes water.

  Ido laughed. “So, that was your first taste of beer, eh? It’s dwarves’ favorite drink!”

  Nihal handed back the tankard. “It’s good.”

  Ido took a swig and then cleaned his mustache with the back of his hand. “Why aren’t you rejoicing?”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “That’s obvious,” the man said dryly. He took another drink and said, “I had a good chance to study you while you were fighting.”

  Nihal smiled, awaiting his praise.

  “I didn’t like what I saw, Nihal.”

  Her smile dropped. “Did I make a mistake?”

  “No. It’s the way you behave in battle that I don’t like.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said, cocking an eyebrow.

  “You throw yourself into the fray without thinking of anything but destroying everything that comes near you. It might be fine for a random foot soldier, but it’s not the way a knight ought to fight.”

  “I thought what matters in war is how many enemies you kill. I’m just trying to keep busy.”

  Ido passed her the tankard for another sip. As Nihal swallowed, she tried to hold back the anger and disappointment she felt at Ido’s words.

  “In battle, you’re like a caged animal fighting to get free. You let your body lead and fight by instinct. What’s more, you act as though you’re the only one on the battlefield. That won’t do. You must know at all times where the others are and what they are doing. This is important for when you become a knight, you’ll be leading other men and you’ll need to see the big picture to plan a successful strategy. Most importantly, Nihal, you need to see that fighting is an unfortunate necessity, not a source of pleasure.”

  “So I like to fight. What’s wrong with t
hat?” Nihal asked indignantly.

  “No. I like to fight,” Ido corrected. “You like to kill. There is no room in this army for bloodthirsty killers, Nihal. I won’t allow it. If you think you can use the battlefield as an outlet for your hatred, you can forget about fighting altogether. Is that clear?”

  Ido held her gaze to punctuate his speech. Then he casually lit his pipe, as though he had been chatting about the weather.

  Nihal felt the blood rise to her face. “Ido! The Fammin killed my father!” she yelled. “And Fen! They slaughtered my people. You have no right to judge me!”

  Ido did not lose his composure. “The Fammin and the Tyrant killed my father. They took my brother from me and they enslaved my people. Everyone here could tell a similar story. We fight for something more than revenge. What do you fight for?”

  Ido looked at her with such intensity that Nihal was forced to look away.

  “If you don’t know, it’s time you reconsider this way of life.”

  “But I’ve always wanted to …” she began to argue.

  “That’s enough. Let’s go dance.”

  “I don’t know how,” she said crossly.

  “It’s an order.”

  Nihal found herself in the middle of the square, moving to the rhythm.

  As she moved, she wondered what was wrong with hating the Tyrant. He was evil. Hating him gave her the strength to fight. The Fammin were evil, too. Killing them was a form of justice and the only way to beat the Tyrant. What was so wrong about the way she saw things?

  The party went on until late that night. Nihal and Ido went to their beds at the house of a town merchant.

  “Did you enjoy the party?” asked Ido. “See how nice it is to have fun? Enjoy life, Nihal. Then you’ll understand why you’re fighting.”

  Nihal crawled into her bed, more confused than ever.

  19

  FLYING LESSONS

  Nihal’s real training began after Ido’s successful battle. The mornings were dedicated to practicing fighting techniques. Ido worked her hard. They started at sunrise and did not stop until lunchtime.