Kared's Children - Chapter 2

"The stories are true," Benjamin said.

Gerald looked at the mop-haired stranger sharply. "They can’t be true. They’re idiotic."

"Excuse me," Shaerden said. "What stories?"

"Rowan was attacked by a Kagatje, a red one," Benjamin said. "A dragon."

"Ridiculous!" Shaerden said.

"Perhaps. But true."

"Travelers outside the city say they saw it in the distance," Gerald said. "It was as large as Rowan itself."

"Doubtful," Benjamin said. "The wingspans of reds are not particularly wide. Still, one would have been more than enough to devastate a city unprepared for its approach."

"What are you saying?" Shaerden demanded, looking from Benjamin to Gerald and back. "That’s absurd!"

Benjamin was nodding. "It is. But the elders of my people had been expecting it-or something like it-for some time. They’d sensed the unrest among the Kagatje. They were warned to stay uninvolved."

Gerald gaped, but Shaerden ignored him. "Are you telling me," he asked Benjamin, "That the Kagatje are real? That they exist?"

Gerald guffawed. "Who is this nut? Where’d you find him?"

Benjamin’s eyes only flickered toward Gerald. "I am from far away."

"From across the sea, no doubt."

"No. Only the Calaran."

Gerald’s jaw dropped in amazement. "That is crazy."

"No crazier than a Kagatje attacking a human settlement."

"Yes, well," Gerald said. "Those are only stories. They’re not true. Only products of hysteria."

"Hysteria, perhaps," Benjamin persisted. "But with good reason. They are, in all likelihood, true."

Shaerden was antic. "How could a Kagatje just appear out of thin air and attack our capital city?"

"Thin air is right," Benjamin said. "The Kagatje retreated centuries ago, after the Agreement of Ramat. They live beyond the Calaran, to the northwest. They live so far beyond the mountains that I’ve never seen them or any indication that they existed. But that they did, that they do, I’ve never doubted. The elders have stayed in communication with them."

"Who are these ‘elders’?" Gerald asked.

"The Alaran are not like your people," Benjamin said. "We remember the past. We honor the aged. The elders are our leaders."

"Benjamin," Shaerden said. "Gerald. Will you please get back to the subject? What is this all about? What happened to Rowan?"

Gerald, glancing at his friend, shrugged. "I’ve said what I know. We’re trying to find out more. Perhaps," he added sarcastically, "You should ask the seafarer-mountainman," he corrected.

Benjamin, too, shrugged, though without any indication that he’d recognized the sarcasm in Gerald’s voice. "Our elders had known for some time that the Kagatje were upset. They didn’t know why, and the Kagatje wouldn’t explain. But something had disturbed them, to the point where they’d begun their combat rituals."

"Rituals?" Shaerden asked. "What rituals?"

"How do you know this?" Gerald asked.

"The Kagatje are deeply religious," Benjamin said. "They’ve existed for millennia. Far longer than have our peoples. They-what shall I say-live in awareness of all of nature, its movements and cycles. They never would infringe on the security of another intelligent species without first beseeching their ancestors about it." He glanced at Gerald. "The social systems and psychology of the Kagatje are required study among the Alaran."