“So now you believe us, eh?” Mortugal told Olwyne with a grin.
“Tell me if I can help you in any way,” Olwyne said. And from her tone, Xuhn knew she meant it.
“We have friends who got parted from us,” said Mortugal, “they will probably be taken to the troll king. If you hear word that anybody has brought two little people to the troll king, then please tell us.”
“I will.”
***
Chapter 32
“Hey,” Angus smiled at Olwyne, as he reached the mysterious sealer door. The morning felt fresh. And then, he had had a distant glance of Alheya. Deep in his heart, he was aware that she was unattainable for there was no match between the daughter of a royal Elder and a mere guard. But Angus loved her anyway.
Olwyne made a small nod that lacked any cheer. She seemed lost in thought.
Angus put on his chain mail. The mysterious door looked ancient. Olwyne was standing rigid beside it. Would Angus have to do the same for the rest of the day? He instead sat down on the floor.
“What are you doing?” Olwyne asked disapprovingly.
“Why don’t they provide us with chairs?” Angus asked instead. “I mean, we can’t spend the entire day standing, right?”
“We stand and guard,” Olwyne said.
“Say someone actually comes to steal whatever we are guarding,” Angus said, “How will we fight them if we spend all our energy standing?”
“Stand up, Angus. I am your senior. This is the discipline of a guard.”
Angus grimaced. He stood up. While he was ready to stand for a few minutes, the entire day would be too much. Suppose he remained a guard for the rest of his life. Would he have to follow the same routine every day? If that happened, he would soon be missing his shop.
A few moments passed thus. Restlessness gnawed within Angus. Neither he, nor his female companion spoke anything for a while. Finally Angus decided to break the silence.
“Um, who guards at night?” he asked Olwyne.
“Two guards come in the evening.”
“I see,” Angus said. He leaned against the great door, “So, since when have you been in this guarding post?”
“About a year.”
“Hmmm… how did they select you?”
“They were looking for guards in my village. I opted.”
“They weren’t… like doubting of you at first?”
“The official who came to select was amused when I broke the noses of two villagers, who wanted to be guards as well.”
“How did you learn the fighting skills?”
“Shut up. Enough with your questions.”
Angus sighed. Wow, what a job. He wasn’t even allowed to make conversation.
“You know why I came here for?” Angus said, his mind’s eye picturing Alheya.
“I don’t want to know.”
“Well, there was this g…” Angus bit his lip before saying anything further. He wasn’t sure if it would be appropriate to say such things to Olwyne. “Er, never mind.”
For pastime, Angus counted the stone slabs that formed the walls of the dungeon. A hundred. They were fat stones, and Angus couldn’t imagine how the builders had put them on top of each other. It had undoubtedly been back-breaking work. He counted them several more times to deal with the boredom. By the time he tired of doing that, he decided that he would leave the job. Forget Alheya. There were many girls in his own village.
He sat down grumpily on the floor.
Olwyne made a sound of mockery with her nose.
“So that’s all you got?”
“You mean patience?” Angus asked. Olwyne nodded calmly.
“Yes,” Angus said, unabashed.
“You know, the first time I came here I felt the same,” Olwyne said, more tenderly “as the days passed I got used to doing nothing. The handsome pay helped too.”
“Uh, standing alone all these days, you have never felt curious to know what lies behind the door?" Angus asked.
Olwyne didn’t reply. Her eyes met Angus’s. He could see the shadow of a desire on her face. For a moment he thought she was beautiful. Sure, she wasn’t smooth— thick muscles decorated her arm’s like a man’s. But that didn’t stop her from being pretty.
She broke away from the stare suddenly and looked away. There was a blush on her cheeks.
“No,” said Olwyne suddenly.
After about an hour or two of sitting and standing, Angus was asked by Olwyne to bring lunch from the kitchens of the palace. Angus went, glad to have a break. He asked a servant for directions, and made his way to the kitchen. It was the largest he had ever seen. Cooks were concocting delicacies for the royal lunch. Angus asked a cook if he could get lunch. The cook— a middle-aged man with a thick moustache—frowned.
“But we’ll ask the servants to deliver it to you, anyway,” the cook said, studying Angus up and down. “That’s what we always do. Didn’t the other guard tell you?”
“Er, you do?” Angus said. But why would Olwyne send him to the kitchen then?
The cook nodded.
“Your lunch will be delivered to you in an hour by servants. You can return to your position now.”
Angus returned to the dungeons, his head crowded with thoughts of why Olwyne had sent him to the kitchens. When he reached the room with the sealed door, he saw that Olwyne was crouching by the door, her back turned to him.
“Erm?” Angus said a bit loud to announce his arrival.
Olwyne at once sprang to her feet, her face flushing with utter fear. She might as well have seen a ghost.
Angus raised a brow at her reaction.
“Why did you send me?” he said. “And what were you exactly doing?”
“I was just searching for my hair pin,” Olwyne said curtly, as a sudden calm came over her face.
“I was told that servants will bring us the lunch… as usual.”
“I couldn’t bear to see you any longer—you looked like a chained horse, and not allowed to gallop about. Didn’t you say you were getting bored? I figured a walk would cheer you up.”
Angus went and grumpily took his position by the door. Olwyne was a strange girl for sure.
***
Xuhn stared at the ceiling of Olwyne’s bedroom. It was night outside. Olwyne had returned only some time ago from the palace. Xuhn and Mortugal had asked her if she had heard any news of small people being brought to the King. She shook her head with a crestfallen face, saying her friend at the Palace, a male servant called Med, hadn’t showed up that day. He had been unwell for the past few days apparently and that might be a reason for his absence.
Further, Olwyne told them that she had also failed to find out anything about what lay behind the door she guarded. While she had been able to send her fellow guard away for some time, she had failed to discover any key hole on the door.
Now Olwyne was having dinner in the other room, while Xuhn and Mortugal sat quietly.
Xuhn thought about Ritika. Was she still in Northang, in those wild areas where robbers were likely to camp? What about Ruponi and Breda? Were they all safe? These thoughts plagued Xuhn’s heart. He wondered if it would have had been best had they all stayed together. But that had been made impossible by Ritika’s and Ruponi’s doing. Boy, if Ritika magically appeared in front of him, Xuhn would readily forgive her and hug her tightly.
Mortugal, leaned against Xuhn’s stomach, much as Xuhn used to in the days when Mortugal was the dragon. Xuhn could very well guess that thoughts of Corpsia filled Mortugal’s mind. Perhaps the age old love had ignited again.
Xuhn looked out through the window. Moonlight drenched the streets and houses outside with its soft light. Insects were singing, and it looked like a perfect night, despite the fact that the insects too were gigantic, almost the size dogs were back in the old continent.
Suddenly, Xuhn had a wish to fly. He wanted to soar. Enough with sad thoughts. Things are achieved only by being determined, not by wallowing over spilt milk. Xuhn stood up,
so that Mortugal fell on the mattress of the bed.
“What?” Mortugal snapped.
“I want to fly,” Xuhn said, meeting Mortugal’s eyes, “dragons soar, don’t they?”
Mortugal extended his arms wide, pretending they were wings.
“I am human now, but yes, dragons soar.”
“Climb up,” Xuhn said, “I know of everything you were thinking. Leave those thoughts aside. We’ll find Corpsia and Vivek, and travel back to the old continent. For now we must fly. Heights help one to see things from a clearer perspective.”
Mortugal climbed up. Xuhn flapped his great wings and shot out through the open window.
It was pleasantly cool outside, and the more Xuhn distanced himself from the houses of the people, the better his mood became.
“Hey,” Mortugal said, “you are a complete dragon now, aren’t you?’
“Well, my eyes are my own,” Xuhn said, not really getting Mortugal.
“I mean, you have got scales, you have the ability to breathe fire, you can fly,” Mortugal rambled on, “but can you fart people to unconsciousness?”
“Look Mortugal, I am a dragon, not the Farton that you became.”
“A pity,” Mortugal said and laughed.
The houses below were probably over a thousand times the size of the houses in the old continent. This made an idea pop in Xuhn’s mind.
“Hey, why don’t you accompany Olwyne to the palace tomorrow?” he told Mortugal.
“And help her find what is inside the room she guards?’
“Exactly.”
“It’s dangerous,” Mortugal said darkly. Xuhn hadn’t expected such an lukewarm response from the former dragon.
“Yes, it’s obviously dangerous,” Xuhn said, “but only if somebody sees you. You should be safe as long as you stay near Olwyne. Maybe you can go to the castle in her pocket?”
Mortugal was silent for a moment before he spoke.
“I don’t know, boy. Ever since I have ceased being a dragon, I feel vulnerable. I don’t have any strengths now. Before I was bigger than everybody. Now everybody is bigger than me.”
“So you are afraid?” Xuhn teased.
“Yes I am, no shame in that, is there?”
“Look, I still wonder if Olwyne truly believes our story. And even I am sceptic of hers. What if Zergo took Corpsia and Vivek to the castle today? What if Olwyne lied to us? You can find out everything if you go tomorrow. It will also strengthen her trust upon us.”
“Why don’t you come too?”
Xuhn gritted his teeth. Mortugal was becoming to the same personality he was when Xuhn first awoke him back at the lake. Mortugal had little confidence back then. It was the same situation now.
“Can’t you see?” Xuhn asked, trying to be as reasonable as possible, “I am much bigger than you. I won’t fit in Olwyne’s pocket like you can. Plus, I am likely to get noticed easily because of my wings. If anybody sees you, they will probably think they are hallucinating.”
Mortugal made a small helpless sound at this—one that sounded like “fine”.
“Look Mortugal, I know the human body is vulnerable. But as long as you keep your mind ready, you’ll be able to deal with anything.”
“Don’t worry, boy,” Mortugal said in the voice of a person who was certain of death, “I’ll go tomorrow, and find out everything.”
***
Mortugal was nervous when he woke up the following morning. He thought of all that would happen later on in the day and shivered.
Olwyne woke up after some time, and then—before Xuhn could—Mortugal told the warrior lady of his intention to accompany her to the palace.
“What?” Olwyne said. She was still drowsy, and it seemed like she hadn’t taken in his words completely. As Mortugal contemplated if he should repeat, the words finally seemed to sink into her head.
“But what if they see you?” Olwyne asked with genuine worry dripping from her face.
“He’ll be hidden in your pocket,” Xuhn said.
“But to find out anything about the magical object, you will have to come out. I don’t want that idiot Angus to see you under any circumstance.”
Inwardly, these words made Mortugal happy. If he didn’t have to go with Olwyne it would be great. But then Corpsia’s face flashed in his mind, and he felt selfish. Couldn’t he even suppress his fears for her?
“I must go with you,” Mortugal told Olwyne, and he totally meant it this time.
Olwyne considered him for a moment.
“Fine,” she said, “I appreciate your help and I’ll try to protect you in every way possible, but you are doing this at your own risk.”
“I understand that,” Mortugal said. His heart beat faster with worry, but he told himself to be calm. Sure he might not have the wings or jaws of a dragon anymore, but inside he would always be a dragon. And dragons feared nothing. He had already lived quite a long life—most of it slumbering— and he really couldn’t complain if he died today.
And so it happened that Mortugal found himself inside Olwyne’s waist pocket. It barely concealed him, and he had to bend his legs so his head would be hidden. Along the way to the palace, Olwyne repeatedly kept asking if he was okay inside the pocket. Mortugal wondered if Xuhn’s suspicions about Olwyne’s distrust were valid, for Olwyne seemed like a very caring young lady.
And then they reached the palace. When they reached the dungeon, Olwyne greeted the night guards and told them that they could go and have a good day’s sleep. Mortugal peeped out from the pocket.
“Where is the other guard who is supposed to be with you?” he asked Olwyne.
“He’s a lazy fellow. I guess he’s still sleeping at his home. I told him yesterday to come earlier today though.”
“Well, that’s good for us,” Mortugal said, “why don’t we use the time? Put me down.”
Olwyne carefully took him out of her pocket and placed him on the ground. Mortugal looked up at the gargantuan door before which Olwyne was standing. He went to the base of the door. Even the gaps at the bottom of the door were sealed with an air tight waxy material. Had it not been there, Mortugal could have somehow squeezed himself through the gap into the room on the other side of the door. Mortugal touched the waxy substance. He tried to remove some of it out with his hands.
Success.
He took out some more, but his bare hands could only do so much, and most of the wax remained. Then his eyes fell on Olwyne’s sword.
“Hey,” he said to the troll lady, “this wax comes off. Why don’t you use your sword to create me a passage to the other side?”
“We must hurry,” Olwyne said. She fell on her knees, put the point of her sword at the sealed gap, and applied pressure with her massive arms. The sword slid through easily, creating a passage for Mortugal.
Just then the sound of footsteps came. Mortugal turned to see a giant troll, even bigger than Olwyne, enter the dungeon chamber.
“Hey, what are you doing?” the troll asked Olwyne, who was in an awkward position. As Olwyne stammered for an excuse, Mortugal hoped the troll hadn’t seen him, and tried to pass through the gap to the other room.
Mortugal deflated his stomach as much as possible, turned his head to the side, and used his hands to push himself.
Somehow, Mortugal finally passed through the gap. He closed his eyes and took in a breath. That had been tough, he thought. He opened his eyes.
The new room Mortugal had reached would have been very dark, if not for a glowing purple gas-like substance coming in through a hole in the ceiling. The hole was directly above a golden chest, placed on a pedestal. The purple light streamed down to the chest, which was open.
So is this what they are guarding? Mortugal thought. He recalled Olwyne saying that the troll king was using the purple essence to make himself immortal. So the purple light was the essence, and maybe the chest was meant to store it.
Mortugal strode towards the pedestal. Everything about the room seemed to be yelling that
whatever he was seeing was not meant for his eyes. The pedestal looked old, and there were small cracks all about it. Using these cracks to maintain his footing, Mortugal tediously climbed up. He thought about his old times. With the help of his wings he could have been easily able to fly up and see what exactly was in the golden chest.
Thankfully, the sides of the chest too had intricate carvings and, like the cracks, he used these for foothold and made his way up.
Mortugal’s heart skipped a beat when his eyes fell on the object lying on a red cushion inside the chest.
It was an egg. A black one. It was shiny and reflected the purple light onto Mortugal’s face. He instantly recognised that it could only be a dragon egg.
But what was a dragon egg doing in the new continent? If Corpsia was right then only Malthur, the undead king of the Bnomes, had ever known of the existence of the new continent.
Mortugal jumped down to the soft cushion on which the egg rested. He touched the egg, seeing one in ages.
And then the strange, feathery sensation seized his guts.
It wasn’t a mere sensation.
Mortugal realised he was actually beginning to levitate. Soon, he was hovering many feet above the dragon egg, which looked rather small when compared to the great chest it was in.
As his height continued to rise, Mortugal was caught by fear. This shouldn’t be happening. Mortugal waved his arms furiously in a meagre attempt to get down to the chest, but he just got carried up and up. Very soon, he was nearing the ceiling.
“Olwyne, help me!” Mortugal yelled in despair, although he knew that it wasn’t possible for Olwyne to hear him. The hole she had created for Mortugal was way too small to carry his voice out.
And then Mortugal was taken out of the hole. Once in bright sunlight outside, Mortugal saw that the purple substance lost its purple colour and became invisible. But still he kept levitating. He was taken away towards the palace walls, where trees grew in well kept lines. Suddenly a gust of strong wind came and blew him to a tree. Mortugal caught a branch before the purple magic could transport him away any further.
The Banishment of the King Page 23