Song of the Dragon by Tracy Hickman Page B

justice to my race.”
    Jugar considered the manticore before he spoke. “Of course, so say the Rhonas, and thus it must be so. I am only a fool telling the tales of a fool, but that is how the gods have made me and so I must be. Qin himself would tell you of an ancient time—long before the elves had formed more than tribes—when manticores, chimera, and dwarves . . .”
    â€œDwarves?!” Thuri laughed in surprise.
    â€œYes, and dwarves ,” Jugar nodded earnestly as he continued. “Together they built a great civilization of their own. Its name is difficult for us to pronounce and lost to the knowledge of the Rhonas, but its name meant ‘the peace of reasoned thought,’ and it ruled in glory for nearly three hundred years. The Rhonas have torn down its towers and walls until all evidence of its existence has vanished from its conquered lands, but in the wild lands beyond the Rhonas Imperium its glories are said to be found still!”
    â€œAn ancient lost empire of invisible buildings?” Ethis scoffed, poking at the fire with a long stick. “How convenient.”
    â€œYet that was nothing compared to the humans,” Jugar said in hushed tones, leaning forward toward the fire, its light playing on his ancient, craggy face. “It was the humans who created the greatest empire ever seen on the face of the world. It was they who fought the dragons of the north and won their respect. They alone stood up against the expansion of Rhonas, for their empire was mightier than the dwarves, manticores, and chimera combined!”
    Jugar paused for effect, taking in a deep breath.
    The silence was broken suddenly by outraged laughter.
    â€œHumans? A great empire?” Belag roared, his large hands grasping at his belly as he laughed uncontrollably.
    â€œOoh! Fear the terrible two-armed beast!” Ethis hooted, throwing his four arms up in mock alarm. “The brittle-boned warrior in his might!”
    â€œHey, stop it,” Thuri said through an irrepressible grin that broke into laughter as well. “It’s not . . . it’s not that funny.”
    â€œTheir empire is probably invisible, too,” Belag snorted loudly, his side beginning to hurt. “The gods know their hordes of humans are not to be seen!”
    â€œNo, you don’t understand,” Jugar shouted into the hilarity that swirled around him. “I can prove it to you! I can show you . . .”
    â€œShow us your invisible kingdom?” Ethis nearly choked.
    â€œWe’re probably in it right now, eh, Thuri?” Belag shook with laughter. “What a fool!”
    Jugar sighed and caught sight of Drakis.
    The human was not laughing, but rather staring angrily back at the dwarf.
    â€œI can show you,” Jugar said emphatically to Drakis, his words nearly buried by the laugher that still rang around him. “Believe me, I can show you!”
    But Drakis just turned and walked into the complete darkness that had finally fallen over the meadow.

CHAPTER 9
    Mala
    T HE LIGHTNING EDGES of the fold flashed as Drakis stepped through onto the floor of the small temple. It was a minor community fold that served the local Houses of the Icaran Frontier—the farthest reaches of the Imperial Western Provinces. Three weeks and a lifetime ago, Drakis had marched into this same fold with over eighty of the House Timuran Centurai.
    Now he stepped down the wide treads again onto the same tall grasses and low undulating hills. The gentle, early morning breeze drifted across the slopes, rustling the young wheat in the fields that surrounded him. Drakis drew in a deep breath, taking in the familiar smells of the dewy earth and the faint tang of the seashore to the south that lingered in the air. His field pack was suddenly lighter.
    He longed to hold onto the peace he felt and linger in its embrace for a few moments more.
    â€œSo this is where you are kept a slave, then?” the dwarf said