Armand, tracing in his mind attack patterns over the mouth of the valley that the battle would be taking place in, felt a light touch at his elbow. Callas stood behind him, looking worried. She said, "May I speak to you? Outside?"
He nodded. "Of course, my lady. Let us take a walk."
Outside, a little bit of old snow lay shoveled on drifts away from the paths on the temple grounds. "I thought we might go up to the ritual circle. I know there's nobody there, and it does have a lovely view of Madrid." She didn't have to mention that it was hallowed ground, which made it a bit more difficult to spy on them.
"I would like to see it." They walked along, chatting about inconsequentials. Once they reached the ritual circle, Armand leaned against one of the standing stones, his arms crossed. "So, now, lovely Headmistress, what is this all about?"
Callas shivered and pulled her cloak more tightly around her. "I have...somewhat of a favor to ask you."
He raised an eyebrow. "Another one? And this one not a public one. Well, if your young man is failing to please you..."
Callas blushed. "Armand! This is *not* that sort of favor. You are terrible!"
"I am what I am, my lady. Forever."
"I wonder. Anyway. The favor I need to ask of you...are you aware which dragon leads the white dragon cohort?"
"Probably Arumaga, since he's the leader of that tribe, and on the Council. Truth be told, I really rather hope it's him. I have been looking forward to tearing out his throat and tasting his life blood for some three centuries. I may finally have my chance."
She blinked. "Ah, you know Arumaga?"
He smiled faintly, his gaze distant. "I used to, when he was Aru. We were friends, once. Between the two of us, there was no game of chance we could not win, and no woman who could resist us. Ah, we had good times, together. But then...things changed. He became the dragon he is today. And for his failures, he will die."
Callas looked away, gazing out over Madrid. A silence fell over the pair.
formal portrait
Finally Armand spoke. "So what is this favor you would ask, lady Callas? What could it possibly have to do with Arumaga?"
She sighed. "Before I ask, would you tell me what happened between you two? I'd like to understand."
"Only if you answer one question of my choosing, later on."
"I will answer, as long as it doesn't betray anyone."
"Of course. Well. Since we are speaking privately...I will tell you the story." He walked to a stone bench and sat down, drawing one knee up to his chest and draping his arm around it. "The white dragons and the golds have traditionally had a noninterference compact--we don't share territory or hunting grounds, and we leave each other strictly alone. But the leaders of the various tribes all know each other, and sometimes leaders of cohorts who are nonaligned or even enemies become friends. Aru and I, like I said, were friends for several centuries. Probably each other's closest friend; I would have even called him brother, once upon a time.
"There was a woman. Is there not always a woman? Her name was Beatrice, the fair Beatrice, and we both fell quite helplessly in love with her. She chose Aru over me. Ah, that was a dark, dark day, indeed. Broke my heart, but I couldn't hold it against her. Or him, either. So I retreated to my cave for a few years, fell out of contact with them for a while." He fell silent for a few moments. He looked, for the moment, somehow older, a bit more careworn, his voice betraying the weight of his centuries of life.
"When I emerged and went for a visit, he would not see me. Attacked me and drove me away from his mountain, as a matter of fact. This, this was my old friend, my brother? What could have happened? I asked around. And oh, that was a terrible day. I discovered that he had let Beatrice's life blood be spilled by raiders, her and their son. He failed her, failed to protect her, failed the one request I ever made of him regarding her. I asked him--begged him--to keep her safe. I had thought it was a good thing that she'd chosen him, as he was more temperate than I and would do a better job of protecting her. I was wrong!" His eyes were a blank pupiless gold, the illusion that gave them the appearance of human eyes dropped entirely.
His voice blazed with anger and grief. "And then to learn that he had turned his back on Epona, changed his name to Arumaga, and joined Morrigan...I lost him as well as her that day. My friend Aru died that day, and never will he return to life. This Arumaga," the name was spat out of his mouth, "this Arumaga is the dragon who killed Aru, who failed a woman we loved. He might as well have held the blade that cut her throat. And so if we meet on the field of battle, he will die. I will be sure of it."
Another long silence. Then Callas spoke. "What if...what if the story was not what you had been told?"
"Beatrice would still be dead. Arumaga would still have killed her. What difference does it make?"
Callas looked at him. "You know, you said you would ask me a question. What would you like to know?"
"Changing the subject, fair Headmistress? Well. I was going to ask something else, but now I will ask this: you sound as if you know Arumaga. What have your dealings been with him? What stories has he told you?"
"He has told me nothing that I did not already know. I cannot say that I know Arumaga, truly, he and I have only spoken on a handful of occasions. We are on opposite sides of this conflict, but...the more I come up against him, the more I feel he is still a dragon of honor, despite what I have seen of his work." She paused to blow on her hands and rub them together, pacing to keep warm. "I saw what happened on that day, and I know he was the victim of a cruel trick, designed to take advantage of the dragon nature he fights so hard against."
Armand sighed. "That's his weakness, that he fights against his nature rather than working with it."
"It is. He was betrayed by those he thought were clerics of Epona, who murdered Beatrice in front of him. He lost control of his temper, and killed the false clerics--who were holding his infant son.
"In his grief, he went mad. He killed everyone within the temple, down to the last acolyte. And then turned his back on Epona, blaming her for letting his wife die and believing that he was no longer fit to call himself a cleric. When he recovered from his madness, he found that he had lost everything that had ever mattered to him. His wife, his son, his goddess, his temple...and, now, I discover, he also had lost the dragon he had considered a brother.
"And it was a setup. Those clerics weren't Epona clerics. They belonged to Morrigan. Morrigan herself ordered the murder of his wife and son, in hopes of either rendering him harmless to them, or, better yet, convincing him to join them. You ask me how I know Arumaga? I brought proof of that betrayal to him, in hopes of convincing him to look past his grief. I can't save his soul, he'll have to do that himself. But I opened the door for him to return, if he chooses. I do not know which way he will turn, yet. Much depends on what happens in the next few weeks."
Armand was silent. The only sound was the wind crackling softly through the frozen branches of the trees surrounding the circle and the thump of Callas' boots on the ground as she paced. Finally, he spoke. "It changes nothing. He still must die."
Callas stopped and looked at him. "And that is the favor I am asking of you. We need him. He needs time to make his decision, and to atone. I ask you not to attack him during the battle."
"You are asking me to not take revenge?"
"Only to delay it. Should he decide to fall the other way, then he will be lost to us forever and you may rip his throat out whenever you like. His cohort will likely be in tatters after this battle, you're unlikely to start a tribal war by doing so. But while he is still on the edge...we need that hope, that he may return to us."
"Lady Headmistress, you are a foolish optimist. But. Should I do this for you, what do I gain in return?"
"Would hope be enough?"
"Sweet Callas. More than that is required, I think, for me to delay a vengeance I have lusted after for three centuries."
"Ah." Callas considered this. "What do I have that would tempt a dragon, Armand? Not much that I'd be willing to give up, I'm sure. But I will offer you two things.
"First, this isn't common knowledge, but I am one of those who have true dreams, and I can direct them where I like, usually."
"This in itself is interesting information. The Headmistress of the Order of Epona, a seer; what an...interesting choice that is."
"You don't know the half of it, Armand." She pulled on a lock of her hair absently. "I will dream of something for you. I can gather information about the past and present, or the future if that's what you want. I will warn you that if you want to know the future, there are too many decision points in the near future for a dream about it to be anything like reliable. I've quit trying, because it makes my head hurt when I do. One thing or person, I will find out all I can about them for you, including a general fix on their current location and circumstances, if you like. It may take me a few nights to find them, but I have not failed yet.
"The second is a piece of information that I will give you for free. You and Arumaga are evenly matched. Should he come to the battle with the same fire in his heart that you have, I give you about even odds of dying in his place. There is a not-insignificant chance that the battle will take both of your lives. If you don't attack him, it's likely that you'll survive to lead your tribe in the days ahead. And they will need you sorely, I think."
"In truth, I believe they might." Armand rose from the bench and walked towards Callas. "I am not certain that what you have offered me is of equal value to what you ask."
"Information, Armand. Information about anything you like. I won't ask what you want it for. I can travel to the ends of the earth in the dream realm. Look into any windows you want, find any treasure you want, discover what your enemies are up to, or your friends. When else are you going to be able to know what would otherwise be unknowable?"
"True, sweet Callas. True." He crossed the distance between them and took her chin in one of his hands, raising it up so she was looking into his eyes. "I might also ask for something else from you, Lady Headmistress."
Callas' voice was icy. "You presume too much, sir." She stepped back, away from him. "This has been a most pleasant acquaintance, so far. I'd hate to have to ruin it, but if you ever lay a hand on me again, you will pull back a bloody stump."
He raised his hands in surrender. "Peace, peace. You never know how far you'll get until you try."
"And you never know when the lady is hiding knives under her shirt."
"Ah, but I can smell steel, and I smell only your little boot dagger on you."
Callas rolled her eyes. "Do you forget what I am, Armand? I'm not defenseless even without weaponry. Besides, if my companions found out that you'd tried something I was unwilling to participate in, I'm sure Gavião would want to have a chat with you. With Excalibur. Not to mention that I believe Galvin would be glad of the excuse to at least attempt to gut you. I am extraordinarily fond of Galvin, and I would not take well to you killing him. Even in self-defense."
"Protective bunch, aren't they? Your knight's a touch on the paranoid side. Not exactly what I was expecting, from the stories."
"We're none of us what we used to be, I'm afraid. So...there is my offer. Do you accept?"
Armand sighed. "You're a very hard woman to distract, Callas. I accept. I've waited three centuries, I can wait a few more months. We will harry Arumaga back to France, but I will not go against him myself. And after tomorrow's battle, I will tell you what information I need. Deal?"
"Deal. Thank you. It means more than you know."
His eyes were thoughtful. "Oh, I think I may have some guesses. I loved him, once, you know."
Callas shifted her cloak on her shoulders. "So, tell me. What was Aru like when you knew him?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"I'm curious, is all."
"Controlled. Always controlled. I was the fire, he was the ice. Played a mean game of cards, could drink even me under the table. And that takes quite a lot of whiskey, indeed. Could walk into a bar and five minutes later have every female there eating out of his hand and every man wanting to start a fight with him, all without him saying a word. Something about him made people want to make him lose his cool, in one way or another. But he almost never did. Beatrice was the first woman who ever touched his heart, and he even resisted her for a while. He was holding out for a dragon, someone he could grow old with. You humans...so like mayflies. But you burn so brightly. Underneath that chilly exterior beat the heart of a romantic. For all I know, it may beat there still--but I really rather doubt it, at this point."
"Why was he called Aru? I know it means light."
"Because when he was happy, and he often was in those days, his joy was so intense that it was almost painful to behold. And if you ever see him in the sun, you'll know why. He glowed almost like crystal. He had the strongest will I've ever seen. A credit to your Goddess as Headmaster, he was. But you probably knew that."
"I surmised that, from what few documents remain." Callas sighed. "Thank you. You've confirmed something I needed to know."
"Which was?"
"Whether what I thought I saw in him was actually there. It is, I think."
Armand nodded, and then cast an eye towards the sky. "It grows close to the time that we should be leaving, I to gather my tribe from the hills around Madrid and you to lead your clerics into battle. Would you step back, lady Callas? I would not like to accidentally hit you with a wing." Callas went to the edge of the circle and watched as Armand's form blurred and expanded into that of an enormous gold dragon, shining with just the faintest tinge of green and blue around the edges of his scales.
He looked down at her with his gold eyes. Rumbling from his throat came a deeper version of his human voice. "It's just as well you turned me down, lovely Headmistress. You're much more Aru's type than mine. Remember that should your young man fall." He leaped from the circle, leaving gouges in the packed earth, and climbed into the sky.
Callas stood looking after him, her mouth open, a look of confusion on her face. Then that look hardened into irritation mixed with amusement, and she snorted. "Dragons! Infuriating, the lot of them." She turned and walked down the path from the hill, back down to the temple.
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