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"Lord Marshal." The young officer saluted. "We're getting reports from the front that the Algarvians have started pulling some of their units out of the line and taking them back to the east."

"What?" Rathar exclaimed. "Why in blazes are they doing that? Have they forgotten they're still fighting us?"

"I don't know why, sir," the crystallomancer said. "I just know what's reported to me."

"Well, whatever the reason-" Rathar smacked his fist into the palm of his other hand. "Whatever the reason, we'll make 'em pay for it."

Seventeen

“Come on, my beauty." Cornelu urged his leviathan forward as if he were urging a lover into his bedchamber. "Come on, my sweet." He stroked, he caressed, he cajoled, trying to get every bit of speed he could out of the beast.

And the leviathan gave him everything he asked, which was more than he could say about Janira back in Setubal. On it swam, toward Sibiu, toward- if the powers above proved kind- a return from exile after close to three and a half bitter years.

"This time," he murmured, "this time I won't swim up onto Tirgoviste because I had my mount killed out from under me. This time, this time" -he caressed the words, too- "if the powers above be kind, I'm coming home to a free kingdom. A freed kingdom, anyhow."

He ordered the leviathan up into a tailstand so he could see farther. There straight ahead lay Sigisoara, the easternmost of Sibiu's five main islands. He wished he'd been ordered to Tirgoviste, but his wishes counted for nothing in the eyes of the Lagoan Admiralty. And there, coming along every ley line that bore on the islands of Sibiu from east, southeast, and south, glided perhaps the largest fleet the world had ever seen: Sibian and Kuusaman warships of every size shepherding transports full of soldiers. Cornelu's was but one of a pod of leviathans helping to protect both the transports and the warships.

And there overhead, also warding the grand fleet from Algarvian attack, flew the greatest swarm of dragons Cornelu had ever seen. He didn't know how it measured in the historical scheme of things. He did know he'd never seen so many dragons accompanying a naval expedition. He couldn't imagine how the Lagoans and Kuusamans had got so many of the huge, fractious beasts aboard ship.

All at once, as if drawn by a lodestone, his head swung to the left, toward the south. He stroked the leviathan, commanding it to stay up on its tail longer so he could get a better look. At first, his hand went to the rubber pouch he wore on his belt- he intended to get out his crystal and scream a warning to the fleet. Of all things the ships didn't need, a great, drifting iceberg in their midst was among the worst.

After a moment, though, he realized the iceberg wasn't drifting. Instead, it glided east along the ley line under at least as much control as a cruiser. Its upper surface wasn't sharp and jagged, as it would have been in nature, but low and smooth and flat. Even as Cornelu watched, a dragon landed on the ice and two more, both painted in Lagoan scarlet and gold, took off. A chunk of ice that size could carry a lot of dragons- aye, and their handlers, too.