Gilmreth the Awakening

by Raymond L. Weil

  “This sounds bad,” muttered Aldin, listening to Tohm. “I don’t see how things can get much worse over in Draydon. It must be a nightmare to live there now.”

  “Workers are being forced to work nonstop, sometimes until they collapse from fatigue,” Tohm continued with a deep worried look. “It’s beyond your wildest nightmare!”

  “That sorceress and the dragon are a bad combination,” Damon said with a worried frown on his face. The stories coming from Draydon were truly troublesome.

  “Most of the traders are avoiding Draydon completely now,” spoke Tohm, looking over at where Kalvin and his wife were sitting talking. “There are only a few from some of the far outlying villages, which are still running. I fear even those will soon stop. What are we going to do when the dragon shows up here and they demand that we go to work in her city? It’s coming, I’m afraid. It’s only a matter of time.”

  “Let’s wait and see what happens,” replied Damon, trying not to sound worried lest he upset Tohm anymore. “So far the dragon has stayed on the far side of the mountain. It may continue to do so for quite some time.”

  “What’s been going on here in Galvin? I guess Addison is still trying to stir up trouble?” Aldin asked, still aggravated about the incident earlier and almost wishing they hadn’t stopped Kalvin from striking the man. Maybe Addison could use some sense knocked into his thick, insensitive head. He definitely would have deserved it!

  “Addison has been making trouble for days now,” Tohm replied with a deep sigh. “Almost every night you can find him in the tavern complaining about trade and customers not being able to pay.”

  “Not too surprising,” Aldin spoke. “Addison always has liked the tavern to much. A drinking man should learn how to keep his mouth shut!”

  “He has even suggested that we should send a delegation to this sorceress to see if she would be willing to reestablish trade with this side of the mountain,” Tohm said worriedly.

  “He can’t be serious!” muttered Aldin, shaking his head in disbelief. “That would be very dangerous.”

  There are a lot of trade goods neither of us is getting from Draydon anymore,” replied Tohm, glancing at some of the empty shelves in his store. “That has just angered him even further. He just doesn’t seem to understand what is happening in Draydon and how dangerous it is. He’s dead serious about sending someone to Draydon to try to get the trade goods flowing again.”

  “That would be crazy!” exclaimed Aldin with a dark frown crossing his face. “We don’t need to draw this sorceress’ attention to us. She seems to have forgotten about us for now. We need to leave it that way!”

  “I fear this supposed sorceress hasn’t forgotten about us,” Damon interjected with a deep sigh. “There’s a reason she hasn’t sent the dragon after us. She may be consolidating her power on the far side of the mountains before she moves against us. I’m afraid we will eventually hear from her regardless of what we do.”

  They were all silent for a moment. None of them wanted to think about what would happen when that day arrived. Aldin and Damon knew that, on that day, Lynol might have to face the dragon!

  “When she does, what will we do?” Tohm asked worriedly, looking back over at Gwen and Kalvin, who were talking and laughing at the small table in the back corner of the store. He couldn’t quite hear what they were saying. It pleased him immensely that Gwen so enjoyed the company of the Sylvar and Gor children. “What will we do when this dragon shows up here?”

  “I don’t know,” Damon replied, not wanting to reveal anything about Lynol, not even to Tohm. “We will just have to wait and see what happens, and then deal with it when it does. So, Addison has been causing problems?”

  “Addison and his friends are extremely jealous of your farms,” Tohm spoke, his forehead creasing in a frown. Gwen had already told him about what happened earlier. “He has made it plain that if he had control of your lands, things would be different.”

  “How so?” asked Aldin, his eyes narrowing. “Everything extra we raise we bring to the village. Even our lands will only produce so much.”

  “The man only sees profit,” Tohm replied glumly, shaking his head sadly. “I’m his main competitor. Because of Gwen and I, he has to keep his prices down to stay competitive. If not for the extra supplies you two bring in, half this village would be starving. Addison, if he controlled your land, would raise his prices, and if the people starved, they would just have to starve! The man could care less about their wellbeing.”

  “You do a good service to the people of the village,” Aldin said with a compassionate nod. “The people know they can depend on you.”

  “He will never have our land, and we will see to it the villagers don’t run short of food,” replied Damon, determinedly. He knew if Lynol could keep their gardens and crops producing as they were, people going hungry in the village would be a thing of the past. “Addison needs to worry about his own farms. They’re farmed so poorly it’s a miracle they produce anything.”

  -

  They continued to talk about what was happening over the mountain. There were so many stories flying about it was difficult to ascertain truth from fiction. Eventually, they were ready to return home. After loading up the few supplies they needed, Tohm walked the two men back out to the waiting wagon. There was no sign of Addison in front of his store, but the three men knew he was probably inside, watching.

  “If Addison gives you any trouble, let us know,” said Damon, looking towards Addison’s store.

  “He won’t bother us,” replied Tohm, appreciating the offer. “We have too many friends in the village, and Addison knows it. He overstepped himself today. It will be quite some time before he causes any trouble again.”

  “I hope you’re right,” replied Damon, looking back at Tohm.

  Gwen and Kalvin came out of the store with Kalvin holding a small bag of sweets Gwen was sending back for the girls. Climbing into the back of the wagon Kalvin sat down, smiling gratefully at Gwen. The sweets would give him an excuse to see Lynol! Maybe he could discover just what that surprising kiss implied. He had really enjoyed his talk with Gwen.

  “Come back and see me soon,” Gwen said to Kalvin with a motherly all-knowing smile. “Tell that sister of yours and Lynol to stop by too.”

  Her smile lingered as she watched the wagon and the three men depart. She felt a slight touch of sadness, realizing how quickly Kalvin, Dresdia, and Lynol were growing up. They weren’t children any longer!

  -

  Later that evening, as the sun began to set and darkness spread, Gilmreth began stirring beneath Firestorm Mountain. A red glow surrounded the dragon as he was summoned. Coming awake, the dragon’s yellowish red eyes flicked suddenly open. The dark slits of his pupils stared around the lair, his eyes penetrating the darkness. Listening to the summons, the dragon took to the air with a mighty whoosh of his wings.

  In moments, Gilmreth was flying rapidly down the long dark tunnel. Gilmreth burst into the early night with a bestial roar, sending fiery red dragon flame up into the chilly air announcing his appearance. Flying high above the mountain, Gilmreth beat his powerful wings in a southwesterly direction.

  The moon was high when Gilmreth reached the sleeping village that was his destination. For several long minutes, the dragon slowly and methodically circled the silent village, preparing for the kill, anticipating what he was about to do. Gilmreth was a deadly predator, and he was about to do what he did best.

  Suddenly sweeping down out of the night sky, the great dragon screamed out a loud, challenging roar and let loose a torrent of red-hot flames across the center of the helpless village. Several homes burst into flames from his dragon fire. The flames spread quickly, jumping from one house to the next. Gilmreth let loose with more torrents of deadly flame until the entire center of the small village began to burn. In only a matter of a few moments, loud screams and panicked voices could be heard as people realized their homes were ablaze. The attack had been sudden and
devastating, taking the unsuspecting village totally by surprise.

  Terrorized and confused, villagers began pouring from their burning homes. Gilmreth’s piercing roar split the night air, drawing the villagers’ attention to the dragon as he landed next to a small house. Using his powerful talons, Gilmreth tore the house to shreds searching for victims to feed his hunger. Villagers screamed and ran away in panic when they saw what had landed in their midst. It was the fearsome dragon they had heard so much about!

  The night turned fiery red as dragon flame licked through the air, incinerating everything and everyone it touched. In panic, the frightened villagers frantically searched for their children and other family members. They tried to flee from the rapidly spreading fire and smoke. The heat was unbearable and the smoke and drifting ash were everywhere, making seeing difficult. Screams and loud shouts echoed through the small village. It was becoming difficult to see the rampaging dragon, which had descended into their midst.

  With impudence Gilmreth took to the air, flying above the fleeing people, swooping down to pluck a helpless terrified villager off the ground to dangle from his vice like talons. A horrified scream was cut off as Gilmreth tightened his grip on his victim. Alighting upon a small hilltop, Gilmreth fed ravenously on the villager, devouring the feeble life force from the man.

  Rising, Gilmreth struck with his dragon fire again and again until the entire village was in roaring, towering flames. A virtual firestorm encompassed the village, consuming everything in burning flame and searing heat. Ashes floated thickly in the air, and heavy smoke tainted with the foul stench of dragon fire spread across the land. There were screams everywhere, husbands calling for their wives, mothers screaming frantically for their missing children. It was total chaos in the burning village.

  The night air was still, with little or no wind. There was nothing to dissipate the smoke and floating ashes. People ran fleeing from the village into the night, seeking shelter wherever they could find it.

  The burning red fire lit up the landscape, making Gilmreth’s hunting easier. Gilmreth circled above the burning village, watching as the surviving humans fled into the countryside. This was what he had been waiting for. It made his hunting easier with the humans out in the open.

  The light from the fire, the moon, and the dragon’s excellent night vision made the villagers’ efforts to hide futile. Time after time, the dragon picked up fleeing villagers, their screams choked off in his powerful grip. He fed upon the young and old alike, seeking more victims each time he took to the air.

  Just prior to dawn the dragon was satiated, his burning appetite nearly curbed. Gilmreth left the devastated village and began flying slowly back toward Firestorm Mountain. Of the two hundred and some odd people that had lived in the village of Canton, less than twenty lived to see the light of day. Their stories of horror would spread like wildfire. By the end of the day, the entire area would know of the dragon’s lethal attack.

  -

  In far off Draydon, her heart still pounding, Jalene had watched the killing and destruction with the Stone of Loraine. She’d stood utterly enthralled, a blood hungry gleam upon her face, as Gilmreth killed again and again! She had felt his blood lust and his burning desire to feed, and for a while it almost seemed as if she were the dragon her mind connected with his.

  “No one can stand against me!” she gloated, speaking to herself, softly running her hands sensuously over her breasts and stomach, feeling the heated effects of Gilmreth’s rampage.

  Jalene was wearing a long, high-necked silken black robe, belted loosely around her waist. She was tempted to call in one of the male guards, but the intimacy of physical pleasure was one thing she didn’t allow herself to indulge in. She despised men too much! She walked over to a cabinet and took down a crystal glass and a bottle of rich red wine. Pouring some into the glass, she took a small drink, enjoying the rich, smooth taste. She knew the wine would help calm her down.

  Walking over to the balcony, holding the glass in her left hand, she stepped out to stare out over her city. It was just before dawn. The air was warm and humid, the sky a dark purple. The torches on top of the temple flickered and popped, casting an unnatural glow over the sleeping city. In another year’s time, her city would be completed, or at least its heart, which surrounded the great temple. Already, tall white buildings and beautiful spires rose into the air, majestic testimony to her leadership and the fear she commanded.

  The sacrifices she presided over held the city's inhabitants captive, helpless pawns in the palm of her hand. Already the ranks of her temple guards had swelled considerably; more applicants appeared daily for priesthood and the benefits thereof. Soon, all the people living would be gathered in and around Draydon under her absolute control. She would be their supreme ruler.

  One thing which did concern her was Gilmreth’s continued refusal to fly to any of the villages on the east side of Firestorm Mountain. Several times she had willed the dragon to do so, and each time the dragon had flown back to his lair, staying there until the next sacrifice, not carrying out Jalene’s commands. Jalene suspected it had something to do with some past occurrence which the dragon remembered.

  She knew Malcon Sylvar, the sorcerer who had put Gilmreth to sleep, had lived east of the mountain. Perhaps some deep-seated memory connected with that powerful sorcerer still prevented Gilmreth from obeying her commands, perhaps from the very time that Sylvar had put Gilmreth to sleep in his lair.

  It made her uneasy knowing the dragon could disobey her. Just how much control over the dragon did she actually have? Faintly, a voice in the back of Jalene’s mind whispered that she had unleashed a monster, a terrifying creature that could destroy everything if she didn’t destroy it first. But then again, she had the Stone of Loraine. Not even Gilmreth could resist that!

  Glancing at the Stone of Loraine, which lay safely in its case where she had just placed it, her fears abated but not entirely. She would watch Gilmreth more closely in the future. The sacrifices should keep Gilmreth docile enough. She turned her thoughts back to her own side of the mountain. Gilmreth could wait for now.

  She took another small drink of the rich red wine, enjoying its taste. She swirled the liquid in her glass, watching its red color flow about inside. It was possible that a few Sylvars still lived in one of the few isolated villages to the east. She had heard of nobody else practicing sorcery other than herself.

  When the time was right, she would send some of her temple guards to the eastern villages to bring the people to Draydon. If some Sylvars were found to have survived, they might make an excellent choice to be sacrificed. There was also rumored to be a sacrificial altar somewhere on the far side of the mountain; maybe a sacrifice to Gilmreth at that altar would bring those villages into line.

  If there was a sacrifice and it was a Sylvar offered, surely the dragon would fly to the altar. If it were memories of Malcon Sylvar that kept Gilmreth from attacking the villages on the far side of the mountain and she could sacrifice a Sylvar to allow Gilmreth to get his revenge on the Sylvar family, then perhaps her power over Gilmreth would be complete. Thoughts of actually finding a living Sylvar to sacrifice made Jalene’s thoughts fly. The ceremony she could build around such a sacrifice! This was certainly something to be looked into.

  Walking back to the center of the room, Jalene picked up and rang a finely crafted silver bell that lay upon the table next to the Stone of Loraine. A guard immediately appeared. When Jalene called, quick obedience was the only safe recourse.

  “Have my breakfast sent up immediately,” she ordered coldly. “Also, send word to the High Priest to join me as soon as possible. We have plans to make!”

  -

  Lynol rolled tiredly out of bed. She stood slowly, gathering her thoughts. It had been a long night, spent mostly without sleep. She had felt horribly uneasy as if a terrible evil was being committed somewhere far away. When she had finally managed to fall asleep, her dreams were pervaded by nightmares of Gilmreth f
lying down to the sacrificial altar at the base of Firestorm Mountain. Someone was chained to the altar, with men dressed in red robes surrounding the stone base. Lynol could never see the face of the chained woman though she could hear the woman calling out to Lynol for help. These were the types of nightmares she could do without. There were very few nights recently that Gilmreth didn’t invade her dreams.

  Walking lightly with bare feet on the cool stone floor to the kitchen, Lynol opened up the shutters on the large window and stared quizzically out at Firestorm Mountain and the dragon that slept there during the day. Still feeling terribly uneasy, she reached tentatively out toward the mountain with her sorcery. She reeled in surprise when she couldn’t locate Gilmreth in his lair. His evil, dark mind wasn’t there or anywhere nearby. The dragon was always in his lair by the time the sun rose!

  “Jalene, what are you up to?” Lynol murmured, concerned. “What have you caused Gilmreth to do now?” Maybe there was a reason for her nightmares and restless sleep.

  Jalene had no idea of what the dragon was capable of. She was playing with fire, and Lynol knew it was only a matter of time before that deadly fire burned Jalene. Worse, once Jalene lost control of the dragon Gilmreth would destroy everything and everyone. Malcon had told her many stories about the dragon and the carnage it had done during his days.

  Stepping out onto the porch, Lynol sat down upon the top step staring worriedly at the mountain. She could hardly see the mountain or the nearby meadows, which were cloaked in early morning fog. A light morning breeze ruffled her hair, cooling her face. Her attention shifted to the Sylvar Stone lying quiescently beyond the teeming garden.

  Malcon had told her that in a few more months, when she was more advanced in her studies, she would have to make a journey to Firestorm Mountain. She shifted uneasily on the step. It was unusually quiet, without even the normal drone of morning insects or birds. The cattle in the fog-shrouded meadows were silent. Even the animals and insects seemed to sense that something wasn’t right.