Dragon and Phoenix Read Online Free PDF

But recently he learned something that prompted him to a desperate move: to escape Jehanglan and bring us word of a great wrong done there.”
    She waited for the murmurs to die down. Good: judging by the surprise in faces and voices both; there had not been many rumors—yet. She found herself wondering what a certain small Dragonlord might have heard.
    “And what is this wrong?” asked Kyralin Sanraelle.
    “Taren, I think it best if you tell them yourself,” the Lady said.
    Taren bowed his head and, using the arms of the chair, pushed himself up. For a moment the Lady feared the effort would be too much for him. She stretched out a hand to stay him.
    He turned a smile of dazzling sweetness upon her. “Nay, Lady, do not worry about me. This illness and I are very old enemies. It is but a weakness that will be soon made well by seeing justice done.”
    A murmur of approval ran around the table at Taren’s gallant words. The Lady saw the members of the Saethe lean forward to catch this unlikely hero’s tale.
    “As your Lady has already told you, my lords and ladies, I was shipwrecked in Jehanglan many years ago, and taken as a slave. It was a hard life and cruel, for my master was not a gentle man, but I didn’t dare the Straits of Cansunn—what the Jehangli call the Gate of the Phoenix—once more. For though life may be hard, it’s still sweet, and I feared that I would not pass those waters a second time and live.
    “So I lived my life as content as I could be, acting as an overseer of one of the salt mines my master was in charge of for the imperial court. For, you see, all salt there belongs to the Phoenix Emperor. Those mines are a favorite place to send those who have somehow offended the throne. Those so punished often don’t live long; the labor is hard.
    “So it was that one day a renegade priest came to work the mines. Because he was both learned and old, I begged for him to work under me as a clerk. To my surprise, my request was granted. We became good friends and Taorun told me many things I never knew before—such as the true source of the power behind the Phoenix Throne.”
    Taren paused and wiped his brow with a trembling hand. The Lady signaled her personal servant, Sirl, the only one allowed in this meeting. The kir brought forth a goblet of rich Pelnaran wine already poured against such need. He offered it to Taren with a bow. Taren whispered a barely audible “My thanks” and sipped.
    A faint trace of color came to his cheeks. Taren drank again and went on, his voice a little stronger, “Your Graces, have you ever heard of the Jehangli phoenix? It is said to be a giant bird, more beautiful than the dawn, that lives for a thousand years. When those thousand years are past, the phoenix builds a great fire upon Mount Rivasha and casts itself within. There it is consumed by the flames and is destroyed—or so it seems. For from the ashes of the old, there rises a new, young phoenix.
    “Taorun told me that, a little more than a thousand years ago, one of the Jehangli Oracles—children who have a gift of true prophecy—told a Jehangli noble how he might found a dynasty to last for all time. For there is a short span of time, before its feathers have hardened enough for flight, that a young phoenix might be captured if one has power enough.
    “Taorun wouldn’t tell me all, for he still held to the deepest of his oaths, but that noble did capture a young phoenix, and thence became emperor. The anchor of that prison of magic was a fell beast, Taorun said, a creature of nightmare. He had seen it once, and feared to speak of it. But I was curious, and one night, I admit, I plied him with rice wine to loosen his tongue. At last he described the ‘horrible monster’ chained beneath the Iron Temple of Mount Kajhenral.
    “My lords and ladies, can you imagine my horror when I realized he spoke of a northern dragon? He didn’t know what it was, for there are no dragons in Jehanglan. And worse yet