Selene

Chapter Fifty-Nine: Epilogue

The thin layer of wet snow dripped off the tops of abandoned structures as a lone figure wandered through. He glanced up at proud turrets, great catapults in pieces on their tops, one of the buildings completely collapsed. With a flick of his long coat he noted what he could only assume was once an armory down to its pillars of support, and even those had been pretty thoroughly melted by molten Gronckle rock. At last, he came to what he was looking for. Ten cages, and back to him a human being beside a stunning black horse.

The animal snorted, ears turning his direction.

"Love what you've done to the place," Long coat said, amused.

"Argos," The other human rubbed under the horse's chin, not turning. "Where are these skills Griseomus spoke so highly of? I could hear you from a mile away."

Argos laughed. "Only because I let you. We were after all, meeting. Where is Griseomus?"

"Dead. Killed by Selene."

"I warned you people, I really did." He shook his head. "But does anyone listen to the guy who knows what he's talking about? Of course not."

"Warned us what?" the ex-legionnaire demanded.

Icy grey eyes looked sharply at Justinian. "That keeping those creatures alive was a mistake."

"Ohhh right right. Just slaughter all the Emperors favorite ring fighters. That would have gone well."

"Did it go well otherwise?"

Justinian growled.

"I doubt you dragged me all the way out here to discuss your failures. Certainly hope it; I've got to make a living and this was an expensive trip."

"Alright I'll get to the point. On the other side of this wall is a man I will have the head of-"

"Artorījos yes, I've heard. Revenge stories get so old."

"-It was while battling him that the Viking Chief of Berk stole into the Garrison and released our prized Imperials." He continued over Argos. "Whom neither I, Griseomus, or the entire legion could return to Rome without and expect to keep our heads."

He threw a pouchful of gold Argo's way. "Your first installment."

"You want me to track them all down," He snorted, and tossed the money back to Justinian. "I refuse."

"On what grounds? Not enough money?" Justinian filled the purse with a few more gold coins. "I might not be able to return to Rome but thanks to foresight my fortune is not in Rome. I'm willing to spend whatever it takes."

"And I am unwilling to make the same mistake. I won't deal with live dragons anymore."

Justinian tossed the sack back. "Who said anything about taking them alive? I want them dead, every last one."

Argos raised an eyebrow.

The Commander shrugged. "They're obviously cherished by this Viking Chief, and The Emperor will only take my honor and bestow it on another if the dragons are ever returned. I cut a deep wound to both by slaying them."

Merdraut pushed against Justinian, pawing the ground. He was tired of standing around and talking.

Argos thought a moment. His hand gripped tighter around the bag.

"How many am I looking for? Which of them took the lead?"

"You're looking for nine, seven in a feral pack, Aquilla Alpha, and the other two with the Vikings ...Selene was killed by Stultus."

"I thought you only had nine. How can I look for nine?" He glanced the cages, then turned back to Justinian with surprise. "Stultus?? Really?"

"She was the only one not throat coated," He recalled the dragon during the battle. "As for nine, that Berkian Chief has one of his own."

He shook his head. "How far the apple has fallen from the tree. I assume with Aquilla leading they were last seen headed North?"

"You'd be correct."

"Then he's returning to the Archipelago where I found him. Furies are short distance flyers so he would be island hopping, especially with fat, domestic dragons in tow. Even so their escape was over a month ago, they must be getting close." He furrowed his brow. It wasn't much to work with, but he'd had less. Argos pocketed the purse. "It may be too late. Once they get there I doubt they'll stay together."

"The great Argos feels he's not up to the challenge?"

A gust of wind was just enough to push a cloud into tears. Rain spattered into the snow, making it melt even faster.

"Not stupid. I can't guarantee thanks to your tardiness. Maybe if you'd been a week earlier. And for the record I'm keeping this money as compensation for my troubles."

"Fine. I sent a gift my good friend Chaghatai Khan's way that might prove useful to you." He glanced sideways at the cage labeled Stultus, which was actually empty now. "He and some allies are rendezvousing at a military base up there, I'm sure you know it, and are interested in discussing terms over what will be done to the Viking's dragon."

"That so?"

"I suspect you'll run into opposition, so I created allies."

Argos laughed again. "You created allies? Chaghatai Ragnar and Griselda are age-old clients of mine. And whatever deal they have to offer I make no promises. Too many deals have been made already, too many compromises."

Justinian looked him up and down. "Fine," He said again, "But I'm not sure how you expect to manage the wrath of Berk alone."

A strand of wet, white hair flopped toward his eye and he brushed it away. Laughter danced in Argos cold, grey eyes. "I'm not alone."

Merdraut jumped, raising his head high, whites of his eyes showing. He snorted angrily and arched his neck, gluing his ears flat against it.

Justinian watched the four hideous, black and red dragons crawl up the empty Imperial cages with their insect-like pincers, and put a hand on the hilt of his sword. Their tails curled above their tusked heads like some sickly flower, opening and closing.

"Don't worry, they only do as I say." The man wearing the long coat grinned, walking back the way he had come, taking note of the feisty horse. "If you do go after Artorījos... take that horse. Artorījos doesn't believe animals are inherently good or evil."